Apollo Gallery

The history of the Louvre is a fascinating tale. It traces not only the French monarchy but also the rise of Paris as a cultural center of the world. 

While it began as a military fortress in the 13th century, it went on to become an important location for French kings. In a similar vein, the story of the Gallery of Apollo is as much a story of the changing politics of France as it is about a room in an art museum. In fact, its very name is a clue to the profound ways that the government has changed over time in the country and how architectural marvels can be used to assert power.

To understand how the Gallery of Apollo came to be, we first must understand the Petite Galerie where it is located.

The new space was called the Gallery of Apollo because Louis XIV closely identified himself with the god Apollo from antiquity. The theme for the room was the travel of the Sun through the sky, a fitting tribute to Louis the Sun King. As Apollo is often merged with the Greek god of the Sun Helios, the mythic symbolism became weighted with extra significance.

There is another historical component. It was only in the 16th century that Copernicus declared that the Earth revolved around the Sun, not the other way around. And Louis XIV, like many of the French kings that came before him, loved and so patronized astronomy. He even commissioned the Paris Observatory (which you can still visit), and he founded the French Academy of Sciences.

To pull off connecting his personality with the Sun itself, Louis XIV tapped the powers of the great Charles Le Brun (an artist who would later work at Versailles) to decorate the interior. It was here in the Gallery of Apollo that Le Brun’s commissions gave him the ability to experiment and push excess to its absolute limits. The innovations found in this room would go on to influence generations of French interior design and decorative arts.

When it was completed in 1663, the room was by far the most decorated in Europe — with at least 60% of its surfaces covered by gold leaf! The audacity of this space went on to inspire the famous Hall of Mirrors at Versailles.

Though great strides were made in his lifetime, Louis XIV never saw the gallery completed. And in fact, its continuous improvement lasted centuries. It wasn’t until the middle of the 19th century that the room would come to its completed state under the aegis of architect Félix Duban. He employed the services of well known painters of his generation, including Eugène Delacroix (you can see Delacroix’s Liberty Leading the People at the Louvre).

It was Delacroix who was given the capstone achievement of the entire hall. It is his Apollo Slaying the Serpent Python (1851), a 12-meter wide ceiling mural, that serves as the culmination of centuries of construction and as one of the most shining achievements of French Romanticism.

The ceiling of the Gallery of Apollo is covered with incredible paintings that tell a story that unfolded over the hundreds of years that the room was constructed. These represent works by the following artists:

● Joseph Benoît Guichard 

● Charles Le Brun

● Antoine-François Callet

● Jean-Jacques Lagrenée

● Eugène Delacroix

● Antoine Renou

● Jean-Hugues Taraval

● Louis Durameau

● Chales-Louis Muller

Across 11 paintings, the story of the Sun and Apollo (and thus, metaphorically, the Sun King) is told. 

The ongoing symbolism of time cycles does not end with the paintings and the medallions. It continues with the chandeliers. Though no longer visible today, they once represented each day of the week, with the missing 7th day of Sunday placed in the center.

Some of the ongoing decorative imagery can be found today in the grotesques. These are decorative objects that mix human, animal, and plant elements in a single figure. While they are very beautiful in their own right, they also carry plenty of symbolism within — though this can be difficult to decipher.

If we know how to read them, however, we can see the days of the week appear. For instance, when elements of an eagle appear, this represents Jupiter. Thursday is Jupiter’s day (it is called Jeudi in French).

By illustrating the connection between the Sun and the days of the week, yet another concentric circle is added to the dazzling tapestry of solar significance. The Sun controls the rhythm of day and night. This adds up to weeks, which measure the Sun’s travels through the signs of the Zodiac. This eventually gets us through a full year — the culmination of the solar journey.

At the end of construction in the 19th century, portrait tapestries were added to the Gallery of Apollo that represent the monarchs, architects, and artists who worked to make this wonder what it is today. 

Totalling 28 in all, these tapestries give us a sweeping view of the personalities that ruled France and developed its visual culture from the rise of absolutism, through the Revolution, the First Empire, as well as multiple upheavals and restorations.

First and foremost, the Crown Jewels of France — including the kings, queens, emperors, and empress Josephine can be found here.

These give us an intimate look at royalty, as the crown is the personal item that most directly connects the monarch with their station. It is at once a very human thing, made to fit someone’s head, and also unearthly, made to signify the full spiritual and military power of the French state.

Also held in the Gallery of Apollo is the hardstone vessel collection. These are precious pieces carved and showered with gilt and enamel to produce breathtaking works of art.

Among these, Neptune’s Ship is perhaps the most famous and photographed. It is made predominantly out of lapis lazuli and was purchased by Louis XIV himself.

In fact, the Sun King acquired almost all of the pieces in the hardstone vessel collection, as he had a special love for them. These works are carved out of a wide range of material, like agate, amethyst, jade, and more. All in all, there are 800 pieces.