Glyptothek: The Barberini Faun Is Still Asleep
Why is it significant?
Climb the steps under the Ionic portico and notice the niches along the windowless façade, filled with statues looking out over the square. The building has no windows on this side because it was designed to be lit from the inner courtyard, gently, the way a sculptor's studio is lit.
Key Facts
| Place | Glyptothek: The Barberini Faun Is Still Asleep |
|---|---|
| Address | Königsplatz 3, 80333 München, Germany |
| Geo Coordinates | 48.14660, 11.56620 |
| Part of Walk | Isar-Athens: Munich's Königsplatz, the Pinakotheks & the Blue Rider |
| Generated | Generated |
Climb the steps under the Ionic portico and notice the niches along the windowless façade, filled with statues looking out over the square. The building has no windows on this side because it was designed to be lit from the inner courtyard, gently, the way a sculptor's studio is lit. Inside sleeps one of the most sensual statues of the ancient world.
The Glyptothek, from the Greek word for carving, was built by Leo von Klenze between 1816 and 1830 for the sculpture collection of Crown Prince Ludwig. It is often called the oldest public museum in Munich. Ludwig had agents in Rome and Greece buying marble while Europe was still at war with Napoleon, and he chased certain pieces for years.
The most famous is the Barberini Faun: a satyr sprawled on a rock, one arm thrown back behind his head, legs apart, utterly drunk and utterly asleep. He was carved in the Hellenistic age, around 220 before Christ, and rediscovered in Rome in the 1620s, where he belonged to the powerful Barberini family. Ludwig bought him, then spent years fighting the papal authorities for permission to export him. Visitors still lower their voices in front of him, as if he might wake up.
In another room stand the warriors of Aegina, from the pediments of the temple of Aphaia, dug up in 1811 and bought by Ludwig the following year. The Danish sculptor Bertel Thorvaldsen restored them in Rome, adding noses and arms... additions that later curators removed again, to show what the Greeks actually left.
In the Second World War, bombs destroyed the painted and gilded halls inside. When the museum reopened in 1972, nobody tried to fake them back. The statues now stand against bare brick and pale plaster, and many visitors think they have never looked better. Now walk back past the gate, cross Luisenstraße, and look for a golden-yellow villa in the Italian style behind a formal garden.