Uffizi Boar

Uffizi Boar
Bronze
Italian, 18th Century
After a marble copy of a Hellenistic original, discovered in Rome and later housed in the Uffizi, Florence.

H 18 x W 23,5 x D 13,8 cm (bronze only)
H 7 x W 9 ¼ x D 5 2/5 inch


This beautiful large statue of a wild boar is believed to portray the mythical Calydonian Boar. The enchanting statue is a copy after a Hellenistic marble original excavated in Rome and currently kept at the Uffizi in Florence. The Calydonian Boar was one of the most infamous animals in Greek mythology. Legend has it that when King Oeneus of Calydon failed to honor the goddess Artemis (Lat. Diana) with offerings, she released a fierce and terrifying boar to ravage the fields of Calydon. No one had the courage to hunt the gigantic fearsome boar, until eventually the king's son, Meleager, assembled a group of renowned warriors to slay the beast. A long fierce battle ensued in which several of the huntsmen were killed or maimed before Meleager finally defeated the boar.

The story of the Calydonian boar hunt was told and retold during antiquity— Homer, Hesiod and pseudo-Appolodorus all recounted the myth, but it the most famous and elaborated version is undoubtedly that in Ovid's Metamorphoses (Metamorphoses 8, 269 ff):
“[...]the cause of distress a Boar, Diana’s [Artemis’] Boar, her instrument of enmity and vengeance. For the king, Oeneus, it’s said, when plenty blessed the year, to Ceres [Demeter] gave the first-fruits of the corn, to Lyaeus [Dionysos] poured his wine, to golden-haired Minverva [Athene] her oil from her own holy tree. The prized oblations, given first to gods of farm and field, reached all the gods of heaven. Only Latois’ [Artemis, daughter of Leto] altars (so men say) were left uncensed, unserviced and ignored. [...] `This shall not pass unpunished. No!’ she cried, `I may be seen unhonoured, true, but never unavenged!’ The smarting goddess sent a giant Boar, huge as the bulls that grassy Epiros breeds, dwarfing the bulls of fertile Sicula (Sicily); his eyes ablaze with fire and blood; his neck solid and steep; his bristles long and sharp, rigid as spearshafts; his broad sweeping flanks flecked, as he hissed and snorted, with hot foam. His mouth flashed lightning and his burning breath seared the green leaves. Now the young growing corn he trampled in the blade, and now cut short the harvest in the ear, and laid ruin to the farmers’ ripened hopes. [...]

The people fled; they felt no safety save within a city’s walls till Meleager and his heroes came, a chosen band, all fired by hopes of fame. [...]

Reaching this wild wood the heroes spread their nets, unleashed their hounds, and followed the fresh footprints, each intent to find his danger. [...] Out he rushed straight at his enemies, like lightning stuck when clouds collide. His headlong charge broke down the forest; sounds crashing echoed through the shattered wood. The huntsmen gave a shout, brave hands held spears thrust forward, their broad points glinting. On rushed the boar, scattering the hounds that faced his fury, striking, as they bayed, swift slanting strokes and tossing them aside. [...]

Now the boar’s anger flashed like lightning; flames blazed from his eyes; flames issued from his throat; and as a ball flies from a catapult aiming at walls and towers packed with troops, so, devastating, irresistible, the beast charged those young men. Hippalmus and Pelagon who guarded the right flank he laid prostrate; and as they lay their friends dragged them away. But yet Enaesimus, son of Hippocoon, could not escape the fatal blow; the sinews of his knees were severed and his leg-muscles collapsed. And Nestor might perhaps have perished too before the time of Troy, had he not leapt, vaulting on his long spear, into a tree that stood at hand, and there in safety gazed down on the enemy that he’d escaped. Whetting his tusks on the oak’s trunk, the brute raged high for havoc. [...]

The fierce struggle between the men and the raging boar continues until suddenly Meleager enters the fight:

Now it was miss and hit for Oenides [Meleagros]. Two spears he sped; the first stood in the earth, the second fair and square in the Boar’s back. He roared, he raged, he twisted round and round, slavering blood afresh and hissing foam, and in a trice the wielder of the wound was on his foe and, baiting him to fight, deep through his shoulder sank his shining blade. All shout their joy with cheers of victory and crowd to clasp the victor’s hand and gaze in awe and wonder at the monstrous brute that lies there at such length, still half-afraid to touch him, but each hero bloods his blade."

Ever since the original Hellenistic statue was discovered in Rome somewhere in the beginning of the 16th century, it has known an enormous popularity. Accounts differ as to how and when exactly the Boar came to light in Rome, but they agree that a certain Paolo Ponti found it and also agree in thinking of it as the Calydonian Boar. According to one early writer the statue was excavated together with other figures which formed a hunting scene. After having stood in the courtyard of Paolo Ponti in Rome for a while, the Wild Boar or Il Cinghiale as it was also known, was brought to Florence sometime before 1568 and in 1591 it was housed in the Uffizi, as a gift from Pope Pius IV to Cosimo I de’ Medici. In the late sixteenth century two dogs were placed next to it and it was confronted with the statue of a man who appeared to be attacking it. The man represented Meleager. In the sixteenth century the statue was widely loved and admired. In his celebrated account of the ancient statues of Rome published in 1556, Aldrovandi considered the Wild Boar as one of the most notable statues in Rome at the time. Ponti was said to have refused a very large amount of money for it. Travelers throughout the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries praised it consistently for its naturalism. Nicolas Coustou elaborated the statue, while Foggini made a copy of it for Louis XIV. Moreover, at that time most collections of famous pieces of sculpture had a copy of it. Some full-scale, others small – in bronze, ceramic and plaster.
In 1762 the Boar fell victim to a fire and consequently it lost some of its former splendor. However, even before the fire of 1762 the original had been surpassed in popularity and familiarity by the copy of it made by the renowned sculptor Pietro Tacca. Tacca was a student of Giambologna and in 1608 he took over the workshop of his master. He also succeeded his master as court sculptor to the Medici. Inspired by the original Il Cinghiale in the ducal collection at the Uffizi Gallery, Tacca set himself the task of surpassing it. The result of his efforts is the captivating bronze statue of Il Porcellino adorning the Mercato Nuovo in Florence. The copy was commissioned by Grand Duke Cosimo II de’ Medici. The statue shows a very high degree of verisimilitude. It was set on a base covered with plants and animals. The nose of the boar is shiny with incessant handling showing that few can resist the temptation to stroke the luring bristles. Hans Christian Andersen made this statue the subject of a short story of his.