The Birth of Venus & the Venus Star — part II
- Daniela Mazoni
- Jul 27
- 4 min read
Aphrodite to the Greeks, Venus to the Romans — the mythology of the Goddess of Love has varied versions. The one depicted in the notorious painting "The Birth of Venus" by Sandro Botticelli starts with Gaia's everlasting lovemaking with Uranus — the sky God — trapping their children inside Gaia's womb. Hence, Gaia urged one of their children — Cronos (Saturn) — to castrate Uranus, causing a separation. That's when time and space were created. The genitals of Uranus were thrown into the ocean. Emerged by the foam created in the waves — there she was, fully formed, Aphrodite. A dual-nature Goddess. Floating in a scallop shell, about to step onto the shores of the Greek island of Cyprus. As she walks into the barren land, flowers bloom and fertility is brought to Earth — by her.
As I mentioned in the previous article — "The Birth of Venus" may be the quintessence of Florentine Renaissance art. Presented around 1485, this huge canvas of Venus naked was revolutionary. During the Renaissance era, artists were considered geniuses, and that was because they were telling stories through their art that educated the people. People who did not have access to that kind of knowledge, or even if they did, they didn't know how to read it. Art educates, art is knowledge. And part of Botticelli's brilliance was to introduce this novel perspective of the celebrated human form to the contemporary Christian outlook.
Art historians suggest that Botticelli was inspired by the first female nude sculpture in classical art — the Medici sculpture collection had one, which is now considered one of the highlights of the Uffizi Gallery collection. Her pose is known as "Venus Pudica", where the female figure poses her right hand in front of her breast, meanwhile her left hand covers her female pelvic area.
"The Birth of Venus" was made on canvas, which is why art historians believe it was made for a country villa, as canvas was considered less formal than the contemporary wooden panels. It was probably made for the Villa di Castello, owned by the Medici family. Potentially as a gilded marriage gift to accompany the previous marvel "Primavera" — another Botticelli's work commissioned by Lorenzo de'Medici.
Botticelli’s brush was dipped in egg tempera. A technique that maintains the brightness of colour through time. Botticelli had an astonishing way of depicting mythological stories — by the way, he was the first artist to depict non-religious scenes in Western art since classical times. The concept that Art could be for Pleasure captivated the Florentins. How wouldn't they?
In this ethereal scene, every figure seems to float on the same dreamlike plane, with no depth or shadowing to evoke the awareness that we are looking at an imaginary scene. It is unreal. Venus has a marble-like skin highlighted by Botticelli's dark contour lines. She is the incarnation of Beauty. She is idealised. Venus' golden hair blowing in the wind is highlighted by brushes of real gold, as Botticelli was first trained as a goldsmith, and he was definitely talented at that.
The entire scene ripples with a sense of movement, astonishing for its era. On the left, Zephyrs — the warm spring winds — sweep Venus ashore. Roses swirl through the sky, each blossom opening its golden heart to mirror the radiance of Venus herself.
On the right, Venus is greeted by Horae — the gentle spirit of the seasons — who wraps her in a peach-hued cloak stitched with daisies. Here, Horae is summer incarnate, her gown embroidered with primroses and cornflowers, her waist cinched by a rose girdle and a myrtle necklace — every detail a nod to Venus’s sacred flora. The ground bursts with anemones and other summer blooms, while the orange grove behind hints at the fabled garden of the Hesperides — or perhaps pays homage to the Medici family, for whom the orange tree was a symbol of legacy and power.
In Christian symbolism, the shell whispers of baptism and resurrection. But here, it alludes of Venus’s deep bond to the sea — and to the mysteries of femininity and creation. Botticelli, ever the storyteller, slips in another secret: the bulrushes at the painting’s lower left. They shouldn’t thrive by the salty shore. You might wonder why they’re there. Perhaps they are a sly nod to Uranus’s lost power, another thread in the tapestry of myth. Botticelli invites us to remember: this is not reality, but the wild, fertile terrain of imagination.
In sum, "The Birth of Venus" is more than a masterpiece — it still mesmerises our 21st-century eyes — but it is also a reflection of the Renaissance era outlook. Venus, the dual-nature Goddess, represents not only Beauty and Love, but desire too. Venus' magnetism shapes the culture we value as individuals and as a group. As Bettany Hughes evokes: "We really have to explore what role desire plays in society". Culture is always evolving. The Venus Star is always evolving. And now, the brush is in our hands.
¿ What do you desire ?
Vivre in amour,
Daniela
