Habemus Papam! The Most Famous Portraits of Popes in Art History

Since late antiquity, the popes have been not only the heads of the most powerful church but also the heads of a state (we must not forget this–the Papal States were not just a small area within Rome; at certain moments in history, the popes ruled a massive chunk of the Apennine Peninsula). The popes treated the arts not only as something to dazzle the believers (especially in the Baroque period) but also as an extension of their political power. Their portraits had the same function as the portraits of kings and emperors—they were meant to present the grandeur and power of the ruler. The list below presents some of the most important depictions. In addition you’ll see a couple of famous (even controversial) contemporary artworks that reflect the still-iconic status of the popes. Enjoy!

1. Raphael Santi, Pope Julius II

This portrait of a visibly weary Pope Julius II (1443–1513) is typically dated to the roughly 18 months during which he wore a beard. He let it grow in 1510 as an act of penance while recovering from a serious illness brought on by the French seizure of Bologna (during the conflict known as the War of the Holy League). Julius vowed not to shave until French forces were driven out of Italy—a promise he kept when they were expelled in 1512. A powerful and ambitious figure, Julius II was also a major patron of the arts. He commissioned Raphael to paint frescoes in the papal apartments in the Vatican and initiated the grand reconstruction of St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome.

The two golden acorns carved into the back of the pope’s chair refer to his family name, Della Rovere—“rovere” being the Italian word for oak. The portrait was publicly displayed in the Roman church of Santa Maria del Popolo shortly after the pope’s death, on December 12, 1513. Its striking realism and psychological depth set the standard for ecclesiastical portraiture for the next two centuries. The famous 16th-century art gossiper Giorgio Vasari, writing long after Julius’ death, said of this painting that “it was so lifelike and true that it frightened everyone who saw it, as if it were the living man himself.”

2. Raphael, Portrait of Leo X

The Portrait of Pope Leo X is one of the most famous portraits in Western art history. It was probably commissioned by Pope Leo X himself, who was also Raphael’s patron. Giovanni de’ Medici (of THAT Medici from Florence) became Pope Leo X in 1513. In the painting, he sits in a chair. Behind him, with his hands on the chair, stands Cardinal Luigi de’ Rossi, his slightly older first cousin and one of his closest confidants. On the left side of the composition is Cardinal Giulio de’ Medici, Leo’s powerful right-hand man in the papal court, and the future Pope Clement VII.

The message behind the painting remains a subject of speculation. The most widely accepted theory is that it was created as a wedding gift. According to this view, Pope Leo X had the portrait painted so that his likeness could symbolically attend the wedding banquet of Lorenzo de’ Medici and Madeleine de la Tour d’Auvergne in Florence—a ceremony the pope was unable to attend in person. Lorenzo’s mother, Alfonsina, is said to have placed the portrait over the banquet table beside the bride, so that she would be “joined” by her papal uncle and cardinal cousins.

In this portrait, Raphael chooses realism over flattery. Pope Leo X is shown as somewhat overweight, with a serious, even somber expression—possibly reflecting the tensions of his papacy. This was the period when Martin Luther began openly challenging the Church, especially criticizing Leo’s controversial sale of indulgences to finance the rebuilding of St. Peter’s Basilica. Known for his poor eyesight, Leo is shown holding a magnifying glass in his left hand, which he seems to be using to read a book beneath his right hand—likely his copy of the Hamilton Bible (a 14th-century manuscript) gifted to him by his father, Lorenzo the Magnificent (yes, that Lorenzo the Magnificent).

On the table in the foreground, a silver bell with a golden, scalloped dome draws the eye. It’s decorated with intricate designs: acanthus leaves, flowers, and two Medici emblems—a diamond ring and three feathers. Nearby, barely visible, is Leo X’s coat of arms, featuring the famous six Medici balls, topped by the crossed papal keys and the tiara.

3. Caravaggio, Portrait of Pope Paul V

The Portrait of Pope Paul V is attributed to the Italian Baroque master Caravaggio (the recent 2025 Caravaggio exhibition at Galleria Borghese claims that Caravaggio painted it). The sitter, Camillo Borghese, served as Pope Paul V from 1605 to 1621. According to Caravaggio’s early biographer Giovanni Bellori, the artist painted a seated portrait of the newly elected pope, placing the creation of the work between Paul’s election on May 16, 1605, and Caravaggio’s hasty departure from Rome in May 1606, following his fatal duel with Ranuccio Tomassoni. According to Bellori, Caravaggio gained access to the pope through Cardinal Scipione Borghese, Paul’s powerful nephew. A passionate and acquisitive collector, Scipione would eventually own many of Caravaggio’s paintings. Yet despite his enthusiasm for the artist’s work, Scipione proved a poor patron, known more for coercion and opportunism than for genuine support. He acquired many works—including those by Caravaggio—through extortion and manipulation, rather than patronage or purchase.

Although some art historians have long questioned the painting’s authenticity, arguing that its composition lacks the dramatic energy typically associated with Caravaggio, others argue in favor of its attribution. Pope Paul V was widely known for his austere, reserved demeanor and would have been unlikely to allow a more dynamic or expressive portrayal. Some scholars also challenge common interpretations of Paul’s narrowed gaze, often described as suspicious or severe. They attribute it instead to chronic myopia, not malice.

4. Diego Velázquez, Portrait of Pope Innocent X

This painting, also known as one of the best portraits in Western art history, is celebrated for its striking realism, which captures the Pope’s intelligence and psychological intensity. The great Spanish master, Diego Velázquez, portrayed Innocent X in vivid red vestments and a white linen rochet, with equally rich tones in the surrounding drapery.

Born Giovanni Battista Pamphilj, Innocent X initially hesitated to sit for Velázquez. There are two main stories explaining how the painter gained the pope’s approval. One version claims that Velázquez offered to paint the pope while visiting Rome, but the pope refused, doubting his talent. To prove himself, Velázquez painted the now-famous portrait of his servant, Juan de Pareja. Impressed by this work, Innocent X agreed to be painted. Some historians, however, find this anecdote doubtful and suggest that the real reason was Velázquez’s established reputation within the papal circle—he had already painted the pope’s barber and other court members.

Legend has it that when the pope saw the completed portrait, he exclaimed, “È troppo vero! È troppo vero!” (“It’s too true! It’s too true!”). While the story may be apocryphal, it reflects the portrait’s extraordinary lifelike quality. The Pamphilj family kept the painting private, displaying it in the Doria Pamphilj Gallery, where it remains today.

P.S. The Portrait of Pope Innocent X profoundly influenced 20th-century art, most notably Francis Bacon—about whom you will learn later!

5. Jacques-Louis David, Portrait of Pope Pius VII

Let’s move to post-revolutionary France. Jacques-Louis David, the greatest painter of the time, who miraculously survived the French Revolution and became the court painter of Napoleon I, created this portrait as a gesture of gratitude to the pope for his presence at the coronation of Napoleon I. You may recall David’s monumental painting The Coronation of Napoleon—Pius VII is depicted there as offering a blessing to the emperor. Interestingly, however, in reality, the pope maintained a passive and solemn presence throughout the ceremony.

While no formal documentation survives, Count Charles Fleurieu, the Quartermaster General, likely commissioned the Portrait of Pope Pius VII for the French Emperor. David painted it from life at the Tuileries Palace in late February 1805. The artist, initially skeptical, was reportedly moved by Pius’s humility and quiet dignity, and chose to portray him not with grandeur, but in a reflective, almost meditative pose, emphasizing the pope’s humanity over his authority.

The painting, set against a muted brown background, portrays Pope Pius VII seated in a three-quarter view on a red velvet chair trimmed with gold embroidery. He wears a serene expression and is dressed in a white zucchetto (a skullcap), a white rochet (visible at the sleeves), a red velvet camail with ermine cuffs, and a red stole adorned with gold embroidery. His arms rest gently on the chair’s arms, and in his right hand he holds a paper inscribed in Latin: “Pio VII Bonarum Artium Patron” (“Pius VII, Patron of the Fine Arts”). The painting is signed in the upper left corner: LUD. DAVID PARISIIS 1805.

David received 10,000 francs for the commission. The portrait was first displayed in the French Senate Gallery at the Château du Luxembourg, and later entered the Musée Napoléon (now the Louvre). David created three known copies of the painting with help from one of his pupils, likely Georges Rouget. Two were commissioned by Napoleon himself—one for the Musée de Fontainebleau, and another for the Château de Versailles. David kept the third version and took it into exile in Brussels, though this version has since been lost.

6. Francis Bacon, Study after Velázquez’s Portrait of Pope Innocent X

The British painter Francis Bacon was deeply obsessed with the original painting by Diego Velázquez, created some 300 years earlier, which we have discussed before. Though Bacon always claimed never to have seen it in person, he surrounded himself with countless reproductions, which he pinned to the walls of his studio. This work is one of the first in a series of around 50 variants of the Velázquez painting, which Bacon executed throughout the 1950s and early 1960s.

In this version, we see a figure of immense power and authority, yet he appears disturbed, trapped, even powerless. The man is mid-scream, but the source of that scream is ambiguous. He seems hemmed in, both emotionally and physically. Strange, golden, tubular forms frame him, evoking the structure of an electric chair.

Bacon often insisted that his work was driven purely by formal concerns and cautioned against reading too much into the imagery. But it’s difficult not to consider the context—this painting was made in 1953, just a few years after the end of World War II, as the world was still coming to terms with the horrors of the Holocaust. During the war, Pope Pius XII (who remained pope until he died in 1958) faced criticism for his inaction in the face of genocide. Some see this painting as a commentary on guilt, silence, and power.

7. Fernando Botero, Pope Leo X (after Raphael)

Yes, time for another reinterpretation of the classic. This painting was created during the formative period of the Colombian artist Fernando Botero, during which he developed his now-iconic style, known as boterismo. It was characterized by voluminous, exaggerated forms, a flattened sense of space, and a simplified color palette. At this stage, Botero was still experimenting, drawing directly from art historical references (which he loved), particularly the Old Masters—including Raphael, Da Vinci, Velázquez, Ingres, and Degas.

In this piece, Botero offers a reinterpretation of Raphael’s Portrait of Leo X, which we saw earlier. It engages in a kind of visual quotation typical of postmodern art, where past styles and icons are recontextualized rather than imitated. Though his forms may appear naïve or primitive, Botero’s approach is rooted less in simplicity and more in a postmodern critique, blending the influences of pre-Columbian aesthetics with the conventions of European classical painting to create a hybrid, ironic visual language.

Botero’s oversized Pope Leo X becomes a grotesquely inflated figure (to the extent that, recently, with the addition of “Y THO” text, it became a famous internet meme), rendered with minimal detail and almost entirely stripped of symbolic attributes. Gone is the psychological depth and formal precision of the Renaissance original; in its place is a monochrome, simplified caricature.

8. Maurizio Cattelan, La Nona Ora (The Ninth Hour)

We need to end this list with a classic of conceptual art. Maurizio Cattelan’s provocative sculpture depicts Pope John Paul II collapsed on the ground, struck down by a meteorite (which weighs 60 kg). The lifelike figure, complete with papal vestments and a pained expression, transforms a global religious icon into a vulnerable, even tragic figure. The work’s title refers to the moment in the Gospels when Christ cries out from the cross, “My God, why have you forsaken me?”—framing the sculpture as a dark, theatrical meditation on suffering, mortality, and divine silence.

In this surreal and absurdist tableau, the Vicar of Christ on Earth meets an end not in glory, but in randomness—felled not by martyrdom or history, but by a cosmic accident, as though in a scene from science fiction. The result is both startlingly irreverent and deeply symbolic. Interpretations vary widely. Some see the work as a critique of the Catholic Church, exposing the fragility beneath its moral authority and its entanglement with scandal. Others view it as a broader allegory about institutional vulnerability, reflecting the impact of a secularized, disenchanted world on traditional pillars of power.

And yet, in the fallen figure of the pope, there may also be a note of resilience—a symbol of faith’s endurance through trial. Perhaps The Ninth Hour is not just a confrontation with destruction, but an invitation to reimagine belief.