Augustus of Prima Porta

Thinking Through Martin Heidegger (1889-1976)’s “The Origin of the Work of Art”

The statue of Augustus is often interpreted as propaganda—a projection of imperial power. But for Heidegger, the work of art is not mere representation. It is the place where a world opens. In this statue, Augustus is not shown as a man but as the center of a Roman cosmos, gathered into marble.

The cuirass displays gods and cosmic order. The stance echoes the contrapposto of Doryphoros—but transformed. The divine ideal now merges with historical specificity. Augustus is no longer an individual but the site where law, divinity, and empire converge. This is the world disclosed by the sculpture. It does not illustrate the Roman order—it brings it into presence.

The earth, meanwhile, does not disappear. The marble retains its density, its opacity. The statue is not motion—it is poised stillness. Heidegger says the temple rests quietly in itself, founding a place. Augustus does the same: he is not just presiding over Rome, he is Rome as presencing. The childlike Cupid at his feet, riding a dolphin, recalls Venus—tying the emperor to divine lineage. But the image is not religious. It is ontological. It says: here, Being rules.

The statue is not a celebration. It is an ontological declaration. It does not ask for admiration. It holds open a space where Roman destiny stands as a structured world, resting on the concealment of its earthy material and historical foundations.