She wasn't actually Russian. That’s the first thing you have to wrap your head around when looking at any Catherine the Great painting. Born Sophie of Anhalt-Zerbst, a minor German princess, she basically willed herself into becoming the most powerful woman in the world. She didn't just sit for portraits because she was vain. Every brushstroke was a calculated move in a high-stakes game of PR.
Imagine seizing a throne from your husband in a bloody coup and then having to convince an entire empire—and a skeptical Europe—that you belong there. You’d need more than just a crown. You’d need an image.
The art she commissioned wasn't just "art." It was propaganda.
The Coronation Image and the Art of Legitimacy
When Catherine took power in 1762, she had a massive problem. She had no blood claim to the Romanov throne. None. To fix this, she turned to the most famous portraitists of the era. If you look at the coronation portrait by Vigilius Eriksen, it’s intense. She isn't just wearing a nice dress; she is literally draped in the symbols of the Russian Empire.
She's holding the scepter and the orb. The Great Imperial Crown—encrusted with nearly 5,000 diamonds—sits on her head. The message was simple: I am the Empress by right, not just by force. Most people don't notice the subtle stuff. Look at the way she stands. It’s a "heroic" stance usually reserved for kings. She’s leaning slightly forward, commanding the space. Eriksen painted her several times, but the equestrian portrait is the one that really flips the script. She’s on a massive white horse, dressed in a male military uniform. It’s bold. It’s aggressive. It told the Russian guardsmen who put her on the throne that she was one of them.
Honestly, it’s kinda brilliant. She knew that in an age before TV or social media, the Catherine the Great painting hanging in a diplomat's hallway or a noble's estate was the only way people would "know" her.
Rokotov and the "Soft" Power of Enlightenment
As her reign went on, the vibe changed. She didn't just want to be seen as a conqueror; she wanted to be the "Philosopher on the Throne." This is where Fedor Rokotov comes in.
Rokotov’s 1763 portrait is probably the most famous one you’ll see in textbooks. It’s a profile view. Why a profile? Because it mimics the look of ancient Roman coins. It connects her to the lineage of Great Emperors like Augustus. But there’s a softness to it, too. Her expression is intelligent, maybe even a little bit smug. She’s leaning towards a bust of Peter the Great.
She was obsessed with Peter.
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By placing herself next to him in her portraits, she was telling the world, "I am the true successor to Peter’s legacy." It didn't matter that she was German. In the world of 18th-century oil painting, she was more Russian than the Russians.
The Hermitage and the Power of the Collection
You can't talk about a Catherine the Great painting without talking about the ones she bought, not just the ones she posed for. She was a compulsive art buyer. She once joked that she wasn't a "connoisseur" but a "glutton" for art.
In 1764, she bought 225 paintings from a Berlin dealer named Johann Ernst Gotzkowsky. This wasn't just a shopping spree. Gotzkowsky had originally gathered these paintings for Frederick the Great of Prussia, but Frederick couldn't afford them after the Seven Years' War. Catherine swooped in and bought the whole lot just to flex on him.
This collection became the foundation of the Hermitage Museum.
By filling her palace with Rembrandts and Rubens, she was signaling that Russia was no longer a "backwater" at the edge of the world. It was a cultural superpower. If you visited the Winter Palace and saw rooms overflowing with the finest European art, you knew Russia had arrived. It was the ultimate "fake it till you make it" strategy, except she actually made it.
Dmitry Levitzky and the Iconic Minerva Image
Later in her life, the imagery got even more symbolic. Dmitry Levitzky’s "Catherine the Great in the Temple of Justice" (1783) is basically a puzzle of Enlightenment ideals.
She isn't wearing the heavy imperial robes here. Instead, she’s in a white silk gown that looks almost like a priestess’s outfit. She’s burning poppies on an altar. Poppies symbolize sleep or peace. She was literally showing herself sacrificing her own rest for the good of the laws and the state.
It’s heavy-handed, sure. But it worked.
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The painting also features a statue of Themis (Justice) and a pile of books—representing her "Nakaz" or the Instruction, her massive legal code project. She wanted to be seen as the lawmaker, the one who brought order to the chaos of the Russian wilderness.
What Most People Get Wrong About Her Portraits
There's a common misconception that Catherine just wanted to look "pretty." Actually, she was surprisingly okay with showing her age, as long as she looked authoritative.
The portrait by Vladimir Borovikovsky (1794) is a great example of this. In it, she’s an older woman taking a walk in the park at Tsarskoye Selo. She’s wearing a simple bonnet and a casual coat. Her dog, a Greyhound named Zemira, is at her feet.
It feels personal. Almost intimate.
But even this was a move. By the 1790s, the French Revolution was terrifying every monarch in Europe. Kings and queens were losing their heads. Catherine used this painting to say, "Look, I’m just a grandmotherly figure, a mother to my people, walking in my garden. I’m not a tyrant; I’m a benevolent protector."
She was constantly managing her "brand" through these images.
The Mystery of the "Replica" Culture
One thing that trips up historians is how many versions of a Catherine the Great painting exist. Back then, if a portrait was successful, the artist's studio would crank out dozens of copies.
- State officials needed them for their offices.
- Foreign monarchs received them as diplomatic gifts.
- Nobles bought them to prove their loyalty.
This means you might find "the" Catherine portrait in a dozen different museums today. Not all of them are "original" in the way we think of them now, but they were all "official." She had to approve the prototype before the copies were sent out into the world.
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The Darker Side of the Canvas
We have to be honest: these paintings hide a lot. You won't see the crushing reality of serfdom in a Levitzky portrait. You won't see the brutal suppression of the Pugachev Rebellion. You won't see the toll of the Russo-Turkish wars.
The paintings were the "Instagram filter" of the 18th century. They curated a version of Russia that was enlightened, wealthy, and stable, even when the reality was much more fractured. Catherine was a master of the "gaze." She knew that if people saw her as a goddess or a wise lawgiver often enough, they would start to believe it.
How to View These Paintings Today
If you really want to understand the power of a Catherine the Great painting, you have to look past the surface. Don't just look at the jewelry. Look at the hands. Look at the objects on the tables.
Reference the work of art historians like Rosalind P. Blakesley, who has done incredible work documenting how Russian portraiture defined the nation's identity. She points out that Catherine was one of the first rulers to truly understand that art was a tool of statecraft.
When you see a portrait of her today—whether it's in the State Russian Museum in St. Petersburg or the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York—you aren't just looking at a woman. You're looking at a carefully constructed political manifesto that has survived for over 250 years.
Actionable Insights for Art Lovers and Historians
If you're looking to dive deeper into this world, here is how you can actually experience the legacy of Catherine's visual reign:
- Visit the Hermitage Digital Collection: You don't have to fly to Russia to see her impact. The Hermitage museum has a massive online database. Search for "Eriksen" or "Levitzky" to see high-res versions of the works she commissioned.
- Study the "Nakaz": To understand the symbolism in her later portraits (like the books and altars), read a summary of her "Instruction" to the Legislative Commission. It explains the Enlightenment values she was trying to project.
- Check Local "Grand Tour" Exhibits: Many US and European museums have "Grand Tour" or "18th Century European" wings. Look for portraits of Catherine’s contemporaries (like Maria Theresa of Austria or Frederick the Great) to see how her "branding" differed from other monarchs of the time.
- Analyze the Fashion: Pay attention to the "Russian Dress" she wears in later portraits. It was a specific style she mandated at court to promote national identity over French fashion. Seeing this in a painting tells you exactly when she started leaning into "Russianness" over her German roots.
She was more than a ruler; she was a director of her own life's movie. And the paintings were the posters that sold the show to the world.