WCXX

Over the centuries, art has often been made to serve the will of political leaders, but few have done so with the efficiency and panache of Augustus and his dynastic successors. From the moment of his decisive victory over Mark Antony in the Battle of Actium off the western coast of Greece in 31 BC, which marked the end of the Roman Republic, Octavian, as he was then known (the senate bestowed the title Augustus, "revered" or "venerable", upon him four years later), demonstrated a sophisticated understanding of how to harness art in order to help him achieve his political objectives. And one of the most effective ways of doing this was quickly to establish an appealing, authoritative and instantly recognisable portrait type.

During the Republic, Roman art was known for its realism. Illustrious men commissioned wrinkly, jowly, warts-and-all portraits that, to modern eyes, look distinctly unflattering. For the ancient Romans, though, these busts were imbued with desirable qualities: gravity, integrity and the wisdom that came with age and experience. The bust from the Louvre of Octavian's powerful and wealthy predecessor Crassus, also on show in the Grand Palais, is a brilliant example of how animated this style could be.

Yet having gained power, Augustus wanted to distance himself from the unrest of the death throes of the Republic, so he commissioned an idealised portrait that emphasised youthfulness, harking back to Classical Greece. According to ancient sources, he didn't care much about how he appeared. Yet looking at the Prima Porta Augustus, you'd never know it: here is someone glamorous rather than grizzled. Realism was no longer fashionable.

Augustus's new portrait proved very popular: more than 150 examples of the type of head found on the statue from Prima Porta have survived. This suggests that, despite ageing, Augustus in his official art continued looking godly and blemish-free, with the locks of his hair carefully arranged on his forehead just so, until his death, aged 75.

The various generic portraits of him in the exhibition at the Grand Palais are staggeringly uniform. They were also discovered in far-flung corners of his empire: from the fragment of a bronze equestrian statue found in the north Aegean Sea, to his mesmerising bronze head, on loan from the British Museum, which hails from modern-day Sudan. Here were the beginnings of art being used to further an imperial cult.

Since the art of autocrats is often risibly heavy-handed, how can we account for Augustus's success? Perhaps his subjects welcomed the new official art because realism felt passé. Certainly, it was associated with the grand and egotistical rulers who had imposed themselves upon the Late Republic with all the wasteful pomp and splendour of Hellenistic kings – and ancient Romans were traditionally mistrustful of monarchs. In public, Augustus was careful to stress his modesty, living in a plain residence rather than a palace on the Palatine Hill, and favouring an official title that styled him as the first citizen among equals.

In private, though, as many of the splendid objects in the exhibition at the Grand Palais attest, the art commissioned by Augustus and his aristocratic inner circle was often sumptuous and surprisingly courtly. The Blacas Cameo, for instance, tells the true story of the extent of Augustus's power. Carved exquisitely from a lustrous three-layered stone known as sardonyx, it is a fitting image for a king. Augustus was reinvigorating the tradition of Hellenistic kingship by stealth.

In general, though, Augustan art and architecture, with its classicising tendencies and technical virtuosity, was designed to chime with his rhetoric that his reign represented a fresh start. Following the strife of the Republic, Augustus promised to bring about prosperity and peace. Accordingly, a paradise-like sense of the abundance of the natural world is one of the chief themes of the art on display in the Grand Palais. A good example of this is the enchanting design of the exact replica of a lost silver crater from Hildesheim in Germany, with its tiny figures cavorting with lobsters and dolphins amid scrolling, delightfully attenuated foliage.

To reinforce his message, Augustus regulated the economy by minting crisply designed gold and silver coins that were tokens of his authority. He also initiated a monumental building programme across Rome. On his watch, it was said, the capital of the empire went from a lamentable city of brick to a marvellous metropolis of marble.

Arguably, though, his greatest feat was to establish a political regime that would last for decades after his death. From glass, gems, silverware and alabaster vessels, to vast theatres and temples, the art and architecture that emerged under Augustus was so effective at promoting his point of view that his stepson Tiberius was able to succeed him unopposed. Given the protracted battles that Augustus, himself, had to fight in order to win power, this was a very significant achievement indeed.

Until July 13. Information: www.grandpalais.fr/en

REVIEW: VERONESE: MAGNIFICENCE IN RENAISSANCE VENICE, NATIONAL GALLERY