The Italian sculptor, painter, architect, and poet Michelangelo was born in Caprese, a hill town not far from Florence, in 1474. The town was located only six miles away from a marble quarry that provided local sculptors with their life blood for many years. It was to flow through Michelangelo’s veins stronger than any other. One particular chunk of marble, though destined for greatness, began its journey in 1463 when Agostino di Duccio was commissioned to create a sculpture of the Biblical David.
Douglas Reid explains.
A 19th century photo of Michelangelo’s state of David. This was when the statue was still outside the Palazzo Vecchio. Taken by John Brampton Philpot.
Marble was provided from the famous quarry in Carrara, a marble mine close to Caprese. The combination of marble and Agostino soon waned. The sculptor abandoned the commission and the statue three years later in 1466. In three years all he had achieved was beginning to shape the legs. It was time to try again. Enter one Antonio Rossollino. His stewardship was to be even shorter. This time the block of marble was to lie unattended for 26 years. During this dry time the marble was so neglected the outline of an Apollo was pressed, in ignoble fashion, face down to the ground. It looked much the same as a contemporary hockey goaltender face down, scrambling to find the puck. An expensive hunk of marble had lain fallow too long.
Michelangelo is chosen
The Operai were determined to find an artist who could take this large piece of marble and transform it into a finished piece of art. They ordered the block of stone, which they called the giant, raised to its feet. Leonardo, among others, was consulted, and it was Michelangelo who convinced the Operai that he deserved the commission. Michelangelo began carving the statue early in the morning of September 13, 1501. He would work on it between 1501 and 1504.
David was installed close to the Palazzo Vecchio. It took four days to move the statue half a mile from Michelangelo’s workshop to the Piazza della Signoria. Later that summer a sling and tree stump support were gilded, and the figure was given a gilded loin-garland.
In 1873, the statue of David was removed from the piazza, to protect it from damage, and displayed in the Accademia Gallery, Florence. More recent times have brought grief. In 1991, Piero Cannata, an artist who the police described as unwell, attacked the statue with a hammer he had concealed in his jacket. He later claimed that a 16th century Venetian painter’s model had ordered him to do so. Later testing confirmed that Piero had mental health issues. The height of Michelangelo’s masterpiece is 16 feet and it checks in at 16 tons. Still, many tourists believe they have spotted a flaw in assessing David’s hands. They do look too large, and in fact they are too large – at ground level but original plans called for David to be lifted to the Church’s roof line and hands are foreshortened at height.
Where David looks
In fact, where a Renaissance sculpture is placed is revealing. For that matter, so is the Medici family. And you will notice a steady orange glare emanates from David. It is like the steady fire from the eye of a tiger. The spectator feels as much as he feels the tension of the moment. This is because wherever the statue is placed, whether indoors or outdoors, it is always facing south. This is because Rome is south, as is the Medici family. Each of which is south of Florence. David is staring down the Romans.
To understand this you have to understand the history of the Italian peninsula. Tuscany is an important province in the North and blonde Tuscans are not rare. Southern Italians are generally of darker complexions. Italy was poorer in the South and consequently the great majority of Italian migrants to North America are from the southern parts of Italy. Ergo, the rest of us believe all Italians have dark hair and olive skin. This rivalry can be seen on the soccer pitch. If, for example, a foreign team is playing against a team from say, Naples, you can count on the Tuscan fans to be cheering for the foreign team. And that is why David’s brilliant eyes are focused as they are. It is time we look at David’s creator.
Michelangelo tales
Michelangelo is probably not who you think he is either. In street language Michelangelo was a surly slob. As a youngster he avoided normal schooling and spent virtually all his free time helping older established artists with their painting and their sculpture. His fights with others were numerous. But he clearly showed uncommon ability in both painting and sculpture. He was also an accomplished poet. It seems as though the Deity gave so much to Michelangelo in these that he harbored no other gifts for him. For openers Michelangelo Buonarotti was ugly. His face was gathered round a flattened pug nose. His body was misshapen and ungainly. His clothes were always crinkled – probably because he often slept in them. He routinely scuffled around both artists and art works in a pair of unlaced muddy boots. Not surprising then, to learn that he never married. Like we said he was also surly.
There is a Michelangelo story that has been handed down which, if not true, should be. It seems that our hero was walking down a Florence street when he spotted his great rival, Leonardo, walking with friends on the other side. Michelangelo threw some taunts at him. The upshot was one of Leonardo’s friends crossed the street for the purpose of further re-arranging that famous nose. Why do I have the feeling I am writing West Side Story?
Conclusion
Some final thoughts on the Michelangelo who matters – that sublime artist who created David. Why do I rate his David over the Pope’s ceiling? The latter is not cut from whole cloth. It is really 12 or so Bible stories sharing the same space. David, by contrast, presents a unified whole. What about Da Vinci’s Mona Lisa? Here the key comparison is one of scope. The Mona Lisa is relatively small. Michelangelo is of Olympian scope. What is more, while the painting took hours to create the sculpture required years.
A final tale to tell. Here I was standing in a two-hour line-up to see David for the first time when a conversation was commenced with a young lady who was next in line. The conversation went something like this:
- Have you seen David before?
- Oh yes.
- And you are back again?
- The first time I was here I was over whelmed. At the time I was an economics major. After my visit here I returned home, sold my economic texts and registered in an arts program.
I rest my case.
What do you think of the author’s view on Michelangelo and the statue of David? Let us know below.
Now, you can read more from Douglas here, with an article on the man whose book may have led to the American Revolution.
