Michael Angelo Buonarroti
By Charles Holroyd,
Keeper of the National Gallery of British Art, with Translations of the
Life of the Master by His Scholar, Ascanio Condivi, and Three Dialogues
from the Portuguese by Francisco d'Ollanda
London
Duckworth and Company
New York
Charles Scribner's Sons
1903
[Frontispiece]
MICHAEL ANGELO
From an early proof of the engraving by
GIULIO BONASONI
(_In the Print Room of the British Museum_)
CONTENTS
Preface
Illustrations
PART I
CHAPTER I
CHAPTER II
CHAPTER III
CHAPTER IV
CHAPTER V
CHAPTER VI
CHAPTER VII
CHAPTER VIII
CHAPTER IX
CHAPTER X
CHAPTER XI
PART II
CHAPTER I
CHAPTER II
CHAPTER III
CHAPTER IV
CHAPTER V
CHAPTER VI
CHAPTER VII
CHAPTER VIII
CHAPTER IX
CHAPTER X
CHAPTER XI
APPENDIX
FIRST DIALOGUE
SECOND DIALOGUE
THIRD DIALOGUE
THE WORKS OF MICHAEL ANGELO
A LIST OF THE PRINCIPAL BOOKS CONSULTED BY THE AUTHOR
ERRATUM
INDEX
PREFACE
Of all the many lives of Michael Angelo that have been written, that by
his friend and pupil, Ascanio Condivi, is the most valuable. For not only
is it a contemporary record, like the lives inserted by Giorgio Vasari in
the two editions of his famous book, "The Lives of the Most Eminent
Painters, Sculptors, and Architects," published in Florence in 1550 and
1568; but Condivi's work has almost the authority of an autobiography,
many phrases are in the same words, as certain letters in the hand of
Michael Angelo still in existence, especially those relating to the early
life and the ancestry of the master, to his favourite nephew Lionardo, and
concerning the whole story of the Tragedy of the Tomb to Francesco
Fattucci and others.
Condivi's description of his master's personal appearance is so detailed
that we can see him with his sculptor's callipers measuring the head of
his dear master, and gazing earnestly into his eyes, recording the colours
of their scintillations, with the patience of a painter.
Vasari's account has been translated more than once, but Condivi's never,
at least never completely. Extracts have been given, and it has been the
main resource of every writer on the master; but the faithful and reverent
character of the whole work can only be given in a complete translation,
its transparent honesty, and its loving devotion. Even had the subject of
this naif and unscholarly narrative been an ordinary man in an ordinary
period, it would have been worth translating for its truth to life and
human nature, much more, therefore, when it is about the greatest
craftsman of the Cinque Cento.
Condivi published his "Vita di Michael Angelo Buonarroti" on July 16,
1553; probably incited thereto by the master himself, who desired to
correct certain misstatements of his excellent friend, Giorgio Vasari,
without hurting that worthy's feelings. Nevertheless, we gather from what
Vasari says in his second edition that he somewhat resented the appearance
of this new biographer. Perhaps this coloured his unflattering account of
Condivi as an artist, when describing Michael Angelo's scholars: "Ascanio
della Ripa took great pains, but no results have been seen, whether in
designs or finished works. He spent several years over a picture for which
Michael Angelo had given him the cartoon, and, at a word, the hopes
conceived of him have vanished in smoke." What a good thing it would have
been for Vasari's reputation if his art work had vanished in smoke, too,
and only his biographies remained. Condivi lives, as he said he wished to
live, in the dedication of his work to Pope Julius III., with the name of
being a faithful servant and disciple of Michael Angelo.
A second edition of the "Vita di Michael Angelo," by Ascanio Condivi, was
published at Florence in 1746. The introduction informs us that Condivi
was born at Ripa Transona, and that he outlived his master ten years,
dying on February 17, 1563 (1564), aged nearly eighty-nine years.
The second part of this book may be regarded as an appendix(1) to Condivi.
It is a supplementary account of the existing works of the master, and
details of their fashioning that may help us to realise the mystery of
their production, from contemporary documents: letters, contracts, and the
life by Vasari, with some few explanations that will not interest the
learned, but may help young students of the works of the great master.
Londoners have peculiar facilities for this study. The bas-relief in the
Diploma Gallery of the Royal Academy, the drawings in the British Museum,
and the unfinished and altered picture at the National Gallery, are an
excellent foundation from which to study the casts at Kensington and in
the Crystal Palace (the latter are unique in this country, but, alas! in a
poor state now). Students of to-day have one immense advantage over those
of former times in the magnificent series of photographs that have been
issued, especially those of the vault of the Sistine Chapel, which may
almost be said never to have been so well seen before.
Since this book went to press, the author has seen an antique intaglio,
No. 210 in the Estense Collection at Modena, which he is informed came
from Ferrara in 1598, representing a Leda. This confirms the view
expressed in the note on page 61, as to the genesis of the Leda by Michael
Angelo, for it is exactly similar in composition.
The author desires to express his gratitude to many friends for valuable
advice and assistance, especially to his wife for help in the
translations, and to Mr. S. Arthur Strong for kindly looking over the
proofs, and other aid; to the Earl of Leicester, of Holkham, for
permission to photograph and reproduce the Cartoon at Holkham Hall; to the
trustees of the British Museum and Mr. Sidney Colvin for facilities to
reproduce two engravings in the Print Room; to the Signori Fratelli
Alinari, Signor Anderson, Mm. Braun et Cie., and Signor Brogi, for kindly
allowing their photographs to be used in making the illustrations.
ILLUSTRATIONS
MICHAEL ANGELO
THE RAPE OF DEIANEIRA AND THE BATTLE OF THE CENTAURS
THE ANGEL AT THE SHRINE OF SAINT DOMINIC
THE MADONNA BELLA PIETA
DAVID
DAVID
SAINT MATTHEW
THE MADONNA AND CHILD, WITH THE CHILD SAINT JOHN
THE HOLY FAMILY
THE CARTOON OF PISA
MOSES
TWO OF THE UNFINISHED MARBLE STATUES IN THE GROTTO OF THE BOBOLI GARDENS,
FLORENCE
THE CREATION OF THE SUN AND MOON, AND OF THE TREES AND HERBS
CREATION OF MAN
CREATION OF MAN
THE CREATION OF EVE
THE EXPULSION
THE DELUGE
ATHLETE
ATHLETE
ATHLETE
ATHLETE
THE DELPHIC SIBYL
THE PROPHET JOEL
THE PROPHET EZEKIEL
THE PROPHET DANIEL
THE LIBYAN SIBYL
THE PROPHET JEREMIAH
THE FLOOD
THE BRAZEN SERPENT
JUDITH WITH THE HEAD OF HOLOFERNES
ONE OF THE ANCESTORS OF CHRIST, OVER THE WINDOW INSCRIBED "JESSE"
ONE OF THE ANCESTORS OF CHRIST, OVER THE WINDOW INSCRIBED "IORAM"
ONE OF THE ANCESTORS OF CHRIST, OVER THE WINDOW INSCRIBED "ASA"
THE PROPHET JONAH
THE TOMB OF LORENZO DE' MEDICI, DUKE OF URBINO
THE TOMB OF GIULIANO DE' MEDICI, DUKE OF NEMOURS
LORENZO DE MEDICI, DUKE OF URBINO
THE HEAD OF THE DAWN
APOLLO
THE HEAD OF THE NIGHT
NIGHT
THE MADONNA AND CHILD
THE DAY OF JUDGMENT
THE JUDGE. FROM "THE DAY OF JUDGMENT"
SPIRITS OF THE BLESSED, PART OF "THE DAY OF JUDGMENT"
THE CRUCIFIXION OF SAINT PETER
THE CONVERSION OF SAINT PAUL
THE PIETA OF SANTA MARIA DEL FIORE
BRUTUS
PART I
THE LIFE OF MICHAEL ANGELO BUONARROTI,
BY HIS SCHOLAR ASCANIO CONDIVI,
TRANSLATED BY CHARLES HOLROYD
CHAPTER I
THE RAPE OF DEIANIRA, OR THE BATTLE OF THE CENTAURS AND THE ANGEL OF THE
SHRINE OF SAINT DOMINIC
Michael Angelo Buonarroti, the unique painter and sculptor, was descended
from the Counts of Canossa, a noble and illustrious family of the land of
Reggio, both on account of their own worth and antiquity, and because they
had Imperial blood in their veins.(2) For Beatrice, sister of Enrico II.,
was given in marriage to Count Bonifazio of Canossa, then Signor of
Mantua; the Countess Matilda was their daughter, a lady of rare and
singular prudence and piety; who, after the death of her husband
Gottifredo, held in Italy (besides Mantua) Lucca, Parma, Reggio, and part
of Tuscany, which to-day is called the Patrimonio of San Pietro; and,
having in her lifetime done many things worthy of memory, died and was
buried in the Badia of San Benedetto, beyond the walls of Mantua, which
abbey she had built, and largely endowed.
II. Messer Simone then, of this family, coming to Florence as Podesta(3)
in the year 1250, was deemed worthy of being made a citizen, and head of a
_sesitiere_ or sixth part of the town, for into so many wards was the
township divided at that time; to-day the wards are _quartieri_ or fourth
parts. The Guelph party were in power in Florence, and he, from Ghibelline
that he was, became Guelph, because of the many benefits he received from
that faction, changing the colour of his coat-of-arms, which originally
was gules, a dog rampant with a bone in his mouth, argent--to azure, a dog
or; and the Signoria afterwards granted him five lilies, gules, in a
Rastrello, and at the same time the crest with two horns of a bull, the
one or, and the other azure, as may be seen to this day painted on their
ancient shields; the old arms of Messer Simone may be seen in the palace
of the Podesta, carved in marble by his orders, according to the custom of
those who held that office.
III. The reason why the family in Florence changed their name from Canossa
to de'Buonarroti was because the name Buonarroto was usual in their house
from age to age, almost always, down to the time of Michael Angelo
himself, who had a brother called Buonarroto, and many of these Buonarroti
being of the Signori, that is of the supreme magistracy of the Republic;
the said brother especially, who was of that body at the time when Pope
Leo was in Florence, as may be seen in the annals of the city; this name
held by so many of them became a surname for the whole family, the more
easily as it is the custom of Florence in the lists of voters and other
nomination papers, after the proper name of the citizen, to add that of
his father, his grandfather, his great-grandfather, and even of those
further removed. Therefore, from the many Buonarroti thus continued, and
from that Simone who was the first of the family to settle in Florence,
and who was of the House of Canossa, they became Buonarroti Simoni, for so
they are called at this day. Lastly, Pope Leo X. being at Florence,
besides many other privileges, gave to this family the right to bear on
their coat the palla or ball, azure, of the arms of the House of Medici,
with three lilies, or
IV. Of such family, then, was Michael Angelo born; his father's name was
Lodovico di Leonardo Buonarroti Simoni, a good and religious man, somewhat
old-fashioned. Michael Angelo was born to him whilst he was Podesta of
Chiusi and Caprese(4) in the Casentino, in the year of our salvation
1474,(5) on the sixth day of March, four hours before daylight on a
Monday. A fine nativity truly, which showed how great the child would be
and of how noble a genius; for the planet Mercury with Venus in seconda
being received into the house of Jupiter with benign aspect, promised what
afterwards followed, that the birth should be of a noble and high genius,
able to succeed in every undertaking, but principally in those arts that
delight the senses, such as painting, sculpture, and architecture. Having
completed his term of office, the father returned to Florence and put the
child out to nurse in the village of Settignano, three miles from the
city, where he had a property, which was one of the first places in that
country bought by Messer Simone da Canossa. The nurse was a daughter of a
stone-carver and the wife of a stone-carver, so Michael Angelo used to say
jestingly, but perhaps in earnest too, that it was no wonder he delighted
in the use of the chisel, knowing that the milk of the foster-mother has
such power in us that often it will change the disposition, one bent being
thus altered to another of a very different nature.
V. The child grew and came to be of a reasonable age. His father, noticing
his ability, desired that he should devote himself to letters; he
therefore sent him to the school of a certain Maestro Francesco da Urbino,
who in those days taught grammar in Florence;(6) but although Michael
Angelo made progress in these studies, still the heavens and his nature,
both difficult to withstand, drew him towards the study of painting, so
that he could not resist, whenever he could steal the time, drawing now
here, now there, and seeking the company of painters. Amongst his familiar
friends was Francesco Granacci, a scholar of Domenico del Grillandaio,(7)
who, seeing the ardent longing and burning desire of the child, determined
to aid him, and continually exhorted him to the study of art, now lending
him drawings and now taking him with him to the workshops of his master
when some works were going forward from which he might learn. These sights
moved Michael Angelo so powerfully, following as they did his nature,
which never ceased to urge him, that he altogether abandoned letters. So
that his father and his uncles, who held the art in contempt, were much
displeased, and often beat him severely for it: they were so ignorant of
the excellence and nobility of art that they thought shame to have her in
the house. This, however much he disliked it, was not enough to turn him
back, but, on the contrary, made him more bold: he wished to begin to
colour, and he borrowed a print from Granacci which represented the story
of St. Antony when he was beaten by devils. The engraver was a certain
Martino d'Olanda,(8) a brave artist for that time. Michael Angelo painted
it on a panel of wood, Granacci lending him colours and brushes, in such a
manner that not only did it raise the admiration of every one who saw it,
but also envy, as some will have it, even in Domenico, the most famous
painter of the day; as may be seen by what happened afterwards. Domenico
used to say that the painting came from his own workshop in order to make
it appear less wonderful. In this little picture, besides the figure of
the Saint, there were many strange forms and monstrosities in the demons;
these Michael Angelo executed with so much care that no part of them was
coloured without reference to the natural object from which it had been
derived. For that purpose he frequented the fish-market and observed the
forms and tints of the scales and fins of fish and the colours of their
eyes and all their other parts, copying them in his picture, which much
conduced to the perfection of that work, exciting the wonder of the world,
and, as I have said, some envy in Grillandaio; this was much more seen one
day when Michael Angelo asked to see his book of drawings in which were
represented shepherds with their flocks and dogs, landscapes, buildings,
ruins, and such like things. Domenico would not lend it to him--indeed, he
had the reputation of being a little envious: for not only was he hardly
courteous to Michael Angelo, but even to his own brother, when he saw that
he was progressing rapidly and having great hopes of himself: he sent him
into France, not so much that it might be to his advantage, as some say,
but that he himself might remain the first artist in Florence. The reason
I have mentioned this is because I have heard it said that the son of
Domenico attributes the excellence and divinity of Michael Angelo in great
part to the training he received from his father: he received absolutely
no assistance from him;(9) nevertheless, Michael Angelo does not complain
of it, nay, even praises Domenico both for his art and his manners. But
this is a slight digression; let us return to our story.
VI. Possibly not less wonderful was another labour of Michael Angelo's
done at this time, perhaps as a jest. Some one lent him a drawing of a
head to copy; he returned his copy to the owner instead of the original
and the deception was not noticed, but the boy talking and laughing about
it with one of his companions it was found out. Many people compared the
two and found no difference in them, for besides the perfection of the
drawing, Michael Angelo had smoked the paper to make it appear of the same
age as the original. This brought him a great reputation.(10)
VII. Now drawing one thing and now another, the boy had no fixed plan or
method of study. It happened one day that Granacci took him to the gardens
of the Medici at San Marco. In this garden the Magnificent Lorenzo, father
of Pope Leo, a man renowned for every excellence, had disposed many
antique statues and decorative sculptures. Michael Angelo, seeing these
things and appreciating the beauty of them, never afterwards went to the
workshop of Domenico, but spent every day at the gardens, as in a better
school, always working at something or other. Amongst the rest, he studied
one day the head of a Faun, in appearance very old, with a long beard and
a laughing face, although the mouth could hardly be seen because of the
injuries of time. As if knowing what would be, or because he liked the
style of it, he determined to copy it in marble. The Magnificent Lorenzo
was having some marble worked and dressed in that place to ornament the
most noble library that he and his ancestors had gathered together from
all parts of the world. (These works, suspended on account of the death of
Lorenzo and other accidents, were, after many years, carried on by Pope
Clement, but even then they were left unfinished, so that the books are
still packed in chests.) Now these marbles being worked, as I said,
Michael Angelo begged a piece from the masons and borrowed a chisel from
them: with so much diligence and intelligence did he copy that Faun that
in a few days it was carried to perfection, his imagination supplying all
that was missing in the antique, such as the lips, open, as in a man who
is laughing, so that the hollow of the mouth was seen with all the teeth.
At this moment passed the Magnificent to see how his works progressed; he
found the child, who was busy polishing the head. He spoke to him at once,
noticing in the first place the beauty of the work, and having regard to
the lad's youth he marvelled exceedingly, and although he praised the
workmanship he none the less joked with him as with a child, saying: "_Oh!
you have made this Faun very old, and yet have left him all his teeth: do
you not know that old men of that age always lack some of them?_" It
seemed a thousand years to Michael Angelo before the Magnificent went away
and he remained alone to correct his error. He cut away a tooth from the
upper jaw, drilling a hole in the gums as though it had come out by the
roots.(11) He awaited the return of the Magnificent upon another day with
great longing. At last he came. Seeing the willingness and
single-mindedness of the child he laughed very much, but afterwards
appreciating the beauty of the thing and the boy's youth, as father of all
talent he thought to bestow his favour upon such a genius and take him
into his house, and hearing from him whose son he was, he said: "_Let your
father know that I desire to speak with him._"
VIII. When he got home Michael Angelo carried out the embassy of the
Magnificent; his father divining why he was called, with great persuasion
from Granacci and others made ready to go: lamenting to himself that his
son would be taken away. Stating, moreover, that he would never suffer his
son to be a stonemason, it was useless for Granacci to explain how great
was the difference between a sculptor and a mason. After all this long
disputation he ultimately was ushered into the presence of the
Magnificent, who asked him if he would deliver his son over to his care,
for he would not neglect him; "_Even so,_" he replied, "_not only Michael
Angelo, but all of us, with our lives and all our best faculties, are at
the service of your Magnificence._" And when the Magnificent asked what he
could do for himself, he replied: "_I have never practised any profession;
but have always lived upon my small income and attended to the small
property left to me by my ancestors; trying not only to keep it up
properly, but also endeavouring to increase it as far as I may with my
powers and by my diligence._" The Magnificent then replied: "_Very well,
look about you, see if there is not something in Florence that will suit
you; make use of me; I will do the best I can for you._" And so dismissing
the old man, he gave Michael Angelo a good room in his own house with all
that he needed,(12) treating him like a son, with a seat at his table,
which was frequented every day by noblemen and men of great affairs. Now
they had a custom that those who were present at the beginning of a meal
should take their places next to the Magnificent according to their rank,
and should not change them, no matter who came in afterwards; so that
often Michael Angelo was seated even above the sons of Lorenzo and other
persons of quality; for in that house noble persons abounded: by all of
them Michael Angelo was caressed and incited to his honourable work; but
above all by the Magnificent, who would often call for him many times in
the day to show him engraved gems,(13) cornelians, medals, and such like
things of great price, seeing that he had genius and good judgment.
IX. Michael Angelo was between fifteen and sixteen years of age when he
entered the house of the Magnificent, and he stayed with him until his
death, which was in ninety-two,(14) a space of two years. During that time
an office in the customs fell vacant which could only be held by a
Florentine citizen; so Lodovico, the father of Michael Angelo, came to the
Magnificent and spoke for it: "_Lorenzo, I can do nothing but read and
write; the comrade of Marco Pucci in the Dogana is dead. I should like to
have his place. I believe I shall be able to carry out the duties
properly._" The Magnificent put his hand upon his shoulder and, smiling,
said: "_You will always be poor_," for he expected that he would ask for
some great thing. However, he continued, "_If you will be the comrade of
Marco, be it so, till something better turns up_." This place brought him
eight scudi(15) the month, a little more or a little less.
X. In the meantime Michael Angelo prosecuted his studies, showing the
result of his labours to the Magnificent each day. In the same house lived
Poliziano, a man, as every one knows, and as is testified by his works,
most learned and witty. This man recognising the lofty spirit of Michael
Angelo loved him exceedingly, and little as he needed it, spurred him on
in his studies, always explaining things to him and giving him subjects.
One day, amongst others, he suggested "The Rape of Deianira" and "The
Battle of the Centaurs," telling him in detail the whole of the story.
Michael Angelo set himself to carve it out in marble in mezzo-rilievo, and
so well did he succeed, that I remember to have heard him say that when he
saw it again he recognised how much wrong he had done to his nature in not
following promptly the art of sculpture, judging by that work how well he
might have succeeded, nor does he say this boastingly, he was a most
modest man, but because he truly laments having been so unfortunate that
by the fault of others he has sometimes been ten or twelve years doing
nothing, as will be seen presently. This particular work may still be seen
in Florence in his house; the figures are about two palms high.(16) He had
hardly finished this work when the Magnificent Lorenzo passed out of this
life, and Michael Angelo returned to his father's house. So much grief did
he feel for his patron's death that for many days he was unable to work.
When he was himself again he bought a large piece of marble, that had for
many years been exposed to the wind and rain, and carved a Hercules out of
it, four braccia high, that was ultimately sent into France.(17)
XI. Whilst he was working at this statue there was a great snowstorm in
Florence, and Pier de' Medici, the eldest son of Lorenzo, who occupied the
same position as his father, wished childishly to have a statue of snow
made in the middle of the court-yard, so he remembered Michael Angelo, and
had him found and made him carve the statue.(18) He desired him to live in
his house as he had done in his father's time, and gave him the same
apartment and a place at the table as before; where the same customs
obtained as when the father was living, that is, that after they had sat
down at the beginning of a meal no one should change his place however
great might be the personage who came in afterwards.
XII. Lodovico, the father of Michael Angelo, now became more friendly to
his son, seeing that he was almost always in the society of great
personages, and he dressed him in finer clothes. The youth lived with
Piero some months and was much caressed by him. Piero used to say,
boastingly, that he had two remarkable men in his establishment: one was
Michael Angelo, and the other a certain Spanish groom who, besides being
marvellously beautiful to look upon, was so nimble and strong and so
long-winded that, let Piero ride as fast as he could, he was not able to
pass the runner by a finger.
XIII. At this time, Michael Angelo, to please the Prior of Santo Spirito,
a church much venerated in Florence, carved a crucifix in wood, a little
under life size, which to this day may be seen over the high altar of that
church.(19) He had much familiar intercourse with the Prior, and received
many kindnesses from him, amongst others the use of a room and subjects to
enable him to study anatomy. Nothing could have given him more pleasure,
and this was the beginning of his study of the science of anatomy, which
he followed until fortune had made him a master of it.(20)
XIV. There was living in the house of Piero a certain man named Cardiere,
who had been very acceptable to the Magnifico, he improvised songs to the
lyre most marvellously; in fact, he made a profession of it, and practised
his art nearly every evening after supper. This man was friendly with
Michael Angelo and imparted to him a vision, which was this: That Lorenzo
de' Medici had appeared to him with nothing but a black cloak, all torn,
over his naked body, and had commanded him to speak to his son, and tell
him that shortly he would be hunted out of his house and never return to
it again. Piero de' Medici was so proud and insolent that neither the
generosity of his brother, Giovanni the Cardinal, nor the courtesy and
kindness of Giuliano, were so powerful to keep him in Florence as those
vices were to hunt him out. Michael Angelo exhorted Cardiere to inform
Piero of the vision and carry out the will of Lorenzo, but he, fearing
Piero's nature, kept all to himself. One other morning Michael Angelo was
in the court-yard of the Palace, and beheld Cardiere all terrified and
weeping: that night, he said, Lorenzo had appeared to him again in the
same form as at first, and looking him through and through had given him a
terrible box on the ears, because he had not reported what he had seen to
Piero. Michael Angelo scolded him to such purpose that Cardiere plucked up
his spirit and set out on foot for Careggi, a country house of the Medici,
about three miles from the city, where his master was staying. But when he
was half-way there he met Piero on the road returning home to Florence;
Cardiere stopped him and told him all he had seen and heard. Piero only
laughed at him, and made even his grooms jeer at him. The Chancellor, who
was afterwards the Cardinal Bibbiena, said to him: "_You must be mad! Do
you think Lorenzo would rather appear to you or to his own son? Would he
not rather appear to him than to any one else?_" They ridiculed him and
let him go. He went home and bemoaned himself to Michael Angelo, and he
spoke so effectually of the vision, holding that the thing was true, that
two days afterwards with two companions they left Florence together for
Bologna, and from there went to Venice, fearful lest that which Cardiere
prophesied should come to pass, and Florence not be safe for them!
XV. In a few days lack of funds (his companions having spent all his
money) made Michael Angelo think of returning to Florence; but coming to
Bologna a curious chance hindered them. Now there was a law in that land
in the time of Messer Giovanni Bentivogli that every stranger who entered
into Bologna should be obliged to have a great seal of red wax impressed
upon his nail. Michael Angelo inadvertently entered without being sealed,
so he was conducted, together with his companions, to the office of the
Bullette, and condemned to pay a fine of fifty Bolognese lire: not having
the wherewithal he was obliged to remain at the office. A certain
Bolognese gentleman, Messer Gian Francesco Aldovrandi, who was then of the
Sixteen, seeing him there, and hearing the reason, liberated him, chiefly
because he was a sculptor. Aldovrandi invited the sculptor to his house.
Michael Angelo thanked him, but excused himself because he had two
companions with him who would not leave him, and he would not burden the
gentleman with their company. To this the gentleman replied: "_I, too,
will come and wander over the world with you, if you will pay my
expenses._" With these and other words he prevailed over Michael Angelo,
who excused himself to his companions and took leave of them, gave them
what little money he had, and went to lodge with the gentleman.
XVI. By this time the House of the Medici, with all their followers,
having been hunted out of Florence, came to Bologna and were lodged in the
House of the Rossi. Thus the vision of Cardiere, whether a delusion of the
devil, a divine warning, or a strong imagination that had taken hold of
him, was verified; a thing so truly remarkable that it is worthy of being
recorded. I have narrated it just as I heard it from Michael Angelo
himself. It was about three years after the death of the Magnificent
Lorenzo that his children were exiled from Florence, so that Michael
Angelo was between twenty and twenty-one years of age when he escaped the
first popular tumults by remaining with the aforesaid gentleman of Bologna
until the city of Florence settled down again. This gentleman honoured him
highly, delighting in his genius, and every evening he made him read
something from Dante or from Petrarca, or now and then from Boccaccio,
until he fell asleep.
XVII. One day walking together in Bologna they went to see the ark of San
Domenico, in the Church dedicated to that Saint; two marble figures were
still lacking, a San Petronio and a kneeling angel supporting a
candlestick in his arms. The gentleman asked Michael Angelo if he had the
heart to undertake them, and he replying "yes," had it arranged that he
should have them to do; he was paid thirty ducats for it, eighteen for the
San Petronio, and twelve for the angel. The figures were three palms high;
they may still be seen in that same place. But afterwards Michael Angelo
mistrusted a Bolognese sculptor, who complained that he had taken away the
commission for the before-mentioned statues from him, as it had first been
promised to him, and as he threatened to do him an injury Michael Angelo
went back to Florence to accommodate matters,(21) as affairs had now
become quiet and he could live safely in his house. He remained with
Messer Gian Francesco Aldovrandi a little over a year.
CHAPTER II
THE BACCHUS AND THE MADONNA DELLA PIETA OF SAINT PETER'S
XVIII. Having returned to his native town Michael Angelo set to work to
carve out of marble a god of Love, between six and seven years of age,
lying asleep; this figure was seen by Lorenzo di Pier Francesco de' Medici
(for whom in the meantime Michael Angelo had carved a little Saint John),
and he judged that it was most beautiful and said of it: "_If you can
manage to make it look as if it had been buried under the earth I will
forward it to Rome, it will be taken for an antique and you will sell it
much better._" Michael Angelo hearing this immediately prepared it as one
from whom no craft was hidden, so that it looked as if it had been made
many years ago. In this state it was sent to Rome; the Cardinal di San
Giorgio bought it as an antique for two hundred ducats; though the man who
took all that money only paid thirty ducats to Michael Angelo as what he
had received for the Cupid. So much of a rogue was he that he deceived at
the same time both Lorenzo di Pier Francesco and Michael Angelo.(22) But
meanwhile it came to the ear of the Cardinal how the putto was made in
Florence. Angry at being made a fool of, he sent one of his gentlemen
there, who pretended to be looking for a sculptor to do some work in Rome.
After visiting many others he came to the house of Michael Angelo; with a
wary eye for what he wanted he observed the young man and inquired of him
if he could let him see any work; but Michael Angelo not having any to
show, took a pen (for in those days the pencil was not in general use) and
drew a hand with so much ease that the gentleman was astonished.
Afterwards he inquired if he had never done any works of sculpture. Yes,
replied Michael Angelo, and amongst the rest a Cupid, in such and such a
pose and action. The gentleman understood then that he had found the man
he sought, and narrated how the affair had gone, and promised him that if
he would come with him to Rome he would make the dealer disgorge, and
arrange matters with his lord which he knew would be much to his
satisfaction. Michael Angelo then, partly to see Rome, so much be praised
by the gentleman as the widest field for a man to show his genius in, went
with him and lodged in his house near the palace of the Cardinal, who,
advised by letter in the meantime how the matter stood, laid hands on the
merchant who had sold the Cupid to him as an antique, returned the statue
to him, and got his money back; it afterwards came, I know not how, into
the hands of the Duke Valentino, and was presented to the Marchesana of
Mantua. She sent it to Mantua, where it is still to be found in the house
of the lords of that city.(23) The Cardinal di San Giorgio was blamed in
this affair by many, for the work was seen by all the craftsmen of Rome,
and all, equally, considered it most beautiful; they thought that he ought
not to have deprived himself of it for the sake of two hundred scudi,
although it was modern, as he was a very rich man. But he, smarting under
the deceit, being able to punish the man, made him disburse the remainder
of the payment. But nobody suffered more than Michael Angelo, who never
received anything more for it than the money paid him in Florence.
Cardinal di San Giorgio understood little and was no judge of sculpture,
as is shown clearly enough by the fact that all the time Michael Angelo
remained with him, which was about a year, he did not give him a single
commission.(24)
XIX. All the same, others were not wanting who understood such things and
who made use of Michael Angelo. For Messer Iacopo Galli, a Roman gentleman
of good understanding, made him carve a marble Bacchus, ten palms in
height, in his house; this work in form and bearing in every part
corresponds to the description of the ancient writers--his aspect, merry;
the eyes, squinting and lascivious, like those of people excessively given
to the love of wine. He holds a cup in his right hand, like one about to
drink, and looks at it lovingly, taking pleasure in the liquor of which he
was the inventor; for this reason he is crowned with a garland of vine
leaves. On his left arm he has a tiger's skin, the animal dedicated to
him, as one that lives on grapes; and the skin was represented rather than
the animal, as Michael Angelo desired to signify that he who allows his
senses to be overcome by the appetite for that fruit, and the liquor
pressed from it, ultimately loses his life. In his left hand he holds a
bunch of grapes, which a merry and alert little satyr at his feet
furtively enjoys. He appears to be about seven years old, and the Bacchus
eighteen.(25) The said Messer Iacopo desired also that he would carve him
a little Cupid.(26) Both of these works may still be seen in the house of
Messer Giuliano and Messer Paolo Galli, courteous and worthy gentlemen,
with whom Michael Angelo has always retained a real and cordial
friendship.
XX. A little afterwards, at the request of the Cardinal de San Dionigi
(called the Cardinal Rovano), he carved from a block of marble that
marvellous statue of our Lady, which is now in the church of the Madonna
della Febbre;(27) although at first it was placed in the chapel of the
King of France in the Church of Santa Petronilla, near to the Sacristy of
Saint Peter's, formerly, according to some, a temple of Mars; this church
was destroyed by Bramante for the sake of his design for the new Saint
Peter's. The Madonna is seated on the stone upon which the Cross was
erected, with her dead son on her lap. He is of so great and so rare a
beauty, that no one beholds it but is moved to pity. A figure truly worthy
of the Humanity which belonged to the Son of God, and to such a Mother;
nevertheless, some there be who complain that the Mother is too young
compared to the Son. One day as I was talking to Michael Angelo of this
objection, "_Do you not know_," he said, "_that chaste women retain their
fresh looks much longer than those who are not chaste? How much more,
therefore, a virgin in whom not even the least unchaste desire ever arose?
And I tell you, moreover, that such freshness and flower of youth besides
being maintained in her by natural causes, it may possibly be that it was
ordained by the Divine Power to prove to the world the virginity and
perpetual purity of the Mother. It was not necessary in the Son; but
rather the contrary; wishing to show that the Son of God took upon himself
a true human body subject to all the ills of man, excepting only sin; he
did not allow the divine in him to hold back the human, but let it run its
course and obey its laws, as was proved in His appointed time. Do not
wonder then that I have, for all these reasons, made the most Holy Virgin,
Mother of God, a great deal younger in comparison with her Son than she is
usually represented. To the Son I have allotted His full age_."
Considerations worthy of any theologian, wonderful perhaps in any one
else, but not in Michael Angelo, whom God and Nature have formed not only
for his unique craftsmanship, but also capable of any, the most divine,
conceptions, as may be seen not only in this but in very many of his
arguments and writings. He may have been twenty-four or twenty-five years
old when he finished this work. He gained great fame and reputation by it,
so that already, in the opinion of the world, not only did he greatly
surpass all others of the time and of the times before, but also he
challenged the ancients themselves.
CHAPTER III
THE DAVID AND THE CARTOON OF PISA
XXI. These works being finished, he had to return to Florence for family
affairs; he stayed there long enough to carve the statue called by all men
the Giant, which is placed to this day by the door of the Palazzo della
Signoria at the end of the balustrade.(28) The thing happened in this
wise. The Operai(29) of Santa Maria del Fiore possessed a piece of marble
nine braccia high, which had been brought from Carrara by an artist(30)
who was not so wise as he ought to have been, as it appeared. Because to
transport the marble with greater convenience and less labour, he had
roughed it out on the quay itself in such a clumsy way, however, that
neither he nor any one else had the courage to put their hands to the
block to carve a statue out of it, either of the full size of the marble
or even one very much less. As they were not able to get anything out of
this piece of marble likely to be any good, it seemed to Andrea del Monte
a San Savino, that he might obtain the block, and he asked them to make
him a present of it, promising that by joining certain pieces on to it he
would carve a figure from it; but the Operai, before disposing of it, sent
for Michael Angelo, and told him the wish and offer of Andrea, and, having
heard his opinion that he could get something good out of it, in the end
they offered it to him. Michael Angelo accepted it, and extracted the
above-mentioned statue without adding any other piece at all, so exactly
to size that the old surface of the outsides of the marble may be seen on
the top of the head and in the base. He has left the same roughnesses in
other of his works, as that statue for the tomb of Pope Julius II., which
represents Contemplative Life. This is the custom of great masters, lords
of their art. But in the Giant it is more wonderful than ever, because,
besides not adding any pieces, he amended the faults of the roughing out,
an impossible or, at least, a most difficult thing to do (as Michael
Angelo himself has said). He received four hundred ducats for this work,
and finished it in eighteen months.
XXII. In order that no copy of the Giant should exist which was not his
own handiwork, he had it cast in bronze, of the size of the original, for
his good friend Pier Soderini, who sent it to France; and similarly he
cast a David with Goliath under him. The one to be seen in the middle of
the court-yard of the Palazzo de'Signori is by Donatello, a man excellent
in his art, and much praised by Michael Angelo, except for one thing--he
had not the patience to properly polish his works; so that in the distance
they look admirable, but close to they lose their quality. Michael Angelo
also cast a bronze group of the Madonna with her Son in her lap, which was
sent into Flanders(31) by certain Flemish merchants, the Moscheroni, great
people at home; they paid him one hundred ducats for it. And, in order not
altogether to give up painting, he executed a round panel of Our Lady(32)
for Messer Agnolo Doni, a Florentine citizen, for which he received
seventy ducats.
XXIII. It was some time since he had worked at that art, having given
himself up to the study of poets and authors in the vulgar tongue and
writing sonnets for his own pleasure. After the death of Pope Alexander
VI. he was called to Rome by Pope Julius II., and received a hundred
ducats in Florence as his _viaticum_. At this time Michael Angelo was
about twenty-nine years old; for if we count from his birth in 1474,
already stated, to the death of the above Alexander, which was in 1503, we
shall find the number of years as given.
CHAPTER IV
THE FIRST ACT OF THE TRAGEDY OF THE TOMB
XXIV. Coming then to Rome, many months(33) passed before Julius II.
resolved in what way to employ him. Ultimately it came into his head to
get him to make his monument. When he saw Michael Angelo's design it
pleased him so much that he at once sent him to Carrara to quarry the
necessary marbles, instructing Alamanno Salviati, of Florence, to pay him
a thousand ducats for this purpose. Michael Angelo stayed in these
mountains more than eight months with two workmen and his horse, and
without any other salary except his food. One day whilst he was there he
saw a crag that overlooked the sea, which made him wish to carve a
colossus that would be a landmark for sailors from a long way off, incited
thereto principally by the suitable shape of the rock from which it could
have been conveniently carved, and by emulation of the ancients, who,
perhaps with the same object as Michael Angelo not to be idle, or for some
other end, left several records unfinished and sketched out, which give a
good idea of their powers. And of a surety he would have done it if he had
had time enough, or the business upon which he had come had allowed him.
He afterwards much regretted not having carried it out. Enough marbles
quarried and chosen, he took them to the sea coast and left one of his men
to have them embarked. He himself returned to Rome, and because he stopped
some days in Florence on the way, when he arrived at Rome he found the
first boat already at the Ripa(34) unloading. He had the blocks carried to
the piazza of St. Peter's, behind Santa Caterina, where he had his
workshop near the Corridore.(35) The quantity of marble was immense, so
that, spread over the piazza, they were the admiration of all and a joy to
the Pope, who heaped immeasurable favours upon Michael Angelo; and when he
began to work upon them again and again went to see him at his house, and
talked with him of monuments and other matters as with his own brother;
and in order that he might more easily go to him, the Pope ordered that a
drawbridge should be thrown across from the Corridore to the rooms of
Michael Angelo, by which he might visit him in private.
XXV. These many and frequent favours were the cause (as often is the case
at Court) of much envy, and, after the envy, of endless persecution, since
Bramante, the architect, who was much loved by the Pope, made him change
his mind as to the monument by telling him, as is said by the vulgar, that
it is unlucky to build one's tomb in one's lifetime. Fear as well as envy
stimulated Bramante, for the judgment of Michael Angelo had exposed many
of his errors. Bramante, as every one knows, was given to all kinds of
pleasures and a great spendthrift. The pension allotted to him by the
Pope, however rich it might be, was not enough for him; he tried to make
money out of the works, building the walls of bad materials, which,
notwithstanding their greatness and width, are not very firm or solid. As
is manifest to every one in the works of Saint Peter's, the Corridore di
Belvedere, the Convents di San Pietro ad Vincula, and other fabrics built
by him, it has been necessary to put new foundations and to strengthen all
of them by props and buttresses, like buildings about to fall. Now because
he had no doubt that Michael Angelo knew these errors of his, he always
sought to remove him from Rome, or, at least, to deprive him of the favour
of the Pope, and of the glory and usefulness that he might have acquired
by his industry. He succeeded in the matter of the tomb. There is no doubt
that if he had been allowed to finish it, according to his first
design,(36) having so large a field in which to show his worth, no other
artist, however celebrated (be it said without envy), could have wrested
from him the high place he would have held. Those parts which he did
finish show what the rest would have been like. The two slaves were done
for this work: those who have seen them declare that no such worthy
statues were ever carved.
XXVI. And to give some idea of it, I say briefly that this tomb was to
have had four faces, two of eighteen braccia, that served for the flanks,
so that it was to be a square and a half in plan. All round about the
outside were niches for statues, and between niche and niche terminal
figures; to these were bound other statues, like prisoners, upon certain
square plinths, rising from the ground and projecting from the monument.
They represented the liberal arts, as Painting, Sculpture, and
Architecture, each with her symbol so that they could easily be
recognised; denoting by this that, like Pope Julius, all the virtues were
the prisoners of Death, because they would never find such favour and
nourishment as he gave them. Above these ran the cornice that tied all the
work together. On its plane were four great statues; one of these, the
Moses, may be seen in San Piero and Vincula. It shall be spoken of in its
proper place. So the work mounted upward until it ended in a plane. Upon
it were two angels who supported an arc; one appeared to be smiling as
though he rejoiced that the soul of the Pope had been received amongst the
blessed spirits, the other wept, as if sad that the world had been
deprived of such a man. Above one end was the entrance to the sepulchre in
a small chamber, built like a temple; in the middle was a marble
sarcophagus, where the body of the Pope was to be buried; everything
worked out with marvellous art. Briefly, more than forty statues went to
the whole work, not counting the subjects in mezzo rilievo to be cast in
bronze, all appropriate in their stories and proclaiming the acts of this
great Pontiff.
XXVII. Having seen this design the Pope sent Michael Angelo to Saint
Peter's to decide where it might most conveniently be erected. The church
was in the form of a cross. At the head Pope Nicolas V. had begun to
rebuild the tribune; the walls were already three braccia above the ground
when he died. It seemed to Michael Angelo that this place was very
suitable. When he returned to the Pope he told him what he thought, and
added, that if it seemed good to his Holiness, it would be necessary to go
on with the building and roof it in. The Pope asked him, "_What would be
the cost of this?_" Michael Angelo replied, "_One hundred thousand
scudi._" "_Let it be two hundred thousand_," said Julius. And sending San
Gallo, the architect, and Bramante to see the place, by their suggestion
it came into the mind of the Pope to rebuild the church altogether. He
directed them to prepare designs, and that of Bramante was approved, as
being more graceful and better understood than the others. Thus, Michael
Angelo was the cause, both that those parts of the building already begun
were completed, which otherwise might have remained as they were to this
day, and that it came into the mind of the Pope to rebuild the rest of the
church on a more magnificent scale.
XXVIII. Returning to our story, Michael Angelo became acquainted with the
change in the wishes of Julius in the following manner: The Pope
instructed Michael Angelo that if he needed money he was to come direct to
him and not to others, so that he might not have to go from one to another
for it. It happened one day that the rest of the marbles that had been
left at Carrara arrived at the Ripa; Michael Angelo had them disembarked
and carried to Saint Peter's, and desiring at once to pay the freight, the
landing, and the porterage, he went to ask the Pope for money, but found
access to the palace more difficult than usual, and his Holiness occupied.
So he returned home, and not to incommode the poor men who had earned
their wages he paid them all out of his own pocket, thinking that his
money would be returned by the Pope at a more convenient season. One
morning he returned and entered the ante-chamber for an audience. A groom
came up to him and said: "_Pardon me, I have been ordered not to admit
you_." A bishop was present, and hearing the words of the man, cried out:
"_You cannot know who this man is?_" "_I know him very well_," replied the
groom, "_but I am obliged to do what I am bid by my masters without
further question_." Michael Angelo, who had never before been kept waiting
or had the door barred against him, seeing himself so turned off and
scorned, was angered and replied: "_You may tell the Pope that,
henceforward, if he wants me he must look for me elsewhere_." So he
returned to his house and instructed his two servants to sell all his
furniture, and when they got the money to follow him to Florence. He
himself took horse and at the second hour of the night reached Poggibonsi,
a castle in the Florentine territory, eighteen or twenty miles from the
city, where, as in a safe place, he rested.
XXIX. A little later five messengers from Pope Julius arrived with orders
to bring Michael Angelo back wherever they might find him. But overtaking
him in a place where they were unable to offer him any violence, Michael
Angelo threatening them with death if they dare lay hands on him, they
turned to entreaties; then not succeeding, they obtained from him the
concession that at least he would reply to the letter from the Pope which
they had given to him, and that he should particularly write that they had
only overtaken him in Florence that the Pope might understand that they
were unable to bring him back against his will. The letter of the Pope was
of this tenour: "At sight of this return immediately to Rome, under pain
of my displeasure." Michael Angelo replied briefly: "That he was never
going to return, and that his good and faithful service had not deserved
this change, to be hunted away from his presence like a rogue; and as his
Holiness did not wish to have anything more to do with the tomb, he was
free and did not wish to bind himself again." So dating the letter as has
been said he let the messengers go, he himself went on to Florence, where,
during the three months he remained there, three Briefs were sent to the
Signoria, full of menaces, demanding that he should be sent back either by
fair means or force.
XXX. Pier Soderini, who was then Gonfaloniere of the Republic for life,
having formerly let him go to Rome much against his will, wished him to
work for him by painting in the Sala del Consiglio. On receipt of the
first Brief he did not oblige Michael Angelo to return, hoping that the
anger of the Pope would abate; but when a second and a third arrived, he
called Michael Angelo to him and said: "_You have braved the Pope as the
King of France would not have done, therefore prayer is unavailing. We do
not wish to go to war with him on your __account and risk the State, so
prepare yourself to return_."(37) Michael Angelo, seeing it had come to
this, and fearing the wrath of the Pope, thought of going to the Levant,
principally because he had been sought after by the Turk with rich
promises, through the agency of certain Franciscan Friars, to throw a
bridge from Constantinople to Pera, and for other works. But the
Gonfaloniere, hearing of this, sent for him and dissuaded him, saying:
"_That it was better to die with the Pope than to live with the Turk;
nevertheless, there was nothing to fear, for the Pope was kind, and sent
for him because he loved him well, not because he wished him harm; and if
he was still afraid, the Signoria would send him as ambassador, because
violence was not offered to public persons without it being offered to
those who sent them._" By reason of these and other arguments Michael
Angelo prepared to return.
XXXI. Whilst he was still in Florence two things happened. One was that he
finished the marvellous cartoon he had begun for the Sala del Consiglio,
which represented the war between Florence and Pisa, and the many and
various events that occurred in it, which cartoon of consummate art was a
light to all those who afterwards took pencil in hand. I cannot tell what
evil fortune happened to it afterwards, it was left by Michael Angelo in
the Sala del Papa (a place so called in Florence) at Santa Maria Novella.
Fragments of it can be seen in the various places, preserved with greatest
care like something sacred.(38) The other thing was, that Pope Julius had
taken Bologna and had gone there; he was delighted with the acquisition,
and this gave courage to Michael Angelo to appear before him more
hopefully.
CHAPTER V
THE COLOSSAL BRONZE FOR THE FACADE OF SAN PETRONIO
XXXII. So he arrived at Bologna one morning, and going to San Petronio to
hear mass,(39) behold, the grooms of the Pope, who recognised him and
conducted him to his Holiness, who was at table in the Palazzo de' Sedici.
When he saw Michael Angelo in his presence, Julius, with an angry look,
said to him, "_You ought to have come to us, and you have waited for us to
come to you_." Meaning to say, that his Holiness being come to Bologna, a
place much nearer to Florence than Rome is, it was as if he (the Pope) had
come to him. Michael Angelo with a loud voice and on his knees craved
pardon, pleading that he had not erred maliciously but through
indignation, for he could not bear to be hunted away as he had been. The
Pope kept his head lowered and replied nothing, to all appearances much
troubled, when a certain monsignore, sent by the Cardinal Soderini to
excuse and intercede for Michael Angelo, broke in, saying: "_Your
Holiness, do not remember his fault, for he has erred through ignorance;
these painters in things outside their art are all like this._" The Pope
indignantly replied: "_You __abuse him, whilst we say nothing; you are the
ignorant one, and he is not the culprit; take yourself off in an evil
hour._" But as he was not going, he was, as Michael Angelo used to tell,
hustled out of the room with blows by the servants of the Pope. Thus the
Pope having spent his fury on the bishop, called Michael Angelo closer to
him, and pardoned him, ordering him not to leave Bologna until another
commission had been given to him. Nor was he long before he sent for him
and said that he wished Michael Angelo to make a great portrait statue of
him in bronze, which he wished to place on the front of the Church of San
Petronio. And he left a thousand ducats in the bank of Messer Antommaria
da Lignano to carry out the work when he departed for Rome. It is true
that before he left Michael Angelo had already modelled it in clay, but he
was doubtful as to what the statue should hold in the left hand, the right
was raised as if giving a benediction. He asked the Pope, who had come to
see the statue, if it pleased him that he should be made holding a book.
"_What! a book?_" he replied, "_a sword! As for me, I am no scholar._" And
jesting about the right hand, which was in vigorous action, he said,
smiling the while, to Michael Angelo, "_Does this statue of yours give a
blessing or a curse?_" Michael Angelo replied to him: "_It threatens this
people, Holy Father, lest they be foolish._" But, as I have said, Pope
Julius returned to Rome and Michael Angelo remained behind at Bologna, and
spent sixteen months in completing the statue and erecting it where the
Pope had directed. Afterwards, on the return of the Bentivogli to Bologna,
this statue was thrown to earth in the fury of the populace and destroyed.
Its height was more than three times that of life.
CHAPTER VI
THE VAULT OF THE SISTINE CHAPEL
XXXIII. After he had finished this work he went to Rome, where Pope Julius
wished to employ him, keeping still to his purpose of not going on with
his tomb. It was put into his head by Bramante and other rivals of Michael
Angelo that he should make him paint the vault of the chapel of Sixtus the
Fourth, in the Vatican, making him believe that he would do wonders. This
was done maliciously, to distract the Pope from works of sculpture; and
because they thought it was certain, either, that by his not accepting
such a commission, he would stir up the Pope's anger against himself, or
that by accepting it he would come out of it very much inferior to
Raffaello da Urbino, whom they heaped with favours on account of their
hatred for Michael Angelo, judging that his principal art was sculpture,
as in truth it was. Michael Angelo, who as yet had never used colours and
knew the painting of the vault to be a very difficult undertaking, tried
with all his power to get out of it, proposing Raffaello and excusing
himself, in that it was not his art and that he would not succeed,
refusing so many demands that the Pope was almost in a passion. But seeing
his obstinacy, Michael Angelo set himself to do the work, which to-day is
seen in the palace of the Pope, and is the admiration and wonder of the
world; it brought him so much fame that it lifted him above all envy. I
will give some brief account of this work.
XXXIV. The shape of this ceiling is what is commonly called a barrel
vaulting, resting on lunettes, six to the length and two to the width of
the building, so that the whole formed two squares and a half. In this
space Michael Angelo has depicted, firstly, the creation of the world, and
then almost the whole of the Old Testament. He has divided the work after
this fashion: Beginning at the brackets, where the horns of the lunettes
rest, up to almost a third of the arch of the vault, the walls appear to
continue flat, running up to that height with certain pilasters and
plinths imitating marble, which project into the open like a balustrade
over an additional storey, with corbels below, and with other little
pilasters above the same storey, where sit the prophets and sybils. The
first pilasters grow from the arches of the lunettes, placing the
pedestals in the middle, leaving, however, the greater part of the arch of
the lunette--that is to say, the space they contain between them. Above the
said plinths are painted some little naked children in various poses, who,
in guise of terminals, support a cornice, which binds the whole work
together, leaving in the middle of the vault from end to end, as it were,
the open sky. This opening is divided into nine spaces; for from the
cornices over the pilasters spring certain arches with cornices, which
traverse the highest part of the vault, and join the cornice on the
opposite side of the chapel, leaving from arch to arch nine openings,
large and small. In the smaller spaces are two fillets, painted like
marble that cross the opening in such a way that in the middle rest the
two parts and one of the bands, where medallions are placed, as shall be
told in due course; and this has been done to avoid monotony, which is
born of sameness. Now, at the head of the chapel, in the first opening,
which is one of the smaller ones, is seen how the Omnipotent God in the
heavens by the movement of His arms divides light from darkness. In the
second space is how He created the two great lights. The Creator is seen
with arms extended: with the right He lights the sun, and with the left
the moon. With Him are child-angels; one on the left hides his face
against the bosom of his Creator, as though shielding himself from the
harmful light of the moon. In the same space on the left God is seen
turning to create the trees and plants of the earth, painted with such art
that wherever you turn He appears to turn away also, showing the whole of
the back down to the soles of His feet--a thing most beautiful, and which
shows what may be done by foreshortening. In the third space the great God
appears in the heavens, again with a company of angels, looking upon the
waters and commanding them to bring forth all those forms of life
nourished in that element, just as in the second He commands the earth. In
the fourth is the creation of Man. God is seen with arm and hand stretched
forth as if giving His commandments to Adam, what to do and what not to
do; with His other arm He draws His angels about Him. In the fifth is how
He drew woman from the side of Adam. She comes forth with her hands
joined, raising them in prayer towards God, bending with gracious mien and
offering thanks as He blesses her. In the sixth is how the Devil tempted
man. From the middle upwards the wicked one is of human form, and the rest
of him like unto a serpent, his legs transformed into tails winding around
a tree. He seems to reason with the man and persuade him to act contrary
to the commands of his Creator, and he offers the forbidden apple to the
woman. On the other side of the space the two are seen driven forth by the
angel, terrified and weeping, flying from the face of God. In the seventh
is the sacrifice of Abel and of Cain;(40) the one grateful to and accepted
by God, the other hateful and refused. In the eighth is the Deluge, when
the ark of Noah is seen in the distance in the midst of the waters; some
men attempt to cling to it for safety. Nearer, in the same abyss of
waters, is a boat laden with many people, which, both by the excessive
weight she has to carry and by the many and tumultuous lashings of the
waves, loses her sail, and, deprived of every aid and human control, she
is already filling with water and going to the bottom. It is an admirable
thing to see the human race so wretchedly perishing in the waves.
Likewise, nearer to the eye, there still appears above the waters the
summit of a mountain, like unto an island, on which, fleeing from the
rising waters, collect a multitude of men and women, who exhibit different
expressions, but all wretched and all terrified, dragging themselves
beneath a curtain stretched over a tree to shelter them from the unusual
rains; and above them is represented with great art the anger of God,
which overwhelms them with water, with lightnings, and with thunderbolts.
There is also another mountain-top on the right,(41) much nearer the eye,
and a multitude labouring under the same disasters, of which it would be
long to write all the details; it shall suffice me to say that they are
all very natural and tremendous, just as one would imagine them in such a
convulsion. In the ninth, which is the last, is the story of Noah when he
was drunken with wine, lying on the ground, his shame derided by his son
Ham and covered by Shem and Japhet. Under the before-mentioned cornice
which finishes the walls, and above the brackets where the lunettes rest,
between pilaster and pilaster, sit twelve large figures--prophets and
sybils--all truly wonderful, as much for their grace as for the decoration
and design of their draperies. But admirable above all the others is the
prophet Jonah, placed at the head of the vault, because contrary to the
form of this part of the ceiling, by force of light and shade, the torso,
which is foreshortened so that it goes back away into the roof, is on the
part of the arch nearest the eye, and the feet and legs which, as it were,
project within the walls, are on the part more distant. A stupendous
performance, which shows what marvellous power was in this man of turning
lines in foreshortening and perspective. Now in the spaces that are below
the lunettes, as well as in those above, which have a triangular shape,
are painted all the genealogy, or, I should say, all the ancestors of the
Saviour, except the triangles at the corners, which come together, and so,
two make up one of double the area. In one then of these, above the wall
of the Last Judgment on the right hand,(42) is seen how Aman, by command
of King Ahasuerus, was hung upon a cross; and this was because, in his
pride and arrogance, he wished to hang Mordecai, the uncle Queen Ester,
for not honouring him with a reverence as he passed by. In another corner
is the story of the bronze serpent, lifted by Moses on a staff, in which
the children of Israel, wounded and ill-treated by lively little serpents,
are healed by looking up. Here Michael Angelo has shown admirable force in
those figures that are struggling to free themselves from the coils of the
serpents. In the third corner, at the lower end of the chapel, is the
vengeance wreaked upon Holofernes by Judith, and in the fourth that of
David over Goliath. And these are briefly all the histories.
XXXV. But no less marvellous is that part which does not relate to the
histories at all, that is to say, certain nudes who sit upon plinths above
the before-mentioned cornice, one on either side holding up the
medallions, which, as has been said, appear to be of metal, on which, in
the style of reverses, are designed several stories, all however
appropriate to their principal histories. By the beauty of the divisions,
by the variety of the poses, and by the balance of the proportionate
parts, in all of them Michael Angelo exhibited the highest art. But to
tell the particulars of these things would be an infinite labour, a book
to them alone would not be enough; therefore I pass over them briefly,
wishing rather to give a little light upon the whole than to detail the
parts.
XXXVI. In the meanwhile he did not lack troubles; for, having finished the
picture of the Deluge, the work began to grow mouldy,(43) so much so that
the figures could hardly be distinguished. Michael Angelo, thinking that
this excuse would suffice to enable him to shake off his burden, went to
the Pope and said to him: "_I have already told your Holiness that this is
not my art; all that I have done is spoiled; if you do not believe it send
and see._" The Pope sent Il San Gallo, who, when he examined the fresco,
saw that the plaster had been applied too wet, and the dampness running
down caused this effect; and informing Michael Angelo of this he made him
proceed, and the excuse was unavailing.
XXXVII. Whilst he was painting Pope Julius went to see the work many
times, ascending the scaffolding by a ladder, Michael Angelo giving him
his hand to assist him on to the highest platform. And, like one who was
of a vehement nature, and impatient of delay, when but one half of the
work was done, the part from the door to the middle of the vault,(44) he
insisted upon having it uncovered, although it was still incomplete and
had not received the finishing touches. Michael Angelo's fame, and the
expectation they had of him, drew the whole of Rome to the chapel, where
the Pope also rushed, even before the dust raised by the taking down the
scaffolding had settled.
XXXVIII. After this, Raphael, having seen this new and marvellous manner
as one who excelled in imitating, tried by the aid of Bramante to get the
rest of the chapel to paint. Michael Angelo was much troubled, came before
the Pope, and bitterly complained of the injury Bramante was doing him;
and in his presence grieved over it with the Pope, discovering to him all
the persecution he had suffered from him, and afterwards unfolded to him
many of Bramante's shortcomings, principally that in pulling down the old
church of Saint Peter's he threw to earth those marvellous columns that
were therein, not respecting them or caring whether they were broken to
pieces or not, when he might have lowered them gently and preserved them
whole; explaining how it was an easy thing to pile brick on brick, but to
make such a column was most difficult, and many other things that it was
most necessary to relate; so that the Pope, hearing of all these sad
doings, willed that Michael Angelo should continue the work, showing him
more favour than ever. He finished all this work in twenty months(45)
without assistance,(46) not even any one to grind the colours. It is true
that I have heard him say that the work is not finished as he would have
wished, as he was prevented by the hurry of the Pope, who demanded of him
one day when he would finish the chapel. Michael Angelo said: "_When I
can_." The Pope, angered, added: "_Do you want me to have you thrown down
off this scaffolding?_" Michael Angelo, hearing this, said to himself:
"_Nay, you shall not have me thrown down_," and as soon as the Pope had
gone away he had the scaffolding taken down and uncovered his work upon
All Saints Day. It was seen with great satisfaction by the Pope (who that
very day visited the chapel), and all Rome crowded to admire it. It lacked
the retouches "a secco" of ultramarine and of gold in certain places,
which would have made it appear more rich. Julius, his fervour having
abated, wished that Michael Angelo should supply them; but he considering
the business it would be to reerect the scaffolding, replied that there
was nothing important wanting. "_It should be touched with gold_," replied
the Pope. Michael Angelo said to him familiarly, as he had a way of doing
with his Holiness: "_I do not see that men wear gold._" The Pope again
said: "_It will seem poor_." "_Those who are painted here were poor
also_," Michael Angelo replied. This he threw out in jest; but so the
vault has remained. Michael Angelo received for this work and all his
expenses three thousand ducats, of which I have heard him say he spent in
colours about twenty or twenty-five.
CHAPTER VII
THE RISEN CHRIST OF THE MINERVA
XXXIX. When he had finished this work Michael Angelo, because he had
painted so long a time with his eyes turned upwards towards the vault,
could hardly see anything when looking down, so that when he had to read a
letter or look at a minute object it was necessary for him to hold it
above his head. Nevertheless, little by little, he became able to again
read looking down. By this we are able to judge with how much attention
and assiduity he had carried out his work. Many other things happened to
him during the life of Pope Julius, who loved him from his heart, having a
more jealous care for him than for any one else he had about him, as one
may see clearly by what we have already written. Indeed, one day fearing
that Michael Angelo was angry, he immediately sent to pacify him. It
happened in this wise. Michael Angelo wanting to go to Florence for Saint
John's Day asked the Pope for money; and he demanded when his chapel would
be finished. Michael Angelo, as his custom was, replied, "_When I can_."
The Pope, who was of a hasty nature, struck him with a stick that he had
in his hand, saying: "_When I can, indeed; when I can!_" After he got home
Michael Angelo was preparing, without more ado, to go to Florence, when
Accursio arrived, a highly favoured young man, sent by the Pope, and
brought him five hundred ducats and pacified him as best he could, making
the Pope's excuses. Michael Angelo accepted the apology and went away to
Florence. So that it seems as if Julius cared more than for anything else
to keep this man for himself; nor was he contented with his services
during his life only, but required them after his death; wherefore coming
to die he commanded that the Tomb which Michael Angelo had formerly begun
should be finished for him, giving this charge to the old Cardinal Santi
Quattro and the Cardinal Aginense, his nephew: they, however, had new
designs prepared, the first appearing to them too large. So Michael Angelo
again became involved in the Tragedy of the Tomb, which had no better
success than at first; on the contrary much worse, it brought him infinite
vexations, troubles, and labours; and, what is worse, by the malice of
certain men, shame, from which he was hardly able to clear himself for
many years. Michael Angelo then began all over again and set to work. He
brought many masters from Florence, and Bernardo Bini, who was trustee,
provided the money as he needed it. But it had not got on very far when he
was interrupted, much to his disgust, for it came into the head of the
Pope Leo, who had succeeded Julius, to ornament the facade of San Lorenzo,
in Florence, with sculpture and marble work. This was the church built by
the great Cosimo de' Medici; and, except for the facade mentioned above,
was all completely finished. This part, then, Pope Leo resolved to supply.
He thought of employing Michael Angelo, and sending for him he made him
prepare a design, and finally on that account wished him to go to Florence
and take upon himself all this charge. Michael Angelo, who was working
with love and diligence at the tomb of Julius, made all the resistance
that he could, saying that he was bound to Cardinal Santi Quattro and to
Aginense, and could not fail them. But the Pope, who was determined in
this matter, replied: "_Leave me to deal with them; I will content them._"
So he sent for both of them and made them release Michael Angelo, much to
the sorrow both of himself and the Cardinals, especially of Aginense,
nephew, as has been said, of Pope Julius, for whom, however, Pope Leo
promised that Michael Angelo should work in Florence, and that he would
not hinder him. In this fashion, weeping, Michael Angelo left the tomb and
betook himself to Florence. As soon as he arrived he put everything in
order for building the facade, he himself went to Carrara to transport
marbles, not only for the facade but also for the tomb, relying upon the
promise of the Pope that he would be able to go on with it. In the
meantime the Pope was informed that in the mountains of Pietrasanta, in
the Florentine territory, there were marbles as good and beautiful as at
Carrara. When this was discussed with Michael Angelo, he, as a friend of
the Marchese Alberigo, and having come to an understanding with him about
the marbles, preferred rather to quarry at Carrara than at these new
places in the State of Florence. The Pope wrote to Michael Angelo and
commanded him to go to Pietrasanta and see if it was as he heard from
Florence. He went there and found the marble very unmanageable and
unsuitable;(47) and even if it had been suitable, it would be a difficult
and very expensive business to bring it down to the sea; for it would
require a new road to be constructed for several miles over the mountains
with pickaxes, and across the plains, which were very marshy, on piles.
Michael Angelo wrote all this to the Pope; but he rather believed those
who had written to him from Florence, and ordered him to make the road. So
to carry out the will of the Pope he constructed this road,(48) and by it
carried a vast quantity of marble to the sea coast, amongst them five
columns of the right size; one of them is to be seen on the Piazza of San
Lorenzo, brought by him to Florence;(49) the other four, because the Pope
had changed his mind and turned his thoughts elsewhere, are still lying on
the sea shore. But the Marchese di Carrara, thinking that Michael Angelo,
as a citizen of Florence, might have been the originator of the quarrying
at Pietrasanta, became his enemy; nor would he allow him to return to
Carrara afterwards even for marble that he had already quarried, which was
a great loss to Michael Angelo.
CHAPTER VIII
THE SACRISTY OF SAN LORENZO
XL. Now having returned to Florence, and finding, as was said before, that
the fervour of Pope Leo was all spent, Michael Angelo, grieving, remained
there doing nothing for a long while, having, first in one thing and then
in another, thrown away much of his time, to his great annoyance.
Nevertheless, with certain blocks of marble that he had placed in his own
house, he proceeded with the work of the Tomb. But Leo departing this
life, Adrian was created Pope, and the work was interrupted again, for
they charged Michael Angelo with having received from Julius for this work
quite sixteen thousand scudi, and that he did not trouble himself to get
on with it, but stayed at Florence for his own pleasure. All these
accusations called for his presence in Rome; but the Cardinal de' Medici,
who afterwards became Pope Clement VII., and who then had the government
of Florence in his hand, did not wish him to go; and to keep him employed,
and to have an excuse, he made him begin the Medici Library in San
Lorenzo, and at the same time the sacristy with the tombs of his
ancestors, promising to satisfy the Pope for him, and arrange matters.
Then Adrian living only a few months and Clement succeeding him in the
Papacy, nothing more was said about the Tomb of Julius for some time. But
Michael Angelo was advised that the Duke of Urbino, Francesco Maria,
nephew of Pope Julius of happy memory, complained greatly of him, and
menaced him with vengeance if he did not quickly come to Rome. Michael
Angelo conferred with Pope Clement about the affair, and he counselled him
to call the agents of the Duke and prepare an account with them of all
that he had received from Julius and all the work he had done for him,
knowing that if Michael Angelo's work were properly estimated he would
turn out to be the creditor rather than the debtor. Michael Angelo
remained in Rome about this against his will; and having arranged affairs
returned to Florence, principally because he anticipated the ruin that a
little while afterwards came upon Rome.
XLI. In the meantime the House of Medici was driven out of Florence by the
opposing faction, because they had taken more authority to themselves than
could be suffered in a free city that ruled herself by her Republic. As
the Signoria did not expect that the Pope would do anything to forego his
family's authority they expected certain war, and turned their minds to
the fortifications of their city, and appointed Michael Angelo
Commissary-General for that work. He then, accepting this preferment,
besides many other preparations carried out by him on every side of the
city, encircled with strong fortifications the hill of San Miniato, that
stands above the city and overlooks the surrounding plain. If the enemy
took this hill nothing could prevent him becoming master of the city also.
This fort was judged to be the saving of the country, and very dangerous
to the enemy; being, as I have said, of high elevation, it menaced the
hosts of their antagonists, especially from the bell-tower of the church,
where two pieces of artillery were placed, which continually did great
damage to the besiegers. Michael Angelo, notwithstanding that he had made
provision beforehand for whatever might occur, posted himself upon the
hill. After about six months the soldiers began to grumble amongst
themselves of I know not what treachery; Michael Angelo partly knowing
about this himself, and partly by the warnings of certain captains, his
friends, betook himself to the Signoria and discovered to them what he had
heard and seen, showing them in what danger the city stood, saying that
there was yet time to provide against the danger, if they would. But
instead of thanking him they abused him, and reproached him with being a
timid man and too suspicious. He who replied to him thus had better have
opened his ears to him, for the House of Medici entered into Florence and
his head was cut off; whereas, if he had listened, he might have been yet
alive.
XLII. When Michael Angelo saw how little his word was considered, and how
the ruin of the city was certain, by the authority he had he caused a gate
to be opened, and went out with two of his people, and betook himself to
Venice. And certainly this notion of a treachery was no fable; but he who
arranged it judged that it would pass over with less disgrace if it was
not discovered just then, as time would achieve the same result by his
merely failing in his duty and hindering others who wished to do theirs.
The departure of Michael Angelo was the occasion of many rumours, and he
fell into great disgrace with the governors. All the same, he was recalled
with many prayers, with appeals to his patriotism, and by those who urged
that he must not abandon the responsibilities that he had taken upon
himself, and that the matter was not at such an extremity as he had been
given to understand, and many other things. Persuaded by all this, and by
the authority of the personages who wrote to him, but chiefly by his love
for his country, after he had received a safe conduct for ten days before
the day of his arrival in Florence, he returned, not without danger to his
life.
XLIII. Again in Florence the first thing he did was to protect the
bell-tower of San Miniato, which was all broken by the continual
cannonading of the enemy, and had become very dangerous to those within.
The method of defence was in this wise: a large number of mattresses, well
filled with wool, were slung with stout cords from the top of the tower to
the bottom, covering parts likely to be hit. And as the cornice projected
considerably, the mattresses hung out from the main wall of the bell-tower
more than six hands, so that the cannon-balls of the enemy, partly on
account of the distance from which they were fired, and partly by the
opposition of these mattresses, did little or no damage, not even injuring
the mattresses themselves, because they were so yielding. Thus he held
that tower all the time of the siege, which lasted a year, without its
suffering any injury, and rejoicing greatly in the salvation of the land
and the damage he did to the enemy.
XLIV. But afterwards the enemy entered the city by treachery, and many of
the citizens were taken and killed. The court sent to the house of Michael
Angelo to seize him; all the rooms and the chests were searched by them,
even to the chimney and closet; but Michael Angelo, afraid of what might
follow, had taken refuge in the house of a great friend. Here he remained
in hiding many days, no one knowing that he was there except the friend
who saved him. When the fury was over, Pope Clement wrote to Florence that
Michael Angelo must be sought out, and ordered that, when found, he should
be set at liberty if he would go on with the work of the Medici tombs
formerly begun, and that he must be used courteously. Michael Angelo,
hearing this, came out; and, although it was some fifteen years since he
had touched the chisel, yet he set himself so earnestly to his task that
in a few months he carved all the statues now to be seen in the sacristy
of San Lorenzo, urged on more by fear than by love.(50) It is true that
none of these statues have received their last touches; nevertheless, they
are carried so far that the excellence of the workmanship can be very well
seen; nor does the lack of finish impair the perfection and the beauty of
the work.
XLV. The statues are four, placed in a sacristy erected for this purpose
on the left of the church opposite the old sacristy; and although each
figure balances the other in design and general shape, nevertheless, they
are quite different in form, idea, and action. The sarcophagi are placed
against the side walls, and above their lids recline two figures, larger
than life--that is to say, a man and a woman, signifying Day and Night; and
by the two of them Time, that consumes all things. And in order that his
idea might be better understood, he gave to the Night, who was made in the
form of a woman of a marvellous beauty, an owl and other symbols suitable
to her; similarly to the Day, his signs; and for the signification of Time
he intended to carve a rat, because this little animal gnaws and consumes,
just as Time devours, all things. He left a piece of marble on the work
for it, which he did not carve, as he was afterwards prevented. There were
besides other statues, which represented those for whom the tombs were
erected. All, in conclusion, were more divine than human; but above all,
the Madonna, with her little child straddling across her thigh, of this I
judge it better to be silent than to say but little, and so I pass it
by.(51) We owe thanks to Pope Clement for these masterpieces; and if he
had done no other praiseworthy act in his life (but, of course, he did
many), this one was enough to cancel all his faults, for through him the
world possesses these noble statues. And much more we owe him in that he
did not fail to respect the virtue of this man when Florence fell, just as
in olden times Marcellus respected the virtue of Archimedes when he
entered Syracuse, although in that case it was of no effect; in this case,
thanks be to God, it availed much.
XLVI. For all that Michael Angelo lived in great fear, because he was
greatly disliked by the Duke Alessandro, a young man, as every one knows,
very fierce and vindictive. There is no doubt that, if it had not been for
the fear of the Pope, he would have had him put away long ago; the more
so, as this Duke of Florence, when erecting those fortresses of his, sent
for Michael Angelo, by Signor Alessandro Vitelli, to ride out with him and
indicate where they would most usefully be placed, and he would not,
replying that he had received no such commission from Pope Clement. The
Duke was much angered; so that for this reason, as well as for the old
ill-will he bore him, and on account of the nature of the Duke, Michael
Angelo had good reason to fear him. And truly it was a blessing of God
that he was not in Florence at the time of the death of Clement; he was
called to Rome by the Pontiff before he had quite finished the tombs at
San Lorenzo. He was received gladly. Clement respected this man like one
sacred, and talked with him familiarly, both on grave and trivial
subjects, as he would have done with his equals. He sought to relieve him
of the burden of the Tomb of Julius, so that he might settle in Florence
permanently, not only to finish the works already begun, but that he might
execute others no less worthy.
XLVII. But before I say any more about this it behoves me to write of
another fact concerning Michael Angelo, which I have inadvertently
omitted. After the violent departure of the Medici from Florence, the
Signoria fearing, as I have said above, the coming war, and intending to
fortify their city, sent for Michael Angelo, as they knew him to be a man
of consummate ingenuity and most active in whatever he undertook;
nevertheless, by the advice of certain citizens who favoured the cause of
the Medici and wished covertly to hinder or delay the fortification of the
city, they sent him to Ferrara, under pretext that he should study the
system by which Duke Alfonso had armed and fortified his city, knowing
that his Excellency was most expert in these matters and in everything
else most prudent. The Duke received Michael Angelo gladly, not only for
the great worthiness of the man, but also because Don Ercole, his son and
now Duke in his stead, was Captain of the Signoria of Florence. The Duke
riding with him in person there was nothing that he did not show him, even
more than was needful, so many bastions, so many pieces of artillery, and,
indeed, he opened to him his cabinet also and showed him everything with
his own hands, especially certain works of painting and portraits of his
ancestors, by masters excellent in their day.(52) But when Michael Angelo
had to depart, the Duke said to him jestingly: "_Michael Angelo, you are
my prisoner. If you want me to let you go free you must promise to do some
work for me with your own hands, whatever suits you best, let it be what
you will, sculpture or painting._" Michael Angelo agreed, and returned to
Florence. Although much occupied in arming the country, yet he began a
large easel picture, representing Leda and the Swan, and near by the egg
from which Castor and Pollux were born, as is fabled by ancient writers.
When the Duke heard that the Medici had entered Florence, fearing to lose
so great a treasure in the tumult, he immediately sent one of his own
people. His man, when he came to the house of Michael Angelo and saw the
picture, said: "_Why! this is but a small matter._" Michael Angelo asked
him what his business was? Realising that every one thinks they know other
people's business best, he replied simpering, "_I am a merchant_;" perhaps
disgusted by such a question, and not being taken for a gentleman, while
at the same time despising the industry of the Florentine citizens, who
for the most part are merchants, as if he had said: "_You ask what is my
business, would you ever believe that I am a merchant?_" Michael Angelo
heard what he said, and replied: "_You have done bad business for your
lord; leave my sight._" So having dismissed the Ducal messenger, he gave
the picture shortly afterwards to one of his assistants, who had two
sisters to marry off. It was sent into France, where it still is,(53) and
was bought by King Francis.
XLVIII. Now to return, Michael Angelo having been called to Rome by Pope
Clement, thereupon began the affair with the Duke of Urbino's agents
concerning the Tomb of Julius. Clement, who wished to employ him in
Florence, tried by every means to free him, and gave him for his attorney
one Messer Tommaso, of Prato, who afterwards became Datario. But Michael
Angelo, who knew and feared the ill-will of Duke Alessandro towards him,
and at the same time loved and revered the bones of Pope Julius, and all
the illustrious House della Rovere, did all he could to remain in Rome and
work at the Tomb; the more so because he was accused by every one of
having received from Pope Julius for that purpose fully sixteen thousand
scudi, and of having enjoyed it without doing what he had undertaken. As
he held his honour dear he could not bear the disgrace, and desired that
the affair should be cleared up, not refusing, although he was old, the
heavy task he had begun. It came to this pass: the adversaries were unable
to prove payments that came within a long way of the sum they had at first
stated; on the contrary, more than two-thirds were wanting of the entire
sum agreed upon by the two Cardinals. Clement thought this a fine
opportunity to get rid of the business, and to leave Michael Angelo free
to serve him. He called him and said: "_Come, tell me, you wish to
complete this tomb; but you want to know who is to pay for the rest of
it._" Michael Angelo, who knew the Pope's mind, and that he wished to make
use of him himself, replied: "_And what if some one were found who would
pay me?_" Pope Clement said to him: "_You are quite mad if you imagine
that any one is likely to come forward to offer you a penny._" So when
Messer Tommaso, his attorney, appeared in court making his proposition to
the agents of the Duke, they began to look one another in the face, and
determined together that some sort of tomb should be made for the money
that had already been advanced. Michael Angelo, thinking well of it,
consented willingly, moved chiefly by the influence of the Cardinal of
Montevecchio, a follower of Julius II. and uncle to Julius III., now,
thanks be to God, our Pontiff. The agreement was: That Michael Angelo
should make a tomb with one _facade_ only, and that he should use the
marbles already carved for the quadrangular tomb, arranging them as best
he could; and that he should supply six statues from his own hand. It was
conceded to Pope Clement that Michael Angelo should serve him in Florence,
or wheresoever he pleased, four months in the year, his Holiness requiring
this for the work in Florence. Such was the contract agreed upon between
his Excellency the Duke and Michael Angelo.
XLIX. But now it must be understood that these accounts being settled
Michael Angelo, to appear more indebted to the Duke of Urbino and to give
Pope Clement less hope of sending him to Florence (where he did not by any
means wish to go), secretly agreed with the counsel and agent of his
Excellency that it should be said that he had received some thousand scudi
more on this account than he really had. This was done not only by word of
mouth, but without his knowledge and consent it was inserted in the
written contract, not when it was sealed but when it was written out, at
which he was much disturbed. Nevertheless, the counsel persuaded him that
it would not prejudice his case, for it did not matter whether the
contract specified twenty thousand or one thousand scudi, since they were
agreed that the scheme of the Tomb should now be reduced in scale
according to the amount of money actually received, adding that nobody but
themselves would question the proceeding, and his interests were secured
by the understanding that was between them. So with this Michael Angelo
was pacified, because it appeared to him that he might put his trust in
them, as also because he desired that this excuse should serve him with
the Pope for the purpose mentioned above. And thus the matter ended for
the time; but it was not nearly over yet, because after he had served the
four months at Florence and returned to Rome, the Pope sought to use him
in another way, by making him paint the end wall of the Sistine Chapel.
And as one who had a good wit, he thought of one thing after another until
finally he resolved to have the Day of the Last Judgment painted,
considering that the variety and grandeur of the subject would give a wide
field for this man to prove the power that was in him. Michael Angelo,
knowing the obligation he was under to the Duke of Urbino, endeavoured to
free himself from this new charge, but as he could not he put it off as
much as possible; whilst pretending to busy himself with the cartoon, as
he partly did, he was secretly working at the statues for the Tomb.
CHAPTER IX
THE LAST ACT OF THE TRAGEDY OF THE TOMB, AND THE DAY OF JUDGMENT
L. Meanwhile Pope Clement died and Paul III. was elected. He sent for
Michael Angelo and requested him to serve him. Michael Angelo, fearing
that he would be hindered in the work of the Tomb, replied that he could
not, for he was engaged by contract to the Duke of Urbino until he had
finished the work that he had in hand. The Pope was much annoyed, and
said: "_It is some thirty years that I have had this wish, shall I not
satisfy it now I am Pope? Where is the contract that I may tear it up?_"
Michael Angelo, seeing it had come to this, was for leaving Rome and
betaking himself to the country about Genoa, to an abbey of the Bishops of
Aleria, to a follower of Julius, very much his friend, and there bring his
work to an end. This place was conveniently near Carrara and good for
carrying the marbles by sea. He thought also of going to Urbino, where he
had formerly designed to live, as a quiet resting-place, and where, for
the sake of Julius, he would be welcomed cordially. For this reason he had
sent one of his men some months before to buy a house and some land; but
fearing the greatness of the Pontiff, with good reason, he did not go, and
hoped with soft words to satisfy the Pope.
LI. But the Pope continued firm in his proposals. One day he came to visit
Michael Angelo in his house, bringing with him eight or ten Cardinals. He
wished to see the cartoon for the wall of the Sistine Chapel made for
Clement, and the statues already carved for the Tomb, and minutely
examined everything. Then the Most Reverend Cardinal of Mantua, who was
present, seeing the Moses, of which we have already written, and of which
we will write more copiously by-and-bye, said: "_This statue alone is
enough to do honour to the Tomb of Pope Julius._" When Pope Paul had seen
everything he again asked Michael Angelo, in the presence of the
Cardinals, including the before-mentioned Most Reverend and Illustrious of
Mantua, to come and work for him, but finding Michael Angelo obdurate, he
said: "_I will arrange that the Duke of Urbino shall be satisfied with
these statues by your hand, and that the three remaining ones shall be
given to others to do._" He obtained a new contract from the agents,
confirmed by his Excellency the Duke, who did not wish to displease the
Pope. Although Michael Angelo might have avoided paying for these three
statues, this contract freeing him from the obligation, nevertheless he
wished to bear the expense himself, and he deposited for these and the
remaining works of the Tomb one thousand five hundred and eighty ducats.
Thus the agents of the Duke allowed it, and the Tragedy of the Tomb and
the Tomb itself had an end at last. To-day it may be seen in the Church of
San Pietro ad Vincula, not according to the first design with four sides,
but with one side, and that one of the lesser, not detached all round and
isolated, but built up against a wall on account of the hindrances
mentioned above. It is yet true that, although it is botched and patched
up, it is the most worthy monument to be found in Rome, or, perhaps,
anywhere else; if for nothing else, at least, for the three statues that
are by the hand of the master: among them that most marvellous Moses,
leader and captain of the Hebrews, who is seated in an attitude of thought
and wisdom, holding under his right arm the tables of the law, and
supporting his chin with his left hand, like one tired and full of cares.
Between the fingers of that hand escape long waves of his beard--a very
beautiful thing to see. And his face is full of life and thought, and
capable of inspiring love and terror, which, perhaps, was the truth. It
has, according to the usual descriptions, the two horns on his head a
little way from the top of the forehead. He is robed and shod in the
manner of the antique, with his arms bare. A work most marvellous and full
of art, and much more so because all the form is apparent beneath the
beautiful garments with which it is covered. The dress does not hide the
shape and beauty of the body, as, in a word, may be seen in all Michael
Angelo's clothed figures, whether in painting or sculpture. The statue is
more than twice the size of life. At the right hand of this statue, under
a niche, is one that represents Contemplative Life--a woman, larger than
life and of rare beauty, with bent knee, not to the ground but on a
plinth, with her face and both her hands raised to heaven, so that she
seems to breathe love in every part. On the other side, that is to say on
the left of Moses, is Active Life, with a mirror in her right hand, into
which she gazes attentively, meaning by this that our actions should be
governed by forethought; and in her left hand a garland of flowers. In
this Michael Angelo followed Dante, of whom he was always a great student,
for in his Purgatorio he feigns to have the Countess Matilda, whom he
takes to represent Active Life, in a field full of flowers. The Tomb is
altogether beautiful, especially the binding of the several parts together
by the great cornice, to which no one could take exception.
LII. Now that is enough for this work; indeed, I fear it is only too much,
and that instead of giving pleasure it will have been tedious to the
reader. Nevertheless, it appeared to me necessary, in order to remove
those unfortunate and false scandals, rooted in men's minds, that Michael
Angelo had received sixteen thousand scudi, and then would not carry out
the work he had undertaken. Neither the one nor the other was true,
because he had from Julius for the Tomb only one thousand ducats, spent in
those months of quarrying marble at Carrara. How then could Michael Angelo
have received money for it from him, since he changed his purpose and
would hear no more of the Tomb? As to the money Michael Angelo received,
after the death of Pope Julius, from the two cardinals, his executors,
Michael Angelo possesses a written public acknowledgment--by the hand of a
notary, from Bernardo Bini, Florentine citizen, who was trustee, and payed
out the money--that the payments amounted to about three thousand ducats.
Never was man more anxious about his work than Michael Angelo in this, as
much because he knew how great fame it would bring him as for the loving
memory in which he always held the blessed spirit of Pope Julius, for that
reason he has always honoured and loved the House della Rovere, and
especially the Dukes of Urbino, for that reason he has contended with two
Popes, as has been said, who wished to withdraw him from the undertaking.
But what grieved Michael Angelo the most, is that instead of thanks all he
got was odium and disgrace.
LIII. But returning to Pope Paul. I must tell you that after the last
agreement made between his Excellency the Duke and Michael Angelo, the
Pope took Michael Angelo into his service, and desired him to carry out
what he had begun in the time of Clement, to paint the end wall of the
Sistine Chapel, which he had already covered with rough-cast and screened
off with boards from floor to ceiling. As this work was instigated by Pope
Clement, and begun in his time, it does not bear the arms of Paul,
although he desired it; but Pope Paul so loved and reverenced Michael
Angelo that however much he desired it he would never have vexed him. In
this work Michael Angelo expressed all that the human figure is capable of
in the art of painting, not leaving out any pose or action whatsoever. The
composition is careful and well thought out, but lengthy to describe;
perhaps it is unnecessary, as so many engravings and such a variety of
drawings of it have been dispersed everywhere. Nevertheless, for those who
have not seen the real thing, and into whose hands the engravings have not
come, let us say, briefly, that the whole is divided into parts, right and
left, upper and lower, and central. In the central part, near to the
earth, are seven angels, described by Saint John in the Apocalypse, with
trumpets to their lips, calling the dead to judgment from the four corners
of the earth. With them are two others having an open book in their hands,
in which every one reads and recognises his past life, having almost to
judge himself. At the sound of these trumpets the graves open and the
human race issues from the earth, all with varied and marvellous gestures;
while in some, according to the prophecy of Ezekiel, the bones only have
come together, in some they are half clothed with flesh, and in others
entirely covered; some naked, some clothed in the shrouds and
grave-clothes in which they were wrapped when buried, and of which they
seek to divest themselves. Among these are some who are not yet fully
risen, and looking up to heaven in doubt as to whither Divine justice
shall call them. It is a delightful thing to see them with labour and
pains issue forth from the earth, and, with arms out-stretched to heaven,
take flight; those who are already risen lifted up into the air, some
higher and some lower, with different gestures and characters. Above the
angels of the trumpets is the Son of God in majesty, in the form of a man,
with arm and strong right hand uplifted. He wrathfully curses the wicked,
and drives them from before his face into eternal fire. With His left hand
stretched out to those on the right, He seems to draw the good gently to
Himself. The angels are seen between heaven and earth as executors of the
Divine commands. On the right they rush to aid the elect, whose flight is
impeded by malignant spirits; and on the left to dash back to earth the
damned, who in their audacity attempt to scale the heavens. Evil spirits
drag down these wicked ones into the abyss, the proud by the hair of the
head, and so also every sinner by the member through which he sinned.
Beneath them is seen Charon with his black boat, just as Dante described
him in the "Inferno," on muddy Acheron, raising his oar to strike some
laggard soul. As the bark touches the bank, pushed on by Divine justice,
all these souls strive to fling themselves ashore, so that fear, as the
poet says, is changed into longing. Afterwards they receive from Minos
their sentence, to be dragged by demons to the bottomless pit, where are
marvellous contortions, grievous and desperate as the place demands. In
the middle of the composition, on the clouds of heaven, the Blessed
already arisen form a crown and circle around the Son of God. Apart, and
beside the Son, appears His Mother, timorous and seeming hardly secure
herself from the wrath and mystery of God; she draws as near as possible
to the Son. Next to her the Baptist, the Twelve Apostles, and all the
saints of God, each one showing to the tremendous Judge the symbol of the
martyrdom by which he glorified God: St. Andrew the cross, St. Bartholomew
his skin, St. Lawrence the gridiron, St. Sebastian the arrows, San Biagio
the combs of iron, St. Catherine the wheel, and others other things
whereby they are known. Above these on the right and left, on the upper
part of the wall, are groups of angels, with actions gracious and rare,
raising in heaven the Cross of the Son of God, the Sponge, the Crown of
Thorns, the Nails, and the Column of the Flagellation, to reproach the
wicked with the blessings of God of which they have been so heedless, and
for which they have been so ungrateful, and to comfort and give confidence
to the good. There are infinite details which I pass over in silence. It
is enough that, besides the divine composition, all that the human figure
is capable of in the art of painting is here to be seen.
CHAPTER X
THE CHAPEL OF POPE PAUL AND THE PIETA OF SANTA MARIA DEL FIORE
LIV. Finally, Pope Paul having built a chapel on the same floor as the
before-mentioned Sistine, he desired to decorate it in his own memory, and
he made Michael Angelo paint the frescoes on the side walls. In one is
represented the crucifixion of St. Peter; in the other the story of St.
Paul--how he was converted by the apparition of Jesus Christ--both
stupendous in general composition as in the individual figures. And this
is the last work of painting by Michael Angelo that has been seen to this
day; he finished it in his seventy-fifth year. At present he has in hand a
group in marble, which he works at for his pleasure, as one who full of
ideas and powers must produce something every day. It is a group of four
figures, larger than life--a Deposition. The dead Christ is held up by His
Mother; she supports the body on her bosom with her arms and with her
knees, a wonderfully beautiful gesture. She is aided by Nicodemus above,
who is erect and stands firmly--he holds her under the arms and sustains
her with manly strength--and on the left by one of the Marys, who, although
exhibiting the deepest grief, does not omit to do those offices that the
Mother, by the extremity of her sorrow, is unable to perform. The Christ
is dead, all His limbs fall relaxed, but withall in a very different
manner from the Christ Michael Angelo made for the Marchioness of Pescara
or the Christ in the Madonna della Febbre. It is impossible to speak of
its beauty and its sorrow, of the grieving and sad faces of them all,
especially of the afflicted Mother. Let it suffice; I tell you it is a
rare thing, and one of the most laborious works that he has yet done,
principally because all the figures are distinct from each other, the
folds of the draperies of one figure not confused with those of the
others.
LV. Michael Angelo has done infinitely more things of which I have not
spoken, such as the Christ that is in the Church of the Minerva, a St.
Matthew in Florence; when he began it he designed to carve all the twelve
Apostles to be placed near twelve pilasters in the Duomo. His cartoons for
several works of paintings, and of designs for buildings, both public and
private, are infinite in number; and, lastly, for a bridge to span the
Grand Canal of Venice, of a new shape and style of which the like was
never seen; and many other things never to be seen. It would be long to
describe them, so I make an end. He intends to give the Deposition from
the Cross to some church, and to be buried at the foot of the altar where
it is placed. The Lord God in His goodness long preserve him to us, for
without doubt the same day will end his life and his labours, as is
written of Socrates. His active and vigorous old age gives me firm hope
that he has many years to live, as also the long life of his father, who
lived to ninety-two years without knowing what it was to have a fever, and
then dying more for lack of resolution than for any illness; so that when
he was dead, as Michael Angelo relates, his face retained the same colour
that he had when living, appearing rather asleep than dead.
LVI. From a child Michael Angelo was a hard worker, and to the gifts of
nature added study, not using the labours and industry of others, but,
desiring to learn from nature herself, he set her up before him as the
true example. There is no animal whose anatomy he did not desire to study,
much more than that of man; so that those who have spent all their lives
in that science, and who make a profession of it, hardly know so much of
it as he. I speak of such knowledge as is necessary to the arts of
painting and sculpture, not of other minutiae that anatomists observe. And
thus it is that his figures show so much art and learning, so that they
are inimitable by any painter whatever. I have always been of this
opinion, that the forces and efforts of nature have a prescribed end,
fixed and ordained by God, which it is impossible for ordinary powers to
pass; and this is so not only in painting and sculpture, but universally
in all arts and sciences; and that she gives power to one person that he
may be a rule and example in a particular art, giving him the first place;
so that afterwards, if any one desires to bring forth a great work in that
art, worthy to be read or seen, he must work in the same way as the first
great example, or, at least, similarly, and go by his road; for if he does
not his work will be much inferior, the worse the more he diverges from
the direct path. After Plato and Aristotle, how many philosophers have we
seen who, not following them, have been worth anything? How many orators
after Demosthenes and Cicero? How many mathematicians after Euclid and
Archimedes? How many doctors after Hypocrates and Galen? Or poets after
Homer and Virgil? And if there has been any one who has been able by his
own abilities to arrive at the first place in any one of these sciences
and finds it already occupied, he either acknowledges the first one to
have arrived at perfection, and gives up the attempt, or if he has sense
he follows him as the ideal of the perfect. This has been exemplified in
our own day in Bembo, in Sanazzaro, in Caro, in Guidoccione, in the
Marchioness of Pescara, and in other writers and lovers of the Tuscan
rhyme, who, although gifted with the highest and most singular genius,
none the less, not being able of themselves to do better than nature
exemplifies in Petrarca, they set themselves to follow him, but so happily
that they are judged worthy to be read and counted with the best.
CHAPTER XI
CONCLUSION OF THE LIFE BY CONDIVI
LVII. Now to consider my remarks. I say, that it seems to me, that nature
has endowed Michael Angelo so largely with all her riches in these arts of
painting and sculpture, that I am not to be reproached for saying that his
figures are almost inimitable. Nor does it appear that I have allowed
myself to be too much carried away, for until now he alone has worthily
taken up both chisel and brush. Of the painting of the ancients there is
no memorial, and to whom does he yield in their sculpture (of which,
indeed, much remains)? In the judgment of men learned in the art, to no
one, unless we stoop to the opinion of the vulgar, who admire the antique
for the sole reason that they envy the genius and industry of their own
times. All the same, I have not yet heard any one say the contrary; this
man is so far above envy. Raffael da Urbino, although he desired to
compete with Michael Angelo, was often constrained to say that he thanked
God he was born in his time as he acquired from him a style very different
from that which he learnt from his father, who was a painter, and from his
master Perugino. But what greater and clearer sign can we ever have of the
excellence of this man than the contention of the Princes of the world for
him? From the four Pontiffs, Julius, Leo, Clement, and Paul, to the Grand
Turk, father of him who to-day holds the Empire. As I have said above, the
Sultan sent certain monks of the Order of Saint Francis with letters
begging Michael Angelo to come and stay with him; arranging by letters of
credit for the bank of the Gondi, in Florence, to advance the amount of
money necessary for his journey, and also that from Cossa, near Ragusi, he
should be accompanied to Constantinople most honourably by one of his
grandees. Francesco(54) Valesio, King of France, tried every means to get
him, crediting him with three thousand scudi for his journey whenever he
should go. Il Bruciolo was sent to Rome by the Signoria of Venice to
invite him to come and dwell in that city, and to offer him a provision of
six hundred scudi a year, not binding him to anything, only that he should
honour the Republic with his presence; with the condition also that if he
did any work in her service he should be paid for it as if he received no
pension from them at all. These are not ordinary doings that happen every
day, but new and out of the common use, and would only happen to singular
and most excellent worth, as was that of Homer, for whom many cities
contested, each one appropriating him as her own.
LVIII. He is held of no less account, than by those already named, by the
present Pontiff, Julius III., a Prince of supreme wisdom and a lover and
patron of all the arts; but particularly inclined to painting, sculpture,
and architecture, as may be clearly known by the works he has done in the
Palazzo and the Belvedere, and now has ordered for his villa Giulia (a
memorial and scheme worthy of a noble and generous soul like his). It is
filled with so many statues, ancient and modern, so great variety of
beautiful stones, precious columns, plaster work, paintings, and every
other kind of ornament, of which I will write another time, as a unique
work, not yet in its perfection, requires. He does not ask Michael Angelo
to work for him. Having respect for his age, he understands well and
appreciates his greatness; but wishes not to overburden him. This regard,
in my judgment, brings Michael Angelo more honour than all his employment
under the other Popes. It is, however, true, that in the paintings and
architecture that his Holiness is continually having done, he almost
always seeks Michael Angelo's advice and judgment, frequently sending the
artists to seek him at his house. It grieves me, and it grieves also his
Holiness, that by reason of a certain natural timidity, or let us say
respect and reverence, which some call pride, Michael Angelo does not
profit by the goodwill, kindness, and liberality of so great a Pontiff and
so much his friend. As I first heard from the most Reverend Monsignor di
Forli, his chamberlain, the Pope has often said that (if it were possible)
he would willingly take from his own years and his own blood to add to the
life of Michael Angelo, that the world might not so soon be deprived of
such a man. I also, having access to his Holiness, heard it from his lips
with my own ears, and more also, that if he survives him, as in the
natural course of life is probable, he will have Michael Angelo's body
embalmed and keep it near him, so that it should be as lasting as his
works. He said this at the beginning of his Pontificate to Michael Angelo
himself in the presence of many. I do not know what could be more
honourable to Michael Angelo than these words, or a greater proof of the
esteem in which the Pope holds him.
LIX. Again the Pope showed his esteem plainly when Pope Paul died and he
was created Pontiff, in a consistory, all the Cardinals then in Rome being
present. He defended Michael Angelo and protected him from the overseers
of the fabric of St. Peter's, who, for no fault of his, as they said, but
of his servants, wished to deprive him of, or at least to restrain, that
authority given him by Pope Paul by a _moto proprio_, of which more will
be said below. He defended him, and not only confirmed the _moto proprio_
but honoured him by many kind words, not lending his ears to the quarrels
of the overseers or anybody else. Michael Angelo knows (as many times he
has told me) the love and kindness of his Holiness towards him, and how he
respects him; and because he cannot requite the Pope with his services,
and show his love, he will regret all the rest of his life that he seems
useless and appears ungrateful to his Holiness. One thing comforts him
somewhat (as he is accustomed to say); knowing the wisdom of his Holiness
he hopes to be excused, and being unable to give more, that his good will
may be accepted. Nor does he refuse, as far as he has the power, and for
all he may be worth, to spend his life in his service; this I have from
his own mouth. Nevertheless, at the request of his Holiness, Michael
Angelo designed the facade of a palace that the Pope had a mind to build
in Rome, a thing new and original to those who have seen it--not bound to
any laws, ancient or modern, as in many other works of his in Florence and
in Rome--proving that architecture has not been so arbitrarily handled in
the past that there is not room for fresh invention no less delightful and
beautiful.
LX. Now to return to anatomy. He gave up dissection because it turned his
stomach so that he could neither eat nor drink with benefit. It is very
true that he did not give up until he was so learned and rich in such
knowledge that he often had in his mind the wish to write, for the sake of
sculptors and painters, a treatise on the movements of the human body, its
aspect, and concerning the bones, with an ingenious theory of his own,
devised after long practice. He would have done it had he not mistrusted
his powers, lest they should not suffice to treat with dignity and grace
of such a subject, like one practised in the sciences and in rhetoric. I
know well that when he reads Alberto Duro he finds him very weak, seeing
in his own mind how much more beautiful and useful his own conception
would be. To tell the truth, Alberto only treats of the proportions and
diversities of the body, for which one cannot make fixed rules, making
figures as regular as posts; and what matters more, says nothing of human
movements and gestures. And because Michael Angelo has now reached a ripe
old age, he thinks of putting his ideas in writing and giving them to the
world. With great devotion he has explained everything minutely to me; he
also conferred with Messer Realdo Colombo, an anatomist and most excellent
surgeon, a great friend of Michael Angelo's and mine. He sent to Michael
Angelo for study the body of a Moor, a very fine young man, and very
suitable to the purpose; he was sent to Santa Agata, where I then lived
and still live, as it is a quiet place. On this corpse Michael Angelo
showed me many rare and recondite facts, perhaps never before understood,
all of which I noted down, and hope one day, with the help of some learned
man, to publish for the advantage and use of painters and sculptors; but
enough of this.
LXI. He devoted himself to perspective and to architecture, his works show
with what profit. Michael Angelo did not content himself with knowing only
the main features of architecture, but wished also to know about
everything that could be useful in any way in that profession, such as
ties, platforms, scaffolding, and such like, he knew as much of these
things as those who profess nothing else, which was exemplified in the
time of Julius II. in this wise. When Michael Angelo had to paint the
ceiling of the Sistine Chapel the Pope ordered Bramante to erect the
scaffolding. For all the architect he was he did not know how to do it,
but pierced the vault in many places, letting down certain ropes through
these holes to sling the platform. When Michael Angelo saw it he smiled,
and asked Bramante what was to be done when he came to those holes?
Bramante had no defence to make, only replied that it could not be done
any other way. The matter came before the Pope, and Bramante replied again
to the same effect. The Pope turned to Michael Angelo and said: _"As it is
not satisfactory go and do it yourself."_ Michael Angelo took down the
platform, and took away so much rope from it, that having given it to a
poor man that assisted him, it enabled him to dower and marry two
daughters. Michael Angelo erected his scaffold without ropes, so well
devised and arranged that the more weight it had to bear the firmer it
became. This opened Bramante's eyes, and gave him a lesson in the building
of a platform, which was very useful to him in the works of St. Peter's.
For all that, Michael Angelo, although he had no equal in all these
things, would not make a profession of architecture. On the contrary, when
at last Antonio da San Gallo, the architect of St. Peter's, died, and Pope
Paul wished to put Michael Angelo in his place, he refused the post,
saying that architecture was not his art. He refused it so earnestly that
the Pope had to command him to take it, and issue an ample _moto proprio_,
which was afterwards confirmed by Pope Julius III., now, as I have said,
by the grace of God, our Pontiff. For these, his services, Michael Angelo
received no payment; so he wished it to be stated in the _moto proprio_.
One day, when Pope Paul sent him a hundred scudi of gold by Messer Pier
Giovanni, then Gentleman of the Wardrobe to his Holiness, now Bishop of
Forli, as his month's salary on account of the building, Michael Angelo
would not accept it, saying it was not in the agreement they had between
them, and he sent them back. The Pope was very angry, as I have been told
by Messer Alessandro Ruffini, a gentleman of Rome, then Groom to the
Chambers and Carver before his Holiness; but this did not move Michael
Angelo from his resolution. When he had accepted this charge he made a new
model, both because certain parts of the old one did not please him in
many respects, and, besides, if it was followed one would sooner expect to
see the end of the world than St. Peter's finished. This model, praised
and approved by the Pope, is now being followed to the great satisfaction
of those who have judgment, although there be certain persons who do not
approve of it.
LXII. Michael Angelo gave himself, then, whilst still young, not only to
sculpture and painting, but to all the kindred arts, with such devotion
that for a time he almost withdrew from the fellowship of men, only
consorting with a few. So that by some he was held to be proud, and by
others odd and eccentric, though he had none of these vices; but (like
many excellent men) a love of knowledge and continued exercise in the
learned arts made him solitary, and he was so satisfied and took such a
delight in them that company not only did not please him but even annoyed
him, as interrupting his meditations he was never less solitary than when
alone (as the great Scipio used to say of himself).
LXIII. Nevertheless, he willingly kept the friendship of those from whose
wise and learned conversation he could gather any fruit and in whom shone
some ray of excellence, such as the Most Reverend and Illustrious
Monsignor Polo,(55) for his rare learning and singular goodness; and
similarly my Most Reverend patron the Cardinal Crispo, finding in him
besides his many good qualities a rare and excellent judgment. He had also
a great affection for the Most Reverend Cardinal Santa Croce, a man of
great weight and most prudent, of whom I have heard him speak more than
once with the highest esteem; and the Most Reverend Maffei, whose goodness
and learning he always speaks of; and generally loves and honours all the
House of the Farnese, for the lively memory he cherishes of Pope Paul,
recalling him with the utmost reverence, speaking of him constantly as a
good and holy old man. And so, too, the Most Reverend Patriarch of
Jerusalem, formerly Bishop of Cesena, with whom he has often conversed
familiarly, as one whose open and liberal nature much pleased him. He had
also a close friendship with my Most Reverend patron, the Cardinal
Ridolfi, of happy memory, the refuge of all men of talent. There are
others whom I leave out, so as not to be tedious, as Monsignor Claudio
Tolemei, Messer Lorenzo Ridolfi, Messer Donato Giannotti, Messer Lionardo
Malaspini, Il Lottino, Messer Tomaso de' Cavalieri, and other honourable
gentlemen, of whom I will not write at length. Finally, he has a great
affection for Annibal Caro. He has told me that he is sorry not to have
known him before, as he is so much to his taste. More particularly he
loved greatly the Marchioness of Pescara, of whose divine spirit he was
enamoured, being in return loved tenderly by her. He still possesses many
letters of hers, full of an honest and most sweet love, such as issued
from her heart. He has written to her also many and many sonnets, full of
wit and sweet desire. She often returned to Rome from Viterbo and other
places, where she had gone for her pastime and to spend the summer, for no
other reason than to see Michael Angelo; and he bore her so much love that
I remember to have heard him say: Nothing grieved him so much as that when
he went to see her after she passed away from this life he did not kiss
her on the brow or face, as he did kiss her hand. Recalling this, her
death, he often remained dazed as one bereft of sense. He made at the wish
of his lady a naked Christ, when He was taken down from the Cross, and His
dead body would have fallen at the feet of His most holy Mother, if it
were not supported by the arms of two angels; but she, seated under the
Cross with a tearful and sorrowful face, raises to heaven both hands with
her arms out-stretched, with this cry, which one reads inscribed on the
stem of the cross:
NON VI SI PENSA QUANTO SANGUE COSTA!
The Cross is like that which was carried in procession by the Bianchi at
the time of the plague of 1348, and afterwards placed in the Church of
Santa Croce, at Florence. He also made for love of her a drawing of a Jesu
Christ on the Cross, not as if dead, as is the common use, but with a
Divine gesture. Raising His face to the Father He seems to say, "Eli,
Eli." The body does not hang like a corpse but as if still living, and
contorted by the bitter agony of His death.
LXIV. And as he greatly delighted in the conversation of the learned, so
he took pleasure in the study of the writers of both prose and poetry. He
had a special admiration for Dante, delighting in the admirable genius of
that man, almost all of whose works he knew by heart; he held Petrarca in
no less esteem. He not only delighted in reading, but occasionally in
composing, too, as may be seen by some sonnets that are to be found of
his. Concerning some of them, there have been published--"Lectures and
Criticisms by Varchi." But he wrote these sonnets more for his pleasure
than because he made a profession of it, always belittling them himself,
accusing himself of ignorance in these matters.
LXV. Likewise, with deep study and attention, he read the Holy Scriptures,
both the Old and the New Testaments, and searched them diligently, as also
the writings of Savonarola, for whom he always had a great affection,
keeping always in his mind the memory of his living voice. He has also
loved the beauty of the human body, as one who best understands it; and in
such wise that certain carnal-minded men, who do not comprehend the love
of beauty, have taken occasion to think and speak evil of him, as if
Alcibiades, a youth of perfect beauty, had not been purely loved by
Socrates, from whose side he arose as from the side of his father. I have
often heard Michael Angelo reason and discourse of Love, and learned
afterwards from those who were present that he did not speak otherwise of
Love than is to be found written in the works of Plato. For myself I do
not know what Plato says of Love, but I know well that I, who have known
Michael Angelo so long and so intimately, have never heard issue from his
mouth any but the most honest of words, which had the power to extinguish
in youth every ill-regulated and unbridled desire which might arise. By
this we may know that no evil thoughts were born in him. He loved not only
human beauty, but universally every beautiful thing--a beautiful horse, a
beautiful dog, a beautiful country, a beautiful plant, a beautiful
mountain, a beautiful forest, and every place and thing beautiful and rare
after its kind, admiring them all with a marvellous love; thus choosing
the beauty in nature as the bees gather honey from the flowers, using it
afterwards in his works, as all those have done who have ever made a noise
in painting. That old master who had to paint a Venus was not content to
see one virgin only, but studied many, and taking from each her most
beautiful and perfect feature gave them to his Venus; and, in truth, who
ever expects to arrive at a true theory of art without this method of
study is greatly mistaken.
LXVI. All through his life Michael Angelo has been very abstemious, taking
food more from necessity than from pleasure, especially when at work, at
which time, for the most part, he has been content with a piece of bread,
which he munched whilst he laboured. But latterly he has lived more
regularly, his advanced age requiring it. I have often heard him say:
"_Ascanio, rich man as I have made myself, I have always lived as a poor
one._" And as he took little food so he took little sleep, which, as he
says, rarely did him any good, for sleeping almost always made his head
ache, and too much sleep made his stomach bad. When he was more robust he
often slept in his clothes and with his buskins on; this he made a habit
of for fear of the cramp, from which he continually suffered, besides
other reasons; and he has sometimes been so long without taking them off
that when he did so the skin came off with them like the slough of a
snake. He was never miserly with his money, nor did he hoard it, contented
with enough to live honestly. Works from his hand were sought for more and
more by the gentry and rich people with large promises, but he has rarely
satisfied them; and when he has done so, it has been from friendship and
goodwill rather than for hope of reward.
LXVII. He has given away many of his things, which, if he had wished to
sell them, would have brought him in endless money; as, for example, were
there no others, the two statues that he gave to Roberto Strozzi, his
great friend.(56) He has not only been liberal with his works, but with
his purse also he has often helped the talented and studious poor in their
need, whether men of letters or painters; of this I am able to testify,
having benefited by it myself. He was never jealous of the labours of
others even in his own art, more by his goodness of nature than any
opinion he had of himself. On the contrary, he has praised all
universally, even Raphael of Urbino, between whom and himself there was
formally some rivalry in painting, as I have written; only I have heard
him say that Raphael had not his art by nature, but acquired it by long
study. Nor is it true what many say of him, that he would not teach; on
the contrary, he has done so willingly, as I know myself, for to me he has
made known all the secrets of his art; but unfortunately he has met either
with pupils little apt, or even if apt without perseverance, so after
working under his discipline a few months they thought themselves masters.
Now, although he would readily do kindly acts, he was unwilling to have
them known, wishing more to do well than to appear to do so. It must also
be known that he has always desired to cultivate the arts in persons of
nobility, as was the manner of the ancients, and not in plebeians.
LXVIII. Michael Angelo had a most retentive memory, so that although he
has painted so many thousand figures, as may be seen, he has never made
one like to another, or in the same pose; indeed, I have heard him say
that if ever he draws a line which he remembers to have drawn before, he
rubs it out if it is to come before the public. He has also a most
powerful imagination, from whence it comes, firstly, that he is little
contented with his work, his hand not appearing to carry out the ideas he
has conceived in his mind. And, secondly, from the same cause (as often
happens to those who lead a peaceful and contemplative life), he has
always been somewhat timid; saving only when a just indignation against
some wrong or lapse of duty to himself or to others moves him, then he
plucks up more spirit than those who are held to be courageous; otherwise
he is of a most patient disposition. Of his modesty it is not possible to
say as much as he deserves; and so also of his manners, and his ways, they
are seasoned with pleasantries and sharp sayings: for instance, his
conversation at Bologna with a certain gentleman, who, seeing the mere
largeness and mass of the bronze statue Michael Angelo had made, marvelled
and said: "_Which do you suppose to be the larger, this statue or a pair
of oxen?_" To whom Michael Angelo replied: "_It is according to the oxen
you mean; if it be these of Bologna doubtless they are much larger; if
ours of Florence they are much smaller._"(57) So also when Il Francia, who
was at that time thought to be an Apelles in Bologna, came to see that
same statue and said: "_This is a beautiful bronze_," it seemed to Michael
Angelo that he was praising the metal and not the form, so he laughingly
replied: "_If this be beautiful bronze, I must thank Pope Julius for it,
who gave it to me, as you have to thank the apothecaries who provide your
colours_." And another day, seeing the child of Francia, who was a very
beautiful boy: "_My son,_" said he, "_your father makes better living
pictures than painted ones._"
LXIX. Michael Angelo is of a good complexion; his figure rather sinuous
and bony than fleshy and fat; healthy above all by nature, as well as by
the use of exercise and his continence of life and moderation in taking
food; nevertheless, as a child he was feeble and sickly, and as a man he
had two illnesses. He has suffered much for several years in the passing
of urine, which trouble would have turned into a stone if he had not been
relieved by the care and diligence of the before-mentioned Messer Realdo.
Michael Angelo has always had a good colour in his face; he is of middle
height; he is broad shouldered, with the rest of the body in proportion,
rather slight than not. The shape of his skull in front is round; the
height above the ear is a sixth part of the circumference round the middle
of the head, so that the temples project somewhat beyond the ears, and the
ears beyond the cheek-bones, and the cheek-bones beyond the rest of the
face; the skull in proportion to the face must be called large. The front
view of the forehead is square, the nose a little flattened, not
naturally, but because when he was a boy, one Torrigiano, a brutal and
proud fellow, with a blow almost broke the cartilage, so that Michael
Angelo was carried home as one dead; for this Torrigiano was banished from
Florence, and he came to a bad end.(58) Michael Angelo's nose, such as it
is, is in proportion to the forehead and the rest of the face. His lips
are mobile, the lower one somewhat the thicker, so that seen in profile it
sticks out a little. The chin goes well with the above-mentioned parts.
The forehead in profile is almost in front of the nose, which is little
less than broken, except for a small lump in the middle. The eyebrows have
few hairs; the eyes are rather small than otherwise, the colour is that of
horn, but changing, with sparkles of yellow and blue; the ears in
proportion; the hair black, and beard also, but, in this his seventy-ninth
year, plentifully sprinkled with grey; his beard is forked, four or five
fingers long and not very thick, as may be seen in his portraits. Many
other things remain to be said, but I have left them out because of the
hurry in which I bring out these writings, hearing that others(59) wish to
reap the reward of my labours, which I had confided to their hands; so, if
it should ever happen that another should undertake this work again, I
hereby offer to tell him all I know, or most lovingly to give it to him in
writing. I hope before long to bring out some of Michael Angelo's sonnets
and madrigals, which I have for a long time collected, both from himself
and from others, that the world may know the worth of his imaginations,
and how many beautiful conceits were born in his divine spirit, and with
this I close.
PART II
THE WORKS OF MICHAEL ANGELO
"Non essendo homo in Italia apto ad expedire una opera di costesta
qualita, e necessario che lui solo, e non altro."
_Piero Soderini to the Marchese Alberigo Malaspina_, GAYE ii. 107.
CHAPTER I
THE RAPE OF DEIANEIRA, OR THE BATTLE OF THE CENTAURS, AND THE ANGEL OF THE
SHRINE OF SAINT DOMINIC
All accounts agree as to the precocity of the genius of Michael Angelo,
and Piero Soderini vouches for its practical character in the words quoted
above. It was not until he had suffered from the procrastination and
uncertainty of the patronage of the Popes, that his work took him so long
to finish that sometimes it had to be left incomplete. His early works
were remarkable, not only for their high finish but also for the
expedition with which they were carried out.
Condivi has given us the story of his early difficulties and of his first
picture,(60) probably in Michael Angelo's own words; we may supplement
this account by the following extract from Vasari, who gathered his
information from the gossip of the workshops of Florence, and from Ridolfo
Ghirlandaio, the son of his first master. "Michael Angelo grew in power
and character so rapidly that Domenico(61) was astonished, seeing him do
things quite extraordinary in a youth, for it seemed to him that he not
only surpassed the other students, of whom Domenico had a large number,
but that he often equalled the work done by him as master. Now, one of the
lads who studied under Domenico made a pen-drawing of some women, draped,
after Ghirlandaio. Michael Angelo took up the paper, and with a thicker
pen went over the outline of one of the women with a new line, correcting
it, and making it perfect, so that it is wonderful to see the difference
between the two styles, and the ability and judgment of a boy, so spirited
and bold that he had the courage to correct his master's handiwork. This
drawing is to-day in my possession, valued as a relic. I had it from
Granacci to put it in my book of drawings with others given to me by
Michael Angelo. In the year 1550, being in Rome, I, Giorgio, showed it to
Michael Angelo, who recognised it and was pleased to see it again, saying
modestly that he knew more of art as a child than now as an old man.(62)
It happened that Domenico was working in the great Chapel of Santa Maria
Novella, and one day when he was out Michael Angelo set himself to draw
from nature the scaffolding, the tables with all the materials of the art,
and some of the young men at work. Presently Domenico returned, and saw
Michael Angelo's drawing. He was astonished, saying this boy knows more
than I do; and he was stupefied by this style and new realism: a gift from
heaven to a child of such tender years."
The first art school of Michael Angelo was the beautiful Church of Santa
Maria Novella, called by him affectionately "_Mia Sposa_." Here, day by
day, he beheld the "Last Judgment" of Orcagna, the enthroned figures in
the Spanish Chapel, and the solemn blue Madonna, now in the Capella
Rucellai, with its little figures of prophets on the frame that are
already almost Michael Angelesque. Here he transferred cartoons for
Domenico and painted draperies and ornaments; here he mixed colours for
fresco painting after the Florentine fashion; and here possibly he first
painted on a vault. No certain trace of his handiwork can be identified
upon the walls, but there is a nude figure seated upon the steps resting
his chin upon his hand in the fresco of the Blessed Virgin going to the
Temple, that has a sinister expression and a force of modelling that
Domenico does not usually command.
Now Lorenzo de' Medici, the Magnificent, desired to encourage the art of
sculpture in Florence; he therefore established a museum of antiquities in
his garden near San Marco, and made Bertoldo, the pupil of Donatello and
the foreman of his workshop, keeper of the collection, with a special
commission to aid and instruct the young men who studied there. Lorenzo
requested Domenico Ghirlandaio to select from his pupils those he
considered the most promising, and send them to work in the garden.
Domenico sent Michael Angelo Buonarroti and Francesco Granacci; possibly
he was rather glad to get these talented elements of insubordination out
of his workshop. Thus it was that Michael Angelo came under the influence
of a pupil and foreman of Donatello. Bertoldo must be considered the
instructor of Michael Angelo in his beloved art of sculpture, and the most
important influence in shaping his genius. Very little is known of the man
upon whom this responsibility was placed, but he appears to have been
worthy of it. Vasari tells us that Bertoldo "was old and could not work;
that he was none the less an able and highly reputed artist, not only
because he had most diligently chased and polished the casts in bronze for
the pupils of Donatello his master, but also for the numerous casts in
bronze of battle-pieces and other little things, which he had executed of
his own; there was no one then in Florence more masterly in such work." We
have no important work entirely by Bertoldo, but he must have been a
considerable artist or he would not have been appointed to his important
post by such a wise man as Lorenzo the Magnificent. His share of the work
for the pulpits of San Lorenzo was probably much greater than we are
accustomed to think. Vasari's word _rinettato_ had a much wider meaning to
him than it has to us, the chasing of a bronze was considered no small
part of its quality by the Florentines. Lorenzo Ghiberti's supposed
superiority over his competitors for the doors of San Giovanni was more in
his superb finish than in anything else. The pulpits in San Lorenzo have
something about them that is between the art of Donatello and the art of
Michael Angelo; we may even owe a large part of the composition in some of
the stories to Bertoldo. Donatello must have needed a man of judgment and
ability to carry out the numerous and important commissions that issued
from his workshops in his old age. That Michael Angelo studied the pulpits
of San Lorenzo is proved by the numerous motives he took from them in
after life; the general aspect of the figures strangely suggests the
"terribilita" of his style, and the beginnings of several of his motives
can be traced to them, such as the _Centaurs_, the _Pieta_, and, in the
Sistine ceiling, the _Adam_; the monochrome putti used as Caryatides; the
single putto placed at the springing of two arches; the athletes
supporting garlands, similar in proportion to the cherubs supporting
garlands used for the capitals of columns in the pulpits; two figures for
the spaces over the windows. The man with the clean-shaven and bird-like
face writing in a book and dressed in trousers tied in at the ankles, like
the captive barbarians of Roman art, in one of the semi-circular spaces
round the windows, is very like a man standing behind the Madonna who
supports the dead Christ in the deposition of the pulpit. Perhaps it is a
portrait of old Bertoldo himself. In this panel, too, are horsemen riding
animals similar to the ones Michael Angelo drew in his last fresco, _The
Conversion of Saint Paul_. The composition for the scourging of Christ,
supplied by Michael Angelo to Sebastiano del Piombo for his wall painting
in San Pietro in Montorio, follows the lines of the bas-relief of the same
subject on the pulpit. What is more likely than that Bertoldo should have
educated his great pupil by directing him to the glories of the last work
of his master, Donatello, and that Michael Angelo should have studied them
eagerly, particularly if Bertoldo himself was partly responsible for some
of the panels, and may have been working upon them at this time.(63)
The pulpits of San Lorenzo were the second school of Michael Angelo, and
Bertoldo was his master. No great style ever sprang complete from the
brain of its great exponent, but grew and developed from master to pupil
until its supreme exponent blazed it before the world full of the
traditional fire of his predecessors, but distinctly marked by his own
dominant personality. The root of the style of Michael Angelo may be seen
in the works of Donatello and in the pulpits of San Lorenzo. His study of
the antique,(64) modified by his love of grace, of high finish, and his
own powerful character, only had to be added to complete the perfect
flower of Florentine art, Michael Angelo, the topmost bloom of the lily.
[Image #2]
THE RAPE OF DEIANEIRA AND THE BATTLE OF THE CENTAURS
CASA BUONARROTI, FLORENCE
(_By permission of the Fratelli Alinari. Florence_)
By good fortune, Michael Angelo attracted the notice of Lorenzo the
Magnificent, as Condivi has related;(65) and thus at the age of fifteen
years he entered the most cultured house in Italy and there acquired that
distinction of style that he kept all through his life, both in his art
and his manner. In these halcyon days at this hospitable table Michael
Angelo met such men as Massilio Ficino, the interpreter of Plato; Pico
della Mirandola, the phoenix of erudition; Luigi Pulci and Angelo
Poliziano--the latter is supposed to have incited Michael Angelo to carve
the bas-relief(66) now in the Casa Buonarroti, called by Condivi "The rape
of Deianeira and the battle of the Centaurs." This is the earliest work
that we know from the master's hand to which we can give a date; it
already shows his double love for the Hellenistic and for the Tuscan
styles. The degree of relief is alto-rilievo, like those on the Roman
sarcophagi and the pulpits of the Pisani; in shape it is almost as high as
it is long; this unusual proportion is similar to some of the divisions of
the bronze reliefs in the Donatello pulpits at San Lorenzo. The struggling
figures, Centaurs, and Lapithae, already exhibit Michael Angelo's power
over rhythm of line in a crowded composition as in the later groups of
"Moses raising the Serpent in the Wilderness," and "The Last Judgment,"
both in the Sistine Chapel. The method is extraordinarily free for so
young a sculptor; he evidently thinks out his work as it proceeds; his
delight in the beauty of the male human form is shown in every figure.
Some critics have been unable to distinguish the figure of Deianeira, as
her form has been so little differentiated or emphasised by the master.
She is towards the left of the composition; a man holds her by the hair of
her head. The centre figures and the two at the lower corners remind us
forcibly of the pulpits of San Lorenzo.
[Image #3]
THE ANGEL AT THE SHRINE OF SAINT DOMINIC
BOLOGNA
(_By permission of the Fratelli Alinari, Florence_)
Vasari mentions another bas-relief executed at this period, a seated
Madonna with the Infant Jesus, in the manner of Donatello; the inferior
bas-relief, now in the Casa Buonarroti, is said to be this work. If the
club-shaped feet and thick hands of the Madonna are compared with the
beautiful long feet and graceful hands of the angel holding a candlestick,
at San Domenico, in Bologna, certainly by Michael Angelo, it cannot be
supposed that these two works were either executed or even designed by the
same artist. The pose of the Holy Child in the Madonna bas-relief has been
arranged by some one who has seen "The Day" on the tomb of Giuliano at San
Lorenzo; in the background are children on a stairway, somewhat in the
style of Donatello, but they are more like imitations of the later works
of Michael Angelo. The folds of the draperies are like the folds of some
silken material, whereas the folds of the robe of the angel at San
Domenico are large, like the folds of a blanket, a characteristic of all
the draperies designed by the master. This bas-relief, now in the Casa
Buonarroti, was presented to Cosimo de Medici, first Grand Duke of
Tuscany, by Michael Angelo's nephew Leonardo,(67) as a work by his uncle,
but we do not know that Leonardo was a good judge of his uncle's works,
and this bas-relief was supposed to have been executed more than fifty
years before its presentation; afterwards it came back into the possession
of the Buonarroti family, and was presented by them to the city of
Florence along with the house in Via Ghibellina.
Michael Angelo, like all young artists who have had the opportunity, drew
and studied in the Brancacci Chapel of the Church of the Carmine,
containing the frescoes of Masaccio and his followers; the result of these
studies may be seen in some of the compositions, and especially in the
draperies of the Sistine ceiling. There are two pen-drawings in Vienna
that show us the sort of work Michael Angelo did at this time: one
represents a kneeling figure, evidently from a picture by Pesellino; the
other, two standing figures, that might be after Ghirlandaio. The
draperies have been specially studied. Another pen-drawing, in the Louvre,
is a careful study from Giotto's fresco of the Resurrection of St. John in
the Cappella Peruzzi at Santa Croce.
A gloom was cast over all Italy by the death of Lorenzo de' Medici on
April 8, 1492. Michael Angelo lost his best friend and returned to his
father's house; here he worked upon a statue of Hercules that stood in the
Strozzi Palace until the siege of Florence in 1530, when Giovanni Battista
della Palla bought it and sent it into France as a present to the French
King. It is lost.
In the year 1495, whilst living with Aldovrandi at Bologna, as Condivi
tells us, Michael Angelo, for the sum of thirty ducats, completed the
drapery of a San Petronio, begun by Nicolo di Bari on the arca or shrine
of San Domenico, and carved the very beautiful and highly finished
statuette of an angel holding a candlestick, still to be seen there.(68)
When Michael Angelo returned to Florence a government had been established
by Savonarola. No doubt, like all the other citizens, the master listened
to the voice of the preacher, but we have no evidence that he was
particularly influenced by his teaching, though many of his biographers
would have us believe that Savonarola made him Protestant, Lutheran, or
what not, according to the sect of the biographer. Michael Angelo loved
the sermons of the eloquent Frate as works of art; no doubt, if the
prophets of the Sistine could speak, they would preach with the voice of
Savonarola.
Michael Angelo set to work and carved a San Giovannino for Lorenzo di Pier
Francesco, a cousin of the exiled Medici. The Berlin Museum acquired, in
1880, a marble statue of a young St. John, which had been placed in the
palace of the Counts Gualandi Rosselmini, at Pisa, in 1817, and was
rediscovered there in 1874. It is supposed to be this San Giovannino by
Michael Angelo, though it has nothing of the large quality of Michael
Angelo's work. Donatello has been suggested as the author, but it has
still less of the square planes and ascetic character of the great Donato.
It is a charming, almost a cloying statue. St. John seems to find his
honeycomb distinctly sweet.