Lives of the Artists
Page 39
What can I say of the four scenes in the corner-spandrels of the ceiling? In one of them, exerting all his boyish strength, there is David cutting off the head of Goliath, while some soldiers in the background look on in amazement. Just as astonishing are the beautiful attitudes of the figures in the scene at the corner opposite, where Michelangelo depicted the headless, writhing body of Holofernes and Judith placing the head on a shallow basket resting on the head of her serving-woman. This old woman is so tall that she has to stoop to allow her mistress to balance it properly; and using her hands to help support the burden and to cover it up, she turns her face towards the trunk of Holofernes which, though lifeless, draws up an arm and a leg and disturbs the silence inside the tent. This disturbance causes her terror and alarm, which are clearly seen in her expression. Altogether this is a picture composed with marvellous thought and care.
Even more beautiful and inspired than that and the other scenes is the story of the serpents of Moses, over the left-hand side of the altar. For here one sees the deadly havoc wrought by the rain of serpents as they bite and sting, and the brazen serpent itself that Moses placed upon a pole. Michelangelo vividly depicted the various deaths suffered by those who are doomed by the serpents’bites. The deadly poison is causing the death of countless men and women in terror and convulsion, not to mention the rigid legs and twisted arms of those who remain just as they were struck down, unable to move, and then again the beautifully executed heads shown shrieking and thrown back in despair. No less marvellously portrayed than the rest are those who keep their eyes fixed with heart-felt emotion on the serpent, the sight of which has already lessened their grief; among them is a woman who has been bitten and reduced to terror and who now in her great and obvious need is supported by another figure offering clear and welcome assistance.
There are more beautiful figures in the next scene, which shows Ahasuerus lying in bed and reading his chronicles. Thus, there are three men eating at a table, representing the council that was held to deliver the Jewish people and order the hanging of Haman. Haman himself was depicted in an extraordinary example of foreshortening, for Michelangelo painted the trunk that supports his person and the arm thrust forward so that they seem in living relief, the same effect being seen in the leg that Haman stretches out and the other parts of the body that bend inwards. Of all the beautiful and difficult figures executed by Michelangelo this is certainly the most beautiful and the most difficult. It would take too long to describe the various wonderful gestures and poses that he employed to illustrate the story of the Ancestors of Christ, showing the genealogy of all the Fathers beginning with the sons of Noah. And it is impossible to describe adequately all the many features of the figures in this section of Michelangelo’s work: the draperies, the expressions of the heads, and the innumerable original and extraordinary fancies, all most brilliantly conceived. Every detail reflects Michelangelo’s genius; all the figures are skilfully and beautifully foreshortened; and every single feature is manifestly inspired and beyond praise.
Then who is not filled with admiration and amazement at the awesome sight of Jonah, the last figure in the chapel? The vaulting naturally springs forward, following the curve of the masonry; but through the force of art it is apparently straightened out by the figure of Jonah, which bends in the opposite direction; and thus vanquished by the art of design, with its lights and shades, the ceiling even appears to recede.
What a happy age we live in! And how fortunate are our craftsmen, who have been given light and vision by Michelangelo and whose difficulties have been smoothed away by this marvellous and incomparable artist! The glory of his achievements has won them honour and renown; he has stripped away the bandage that kept their minds in darkness and shown them how to distinguish the truth from the falsehoods that clouded their understanding. You artists should thank heaven for what has happened and strive to imitate Michelangelo in everything you do.
When the work was thrown open, the whole world came running to see what Michelangelo had done; and certainly it was such as to make everyone speechless with astonishment. Then the Pope, exalted by the results and encouraged to undertake even more grandiose enterprises, generously rewarded Michelangelo with rich gifts and money. Michelangelo used to say of the extraordinary favours he was shown that they proved that his holiness fully recognized his abilities; and if sometimes, arising out of their intimacy, the Pope did him some hurt, he would heal it with extraordinary gifts and favours. There was an instance of this when Michelangelo once asked the Pope’s permission to go to Florence for the feast day of St John and wanted some money from him for the purpose, and the Pope said:
‘Well, what about this chapel? When will it be finished?’
‘When I can, Holy Father,’said Michelangelo.
Then the Pope struck Michelangelo with a staff he was holding and repeated:
‘When I can! When I can! What do you mean? I will soon make you finish it.’
However, after Michelangelo had gone back to his house to prepare for the journey to Florence, the Pope immediately sent his chamberlain, Cursio, with five hundred crowns to calm him down, as he was afraid that he would react in his usual unpredictable way; and the chamberlain made excuses for his holiness, explaining that such treatment was meant as a favour and a mark of affection. Then Michelangelo, because he understood the Pope’s nature and, after all, loved him dearly, laughed it off, seeing that everything redounded to his profit and advantage and that the Pope would do anything to keep his friendship.
After the chapel had been finished, before the Pope was overtaken by death, his holiness commanded Cardinal Santiquattro and Cardinal Aginense, his nephew, that in the event of his death they should ensure that his tomb was finished, but on a smaller scale than first planned. So Michelangelo began work on the tomb once more, very eagerly, hoping to have done with it once for all without being hindered as much as before. (But for the rest of his life it was to bring him endless vexations and annoyances and drudgery, more than anything else he ever did; and for a long time it earned him the reputation of being ungrateful to the Pope who had loved and favoured him so much.) So Michelangelo returned to the tomb and worked there continuously; and he also found time to prepare designs for the façades of the chapel. But envious fortune decreed that this memorial, which had got off to such a good start, should never be finished. For at that time Pope Julius died and the work was abandoned because of the election of Pope Leo X. Being no less grandiose than Julius in mind and spirit, Leo determined to leave in his native city (from which he was the first Pope), to commemorate both himself and his inspired fellow-citizen Michelangelo, such marvels as only a great ruler, as he was, could undertake.1
Thus he gave orders for the completion of the façade of San Lorenzo, the family church of the Medici; and this was why the tomb of Pope Julius remained unfinished, for Leo asked Michelangelo to give advice and plans and to be in charge of the project. Michelangelo resisted as firmly as he could, protesting that he was under an obligation to Santiquattro and Aginense to work on the tomb. But the Pope replied that he should forget about that as he had already taken care of it and arranged for them to release him, and he also promised that while he was in Florence Michelangelo would be able to work on the figures for the tomb, as he had already started to do. These suggestions greatly upset both the cardinals and Michelangelo, who went off in tears.
Then there followed endless discussions and arguments about the façade, on the grounds that a project of that kind should be made the responsibility of several artists; and in connexion with the architecture many craftsmen flocked to Rome to see the Pope, and designs were made by Baccio d’Agnolo, Antonio da Sangallo, Andrea and Jacopo Sansovino, and the gracious Raphael of Urbino, who was afterwards called to Florence for that purpose at the time of the Pope’s visit. Thereupon, Michelangelo decided to make a model and not to accept anyone else as his guide or supervisor in the architecture of the façade. But because he refused any assistance in the
event neither he nor anyone else carried out the work; and in despair the craftsmen went back to attend to their own affairs. Michelangelo, who was going to Carrara, had an order authorizing Jacopo Salviati to pay him a thousand crowns. However, when he arrived, finding Jacopo transacting business in his room with some other citizens, he refused to wait for an interview, left without saying a word, and made his way to Carrara. Meanwhile, having heard of Michelangelo’s arrival but not finding him in Florence, Jacopo sent him the thousand crowns to Carrara. The courier demanded a receipt for the money, only to be told by Michelangelo that it was for the expenses of the Pope and no business of his, that he was not in the habit of writing out receipts or acknowledgements on behalf of other people, and that he could take the money back; and so in a panic the courier went back to Jacopo without a receipt. While Michelangelo was at Carrara and, thinking that he would finish it, was having marbles quarried for the tomb as well as for the façade, word came to him that Pope Leo had heard that in the mountains of Pietrasanta near Seravezza, in Florentine territory, at the top of the highest mountain, Monte Altissimo, there were marbles of the same beauty and quality as those of Carrara. Michelangelo already knew this, but it seems that he was reluctant to do anything about it since he was friendly with the Marquis Alberigo, lord of Carrara, and for his sake preferred to use marble quarried at Carrara rather than Seravezza; or else it was because he thought it would be a long drawn-out business and he would waste a lot of time on it, as did in fact happen. Anyhow, he was compelled to go to Seravezza, although he argued in opposition to the idea that it would be less convenient and more costly (as, especially at the beginning, proved to be the case) and, moreover, that perhaps the reports about the marble were mistaken. All the same the Pope refused to listen to a word. And then it became necessary to build a road several miles long through the mountains, breaking up rocks with hammers and pick-axes to obtain a level, and sinking piles in the marshy areas. Michelangelo thus spent several years carrying out the Pope’s orders, and finally he excavated five columns of the size required, one of which is on the Piazza di San Lorenzo at Florence, while the others are on the seashore. And this was why the Marquis Alberigo, who saw his business ruined, subsequently became a bitter enemy of Michelangelo, although Michelangelo was in no way to blame for what happened.
As well as these columns Michelangelo excavated many other marbles – which are still in the quarries, where they have been abandoned for over thirty years. However, Duke Cosimo has now given orders for the completion of the road, of which there are two miles still to be built over difficult ground, for transporting these marbles. He has arranged as well for the construction of another road from a new quarry of excellent marble discovered by Michelangelo, so that many fine projects may be finished. In Seravezza, Michelangelo also discovered a hill of very hard and beautiful mixed stone near Stazzema, a village in the mountains; and Duke Cosimo has had built a paved road over four miles long to transport it to the sea.
To go back to Michelangelo’s own life: from Carrara he returned to Florence where he wasted a great deal of time now on one thing and now on another. Then for the Medici Palace he made a model for the windows with supporting volutes that belong to the apartments at the corner. Giovanni da Udine decorated the room in stucco and painting, with results that are greatly admired; and Michelangelo gave the goldsmith Piloto instructions to make the shutters of perforated copper, which are certainly very impressive.
Michelangelo devoted many years of his life to quarrying marble, although it is true that while the blocks were being excavated he also made wax models and other things for the façade. But the project was delayed so long that the money the Pope assigned to it was spent on the war in Lombardy, and when Leo died the work was left unfinished, nothing having been accomplished save the laying of a foundation in front to support the façade and the transportation of a large column of marble from Carrara to the Piazza di San Lorenzo.
The death of Leo was a fearful blow to the arts and those who practised them, both in Florence and Rome; and while Adrian VI was Pope, Michelangelo stayed in Florence giving his attention to the tomb of Julius. Then Adrian died and was succeeded by Clement VII, who was no less anxious than Leo and his other predecessors to leave a name glorified by the arts of architecture, sculpture, and painting. It was at that time, in 1525, that Giorgio Vasari was taken as a young boy to Florence by the cardinal of Cortona and placed with Michelangelo as an apprentice. However, Michelangelo was called to Rome by Pope Clement, who was ready to have a start made on the library of San Lorenzo and the new sacristy, in which he intended to place the marble tombs he was having built for his ancestors. Before leaving, Michelangelo decided that Vasari should go to work with Andrea del Sarto until he was free again himself, and in person he took Vasari along to Andrea’s workshop to introduce him.
He then left for Rome in a hurry, harassed once again by Francesco Maria, duke of Urbino, the nephew of Pope Julius, who complained that Michelangelo had received sixteen thousand crowns for the tomb and yet stayed in Florence amusing himself, and who threatened him angrily that if he did not attend to the work he would make him regret it. After Michelangelo had arrived in Rome, Pope Clement, who wanted to make use of his services, advised him to settle his account with the duke’s agents, for the Pope believed that in view of all he had done Michelangelo was a creditor rather than a debtor; and that was how matters were left. After the Pope and Michelangelo had discussed many things together, they resolved to finish completely the sacristy and the new library of San Lorenzo at Florence.
So Michelangelo again left Rome and raised the cupola of the sacristy as we see it today. He designed it in a composite style and asked the goldsmith Piloto to make for it a very beautiful ball with seventy-two facets. It happened that while the cupola was being raised Michelangelo was asked by some of his friends:
‘Shouldn’t you make your lantern very different from that of Filippo Brunelleschi?’
‘Certainly I can make it different,’ he replied, ‘but not better.’1
Michelangelo made in the sacristy four tombs to hold the bodies of the fathers of the two Popes: namely, the elder Lorenzo and his brother Giuliano, and those of Giuliano, the brother of Leo, and of Duke Lorenzo, Leo’s nephew. He wanted to execute the work in imitation of the old sacristy made by Filippo Brunelleschi but with different decorative features; and so he did the ornamentation in a composite order, in a style more varied and more original than any other master, ancient or modern, has ever been able to achieve. For the beautiful cornices, capitals, bases, doors, tabernacles, and tombs were extremely novel, and in them he departed a great deal from the kind of architecture regulated by proportion, order, and rule which other artists did according to common usage and following Vitruvius and the works of antiquity but from which Michelangelo wanted to break away.1
The licence he allowed himself has served as a great encouragement to others to follow his example; and subsequently we have seen the creation of new kinds of fantastic ornamentation containing more of the grotesque than of rule or reason. Thus all artists are under a great and permanent obligation to Michelangelo, seeing that he broke the bonds and chains that had previously confined them to the creation of traditional forms.
Later Michelangelo sought to make known and to demonstrate his new ideas to even better effect in the library of San Lorenzo: namely, in the beautiful distribution of the windows, the pattern of the ceiling, and the marvellous entrance of the vestibule. Nor was there ever seen such resolute grace, both in detail and overall effect, as in the consoles, tabernacles, and cornices, nor any stairway more commodious. And in this stairway, he made such strange breaks in the design of the steps, and he departed in so many details and so widely from normal practice, that everyone was astonished.
It was at that time that Michelangelo sent his assistant, Pietro Urbino of Pistoia, to Rome to carry to completion a very fine figure of the naked Christ bearing the cross, which was placed on behalf of Antonio
Metelli beside the principal chapel of Santa Maria sopra Minerva. Soon afterwards there took place the sack of Rome and the expulsion of the Medici from Florence; and with the change of government it was decided to rebuild the city’s fortifications and to appoint Michelangelo as Commissary General in charge of the work. Thereupon he drew up plans and had fortifications built for several parts of the city; and finally, he encircled the hill of San Miniato with bastions. These he made not with the usual sods of earth, wood, and bundles of brushwood but with a strong, interwoven base of chestnut, oak, and other strong materials and (in place of the sods) unbaked bricks of tow and dung which were squared very carefully. Subsequently the Signoria of Florence sent him to Ferrara to inspect the fortifications of Duke Alfonso I and his artillery and munitions. The duke treated him very courteously and begged him, at his leisure, to make something for him with his own hand, and Michelangelo readily agreed to do so. Then, returning to Florence, he worked continuously on the fortification. Yet despite this distraction he secretly spent time working for the duke on a picture of Leda, which he painted with his own hand in tempera (an inspired work, as I shall describe later) and on the statues for the tombs of San Lorenzo. At this time Michelangelo also spent six months or so at San Miniato in order to hurry on the fortification of the hill, because if the enemy captured this point, the city was lost. All these enterprises he pursued with the utmost diligence. Meanwhile, he continued the work in the sacristy of San Lorenzo, in which there were seven statues which were left partly finished and partly not. Taking these and the architectural inventions of the tombs into account, it must be confessed that he surpassed all others in practice of the three arts. To be sure, the marble statues to be seen in San Lorenzo, which he blocked out or finished, provide convincing evidence for this claim. Among them is the figure of Our Lady, seated with her right leg crossed over the left and one knee placed on the other, while the child, with his thighs astride the leg that is uppermost, turns in a most enchanting attitude, looking for his mother’s milk; and Our Lady, holding him with one hand and supporting herself with the other, leans forward to give it to him. Although this statue remained unfinished, having been roughed out and left showing the marks of the chisel, in the imperfect block one can recognize the perfection of the completed work. Michelangelo’s ideas for the tombs of Duke Giuliano and Duke Lorenzo de’Medici caused even more astonished admiration. For here he decided that Earth alone did not suffice to give them an honourable burial worthy of their greatness but that they should be accompanied by all the parts of the world; and he resolved that their sepulchres should have around and above them four statues. So to one tomb he gave Night and Day, and to the other Dawn and Evening; and these statues are so beautifully formed, their attitudes so lovely, and their muscles treated so skilfully, that if the art of sculpture were lost they would serve to restore to it its original lustre.