It is difficult to grasp all the sublime significance of Michelangelo's works, even when we find ourselves face to face with the actual masterpieces, such as the frescoes of the Sistine Chapel or the beautiful statues which adorn the Medicean tombs.
To attempt an accurate description of his principal works within the narrow limits at our disposal would be indeed a hopeless task, especially as the size of these pictures will only allow of their conveying a somewhat remote idea of the grandeur and awe-inspiring dignity which are the principal characteristics of Michelangelo's art.
In selecting the following eight illustrations, we have endeavoured not only to give an idea of Michelangelo's gradual artistic development, but also to throw some light on his powerful and most interesting personality. Although the Portrait now in the Capitol Museum is in many respects inferior to the one in the Uffizi, and has even fewer claims to the honour of being regarded as by the master's own hand, we have selected it because it tallies perfectly with the descriptions which Michelangelo's contemporaries, and more especially Condivi and Vasari, have left us of the master's rugged and expressive features. There is an aspect of profound melancholy, almost of discouragement, in the wan face, disfigured by the flattened nose; the eyes are sunk deep under the massive and somewhat slanting brow, and the whole picture has an indescribably mournful, hopeless expression. It was probably painted when Michelangelo was about fifty-five years of age, and the tragedy of the tomb was causing him bitter grief and disappointment. In the Uffizi portrait the most interesting feature is the hand, strangely resembling an eagle's talon and immediately giving the impression of strong individuality and creative power, which were Michelangelo's most striking characteristics.
It has been rightly observed that nothing closes the fifteenth century so fitly as the magnificent marble group of The Pietà , which, although carved by Michelangelo in 1498, already prophesied the power of sixteenth-century art. Numerous other artists had already been attracted by the pathetic theme of the Virgin Mother mourning over her dead Son, their principal aim, however, being almost invariably to convey as forcibly as possible to the beholder the grief and despair of the bereaved Mother. With characteristic originality Michelangelo departed from the traditional manner, successfully endeavouring to give the theme a simpler but far more dignified and lofty interpretation. The Madonna is seated on the stone upon which the Cross is erected, with her dead Son on her lap. Her beautiful face is not contracted with grief, but wears an expression of sublime peace and resignation, and the graceful head reclines slightly on her right shoulder, as if pitying Heaven had sent sleep to temper the extremity of her grief, and sweet dreams of the past, when the Virgin Mother fondled her Infant Son, had mercifully cancelled the horrible vision of the Redeemer's lifeless body now lying on her lap.
Michelangelo's contemporaries criticised the figure of the Madonna, remarking that the Mother is far too young compared with the Son. "One day," writes Condivi, "as I was talking to Michelangelo of this objection, 'Do you not know,' he said, 'that chaste women retain their fresh looks much longer than those who are not chaste? 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. 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.'" This grave theological statement gives us an interesting insight into Michelangelo's pious and meditative character, showing how earnestly he took his art and how reverently he thought out every detail, especially when interpreting some religious theme.
The figure of the dead Redeemer is, if possible, even more admirable than that of the Mother. "He is of so great and so rare a beauty," exclaims Condivi, "that no one beholds it but is moved to pity. A figure truly worthy of the humanity which belonged to the Son of God." No other sculptor has ever succeeded in giving marble the absolute abandon of death quite so pathetically as Michelangelo has done in this Dead Christ. Here it was that his profound knowledge of anatomy, and the long hours spent over the dissecting table at Santo Spirito, first stood him in good stead. In the Albertina Gallery at Vienna there is a magnificent study of a subject placed in almost exactly the same position as the Dead Christ, which the sculptor evidently transferred to The Pietà , if indeed he did not make the sketch expressly for this group. Although Michelangelo always professed to be a sculptor and nothing else, he shows all a true painter's sensitive appreciation of light and shade in this work, having so arranged the graceful, but somewhat complicated folds of the Madonna's draperies, as to form a comparatively dark background which enhances the whiteness of the lifeless body lying on her lap.
To students of Michelangelo's art this work is especially interesting as it shows the master equally free from the influence of his Florentine predecessors, and from that of the antique. Michelangelo was conscious of the merit and of the originality of this group, for it is the only one which he considered worthy of bearing his great name.
THE PIETÀ.