MICHAEL ANGELO
MONUMENT OF LORENZO
Medici Chapel, Florence
MICHAEL ANGELO
“THE PIETA”
St. Peter’s, Rome
On January 25, 1503, a solemn conclave of artists resident in Florence met in the Opera del Duomo to decide where the great figure should be placed. Piero di Cosimo—readers of Romola will remember him—Cosimo Rosselli, Botticelli, then a man of sixty-six, Filippino Lippi, and Da Vinci were among those present. Francesco Monciatto, a wood-carver, began by advancing the proposition that the statue should be put up before the Duomo, the site proposed for the original work in fact. Cosimo Rosselli and Botticelli supported the proposal. Giuliano di San Gallo then suggested the Loggia dei Lanzi as an alternative on the ground that the marble had been softened by exposure and might not last. The “Second Herald” objected to this, fearing that ceremonies in the Loggia would be interfered with, and his remarks called Leonardi da Vinci to his feet. Finally Piero di Cosimo, a man of the soundest common sense in spite of his reputation for freakishness, with the aid of Salvestro, a jeweller, and Filippino Lippi, carried the proposal that the choice should be left to the sculptor himself on the ground that “he would know better how it should be.” Angelo’s decision was for the steps at the entrance of the Palazzo Vecchio. The curious may see it in position in the portrait of Francesco Ferruccio, the Florentine general, in which Cosimo used the square in front of the Palace as a background. The work is numbered 895 in the National Gallery collection.
But let us return for a moment to the Court of Lorenzo de Medici and its galaxy of scholars and artists. The creed of the Court of the Magnificent is summed up for ever in the great right hand of the “[David].” The sculptor purposely emphasized its size. Michael Angelo desired to lay stress upon the part which the boy took in the struggle rather than to portray him as a mere instrument. To have been at one with the spirit of the biblical narrative, the weakness of the human agent would have been emphasized—as it was, indeed, in the “[David]” of Donatello. But the right hand of Angelo’s “[David]” stands for a new view—the Greek view—of the part mankind must play in the world. Human endeavour, rather than divine interference, is now to perfect man. By his own effort, by the exercise of his own free will, man is to work out his end.