I saw the Statue of David earlier this year for the first time. As well as wanting to see one of the two most famous pieces of art of all time (perhaps second only to the Mona Lisa), I was also intrigued to see how I would feel upon seeing it in the (marble) flesh. Some images are so famous they are almost cliches by the time we actually get to see them, so I was fairly convinced that I would be underwhelmed.
I was wrong. Walking into the hall and seeing him up there on his pedestal, even from 50 feet away, was enough to give me goosebumps. Any images or copies of the statue don’t do it justice. Lit from above it’s like the personification of the ideal man. Not just in the way he looks - strong, fit, and handsome - but also in the posture, the way he holds himself, the posture, the confidence. It almost makes you want to be a better man to live up to Michelangelo’s ideal.
Mikey, wow, that's quite a way to put it. He really is perfect. I have an interesting little story about when I saw him. I arrived at the Academia early that day and was second in line after an Aussie couple. As a bit of background, I had never been there before and had no idea whatsoever how the Academia is laid out. But I knew where I was headed. I raced past The Rape of the Sabines -- because that's not stunning or famous -- and turned right into the hallway you describe. It was just me and David for about 4-5 minutes. I have never again been surrounded by such silence. When I returned to the States -- I had been studying in Germany -- I dove into art history, Vasari, and Michelangelo generally. It was there that I learned the story of how this holy piece of stone had been passed about, rejected, botched, and so forth. I always thought there was a lesson embedded in that story.
On a related note, I read a few years ago that scientists and art historians have used technology to assess the stress that such a large statue is placing on its various parts. It turns out that the lower calves and ankles are under a lot of stress, and they're working on figuring out how to remedy this.
Thank you so much for reading and for your comments and memories.
The great debate is whether the sculpture is finished. If not, OK. If so, did Michelangelo intend to leave St. Matthew to struggle to free himself from the stone. Either way, it's a great example of the reductionist nature of sculpture.
I’d never thought of St Matthew in that way. Love the idea that he was that it is finished, and he’s struggling to free himself. Let’s say that’s true because it’s the better story!
I felt this way, too. There were other human beings in the room when I was looking up at David, but they might as well have been on Mars. I was looking up at this thing all alone, just me and him.
“Some images are so famous they are almost cliches by the time we actually get to see them, so I was fairly convinced that I would be underwhelmed.” - that’s exactly how I felt about the Mona Lisa. Especially with everyone crowding around for a picture.
I haven’t seen the Mona Lisa in person yet, but I think I’ll be the exact same. I also just don’t think it’s that visually interesting a picture, so it’s only it’s fame that makes people excited about it
A great article, Ben. As with all your writing I have come back to this again and again over the last couple of days. With a son who is turning 16 this year, these are the same “truths” that I try to instil in him. Think for yourself, make your own mind up on things, look to the past but don’t be beholden to it and, above all, learn from our mistakes
Thanks very much for all your writing and thoughts over the last few months. They are a rare gift and much appreciated 👍🏼
Thought-provoking! It's a good practice to gain perspective by using a wide-angle lens, and even more intriguing to then figuratively pan the scene both temporally and philosophically, offering and leaving room for interpretation. Once again, you've packed so much into a tight piece!
Thanks for this, Ben. It's a bit more hopeful than I feel as I look toward a future with little time left to shape it. My worst fears feature a world run by fascists who have no interest in addressing climate change, and where the idealism and hope that the United States has always held as that City of Light is lost if the Trumpian Trojan horse gets passed our gates, as I wrote about here on Substack recently. A kind of elegiac poem about Once Upon a Time, eons hence, when what the US stands for today is but a lost Camelot. It's meant to inspire those who read it to do what's needed to keep that from happening. As yours is meant to do. I hope people are listening.
1. This is an excellent piece overall, like something I'd enjoy writing (but probably wouldn't bring home quite as succinctly as you did here).
2. What year do you envision someone reading this? I'm thinking 20 or 30 years will see roughly the same change to the world as between now and the Renaissance, give or take.
3. That's my 2nd favorite David statue. Donatello's is the best.
4. Still, I love this David, and I was fortunate enough to see it in person a few years ago (but I was more fortunate to see Donatello's during that same overall trip)
5. Michelangelo taught comic book artists how to draw superheroes. I salute him for that alone.
Thank you so much, I appreciate it. Your second question is right on the money. I actually envision people reading the essay **today**. The lesson is evergreen. In that respect, maybe I choose a more fitting title. Something like "What Michelangelo can teach you about changing the world". Donatello's is genius, although I'm going to stick with Michelangelo. What about Donatello's do you prefer? It's great that you were able to see it in person. Michelangelo sketches are stunning, often a fury of activity as beautiful as the final piece of art. His figures, his use of foreshortening, I can imagine how they inspired comic book artists.
Michelangelo's David is fantastic, one of the truly great works of art of all time. It belongs in the same category as Guernica (my favorite Picasso work), or maybe the Taj Mahal or Van Gogh's Starry Night. It's legendary and belongs alongside ONLY legendary works of art.
Donatello's, on the other hand, is like the greatest middle finger to the establishment ever. To be really clear, I'm talking about the bronze David here. It was the first nude male statue made in a thousand years. It is a "punk rock" statue if ever there was one.
It's also controversial, and complicated, and problematic, like all great works I seem to be drawn to. There are some technical things that are impressive, too, like this being the first freestanding bronze statue (don't quote me on this part) maybe ever.
Seeing the statue in person also shook me a little. I wasn't sure I liked it so much until it was right there in front of me, and I was like, "holy crap, I get it."
I would be curious to know what you think of that title (not yet tight) or perhaps another one. Because "future generations" is wrong. Everyone should know that lesson today. It's an important one with a fun history. (Note that I did not say that everyone should receive this piece!).
I saw the Statue of David earlier this year for the first time. As well as wanting to see one of the two most famous pieces of art of all time (perhaps second only to the Mona Lisa), I was also intrigued to see how I would feel upon seeing it in the (marble) flesh. Some images are so famous they are almost cliches by the time we actually get to see them, so I was fairly convinced that I would be underwhelmed.
I was wrong. Walking into the hall and seeing him up there on his pedestal, even from 50 feet away, was enough to give me goosebumps. Any images or copies of the statue don’t do it justice. Lit from above it’s like the personification of the ideal man. Not just in the way he looks - strong, fit, and handsome - but also in the posture, the way he holds himself, the posture, the confidence. It almost makes you want to be a better man to live up to Michelangelo’s ideal.
Mikey, wow, that's quite a way to put it. He really is perfect. I have an interesting little story about when I saw him. I arrived at the Academia early that day and was second in line after an Aussie couple. As a bit of background, I had never been there before and had no idea whatsoever how the Academia is laid out. But I knew where I was headed. I raced past The Rape of the Sabines -- because that's not stunning or famous -- and turned right into the hallway you describe. It was just me and David for about 4-5 minutes. I have never again been surrounded by such silence. When I returned to the States -- I had been studying in Germany -- I dove into art history, Vasari, and Michelangelo generally. It was there that I learned the story of how this holy piece of stone had been passed about, rejected, botched, and so forth. I always thought there was a lesson embedded in that story.
On a related note, I read a few years ago that scientists and art historians have used technology to assess the stress that such a large statue is placing on its various parts. It turns out that the lower calves and ankles are under a lot of stress, and they're working on figuring out how to remedy this.
Thank you so much for reading and for your comments and memories.
Wow to be alone with him, even for five minutes. Must have been enough to weep
It most certainly was.
I didn't realize it at the time because I hadn't studied it, but my favorite sculpture of all, Michelangelo's St. Matthew, is also in that hallway.
https://flashpackingitaly.com/michelangelo-sculptures-in-florence/ (scroll down a bit)
The great debate is whether the sculpture is finished. If not, OK. If so, did Michelangelo intend to leave St. Matthew to struggle to free himself from the stone. Either way, it's a great example of the reductionist nature of sculpture.
I’d never thought of St Matthew in that way. Love the idea that he was that it is finished, and he’s struggling to free himself. Let’s say that’s true because it’s the better story!
Agreed. Michelangelo didn't finish a lot of things, but his beloved sculptures weren't high on the list. And it's definitely the better story.
I felt this way, too. There were other human beings in the room when I was looking up at David, but they might as well have been on Mars. I was looking up at this thing all alone, just me and him.
Totally agree. Just how it felt to see that marvel in the "flesh".
“Some images are so famous they are almost cliches by the time we actually get to see them, so I was fairly convinced that I would be underwhelmed.” - that’s exactly how I felt about the Mona Lisa. Especially with everyone crowding around for a picture.
I haven’t seen the Mona Lisa in person yet, but I think I’ll be the exact same. I also just don’t think it’s that visually interesting a picture, so it’s only it’s fame that makes people excited about it
Kate, Thank you so much for your kind words. They mean a great deal to me. Ben
A great article, Ben. As with all your writing I have come back to this again and again over the last couple of days. With a son who is turning 16 this year, these are the same “truths” that I try to instil in him. Think for yourself, make your own mind up on things, look to the past but don’t be beholden to it and, above all, learn from our mistakes
Thanks very much for all your writing and thoughts over the last few months. They are a rare gift and much appreciated 👍🏼
Thought-provoking! It's a good practice to gain perspective by using a wide-angle lens, and even more intriguing to then figuratively pan the scene both temporally and philosophically, offering and leaving room for interpretation. Once again, you've packed so much into a tight piece!
Thanks for this, Ben. It's a bit more hopeful than I feel as I look toward a future with little time left to shape it. My worst fears feature a world run by fascists who have no interest in addressing climate change, and where the idealism and hope that the United States has always held as that City of Light is lost if the Trumpian Trojan horse gets passed our gates, as I wrote about here on Substack recently. A kind of elegiac poem about Once Upon a Time, eons hence, when what the US stands for today is but a lost Camelot. It's meant to inspire those who read it to do what's needed to keep that from happening. As yours is meant to do. I hope people are listening.
Deborah, thank you so much for reading and your kind words. I will definitely check out your piece.
Thanks, Ben. I appreciate that. It's a piece that means a lot to me.
1. This is an excellent piece overall, like something I'd enjoy writing (but probably wouldn't bring home quite as succinctly as you did here).
2. What year do you envision someone reading this? I'm thinking 20 or 30 years will see roughly the same change to the world as between now and the Renaissance, give or take.
3. That's my 2nd favorite David statue. Donatello's is the best.
4. Still, I love this David, and I was fortunate enough to see it in person a few years ago (but I was more fortunate to see Donatello's during that same overall trip)
5. Michelangelo taught comic book artists how to draw superheroes. I salute him for that alone.
Thank you so much, I appreciate it. Your second question is right on the money. I actually envision people reading the essay **today**. The lesson is evergreen. In that respect, maybe I choose a more fitting title. Something like "What Michelangelo can teach you about changing the world". Donatello's is genius, although I'm going to stick with Michelangelo. What about Donatello's do you prefer? It's great that you were able to see it in person. Michelangelo sketches are stunning, often a fury of activity as beautiful as the final piece of art. His figures, his use of foreshortening, I can imagine how they inspired comic book artists.
Michelangelo's David is fantastic, one of the truly great works of art of all time. It belongs in the same category as Guernica (my favorite Picasso work), or maybe the Taj Mahal or Van Gogh's Starry Night. It's legendary and belongs alongside ONLY legendary works of art.
Donatello's, on the other hand, is like the greatest middle finger to the establishment ever. To be really clear, I'm talking about the bronze David here. It was the first nude male statue made in a thousand years. It is a "punk rock" statue if ever there was one.
It's also controversial, and complicated, and problematic, like all great works I seem to be drawn to. There are some technical things that are impressive, too, like this being the first freestanding bronze statue (don't quote me on this part) maybe ever.
The style is incredible.
This means I have to do some research so that I can share your passion for something I don't know about.
Seeing the statue in person also shook me a little. I wasn't sure I liked it so much until it was right there in front of me, and I was like, "holy crap, I get it."
I would be curious to know what you think of that title (not yet tight) or perhaps another one. Because "future generations" is wrong. Everyone should know that lesson today. It's an important one with a fun history. (Note that I did not say that everyone should receive this piece!).