The Renaissance began with sculpture, when artists rediscovered the beauty of ancient statues. You can see the birth of this revolution in the Bargello – the best collection anywhere of Florentine sculpture.
The Bargello is a small, uncrowded place – a nice break from the intensity of Florence.
The Bargello, built in 1255, was Florence’s original city hall. In fact, from the outside, the Bargello actually looks like a mini-Palazzo Vecchio. It also functioned as the police station – or “bargello.” Look at the stone walls – the heavy fortification makes it clear that keeping the peace in medieval Florence had its occupational hazards.
Sculpture is a much more robust art form than painting. Think of the engineering challenges alone. First, you have to quarry and cut the stone. Then transport the 4-ton block to the artist’s studio. Then all the hours of chiseling away chips. That’s followed by the painstaking process of sanding the final product by hand.
Here a viewing tip from Rick Steves. Every statue has an invisible “frame” around it. That’s the rectangular shape of the stone block it was cut from. Visualizing this frame helps you find the center of the statue’s composition.
Sculpture was the perfect medium to express the Renaissance spirit of humanism. A statue shows the human form, standing alone, independent of church, state, or society, ready to fulfil its potential.
Think of Michelangelo’s approach to sculpting: He wasn’t creating a figure – he was liberating it from the rock that surrounded it.
Let’s take a look around…
Bacchus – Michelangelo – Bacchus, the Greek god of wine, raises another cup to his lips. Salute! – cheers. Bacchus is completely naked… as an ancient pagan god should be. 🙂
He has the traditional grapes in his hair. His pose is classic contrapposto – with his weight on one foot and slightly raising the other. At Bacchus’ feet is an impish satyr, a mythological creature with goat legs. He lovingly embraces his beloved grapes, and takes a bite. This satyr has been called the first twisting, serpentine figure since ancient times.
When Michelangelo did this statue, Italy was in the grip of the Renaissance. They were infatuated with ancient gods, ancient statues, and the pagan spirit.
But this statue of Bacchus takes that rowdy pagan spirit to an almost ridiculous extreme. This god of wine looks a bit… un po’ brillo.. a bit tipsy. His eyes are glazing over. He’s starting to tip backwards. He’s definitely not steady on his feet.
He’s even got a bulging beer belly. Face it. Bacchus is downright drunk – ubriaco, as the Italians would say.
This statue was sculpted around 1496, when Michelangelo was only 21. It was his first major commission.
If 1496 rings a bell.. it was about the same time that Florence was dominated by Savonarola – who we met in my last review. 🙂
Savonarola, the fire-and-brimstone-preaching monk, had taken control of the city and driven out the Medici. Savonarola hated Renaissance art. He couldn’t handle fleshy nudes, and anything that celebrated the pleasures of the senses. Young Michelangelo fled to Rome. There, he kept the free spirit of the Renaissance alive. In fact, this Bacchus seems almost like the anti-Savonarola – young Michelangelo’s way saying to Savonarola, “F’ you.”
As you look at Bacchus, it was fun to mentally compare this statue with Michelangelo’s more famous statue of David. Where David is sturdy, balanced and noble, Bacchus is just the opposite. Bacchus is raucous.
He has a gaping mouth and stupid eyes. His flesh sags and his bulging stomach is bigger than his pea-brained head.
Frankly, Bacchus was not a success with the man who commissioned it. He wanted something more classically… classical. But that’s the beauty of Michelangelo – always taking risks, pushing the envelope, exploring new styles.
Circular Relief – The Pitti Tondo (also known as “Madonna and Child with the Young St. John) – Michelangelo – This round marble relief shows a simple family scene. The Virgin Mary sits trying to read a book. But Baby Jesus, with an impish smile on his face, leans in and tries to get his mom’s attention by blocking her view. To the left of Mary, in the hazy background, is Jesus’ cousin, little Johnny the Baptist. This work was done for the wealthy Pitti family, who built the palace that stands today across the Arno River.
This was sculpted just a few years after Bacchus. Savonarola had been toppled from power, and Michelangelo had returned to Florence. The twenty-something sculptor was at the peak of his powers, with the commissions just pouring in. First, Florence hired him to build the monumental statue of David. Then, in a complete change of pace, Michelangelo turned to his next project: this quiet, small-scale relief.
The round format is called a tondo. In the early 1500s, circular paintings and reliefs like this were very trendy. Working within the ready-made circular frame, Michelangelo created an interesting composition. The Madonna sits perfectly upright, perfectly vertical. Meanwhile, her forearms and thighs go almost perfectly horizontal. Jesus curves lovingly around his mom, echoing the round frame. It all reinforces the idea of a mother and child enfolded in a warm circle of family love.
Michelangelo then adds the third dimension – depth. You see it in the bench Mary is sitting on, that juts outward. Also, her face rises out of the stone, like a cameo. Finally, Michelangelo added something new to the standard tondo format: Notice how Mary’s head actually pops out from the top of the frame, so it’s not too confining.
The tondo is obviously unfinished. Like John the Baptist – he’s only sketched out. And with Jesus, his feet are still mired in the marble. And on the left and right, you can still see the patches of rough chisel marks that haven’t been smoothed out yet. Mary’s blouse looks half-finished, half-not.
Notice his distinctive cross-hatch technique – some chisel marks go one way, some the other. It was yet to be polished.
But you can see some fine details starting to emerge. Like Mary’s headband, which has a tiny image of a face.
This was from the final stage, which was polishing. Many sculptors left that grunt work to their assistants. But notice that, even though it’s only half-finished, Michelangelo has already begun polishing the most important element of this entire work – the smooth face of Mary, the mother of Christ.
Bust of Brutus – Michelangelo – This bust of a man is so ugly it’s beautiful. His features are not classically handsome. He turns to the side, suspiciously. And he’s certainly intense – an intensity that’s compelling. His furrowed brow says he’ll succeed against all odds. It’s a dignified and heroic quality that might be missing if he were pretty.
The subject is Brutus, the Roman who assassinated Julius Caesar.
Remember, Brutus was conflicted. On the one hand, Caesar was his friend and mentor. On the other, Caesar had become a dictator and had to go.
Michelangelo shows both sides of this political assassin. First, focus on the right side of Brutus’ face -the view from the front. From this angle, Brutus looks more heroic. He gazes strongly towards the horizon, looking like a man who will do anything for his country. Now if you check out the other side – by stepping a bit to the right – yo u see a drooping mouth and squinting eye. It makes him look more cunning… sneering… ominous. The kind of man who could murder a close friend with a knife.
I didn’t take a good picture of this myself… but grabbed this one from Wikipedia.
When Michelangelo was sculpting this, around 1540, he was also conflicted. Florence had come under the thumb of a Medici tyrant. Michelangelo could feel Brutus’ moral dilemma. On the one hand, he was loyal to the Medici, his adopted family. But he also resented what they’d become, and lamented the loss of Florentine democracy under the Medici rule.
The result is a statue that captures the complexity of a good man trying to make his way in difficult times.
David (Also Known as Apollo) – Michelangelo – This naked man is shown twisting and reaching back with his left arm. No one is sure whether it’s supposed to be David (reaching for his sling) or Apollo (reaching for an arrow).. The statue is smaller than life-size and rather demure. He’s a far cry from Michelangelo’s more famous, larger-than-life David. This statue is also unfinished – check out David’s upper back.
My thanks for Daydream Tourist for borrowing his photo.
This was Michelangelo at the time of his death, at age 89. It was done by his friend and fellow sculptor Daniele da Volterra. He made it from Michelangelo’s death mask.
The bust clearly captures Michelangelo’s broken nose and his brooding nature. Think of this man’s output: David, the Pieta, the Sistine Chapel and the dome of St. Peter’s in Rome. That he could create so many works that were so different, is the genius of Michelangelo.
Statues by Cellini and Giambologna -My camera did not work well thru this display case – but inside are statue models by Benevenuto Cellini. They depict Perseus slaying Medusa, the monster with her hair of snakes. These are the miniature working models of Cellini’s famous, life-size statue that now stands next to the Palazzo Vecchio. That statue was made using the difficult “cast bronze” method. So Cellini used these smaller versions (one in wax and one in bronze) to work things out.
Nearby, we find another bronze statue – the well-known Flying Mercury, by Giambologna
Mercury, the messenger of the Roman gods, is on the move. He’s got flowers to deliver. 🙂
We of a certain age know that this statue became famous as the logo of a well-known flower-delivery company. Despite al lthe bustle and motion, this statue has a solid Renaissance core. The line of balance runs right up the center, from toes to hip to fingertip. Mercury is frozen in midstride. His top half leans slightly forward. That’s counterbalanced by his right leg in back. And all that motion is anchored by a solid center of gravity that rests firmly at Mercury’s hipbone.
David – Andrea dei Verroccho – Verrocchio’s bronze David is much more boyish. He’s more like a shepherd “boy” described in the Bible. He’s young and handsome, with lush curly hair. David leans on one leg, but it’s not your classic contrapposto. This is not a firm, commanding stance but a nimble one.
Verrocchio is best known as the teacher of Leonardo da Vinci. But he was also the premier sculptor of the generation after Donatello but before Michelangelo. Some have speculated that this statue was actually modeled on a real-life Florentine of that day – none other than Verrocchio’s young, handsome, curly-haired apprentice… Leonardo da Vinci. By the way, note David‘s smile. Compare that smug smile of the victor with Goliath’s expression of defeat.
David – Donatello: He’s naked. Donatello portrays David as a nude teenager. He’s wearing only a helmet, boots, and sword. His skin is smooth and he sways gracefully. He pokes his sword playfully at the severed head of Goliath.
By the time Donatello sculpted this, around 1440, he’d become the master of the bold new Renaissance style. Notice how David’s leg is planted fully contrapposto, resting his weight on one leg. But here, the pose gives the statue a more feminine rather than masculine look. Gazing into David’s coy eyes and his soft belly – it’s a very different experience from confronting Michelangelo’s more famous David. Where Michelangelo’s is an older and sturdier Renaissance Man, this statue is a mere Renaissance Boy.
Donatello’s bronze David was the first freestanding male nude Europe had seen in a thousand years. That was extremely bold. In the Middle Ages, the human body was considered a dirty thing, a symbol of man’s weakness, something to be covered up in shame. But with the Renaissance, a new class of rich and powerful merchants appeared, and they bought art simply for enjoyable.
Donatello’s David invites you to walk around.
Around back, look at David’s neck. On the hair, there are still traces of the original gilding. Check out David’s prominent buttocks – clearly those of a young man, almost a boy.
Now check out the head of Goliath. David’s toes curl around the severed head, drawing your attention to it. Notice the huge feather on the giant’s helmet. It directs the viewer’s eyes sensually up, up, and up… to David’s inviting backside.
Donatello’s David stood in the Medici home- that’s today Medici-Riccardi Palace. Michelangelo grew up there, admiring this very statue – the most bold statement yet of the growing movement known as the Renaissance.
St. George – Donatello: George is a proud warrior, with both feet planted firmly on the ground. He stands on the edge of his niche looking out, alert. He tenses his powerful right hand and scans the horizon. He’s the picture of confidence – calm, but ready to attack. St. George was the legendary slayer of dragons. The cross on his shield makes it clear that he was a Christian – just the sort of righteous warrior that proud Florentines could rally around as they battled nearby cities. George represented how they – powered by God – could slay dreaded dragons like Milan, Pisa, and Siena.
This is the original marble statue that Donatello carved around 1417. It was designed for a niche at Orsanmichele Church, where a copy stands today. That means George stood in one of the prominent spots in town, along the main drag. No wonder that this statue came to be the unofficial symbol of a proud Florence on the rise. Nearly a century later, Michelangelo would be inspired to create his own proud symbol of Florence – David. Note the similarities. Both are Christian warriors overcoming their enemies. Both have powerful right hands. And both exude an air of relaxed intensity and intelligent determination. This was the spirit of the Renaissance.
Check out the relief panel below the statue. The scene shows George actually doing what he’s been pondering – charging with his lance raised to slay the dragon and save the poor maiden. Get up close and you can make out the sketchy arches and trees. These simple details create the illusion of a distant landscape -of depth. Donatello had apprenticed for Ghiberti, the man who did the famous reliefs for the Baptistery doors. Donatello, the apprentice, is often credited with actually teaching his master how to create 3-D illusions like this.
Some would say these two relief panels represent the very first works of the Renaissance.
The year is 1401, and the city of Florence is having a contest to decide who should renovate the Baptistery with new bronze doors. All the great artists entered. These two panels – by Lorenzo Ghiberti and Flilippo Brunelleschi – were the finalists. Spoiler Alert: Ghiberti’s panel won.
Brunelleschi lost. But that was actually a good thing.
Because Brunelleschi lost, it freed him to go on and design the famous dome of the cathedral, or Duomo.
That contest in 1401 started an artistic revolution that would grow into the renaissance.
Take a closer look at the panels. Both depict the same subject – the Sacrifice of Isaac, from the Bible. They’re both masterpieces. Compare and contrast. Both artists catch the crucial moment when Abraham, obeying God’s orders, is about to kill his only son as a sacrifice. at the last moment – after Abraham has passed this test of faith – an angel of God appears to stop the bloodshed.
Look at Brunelleschi’s again. Abraham is right in the center. Look how he pulls the knife back, ready to strike.
Look at Ghiberti’s. It has the boy Isaac in the center, crouched on the altar. That gives the composition a focus, with everything else arranged around it. Below Isaac, there’s a horse and a couple of servants – great examples of early Renaissance realism. Also, look how the angel swoops in from the upper left to grab Abraham’s arm. Now that’s dramatic.
Brunelleschi’s angel comes straight out of the panel – right at you. Almost 3-D.
Ghiberti’s Isaac is ripped. He’s like a classical statue – so real and so vulnerable. Look at Abraham’s face – he is intense. It makes you glad the angel’s there to zoom in out of nowhere and save the boy in the nick of time.
Ghiberti’s won – in part because he was trained as a goldsmith, which made him better suited for the technical end of things. It also may have simply come down to money. Ghiberti’s proposal was to use the lost wax technique. This was less expensive than Brunelleschi’s panels, which were to be of solid bronze.
Whatever the reason, Ghiberti got the gig, and that started a historic chain of events: Ghiberti went on to make the famous Baptistery doors, the ones so popular with tourists. Meanwhile, Brunelleschi was free to build his awe-inspiring dome. And Donatello graduated from Ghiberti’s workshop to revolutionize sculpture. All three of these artists inspired Michelangelo, who built on their work and spread the Renaissance all across Europe.
The Bargello makes it clear that Florence was the birthplace of the Renaissance.