That David thing

Magnet #891 - Michaelangelo's David

I debated on using this David magnet for joy magnetism, but then I realized you know what? It's considered one of the world's masterpieces. It's art. Deal with it.

We had a bit of a tough time of it in Florence last year, our first day being the worst. day. ever. Everyone was fighting. No one wanted to be there. And on top of that, God gave us some torrential rainshowers to deal with. In the middle of the day, with little coverage and only a few umbrellas between us.

Oh, my, it was just miserable. It was that day that I vowed to see what I could of Florence, because dadgumit, I was never coming back to town again.

So, a couple of days later, when my mom said, tiredly and clearly at the end of her rope, I really don't want to go see "that David thing." But we all said, "Hold up. We're here. We're in the neighborhood. Hells yeah, we're going to see 'that David thing.'" And so we did.

Can I tell ya'll? And there's really no way to say it without it sounding dirrty, but honestly, I had no idea how big David was. Everyone talks about Michelangelo and you've seen his work online and on tv and in books, and you sort of vaguely understand and accept that he's one of the greatest artists that the world has ever known. But, until you actually see his work, you just don't really get it.

So when you go to the Galleria dell'Accademia, and you turn the corner and you see David for the very first time from afar, down the long hallway, your breath just catches.

I mean, Michaelangelo sculpted this 16-foot (or 17, depending on who you believe) fine specimen of man from one piece of old, remaindered marble. One! Piece! It took him about three years, from 1501-1504. Dudes. That's more than FIVE hundred years ago!

And yet, here David stands proudly in this magnificent gallery space, all by his lonesome, save for the dozens of onlookers (uplookers)? examining every inch of his almost perfect body atop his giant pedestal. I say almost perfect because supposedly, the piece was conceived to be an outdoor sculpture, hence the larger than scale hands and feet. Oh! And according to the Accademia site, if you look at David's face head on, his eyes are actually looking in two different directions. Honestly, once you see the guy up close, all the way to his veins in his hands, forearms and legs, you just appreciate those other imperfections, as utter perfection.

So, yeah. If you get a chance to go to Florence, drop by and see that David thing. Mom didn't regret going in the end.

As for me, the best part about the visit was the sheer fascination the piece held for my dad. He's always loved to see how things are made, and has so much respect for workmanship that goes into any craft - whether it's building megabridges or building a simple wood cabinet. Watching him appreciate and study David was a lovely thing to see.

No kidding, in the couple of hours we spent there, we couldn't really tear him away from it. He must have walked around the statue a good dozen times, coming up with new details on every trip. We did, too, just to I Spy every detail. Right down to David's thing.

What? I couldn't help myself. I know it's art, but I just read that some companies who offer replicas of the piece actually offer a fig leaf, free of charge, for those who want to censor themselves. I mean, what?

The agony and the ecstasy

Magnet #737 - Michelangelo's Creation of Adam

One of the greatest works of art in the world is the Sistine Chapel in Vatican City, painted by Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni in the early 1500s. It spans about 5,000 square feet (!!!!), was painted during the course of four years, and mostly tells the story of the Book of Genesis.

This magnet that I picked up at the Seattle Art Museum a few months ago - it's the Creation of Adam, a small part of the many, many, many paintings on the chapel's ceiling. It depicts God on the wings of angels, giving the breath of life to Adam, through their outstretched fingers. A powerful subject, with exquisite detail. In my estimation, it's kind of a shame that it's on a ceiling, where you can't see it up close...or spend hours on your back examining the piece.

The Vatican Museums put together a pretty good virtual tour of the chapel, though, and it's quite amazing the amount of work that's gone into this chapel. The chapel takes its name from Pope Sixtus IV, who was pope in the late 1400s and founded this chapel and brought together great artists of the time.

I haven't been, but the frescoes alone should be enough to visit. I do have a dim memory of when I was little and being forced by my dad to watch The Agony and the Ecstasy, yet another Charlton Heston movie, this time as Michelangelo and the story behind creating one of his most definitive works. Oh! And there's this Eyewitness to History account of someone who spent time with him, and eventually wrote his biography in the 1500s.

Michelangelo didn't really want the commission for a few reasons, but one was because he didn't really consider himself a painter. He considered himself primarily a sculptor. I've been lucky enough to see some of those other great works. Our trip to Italy saw to that - don't worry, there's a magnet for that. I just love that not even two weeks later, I was in Seattle, getting to see a dozen original Michelangelo sketches and other papers on exhibit.

Fantastic exhibit, that was. The deal is that in the whole U.S., there's not even a dozen of Michelangelo's original works. But in Seattle, for the Michelangelo: Public and Private exhibition, they had a whole dozen, borrowed from Casa Buonarroti. Amazing. (Even though we totally should have hit up that museum while we were in Florence. Ack!)

They had what was supposedly the last letter he ever wrote, plus several sketches from his work on David and the Sistine Chapel. The deal with him was that he regularly destroyed his own sketches, because he didn't like for the public to see him as human, that is, that he would need to practice before his great genius was put into practice. But, his family managed to collect these drawings and studies and preserve them.

Despite all that - the glimpse into the man behind the genius - the studies he made, the original sketches he tried - I have to say, my absolute favorite part of the exhibit? They had a shopping list that Michelangelo put together for his servant. Except, because servants were generally illiterate, he had to draw the list. How fabulous is that?

So there's the list with the Italian word, and then little illustration. On the list was a cute little chicken, a cute little fish, a cute little loaf of bread. Can't you just see it?

Here's the list, just grab what you can at the ShopRite!

Except, you know...in Italian. So...

Ecco l'elenco, basta afferrare ciò che si può al ShopRite!