Never Fear Art gods: Mission Accomplished.

Essay Number 3 from Italy:

Never fear art gods: Mission Accomplished.

8:20. The Academia Museum hadn’t been open for more than thirty minutes and already a line of hundreds anxious tourist lined up waiting to get in. Luckily, we had our student museum cards that allow us entry without waiting, which of course made for some grumbling from the people we were cutting in front of.  Nonetheless, of all the museums in Italy, this was the one I had heard the most about. What made it so popular? Was it because it was the first academy of drawing in Europe and founded in the middle of the sixteenth century? Nope, I didn’t actually know any of this until I googled it about nine minutes ago. This museum is probably most famous now because of it being the home of Michelangelo’s David.

            What’s so special about the David? Why do thousands of people each year come to this city, to this museum, to see this one piece of art? According to an internet source, “At the age of 26, Michelangelo was given a leftover block of marble that came from the mountains of Carrara, one which had previously been worked on by various other artists.  The piece was intended as a monumental work, a testimony to the city’s republican pride, not one for close confinement, but was moved to the Academia in 1873 (from Palazzo Vecchio, where a replica now stands) to protect it from the ravages of time and the weather.” But obviously, that can’t be the all the hype? It’s just a sculpture done by a famous sculptor right? Before I left, my art teacher from high school who visited the David in 2000 said to me, “You owe the art gods enough respect to grace this masterpiece with your presence…or else they may shun you forever.” But WHY is THIS particularly one so worthy of my visit? I set out this hot Florentine morning to find the answer for myself.

After cutting the line, the first room we visited was off to the right: a room full of work by Lorenzo Bartolini. Lorenzo Bartolini, not to be confused with the long lost Italian lover of Claire in the movie Letter’s to Juliet, was a famous Renaissance sculptor. He had quite a lengthy history with the Academia.  At the age of 12, he studied briefly at the school. In 1812, he taught briefly a short series of classes. In 1839, he was made a professor at the Academia, where he started a scandal when introducing a hunchback as the life model for his students. Now the Academia houses around 300 models for his portraits and busts.  I was amazed walking through this room admiring these marbles casts. The smallest of details were the ones I found the most amazing: toenails, strands of hair, grapes on the vine-all carved to perfection.

            In the second room, I was greeted with a long row of unfinished Michelangelo pieces. Even unfinished, I was impressed by the craftsmanship of the Pietà Palestrina.  Three figures coming to life out of this mass of stone, chisel marks and all, I couldn’t help but stop and stare. Again and again, Michelangelo causing me to stop and admire his efforts: unfinished or not.  Nice bicep here, nice rib cage there, then at the end of the hall there it was.

The David.

Standing proudly perfectly projected in the sunlight streaming in from the skylight above.  It was breathtaking. I probably spent a solid thirty minutes circling and circling this masterpiece over and over, noticing things I hadn’t the time before.  The furrow of his brow, the confidence of his pose, the way his curls lay perfectly placed on his head, the hugeness of his hands.  Seventeen feet tall with knee caps bigger than my head, much more awesome than any picture I have seen could capture: a photo is only worth a thousand words after all. My teacher had been right; this was worth my time. 

After camping at David’s feet for a long while, I forced myself away through the rest of the museum: more Bartolini and Renaissance paintings from Florentine’s that in my opinion had nothing on Michelangelo. They felt like sloppy seconds to the phenomenon I had just graced the presence of. The David was certainly the highlight of the Academia.

If traveling to Florence I encourage you to stop in and see what all the fuss is about for yourself. You won’t fully understand until you see it in person. And if that doesn’t get you to wait out the long lines at the Academia then do it in fear of the art gods (from what I hear they have a mean shun).