The History of Italian Painting. Luigi Lanzi

when Michelangiolo "painted the chapel of Pope Julius, he reached not half that dignity;" and Vasari adds, that "all the artists who studied and designed after this cartoon, became eminent;" among these he reckons the best Florentine artists of the second epoch, from the time of Frate, and to them he joined Raffaello d'Urbino. This is a point of critical disquisition not yet sufficiently cleared up, though much has been written both for and against the opinion of Vasari. I am not of the number of those who suppose that the labours of Bonarruoti had no influence on the style of Raffaello, because it appears dissimilar. It would seem to me an act of injustice to this divine genius, to imagine that profiting as he did by the finest productions of the art, he neglected those sources of information. I therefore firmly believe, that Raffaello likewise studied Michelangiolo, which he himself appears to acknowledge, as I shall afterwards relate. I cannot, however, grant to Vasari that he saw this cartoon on his first short visit to Florence.[144]

      This cartoon has perished, and report accuses Baccio Bandinelli of tearing it in pieces, either that others might not derive advantage from viewing it, or because from partiality to Vinci, and hatred to Bonarruoti, he wished to remove a subject of comparison, that might exalt the reputation of the latter above that of Lionardo. This circumstance is not authenticated, nor are we much interested in the supposed criminal, who though eminent as a designer and a sculptor, painted a very few pieces, that may almost all be reduced to an Ebriety of Noah, and the Imprisonment of the Fathers of the Church. Baccio soon renounced the pencil, and Michelangiolo appears to have done the same, for he was called to Rome by Julius II. as a sculptor, and when the Pope, about 1508, asked him to paint the ceiling of the chapel, he declined it, and wished to transfer the commission to Raffaello.

He was, however, constrained to undertake it, and, unaccustomed to work in fresco, he invited some of the best painters in this branch from Florence,[145] that they might assist, or rather that they might instruct him. When he had acquired what he deemed necessary, he effaced their labours entirely, and set about the work without an assistant. When the task was about half finished, he exhibited it for a little time to the public. He then applied himself to the other part, but proceeding more slowly than the impatience of the pontiff could endure, he was compelled by threats to use quicker despatch, and without assistance finished the greater part, then incomplete, in twenty months. I have said that he was unaided, for such was the delicacy of his taste, that no artist could please him; and as in sculpture, every piercer, file, and chisel, which he used, was the work of his own hands, so in painting, "he prepared his own colours, and did not commit the mixing and other necessary manipulations to mechanics or to boys."[146] Here may be seen those grand and finely varied figures of the Prophets and the Sybils, the style of which is pronounced by Lomazzo, an impartial judge, because an artist of a different school, "to be the finest in the world."[147] There, indeed, the dignity of the aspects, the solemn majesty of the eyes, a certain wild and uncommon casting of the drapery, and the attitudes, whether representing rest or motion, announce an order of beings who hold converse with the Deity, and whose mouths utter what he inspires. Amid this display of genius, the figure most admired by Vasari is that of Isaiah, "who, absorbed in meditation, places his right hand in a book, to denote where he had been reading; and with his left elbow on the book, and his cheek resting on that hand, he turns round his head, without moving the rest of his body, on being called by one of the children that are behind him; a figure which, if attentively studied, might fully teach the precepts of a master." No less science is displayed in his pictures of the Creation of the World, of the Deluge, of Judith, and in the other compartments of that vast ceiling. All is varied and fanciful in the garments, the foreshortenings, and the attitudes: all is novel in the composition and the designs. He that contemplates the pictures of Sandro and his associates on the walls, and then, raising his eyes to the ceiling, beholds Michelangiolo "soaring like an eagle above them all," can hardly believe that a man, not exercised in painting, in what may be considered as his first essay, should so nearly approach the greatest masters of antiquity, and thus open a new career to modern artists.

      In the succeeding pontificates, Michelangiolo, always occupied in sculpture and architecture, almost wholly abandoned painting, till he was induced by Paul III. to resume the pencil. Clement VII. had conceived the design of employing him in the Sistine Chapel on two other grand historical pictures; the Fall of the Angels, over the gate, and the Last Judgment, in the opposite façade, over the altar. Michelangiolo had composed designs for the Last Judgment, and Paul III. being aware of this, commanded, or rather entreated him, to commence the work; for he went to the house of Michelangiolo, accompanied by ten Cardinals, an honour, except in this instance, unknown in the annals of the art. On the suggestion of F. Sebastiano del Piombo, he was desirous that the picture should be painted in oil; but this he could not procure, for Michelangiolo replied, that he would not undertake it except in fresco, and that oil painting was employment only fit for women, or idlers of mean capacity. He caused the plaister prepared by Frate to be thrown down, and substituting a rough-cast suited to his purpose, he completed the work in eight years, and exhibited it in 1541. If in the ceiling of the chapel he could not fully satisfy himself, and was unable to retouch it as he wished to do after it was dry, in this immense painting he had an opportunity of fulfilling his intentions, and of demonstrating to the full the powers of his genius. He peopled this space, and disposed innumerable figures awakened by the sound of the last trumpet; bands of angels and of devils, of elected and condemned souls: some of them rising from the tomb, others standing on the earth; some flying to the regions of bliss, while others are dragged down to punishment.

Bottari observes[148] that there have been some who affected to depreciate this picture, on comparing it with the works of other artists, by remarking how much he might have added to the expression, to the colouring, or to the beauty of the contours: but Lomazzo, Felibien,[149] and several others, have not failed on that account to acknowledge him supreme in that peculiar branch of the profession, at which he aimed in all his works, and especially in this of his Last Judgment. The subject itself appeared rather created than selected by him. To a genius so comprehensive, and so skilled in drawing the human figure, no subject could be better adapted than the Resurrection; to an artist who delighted in the awful, no story more suitable than the day of supernal terrors. He saw Raffaello pre-eminent in every other department of the art: he foresaw that in this alone could he expect to be triumphant; and, perhaps, he indulged the hope also that posterity would adjudge the palm to him who excelled all others in the most arduous walk of art. Vasari, his confidant, and the participator of his thoughts, seems to hint at something of this sort in two passages in his Life of Michelangiolo.[150] He informs us, "that applying himself to the human figure, the great object of art, he neglected the attractions of colouring, all sporting of the pencil, and fantastic novelty:" and again, "neither landscapes, trees, nor houses, are to be seen in it, and we even look in vain for some degree of variety and ornament, which are never attempted, probably because he disdained to submit his towering genius to such objects." I cannot suppose in Michelangiolo such arrogance, nor such negligence of his own improvement in an art which embraces every object in nature, that he would limit himself to the naked figure, which is a single branch, and to one only character, his own sublime and awful manner. I rather imagine, that discovering his strength in this style, he did not attempt any other. There he proceeded as in his peculiar province, and, what one cannot wholly commend, he observed no limits, and wished for no control. This Last Judgment was filled with such a profusion of nudity, that it was in great danger of being destroyed: from a regard to the decency of the sanctuary, Paul IV. proposed to white-wash it, and was hardly appeased with the correction of its most glaring indelicacies, by some drapery introduced here and there by Daniel da Volterra, on whom the facetious Romans, from this circumstance, conferred the nick-name of the Breeches-maker.[151]

Other corrections have been proposed in it by