The following article is substantially that written as a diary entry on January 1st 1991, while living in Italy. In publishing it for the first time here, I have added other ideas, particularly after the point marked [2016].
NB Michelangelo Buonarroti 1475 - 1564
Gian Lorenzo Bernini 1598 - 1680
Both men were of very similar age when they began their respective Davids, i.e. about 26 years old
Michelangelo and Bernini: David
Yesterday, the last day of the year, I went for a long walk [in Rome], a walk which eventually led me to the Villa Borghese which was fortunately open. Apart from the beauty of the building itself, and its marvellous decorations, including ancient Roman floor mosaics with 'portraits' of gladiators, there are several Caravaggio pictures and several sculptures by Bernini (amongst much else).
I spent quite a bit of time studying both the paintings and the sculptures, especially the large canvas by Caravaggio of the The Madonna of the Serpent (Madonna dei Palafrenieri) 1605, and the well-known statue of David 1623-24, by Bernini. Both are concerned with at least one thing in common, I might say one abstract thing, that is: space. Caravaggio uses often the device of the outstretched arm (in this case, that of the Child Jesus) to establish a contact - psychological as well as 'physical' - with our real space, and then leads us, through this device, into the 'real' (although not very deep) pictorial space of his painting. This device is used also by Bernini.
In both this large painting and the David by Bernini, the device of the extended or bent arm - with its implied or real space (i.e. painted or sculpted) between the inside of the elbow or arm and the body - is used to increase the 'existence' of the painted or sculpted figure in a psychologically acceptable 'real' space; in the case of the sculpture of course, the actual arm and the created space do in fact exist in three dimensions [1]. The importance of this device, or this extension or development of our concept of 'artistic' space, is perhaps better pointed up by the use of a comparison.
For example, we can compare the David of Michelangelo with that of Bernini. In the former, apart from the fact that we are dealing with an early work, and one limited by the circumstances of the stone itself (the block of marble [2]) - nevertheless, representing a typical spatial conception of the period - we can see that Michelangelo is basically concerned with the existence of a single, self-contained body, represented in three dimensions, with its spatial crux being principally that of the anatomical relationships of one part of the body to another (i.e. actual, not interpreted). Certainly, the raised left arm protrudes into a space outside the limits of the torso (at that time, and especially with Michelangelo, still regarded as the indispensable axis of a figure sculpture), but, as in nearly all of Michelangelo's sculpture - except perhaps his last Pietà , the Rondanini - the image (and therefore its space) is profoundly related to the pre-existing shape of the block of marble itself. Perhaps for this reason, some of Michelangelo's works seem under pressure, the figures themselves, and in particular the 'unfinished' ones, ready to explode at any moment. [3]
David by Michelangelo, 1501-04, detail. Accademia, Florence
Note the basic 'frontal' conception: i.e. it can be argued that this statue was conceived to be seen in fact from one point of view only, its supposed original collocation. This may explain the oversized head as this work was meant to be seen from some distance below and not as we now see it, from comparatively close up - although we still have to look up at it, it is so large! Note as well the relaxed left leg contrasting clearly with the weight-bearing right one; also, the pronounced 'hang' of the right shoulder creating a descending line with the left one towards David's right arm; this line has its opposite in the ascending one of the hips, where the right is higher and the left is lower.
In any case, to return to the argument, Michelangelo is concerned generally with extracting (liberating) a convincing and power-full image from a block of stone; he is concerned that the image take the place of the block (while however, not entirely denying the natural reality of his material): in other words, he creates one reality in place of another. For Bernini on the other hand, it would seem that the block of stone itself has little or no interest; he is not concerned with the reality or initial integrity of the block, but with something completely different, that is, the space which his figure can generate and spread into.
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| David by Bernini, 1623-24, Villa Borghese, Rome |
His David has no vertical (or central) axis, as do nearly all Michelangelo's sculpted works, but rather, is a complex of various axes, all centred more or less around the same point - but not a central point - i.e. the face of his figure, the concentrated expression of which is, I would say, active as opposed to the somewhat passive expression of Michelangelo's David (incidentally, reminiscent of that of Donatello's Saint George). Bernini's figure leans both forward and to the left (viewed from the front) and stretches from his left foot, along his leg, up and around his twisting and leaning torso/back towards three different focal points: first, the decided and acting face; second, the elbow of his left arm; and third, the hand of the right arm. If viewed from the left side, i.e. looking directly at the side where the two arms are, we find ourselves involved in at least two descriptions of actual space: one is the spatial difference between the position of the figure's right foot and the figure's head, not to mention the vertical axis - wherever one might choose to place this; the other is the Baroque space (also to be seen in Caravaggio [4]) between the inside of the bent arm and the body: here extended in a typical Bernini-style Baroque spiral by means of the sling itself which conducts our eye not only from the figure's left shoulder - thrown forward in preparation for powerful movement - along the left arm to the hand, but also along the sling, downwards towards David's right hand and arm which carry the motion further around the figure, and towards what would have been considered in Michelangelo's time, the 'back' of the sculpture. In this way, we the viewers, are involved in the represented event, not only psychologically, but also physically: Bernini's David occupies a part of our 'real' space; with Michelangelo and a lot of Renaissance art, we are offered an 'idea' to contemplate, and our physical involvement with the portrayed event is deliberately restricted (on both historical and hierarchical grounds).
Michelangelo had himself realised this possibility in painting, examples of which may be seen in the Sistine Chapel, both on the ceiling (eg the Nude Youth above the Lybian Sibyl) and in the Judgement; his Sacra Famiglia (or Doni Tondo, 1503) in the Uffizi, various drawings, and sketches in clay for projected sculptures, also reveal that Buonarroti was consciously working with ways of extending his images into real or pictorial space. However, in much of his sculpture at any rate, Michelangelo's figures, while appearing to be attempts at defying the reality of the squared block of marble, almost never have 'protrusions' which would entail either a departure from the abstract purity of the untouched block, or the addition of pieces to the original block, again, for him, an impurity of concept. It can be said that Michelangelo was, in these terms, still closely attached to an earlier conception of space - also revealed, to my mind, in the difference between Florentine church architecture and that of Baroque Rome: Florentine space, be it painted or real, (i.e. using painted perspective, or actual church facades) is always related, and is in this sense very pure, to the flat surface: that is, 'flatness' is a given in the Florentine psyche; paintings and buildings are illusions worked on 'flat' surfaces. In Rome however, things are different.
From the beginning (ancient Rome), space was a created thing - was, one might say, the given, and flatness was added to contain or limit space. By the time of the Baroque, the question was not, as it had been in 15th century Florence, how to pierce space, but rather, what to do about all those straight lines! In Bernini's David, there is one straight line, and it is on a profound angle (a line may be drawn from David's left foot, along the leg, along the torso, to the head or shoulder). [2016] Bernini's David is coiled like a spring, seen at the instant prior to release, a spring coiled on itself yes, but already stretching into 'our' space at several points. By contrast, Michelangelo's David is a composed, restrained, upright figure, impassive and self-contained; from some angles, it is clear that his left arm and his left leg do 'protrude' from the 'simple' frontal view of the chest and waist areas, but the principal movements are those of the spine - entailing a curve in the torso - and a displacement of David's weight onto his right leg (not to mention the obvious raising of the left arm). Michelangelo later evolved this simple curve and shift of weight into his more complex spirals, with characteristic dropping of one shoulder, often quite marked, and the body frequently finishing-up as a kind of human corkscrew; extremely expressive of inner torment or struggle - but not weakness (e.g. Day and Night in the Medici Chapel; the Rebellious Slave, Paris, Louvre). Interestingly, this device of a spiral may be seen also in works of Classical antiquity: the Dying Gaul and the Laocoon being two examples.
Bernini's David has none of this self-questioning as seen in (later) Michelangelo; he is absolutely clear about what he has to do and we catch him in the very act of doing it! Michelangelo's David, seen from the front, is ambiguous in that sense because we do not know if he is contemplating doing something, or whether he has just done it! Whichever may be the case, he is definitely not the self-tormenting adult man of Michelangelo's more mature work: but he is static! This David, nevertheless, is young, virile and brave - and ultimately victorious; exactly the same in these terms, as Bernini's David. How much he reveals in his restraint is Florentine in contrast to the exuberant, open display of Baroque Rome. In a way, Michelangelo could be seen as the necessary precursor to Bernini (as Nicola [5] and Giovanni Pisano, Jacopo della Quercia [6] and Donatello could be seen as precursors to Michelangelo); however, I do not wish to imply here a developmental or evolutionary attitude to the way Art changes: I do not believe Bernini was superior to, or more developed than Michelangelo: he was an artist mirroring his own times just as Michelangelo was mirroring his.
1 The use of the word 'psychological' in this article refers to the effect of certain types of painted images on the perceptive faculties, in the first instance, the eyes. Although a three-dimensional 'realistic' sculptural work really does have form and really does occupy space to a greater or lesser degree, we often 'read' two-dimensional 'realistic' pictures in a very similar way, even though we know full well that the image is, in fact, flat. The point is, that through the artifice of the skilled painter (given that he or she has this intention), our eyes and then our brains accept the created illusion and are content to understand it as though it were 'real', in the same way as they accept as real the forms in a 'realistic' (or figurative) sculpture. It is important to be aware that not all types, styles or periods of art aim or have aimed at 'realism', in fact, many actually avoid it at all costs. But in terms of a lot of what might generally be called 'western' art, Orthodox icons, for example, do not appear to be concerned with space in the same ways as, say, Renaissance art is; given this, we, so to speak, 'skip over' that aspect, and take a Greek or Russian icon on its own terms (something interestingly, that early Modernism insisted that we do with its products).
2 The history of this commission (in 1501 to Michelangelo) is an interesting one in so far as the block of marble had already been given to another sculptor, in 1464, who had in fact begun work on the stone; Michelangelo therefore, had to adjust what had already been done and accommodate his conception to an 'impure' block.
3 In this way, the Rondanini (various versions, the final in 1564, the year of Michelangelo's death) differs from Michelangelo's other work because it seems he had at last lost interest in that 'terrible' force (in Italian: terribilità , used by Vasari to describe a particular quality in the work of M.), and consequently the work differs not only in its physical characteristics from his typical pieces, but also psychologically and spiritually - as do, it may be argued, all his Madonnas. By way of comparison, examples of sculpted 'terrible' females are the Dawn and the Night in the Medici Chapel, in Florence. The Virgin and Child however, in the same place, have a completely different feel.
4 In fact, extended or raised arms used to create space were not peculiar to the Baroque period: Andrea del Sarto for instance, had already used this device during the Florentine Renaissance - as had numerous other artists including, as already pointed out, Michelangelo.
5 See especially Nicola Pisano's Daniel on the pulpit of the Baptistry at Pisa, c 1260. Also interesting are the unusually crowded compositions by Pisano, both in Pisa and in Siena: could these too have influenced not only Michelangelo in, for example his early Battle of the Centaurs as well as his mature Last Judgement in the Sistine Chapel, but also the Mannerists Pontormo and Rosso Fiorentino?
5 See especially Nicola Pisano's Daniel on the pulpit of the Baptistry at Pisa, c 1260. Also interesting are the unusually crowded compositions by Pisano, both in Pisa and in Siena: could these too have influenced not only Michelangelo in, for example his early Battle of the Centaurs as well as his mature Last Judgement in the Sistine Chapel, but also the Mannerists Pontormo and Rosso Fiorentino?
6 Jacopo della Quercia (1374? - 1438), see especially the Adam in his Expulsion panel, 1425-38 on S.Petronio, Bologna, for a possible influence on the 'spiral' and dropped shoulder of Michelangelo.
