Michelangelo was also fond of the stone-cutter Topolino who imagined he was an expert sculptor but who was in fact very mediocre. Topolino spent many years at the quarries of Carrara, from where he sent marble to Michelangelo; and he never sent a shipment without including three or four figures which he had roughed out himself and which made Michelangelo nearly die of laughter. Eventually, after he had returned from Carrara, Topolino roughed out a marble figure of Mercury and determined to finish it. He had almost done so when he asked Michelangelo to look at it and give his honest opinion.
‘You’re a fool, Topolino,’ Michelangelo said, ‘to want to make statues. Don’t you see that from his knee to his foot this Mercury is lacking about eight inches, and that you’ve made him both a dwarf and a cripple?’
‘Oh, that’s nothing,’ said Topolino. ‘If that’s all, I shall see to it. Leave it to me.’
Michelangelo laughed at the man’s naïvety; but after he had left, Topolino took a piece of marble, and having sawn the Mercury in two below the knees and added the length required, he gave the figure a pair of buskins to hide the joins. Then he asked Michelangelo to come and see what he had done; and having had another good laugh, Michelangelo was left marvelling at the way such blunderers, when driven to it, resort to measures beyond even the most competent artists.
While he was finishing the tomb of Julius II in San Pietro in Vincoli, Michelangelo caused a stone-cutter to execute for it and ornamental terminal figure. He guided him by saying: ‘Cut away here, make it level there, polish here…’ until, without realizing what was happening, the man had carved a figure. After it was finished, as the stone-cutter was staring at it in astonishment Michelangelo inquired: ‘Well, what do you think?’
‘I think it’s fine,’ he said, ‘and I’m grateful to you.’
‘Why’s that?’
‘Because through you I’ve discovered a talent I never knew I had.’
Now, to be brief, I must record that Michelangelo’s constitution was very sound, for he was lean and sinewy and although as a child he had been delicate and as a man he had suffered two serious illnesses he could always endure any fatigue and had no infirmity, save that in his old age he suffered from dysuria and gravel which eventually developed into the stone. For many years he was syringed by the hand of his dear friend, the physician Realdo Colombo, who treated him very devotedly. Michelangelo was of medium height, broad in the shoulders but well proportioned in all the rest of his body. As he grew old he took to wearing buskins of dogskin on his legs, next to the skin; he went for months at a time without taking them off, then when he removed the buskins often his skin came off as well. Over his stockings he wore boots of cordswain, fastened on the inside, as a protection against damp. His face was round, the brow square and lofty, furrowed by seven straight lines, and the temples projected considerably beyond the ears, which were rather large and prominent. His body was in proportion to the face, or perhaps on the large size; his nose was somewhat squashed, having been broken, as I told, by a blow from Torrigiano; his eyes can best be described as being small, the colour of horn, flecked with bluish and yellowish sparks. His eyebrows were sparse, his lips thin (the lower lip being thicker and projecting a little), the chin well formed and well proportioned with the rest, his hair black, but streaked with many white hairs and worn fairly short, as was his beard which was forked and not very thick.
There can be no doubt, as I said at the beginning of his Life, that Michelangelo was sent into the world by God as an exemplar for those who practise the arts so that they might learn from his behaviour how to live and from his works how to perform as true and excellent craftsmen. I myself, who must thank God for countless blessings rarely experienced by men of our profession, count among the greatest of them to have been born at a time when Michelangelo was living, and to have been thought worthy to have him for my teacher, and to have enjoyed his intimate friendship, as everyone knows and as the letters he wrote to me can prove. For the sake of the truth and because of the debt I owe to his love and kindness, I have set myself to write many things about him, and all true, which many others have failed to do. The other blessing I have received was something Michelangelo reminded me of when he wrote:
Giorgio, thank God for it, that He had you serve Duke Cosimo, who spares no expense to enable you to build and paint, and so put his ideas and projects into execution; whereas if you consider other artists, whose biographies you have written, they have enjoyed no such encouragement.
Michelangelo was followed to the tomb by a great concourse of artists, friends, and Florentines; and he was honourably buried in the church of Santi Apostoli, in the presence of all Rome. His holiness expressed the intention of having a personal memorial and sepulchre erected for him in St Peter’s itself.
Although he travelled with the post, his nephew Lionardo arrived after all was finished. Duke Cosimo had meanwhile resolved to have the man whom he had been unable to honour while he was living brought to Florence after his death and given a noble and costly burial; and after the duke had been told of the happenings in Rome, Michelangelo’s body was smuggled out of Rome by some merchants, concealed in a bale so that there should be no tumult to frustrate the duke’s plan. Before the corpse arrived, however, Florence received the news of Michelangelo’s death and at the request of the acting head of their academy, who at that time was the Reverend Don Vincenzo Borghini, the leading painters, sculptors, and architects assembled together and were reminded that under their rules they were obliged to solemnize the obsequies of all their brother artists. Borghini added that as they had done so with such love and devotion, and to everyone’s satisfaction, in the case of Fra Giovann’Agnolo Montorsoli (the first to the after the foundation of the Academy) they could well imagine what they ought to do to honour Buonarroti who had by the artists of Florence unanimously been elected the first academician and the head of them all. To this proposal, the artists responded that, as men who loved and were indebted to the genius of Michelangelo, they must strive in every possible way to pay him the utmost honour. After this resolution had been taken, so that the artists need not be inconvenienced by having to assemble every day, four men of high reputation and proven ability were elected to arrange for the ceremonies and obsequies: namely, Angelo Bronzino and Giorgio Vasari, painters, and Benvenuto Cellini and Bartolommeo Ammanati, sculptors. These artists were chosen to decide among themselves, and in consultation with Borghini, every single detail of the arrangements; and they were empowered to make use of all the resources of the Academy. They accepted this charge all the more readily as they found all the artists, young and old, coming forward eagerly to offer to execute the pictures and statues needed for the ceremonies. They then decided that, in the name of the Academy and confraternity of artists, the consuls and Borghini (by virtue of his official position) should tell the duke what their plans were and ask him for all the help and favours that were needed, and especially for permission to hold the obsequies in San Lorenzo, the church of the most illustrious Medici family, where most of the works that Michelangelo did in Florence are to be found. His Excellency was also to be asked to agree that Benedetto Varchi should compose and read the funeral oration so that Michelangelo’s great genius might fittingly be eulogized by Varchi’s great eloquence. Varchi needed the duke’s agreement to accept this role, as he was in the personal service of his Excellency, but they were certain that he himself would never have refused, being a generous man and greatly devoted to Michelangelo’s memory.1
After all this had been agreed and the academicians had dispersed, Borghini wrote to the duke as follows:
The Academy and confraternity of painters and sculptors have resolved, if it please your most illustrious Excellency, to do some honour to the memory of Michelangelo Buonarroti, because of the debt owed to the genius of perhaps the greatest artist that ever lived (one of their own countrymen and so especially dear to them as Florentines) and also because of the benefits the arts have received from his incomparable
works and inventions. Thinking themselves obliged to show the greatest possible appreciation of his achievements, they have therefore wanted their wishes expressed to your Excellency by one of their members, and they have rightly asked your Excellency for support. At their request and since it is my duty (for your Excellency was again pleased to have me this year as your representative among them) I have undertaken the task. Certainly, the enterprise seems to me worthy of these upright and accomplished men; and, moreover, I am aware of the way in which your Excellency fosters the arts and (as a unique resource and protection for men of talent at the present time) surpasses even your ancestors, who conferred such extraordinary favours on talented artists. We know that Lorenzo the Magnificent caused a memorial to be put up in the cathedral to Giotto, dead so long before, and had a fine marble sepulchre raised for Fra Filippo Lippi, all at his own expense, and on many different occasions conferred great benefits and honours on other artists. For all these reasons, I have been emboldened to recommend to your Excellency the petition of the Academy, which seeks to honour the genius of Michelangelo, the favoured pupil of the school of Lorenzo the Magnificent. This will be to their great satisfaction and will win the enthusiastic approval of the populace; it will bring no small encouragement to those who practise the arts and will demonstrate to all Italy the magnanimity and goodness of your most illustrious Excellency, whom may God long preserve in happiness, to the advantage of your people and for the benefit of art.
To this letter, the duke replied as follows:
Reverend and well-beloved,
The eagerness which the Academy has shown and is showing in its preparations to honour the memory of Michelangelo Buonarroti, who has gone to a better life, has greatly consoled us following the loss of that most singular artist. And not only will we give our consent to what has been asked in the memorandum but we shall also arrange for his bones to be brought to Florence, as from what we are told, he himself desired. All this we write to the Academy to encourage its members to honour the achievements of this great man in every possible way. May God keep you in contentment.
The letter, or rather memorandum, mentioned above, which the Academy addressed to the duke, ran as follows:
Most illustrious Excellency,
The Academy and members of the confraternity of design, which was established by the grace and favour of your Excellency, have heard with what concern and zeal you have taken steps through your envoy in Rome to have the body of Michelangelo Buonarroti brought to Florence; having assembled together, they have unanimously resolved to solemnize his obsequies in the best manner possible. Knowing, therefore, that your Excellency was revered by Michelangelo and loved him as much in return, they beg you, of your infinite goodness and liberality, to consent to the following. First, that they may solemnize his obsequies in San Lorenzo, the church built by your ancestors which shelters so many splendid examples of Michelangelo’s sculpture and architecture and near which you contemplate the construction of a studio serving the Academy of Design as a permanent centre of studies for architecture, sculpture, and painting. Second, we beg you to commission Benedetto Varchi not only to compose the funeral oration but also to deliver it himself, as he has readily agreed to do given your consent. In the third place, we beg and beseech you out of the same goodness and liberality to assist the Academy in all that their own limited resources cannot supply for the ceremonies. These things have all been discussed in the presence and with the agreement of the Very Reverend Incense Borghini, prior of the Innocenti, your Excellency’s representative at the Academy of Design.
The duke replied to the Academy as follows:
Dear friends,
We are happy to grant all your petitions, such has been the affection we have always felt for Michelangelo’s rare genius and that we bear also towards all of your profession. So do not fail to pursue all that you have planned for his obsequies, and we shall not fail to help you in your requirements. Meanwhile we have written to Benedetto Varchi concerning the oration and to the Rector of the hospital concerning other matters that may be needed in this matter. We bid you farewell. From Pisa.1
The letter to Varchi read:
Beloved Benedetto Varchi,
Our devotion to the rare genius of Michelangelo Buonarroti makes us desire to have his memory honoured and celebrated in every way; we shall, therefore, be pleased if you would accept the task of preparing the oration to be given at his obsequies, according to the resolution taken by the deputies of the Academy, and we shall be especially pleased if you would deliver it yourself. We bid you farewell.
Bernardino Grazzini also wrote to the deputies to tell them that the duke was displaying all the enthusiasm that could possibly be hoped for and that they could expect to receive from his Excellency every kind of help and favour. While all these things were being arranged at Florence, Michelangelo’s nephew, Lionardo Buonarroti, was in Rome, where he had gone on hearing that his uncle was ill, only to arrive too late, although he travelled with the post. He was told by Daniele da Volterra, who had been a very dear friend of Michelangelo, and by others who had been close to that devout and venerable artist, that Michelangelo had asked and prayed for his body to be taken to his homeland, the noble city of Florence, which he had always loved deeply. So with great determination and promptitude Lionardo secretly smuggled the corpse out of Rome and sent it to Florence in a bale, disguised as a piece of merchandise.
I must emphasize that Michelangelo’s last wish confirmed what was certainly true (although many think the contrary), namely, that the reason for his having stayed away from Florence for so long was because of the climate; experience had taught him that the air of Florence, being harsh and raw, was extremely bad for his health, whereas the milder and more temperate climate of Rome kept him in good health, with all his faculties as lively and intact as ever, to nearly his ninetieth year, and enabled him to continue working to the very last.
As Michelangelo’s body arrived quickly and unexpectedly at Florence, some of the arrangements for its reception were still to be completed; and at the request of the deputies on the day of its arrival, which was II March, a Saturday, the corpse was placed in the vault of the Confraternity of the Assumption, which is beneath the steps at the back of the high altar of San Pietro Maggiore. Nothing more was done that day, and then the next day, which was the second Sunday in Lent, all the painters, sculptors, and architects secretly assembled by the church, where they had taken nothing more than a pall of velvet, richly decorated and embroidered with gold, which they draped over the bier and the coffin, on which there lay a crucifix. Then at nightfall they gathered round the corpse, and the oldest and most distinguished masters each took one of a large number of torches brought for the purpose and the young men raised the bier at the same moment. They did this so eagerly that those who could approach near and get a shoulder under the bier could indeed count themselves fortunate, for they realized that in the future they would be able to boast of having carried the remains of the greatest man their arts had ever known. Inevitably, all the activity around the church had caused a crowd to gather, and it grew larger still after it was revealed that Michelangelo’s body was there and was to be carried to Santa Croce. As I said, every precaution had been taken to keep the proceedings secret and prevent the spread of rumours, since it was feared that if a crowd gathered there would be confusion and disorder and also because they were anxious that at that stage everything should be carried out quietly and without pomp, all public display being reserved for a more convenient and appropriate time. However, what with one thing and another, the contrary took place. For as to the crowd, the news passed from mouth to mouth and in the twinkling of an eye the church became so full of people that only with the greatest difficulty was the corpse carried to the sacristy, there to be freed from its wrappings and laid to rest. As for the magnificence of the occasion, although certainly it is very impressive and splendid to see a funeral procession with a sea of wax-lights, a great crowd of priests and aco
lytes, and mourners all clothed in black, none the less, on this occasion just as imposing was the sight of so many distinguished artists, already highly honoured and promising even more for the future, gathered together round the body of Michelangelo to assist in the ceremonies with such love and devotion. To be sure, the number of such artists (and they were all present) has always been very great in Florence, where the arts have always flourished. (And without offence to other cities I think I may say that their first and principal centre is Florence, just as that of the sciences was Athens.)
As well as the craftsmen there were so many citizens following them and so many others who had joined the procession as it went through the streets that the place could hold no more; and, more impressive still, nothing was heard except praise of Michelangelo, everyone agreeing that true genius has so much power that, after hope of further honour or achievement from a great artist has gone, yet for its own sake and merit it continues to be loved and honoured. For these reasons, the demonstration was more sincere and wonderful than any lavish display with gold and banners could possibly have been. So with its distinguished escort, Michelangelo’s body was carried into Santa Croce, where the monks performed the customary services for the dead; and it was then taken (not, as was said, without the greatest difficulty because of the crowds) into the sacristy. Then Vincenzo Borghini, who was there by virtue of his office as the duke’s representative, thinking to do something that would please many people and also (as he later confessed) anxious to see in death the man he had never seen while he was living, resolved to have the coffin opened. And then, when that was done, whereas he and all of us who were present were expecting to find that the body was already decomposed and spoilt (since Michelangelo had been dead twenty-five days, and twenty-two in the coffin) on the contrary we found it still perfect in every part and so free from any evil odour that we were tempted to believe that he was merely sunk in a sweet and quiet sleep. Not only were his features exactly the same as when he was alive (although touched with the pallor of death) but his limbs were clean and intact and his face and cheeks felt as if he had died only a few hours before.
Lives of the Artists Page 47