Divine David Michelangelo’s Most Famous Sculpture Has Been Adored
for Exactly 500 Years By
David Masello
FROM THE FEBRUARY 2004 ISSUE OF THE OUT
TRAVELER
David is fresh from his bath. All 17 feet of his
smooth Carrara marble body has been cleansed of grime that has
built up since his last cleaning, which was in 1843.
On the
occasion of his 500th birthday this year, David is
poised for his impending fight with—and victory over—the
Goliath. The furrows in his handsome brow, the raised veins on
the backs of his hands, the quivered nostrils register his
assessment of the approaching, belligerent giant. David
is soon to load his taut sling with the rock that will fell
the Philistine foe. His gaze is so unwavering that many
visitors to the statue in Florence’s Galleria dell’ Accademia
can be seen looking in the direction of David’s stare.
No matter
what people profess as their “type”—the kind of body they find
attractive—few can deny that David’s build is ideal.
The nude, curly haired figure is at once slim and muscular,
boyish and manly, classically handsome but forever modern.
David’s head and hands are larger than his other
proportions—though the other parts are proportionate to a
sculpture more than three times the size of a normal man (a
physiological fact best understood when looking up from his
pedicure-perfect feet).
Giorgio
Vasari, the gay artist and writer of Lives of the Most
Excellent Painters, Sculptors, and Architects, wrote of
the sculpture, “The grace of this figure and the serenity of
its pose has never been surpassed.”
Who is
this David—apart from the teenage biblical figure who
saved his people, the Hebrews? Michelangelo Buonarroti
(1475-1564) was a gay man who seems to have expressed many of
his sublimated sexual desires in stone—David being his
most male-adoring creation. Frederick Hartt, the late scholar,
theorized that David had been modeled on “one of the
mountaineer quarrymen from Carrara. Such a lean build,
especially the contrast between the broad, muscular shoulders
and the taut, tiny waist, would be the normal result of
habitually rotating the torso while swinging a heavy
hammer.”
Most art
historians believe David was an imagined creation of
Michelangelo’s: the ideal male chiseled from rock (freed from
stone, as Michelangelo often described his task) between 1501
and 1504. Unlike most artists of his day who hired assistants
to help with the labor of making sculpture, Michelangelo
worked alone on David. He built a wooden shed around
the great block of stone so that he could sculpt
unseen.
Michelangelo was not a stereotypical gay man—even in
his day. Contemporary accounts describe him as disheveled and
unappealing, and his politics were equally confusing. Although
Renaissance Florence was famously tolerant of homosexuality,
Michelangelo was a supporter of Girolamo Savonarola, a mad
monk whose power challenged the Medici family. Savonarola
believed that gay men should be burned at the stake (his fate)
and that most worldly goods and extravagances (i.e., artworks)
be fed into his “bonfires of the vanities.”
By the
time the Florentine authorities chose Michelangelo to create a
David for the city’s Piazza Signoria—a sculpture that
would symbolize the power and progressive attitude of the
Italian republic—the 26-year-old artist was a famous man. The
commission came with a caveat: Michelangelo was to carve a
block of stone on which preliminary work for a David
figure had begun by a minor artist in 1464. But that artist’s
work was so minimal that Michelangelo was able to fashion a
figure, ultimately, of his creation.
When the
statue was completed, earning the moniker “Il Gigante” (The
Giant), a committee was formed to determine its exact
placement in town. Those on the board included artists
Leonardo da Vinci and Sandro Botticelli, both gay.
On May 14,
1504, the statue began its slow movement over boards to its
outdoor place. Accounts of the day record admiring crowds—as
well as youths who threw stones at the sculpture. Although no
damage occurred, in 1527 antigovernment forces hurled a bench
from a window that broke an arm in three (Michelangelo oversaw
repairs). The David remained in its locale until 1873,
whereupon it was moved inside to its present spot.
Whether it
was issues of morality or worries that the nude figure would
encourage vandalism, authorities had a brass garland installed
over the loins—a shield that remained in place for another
century. Since then, nothing has been left to the imagination,
other than the fantasy of meeting someone as beautiful as
David. |