pear to be chained into never-relaxing tensions. Both exhibit that
anguished twisting of the body’s masses in contrary directions, seen
also in Michelangelo’s Bound Slave (FIG. 22-16) and in his Sistine
Chapel paintings (FIG. 22-19). This contortion is a staple of Michel-
angelo’s figural art. Day, with a body the thickness of a great tree and
the anatomy of Hercules (or of a reclining Greco-Roman river god
that may have inspired Michelangelo’s statue), strains his huge limbs
against each other, his unfinished visage rising menacingly above his
shoulder. Night, the symbol of rest, twists as if in troubled sleep, her
posture wrenched and feverish. The artist surrounded her with an
owl, poppies, and a hideous mask symbolic of nightmares. Some
scholars argue, however, that the personifications Night and Day al-
lude not to humanity’s pain but to the life cycle and the passage of
time leading ultimately to death.
On their respective tombs, sculptures of Lorenzo and Giuliano
appear in niches at the apex of the structures. Transcending worldly
existence, they represent the two ideal human types—the contem-
plative man (Lorenzo) and the active man (Giuliano). Giuliano (FIG.
22-17) sits clad in the armor of a Roman emperor and holds a
commander’s baton, his head turned alertly as if in council (he looks
toward the statue of the Virgin at one end of the chapel). Across
the room, Lorenzo appears wrapped in thought, his face in deep
shadow. Together, they symbolize the two ways human beings might
achieve union with God—through meditation or through the active
life fashioned after that of Christ. In this sense, they are not individ-
ual portraits. Indeed, Michelangelo declined to make likenesses of
Lorenzo and Giuliano. Who, he asked, would care what the two
dukes looked like in a thousand years? This attitude is consistent
with Michelangelo’s interests. Throughout his career he demon-
strated less concern for facial features and expressions than for the
overall human form. The rather generic visages of the two Medici
captains of the Church attest to this. For the artist, more important
was the contemplation of what lies beyond the corrosion of time.SISTINE CHAPEL CEILING When Julius II suspended work
on his tomb, the pope gave the bitter Michelangelo the commission to
paint the ceiling (FIG. 22-1) of the Sistine Chapel (FIG. 22-18) in- The artist, insisting that painting was not his profession (a protest
that rings hollow after the fact, but Michelangelo’s major works until
then had been in sculpture, and painting was of secondary interest to
him), assented in the hope that the tomb project could be revived.
Michelangelo faced enormous difficulties in painting the Sistine ceil-
ing. He had to address the ceiling’s dimensions (some 5,800 square
feet), its height above the pavement (almost 70 feet), and the compli-
cated perspective problems the vault’s height and curve presented, as
well as his inexperience in the fresco technique. (The first section
Michelangelo completed had to be redone because of faulty prepara-
tion of the intonaco; see “Fresco Painting,” Chapter 19, page 504.) Yet,
in less than four years, Michelangelo produced an
unprecedented work—a monumental fresco incor-
porating his patron’s agenda, Church doctrine, and
the artist’s interests. Depicting the most august and
solemn themes of all, the creation, fall, and re-
demption of humanity—themes most likely se-
lected by Julius II with input from Michelangelo
and a theological adviser, probably Cardinal Marco
Vigerio della Rovere (1446–1516)—Michelangelo
spread a colossal decorative scheme across the vast
surface. He succeeded in weaving together more
than 300 figures in an ultimate grand drama of the
human race.
A long sequence of narrative panels describ-
ing the creation, as recorded in Genesis, runs
along the crown of the vault, from God’s Separa-
tion of Light and Darkness (above the altar) to
Drunkenness of Noah (nearest the entrance to the
chapel). Thus, as viewers enter the chapel, look up,
and walk toward the altar, they review, in reverse
order, the history of the fall of humankind. The
Hebrew prophets and pagan sibyls who foretold
the coming of Christ appear seated in large
thrones on both sides of the central row of scenes
High and Late Renaissance 593Image not available due to copyright restrictions