The Divine Mr. M

Here comes the son: Michelangelo's "Study for Christ in Limbo" projects the Catholic notion of a pre-heaven waiting room onto the Messiah.

“If we could have brought the Sistine Chapel ceiling, we would’ve,” said Gary Radke, Syracuse University professor of fine arts and curator of the show. Sketches and documents proved much more portable. Twelve drawings in the master’s hand were among the items selected from the Casa Buonarroti in Florence by its director, Pina Ragionieri, with input from Radke and Domenic Iacono, the director of SUArt Galleries. “The treasures I bring to Syracuse are exalted by the way {everyone involved} has understood and presented them,” Ragionieri said.    

And they are treasures, especially for those seeking a deeper knowledge of the famous man. The appearance of effortless perfection in Michelangelo’s work led him to be known as “the Divine” in his lifetime, but in his drawings we see a craftsman carefully working out ideas and correcting mistakes. In “Study for a Christ in Limbo” proportions and contours are explored with quick pencil lines. Hatch marks and smooth shading add dimension. Forms arise from false starts; heavy red pencil clarifies and finalizes them.

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Although sketches were crucial to Michelangelo’s work, he wasn’t nostalgic about them. Both sides of the page are used in many of these drawings, and mundane notes like grocery lists sometimes bleed through. Once a drawing’s usefulness passed, he often burned it, preferring to leave behind only the masterpieces.

Michelangelo’s expertise and obsession with male anatomy is clear. A study of “Sacrifice of Isaac” for the Sistine Chapel tests poses of tense and conflicted musclemen. Another shows three men flexing, bracing themselves against some disaster from on high. The strong, sensuous face depicting famous swan fan “Leda” suggests that even his women are men. Documents record that French ministers burned the finished painting of “Leda” in 1699 because it was “so vivid and lascivious with passionate love.”

Floor plans of chapels and diagrams of fortifications show Michelangelo’s talent for architecture. He considers all possible approaches, for people or for cannon fire. The detailed drawings show an interest in perfection that extends to every block of stone in the construction, not just the decoration.

Alterations were made at the gallery to accommodate the show. Before the irreplaceable items were installed, all operations from security to the air conditioning were reconsidered. Some changes were made for practical reasons; others heighten the dramatic experience. Visitors enter one of the galleries through stark white columns, part of an imposing scale model of the Porta Pia. The re-creation of the ancient Roman gate was based on the ghost of an earlier design in one of the exhibited sketches.

Examples of Michelangelo’s poetry fill one of the galleries, with a handwritten madrigal the centerpiece. A translation by 19th-century poet John Addington Symonds on display returns the original male pronouns to the bittersweet song about the torture of attraction to unattainable beauty. Other documents include a sensitive epitaph for an underling’s son and a bitingly humorous description of a woman with a face “a snail seems to have passed across. . . it shines so much.”

Another gallery holds relevant works by other artists, including an oil portrait of Michelangelo at 60 by Marcello Verusti. Ornate gold curlicues frame a weathered face which glares dubiously as if trying to decide whether to admit guests inside his private studio. A miniature alabaster bust, commemorative coins and intricate engravings bear witness to a tenacious cult of personality. 

A bronze cast of Michelangelo’s larger-than-life “Pieta” is truly awe-inspiring. Fernando Marinelli used Renaissance techniques to produce the replica from molds his grandfather made in the 1930s. It took 18 months to pour, assemble, weld, clean and apply patinas. Bronze allows for effects that the original marble does not: Christ lies feather-light in his mourning mother’s arms and emits a soft glow while roots and rocks in the background seem dull and heavy. 

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Radke claimed the venue is fitting because “Syracuse is experiencing its own Renaissance.” He is enthusiastic about a local culture that values its past while striving toward a greater future. If this show is any indication of things to come, he’s on to something.

Michelangelo: The Man and the Myth will be showing at SUArt Galleries, Shaffer Art Building on the SU Quad until Oct. 19. The gallery is open Tuesdays to Sundays, 11 a.m. to 4:30 p.m., and every Thursday until 8 p.m. For more information, call 443-4097.

—Jon Dufort