1512
It must have been quite something, that day in 1512, November 1st to be precise. Pope Julius (the second of that name, Giuliano della Rovere by birth) had waited four long years, denied entry by the arrogance of that mere, that insolent, that self-important ceiling-painter, that failed banker's son from Caprese who had dared to tell him to his face that he would brook no interference in the design, that he insisted on a free hand; and then having to sneak in at night to see what progress had been made.
He had already yawed his favours towards Rafael by then of course, not that Rafael was a superior craftsman, simply that he had the flirtatious manners of a courtier, where Buonarotti was bluff and gruff and brusque.
Still, when you think how drab the place had been that dei Dolci put up for Sixtus, a dull rectangle of plain brick whose tedium was simply emphasised by those six arched windows; it needed Art to bring this dead religion alive – though hopefully neither God nor any of the Cardinals had heard him say that; they regarded him as dangerously intellectual as it was.
But what Art, whether his commissions or those of Sixtus! Perugino, Botticelli, Girlandaio, della Gatta, Signorelli. And now this, this, this glorious pinnacle of European Art to adorn the ceiling of this glorious pinnacle of European architecture: no, not the chapel, or not just the chapel, but St Peter's in all its heavenly entirety. Perfection! Everything he had hoped for, and still more – though it would have been helpful if they had dismantled all the scaffolding before the opening.
And then, and yet, there was still the problem of the blank west wall. Buonarotti had dropped some hint about frescoing a Last Judgement there – Buonarotti who had told him to his face when offered the original commission for the ceiling, "I don't do fresco" – but it would never happen now.
O why had he allowed that sycophantic wasp Rafael to sting him with his honeyed sting?
Enjoy a splendid video (here) about the Sistine Chapel, made and posted by the Khan Academy.
Amber pages
Stephen Crane, author, born today in 1871
Sholem Asch, Polish-Jewish author, not to be confused with Sholem Aleichem, also a Polish-Jewish author (see February 18); born today in 1880
Gary Player, South African golfer, born today in 1935 (that's me caddying for my mum - but the story of this unlikely round at Wentworth will not be told here; personal history also has its out-of-bounds)
And today in 1755, an earthquake in Lisbon, which left 60,000 dead and Voltaire the starting-point for his novel, "Candide"
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