Great Pictures, As Seen and Described by Famous Writers | Page 9

the Moses which Maestro Michael
Angelo has just finished: that statue alone would more than suffice to
honour the memory of Julius."
"Cursed flatterer!" muttered Michael Angelo in a low voice.
"Come, come, I will take charge of this matter myself," said the Pope.
"You shall only make three statues with your own hand: the rest shall
be given to other sculptors, and I will answer for the Duke of Urbino's
consent. And now, Maestro, to the Sistine Chapel. A great empty wall
is waiting for you there."
What could Michael Angelo reply to such an emphatic wish expressed
so distinctly? He finished in his best style his two statues of Active Life
and _Contemplative Life_--Dante's symbolical Rachel and Leah--and
not wishing to profit by this new arrangement to which he was forced
to submit, he added fifteen hundred and twenty-four ducats to the four
thousand he had received, to pay with his own gains for the works
confided to the other artists.
Having thus terminated this unfortunate affair, which had caused him
so much worry and fatigue, Michael Angelo was at last enabled to
occupy himself exclusively with the execution of his Last Judgment, to
which he devoted no less than eight to nine years.
This immense and unique picture, in which the human figure is
represented in all possible attitudes, where every sentiment, every
passion, every reflection of thought, and every aspiration of the soul are
rendered with inimitable perfection, has never been equalled and never
will be equalled in the domain of Art.

This time the genius of Michael Angelo simply attacked the infinite.
The subject of this vast composition, the manner in which it is
conceived and executed, the admirable variety and the learned
disposition of the groups, the inconceivable boldness and firmness of
the outlines, the contrast of light and shade, the difficulties, I might
almost say the impossibilities vanquished, as if it were all mere play,
and with a happiness that savours of prodigy, the unity of the whole
and the perfection of the details, make The Last Judgment the most
complete and the greatest picture in existence. It is broad and
magnificent in effect, and yet each part of this prodigious painting
gains infinitely when seen and studied quite near; and we do not know
of any easel-picture worked upon with such patience and finished with
such devotion.
The painter could only choose one scene, several isolated groups, in
this appalling drama which will be enacted on the last day in the Valley
of Jehoshaphat, where all the generations of man shall be gathered
together. And yet, admire the omnipotence of genius! With nothing but
a single episode in a restricted space, and solely by the expression of
the human body, the artist has succeeded in striking you with
astonishment and terror, and in making you really a spectator of the
supreme catastrophe.
At the base of the picture, very nearly in the centre, you perceive the
boat of the Inferno, a fantastic reminiscence borrowed from Pagan
tradition, in accordance with which first the poet and then the painter
were pleased to clothe an accursed being with the form and occupation
of Charon.
"Charon with the eyes of burning embers gathering together with a
gesture all these souls, and striking with his oar those who hesitate."[1]
It is impossible to form an idea of the incredible science displayed by
Michael Angelo in the varied contortions of the damned, heaped one
upon the other in the fatal bark. All the violent contractions, all the
visible tortures, all the frightful shrinkings that suffering, despair, and
rage can produce upon human muscles are rendered in this group with a
realism that would make the most callous shudder. To the left of this

bark you see the gaping mouth of a cavern; this is the entrance to
Purgatory, where several demons are in despair because they have no
more souls to torment.
This first group, which very naturally attracts the spectator's attention,
is that of the dead whom the piercing sound of the eternal trumpet has
awakened in their tombs. Some of them shake off their shrouds, others
with great difficulty open their eyelids made heavy by their long sleep.
Towards the angle of the picture there is a monk who is pointing out
the Divine Judge with his left hand; this monk is the portrait of Michael
Angelo.
The second group is formed of the resuscitated ones who ascend of
themselves to the Judgment. These figures, many of which are sublime
in expression, rise more or less lightly into space, according to the
burden of their sins, of which they must render account.
The third group, also ascending to the right of Christ, is that of the
Blessed. Among all these saints, some of whom show the instrument