of his youthful years, refers to this
period the painted copy made by the young draughtsman from a
copper-plate of Martin Schöngauer. We should probably be right in
supposing that the anecdote is slightly antedated. I give it, however, as
nearly as possible in the biographer's own words. "Granacci happened
to show him a print of S. Antonio tormented by the devils. This was the
work of Martino d'Olanda, a good artist for the times in which he lived;
and Michelangelo transferred the composition to a panel. Assisted by
the same friend with colours and brushes, he treated his subject in so
masterly a way that it excited surprise in all who saw it, and even envy,
as some say, in Domenico, the greatest painter of his age. In order to
diminish the extraordinary impression produced by this picture,
Ghirlandajo went about saying that it came out of his own workshop, as
though he had some part in the performance. While engaged on this
piece, which, beside the figure of the saint, contained many strange
forms and diabolical monstrosities, Michelangelo coloured no
particular without going first to Nature and comparing her truth with
his fancies. Thus he used to frequent the fish-market, and study the
shape and hues of fishes' fins, the colour of their eyes, and so forth in
the case of every part belonging to them; all of which details he
reproduced with the utmost diligence in his painting." Whether this
transcript from Schöngauer was made as early as Condivi reports may,
as I have said, be reasonably doubted. The anecdote is interesting,
however, as showing in what a naturalistic spirit Michelangelo began to
work. The unlimited mastery which he acquired over form, and which
certainly seduced him at the close of his career into a stylistic
mannerism, was based in the first instance upon profound and patient
interrogation of reality.
IV
Lodovico perceived at length that it was useless to oppose his son's
natural bent. Accordingly, he sent him into Ghirlandajo's workshop. A
minute from Ghirlandajo's ledger, under the date 1488, gives
information regarding the terms of the apprenticeship. "I record this
first of April how I, Lodovico di Lionardo di Buonarrota, bind my son
Michelangelo to Domenico and Davit di Tommaso di Currado for the
next three ensuing years, under these conditions and contracts: to wit,
that the said Michelangelo shall stay with the above-named masters
during this time, to learn the art of painting, and to practise the same,
and to be at the orders of the above-named; and they, for their part,
shall give to him in the course of these three years twenty-four florins
(_fiorini di suggello_): to wit, six florins in the first year, eight in the
second, ten in the third; making in all the sum of ninety-six pounds
(_lire_)." A postscript, dated April 16th of the same year, 1488, records
that two florins were paid to Michelangelo upon that day.
It seems that Michelangelo retained no very pleasant memory of his
sojourn with the Ghirlandajo brothers. Condivi, in the passage
translated above, hints that Domenico was jealous of him. He proceeds
as follows: "This jealousy betrayed itself still more when Michelangelo
once begged the loan of a certain sketch-book, wherein Domenico had
portrayed shepherds with their flocks and watchdogs, landscapes,
buildings, ruins, and such-like things. The master refused to lend it; and
indeed he had the fame of being somewhat envious; for not only
showed he thus scant courtesy toward Michelangelo, but he also treated
his brother likewise, sending him into France when he saw that he was
making progress and putting forth great promise; and doing this not so
much for any profit to David, as that he might himself remain the first
of Florentine painters. I have thought fit to mention these things,
because I have been told that Domenico's son is wont to ascribe the
genius and divinity of Michelangelo in great part to his father's
teaching, whereas the truth is that he received no assistance from that
master. I ought, however, to add that Michelangelo does not complain:
on the contrary, he praises Domenico both as artist and as man."
This passage irritated Vasari beyond measure. He had written his first
Life of Michelangelo in 1550. Condivi published his own modest
biography in 1553, with the expressed intention of correcting errors and
supplying deficiencies made by "others," under which vague word he
pointed probably at Vasari. Michelangelo, who furnished Condivi with
materials, died in 1564; and Vasari, in 1568, issued a second enlarged
edition of the Life, into which he cynically incorporated what he chose
to steal from Condivi's sources. The supreme Florentine sculptor being
dead and buried, Vasari felt that he was safe in giving the lie direct to
this humble rival biographer. Accordingly, he spoke as
Continue reading on your phone by scaning this QR Code
Tip: The current page has been bookmarked automatically. If you wish to continue reading later, just open the
Dertz Homepage, and click on the 'continue reading' link at the bottom of the page.