Michelangelo, God's Architect
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My summer reading so far includes William E. Wallace’s book Michelangelo, God’s Architect. It’s worth sharing; let me tell you why.
In the beginning Wallace explains that he’s interested in the physical realities of art & architecture, in addition to the traditional concerns of fine art. He writes: “Art is first and foremost about stuff… Art is about obtaining materials, moving them, working them, and moving them again…. Architecture in particular requires an inordinate amount of labor and time” (p.4). I like this agenda because it acknowledges that architecture is a contingent and collaborative practice, a fact often ignored when buildings are discussed by art historians.
For much of the book, Wallace uses this sensibility (plus decades of research) to construct a different view of Michelangelo, one which adds great depth to the common portrayals. He describes Michelangelo as a true master builder, significantly more accomplished in matters of logistics and engineering than his predecessors were. For instance, his redesign for St. Peter’s Basilica brilliantly added four massive external piers with helical ramps within, for donkeys and mules to haul materials up to the base of the drum of the dome. “Eventually, even some of the most resistant workers realized that Michelangelo understood how to organize a building site” (p.77). He “astonished the entrenched supervisors with his grasp of detail and his ability to maintain oversight of the complete project” (p.78).
All of which is illuminating but not radical. But the book builds to a passage which I found breathtaking, thrilling in its intellectual sweep and rapid pace. (You don’t say ‘breathtaking, thrilling’ about architectural history-writing very often.) The tour-de-force passage is a succession of 72 questions which Michelangelo must have been holding in his mind simultaneously. Some are compound questions as you’ll see below. Here are some excerpts to give a sense of the content, but without reproducing the entire section I won’t capture the full effect of Wallace’s wonderfully composed measures:
(1) How much travertine was needed to construct the eighteen buttresses and thirty-six columns encircling the drum of the dome;
(8) how much would it cost;
(9) how much should Michelangelo worry about the cost;
(10) how much would the pope worry about the cost;
(23) was there enough rope, and was it good rope;
(26) how much animal shit would be deposited there [in the helical ramps inside the piers], and should someone be hired to clean the slippery ramps daily or weekly, and should straw be laid down to ensure good footing;
(42) how much mortar would be required, and how long should it be slaked;
(49) were there enough laborers, working long enough hours, at a good enough wage;
(67) how many lives would be lost;
(70) would the pope live long enough;
(71) would Michelangelo live long enough;
(72) Could he, as architect of God’s church, fulfill God’s expectations?
Note: In the book these questions are not numbered, but strung together with semi-colons, with a few key paragraph breaks. It starts on p.191.
