The following includes a 9-entry compilation of art journal entries I've saved for my extra credit art journal for my Art & Arch class with Dr. Lisot. These entries include my in-depth thoughts and observation of the art and architecture I encountered while wandering about Rome, Greece, Northern Italy and many other places. Some may be repeats from past posts, but here's all the art-related material in one post. There are so many other places I could have written about, but these were among the greatest highlights. I'm really glad I was able to do this art journal. It made what I already wanted to do more of a "requirement." I wanted to write about all of my experiences with art and was so excited to have been able to have done this. The five extra credit points felt like a high-five for doing what I love. Thank you for the opportunity, Dr. Lisot!
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Entry #1: Capitoline Museum Class VisitThe Capitoline Museum was beyond anything I’d ever expected to see. For me, it embodied the perfect cross between Greek and Roman art as I think that the Greek aesthetic impacted the Romans’ artwork. Due to the great number of Roman sculptures that are copies of earlier Greek sculptures, it seems that the Romans appreciated Greek art and were inspired to carry on the tradition.
Every floor of the Capitoline Museum was like an artist’s playground. Every turn promised something spectacular. One of my favorite rooms was the Palazzo dei Conservatori where we had our Art & Architecture lecture. In that room was the famed bronze Equestrian Statue of Marcus Aurelius, dating back to 175 A.D. Back in the day, when people were destroying statues of the pagan emperors and dictators, it was not melted down because people thought it was a statue of Constantine, the respected emperor who had legalized Christianity. As it turned out, it was actually a statue of Marcus Aurelius. One big hint of this is that statues of Constantine usually depict him as a beardless man, but the man on this statue has a full beard. He was pretty fortunate to have escaped demolition. I had studied this statue previously in our Art & Arch I class back in Irving for freshman year, but to see it now was absolutely mind-blowing. Just looking at the statue made me marvel at how much detail can go into bronze.
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| Equestrian Statue of Marcus Aurelius |
I thought similarly of the Etruscan bronze She-Wolf (500 B.C.) located just a few paces away. The patterns and textures of the fur, particularly around the neck, were among the most exquisite I’d ever seen in a bronze sculpture. I could even see the ribs underneath the skin of the She-Wolf. It was very admirable to see how much care the artist put into the sculpture, making a piece of bronze look so believable. Although the Romulus and Remus statues beneath the She-Wolf were made in the late fifteenth century by Pollaiolo, they fit into the piece very well. It’s pretty incredible how something so simple became the symbol of Rome.
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| She-Wolf |
Commodus as Hercules
My absolute favorite part of the museum was the Palazzo Nuovo which was lined with nothing but marble statues. It was in one of these rooms that I finally met the Hellenistic Dying Gaul (230 B.C.) He was incredibly made, life size, and the pose was very convincing. I really admired how his weight was distributed and how his muscles suggested that he was summoning the last of his strength to take his final breaths. It seems that the artist intended the Gaul’s facial expression to provoke feelings of sympathy from the viewer as they watch him fade. And you know what, it worked. I could almost see the Gaul taking his final breath and prepare to collapse forward in a twisted position.
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| Dying Gaul |
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Entry #2: Ara Pacis Class Visit
Ah yes, the famous Ara Pacis on the field of Mars. Augustus really had taste! This altar had some really amazing reliefs, some areas of which contained such small detail I would have missed it had Dr. Lisot not pointed it out, like the baby bird jumping out of the next to escape the snake. The three big panels on there included Aeneas’ sacrifice, the family line of Augustus, and my favorite panel, Tellus, the earth goddess with presumably Romulus and Remus seated on her lap with two nymphs flanking her and a cow and sheep at her feet. I think I’ve come to like organic-themed art since this one captured my interest so quickly. Here goes the formal analysis…
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| Tellus Panel |
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Entry #3: The Temples in Paestum
After our trip along the Amalfi coast, we made a visit to the Archeological site of Paestum where we visited Temple of Hera I and II. They look even bigger and better in real life than they did in the textbook. Both temples were very similar in that they had Doric columns, but Temple of Hera II actually had an entablature, metopes and friezes. It’s really amazing at how well-preserved these temples are. They have so much detail left in them. I could almost see the ancient Romans going in and out of the temples, worshiping the cult statues.
Following a few on-site lectures and lots of pictures, we were able to visit the Paestum Archaeological Museum and saw more ancient artifacts. It was really something.
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Entry #4: The Cappuccin Bone Church
A couple of my friends and I went into Rome with no particular plan except to explore. Turns out as soon as we came out of the metro at the Palazzo Barberini, we arrived right in front of the Museum of the Cappuccin Monks and the Bone Crypt. On a whim, decided to go check it out. The museum featured paintings, artifacts and histories of the Cappuccin monks. The paintings in particular captured the poverty, piety and love of the Cappuccins. Many of them featured monks holding crucifixes, or gazing heavenward in contemplation, maybe with an open book (most likely the Bible) in hand. Everything was just breathtaking, and the stories of these monks, many of whom are saints, were just beautiful. My particular favorite was the famous St. Padre Pio.
The highlight of it all was the Crypt of Bones, which felt like a dimension all its own. The entire crypt was decorated with the bones of the deceased Cappuccin monks. As eerie, gross and creepy as it may sound initially, it was actually a very cosmic, peaceful experience. I was probably just as slack-jawed as I was in St. Peter’s (these Catholic places are really good at doing that to you). The crypt made me realize how dead to the world these monks were and how the life in this world is passing and has no comparison to the spiritual, eternal life that awaits us after death. The experience of seeing all those bones will serve as a reminder that we must be dead to the world, live in the world, and never be of the world and devote ourselves to the service of God, regardless of our personal vocation in the world.
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| Bone Crypt of the Cappuccin Monks |
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Before leaving Italy, we made a visit to St. Nicholas’ relics (yes, THE Santa) located in a lovely church in Bari. Let’s stop to smell the flowers for a moment, literally! Phenomenon goes that if you go up to where St. Nicholas’ relics are kept and take a sniff, you’ll smell roses. No one knows exactly why. Sure enough, that’s exactly what we smelled. Pretty miraculous! Another really cool painting was in the crypt, which featured St. Nicholas smacking Airus during the council.
The next day, after arriving in Greece by boat, we visited Dodona, an archaeological site with a theater and several temples (or at least their remaining foundations), including a temple to Hercules and I believe there was one to Hera and to Venus. We stopped for lunch in Metsovo before moving on to Meteora, where visited an orthodox monastery. This monastery, along with at least for or five others, are nestled safely atop some unbelievable cliffs. You’ve never, and I mean NEVER, seen cliffs like these. It was so peaceful there and the sound of the wind in the cliffs was unlike any wind I’d ever heard. I think most of us left that place thinking, “I want to be a monk/nun.”
We spend the remainder of the following day (half of it was traveling) in the amazing city of Delphi. We explored the historical sites on Mount Parnassus, including the temple to Apollo where the Pythia herself would sit, inhale the vapors coming out of the ground (those weren’t there anymore), and give the oracle of the god Apollo. The size of the temples surprised me as I was not expecting them to be so huge. I think that Delphi’s archaeological site was the perfect compilation of all the types of architecture in the ancient Greek world.
The next morning visited the museum in Delphi where we saw lots of archaic and some classical sculpture and artwork. We left Delphi and moved on to Athens, but not before stopping at Hosios Loukas, an Eastern Orthodox Monastery. If there was one lesson we learned about the difference between the Eastern and Western parts of the Catholic Church on that trip, it was in 3 words by Fr. Thomas: East. West. Schism! It was great. It was incredible exploring the church with Byzantine-esque mosaics with golden tesserae. Within the iconography, we learned how the positioning of the fingers of Christ’s blessing hand represented his two divine natures (divine and man) and the trinity. The Eastern churches really have some of the most exquisite mosaics I’ve ever seen.
Later that same day we arrived in Athens, where we visited the Pnyx and the Areopagus, where I was able to participate in a student reenactment of a section of Aeschylus’ greek Tragedy, Eumenides (lines 674-807 if you’re interested). I played the part of Orestes. The view of Athens was stunning from our high-up location. The next day we explored the Agora temples, Hephaestus’ temple, where the Greek hero Theseus is supposedly buried. Our whole class successfully made a human chain around it. We continued on to the Agora Museum to check out all of the ancient pottery, which included a whole variety of red figure and black figure techniques as well as geometric techniques. Next came the Acropolis where we visited the oh-so-famous Parthenon, and the theater of Dionysus. I have to say it was pretty epic standing so close to such an amazing building, even if a lot of it was restored. Even to think for a moment that the olive tree of Athena was still preserved was just mind blowing. I think it was at this point in the Greece trip that I actually believed for a moment that the ancient gods and goddesses may have actually existed (although under the authority of God almighty).
The next day we visited the National Archaeological Museum in Athens, which featured some of the most incredible Greek artwork you’ve ever seen, including some familiar faces and places I’d studied back in Irving, like the Zeus/Poseidon bronze sculpture (who has really amazing arms that I want to integrate into a formal painting or drawing sometime in the future), and the Spring Fresco. This was the ancient artist’s playground! So many amazing pieces to look at. I swept through the entire museum in about 2 hours time, which is simply not enough time to enjoy everything. It was so sad whizzing through so many amazing rooms, but I did stop every once in awhile to stop and gaze at my favorite pieces. Ancient art never ceases to amaze me. After that trip, we moved on to Mycenae and visited the Lion’s Gate and Tomb of Clytemnestra. That, next to Delphi, was probably one of my most favorite archaeological sites of the visit. The view from the top of the site was, once again, jaw dropping. No wonder Agamemnon chose this site for his headquarters. The beehive-shaped tombs were pretty amazing as well. I was astonished at the acoustics in there, because as two of the students were beginning part of their re-enactment of Aristophanes’ The Frogs, it sounded as if we had a high quality sound system in there as their voices carried along the curves of the tomb. It was a great place to watch a play.
After staying in Napflion overnight, we visited the archeological site of Epidaurus a half hour drive away, the site of the Sanctuary of Asclepius the god of healing in the ancient Greek world and home to the extremely famous theater of Epidaurus. In this huge theater which seats…oh, I think it was something like 50,000 people, there is a disc in the center of the gravely stage on the ground and if you stand on that disc, tilt your head up and speak, the result is phenomenal. Your voice carries perfectly through the entire theater so that every seat can hear you and you can even hear your own voice bounce back at you, not like a super delayed echo, but like a slight microphone echo, but cooler! Why? Because you don’t need a microphone to sound cool in Epidaurus! I didn’t know what to say, so since it was still morning time I stuck with the morning greeting in Greek: “Kalimera!” That was about the coolest thing ever, hearing my voice jump right back to me. My reaction was pretty priceless too. I quickly and shyly walked away from the disc with my hand over my mouth and my eyes wide open, “Whoa! That was incredible,” was all I could say. The symmetry of the theater was gorgeous and it was in considerably good shape given its age. I’d love to go back and holler there again.
Before leaving Napflion the next day, we stopped to visit Alexander the Great’s Palamede Fortress overlooking the sea and Nafplion. It’s a great place for pictures and lots of cool steps and tunnels. We even found a cramped stone dungeon which we easily fit into, but it was horribly stuffy in there. It must have been absolutely miserable for the prisoners there. Outside on the ramparts, several times, I pictured Alexander the Great’s guards stationed in the various watch towers and posts along the edges of the fortress and wondered what their day would have been like, looking over the land and sea day after day.
When we arrived in Olympia that same day, we visited the Archaeological museum there for awhile and it was really great. It was incredible to see the curse on the house of Atrius come to life on what used to be in the pediments of these grand temples. It was especially interesting because that was what we had been studying for Lit. Trad. III. I’m really going to miss seeing all this amazing artwork in real life.
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Entry #6: Colosseum Class Visit
At last! I’ve come to one of the most historical icons of Rome: The Colosseum (a.k.a. Flavian Amphitheater), built by one of the Flavians, namely Vespasian, dating back to the 70-80 A.D. It wasn’t as big as I originally thought it would be, but it was, nevertheless, HUGE! As Dr. Lisot gave us our Art & Arch lecture on the history of the Colosseum, I scanned the expanse of the Colosseum, imagining hundreds of thousands of Roman citizens sitting in the bleachers, screaming and cheering at the tops of their lungs, thirsting for the sport of blood. It must have been an incredibly wild madhouse.
From where our class stood in the amphitheater, it seems that from the point of view of the raving audience, the gladiators and animals far below would have appeared to be the size of ants. It made me appreciate the huge TV screens that we have at concerts and basketball games so that we can see the performers up close. From the center of the amphitheater, however, a gladiator must have felt a rush of thrill upon stepping out to see the roaring crowds. This moment would determine either the glory of victory or the humiliation of defeat. I can only imagine the pressure that was added by the crowd’s roars while a gladiator was in combat. On the other hand, if there had been a Christian who was about to be martyred, he or she might humanly feel an initial surge of fear, but by the grace of God, they would be able to die willingly and peacefully, knowing that their witness to Christ would be an example to all the onlookers. It makes me wonder how many conversions to Christianity may have taken place in the Colosseum. Maybe the conversions had not been immediate, but God’s grace can always work in a person’s heart over time.
Looking at the Colosseum, I wonder what the acoustics must have been like during its prime. I was tempted to test out current acoustics with a holler, but I kept my peace. I took a closer look at the architecture, noting the triangular brick wedges used with the cement, which was a fairly new Roman invention, consisting of a mixture of sand, soil and water. The building pattern was unlike anything I’d ever seen used in architecture, but it was interesting. For it to have lasted so many years without falling apart is phenomenal.
Brick detail inside the Colosseum
The outside of the Colosseum was, of course, my favorite part. The care put into the building of this architectural wonder was evident. One thing I found particularly interesting about it (something I had discovered on my own) was that it had every type of column on it. At the bottom were the Doric order, second level were the Ionic order, third level were the Corinthian, and on the fourth level were the engaged Corinthian pilaster columns. It made me think of the evolution of the column over the years, with the Doric being on the simplest column, and the Corinthian being the highest, most sophisticated column. In a way, it corresponded to the advancement of the Roman Empire over the years.
The Colosseum
Vespasian’s architectural feat remains as one of my all-time favorite monuments of the ancient world. It serves as a personal reminder for me to turn every piece of art I make into something memorable and beautiful. Thanks for the inspiration, Vespasian!
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Entry #7: Vatican Museum Class Trip
Oh, where to begin with the Vatican Museum? So much to see, so little time. Actually, a surprising number of items we were studying in Art & Arch were kept at the Vatican Museum. Since there were so many and I have limited time to discuss them, I will mention just a few:
Laocoön
So, here is Michelangelo’s big inspiration/eureka for his artistic career. I’d have to agree with him on this one (but I still have a special love for his David). Laocoö
n and his sons are definitely one of the best pieces of Classical sculpture that I’ve ever seen, especially in that twisting torso of Laocoö
n himself. Really, his entire anatomy is brilliantly done as every muscle is contracting in response to the strain and the pain of the snake’s bite. Similarly are his sons as they helplessly struggle to free themselves from the coils of the snake as it wraps itself about their bodies. I like how the snake’s long body keeps the viewer’s eye moving about the sculpture, holding their interest. Even so, I have to feel sorry for Laocoö
n and his sons, especially when their faces express so much pain and terror. Then again, they did mock the gods, so I guess they deserved it. Anyway, due to time constraints, I am unable to sketch the Laocoö
n right now, but rest assured, I will do so the minute the fall semester is over. I will bring the memory of Rome back home with me by drawing every Classical sculpture I can find with Laocoö
n at the top of the list. I can hardly wait!
Laocoön
School of Athens: Ah, now here’s a favorite! Every time I look at Raphael’s School of Athens (1509-11), I get all excited and inspired to learn and study. I mean, all of the coolest people in history are all together in this painting at the same time. If I could equate this to contemporary times, it would be something like Comic Con, where there is a mega-mashup of all of the character in all of the movies, books and videogames in existence. From a UD perspective though, this is even better! I like how busy the fresco is, with the hustling and bustling of all of these brilliant minds, all talking and debating with each other the way UD students usually do. There’s a perfect mix of teaching and learning going on throughout the image, which is why I find it so inspiring. An interesting thing I noted when observing this for the first time in real life at the Stanza della Segnatura was that there was a man leaning casually against the right wall (on Aristotle’s side), with one leg crossed over the other knee as he jots something down in his book. This was definitely an unexpected pose for a scene like this, but still, I like how studious the whole image feels.
School of Athens
Sistine Chapel
Last Judgment: I don’t know what Michelangelo was saying when he said that he wasn’t a painter. His paintings had my jaw on the floor. As requested by Dr. Lisot, when I first walked into the Sistine Chapel, I looked over my shoulder and up at the massive Last Judgment (1533-41) fresco that covered the wall where the altar was located. It was even bigger and grander than I had imagined. It captured the awesomeness of Our Lord and the chaos of the division between the souls worthy of heaven and the souls doomed for eternal fire in hell. The whole fresco made me feel very small and it was really overwhelming, but I think that Michelangelo intended for both to be the case as a reminder to the viewer of how small they are in comparison to the glory of God and of what everyone will have to face at the end of time.
Sistine Chapel Ceiling (1508-12): This was particularly brilliant! The figures looked so three-dimensional, they literally popped out of the ceiling. No photo or print could capture the true beauty and colors of the paintings. My favorite fresco was the Creation of Adam. It seems to illustrate the intimate relationship God has with all of his created ones. Actually, the depictions of the early Old Testament, especially the ones of the Creation and Adam and Eve, made me think about how amazing it is that we are made in the image of God and of how unfathomable His love is for us. He made the world for us, he made us who we are, and he made Michelangelo a master in painting. I love how all these things connect! After seeing the Sistine Chapel, I’ve found that my Catholic Faith makes me appreciate art more (especially pieces like this), and that art enhances my love for my Faith. The whole Sistine Chapel experience was not to be missed! It was a spectacular ending to a great afternoon at the Vatican Museum.
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Entry #8: Accademia Class Visit in Florence, Italy
So I’ve always marveled at Michelangelo’s sculptures, even when I was a kid. To me, his work expresses artistic beauty in its rawest form and his sculpture David (1501-04) is the pinnacle of that beauty. I’d already been familiar with dozens of pictures of David, but when I first saw him in real life at the Accademia in Florence, Italy, I was blown away by how much more glorious he looked. He was everything I’d expected and more.
David was absolutely magnificent to behold. He had an idealized body with perfect proportions and anatomy. His skin, though marble, appeared smooth and soft to the touch. A shocking amount of detail had been employed into the sculpture. The muscles throughout his body could be seen through his flesh, all firm and tense as he prepared to face the invisible Goliath. Based on past sculptures and paintings by Michelangelo, it seems evident that Michelangelo’s favorite part of the body to carve was the torso. He has included a great deal of detail in David’s torso, ensuring that no muscle is overlooked. His arms and legs, though muscular, have beautiful curves. Even the bone joints in his elbows, knees, wrists, ankles, and fingers can be made out. His body is so tense with anticipation that his tendons are visible through his skin, especially in his neck and hands, which are incredibly large when compared with his face. I was most surprised to discover the pulsing veins in his large hands. That completely blew me away. The detail on David is unbelievable! I mean, I could literally see the energy building up, almost as if the statue were about to move.
David (Michelangelo)
I had never looked closely at David’s facial expression until this visit to the Accademia. Just as Michelangelo would employ “terribilita” (a face that expressed awesomeness and fierceness so as to almost strike fear into the viewer) into his God figure in the Sistine Chapel just a few years later, he used it here on David’s face. Even from my place far below, it was difficult to make out the fullness of the expression, but when I saw a more eye-leveled view on a postcard in the gift shop, I was amazed at how intense Michelangelo had made David’s face.
David (face detail)
I think of Michelangelo’s David as the pinnacle of perfection in the human figure (sorry, Laocoö
n). It has been my ultimate inspiration for my desire to master the art of drawing the human figure. I am still awestruck at Michelangelo’s craft every time I see this sculpture. Furthermore, the piece revealed the splendor of the human body and how beautiful and sacred God created it. Michelangelo certainly understood this and frankly, I believe it too. Don’t let any other giggling student tell you otherwise because they obviously haven’t seen the piece through the lens of God and art. Still, to this day, it is a wondrous marvel at how one man could have sculpted something so perfect. I aspire ever higher…
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Entry #9: Villa Borghese Class Trip
The Borghese trip was probably among my most anticipated class trips of the semester (nice way to end it too). Why? Bernini’s works are there! Since my section’s lecture was going last, I decided to explore the Borghese using the guide Dr. Lisot gave us. It’s a beautiful gallery lined with dozens upon dozens of paintings and sculptures. Naturally, the Caravaggio and Raphael paintings were my favorites. The highlights of the museum were the sculptures by Bernini.
I first saw Bernini’s life-size marble rendition of David (1623). Bernini’s technique was flawless. He had captured the moment when David was reeling back, twisting his body and pulling his slingshot taut in preparation to slay Goliath. David was well-proportioned and idealized to perfection. Every inch of his body revealed his tense muscles, which reminded me of Michelangelo’s David, only this time, a great deal of action was taking place. That’s what I like about Bernini’s sculptures: they all have a sense of motion so that you almost expect the figure to make their next move. In this piece, it literally looked like David was taking a sidestep forward and was having to pull against the opposing force of his slingshot. The line and texture used in his wavy hair added to that sense of forward motion. Speaking of textures, the armor that was placed behind David’s right leg contained beautiful textures as did his harp. David’s facial expression was just awesome! The faces I usually see in sculpture are plain and relaxed, filled with sorrow or pain, or else they are happy. I’ve run into very few angry or determined faces. This one definitely shines brightest in my book. Another likable thing about Bernini’s sculptures is that you have to walk around them to appreciate them in their entirety. I must have circled this piece at least three or four times, walking slower and slower each time to appreciate the beauty of this piece.
David (Bernini)
Heading into the next room, I ran into Bernini’s incredible Apollo and Daphne (1622). Just when I thought I’d seen the best that Baroque-style sculpture had to offer (I’d also seen his Ecstasy of St. Teresa at Santa Maria della Victoria), I was proven wrong. Apollo and Daphne took my breath away. Bernini brought the mythological scene of Daphne being turned into a tree and Apollo chasing her to life. He had captured the moment when Daphne is beginning to sprout leaves, roots and have tree bark envelop her body while Apollo pursues her from behind, swinging an arm around and catching her by the waist/belly. Again, I love the sense of motion incorporated into the sculpture. Both figures have a forward action while things like hair and cloth fly backward. There was a sense of twisting and ascending into the air, even though the piece was grounded. Bernini really captured the human form beautifully on both figures and gave a gorgeous contrast on how he depicts a young male and female form in one piece.
Apollo and Daphne
The amount of detail incorporated into this sculpture was not to be believed. The individual leaves and the billowing cloak on Apollo were all so thin, I could see the light shining right through them. Those particular sections of the piece looked so dainty and fragile that I expected to find areas where the leaves had been broken off. I found none. How could it be possible for such a piece to survive for so many years without suffering any loss? And even more extraordinary is the fact that the entire piece was constructed out of one piece of marble. ONE PIECE! How is that even possible with all of the detail? And Bernini was in his mid-twenties when he sculpted this! I’m sorry Michelangelo. You have some really phenomenal sculptures, but Bernini just raised the bar with this piece. This one is going down in history to be one of my all-time favorite sculptures.
Oh, but things just got better in the next room in which Dr. Lisot gave the lecture on Bernini’s Rape of Proserpine (Pluto and Persephone) (1621). What an incredible piece! The action…the drama…the realistic flesh…it was by far (alongside Apollo and Daphne) the most advanced sculpture I had ever encountered. Once again, sculpting from a single piece of marble, Bernini had caught the figures right in the middle of the action, with Pluto gleefully swiping a frightened Persephone off her feet as she pushes vainly against him to get away. Even Cerberus, the three-headed hound of the underworld was there, although he was much less menacing than Pluto. As in all of the previous Bernini pieces, the detail employed into the piece was masterfully done. I could make out every powerful muscle in Pluto’s body and the flailing hair of Persephone. Like Apollo and Daphne, there was a sense of twisting in the sculpture, with the turning of Pluto’s torso, the tossing back of Persephone’s head, her flailing arms, her hair, and even the flying fabric, which even made a kind of corkscrewed twist on the back view of the piece. This particular piece employed so much detail in emotional expression, particularly in Persephone’s face. I saw the open-mouthed expression of fear and despair consume her young face. Even a tear spilled from her eye. I found myself moved with pity for Persephone, who had never known such evil until now. It even made me angry at Pluto for destroying the innocent girl’s virginity.
Rape of Proserpine (Pluto and Persephone)
One particular spot that I just marveled at was the area where Pluto’s hands are grasping Persephone’s thigh and waist. The muscles in his hands are very convincing, but even more convincing is the way Bernini made his fingers appear to sink into the softness of Persephone’s skin. Even when I re-angled myself, Pluto’s fingers began to disappear into her thigh as it would if it were real flesh. I consider this a divine feat on Bernini’s part. And he was only twenty-three when he sculpted this? I’d imagine that he must have had the help of angels as the illuminators did with the Book of Kells. This seems too perfect to be the work of man’s hands. If there were Seven Wonders of the World in art, this sculpture would definitely claim a space in my book, as would Apollo and Daphne. I could go on an on, praising Bernini’s work…
Rape of Proserpine (detail)
As it was with Michelangelo’s David, Bernini’s work inspired me to reaching an even higher level of perfection in mastering the human figure. But to sculpt like Bernini, it seems unreachable. That doesn’t mean I can’t try. All things considered, Bernini just might be the greatest sculptor of all time!
