“From such a gentle thing, from such a fountain of all delight, my every pain is born.”
- Michelangelo
Gentle and reverently compassionate, Michelangelo’s gaze casts a shadow of love and sweet passion combined with a knowing and solemn expression over his last Pietà. Perhaps the most powerful piece I have seen so far, this sculpture is my favorite. This Pietà is composed of four figures: Mary and Mary Magdalene supporting the dead, crucified body of Jesus, with Nicodemus above, who bears the likeness of Michelangelo himself. It is the last sculpture Michelangelo worked on and is one of his non finito, or unfinished pieces, because he died before it was completed. I have been longing to see it and finally had the chance this weekend when I returned to Florence and visited the Museo dell’Opera del Duomo.
Part of the reason the sculpture is so powerful and emotional is because of the time in his life that Michelangelo carved it. He was an old man growing older, and the knowledge of his approaching death was only made increasingly aware to him as he chiseled away at the marble block that was to become his tombstone. At points he was also extremely frustrated with the less-than-perfect marble and, pushed to the edge, beat it with a hammer, doing significant damage. Later, one of his apprentices tried to repair the damage but there are still very visible cracks on Christ’s arm and leg, reminding viewers of the physical effort required to carve marble and the difficulties this posed for an aging sculptor.
As soon as my eyes met Michelangelo’s in Nicodemus’ face, I was drawn in and must have stayed in the little room the Pietà inhabits for half an hour. It was one of those times that some invisible force maintains silence and forbids you to speak. I felt as if words would interfere with the reverent scene and, even if I wanted to speak, nothing I could think of to say could remotely compete with the profundity of what each of the figures were saying with their eyes and faces and still movements.
At first I thought it strange that Michelangelo would choose to include Nicodemus in the scene and that he would carve in him his own face. However, information in the museum explained this a little, suggesting that Michelangelo chose Nicodemus because both had a conversion experience later in life. In the Bible, Nicodemus was a Jewish Pharisee who came to Jesus one night. In their conversation, Jesus told him that he needed to be “born again” (John 3:3). Nicodemus was understandably confused, asking “How can someone be born when they are old?...Surely they cannot enter a second time into their mother’s womb to be born!” (John 3:4). However, Jesus explained this second birth is of the Spirit, a new eternal life given to those who believe in Jesus. This spiritual birth is something both Nicodemus and Michelangelo seem to share, and this comparison adds even more depth to a piece that is already an incredibly personal reflection.
I don’t know if I will ever get tired of looking at this Pietà, even though the intimate interactions between all of the figures almost make me feel like an intruder. There is something about Michelangelo’s expression—passion and grave knowledge, a tender compassion and acceptance—as he looks down on the death of Christ and anticipates his own death, that intrigues and mystifies me.
Do some research into why the artist felt he had a bond with Nicodemus. Michelangelo's relationships with the church and certain Popes have a rich history but have at their core the struggle between Catholic and Protestant beliefs, one accepting acts of charity and good will combined with faith and the other accepting only faith as the key to eternal life. Both Nicodemus and Michelangelo struggled with this too, not understanding or being able to accept the latter. Hence perhaps the portrayal in the last pieta. Thank for posting this.
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