Statue Pietá - Vatican City
Posted by: Ariberna
N 41° 54.136 E 012° 27.309
33T E 288911 N 4642057
The most famous statue-artefact here
Waymark Code: WM13X44
Location: Vatican City State
Date Posted: 03/05/2021
Views: 6
"When Michelangelo received the commission from Cardinal Jean de Bilhères, Charles VIII's ambassador, to carry out a ‘Piedad’ (Mary with her dead son), he was only 22 years old. The sculpture was destined for the tomb of the cardinal in the Chapel of Santa Petronila of the old Basilica of San Pedro. It is the month of November, 1497. He had arrived in Rome the previous year to give explanations to Cardinal Riario about a certain sculpture of Cupid sold as from Roman times. A ‘slip’ that became, through Jacopo Galli, the admiration and origin of several commissions. The most important and famous is this Pieta, the only work that will bear his signature. Then, spreading his fame, he won't need it. The young Michelangelo will personally go to Carrara to choose the block of marble and will accompany him on his journey to Rome. And from those mountains to this summit. Maria is sitting on a rock but it is she herself who looks like a mountain. Beginning and end. As at the beginning of her in her entrails, of lava, a son is formed also now she is, equally young, the lap in which to fall dead, a land of fertile ashes for this seed. She is strong, a delicate rock, the mountain to go to to get closer to heaven and converse with God who makes himself felt in the intimate cavity of a cave like a whisper, like a breeze. Down here, instead, the voice of thunder and storm is heard. There she sits up there, in the darkest hour, there is light, shelter and serene calm. Here, you can still feel the earthquake that slices the veil of the temple and uncovers the tombstones. There, even her naked body does not seem helpless, as if it were covered by a veil of pity and affection more real than the folds of her dress. Down here, descending in the century to the mud, to the cold, the nakedness and the pain, tears start again, an emotion that immerses us in time and raises hands and screams. Up there an always young voice remains with the last word, silent, in the mouth and in the hands. Everything is written."
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