Professor Butter Beard and Michelangelo’s “Study of a Young Man Rising”
“He had come to that time in his life (it varies for every man) when a human being gives himself over to his demon or to his genius, according to a mysterious law which orders him either to destroy or to surpass himself.” – Marguerite Yourcenar, Belgian-born French novelist and essayist
I often wonder. Have I reached that twist on my journey? This past birthday’s realities interrupt my daybreak meditations like a little Poppin’ Fresh demon giggle-whispering in my ear before I can swat him away like a summer mosquito. And then Nellie offers an encouraging lick-kiss, either to encourage my soul, or to seductively remind me that she could use another chance to pee.
This year, the words of my mentor Michelangelo resonate deep within me with a bit more clarity. “I know that you realize from my writing that I am at the eleventh hour,” he wrote, “and that I conceive of no thought in which Death is not engraved. God grant that I may keep him waiting for another year or two.” And he did. In fact, after writing these thoughts to Vittoria Colonna, he went on to live for another twenty-five years and create some of his most extraordinary achievements.
A current exhibition at the British Museum in London takes a look at Michelangelo’s final phase, starting with his return to Rome from Florence in 1534, at age 59. It was during this period that he finished his work on “The Last Judgement,” the Sistine Chapel altar walls towering fresco, and also managed to remake the Vatican with a series of architectural projects including the dome of St. Peter’s Basilica.
In 1544, the master received an exuberant letter from the writer Pietro Aretino, who had recently admired “The Last Judgement.” Within the letter, he proclaimed that Michelangelo was obviously in possession of “divine intellect.” According to Sarah Vowles, co-curator of the exhibition, this compliment was, “in part, the work of flattery, because Aretino had high hopes of persuading Michelangelo to part with one of his drawings, but it nevertheless demonstrates that Michelangelo was already phenomenon.” Even the mere scrap of paper from his hand was a desirable possession.
And these drawings form the core of the British Museum’s exhibition.
Michelangelo created numerous preparatory drawings for his fresco of “The Last Judgement,” as he had to be fully settled with the composition of the body before beginning to paint on the wet plaster. His “Study of a Young Man Rising,” which I believe to be one of his most powerful, displays his continuing fascination with the male human form and shows off his ability to depict the body in dramatic poses. His extensive studies of anatomy, both from observing live models and the dissection of available corpses, pay off with an absolute understanding of muscle and tissue. This man, braced on bent arms, appears as one of the souls rising from their tombs at the bottom of the finished masterpiece.
In a second personal favorite, the arrogant Phaeton, son of the sun-god Helios, falls from his father’s chariot after losing control of the massive horses. Zeus aims a thunderbolt from the top of the drawing while, below, Phaeton’s weeping sisters are transformed into trees. Historians believe this is a preparatory study for one of the highly finished drawings Michelangelo made for his young friend Tommaso de’Cavalieri, for whom he nurtured a deep platonic passion. I love the note at the bottom, where the artist asks Tommaso to please let him know what he thinks of the design.
And then there is “The Punishment of Tityus,” illustrating the Ovidian myth of the lustful giant who is punished for the attempted rape of the goddess Leto by being chained to a rock, where a vulture (here re-imagined by Michelangelo as an eagle) will feast on his liver for all eternity. This work was also created for Tommaso who wrote back to his friend that he would study the Tityus for two hours every day. And no wonder!
Vowles continues, “By the time of his death in 1564, the frail old man, who could scarcely hold a pen, already existed alongside a literary twin: the towering, heroic figure of artistic myth who would be described by Vasari – unwittingly echoing Aretino – as “divine” in the second edition of “Lives of the Artists,” published in 1568.” Vasari places Michelangelo as the pinnacle of Italian artistic achievement. A human being who chose to “give himself over to his genius.”
The master’s drawings were still delightfully occupying my mind this morning as I visited my favorite farmers at their Sunday morning market. Baskets of peaches, each fruit still shimmering with the morning’s dew, were being offered and I must have purchased nearly a dozen. Their perfect form and composition reminded me of the “Last Judgement” studies. I brought them home and baked them into in a hazelnut frangipane tart, showcasing their perfect structure and exquisite taste. Who knows, there might just be a few good tunes left to play on this old fiddle.
Fresh Peach and Hazelnut Frangipane Tart
One 12” Tart
Three ripe peaches
Crust:
1 ¼ cups toasted hazelnuts (in total – you will use 4 Tbsp for the frangipane)
1 ½ cups all-purpose flour
3 Tbsp granulated sugar
8 ounces (1 stick butter)
1 tsp vanilla paste
2 egg yolks
Frangipane:
2 whole eggs
¼ cup ground hazelnuts
4 Tbsp granulated sugar
1 tsp vanilla paste
1 tsp Chinese Five-Spice Powder
1) Preheat your oven to 350 degrees.
2) Make and bake the crust: In a food processer, finely grind the 1 ¼ cups hazelnuts. Remove 4 Tbsp and set aside for the frangipane. Add the flour and sugar and pulse to mix evenly. Add the vanilla paste and 2 egg yolks. Process until the dough just comes to a ball. Press the dough into a tart shell with a removable bottom. Freeze the shell for ten minutes before baking. Bake the shell for 20 minutes until the center appears dry and set. Cool slightly on a wire rack.
3) Make the frangipane: Wipe out the food processer. Add the reserved 4 Tbsp ground hazelnuts, the two eggs, sugar, vanilla and Five-Spice. Process until evenly mixed and slightly foamy. Pour into glass bowl and set aside.
4) Cut the peaches in half and remove the pit. Cut each half in to ¼” slices, retaining their shape. Stir the frangipane one more time and pour into the baked shell. Arrange five of the peach halves in a circle within the crust and slightly fan them open. Add the final half in the center of the shell and also slightly fan open. Liberally sprinkle the peaches with additional granulated sugar.
5) Bake for 30-35 minutes until the frangipane has risen and cracked. Then, if desired, broil for an additional 1-2 minutes to char the peaches. Cool the tart on a wire rack at least an hour before removing from the pan.
