points from which you can tell that Michael Angelo was a genius
Answers
Michael Angelo terminated this herculean task, glorious but shattered. Through having to hold his head thrown back for months, whilst painting the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, "he injured his sight to such an extent that for a long time afterwards he could neither read a letter nor look at an object unless he held them above his head, in order to see them better."[2]
He himself joked about his infirmities:
"Labour has given me a goitre, as water does to the cats of Lombardy . . . My stomach points towards my chin, my beard turns towards the sky, my skull rests on my back and my chest is like that of a harpy. The paint from my brush, in dripping on to my face, has made a many-coloured pattern upon it. My loins have entered into my body and my posterior counterbalances. I walk in a haphazard manner, without being able to see my feet. My skin is extended in front and shortened behind. I am bent like a Syrian bow. My intelligence is as strange as my body, for one plays an ill tune on a bent reed."[3]
We must not be deceived by this good humour. Michael Angelo could not endure being ugly. To a man like himself, appreciating physical beauty more than any one, ugliness was a disgrace.[4] We find traces of his humiliation in some of his madrigals.[5] His sorrow was so much the more acute as, the whole of his life he was consumed with love, which does not appear ever to have been returned. Consequently he retired within himself, putting all his tenderness and troubles into his poetry.
Answer:
Hey mate, here is your Answer!!
Explanation:
Michelangelo and the Making of a Genius. ... He was the first artist to be deemed a genius by contemporary art historians like Vasari and Condivi. The accolades had much to do with his skill, of course, but it helped that Michelangelo had a deliberate strategy for positioning himself as a unique artist.
Because to have faith in humanity means to believe in our potential. And there is no more powerful reminder of that potential than the artists responsible for the very best that humankind has achieved. The vision of a Great artist can show us that we are better than the darkness that engulfs us – be it the darkness of our own personal fairings, or of the society we find ourselves part of.
Michael Angelo terminated this herculean task, glorious but shattered. Through having to hold his head thrown back for months, whilst painting the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, "he injured his sight to such an extent that for a long time afterwards he could neither read a letter nor look at an object unless he held them above his head, in order to see them better."[2]
He himself joked about his infirmities:
"Labour has given me a goitre, as water does to the cats of Lombardy . . . My stomach points towards my chin, my beard turns towards the sky, my skull rests on my back and my chest is like that of a harpy. The paint from my brush, in dripping on to my face, has made a many-coloured pattern upon it. My loins have entered into my body and my posterior counterbalances. I walk in a haphazard manner, without being able to see my feet. My skin is extended in front and shortened behind. I am bent like a Syrian bow. My intelligence is as strange as my body, for one plays an ill tune on a bent reed."[3]
We must not be deceived by this good humour. Michael Angelo could not endure being ugly. To a man like himself, appreciating physical beauty more than any one, ugliness was a disgrace.[4] We find traces of his humiliation in some of his madrigals.[5] His sorrow was so much the more acute as, the whole of his life he was consumed with love, which does not appear ever to have been returned. Consequently he retired within himself, putting all his tenderness and troubles into his poetry.