Perhaps just once in a generation, an artist creates a work that takes its place on the list of true classics. But for a brief period of time in the early 16th century, one man almost single-handedly created that entire list himself.
That man, of course, is Michelangelo — the Florentine sculptor, painter, and poet who created some of Western culture's greatest works of art. From his Pietà to the Sistine Chapel, the Last Judgment and David, the beauty of Michelangelo’s work never fails to awe and amaze.
But 500 years later, we still haven't seen another like him. Why?
Here are three reasons why this generation’s Michelangelo remains in hiding — and how to revive a culture that fosters the growth of epic artists…
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Throwaway Culture
It was not just the classical roots of art that were rediscovered during the Italian Renaissance — so too were the ideals of permanence and legacy. Inspired by sculptures that had already lasted for millennia, Renaissance patrons commissioned buildings to last the ages, and paintings to pass down their story to future generations.
Many pieces of art commissioned during the Renaissance were intended to beautify pre-existing traditions. When Michelangelo was commissioned to paint the Sistine Chapel, for example, he knew he wasn’t adorning just any other chapel — he was instead creating art that would guide the conscience of Cardinals as they elected the leader of one of history’s most influential and long-standing institutions.
So when he picked up his paintbrush, Michelangelo understood the ramifications. He knew he was making a piece of history.
Contemporary art, on the other hand, often lacks this long-term vision. Today’s art is typically divorced from the context of tradition, and rarely seeks to outlast its creator.
As a counterpoint to the Sistine Chapel, consider a room of comparable importance to the modern world — the United Nations General Assembly Hall. This is where world leaders meet to make decisions that touch the lives of almost everyone on earth, yet a quick glance is all it takes to realize just how much it lacks the permanence and dignity of the Sistine Chapel.
Instead of marble, the General Assembly Hall boasts thin wood paneling and carpeted floors. The art, which consists of two house-size abstract murals, comprises squiggly shapes and cartoonish colors. The murals are respectively dubbed “Bugs Bunny” and “Scrambled Eggs.”
If today’s most prominent international organization doesn’t value timeless art, it’s not surprising that it’s nowhere to be found in modern culture.
Nor is it a surprise that these conditions suffocate the vision of future Michelangelos who might otherwise emerge…
Consumerism
The Renaissance wasn’t just the rebirth of high art. It was also where the discipline of analyzing and evaluating that art was rediscovered.
Before the Renaissance, painting was considered an applied art — something decorative, yet primarily functional. But as the cultural floodgates burst open on the Italian peninsula, the currents of artistic innovation soon carried with them the disciplines of discussing and interpreting all the new art being produced.
Luminary critics such as Lorenzo Ghiberti began to approach painting with the same critical perspective that they brought to sculpture. In his Commentaries, Ghiberti situated artists’ work in the context of their lives, mapping the trajectory of their careers and tracing artists’ influence on one another.
As art criticism soon became an art in and of itself, this growing discipline of interpretation pushed artists to a new level of self-awareness. With a crowd of eager critics looking over their shoulders, painters pushed themselves to new heights of drama and insight. Patrons commissioned ambitious works that allowed masters like Michelangelo and Raphael to push themselves to the extremities of their talent.
And although this highly cultured form of art wasn’t integrated into the lives of common people, it was still available to them in the city square, churches, and pilgrimage sites. In other words, it remained accessible and inspirational.
Fast forward 500 years, however, and you’ll find a different artistic landscape. Art is no longer considered something precious to lift your soul and inspire your mind. Even when objectively beautiful art is made available to the masses, it is immediately commercialized — you can buy a statue of David T-shirt for pennies on Amazon, download the Sistine Chapel as a background for your iPhone, and add a print of the Mona Lisa to your cart with a single click.
The democratization of art has its cultural benefits, but there’s no doubt that reducing art to a consumable good denigrates your ability to see beauty as a transformative force. At the very least, it dulls your sense of what art is for — it’s not just a source of aesthetic pleasure, but a vehicle to convey the good, true, and beautiful.
So while the Renaissance pushed artists to create works that inspired souls, today’s consumer culture demands art that inspires sales. If Michelangelo were born again today, would anyone be interested in funding works of transcendent beauty that take days, weeks, or even years to create?
Or, would the Renaissance master be forced to focus on creating something with enough mass appeal to sell online and pay the bills?
The Decline of Humanism
Within the fertile ground of the Renaissance, one of the factors that most fueled the development of great art was the emergent philosophy of humanism. Its explosive confidence in human nature fueled artists’ passion, and they responded by creating art designed to draw the human spirit upward to ever-greater spiritual heights, moral awareness, and earthly achievement.
And while it’s difficult to pinpoint the exact moment at which this exuberant humanism shifted towards postmodern cynicism, one thing is clear — that by the postwar period of the 20th century, art was telling a very different story.
Two consecutive world wars had forced humanity to confront its dark side, and caused many to mistrust human nature. In response to this experience, new schools of art emerged. Brutalism, for example, steamrolled over the uniqueness of human nature. Cubism expressed the trauma and fractured nature of modern life.
If Michelangelo had been born in the 20th century, would he have had the optimistic faith in humanity required to unfold its story across the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel? Would he have highlighted the glory of man unveiled in his David, or perceived the human capacity for compassionate suffering that inspired his Pietà?
If we want more Michelangelos in our culture today, we can’t just recover the ability to create epic art — we must first recover a reason to make it…
From Renaissance Man to Modern Man
Ultimately, the Renaissance was more than just an awakening of creativity, rationality, and cultural self-awareness. It was the fruit of fertile soil, the natural result of a spiritual and cultural context that allowed thousands of artists — Michelangelo included — to exercise their talent to the highest degree.
In contrast, a culture starved of deep convictions is shallow soil, unconducive to the growth of great artists. It leads to a cyclical problem: without a culture that values art, beautiful art won’t appear. And without beautiful art, we won’t know how to value it.
But before you despair, consider this — Michelangelo’s David gets more visitors than the United Nations every year. Vatican City, while theoretically less relevant than the UN to today’s secular society, gets five times as many visitors. And as the world’s most visited painting, the Mona Lisa sees 10 million beauty-seeking pilgrims every year.
Though these are only three metrics, they nonetheless reveal that modern man isn’t so different from Renaissance man after all. The human heart still seeks beauty, mystery, and insight. And when we can’t find it in contemporary culture, we’ll keep reaching back into the riches of the past to nourish our spirits.
For while it may appear to go silent at certain chapters in history, the spirit of beauty is still alive and well — for it is far too integral to the underpinnings of our human nature to ever die completely.
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This Saturday, we look at another legendary artist — Dante Alighieri — to uncover his 4-step advice on how to read the Bible (or any other epic story)…
I love this and think about these ideas all the time. When you mentioned that the UN has wood walls and carpeted floors, I thought of how much modern society values comfort. Wood and carpet are warm and soft and they muffle sound. Stone buildings are cold and hard and they echo. Placing comfort as a high priority means things won’t last, and I also wonder how good it can actually be for us to frequently be in a state of comfort. If that’s one of our highest aims, no wonder there are no great artists - no one is willing to exert himself beyond his comfort zone.
Thank you for this, this is a great article!! I’m an art historian, and I thought you might find this related information interesting - I can assure you it’s completely factual; I’m actually giving a lecture on it this Friday. I firmly believe another reason contemporary art is so divorced from the historical art canon is due to the fact that during the 1950’s, the CIA (working in conjunction with the MoMA - the Chairman of the Board and the Executive Secretary were both CIA agents) actively bought, promoted and toured Abstract Expressionism throughout the world during the Cold War to combat soviet socialist realism. They operated through a front organization called the Congress for Cultural Freedom which had offices in 35 countries, hosted art exhibitions and awards, and actively operated 20+ prestige magazines writing about and hailing American Abstract Expressionsim as the culmination of modernist achievement. John Hay Whitney (President and Chairman of the Board at the MoMA, agent of the CIA and head of the Whitney foundation) actively used his foundation’s money to award grants to art schools that taught new AbEx methods of painting. This fundamentally and completely transformed art education - independent art schools became decreasingly popular, representational painters and teachers were discouraged (and in some cases even fired), and the time tested methods of the masters were removed from art curricula in favor of these new, “highly acclaimed” modern methods.
It sounds like a conspiracy theory, but I can assure you it’s all true - much of my research was done using primary sources found through the freedom of information act reading room on the CIA’s website. I’m really passionate about letting people know about this because it is NOT taught in art history curricula. I hope you find it as insightful as I have!