Prisoners in Stone
A reflection courtesy of Il Divino
This post was drafted under the former blog’s title “Dad’s Journey Home” a few days after Dad died but before he was buried. It’s important, I think, to keep this in mind to give you an understanding of where our hearts were as we began mourning our Dad in earnest. THAT was a liminal time and space for us all here who call ourselves Dad’s family. I intended to send it out at that time, some time in late March/early April; but for some reason, other posts surfaced and felt more timely. So, I send it out now as there is an Eldering from Dad within. Again, it is unedited from its original draft.
In the bottom section, where I typically would expound some more about Dad’s Eldering in relation to the post’s main topic, I wrote only one sentence intending to return to the draft and write more at a later time—these posts rarely complete themselves in one sitting. But when I looked at it and read it again the other week, I felt it was perfect just as it was. Just one sentence, just before an updated postscript; the only way to end this particular post under the final heading: “His Eldering.”
~ kbl
He was known as Il Divino—“The Divine One.”
For good, no, GREAT reason.
The world knows him simply by his first name. A name synonymous with artistic genius.
Michelangelo.
That should be enough said unless he shows up in a blog post about my Dad—then there be some ‘splaining to do. My Dad and Michelangelo?
Really?
Most of us know of many of his amazing, completed works: the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, The Pieta, David. “His” meaning Michelangelo, NOT my Dad (in case you needed me to set the record straight—you know, for clarity’s sake!).
But there are some other Michelangelo works of note that are just as inspiring for a much different reason: because he didn’t finish them!
The Prisoners
Michelangelo, the prolific artist, poet, and sculptor that he was, could not, of course, complete all the works he intended or started in his life. As such, and as is the case with most if not all artists, there were more, many more, pieces, canvases, and sculptures still left to finish; more certainly left in his imagination that he took with him when he died in February of 1564. There’s irony and a sad poignancy to this, and not just in the loss of all that “could have been” had Michelangelo, the creator of David, of The Pieta, of the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, lived longer. Yes, he lives on, and at that, immortally, through the art he left behind. But it is back in those unfinished pieces that perhaps are the most poignant in meaning for a human species constantly searching for meaning.
They have been named Michelangelo’s “Prisoners in Stone.”
Haunting, right?
The fame of these four powerful statues – named by scholars as “The Awakening Slave”,“The Young Slave”,“The Bearded Slave” and “The Atlas (or Bound)” – is due above all to their unfinished state. They are some of the finest examples of Michelangelo’s habitual working practice, referred to as “non-finito” (or incomplete), magnificent illustrations of the difficulty of the artist in carving out the figure from the block of marble and emblematic of the struggle of man to free the spirit from matter. These sculptures have been interpreted in many ways. As we see them, in various stages of completion, they evoke the enormous strength of the creative concept as they try to free themselves from the bonds and physical weight of the marble. It is now claimed that the artist deliberately left them incomplete to represent this eternal struggle of human beings to free themselves from their material trappings.
(Accademia.org 2023)
It’s pretty cool to think he might have intentionally left them incomplete. But that, we’ll never know with certainty.
Kristin and I were fortunate, incredibly fortunate, to explore parts of Italy, including Rome and Florence, ten years ago with her mom and dad, Patty and Lee, and her sister and brother-in-law, LeAnn and Craig. I count it as a blessing we spent time staring up at the Sistine Chapel in the Vatican, admiring The Pieta in St. Peter’s Basilica, and marveling at the marble of some of Michelangelo’s Prisoners in Stone in Florence (we saw a replica of David just outside the main museum where the original David was moved permanently under the protection of cover and out of the weather).
Do I need to say “If you ever have the chance…”?
Michelangelo believed he was “a tool of God” placed on Earth to reveal God’s awesome abundance and magnificence through artistic expression. It is also said that Michelangelo believed he didn’t carve statues but “simply” (yeah, right) chiseled away the excess marble in order to reveal, or free, the spirit or figure hidden within.
Now THAT’s awesome!
A Reflection on Dad:
Dad left his earthly human presence having fully emerged into life, throughout his life. Unlike Michelangelo’s Prisoners, Dad left nothing behind, nothing still covered by stone or soil. For me, The Prisoners represent things that are still left hidden, covered (or undiscovered), “non-finito,” if only to the imagination. They evoke mystery, poignancy, and a palpable sense of gravity and sadness. In them, we experience lives unfinished, or yet to be fully formed.
That wasn’t Dad.
Dad didn’t burnout from a hard and stressful life; Dad burned up, ignited as he was, by the passion he had for farming. With more than a little help from his companion Dementia for sure, he left nothing behind. Dad was authentic and genuine. There was no mystery to Dad. What you saw was all there was—with nothing hidden…anywhere. He lived fully the life he wanted and loved, and he did it all without acclaim nor want of praise. If he was given a do-over, he’d choose to do the exact same thing. To live the life he lived. Of that I have NO doubt!
If there was a sculptor who sculpted Dad from the clay of the earth, he sculpted a finished piece. A spirit freed fully from the bonds of the stone and clay. A life complete.
Fully formed.
AKA: A hop farmer from Moxee, Washington.
This is one of the many things I’m eternally grateful for—that Dad was able to live, fully, the life he wanted, the life he created for himself. I’m certain Dad died with no regrets; having regrets would have meant he left parts of himself “non-finito.” Still hidden under clay and stone.
That wasn’t Dad.
Michelagelo’s works, finis or nonfinito, are profound and sublimely magnificent. Each. And. Every. One.
And no less, was Dad.
Because…
His Eldering:
Any life lived fully is magnificent.
~ k
T…complete. There is no more need to mark time. Like the best of the world’s art, Dad now belongs to eternity—a return from whence he came 84 1/2 years ago.
FYI: Michelangelo was 88 years old when he died.
Updated Postscript: Back to present day October 2023:
Synchronicity:
In yesterday’s NYTimes, there was a feature article on the mysterious sketches found in 1975 on the walls deep within the catacombs of the Medici Chapels in Florence (that Michelangelo himself designed). Sketches that, many of which, are now believed to be by Michelangelo’s own hand during a very interesting period when he went into hiding during an uprising against the Pope and the Medici family. I saw a reference that called these sketches “Prisoner Sketches,” works that would never reach the light of day. Here’s a brief NPR article on these sketches.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Also FYI if you are interested, here are links to two posts published exactly one year ago. When I go back in time to read these, I still learn so much more about my Dad…and me. And my gratefulness only grows.
As always, thank you for being a part of the Alchemy of my Journey. Now back to your own regularly scheduled magnificent life!