ArtSunday: Mr. and Mrs. Buonarroti

 He is nearly finished, bella. They want it
erected in the Piazza della Signoria. Already
some are calling him a masterwork.

	That’s nice, dear.
	Can you move your things?
	Lucia is stopping by.

On one level, he is sacred
homage to divine creation. Of course,
he is also heresy.
Who, after all, is our
Goliath in this, the most
enlightened of ages?
If they knew my heart
they would tear it out.

	Did you forget to pay the light bill, Mike?
	Goddamn it – how many times do you have to be
	reminded? I swear, you’re
	like a little kid.
	Now what will we do?

There is talk of a commission – a
commemoration of the Battle of Cascina for the
Palazzo Vecchio.

	You know how proud I am, yes?

I would like if you
stopped by the studio to see him.
Maybe one day this week, and then
we would dine in that little place
near the Piazza Duomo.

	I never understand sculpture.
	You have worked so very hard, and
	your statue, it is beautiful, I’m certain. I
	know your heart, do I not?
	Hand me my purse.

My father didn’t want me to be an artist, you know.
Said it was beneath me. But he
approved of you, and it’s good to
make family happy.

	I think I’ll get those shoes
	I told you about. They’re Ferragamo,
	calzolaio supremo di Milano,
	heels like icepicks.
	You’ll see how men stare when
	we go to the opera.

A student asked me today to
speak of my philosophy.
I said to him
art is
integration of that which is merely juxtaposed.


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