Portrait of Agnolo Doni by Rafael Sanzio
Doni turned to a visitor who sat in the great atrium of his house, amused by the funny exchanges. “These artists are the most shameless people on earth. I think I’ll just send back his ugly painting. Florence is full of Holy Family paintings—does he think his is such a work of genius? He’d better be happy if he finds someone generous enough—charitable enough—to give him ten lousy ducats. I’ve reached my limit.”
And he ordered his servants to put the painting back into its wrapping and take it to Michelangelo’s messenger, who stood watching with a frown. “A fellow can only be pushed so far,” he told the guest, who had to conceal his smile.
The guest was Doni’s neighbor and also a collector of rare and beautiful things. He had made more of a fuss over the painting than Doni himself. As the servants toted the painting by Doni and his visitor to hand it back to Michelangelo’s messenger, it suddenly struck Doni that Michelangelo would now be free to sell the painting again. And his neighbor might—would his neighbor actually try?—to buy it himself, that filthy schemer. It wouldn’t be above him.
So Doni became jealous of the painting and changed his mind about returning it. “Come into my office,” he told the messenger quietly; and went off with him, out of earshot of the guest. “Tell your master I’ve reached my limit. Here are forty ducats more. That’s obviously much above what even the artist thinks the painting is worth because it is forty ducats more than he originally asked.”
The messenger did not put out his hand to take the money. “That won’t do, you know,” he said. “My master is furious with you. When I went with the news that you had given him forty instead of seventy, he looked as though the Devil had gotten inside him. He said that when you ordered the painting you promised to pay him whatever he asked; and that he asked a fair price and you tried to cheat him. Now in punishment he has doubled the price. I’m sure he won’t accept a penny less.”
Doni ended up shelling out the seventy more ducats. Vasari tells the story to show how small-minded patrons can be but also to have us admire Michelangelo’s toughness. It probably came from Michelangelo himself—where else?
Those old Renaissance personalities were tough as nails and God deliver us polite weaklings from Florence the Jungle. None of those artists and craftsmen were pushovers. Was Michelangelo tougher than most? No doubt. “Terribile,” said the very Pope Julius of Michelangelo. Pope Julius could be pretty awful himself.
Return to Michelangelo and the Cheapskate 1
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Very well written story. Michelangelo was such a character.
Would any artist dare to try this today? Have you heard of any such stories…?
Thank you, erika. This is Vasari’s version (with just a little addition–the neighbor that made Doni jealous– of my own).
Do you know what Condivi says? That Michelangelo was paid [only] seventy ducats. Since he wrote under Michelangelo’s direction, you wonder if Vasari’s story wasn’t true or whether Michelangelo, having blabbed around about it, now shut up. Someplace else Vasari says that Doni loved his money–maybe he made the story up as much to get back at Doni for something as to show what a firm man Michelangelo was.
I love your stories, swallows. You make the old works come alive.
I would trust Condivi’s words more than Vasari’s. But it’s not impossible. Almost any artist has similar stories. Work they don’t want to sell, and say so to the buyer. Buyer insists on wanting that particular piece and nothing else. Artist puts an outrageous price tag on it. Sold in a second.
In a short text, Jean Renoir, the son of Pierre auguste Renoir, remebered what his father said about painters and Pope Julius II: “You have to be a bit mad to paint… Van Gogh was, and I am and, as for Cezanne…it”s the straightjacket! and Pope Julius was also mad and that’s exactly the reason he understood it so well…” ( in a book about Van Gogh)
OK, erika, let’s tell Danu to try that trick.
For Judith: yes, there were and ARE such artists today! Picasso, after the 2nd WW did that a lot and played merciless with his merchants…He said onece: If I do spit on the floor, they would take my pit and put it in a frame…” But to do that you have to be really in demand…or very proud…
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Sorry, Danu, I hadn’t seen this before writing back to judith. It was just a story like that I was–we were– looking for. Thanks. I knew you’d know.
Thanks a lot, kimiam. Have you started to carve that face yet?
Judith: Vasari is full of stories like this one. None is quite believable. All these artists with their tempers and their pride standing up to mean patrons. You still hear artists telling similar stories seasoned with staircase wit. Probably they’ve all eaten crow.
I thought the original story was that the painting was to be a gift for Doni’s future wife and as the big day loomed, Doni finally caved in as everybody found out that Michelangelo was painting for him and he couldn’t come up empty handed.
Yes, 100swallows, I know Vasari’s stories about artists’ pride (which actually have good ancient parallels — Pliny NH 35.86, among others: “Apelles felt free to taunt Alexander [the Great] when the latter expressed uninformed views about painting. So assured was he in the influence of his judgment over a king who was otherwise of an irascible temper.”). But I don’t know of any story that quite parallels this wonderful Michelangelo - Doni tale. Not even modern ones.
I suppose, Iondanu, Picasso taunting gallery-owners and similar riff-raff would come quite close.
Wonderful blog. I hope to stop in very often.
Frank: I wonder about your source for that story. I based mine on the one in Vasari. Condivi only says that Michelangelo, “in order not to abandon painting altogether” made the painting for Doni and that he received seventy ducats for it. The Hellmut Wohl note at the back of my Condivi says: “The painting was commissioned by the Florentine wool merchant and Michelangelo’s friend Angelo Doni—perhaps for his wedding in late 1503 or early 1504 to Maddalena Strozzi….” Some writer for a movie or a romance must have elaborated (considerably) on those two facts: the friendship and the wedding. I don’t object to a good story but I would never have hammed up Vasari’s if I had known that many or most people had heard another.
Great story, and you’ve made it delightfully vivid. An artist’s life is filled with woes like this and Michelangelo had more than his share. Good thing he was made of sterner stuff than most.
Have you considered publishing “field guides” to the great artists?
Thanks, zeladoniac. I love the “field guide” idea. Aren’t you funny.
Fabulous story. Now I’m waiting for someone to chisel me down from my original price of $7. I’m going to demand $10 or give it back. I’ll show em. Thanks for the business plan lesson.
That’s a wonderful Pliny quote, Judith. Thanks. Danu’s Picasso quote is good, though he didn’t have to fix his prices in later life, did he?
http://kimiam.wordpress.com/2008/05/13/the-cure-for-stonliness-is-a-friend-with-a-chisel/
Yes, swallows. It’s started! :P~
I think my version of the story must have been a romanticized or fictionized…actually now that I think about it, I think I did get it from the novel, The Agony and Ecstasy…
Thanks, Frank. I’m going to have to break down and read that novel–or see the movie. It seems to be the most important addition to the Michelangelo legend in our time. Wasn’t Charlton Heston the star? I always thought he looked very much like Michelangelo.