Michelangelo found his own technique in everything he did, not only sculpture. He was surrounded by professionals with the greatest skill and workshop tradition ever seen in history. But he didn’t follow their advice.
He had never painted in fresco before accepting the commission for the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. He let the painters show him basic technique and then kicked them all out of the chapel. He tore down their scaffold, which they had suspended like a swing from the ceiling, because it struck him as a bad proceeding. When the painting was finished and the scaffold brought down, what was he going to do about those big holes in the ceiling where the rope-hooks had been? It was the traditional way, the venerable way for fresco painters to work; and it was like so many other tricks of the trade—rough and ready solutions repeated in spite of their inadequacy.
There was something of this finding out for yourself in defiance of the wealth of traditional know-how about many great Renaissance men—perhaps it is the hallmark of the period. You see it very well in Benvenuto Cellini but it is all through Vasari´s Lives: Uccello frittering away his genius on experiments in perspective; Leonardo spoiling his own masterpieces with experimental pigments and glues.