To me, Jeremiah is the most human of all the prophets on the Sistine Chapel Ceiling. The prophet exhibits weakness, weariness and despair, his posture reveals diffidence and inner suffering. This is a potent psychological portrait, and the artist channels every surrounding element towards bringing out the mentioned traits, to make it such. I think that looking at this old man may be particularly gratifying, because every human being can sympathize with anguish, finding similar sentiments inside their souls. This figure epitomizes emotional pain, and demonstrates universal appeal as a consequence. Michelangelo chose the most basic device to establish the general mood: almost every loose object in this scene points down, as if symbolically echoing Jeremiah’s torment and “down” feelings; the man himself hangs his head, his gaze is downcast, his right shoulder is drooping. Furthermore, his beard points directly downwards, as is his under clothing and the fingers of his left hand. The prophet’s mirror companion replicates his position, with the lock imitating the beard.
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This prophet displays yet another step towards religious self-consciousness. The biblical prophets, from Ezekiel to Jeremiah (to be reviewed next) describe the full arch of intellectual and conceptual religious development, distancing themselves inversely from pure hedonistic physicality of the sibyls, in a quintessential, step by step, side effect . In Ezekiel we witness the readiness to partake in polemics and argue God’s word with rhetorical ardor and physical force — this is the stage of conquering; Joel dwells in an already familiar and occupied territory, and, as brute force becomes unnecessary, he widens the mental scope by focusing more on thought and letters, which his figure clearly denotes; Jeremiah embodies the tragedy of disillusionment, Solomon’s wisdom and personal moral devastation in the face of the destruction of Jerusalem. These prophets act out the rise and the fall of Judaism and Judaic tradition.
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No more sluggish grace: Ezekiel exhibits a poignancy of movement that proclaims a strong spiritual direction. His posture differs significantly from that of the sibyls, as he sits firmly on his throne, with both feet fixed on the ground. The prophet’s feet are shown without the embellishments we witness in his female counterparts; sturdy, simple members, they were meant for walking, and they reveal the day-to-day routine of the biblical prophet as physically demanding and even grueling. At last we see a gaze that is prepared to confront an opposition; there is generally something violent in the way Ezekiel looks to his right. In fact, all of his frame appears rather intimidating. The red of his main apparel further stresses the aggressiveness and the contained energy, ready to spill out in the form of words, as his pouting lips show, or blows, as his callous right palm unequivocally implies.
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The Libyan Sibyl also turns away from the book she holds, in what seems like a characteristic display of learned ignorance: having the knowledge, but being unable to use it in the right direction — that of the Christian creed. By reiterating the gesture, though in a different form, Michelangelo forwards a broad allegory on paganism. He exposes two sides of pagan spiritualism; on the one hand it deserves credit for the wisdom it developed and cultivated but, on the other, it can only be considered as an intermediate stage on the way to a loftier religious truth. To my mind the symbolism is quite obvious, and though interesting, it is the actual pictorial elements that make this figure fascinating. Once again, the artist reaches the highest levels of complexity and sophistication by introducing a series of rhythms, repetitions and movements.
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What captures the eye in the central figure is the emphasized elegance and ease of movement — and how these found their way into the depicted body. Michelangelo’s technique never ceases to amaze; his foreshortenings are uncompromising and consequently the illusion of space is overwhelming. He uses both architecture and human form to forge a three dimensional presence: the stony perspectives provide the rigor, while the soft, fluent motions enliven the angular lines. The artist creates a complex interplay between the architectonic and human elements, and that they both cover a part of a structure to be filled by people — and supposedly God — only adds to the complexity.
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