
The Last Judgment (Michelangelo)
Bartholomew holds his own flayed skin, and the sagging face on it is Michelangelo's. The nudes offended enough critics that drapery was added later.

Bartholomew holds his own flayed skin, and the sagging face on it is Michelangelo's. The nudes offended enough critics that drapery was added later.

Over ten meters long and tied from perhaps twenty-six million knots, woven for a shrine and inscribed with a longing line of Hafiz.

Every proportion is wrong on purpose, and a single outsized column rises behind for no reason. Parmigianino died before finishing it.

A girl with a reptile's body offers a honeycomb and Time pulls back a curtain. The cold puzzle was probably a gift for the French king.

Behold the man, said Pilate. Titian strips out the crowd and leaves the scourged Christ half-length, close enough to pray to.

Where his teacher Pontormo made the subject swirl with anxiety, Bronzino polishes it: jewel-bright blues and pinks, grief made elegant.