The Battle for Renaissance Man

In 1503 Leonardo di ser Piero da Vinci (Vince for short) was commissioned to paint a mural on one wall of the Council Hall of the Palazzo Vecchio. Leonardo was by this point in his fifties, although still in full health and some would argue the peak of his powers. The self assured and highly honoured artist had been asked by Piero Soderini to paint a depiction of the Battle of Anghiari.

Always in need of extra cash Da Vinci had eagerly accepted the commission and had started to make his preliminary sketches on the walls. One day some time later, whilst he was staring at the wall to try to come up with more ideas the door to the council hall opened and a young man of twenty eight walked in dressed in scruffy clothes. Leonardo recognised him at once as Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni (Big Mick for short).

“Are you lost Michelangelo? The second hand rag stall is down the street” Leonardo sneered. It was well known that Michelangelo had little time for clothes or indeed washing.

“Actually Leonardo I have been commissioned to paint a mural on the wall by Soderini, I will require no apprentice, you may leave” replied Michelangelo with a casual wave of his hand.

Leonardo went purple with rage almost spitting his words out. “That greasy little political weasel! Oh Soderini I will get you for this one, insulting my work by sending a little upstart to work with me”.

“On the contrary Signor”. Said Soderini breezing into the hall from a side door. “I have commissioned Signor Michelangelo to paint the other wall. It will be the greatest hall in Florence, painted by the two greatest painters in Florence”

Leonardo mumbled something under his breath that sounded distinctly like “bulls#&!”

“It would seem that Signor Leonardo does not believe he can produce the same quality of work that I can, perhaps you should find someone else Soderini” put in Michelangelo plucking a pencil from a grubby pocket.

“I eat pieces of crap like you for breakfast!” screamed Leonardo, his middle aged rage starting to peak.

“Then I will not be sharing any meals with you” countered Michelangelo.

“Well I see both of you have hit it off; I will leave you two geniuses to get on. Remember Florence expects no less than perfection” and with a final beaming smile perfected through a lifetime in politics, hurried out of the hall.

“You just stay away from me kid, I am a real artist, not some jumped up bricklayer whose dad knows the right people. You hear me, stay away”

“Gladly, your old fashioned style is far too vulgar”

Leonardo turned round to respond but Michelangelo was already laying out some charcoal lines on his wall, so he contented himself with pulling a rude hand gesture behind his back.

Over the following months both men would sporadically turn up to make more sketches or notes, though this was rare. The artists were in constant demand and the money from commissions as well as the fame was eagerly sought by both whether they had the time to do them or not. On top of this both men were highly prolific idea builders and would often become sidetracked onto projects of there own.

When they did run into one another the atmosphere would be frosty at best. However when either of the men would arrive to work at the Hall and the other was absent, they would always take a moment to admire the others work. Despite their obvious hatred for each other they both new the other was a fine artist.

One day Michelangelo entered the hall and was shocked to find Leonardo sat at his stool looking at his painting and crying.

“Ah finally you have realised your scrawls have no place being in the same building as my art” drawled Michelangelo. He then waited for the necessary barbed backlash that he had started to enjoy, but Leonardo continued to sit focussed on his painting. Michelangelo’s eyes wandered up to the picture and discovered the cause for the concern. Leonardo had been using a plaster to create his painting, and all over the finely detailed scene huge cracks had appeared and in places chunks fallen off.

“Bloody Pliny! The old fraud” wailed Leonardo

“What are you talking about you crazy old fool” enquired Michelangelo, but without venom.

Pliny the Elder was a Roman author, naturalist and historian and although highly respected he did have a tendency to make quite a lot of things up or report untested advice as true, such as using urine to cure all manor of health problems or tying bra’s round your head to cure headaches.

“Its one of Pliny the Elders paints recipes, you add oil to plaster and it makes the most wonderful material to work with, but as soon as it dries this happens. The whole bloody things ruined”

Michelangelo looked at the painting again, this time seeing the absolute beauty of it, behind the cracks and fissures created by the drying plaster. Perhaps another man may have felt happy that his rival had failed and would have to start again, but he felt only sorrow at the loss of something great. He looked across to his barely started picture, just a few charcoal outlines and said “Never mind, you can start again” but Leonardo did not listen.

Just at that moment one of Soderini’s clerks ran in looking highly flustered “The Republic has been overthrown! Soderini has fled” and with that took flight again.

“Oh well that’s that then” exclaimed Michelangelo “The Medici won’t want pictures of Republic victories on their hall walls, I ….. Why are you laughing?”

“I take it you didn’t get your money up front?” enquired Da Vinci starring up from his tear streamed face. “You have a lot to learn lad”

“You old bugger, I felt sorry for you, you…”

“Lets say we split it fifty fifty then, and if no one heard about my little plastering mishap then no harm done eh?”

“Done! I think the tavern down the road should still be open. Its probably best if we get out of here before any soldiers turn up”

“A good idea, I need to tell you what you’re doing wrong with your painting anyway”