The Overflow From David’s Bath

Restorers in Florence have just completed a cosmetic job on Michelangelo’s “David,” with the usual amount of self-congratulatory rhetoric about the rediscovery of its “original” glory. Of course, that is impossible to achieve because of normal aging, hundreds of years of weathering and damage, and even harsh cleanings in the past.

And while the Florentine officials were patting themselves on the back, they were ignoring the statue’s real problems: potential instability because of weaknesses in the stone and a questionable base.

Michelangelo completed the 18-foot “David,” then known as “The Giant,” in 1504, when it was placed beside the main portal of the governmental palace, the Palazzo della Signoria. It was carved from a huge but not particularly choice block of Carrara marble that further suffered from having been abandoned to the elements by two earlier carvers. Still, Michelangelo managed to salvage out of it a powerful and prestigious sculpture, which would become the symbol of Florence and the emblem of Renaissance art.

When the word spread several years ago that Italian art authorities wanted to clean the “David” for its 500th birthday, an outcry ensued. After all, the sculpture looked good, and it had been indoors, at the Galleria dell’ Accademia, for over 130 years. In 2003, 50 of the world’s leading art scholars, concerned about restorations that they felt had gone too far, were horrified that the same thing could happen to the “David.” Under the auspices of ArtWatch International, they asked the superintendent of art in Florence, Antonio Paolucci, to defer the work until the project could be assessed by an independent commission.

Paolucci refused, and the restoration went ahead, even though the first restorer, who had advocated not much more than a thorough dusting, had to be removed for insubordination. The pressure from worried experts was felt, however, evidently persuading the authorities to go easy with their “wet” cleaning. Distilled water was applied in compresses. In a few places, a solvent was applied. But the restoration turned out to be a relatively mild -- if unnecessary -- intervention.

Still, what the “David” really needed as a 500th birthday present was protection from a fall. No actions have been taken to keep it from tumbling during an earthquake, for example. Its high, narrow shape adds to its instability, along with a narrow 19th century base.

Such matters are pressing because the marble is weak, especially on the statue’s right, weight-bearing side. Should it fall, it could break into thousands of pieces. A life-sized marble sculpture of Adam, by Tullio Lombardo, housed in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, shattered two years ago when its base caved in. The museum was surprised that the wooden plinth turned out to be inadequate. Produced about the same time as the “David,” “Adam” is still in a restoration laboratory, and although the Met claims it is reparable, the museum has not announced when it will be back on display.

In general, modern restoration is motivated less by what’s necessary than by three other phenomena: mass tourism, sponsorship and national pride. In terms of the first, more than 2 million people a year visit the “David,” making it one of Italy’s art cash cows. It cost up to $20 a ticket, and more money gets spent on catalogs, T-shirts and the usual gadgets available in the company store. This amounts to big business when one also considers the hotels, restaurants and shops all over town that get a “David” boost. After the restoration of the Sistine Chapel frescoes, ticket sales at the Vatican’s museum doubled, so that might be expected for the “David.”

The restoration has attracted illustrious donors, including Sting and Mel Gibson, backers of a nonprofit American group called Friends of Florence, which, with a Dutch foundation, provided funding for the “David” cleaning. The $500,000 could have been better spent on art that really needs saving. But fixing, say, the leaking ceiling in a chapel of Florence’s Annunziata church has little publicity value. A high-profile but unnecessary cleaning seems to have been more satisfying to donors.

And now to national pride. The English think they are the best at restoration, especially for pictures, but others think that London’s National Gallery restorations, for instance, are among the worst. The French have a spotty but finer record, in experts’ opinions, while the Germans quietly consider their approach the best. And so it goes. The restoration of the “David” became a matter of Italian national pride.

And yet masterpieces of art belong to the entire world. Should an individual or even individual countries be allowed to determine what will be done to our treasures without any controls? Society needs to decide how to treat the past, if it aspires to have a future. Should we modernize it, transform it into a business or preserve it with discretion and humility?

In the case of the “David,” it appears that outsiders had a positive effect on the restoration of one of the world’s cultural treasures in an atmosphere of transparency. That’s at least one positive aspect of “David’s” bath that should be applied to future interventions.

James Beck is professor of art and archeology at Columbia and president of ArtWatch International.