Welcome to my latest queer history blog post! If you enjoy this article, make sure to sign up for my newsletter and stay up to date with my blog and Historical Fiction novels. Thanks for reading!
Michelangelo has gone down in history as one of the greatest, if not the greatest, artists in history. The painter, sculptor, architect, and poet towered above nearly all others in an era defined by brilliant and forward-thinking individuals. But what of Michelangelo himself – the man behind the myth and legend? Michelangelo’s personal world in many ways remains shrouded in mystery, only interpretable through the astounding works of art – both visual and written – that he left behind.
Scores of biographers, both in his lifetime and today, have endeavored to understand the elusive Michelangelo who existed behind the frescoes, statues and marble. It is these efforts which have fueled speculation, and for some certainty, that Michelangelo enjoyed what we would call queer attraction. What evidence has survived to suggest that one of history’s greatest minds was perhaps also a queer icon, and what does that evidence tell us about Michelangelo himself – and the world he dominated?
Renaissance Man
Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni was born in March, 1475 in Florence, Italy at a time of intellectual and artistic revolution throughout Western Europe. Though born into a noble family, Michelangelo convinced his father to allow him to be apprenticed into the visual arts (a highly unusual career path for a gentleman of his inherited rank).[1] Michelangelo’s obvious early talents soon facilitated his entrée into the height of Florentine political power. He joined the household of Lorzenzo de Medici, one of the most powerful figures of his era and a devoted patron of artists and intellectuals.[2] The fabulously wealthy Medicis gave Michelangelo his first commissions in sculpture, an art form which Michelangelo would ultimately transform. The Medicis would be interwoven with Michelangelo’s career; Lorenzo’s son, who would go on to become Pope Leo X, would become one of Michelangelo’s most important patrons.
One of Michelangelo’s first major sculptures was the emotive Pietà, which remains today in St. Peter’s Basilica, in 1498. This breathtaking achievement was quickly followed by arguably the most famous sculpture in history, David, in 1501. David so amazed Michelangelo’s artistic jurors that it was moved from the outside of the Florence Cathedral (its intended perch) to the Palazzo dei Priori as a showcase piece for the Florentine Republic.[3] By all accounts, Michelangelo persistently sought out new and ever-greater challenges for displaying his artistic visions. Accordingly, the ceiling of the Vatican’s Sistine Chapel was completed between 1508 and 1512 in painstakingly detailed fresco techniques, featuring the centerpiece “The Creation of Adam” among its three-hundred Old Testament figures.[4]
The latter half of Michelangelo’s career was consumed by his next principal passion – architecture. Michelangelo saw architectural design as the obvious intellectual progression for a man of his imagination and capability: the bigger, as far as he was concerned, the better. Among his chief projects were the tomb of Pope Julius II (which comprised over forty meticulous statues), the Laurentian library, and various tombs for members of the Medici family to which he owed so much.[5] Michelangelo’s final years were spent in Rome, where he left an indelible mark on the Eternal City through the Capitoline Square and the dome of St. Peter’s. Any one of these projects would have ranked as the greatest lifetime achievement of an ordinary man; Michelangelo, however, was among the most extraordinary individuals in an era defined by them.
Michelangelo the Man
Throughout these years, Michelangelo carefully honed his artistic reputation, perhaps as carefully as he fashioned hard stone into masterpieces. Even so, Michelangelo exemplified what we might today call an “artistic temperament.” One source notes his “tempestuous, melancholy, and troubled personality”, as well as fierce pride and absolute devotion to his work.[6] His hot temper was perhaps his only constant companion throughout his life. A disfigurement of his nose, common to his portraits, supposedly came from a fist fight with another young man in Lorenzo de Medici’s household.[7] Michelangelo is thought to have preferred a “squalid lifestyle, rejecting the trappings his wealth could have brought him and enjoyed living alone, away from friends and family.”[8]
solitude perhaps belies his worldview and passions
These traits may explain why Michelangelo never married, nor seemed to seek companionship or any known romantic affairs. Despite these superficial facts, however, scholars note intriguing evidence that Michelangelo himself harbored queer, if not explicitly homosexual, attractions – chiefly notable in his artistic representations of the male form, as well as in his literary musings and poetry (specifically, those written to one young aristocrat in particular).[9] Interpreting these glimpses of Michelangelo, the man behind the legend, requires a deeper understanding of the queer culture which surrounded him in Renaissance Florence.
Queer Florence
A common, although incorrect, assumption is that the Western world (until the late 20th century) was overwhelmingly repressive of queer identities and public queer expression. Modern observers may be tempted to think of the Renaissance and Reformation eras, dominated by competing versions of the Christian faith, as wholly restrictive for any persons living outside strict interpretations of gender and sexual roles. For most Italian governments during this era, such repression was officially true – but the reality of rampant, public and largely accepted homosexual behavior belies the public policy of most Renaissance principalities. Even the Eternal City, Rome itself, had a vibrant subculture of gay men living in some degree of community with one another (which I have written about previously in my blog post on a Renaissance Gay Wedding).
Nowhere was this truer than in Florence – Michelangelo’s home city and the epicenter of the flourishing artistic world which defined the Italian humanist period. Florence was, at least by the mores of the early modern era, the original Sin City. Historian Michael Rocke’s seminal work Forbidden Friendships: Homosexuality and Male Culture in Renaissance Florence argues that the city was defined by a pervasive culture of what we might today call homosexuality or bisexuality. This was evident at all levels of society, bolstering Florence’s reputation as a city of “sodomy” (though this word had varying connotations in the 16th century).[10] Regardless, some estimates suggest that as many as two-thirds of Florentine men in this period could be classified as “sodomites,” engaging in some forms of “unnatural” sexual behavior.[11]
Historian James Saslow, who has extensively researched the question of homoerotic representation in Michelangelo’s art, notes that within the city of his apprenticeship “Michelangelo was exposed to homosexuality at all social levels.”[12] Another source describes the Italian art scene of this era as “a very homosocial culture for aristocratic men, and it was public knowledge that younger men (such as apprentices) often had intimate and sexual relationships with their mentors. Michelangelo was openly a part of this culture.”[13]
But did Michelangelo himself participate, actively or passively, in this queer subculture, or does it matter at all? Scholars consider both Michelangelo’s artistic works, as well as his interpersonal relationships, as meriting further scrutiny.
‘Gerardos’ and ‘Tommasos’
The most obvious place to look for evidence that Michelangelo may have been homosexual is in his interpersonal relationships; as noted, he never married nor seems to have cohabited with persons of any gender. But despite the absence of a long-term romantic or sexual affair, Michelangelo was widely rumored among his peers (and rivals) to be attached to young aristocratic men in unsuitably passionate ways.
Perhaps the most notorious of these “attachments” was to Tommaso dei Cavalieri, a young Roman nobleman who the artist met in 1532. Cavalieri was reputed to be unusually handsome and graceful, and he likely met Michelangelo (then in his late 50s) when he was in his late teens or early 20s.[14] Whatever the nature of their relationship early on, Cavalieri would remain Michelangelo’s close friend and a trusted confidante throughout the remainder of the artist’s life. He was also present at Michelangelo’s deathbed.[15]
Michelangelo’s letters to Tommaso often contain drawings and lines of poetry. These sent tongues wagging throughout Rome. His sonnets to his young friend, certainly, suggest an intensely passionate bond:
If I must be conquered and chained to be happy
It’s no wonder that I, naked and alone, remain
The prisoner of an armored knight
R.B. Parker notes in his discussion of this poem that “armored knight” would have roughly translated to “cavalier armato”, and therefore had a double meaning in the Italian tongue: beloved Cavalieri.[16] It is thought that of Michelangelo’s few hundred known poems, over two dozen were dedicated solely to Cavalieri.
But Michelangelo’s expressions of love were not limited to words; he also entrusted Cavalieri with drawings. This may strike modern audiences as a perfectly normal gift from an artist to a close friend, but the gesture was extraordinary in Michelangelo’s case (who bestowed the privilege of owning his drawings on precious few). Michelangelo not only gave these works to Cavalieri, but encouraged his comment and even critique. One such drawing was finished with a note saying, “if it pleases you and you want me to finish it, send it back to me.”[17] These words are astonishing in of themselves for the proud, bold Michelangelo.
All of this, unsurprisingly, led to scurrilous rumors about the men’s relationship to each other – particularly in light of the younger man’s impeccable nobility and elevated status. A writer, Pietro Aretino, used the correspondence between the two to pressure Michelangelo into offering him a prized drawing from the master. Aretino is reported to have alluded to Michelangelo’s assumed homosexual affairs warning: “You should give me the drawings I’m asking for, because that would help get rid of the rumors that only certain ‘Gerardos’ and ‘Tommasos’ can get drawings from you.”[18]
Salacious rumors aside, there remains the possibility that Michelangelo’s interest in Tommaso was more avuncular or paternal given the considerable age gap between the two and the lack of any evidence that this relationship was ever consummated in any physical sense. Importantly, however, physical consummation is not requisite for queer or even explicitly homosexual desire. As asexual and aromantic spectrum individuals (the author included) can attest, attraction can span a wide range from aesthetic to intellectual to emotional. If these were the lenses through which Michelangelo found himself drawn to Tommaso (and others) it may be more accurate to suggest that Michelangelo enjoyed queerplatonic attraction and such relationships rather than conventionally sexual or romantic ones.
Kissing Men
Michelangelo’s art offers further evidence that he at least enjoyed an aesthetic attraction to men, seeing the male form as the height of beauty and physical perfection. Saslow notes that “[b]eginning with his contemporaries, friend and foe alike have invoked the content or form of Michelangelo’s major works as milestones in early modern representation of gender ambiguity and homoeroticism.”[19] Michelangelo’s contemporaries, for example, often thought that his female figures were barely amended men. The pejorative “men with breasts” has been applied to Michelangelo’s females for hundreds of years. Kamna Kirti explains that “[h]istorians have argued at length that Michelangelo was naturally inclined to male bodies. So, in response, to portray a beautiful woman, he’d simply design her to appear as close to a man as possible.”[20]
Caroline Harvey makes similar observations regarding Michelangelo’s desires as expressed through artwork – namely, a famous drawing The Rape of Ganymede which was, notably, originally a gift for Cavalieri. She notes that “the Ganymede drawing can and should be seen as a metaphorical representation of Michelangelo’s personal feelings toward Tommaso, as the subject matter and drawing are both overtly homoerotic.” [21] But she argues that the love expressed here was not necessarily, or exclusively, of a sexual nature. Rather, “[b]y presenting himself as a platonically chaste lover of Cavalieri’s beauty, Michelangelo affirms the Protagorean notion of the superiority of man while simultaneously reinforcing the later Ficinian notion that earthly love and beauty facilitate a pathway to attainment of the divine.”[22]
Hemming each of these ideas together, it is tempting to suggest that Michelangelo saw non-physical expressions of love and affection among men, between men, as the very heart of his worldview. If so, this perspective lends credence to the argument that Michelangelo’s identity was more closely aligned with platonic and emotional connection rather than the alternative.
Even so, this is still perhaps not the entire story: another famous piece of artwork for those intrigued by the artist’s possible queerness is (ironically enough) The Last Judgment which remains a centerpiece of the Sistine Chapel. Among its dozens of features stands a pair of “kissing men” locked in an intimate embrace for all of eternity. One source argues that “[t]he kissing men in the Last Judgement in the Sistine Chapel are…representations of queer desire as well as Michelangelo’s concern for his soul.”[23] Perhaps Michelangelo’s experience of love was not wholly divorced from physical expressions, actualized or not, after all.
The Man, the Myth, the (Queer) Legend?
Taken together, there is considerable evidence that Michelangelo’s perspective on art, theology, the male form and perhaps even some of the males around him was some version of what we might consider queer today. Whatever else might be said about Michelangelo in this regard, his legacy makes it clear that strict categories and binaries rarely tell the complete story of how complex individuals relate to passion and sensuality.
By adopting a more nuanced and thoughtful view of queer history (or potential queer history), we can more easily tear down antiquated notions of how our forbears related to each other beyond heteronormative prescriptions. The evidence that Renaissance Florence had as robust and thriving a queer culture as any modern Western city alone belies the view that much at all separates the past from the present. In this sense, the “Renaissance man” Michelangelo is truly a man of the past, present and future.
[1] Gilbert, C. E.. “Michelangelo.” Encyclopedia Britannica, updated March 2, 2023. https://www.britannica.com/biography/Michelangelo.
[2] “Biography”, https://www.michelangelo.net/biography/.
[3] Gilbert, ibid.
[4] “Sistine Chapel”, https://www.michelangelo.net/sistine-chapel/.
[5] Gilbert, ibid.
[6] “Michelangelo 1475–1564.” Encyclopedia of Sex and Gender: Culture Society History. Encyclopedia.com, updated February 22, 2023. https://www.encyclopedia.com/social-sciences/encyclopedias-almanacs-transcripts-and-maps/michelangelo-1475-1564
[7] “Biography”, https://www.michelangelo.net/biography/.
[8] Ibid.
[9] James M. Saslow, “Michelangelo 1475–1564 .” Encyclopedia of Sex and Gender: Culture Society History. . Encyclopedia.com. (February 22, 2023). https://www.encyclopedia.com/social-sciences/encyclopedias-almanacs-transcripts-and-maps/michelangelo-1475-1564.
[10] George Armstrong, “FORBIDDEN FRIENDSHIPS: Homosexuality and Male Culture in Renaissance Florence,” The Los Angeles Times, November 2, 1997, https://www.latimes.com/archives/la-xpm-1997-nov-02-bk-49205-story.html.
[11] R.B. Parkinson, “The ‘Divine’ Prisoner,” A Little Gay History: Desire and Diversity Across the World, Columbia University Press, New York, 2013, pgs. 64 – 65.
[12] Saslow, ibid.
[13] Baylee Woodley, “Creation of Adam – Sistine Chapel (1508 – 1512)”, Queer Art History, April 27, 2020, https://www.queerarthistory.com/tag/michelangelo/.
[15] Jeffrey Fraiman, “James M. Saslow on Sensuality and Spirituality in Michelangelo’s Poetry,” The Met, January 5, 2018, https://www3.metmuseum.org/blogs/now-at-the-met/2018/james-saslow-interview-michelangelo-poetry.
[16] Parkinson, ibid.
[17] Ibid.
[18] Fraiman, ibid.
[19] Saslow, ibid.
[20] Kamna Kirti, “Why Michelangelo’s Women Were So Manly?”, Medium, October 1, 2021, https://medium.com/counterarts/why-michelangelos-women-were-so-manly-e65cc309c8b1.
[21] Caroline Harvey, “Seduction in the Male Form as Pathway to the Divine,” The Classic Journal, November 4, 2016, https://theclassicjournal.uga.edu/index.php/2016/11/04/seduction-in-the-male-form-as-pathway-to-the-divine/.
[22] Ibid.
[23] Woodley, ibid.