Risen Christ Carrying the Cross

Long regarded as the work of an anonymous yet capable seventeenth-century sculptor, the statue of the Risen Christ Carrying the Cross in the Sanctuary of the Holy Face of the Benedictine Silvestrine Congregation in Bassano Romano (a church formerly dedicated to Saint Vincent Martyr) was once thought to be a free interpretation of Michelangelo’s celebrated Christ the Redeemer, executed between 1519 and 1521 for the Dominican church of Santa Maria sopra Minerva in Rome. That commission had been made by Metello Vari (1514) on behalf of Marta Porcari and the Porcari heirs. In reality, the Bassano sculpture is a work of major significance for the history of art—not only for the originality of its composition, addressing such a delicate subject at a time when the first winds of the Lutheran Reformation were blowing, but also for the singular, perhaps unique, vicissitudes that the sculpture has undergone over time.

After several failed attempts at identification, the statue was rediscovered for scholarship thanks to the insightful intuition of Irene Baldriga, who, by correlating stylistic, material, and documentary evidence, connected it with a letter sent by Metello Vari to Michelangelo (December 13, 1521). The letter recalls the sculptor’s decision to abandon work on a marble block: “a black vein or line appeared in the face [still visible on the left cheek of Christ], and you left it as finished [i.e. discarded] and made another one in Florence.” Vari’s letter leaves no doubt that the statue now in Bassano Romano is the first version of the risen Christ commissioned from Michelangelo in 1514: “a Christ life-size, nude, standing, holding a cross in his arm, in such an attitude as shall please Michelangelo himself […], which he promises to set up in the Minerva” (contract dated June 15, 1514).

The interruption of the work was thus due to a flaw in the marble in a critical area. It has been proposed that Michelangelo may have reused a block he already had in his studio that he had set aside for the Tomb of Julius II after the reduction in the number of statues in the mausoleum project demanded by the pope’s heirs. In any event, once the four years prescribed by the contract for the execution and installation of the sculpture had passed, the patron once again pressed for its realization and although Michelangelo had left Rome, he produced a new version, quite different in pose. Even so, the patron faced considerable difficulty in obtaining the statue, ultimately pleading with Michelangelo to complete the work he had left unfinished.

The second version finally arrived from Florence and was installed in the Basilica of Santa Maria sopra Minerva on December 27, 1521, under the supervision of his trusted friend Sebastiano del Piombo. Dissatisfied with this version as well—due to the poor finishing by his assistants Pietro Urbano and Federico Frizzi—Michelangelo expressed his intention to create a third Christ the redeemer entirely from scratch. Metello Vari firmly opposed this and, instead, received as a gift the first ‘defective’ version—the one rejected due to the dark vein running across Christ’s face—which he placed in the garden of his Roman residence, preserving it “as his greatest honor, as if it were gold,” and rewarding the sculptor with a purebred colt. Certainly, not everyone could own a sculpture by the ‘divine’ Michelangelo, a privilege that banker Jacopo Galli had once enjoyed with the Bacchus rejected by Cardinal Riario. However, that was a youthful, mythological work, far removed from the political and religious gravitas that was by then attributed to Michelangelo.

In the courtyard of Metello Vari’s Roman residence, the statue was observed by the scholar Ulisse Aldrovandi in 1556, who tersely described it as “a nude Christ with the Cross on the right side, unfinished because of a vein discovered in the marble of the face, a work of Michelangelo, given to Messer Metello; and another similar to this, now in the Minerva, was made at the expense of Messer Metello by the said Michelangelo.” As the botanist and naturalist he was, Aldrovandi did not question the existence of two similar Michelangelo sculptures, nor did he offer any kind of evaluation, but his precise words provide clear evidence for identifying the sculpture with the one now preserved in Bassano Romano, noting the vein in the face and the substantial stylistic and dimensional similarity (‘another similar to this’) with the Christ in Santa Maria sopra Minerva, with which it also shares the same height (the second version being only 4 cm taller—205 cm versus 201 cm for the Bassano Christ).

Kept from public view, confined within private walls, the Risen Christ Carrying the Cross disappears from record until 1607, when the painter Domenico Cresti, known as Passignano, then active in Rome for the Grand Duke of Tuscany, invited Francesco Buonarroti—Michelangelo’s nephew and Knight of Malta (and amateur architect)—to see “a rough marble block by Michelangelo of the same Minerva Christ, but in a different posture; he likes it and believes that the price will be little more than the value of the marble itself, the figure, as you know, being life-size;” even more interesting is the fact that, due to its evident ‘unfinished’ state, the Christ was compared with some of Michelangelo’s most famous sculptures: “this rough block was at the same stage as the St. Matthew in the Opera and the Prisoners in the Pitti,” even though it had already “been touched by another hand, for certain.”

Observing the degree of ‘unfinishedness’ in the St. Matthew preserved at the Opera del Duomo Museum in Florence and the Slaves now at the Galleria dell’Accademia, also in Florence, it is difficult to fully agree with Passignano’s remarks. Yet one point must be made clear: the status of the Christ was certainly not as it is today. Moreover, Passignano’s testimony represents an exceptionally important instance of comparative, engaged art criticism (particularly his observation of the ‘different posture’ compared to the Minerva version) expressed by a master, a compatriot of Michelangelo, nurtured in the myth of the artist, yet capable of forming his own judgment, refraining from recommending its purchase. He was supported in this assessment by another Tuscan master, Ludovico Cardi, known as Cigoli, who was at the time considered the leading exponent of Florentine painting. The beneficiary of this enterprise was none other than Michelangelo Buonarroti the Younger, the first to construct the myth of his illustrious ancestor, investing substantial sums of money and establishing a gallery in the house in Florence that still bears his name, which would have been enriched by this extraordinary piece.

The reasons the acquisition failed are uncertain. The price (300 scudi) was not excessive, and the attribution was certain. Perhaps Passignano’s enthusiasm cooled due to the ‘other hand’ intervention, or Cigoli’s piety was unsettled by the human nakedness of Christ. Florence had not long recovered from Bartolomeo Ammannati’s 1582 autodafé before the Accademia del Disegno, during which the elderly sculptor, following the lead of certain Counter-Reformation theorists, publicly renounced his works depicting nudes. Ultimately, the justification was the excessive cost: “Signor Passignano resolutely advises against taking the block, since it is certainly touched by another hand, and though at first it was said to be worth only the marble’s value, now they ask 300 scudi, which it is not worth, and he advises completely against it.” Thus, the sculpture never made its way to Florence, where it had been carved, but remained in Rome and entered one of the era’s most prestigious collections, that of the Giustiniani family.

Thanks to Silvia Danesi Squarzina’s research on the inventories of the Giustiniani family, it is possible to trace the presence of the sculpture in the collections of their Roman residence from 1638, when it is recorded as “a standing nude Christ with a modern metal cloth draped across, embracing with his right hand a trunk of the Cross with rope and sponge, and three pieces of the cross on the ground, nine palms high.” Unfortunately, the year and circumstances of its entry into the collection remain unknown. An indication of Vincenzo Giustiniani’s appreciation for Michelangelo is found in his Discourse on Sculpture (dated 1620–1630), where a masterpiece of classical art, the so–called Meleagro Pighini, is compared with the Christ of the Minerva: “Michelangelo’s Christ, holding the Cross seen in the church of Minerva, which is most beautiful and executed with skill and diligence.” Shortly thereafter, Vincenzo would come into possession of the Risen Christ Carrying the Cross. In 1644, thanks to Andrea, Vincenzo’s adopted son, the sculpture (“Statuam Sanctissimi Salvatoris fabre factam e marmore”) was transferred to the Church of San Vincenzo Martire in Bassano Romano, the Giustiniani fief, where it remains today.

Although no documentary evidence exists regarding the author (or authors) of the seventeenth–century intervention on the sculpture, a faint clue comes from an October 1618 letter by Carlo Barberini to his brother Cardinal Maffeo (the future Pope Urban VIII): “Signor Cavalier Passignano once told me that a statue begun by Michelangelo remained here near the Palazzo D’Alessandro, and that he would complete it; if it could be obtained at a good price through Passignano himself, I would take it, because Bernini’s son, who is highly skilled, would perfect it.” This testimony formed the starting point for Frommel’s proposal attributing the finishing of the first version of the Christ of the Minerva to Bernini. Yet the document reveals much more about the credibility enjoyed at the time by Pietro Bernini’s son, the twenty-year-old Gian Lorenzo, who, together with his father⸺precisely in those years—was co-creating the sculptural group Aeneas, Anchises, and Ascanius Fleeing Troy (Rome, Galleria Borghese) and was already considered capable of measuring himself against a giant such as Michelangelo.

Following the rediscovery of Michelangelo’s authorship, the then Superintendency for the Historical and Artistic Heritage of Rome and Lazio, at the conclusion of the exhibitions of the work in Rome and Berlin (2001), designated as its permanent location the Chapel of the Christ Carrying the Cross, the first chapel on the right in the Sanctuary of the Holy Face in Bassano Romano. There, the work was reinstalled on the seventeenth-century altar and equipped with appropriate protective and conservation measures.

Pierluigi Carofano

PhD – Specialist in Archaeology and Art History, Curator of the collections at the Medici Museum of Livorno

Gabriele Accornero

Cultural Manager Advisor to the Federico II Foundation