Cutesy Caravaggio v. Manly Michelangelo
An Italian Antihero’s Time to Shine
ROME — By at least one amusing new metric, Michelangelo’s unofficial 500-year run at the top of the Italian art charts has ended. Caravaggio, who somehow found time to paint when he wasn’t brawling, scandalizing pooh-bahs, chasing women (and men), murdering a tennis opponent with a dagger to the groin, fleeing police assassins or getting his face mutilated by one of his many enemies, has bumped him from his perch.
That’s according to an art historian at the University of Toronto, Philip Sohm. He has studied the number of writings (books, catalogs and scholarly papers) on both of them during the last 50 years. Mr. Sohm has found that Caravaggio has gradually, if unevenly, overtaken Michelangelo.
He has charts to prove it.
The change, most obvious since the mid-1980s, doesn’t exactly mean Michelangelo has dropped down the memory hole. To judge from the throngs still jamming the Sistine Chapel and lining up outside the Accademia in Florence to check out “David,” his popularity hasn’t dwindled much.
But, charts or no charts, Mr. Sohm has touched on something. Caravaggiomania, as he calls it, implies not just that art history doctoral students may finally be struggling to think up anything fresh to say about Michelangelo. It suggests that the whole classical tradition in which Michelangelo was steeped is becoming ever more foreign and therefore seemingly less germane, even to many educated people. His otherworldly muscle men, casting the damned into hell or straining to emerge from thick blocks of veined marble, aspired to an abstract and bygone ideal of the sublime, grounded in Renaissance rhetoric, which, for postwar generations, now belongs with the poetry of Alexander Pope or plays by Corneille as admirable but culturally remote splendors.







In August, the man slicked back his hair and pretended to be a member of a salsa band playing the Greek Theatre. He talked a clerk at the Wilshire Grand hotel into giving him the keys to the band’s room and made off with $9,000. On his way out, he gave the clerk the band’s CD.
The evisceration of Variety continues.
Installing “Your History is Not Our History: New York in the 1980s” at Haunch of Venison gallery felt like Christmas morning for artist Richard Phillips, who organized the show with artist David Salle. “The crates came and it was was like opening present after present after present,” Phillips said at the show’s opening Friday night, as guests including Julian Schnabel, Francesco Clemente, Jeffrey Deitch, Jerry Saltz, Cynthia Rowley, Kim Gordon, Thurston Moore, and James Frey, took in Prince’s and Salle’s re-telling of the ’80s art world in New York City, a time period during which they believe artists’ work is often mis-remembered as being oppositional of one another and representative of exclusive critical positions.








