The other day, while browsing Substack for something intriguing, I stumbled upon the piece titled “Where is Michelangelo today?” It got me pondering the state of art today, which seems barren due to the loss of ideals and objective truths, along with the surge of mass consumerism and a decline in humanistic values.
David’s narrative deserves Michelangelo’s artistry. It’s a tale that resonates with our shared human history.
The author suggested he hadn’t seen anything comparable to Michelangelo in today’s artists—not because they don’t exist, but because our society is out of touch with how to cultivate such talent.
To illustrate, consider that the world’s fastest runner might be hidden in a struggling village. If that village is starved of proper nutrition, their potential will never fully develop.
The same idea goes for artists of a Michelangelo caliber. They require specific nourishment—intellectual and cultural—to unlock their true potential.
Contrapposto Forgery
This line of thought led me to reflect on a recent unveiling in Times Square that’s stirred quite a conversation. You’ve probably heard about it.
The 12-foot bronze sculpture, “Grounded to the Stars,” depicts an overweight Black woman in casual attire with her hands placed firmly on her hips. Created by Thomas J. Price, it draws inspiration from Michelangelo’s “David,” one of the most revered sculptures.
A quick glance reveals that while “Grounded to the Stars” is inspired by “David,” it never reaches that same celestial level. I think most folks agree on this.
My main question, though—why? Why is it that no one asserts that Price’s piece could achieve the same artistic summit as Michelangelo’s “David”?
Technical Style
Is the distinction purely about craftsmanship?
While “David” showcases intricate anatomical details—his fingers and muscles almost alive—”Grounded to the Stars” employs a more streamlined aesthetic.
Moreover, the technical skill displayed in “David” is even more noteworthy considering the rudimentary tools available to Michelangelo. He meticulously carved the statue from a single block of marble, which had been deemed flawed by others.
Michelangelo had zero room for error. In contrast, Price likely utilized digital modeling and other modern technologies to refine his work before casting.
Are these differences in technique what create the divide between these two works?
Artists and critics will tell you it’s only part of the story. “David” holds a place in the artistic canon not just for its technical beauty but for deeper reasons.
While many people recognize “David” as a pinnacle of artistic achievement, pinpointing why is trickier. They’ll likely resort to generalizations—like its biblical significance or its creators’ renown—without hitting the heart of the matter.
All true, yet it feels insufficient.
Society seems to have lost sight of what true greatness means. We can recognize great art, yes, but our understanding often doesn’t go beyond the visual aspect. It’s akin to knowing water exists yet having no grasp of its molecular composition.
We recognize “David” as a symbol of artistic excellence, whereas “Grounded to the Stars” does not carry that weight, but are we aware of why?
If we did, perhaps the art in Times Square would reflect a higher standard. But for that to occur, we need to relearn what greatness is made of.
Comparing these two sculptures is a solid start.
The Strength of Stone
The Renaissance, when Michelangelo sculpted “David,” marked a revival of classical antiquity, mainly influenced by ancient Greek and Roman arts and philosophies.
This era was driven by certain ideals surrounding artistic legacy and permanence, much like the Greek sculptors of the Parthenon and Roman artists of Augustus.
Just as we measure the worth of digital content through its reach, Renaissance artists believed that if their works achieved excellence, they would endure through time. Generations might come and go, empires may rise and fall, yet their art would persist—barring natural disasters, of course.
When Michelangelo undertook the task of “liberating” David from an 18-foot block of Carrara marble—considered unworkable by two other sculptors—he understood the weight of his labor.
He wasn’t simply replicating historical figures; he was creating history. “David” would transcend its time, guiding viewers for centuries.
Over 500 years since its completion, “David” attracts thousands of visitors daily. But what makes it so enduring?
For one, it’s undeniably beautiful. Michelangelo aimed to embody the ideal human form—a concept rooted in Renaissance humanism.
Yet this isn’t the only reason for “David’s” timelessness.
Beauty and truth, they always seem interconnected. “David” embodies courage, heroism, and moral resolve. Its narrative of a citizen’s victory over tyranny, fueled by unwavering faith, resonates deeply.
It tells the story of an underdog—a theme that continues to inspire us today. We all face our Goliaths, whether they’re in the form of personal challenges or societal pressures.
That determination to say, “I will rise,” pushes us—and that resonates even with those who might not share David’s faith.
His journey is a universal one. As long as there are giants to face, David’s story will endure.
Bronze Tokenism
So what about the narrative behind “Grounded to the Stars”? While the title suggests themes of beauty, strength, and legacy, it’s not really focused on anyone in particular.
According to the artist, it’s a composite fictional character designed to imagine a world without biases or misrepresentations.
Thus, this piece doesn’t celebrate an individual story but instead promotes a rejection of excellence, aiming to uplift mediocrity—not because someone is noble, but simply because of their identity.
That’s a rather disheartening message.
The Art of the Victim
For genuinely marginalized individuals, this artwork may do little to express resilience or strength. It doesn’t encourage overcoming odds or striving for better days.
Rather, it fosters a culture of victimhood. It’s a narrative that crystallizes bitterness and brands it as a badge of honor.
This approach robs marginalized individuals of the very tools they need to escape their circumstances. It represents tokenism under the guise of empowerment, holding people back while tricking them into believing they’ve advanced.
And for those in positions of privilege, this statue serves as a misguided reminder of guilt—a divisive tactic wrapped in the form of a bronze icon.
If the goal is to foster understanding, this piece achieves the opposite, further entrenching divisiveness.
Example of Age
My pressing question is—what symbols do we respect for fostering alienation? Before his ascension as king, David was a shepherd, among the most disregarded in biblical times, often deemed expendable.
He was a humble worker, existing on the fringes of society, lacking influence or privilege. He was young and inexperienced, hardly expected to confront Goliath.
Yet, grounded in faith and courage, he did.
No story better illustrates a marginalized individual rising to greatness than David’s. It’s a legacy worth preserving, a heritage continuous throughout human history.
In contrast, Price’s bronze woman embodies the transient values of today, heavily tied to identity politics, and is unlikely to endure beyond her creator.
Planned Obsolescence
By June, this statue will likely be removed from its prominent spot in Times Square, relegated to a private gallery or worse, storage. It will face the same fate as much modern art—a mere ripple in time, quickly forgotten.
But I’m not directing blame at Price. As the article stated, “A culture starved for deep beliefs is shallow soil for great artists.”
If we wish to cultivate remarkable art again, we need to embrace the values that uplift the human spirit and illuminate the way forward.
Only then can we create art that genuinely aspires to the stars.
