Eleonora Pucci, restorer of the Accademia Gallery in Florence, carefully paints brush strokes on the torso of one of the most famous sculptures in the world. For some time now he has had a privilege that anyone who carried out his profession would dream of: removing the dust from Michelangelo's David, in a very delicate operation that is carried out every two months in a gallery of the museum that was created especially for him.
“It is the time that we have considered appropriate to prevent the dust carried by visitors from causing damage to the statue. Also from time to time we find some little spiders that climb up to the head,” explains Pucci, leaning out from the portable scaffolding that the museum periodically rents for this purpose. Dust accumulates especially on the marble curls of hair, also the favorite place of these little inhabitants.
Pucci uses about four special synthetic fiber brushes for each part of the statue's body, and also a vacuum cleaner that ensures that not a trace of dirt is left on it. He has a final weapon: a camera with which he portrays every curve of Michelangelo's marble to the millimeter, to carry out exhaustive monitoring of his state of health. “It's like a clinical report,” he compares. The entire documentation, in the end, serves to monitor at all times possible changes that appear on its surface.
I used to clean the David about every month and a half, but now, thanks to experience, they have come to the conclusion that two months is enough time to prevent the accumulation of dust, filaments carried on clothing or moisture from the Breathing can affect the luminosity of the marble. The objective is to prevent substances linked to human presence from causing any minimal damage. In the end, between 7,000 and 9,000 visitors pass by it every day, and this inevitably creates a constant flow of particles that travel over all the museum's works.
“I wonder what he must think with so many people coming to see him. If she understands them or understands them when they take photos of her,” confesses the restaurateur, 39 years old, Florentine by birth. She is lucky enough to spend a lot of time alone with this Renaissance masterpiece, so she has created a personal bond. “I know him perfectly. Every vein, every muscle… it's like taking care of a loved one,” she smiles, perched on the scaffolding with her helmet on.
Buonarroti was very young when he was commissioned to sculpt a colossal statue for the top of the cathedral of Santa Maria del Fiore. He was only 26 years old, and, despite the low quality of the chosen marble and the complexity of the order, he accepted it. In 1501 he began sculpting it and finished it three years later, turning the biblical king into a metaphor for the independence and power of the Florentines. The statue, 517 centimeters high and weighing 5,560 kilos, did not end up crowning the cathedral but in the middle of the street, in front of the Old Palace of Florence, to symbolize the political virtues of the Florentine Republic. It was left exposed to the vagaries of the weather, until in the mid-19th century, a commission of artists, technicians and scientists decided that it was urgent to protect it from the elements. Thus, in 1872 the decision was made to remove the statue and look for a museum space that could house it. They chose the Accademia Gallery, where a tribune was planned in honor of the artist, a secular temple covered with glass that still guarantees maximum natural light today. The transfer, in 1873, 150 years ago, was carried out during seven summer days, a titanic undertaking for which part of the wall at the entrance of the building had to be destroyed.
“He is our advertising head and our commercial head. He brings all the visitors to greet the rest of our works as well,” jokes Cecilie Hollberg, director of the Academy Gallery. Asked about the study carried out a few years ago that concluded that the icon had small fractures in the lower part of its legs due to its own inclination – which could endanger the integrity of this sculpture – Hollberg assures that there is no danger and that the museum is checking the statue's fragile ankles. Some cracks also appear on the marble. “He feels great and works very well for us,” Hollberg reassures.
