Chapter Six

Rome, 1501

Michelangelo knocked on the door of his erstwhile assistant and waited. He knew Stefano was a heavy sleeper, but it was now after noon. A second knock brought no response. Finally, Michelangelo began to pound on the door. “Wake up, you lazy bastard! I need your help.”

Stefano stuck his head out the second floor window. “Is that you, Buonarotti?”

“Yes. What the hell are you doing that you make me wait in the street?”

“I am busy,” smirked Stefano.

“You old lecher. Have you got a woman in there with you?”

Stefano simply smiled.

“You do, don’t you, and no doubt, she’s married, and you thought I was her husband come a calling. Oh Stefano, will you never change?”

“No, my friend, I am afraid not.”

With that, the front door opened and a beautiful young woman with a torrent of red hair - easily 20 years younger than Stefano - strode out.

“Thank you very much, signore artist,” she hissed. “You have ruined what had the makings of a wonderful afternoon.”

“My deepest apologies, signora,” he said to her back as she stormed off down the street.

Entering the house, Michelangelo laughed and said, “And my apologies to you Stefano. Had I known...”

“She’s right you know,” Stefano mused. “It could have been an afternoon for the ages.” And then he laughed, “But there is always tomorrow, no?”

“I did bring you a present,” Michelangelo said, holding up the wineskin.

“You are a good friend. I forgive you - almost,” laughed Stefano as he fetched two cups.

“And how may I be of service to the great Michelangelo?” he asked as he set the cups on the table.

“I have a commission. I have been asked to carve a number of miniatures. As you know, I prefer working on a slightly larger scale, but if I can manage these, it may lead to even bigger assignments.”

“And who is your new patrono?”

“Leave that for now,” said Michelangelo. “When the time is right - if it ever is - you shall know all.”

“Sounds rather serious. In that case, how may I help?

Michelangelo decided to play to Stefano’s ego, “You are the greatest miniaturist I know - perhaps the greatest in all Italy.”

“I should think not,” said Stefano, feigning modesty, “but continue.”

“I must confess, Stefano, I am worried. This may be the most difficult undertaking of my life. Will I need any special tools for such miniatures.”

Stefano thought a moment and then said, “No. I shouldn’t think so. The gravers that you use for detail work on your larger pieces should suffice. Just make certain that you keep the cutting edges as sharp as possible at all times.”

“I will do that,” Michelangelo promised.

Steafano asked, “Exactly, what kind of miniatures are you talking about? I’ve seen your intricate work. It is magnificent.”

“I have been asked to create a series of cameos. Anything you can tell me would be of enormous help.”

Stefano smiled. “Now, that changes things somewhat.

Do you have any idea what medium will you be working in?”

“What are my options?” asked the artist.

“Well, cameos are generally made from either stones or shells. If you have a choice, use stone. It’s more plentiful for one; it’s obviously more durable; and it is certainly more forgiving.”

“Forgiving?”

“Yes. Consider the thickness of stone as opposed to that of a shell. You want to carve to the point where the stone or the shell changes color. That way your image sits on an intaglio. And you get the positive-negative effect. To that end, I suggest you use either onyx or agate. Of those two, I would always opt for agate. Of course, any stone where two contrasting colors meet will do, but there really aren’t all that many from which to choose.”

“What are the subjects?” asked Stefano.

“I’d rather not discuss that now.”

“You’re making it awfully difficult to help you, my friend.”

“I know, but I am hoping that my discretion will insure your safety. I pray you will understand.”

“I understand your patrono values his or privacy and has plenty of money to spare. By the way, this is excellent Chianti. The best I’ve had in quite some time, and since I know you wouldn’t ply me with something this good under ordinary circumstances, I can only assume your sponsor is paying for it. Please extend to him - or to her - my deepest gratitude.”

Stefano continued, “Speaking of patrons, you are still friendly with the Medici, are you not?”

“Of course. Why do you ask?”

“Because Lorenzo had one of the most beautiful cameos ever created in his private collection.”

“The scutella di calcedonio!” exclaimed Michelangelo. “How could I have forgotten!”

“Yes. That cup is perhaps my favorite piece. As soon as I saw it, I knew that it was the work of a genius,” Stefano added.

“I never did get to see it,” Michelangelo explained. “How is that possible? You lived in the Medici palace.”

“Yes. However, art was Lorenzo’s passion. He loved the great pieces almost as much as he loved his children - perhaps more,” laughed Michelangelo. “When that rabblerousing friar Savanorola and his Piagnoni began stoking the fires of unrest in Florence, Lorenzo decided to move many of the pieces in his collection to a remote country villa that he owned.”

“That was foresight on Lorenzo’s part, given that Savonarola eventually came to power,” Stefano said, “but now that monk is dead - hanged and then burned by the people of Florence. Surely you can contact one of Lorenzo’s sons and ask to see the scutella.”

“I grew up in that household and dined with Piero and Giovanni every night. Piero, who has succeeded his father, is an idiot. Those who call him ‘the unfortunate’ are being kind. Giovanni is another story, He is truly Lorenzo’s son in every way. One can only wonder how different things might have been had Piero become the cleric and Giovanni lived a secular life.

“At any rate, that is a splendid idea. I shall contact my old friend and see if he knows the location of the scutella and whether I may be permitted to examine it.”

“Pay close attention to the layering. You can see that the artist was working with just four layers and yet he managed to create a world in a small libation bowl. Although generally regarded as a cup, the scutella is really more a bowl, Michelangelo.”

After another swallow of wine, Stefano continued, “It’s not very large either, but it is breathtaking. After you see it, please let me know if you are as taken with it as I am.”

“I promise that I will,” Michelangelo said, and then he became very serious.

“Stefano, you are the only person I am telling about this project. For your sake - and mine - I beg you, speak of this to no one. Our safety and our lives may well depend upon your silence.”

“You make it all sound so ominous, Michelangelo. We are artists; the world pays little attention to us. They care only for our creations. But since you are being so mysterious, and since this Chianti is so good, you have my word. No one shall learn of this from me.”

“And if I need your help, can I call upon you?”

“Only if you bring another wineskin,” laughed Stefano. “This one is just about empty.”

Michelangelo laughed and said, “Have you drunk it all already?”

“Just about,” replied Stefano as he poured the last of the wine into his cup.

Michelangelo pondered his next move and decided that he would contact Giovanni and inquire about the scutella.

After that he would see about procuring some agate so that he might practice. At that moment, a sudden bolt of inspiration struck the artist.

Rising, he said, “Stefano, I will be in touch. Be well, my friend, and do stay away from the married ladies. It might be worth your life.”

Stefano laughed, “If I had your talent, I would sculpt them all - in the nude, of course.”

Michelangelo laughed again, and set out to put the first part of his plan into play.