Antonio Canova and the Dead part 2

In my previous post, I noted that Antonio Canova’s sculptures come to life when he grapples with the suffering and pain of death and loss. Looking at these preparatory drawings on canvas* at the Museo Civico di Bassano del Grappa, I would add that Canova possessed an uncanny insight into human suffering—specifically our confrontation with the indisputable truth that we, and everyone we love, will eventually die. This was as true in Canova’s time as it remains today.

In Due Donne Piangenti, the room is devoid of any comfort. A simple stool is the only furniture needed—everything else is superfluous. In that moment, our pain is entirely solitary, beyond the reach of external comfort. This reality remains unchanged even for the more affluent among us; the only difference is that they may have a slightly more elaborate stool to sit upon while mourning (as in Compianto della Contessa De Haro).

In Donna Piangente Accanto ad un Busto, the sculpted bust stands as a stark reminder of what has been lost. In time, we are left only with photographs and recollections—and in that moment, we mourn not just the loss itself, but the painful fragility of our own memories.

But rise from mourning we must, as the living continue on with the ferocity of a lion.

*The preparatory drawings on canvas shown above represent an intermediate stage in Canova’s creation of the final sculptures, used primarily to study light and shadow.