Michelangelo's Moses is the superhero we don't deserve, but can't help idolizing.
This marble giant is not just a sculpture, but a monument to hypertrophic masculinity. In an era where the word "patriarchy" has been elevated from a noun to a conjunction, we need more than ever a biblical figure who exudes testosterone from every pore. And if you think Thor's biceps are impressive, wait until you see Moses'.
Michelangelo, the Antihero of the Renaissance
But before we talk about our superhero, we need to take a step back and get to know the man who created him: Michelangelo Buonarroti. He was the kind of artist who didn't let anyone walk all over him, not even the Pope himself. When he was commissioned for a sculpture, he didn’t say, “Yes, of course, Your Holiness,” but rather something along the lines of “I'll let you know” (to Pope Julius II, a man who, when in a bad mood, would first put on his armor, then raise an army, besiege you, and finally excommunicate you with a shout of “Let's make Rome great again”). And so, years, even decades, passed, and the Pope aged while waiting. But Michelangelo was in no rush. Good things take time, and his sculptures were far more than just good: they were legendary.
Michelangelo was a Renaissance badass, a Chuck Norris of sculpture, the Steven Seagal of chisels. Not only because, even at 90, he could still break apart a block of marble, attacking the stone like an eagle hunting a hare; not only because, if he bumped into Leonardo da Vinci on the street—dressed head-to-toe in Prada with his golden curls—Michelangelo, covered in dust and dressed in rags, wouldn’t hesitate to tell him off, even though Leonardo was the coolest genius ever conceived; not only because, when tasked with painting a ceiling the size of a tennis court, he did it lying on scaffolding 20 meters high, with abs constantly engaged and no waistline in sight; but because he stood up to his patrons, fought with anyone who got in his way, and had a soft spot for the nude human form, even in an era when the Church held public bonfires for much less.
Popes, cardinals, and patrons promised him mountains of gold, and Michelangelo demanded more, cashed in his payments, and then... ghosted them. When, after years, he finally delivered a masterpiece, anyone who had criticized him during the process was left speechless. If the wait made him seem lazy, the results crowned him a genius.
Moses: The Superhero with Horns
Now, let's talk about the main event: Michelangelo's Moses. This isn't the Moses with the long beard and the grandfatherly vibe, telling biblical stories by the fireplace. No, Michelangelo's Moses is a full-fledged action hero. Legend has it that Michelangelo, upon completing his masterpiece, exclaimed, "Why don't you speak?!"—so perfect was the sculpture. And it's fun to imagine Moses replying, "I'll let my biceps do the talking."
What we do know is that the sculpture looks ready to spring to life at any moment, rise up, and dispense divine justice with its enormous chiseled pecs and piercing gaze.
Horns: Accessory or Superpower?
And then there are the horns. Many art historians have tried to explain why Michelangelo decided to give his Moses a pair of horns, citing linguistic misunderstandings, translation errors, and medieval interpretations. But we all know the truth: the horns are Moses' secret weapon. What's more badass than a superhero with marble horns? They can be used to pop open a beer after a hard day of performing miracles, or as a defense tool when some fallen angel tries to mess with you.
These horns aren't just a stylistic flourish, but a message to anyone daring to challenge Moses' power.
The Physique: "No, I Don't Go to the Gym, It's All Natural"
And then there's his physique. Forget Hugh Jackman or Chris Hemsworth. Biceps, triceps, abs straight out of Prophet's Health—Moses is clearly the type who never skips arm day at the gym.
But don’t be fooled: it’s not just about aesthetics. Those muscles aren’t there by accident; they’re built to bear the weight of the stone tablets. Yes, because Moses isn’t merely holding the Ten Commandments, he’s gripping them with a bodybuilder’s grasp, as if ready to use them as a blunt weapon. Think of Thor with his hammer: now imagine Moses bringing the Egyptians back to virtue with headbutts and marble-tablet slams. He’s not just a man of law; he is the law incarnate.
The gaze that judges
But it's not just Moses' physique that makes him a biblical badass—it's his gaze. Those eyes stare at you with such intensity that it almost feels like he's saying, "Don't you dare make another golden calf." It’s the gaze of someone who’s seen too much: he’s wandered the desert for forty years, parted the Red Sea, and spoken with God atop a mountain. In short, he's not exactly the kind of guy you want to mess with.
Imagine being an idolater of the time, celebrating around that infamous golden calf. Suddenly, Moses shows up, rushing in the camp like a biblical Homelander and you already know it's not going to be a good day. One look, and you realize you better run. That’s the power of his gaze: he doesn’t need to lift a finger; one glance is enough to set everyone straight. Forget modern superheroes with their colorful suits and witty one-liners—Moses takes you down with the sheer force of divine disappointment.
Michelangelo: The Master of Strategic Delay
Now, while Moses is the ultimate biblical superhero, Michelangelo himself was hardly a figure to be overlooked. Let’s be honest, Michelangelo was the kind of artist who could have easily thrived in the 21st century, running a remote startup and consistently delivering projects after every deadline. His patrons, no matter how powerful, knew full well they couldn’t rush him. Pope Julius II? Just another client on the long list. Michelangelo never worked within the established timelines. And why should he have? He was Michelangelo, the master of marble, the Renaissance genius, the ninja turtle (status that he only gained after leaving Bologna, according to Paul Barolsky, “The Strange Case of the Young Michelangelo” in Arion: A Journal of Humanities and the Classics 21, no. 1, Spring/Summer 2013). If you wanted his art, you had to be prepared to wait.
The Tomb of Julius II, where the Moses resides, is the perfect example of this complicated relationship. Commissioned in 1505, the tomb was meant to be monumental—a marble pyramid that would outshine all other papal tombs. But, naturally, Michelangelo started, got distracted, worked on other commissions, and left the project hanging for decades. Meanwhile, Julius II passed away, and Michelangelo, unfazed, carried on as if nothing had happened.
When he finally completed the Moses in 1545—40 years after the original commission—despite the Pope having long been dead, no one dared to say a word. Because the Moses spoke for itself. The grandeur of the sculpture, its technical perfection, and that undeniable macho charisma overshadowed any criticism. And so what if, apart from Moses, the other figures on the tomb looked like they’d been ordered off Wish compared to the original designs? The sheer presence of the biblical superhero was enough to silence all doubts.
Michelangelo vs. Convention: Nude Art
Michelangelo wasn’t just a rebel with deadlines; one of Michelangelo's boldest aspects, aside from his legendary slowness in delivering commissions, was his love for depicting the human body in all its naked glory. In an era dominated by religious art and the Church's strict moral codes, Michelangelo had no qualms about portraying nude, muscular, perfect, and often overtly erotic figures.
The Sistine Chapel is a prime example of how Michelangelo didn’t shy away from nudity, even when the Church began raising eyebrows. His characters are vigorous, full of life, and radiating sensuality. If anyone dared suggest that a little more modesty wouldn’t hurt, he would respond with another, even bolder fresco. Michelangelo’s reaction to contemporary movements like LGBTQ+ would likely have been delivered in sharp Tuscan wit.
In the end, Michelangelo was a Renaissance rebel, a true badass artist who wasn’t intimidated by anyone. And Moses, with his horns, muscles, and fiery gaze, stands as the marble embodiment of how, when you combine the unparalleled talent of a genius with the tenacity of an untamable man, the result is an eternal masterpiece.
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