Seven pigments extracted from minerals
Seven pigments extracted from minerals.
Today, we speculate that Michelangelo mixed water with seven pigments extracted from minerals to paint the ceiling fresco.
It's truly astonishing that the Sistine ceiling was painted using only seven pigments.
Excerpt from an interview with Professor Park Ji-yeop of the Department of Visual Arts at Hanyang University of Arts and Journalist Lee Ji-hye -
"...Huff, huff."
Jin Yumi was breathing heavily, which was unlike her, and looked around.
Outside, the sky that had been blue and white had passed the reddish glow of sunset and was now turning black.
Jin Yumi glanced briefly at the neon signboards starting to glow on the street and, catching her breath, looked straight ahead.
The scent of the sea tickled her nose.
Kang Seok was carrying a large piece of glass, heading toward the hastily prepared workbench.
Jin Yumi, watching Kang Seok's back, firmly grabbed her knees with her palms and straightened her back.
'The artist doesn't rest, so where do I have time to catch my breath, huff.'
At the same time as panting, Jin Yumi took a notebook out of her pocket and flipped through the pages quickly.
The list written densely, as if a notebook page had been filled, had many lines drawn across it.
Following those lines with her pen, Jin Yumi started scanning around.
"Indigofera tinctoria. Padu oil. Blue jade-like conch shells and living sea snails, forget-me-nots, ash powder, kaolin, soda, coal residue, charcoal, silicon dioxide, sulfur, indigo leaves..."
What she was doing was an inspection.
She was checking whether the materials Kang Seok had ordered were properly procured. Every time she verified each material, Jin Yumi nodded with satisfaction.
She thought it was incredible that she had managed to gather all these materials in less than a day.
"Chrysocolla. Bicoalstone. Stannic oxide. Chromium, and lapis lazuli... all here."
Jin Yumi's shoulders sank.
Lowering her hand, she roughly wiped the sweat off her forehead.
Her gaze was fixed on the minerals on the workbench. In her eyes, looking at the minerals with a somewhat doubtful expression, there was certainty.
At first, Jin Yumi wondered where on earth these were needed.
But from the moment "chrysocolla" was mentioned, she grew suspicious... and at "lapis lazuli" she became certain.
'All of these are materials to make natural pigments.'
Jin Yumi was also a curator, a professional who had worked hard preparing portfolios to get into one of Korea's top Bloom Museums.
With a master's degree and two years of work experience, she had acquired a Grade 3 certified art curator license and was considered a relatively young talent on the elite track.
She could not help but understand.
'They're planning to make the pigment powders from scratch.'
Her gaze shifted again.
The glass Kang Seok put on the workbench, the hammer, the cloth to prevent particles from escaping, the pestle and mortar, the glass muller — only then did everything fall into place.
They were all obvious hints.
'But wait, wouldn't linseed oil (the most common oil used in oil painting) be needed in this case... hold on.'
Despite ordering all these materials, Kang Seok hadn't asked for any oil even once.
Jin Yumi's head swung sharply.
Nope? No, there's none. Not a single drop!
There was no canvas or brush anywhere in the studio. Not even the common easel.
None of those typical painting supplies were among Kang Seok's orders. So does that mean it hasn't yet been decided what to make with these pigments?
Depending on how pigments are handled, they can become watercolor paint materials, oil paint materials, water-soluble oil paints, or sometimes... sometimes...
Jin Yumi tried to recall.
A memory flashed.
'Has Kang Seok ever painted with watercolors or oils before...?'
It didn't seem so.
She didn't know if he had done it in school or personally made any artwork, but one thing was clear.
Among Kang Seok's works that had recently been the talk of the town, there was no watercolor or oil painting.
As this thought came to her...
The name of a frequently tagged photo spot on Instagram recently came to mind.
Sistina.
On the 8th floor of Renaissance Mall, the Sistina Cafe had
Fresco.
...No way...
At that moment, Jin Yumi looked at Kang Seok in surprise.
Kang Seok, who had placed the glass on the workbench and was inspecting the quality of the materials that had arrived, turned around.
He quickly thanked the stunned Jin Yumi for getting the materials and added in the gentlest tone:
"Um... this isn't urgent, but could you get some lime and volcanic ash (brown volcanic ash)? Also, if you could find a large rubber or stainless steel container, that would be great. Oh, and the stuff used to apply plaster on the wall..."
His following explanation made it clear.
Kang Seok was planning to do fresco painting.
Here, in Miami Beach, Florida...!
A light shone in Jin Yumi's eyes.
Fresco is a painting technique that uses the properties of limestone changing by heat, water, and carbon dioxide.
Before the plaster wall dries, pigments mixed with water are applied so that the pigment penetrates the wall and as the plaster dries, the pigment and plaster become one and solidify as part of the wall.
This is fresco painting.
This meant that if Kang Seok painted a fresco in this building in Miami Beach, it would become part of the building itself and could not be moved.
Just like Kang Seok's
Why Miami Beach?
Since he had no particular connection there, he had come to Art Basel Miami Beach along with the Bloom Museum.
There wouldn't be any related museum or gallery in Miami Beach. He probably didn't have time to talk with Arthur, whom she had met earlier.
Then... this was an opportunity.
Jin Yumi smiled awkwardly and asked.
"Um... when would you need me to get these by?"
"Three days? Four days? That would be great... is that possible?"
Jin Yumi nodded.
Three or four days.
That was enough time to prepare and hold a strategy meeting.
A fresco by Kang Seok was coming to Miami Beach.
And if the building was owned by the Bloom Museum, this would be huge.
Jin Yumi quickly turned and shouted to Kang Seok.
"Then, I'll hurry to find the best plaster materials on earth...!"
"Huh?"
The best plaster on earth?
Kang Seok watched the back of Jin Yumi running like a sprinter in heels, then absentmindedly scratched his nose.
It was Kang Seok's unique habit when embarrassed or awkward, a trait that seemed odd now that his nose was higher than before.
Behind Kang Seok, the moonlight was rising.
It was night already.
The studio after Jin Yumi left.
Kang Seok slowly sat down on a chair.
Surrounded by minerals, shells, and plants, with the smell of an apothecary, sitting there felt... how to put it — like sitting between forest, field, and sea.
It was strange.
Sniffing that awkward air, Kang Seok held a fairly large lapis lazuli stone.
Lapis lazuli is the mineral used to make ultramarine pigment, derived from Latin meaning "beyond the sea" blue.
This naturally formed blue stone, supplied exclusively from Afghanistan for 6,000 years, produced an incredibly beautiful pigment.
Cennino Cennini said it was "the most dazzling, beautiful, and perfect color surpassing all others."
And Kangseok also loved this color very much in his past life.
No, it wasn't just him.
The blue pigment extracted from lapis lazuli was elegant and noble, loved by all Renaissance painters.
The archaic method passed down from 9th century Arabian alchemy—removing pyrite and white calcite to obtain blue lazurite—gave Renaissance painters poverty in exchange for producing high-quality ultramarine.
The noble blue.
Before synthetic ultramarine was permanently made from French ultramarine, alchemists hammered, crushed, and ground lapis lazuli as if they were mad scientists just to get 4 grams from 100 grams of lapis lazuli.
Kangseok rolled a lapis lazuli ball in his hand and glanced sideways.
The desk was covered with lapis lazuli everywhere.
Huh.
Impressive.
To think I became someone who recklessly uses lapis lazuli (azurite)... Kangseok smiled between his lips, recalling the time he was known as a penny-pincher like Michelangelo.
But this time, he had to use lapis lazuli.
Because there was no natural blue pigment as long-lasting as ultramarine emitted by lapis lazuli, which had made Renaissance painters poor.
He could have used a cheaper azurite, but having experienced for thousands of years how the green inside azurite's blue can eventually turn brown despite all precautions, he couldn't bring himself to use it.
Nor could he use Prussian blue, which was later used as an azurite substitute.
Chemical pigments do not last as long as natural pigments. Prussian blue, a chemical pigment, is cheap and easy to produce but is sensitive to alkalis.
Being close to the sea, where alkali exposure could cause Prussian blue to turn brown, it was unusable.
Putting aside that he could afford lapis lazuli, he was worried about the color changes that would occur thousands of years later, so simply buying Prussian blue for cost-effectiveness was out of the question.
Fresco, as a standard technique, when completed properly, becomes one with the wall and maintains its color for thousands of years.
That's why ancient Roman frescos have lasted over 2000 years despite less-than-ideal preservation conditions.
Of course, restoration efforts have altered them over time, but still… Kangseok thought while rolling the lapis lazuli.
This time, he vowed to create a perfect fresco that would not require restoration, leaving it for the world.
Now it was time to start working.
Kangseok went to the workbench and first grabbed a heavy hammer. There were no assistants now. Though he never trusted assistants much, it was clear he had to do it all by himself from start to finish.
He swung the heavy hammer a few times in the air like wielding a weapon, then went to the empty workbench and struck the lapis lazuli.
Crack. He felt it cracking under his powerful blows and hit it again. The sound echoed endlessly like a blacksmith's hammering.
In front of a dark night window, Kangseok's back gradually became soaked with sweat. As if unaware he had just endured a 14-hour flight without rest, he swung the hammer so hard rain seemed to fall on his back.
It looked as if a god had descended behind him.
.
.
.
Kangseok swung the hammer as if he would never stop, but he couldn't keep hitting forever.
The next day, Kangseok walked through a safer street under the rising sun. His pockets held a phone and wallet.
Because he didn't have a smell, he wore yesterday's sweatless short-sleeve shirt as he walked along the seaside road.
Following the sandy beach path, he looked at a building.
Then—
"I can't take it anymore!"
"Yeah, go! Just go!"
Kangseok's head tilted slightly toward the voices.
Familiar Italian voices came out from inside a white building in agitated tones.
Kangseok hesitated entering, looked up at the building. It had a beautiful color like ground white clam shells. He knocked the building lightly with his fist and looked around it.
Not bad.
Kangseok smirked.
At that moment, voices came from inside again.
"You think this building will ever sell? It never will! Who would sell if you keep asking that price? How many times have you hiked up the price with your mother stories? Starve to death clinging to that building your whole life! I brought people thinking they were hometown friends!"
"If you won't sell at the price I offered, then get lost!"
Seems like the price negotiations had failed.
Kangseok slowly approached.
The building looked like a temple.
Its left and right wings spread open like arms, and the inside curved round as if pulling you in. Kangseok approached it.
Inside the building, some people with distinct Italian features were arguing, their faces red. Actually, the fight was just ending.
One looked like giving up, walking away, while a man with dark brown to almost black hair ruffled his hair and sat down in frustration.
Kangseok slowly approached him.
After hesitating, he spoke.
"Hello."
Though the accent was old, Kangseok's Italian sounded refined.
As a Roman noblewoman once described Michelangelo: "He could be an elegant and charming gentleman whenever he wished. Such grace was rare even in Europe."
His voice overflowed with dignity.
It was remarkable to convey that feeling with just a greeting.
The man sitting down raised his head, forgetting the situation, drawn by the voice.
With the sun behind him, Kangseok's face was half shadowed, half lit. The man looked at Kangseok's high nose and gentle lips with a dazed expression.
Then—
Kangseok looked into his brown eyes and said authoritatively:
"How about selling it to me?"
Without even hearing the terms, the man thought it was a fairly attractive offer.
.
.
.
[Q. Mirinae Newspaper Lee Ji-hye: Talking with the professor about Michelangelo Buonarroti is quite enjoyable. May I ask one more question?]
[A. Park Ji-yeop: (Laughs) I'm glad you're enjoying it. Ask away.]
[Q. Mirinae Newspaper Lee Ji-hye: Besides Michelangelo's artistic traits, if you had to introduce a lesser-known characteristic, what would it be?]
[A. Park Ji-yeop: That's an interesting and unique question. (Thinking) Hmm. Since Michelangelo Buonarroti lived a very long time, there are countless stories about him. He changed perspectives many times and his philosophy evolved repeatedly.]
[Q. Mirinae Newspaper Lee Ji-hye: Still, if you had to choose one?]
[A. Park Ji-yeop: (Crossing arms, thinking) If I had to choose one, it would be his unusual attachment to land.]
[Q. Mirinae Newspaper Lee Ji-hye: Land? You mean property?]
[A. Park Ji-yeop: Yes. According to Michelangelo's 1534 property report, he owned six houses and seven plots of land in Florence, Setignano, Rovezzano, Stradello, San Stefano, and Davozzo Latino. Look around. (Laughs) A genius obsessed with the human body and sculpture buying buildings and land with every penny he earned—that might be Michelangelo's reincarnation.]