Dying Slave

Meet the 'Dying Slave', a figure who is—let's be honest—far too beautiful to be having a bad day. Sculpted between 1513 and 1516, this character was originally just one part of a massively ambitious, and ultimately doomed, project: the tomb of Pope Julius II. This tomb was supposed to be a colossal, three-story monument with over 40 statues, but it became one of history's greatest examples of project mismanagement, dragging on for 40 years and shrinking dramatically in scope. So, what's with the "slave"? Interpretations are all over the map. Some early critics suggested the slaves represented territories conquered by the pope. Others, more poetically, thought they symbolized the liberal arts, now left in bondage after the death of their great patron, Julius II. A more modern, philosophical take is that the figure represents the human soul trapped by the physical body, a popular Neoplatonic idea. Whatever the case, he doesn't look much like a traditional prisoner; the bands around his torso are loose, and his pose is more of a sleepy, sensual surrender than a struggle. Notice the sinuous, twisting pose and the almost impossibly smooth finish on the front. But take a peek around the back, and you’ll see the rough chisel marks—a fascinating glimpse into the process, revealing how the figure seems to emerge from the raw marble. Behind his leg, there’s even a roughly carved ape, an odd detail that just adds to the mystery. Originally paired with a more combative 'Rebellious Slave', this figure was eventually cut from the tomb's final, scaled-down design. After being deemed surplus to requirements, it was given away as a rather extravagant thank-you gift.