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Tom Gurney BSc (Hons) is an art history expert with over 20 years experience
Published on June 19, 2020 / Updated on August 8, 2026
Email: tomgurney1@gmail.com / Phone: +44 7429 011000

Michelangelo’s Torment of Saint Anthony

In The Torment of Saint Anthony, a solitary saint hangs in the air while demons swarm around him. Horns, beaks, scales, claws and twisting limbs form a turbulent enclosure, yet Anthony remains the still centre. The small panel turns spiritual steadfastness into a contest between composure and monstrous invention.

The Kimbell Art Museum dates the tempera painting to 1487 and presents it as Michelangelo’s first known painting.[1] Its composition derives from an engraving by the German artist Martin Schongauer, and early biographers report that the young Michelangelo painted a copy after that print. The attribution now attached to the panel, however, has a modern history: offered in 2008 as a work from Ghirlandaio’s workshop, it was cleaned and technically examined before the Kimbell acquired and exhibited it in 2009.[2][3]

The painting is therefore important twice over. It gives unusual evidence of Michelangelo learning through another artist’s image, and it shows how conservation, provenance and connoisseurship can change the identity assigned to an object centuries later.

At a Glance

  • ArtistAttributed by the Kimbell Art Museum to Michelangelo Buonarroti
  • TitleThe Torment of Saint Anthony
  • Date1487
  • MediumTempera on panel; the Kimbell’s acquisition history also discusses egg tempera and oil
  • Dimensions47 × 34.9 centimetres
  • Accession numberAP 2009.01
  • Current locationKimbell Art Museum, Fort Worth, Texas
  • SubjectSaint Anthony the Great attacked in the air by demons
  • Primary visual sourceMartin Schongauer’s engraving of the same subject
  • Early textual evidenceAccounts by Giorgio Vasari and Ascanio Condivi
  • Modern attribution historyOffered at Sotheby’s in 2008 as workshop of Domenico Ghirlandaio; cleaned and examined before the Kimbell’s 2009 exhibition and acquisition
  • Technical evidenceUnderdrawing, revisions, X-radiography, infrared and hyperspectral imaging, pigment study and microscopy
  • Collection distinctionThe Kimbell calls it the only Michelangelo painting in an American collection

Contents

  1. A Saint at the Centre of a Storm
  2. The Anatomy of Impossible Creatures
  3. Spiritual Victory Without Physical Escape
  4. Learning from Martin Schongauer
  5. What the Early Biographers Add
  6. Ghirlandaio’s Workshop and a Young Artist’s Formation
  7. From “Workshop of Ghirlandaio” to Michelangelo
  8. Cleaning, Overpaint and Present Appearance
  9. What Attribution Can Honestly Claim
  10. A Small Panel with an International History
  11. One of Very Few Easel Paintings
  12. Artist Up Close

A Saint at the Centre of a Storm

Anthony the Great was an early Christian hermit whose spiritual trials became a rich subject for medieval and Renaissance art. Demons attack him physically, but their violence tests an inward faith they cannot overturn. Michelangelo places the conflict in the air, removing ordinary ground and surrounding the saint with a rotating mass of creatures.[1]

Anthony’s body is not as visually extravagant as those of his attackers. His robes form a comparatively coherent shape; his head retains focus; his gesture does not match the demons’ frenzy. Stillness becomes resistance.

Around him, monsters collide. Their bodies borrow from multiple species without settling into any one anatomy. Fish-like surfaces meet wings, horns, claws and animal faces. The demons are frightening because invention refuses the order found in a natural body.

The crowded format suits the panel’s small scale. Instead of placing tiny figures in a broad landscape, Michelangelo makes monstrous forms press toward the saint and the picture’s boundaries. Compression gives their attack force.

The distant landscape beneath or beyond them introduces another scale. The saint’s supernatural ordeal occurs over a world rendered comparatively remote. Colour allows that distance to differ from the dense linear energy inherited from the print.

The Anatomy of Impossible Creatures

Each demon must be recognisable enough to threaten and impossible enough to belong outside ordinary creation. Michelangelo achieves this by recombining observed parts. Scale, horn, membrane, claw, fur and beak retain material credibility even when the whole creature cannot exist.

This method turns natural study into fantasy. A fish’s surface can be examined closely and then detached from aquatic anatomy. The more persuasively a fragment is painted, the more disturbing its new combination becomes.

The monsters also allow joints and torsions unavailable to a human figure. Limbs can multiply, wings can interrupt backs and mouths can open in unexpected places. Their crowded bodies test Michelangelo’s ability to maintain legibility inside formal excess.

Saint Anthony provides the measure. His human anatomy and clothing remain comparatively coherent. The demons violate order around him, so spiritual steadfastness appears as fidelity to form.

Colour distinguishes their substances. The engraved source supplies linear invention; painting can make one creature seem slick, another leathery and another fiery. Michelangelo’s act of copying thus becomes an investigation of touch addressed to sight.[1][2]

Spiritual Victory Without Physical Escape

The title names torment, not defeat. Anthony remains within the swarm, and nothing in the scene suggests that he has escaped its physical violence. Victory lies in the failure of demons to possess his inward attention.

This creates a visual problem: how can a largely motionless saint remain the centre of a composition filled with more dramatic forms? Michelangelo uses enclosure. Every monster turns the eye back toward the body it attacks.

The saint’s relative simplicity is therefore strength. If his pose matched their turbulence, the painting would lose its moral contrast. His compressed calm makes the demons’ frenzy look futile even while their assault continues.

The small format would have encouraged close, perhaps private looking. Terror is not spread across a church wall but concentrated within an object held near the viewer. Minute invention rewards inspection, turning demonic excess into a test of attention as well as faith.

The subject also suited artistic formation. A young painter could demonstrate virtuosity in monsters without compromising the saint’s dignity. Invention gathers around holiness while remaining subordinate to it.

Learning from Martin Schongauer

Schongauer’s engraving supplied the essential arrangement. His prints circulated widely and gave artists portable access to complex compositions. Copying such a work was not necessarily plagiarism in the modern sense; it could be a disciplined way to learn contour, grouping and invention.[1]

Michelangelo did not merely fill printed lines with colour. The Kimbell identifies changes in the compact vortex, positions, contours, landscape and naturalistic detail of the demons.[1][2] Translation became revision.

The shift from engraving to painting was itself transformative. Schongauer made light, surface and depth through lines cut into a metal plate and printed in ink. Michelangelo could use colour to distinguish flesh, scale, fur, fire and atmosphere. The printed source remained visible while acquiring a new material logic.

The demons offered special freedom. A human saint had to preserve recognisable anatomy and dignity; composite monsters could test unprecedented joints, textures and expressions. Michelangelo’s later fascination with complex bodies is already present, but directed toward creatures whose impossibility licences experiment.

The landscape also changes the relation between event and world. Rather than leaving the figures in an abstract field defined mainly by the engraving’s lines, paint can create atmospheric recession. The torment remains the focus while its setting opens outward.

What the Early Biographers Add

Vasari and Condivi both tell of the young Michelangelo making a coloured painting after Schongauer.[1][3] Their accounts helped scholars connect a surviving panel with an episode in his formation.

Later biography is not the same as a dated workshop document. Vasari and Condivi wrote after the event, and their narratives participated in the construction of Michelangelo’s fame. The story of a brilliant boy improving upon a northern master fits the heroic arc of artistic biography.

That does not make the testimony disposable. Its specificity—the subject after Schongauer, painted at an early age—corresponds closely with the object now at the Kimbell. The accounts become strongest when joined to material and comparative evidence rather than treated as proof in isolation.

A celebrated anecdotal detail says Michelangelo studied fish to improve the demons’ scales. The idea suits the panel’s naturalistic surfaces and the Renaissance practice of examining nature. It should remain part of attributed biography, not be expanded into an undocumented scene with precise circumstances.

The biographers help explain why copying mattered to Michelangelo’s reputation. His genius was framed not as rejecting precedent but as absorbing and surpassing it. The panel is valuable because viewers can test that claim against actual differences from the engraving.

Ghirlandaio’s Workshop and a Young Artist’s Formation

The painting belongs near Michelangelo’s time with Domenico Ghirlandaio, one of Florence’s leading painters. Workshop experience exposed him to panel preparation, pigments, fresco, drawing, print sources and the coordination of large commissions.[1][3]

This context corrects the myth that Michelangelo was naturally a sculptor who scarcely learned painting. His later insistence on sculptural identity did not erase practical contact with Florentine pictorial culture.

Technical examination found a small sketch beneath the visible surface that the Kimbell connects with Ghirlandaio’s Birth of the Baptist in Santa Maria Novella’s Tornabuoni Chapel.[2] Hyperspectral imaging made that hidden relation clearer in 2015. The finding anchors the object in the visual environment of Ghirlandaio’s work.

The concealed sketch does not by itself prove every detail of studio routine. It does not tell us who assigned the panel, exactly where Michelangelo worked or how other apprentices participated. It is a material trace whose significance emerges through comparison.

The young artist’s formation was not a straight transfer from master to pupil. Schongauer provided the principal composition; Ghirlandaio’s environment supplied pictorial practice; Michelangelo made choices within both. The panel is a meeting point rather than the property of one influence.

From “Workshop of Ghirlandaio” to Michelangelo

When the painting appeared at Sotheby’s in 2008, it was catalogued as “Workshop of Domenico Ghirlandaio.”[3] That label acknowledged a Florentine context without accepting Michelangelo’s authorship. The subsequent change was not merely a more famous name attached for commercial effect; it involved cleaning, technical study and renewed comparison.

At the Metropolitan Museum of Art, discoloured varnish and overpaint were removed.[2][3] Examination revealed pentimenti—changes made during execution—as well as underdrawing and material information. These findings supported the interpretation of an original creative process rather than a passive painted replica.

Technical methods included X-radiography, infrared reflectography, pigment analysis, microscopy and later hyperspectral imaging.[2] Each makes different evidence visible. X-rays can register density and structure; infrared may penetrate paint to reveal drawing; microscopy identifies minute surface relations.

No machine prints an artist’s name. Scientific results must be interpreted alongside style, provenance, source relationships and documentary accounts. Conservation strengthened the attribution because multiple strands converged.

The Kimbell’s object record now presents the work as Michelangelo and dates it to 1487.[1] A responsible account can use that attribution clearly while retaining the history through which it was recovered. Certainty today should not erase uncertainty yesterday.

Cleaning, Overpaint and Present Appearance

Old varnish can darken and shift colour. Overpaint can cover damage or alter forms. Their removal may disclose earlier surfaces, but treatment also requires decisions about which layers belong to the artist and which to later history.[2]

The cleaned panel cannot be described as though it returned automatically to the exact appearance of 1487. Pigments age, the support changes and some material is lost. What conservation offers is a better-grounded view of surviving early paint and revision.

Pentimenti are particularly valuable because they record choice. A copyist can make changes too, but revisions inconsistent with simple transfer support active rethinking. When joined to the modifications of Schongauer’s design, they reveal invention within imitation.

The modern history also changes reception. Before cleaning and attribution, the panel was a workshop object. After study and acquisition, it became “Michelangelo’s first painting” and the only example in an American collection.[1] The physical surface and cultural value were reconfigured together.

What Attribution Can Honestly Claim

Attribution joins probability, expertise and institutional judgement. The Kimbell’s label is not a casual opinion; it rests on technical findings, comparison with Schongauer, early biographies and the object’s relationship to Ghirlandaio’s environment.[1][2][3]

Yet even a strong attribution does not convert every claim into certainty. The exact circumstances of production, degree of workshop access and complete early ownership history remain less secure than the panel’s present museum identity.

Preserving the 2008 “Workshop of Ghirlandaio” label makes the modern argument clearer. It shows what scholars needed to explain and how cleaning changed what could be compared. A history of disagreement is evidence of scrutiny, not embarrassment.

The distinction also protects related paintings. The National Gallery and Uffizi objects carry their own catalogue histories.[5][6][7] Their acceptance cannot be transferred to the Kimbell panel by resemblance, just as uncertainty here does not make every early Michelangelo painting doubtful.

Honest attribution language allows confidence and history to coexist: the Kimbell presents the panel as Michelangelo; the path by which it reached that identity remains part of the work.

A Small Panel with an International History

The object brings together a German print, Florentine workshop culture, an American museum and modern scientific study. Its geography is unusually broad for a painting only 47 centimetres high.[1]

Schongauer’s engraving demonstrates how images crossed borders before digital reproduction. A sheet could travel, be copied and become the foundation for new invention in another artistic culture.

The Kimbell’s acquisition gives the panel a different public role. As the museum’s only painting attributed to Michelangelo in an American collection, it carries enormous representative weight.[1] Visitors may encounter the young artist here before seeing any original sculpture or fresco.

That status can encourage overstatement, but it also makes the object’s dependence on another artist especially valuable. Michelangelo enters the American collection not as isolated genius but as a young maker learning through transmission.

This transformation invites healthy caution. Fame can make every irregularity seem like genius. The attribution is strongest when the object remains specific: a small early panel, closely dependent on a print, technically revised and institutionally studied.

One of Very Few Easel Paintings

The Kimbell describes the panel as one of only four easel paintings generally regarded as from Michelangelo’s hand.[1] “Generally regarded” preserves the fact that the corpus contains different attribution histories.

The unfinished Manchester Madonna and Entombment are in the National Gallery.[5][6] The Doni Tondo in the Uffizi is a finished panel.[7] The Kimbell work differs from all three through its 1487 date, small scale, Schongauer source and rediscovered attribution.

These comparisons prevent the Sistine ceiling from swallowing Michelangelo’s history as a painter. Before the monumental frescoes, portable objects already required him to translate design into pigment and to make bodies carry sacred action.

The Torment also demonstrates that copying can be central to originality. Michelangelo’s achievement did not require inventing the subject or composition from nothing. It lay in seeing what the print made possible, then changing its energy through paint.

His broader cross-media practice was governed by disegno, the conceptual and manual activity that connected drawing, sculpture and painting.[4] In this panel, the relation is unusually explicit: a printed design becomes a painted object through observation and revision.

Artist Up Close

The very young Michelangelo appears here as an attentive competitor. He honours Schongauer by following a difficult composition closely, yet he refuses to remain invisible within it. Colour, landscape, compact movement and observed monster surfaces become his means of entry.

The panel also reveals how attribution is made rather than merely announced. Biography, source print, hidden sketch, revisions, pigments, cleaning and comparison form a cumulative case. The story of the artist and the story of the object meet across five centuries.

Frequently Asked Questions

Where is The Torment of Saint Anthony?
It is in the Kimbell Art Museum in Fort Worth, Texas.[1]
When did Michelangelo paint it?
The Kimbell dates it to 1487, when Michelangelo was about twelve or thirteen.[1]
Did Michelangelo invent the composition?
He based it closely on an engraving by Martin Schongauer but changed grouping, contours, setting, colour and details.[1][2]
Is the attribution certain?
The Kimbell presents it as Michelangelo after conservation, technical examination and scholarly reassessment. Its earlier attribution to Ghirlandaio’s workshop remains an important part of its modern history.[1][2][3]
Is it Michelangelo’s only painting?
No. It is one of a small group of easel paintings and is the only Michelangelo painting in an American collection according to the Kimbell.[1][5][6][7]
What did technical imaging reveal?
It disclosed underdrawing, changes and a small underlying sketch connected with Ghirlandaio’s Tornabuoni Chapel work.[2]

Discussion

How does a tiny early panel change the way we read Michelangelo's formation?

Reader Insights

Print to Panel

How does the painting change Schongauer's engraved demons once they become colour and surface?

Attribution Language

What is gained by keeping the attribution wording visibly source-led?

Technical Evidence

Does the evidence make the panel feel closer to drawing, workshop practice or independent invention?

Join the Conversation

Set the Kimbell panel between print, workshop and invention. Which kind of evidence feels most persuasive?

References

  1. Kimbell Art Museum, The Torment of Saint Anthony,” AP 2009.01:, View source.
  2. Kimbell Art Museum, Michelangelo, ‘The Torment of Saint Anthony’,” conservation essay:, View source.
  3. Kimbell Art Museum, Michelangelo’s First Painting: The Torment of Saint Anthony”:, View source.
  4. Metropolitan Museum of Art, Michelangelo: Divine Draftsman and Designer:, View source.
  5. National Gallery, London, “The Manchester Madonna”:, View source.
  6. National Gallery, London, “The Entombment or Christ Being Carried to His Tomb”:, View source.
  7. Uffizi Galleries, Holy Family, Known as the Doni Tondo”:, View source.