Thorvaldsen's Conviction

As I was flâneuring in Copenhagen, I found myself in the magnificent neo-classical Church of Our Lady, Vor Frue Kirke, also known as the Copenhagen Cathedral. There were six apostles on each side and a statue of the resurrected Jesus facing its visitors. I learned that the statues were carved by Bertel Thorvaldsen, a notable Danish sculptor, and so I headed to the Thorvaldsen museum nearby.

Thorvaldsen was born into a working-class family and was accepted to the Royal Danish Academy of Art at the age of eleven. He then received a stipend to study in Rome, rose to fame, and was commissioned to carve statues by the likes of Napoleon, the Pope, and numerous royal families in Europe. He returned to Denmark at a late age, where he was titled a national hero, and donated most of his works to the museum in his name. Now, millions of people can enjoy his legacy—Greek gods, religious figures, and prominent personalities of his time—all portrayed with his unique style and through his own eyes. It turns out I even saw his statues earlier too, one of them being the Prince Józef Poniatowski Monument in front of the Presidential Palace in Warsaw, and another the tomb of Countess Dunin-Borkowska in the Dominican Cathedral in Lviv.

I admire Thorvaldsen’s conviction to sculpting. It takes a certain kind of self-sacrifice to dedicate one’s life to just one activity—to something that he deemed bigger than himself. In his case, it worked out in his favor, bringing him international recognition and a lasting legacy. However, a lot of people with similarly strong convictions are forever in the graves of history. We only remember the winners, and in professions with winner-takes-all effects, the result is not determined solely by talent.

So I conclude this thought with deep respect for all those who sacrificed their lives for an idea and never received recognition. It takes even more courage to keep going when only a few people, if any, appreciate your work. Some are posthumously recognized, and some are never.