Perfection, in Carrara marble

(Don Dale photo, 2006)

You're not allowed to take pictures inside the Galleria dell'Accademia in Florence.

I found that out just moments after snapping off a single shot of Michelangelo's David in 2006. It was just a matter of seconds before a security guard told me emphatically that photography was not permitted.

I hadn't set out deliberately to break the rules. I'd missed the signs posted at the entrance -- not surprising, given how crowded the gallery was.

Florence had been on my list of European cities to visit for almost 30 years, but I didn't get there until 2006. That was probably for the best: By then, I had learned enough about art to appreciate the city's treasures, and Michelangelo's David was what I most wanted to see.

The sculpture of the teenage biblical figure, which some say depicts the moment between his decision to take on Goliath and the beginning of their epic battle, is perfection in Carrara marble. Seeing it in person was sublime.

Michelangelo was 25 years old in 1501 when he began carving his David.

The figure, completed in 1504, is 17 feet tall. It was originally placed outdoors at the Piazza della Signoria, adjacent to the Florentine seat of government. It soon came to symbolize the city's love of civil liberty. Growing concerns about the toll taken by exposure to the elements led to its being moved inside the Accademia in 1873. (A replica was placed at the original location in 1910.)

Today, David is one of Italy's most-loved tourist attractions. I am glad we took our guidebook's advice and bought tickets in advance. That cost us about $14 apiece, but it saved us at least two hours of waiting in line. With tickets in hand, we were admitted to the Accademia immediately.

Many replicas of the sculpture have been created over time. I bought a cheap plaster version at a souvenir stand near the Ponte Vecchio.

A reproduction of the statue was presented to Queen Victoria by the Grand Duke of Tuscany in 1857. She, in turn, gave it to what is now the Victoria & Albert Museum in London. The story goes that on her first encounter with the sculpture, Queen Victoria was so shocked by the nudity that a fig leaf was commissioned and kept in readiness for royal visits. On such occasions the fig leaf was hung on the sculpture using two strategically placed hooks.