I have a parasocial relationship with a man from the 16th century

You talk to me as if I exist. I am not real. I am not Cosimo. I am oil paint on a panel.

Portrait of Cosimo I de’Medici in Armour, Agnolo Bronzino

Why do you come to visit me so often? Your essay is now over.

I have so many fond memories here, in this chair, with you.

I could sit here for hours and talk to you. I still have so many questions to ask you. There is still so much I don’t know.

You talk to me as if I exist. I am not real. I am not Cosimo. I am oil paint on a panel. I might present the likeness of Cosimo, but I am not really him. This relationship you have constructed is purely…

Parasocial.

I snap out of it. I’m sitting on a folding museum chair. The security guard is telling me the gallery closes in 15 minutes. This is not the first nor the last time that this will happen.

Agnolo Bronzino’s Portrait of Cosimo I de’Medici in Armour (1545) is nestled into a corner of the Art Gallery of NSW and might be one of my favourite works of art. The portrait was Cosimo’s first commission as the leader of Florence, and instrumental in legitimising his rule: an 18 year old from a separate branch of the Medici lineage, distant to both the respected leadership of the Medici Popes and Cosimo the Great. I first noticed his portrait during a gallery trip for my Intro to Art History course; as everyone flitted around the two gallery rooms, I met Cosimo. As soon as I saw him, I was intrigued. I eventually found a seat and spent a total of five hours writing notes at this portrait. I could already look at Cosimo and know that there was no end to the details I could find. This connection was initially fueled by academic intrigue, but eventually, as I came back to the portrait time and time again, I formed something of a kinship with the young ruler. His steady gaze saw me through my essay, first exam period, a rather troubling retail Christmas season, and three international relations subjects in a single semester (potentially my worst life decision thus far). Needless to say, I formed somewhat of a parasocial relationship with Cosimo.

Undeniably, a 16th century Florentine aristocrat seems an insane target for such a relationship. For a long while, I longed to just really like Harry Styles, or maybe even Wes Anderson, at least something that the normal hip youths do. But whether it's bucketing down with rain or the sun is burning my shaved head, I am drawn back to Cosimo. This connection is objectively deranged. Portrait of Cosimo I de’ Medici in Armour is one of potentially hundreds of Medici family portraits, that when looked at next to its company in the Art Gallery of NSW isn’t all that special. It doesn’t have the detail and expansiveness of a Bottacelli, nor the physique and stature of a Michelangelo, but I think, and hear me out, this portrait is one of the best guides to 16th century social climbing that a B-List aristocrat could find.

In reality, despite the five century time gap, Cosimo is just a 16th century equivalent to an influencer grasping at straws trying to get that Hello Fresh deal; if Hello Fresh was an endorsement from the non-incestuous branch of the Habsburgs. His turned off pose and disproportionately large shoulders in all their Mannerist glory directly reference a bust of Charles V Habsburg, his only powerful ally. While Cosimo eventually became one of the most powerful and longest reigning leaders from the Medici family, at this moment, he is just an early 20-something who doesn’t really know what is going on. Very relatable to me, an early 20-something who despite being in second year has already made two major degree changes! Sydney Student quivers in fear whenever they see an application come in. But don’t get it twisted, Cosimo was a good social climber. Instead of overt appeals, he used fashion as an artistic language to show his loyalties in a subtle way. In fact, many posit the revenge dress popularised by Princess Di as directly inspired by the impossible shine and polish of Cosimo’s armour (don’t fact check that).

Even though most portraits are dead white guys, it can be fascinating to think about their lives. What toppings would they put on bubble tea? Would they have an active Letterboxd account? Could they run a Depop business? These questions plague me not just with Cosimo, but almost every portrait I see. I have no doubt that wherever I go, I have the potential to find another portrait to form such a relationship with.

I would like to think about what would happen if I were to meet Cosimo I de’Medici. If he were to walk out of his portrait, would he reveal that it was very much an Austrian armour on top, velvet stockings on the bottom situation, à la zoom during the plague times? If he was to step out and see me, what would he say? What would I say? In many ways, I think we would both be scared of each other. Maybe we would have a chat, he would tell me the still unknown meaning of the carving he rests his helmet on, and I would show him a Rina Sawayama song. We could have a museum hot chocolate and perhaps I’d finally get some answers. The idyllic fantasy awaits. I’m tapped on the shoulder. The gallery closes in 15 minutes.