Leo’s Mind, Body, and Soul

Disclaimer: This blog post will not be about Leonardo DiCaprio. This is about the Leonardo that cut open over 30 corpses in approximately the last 11 years of his life…for science’s sake, of course.

Leonardo da Vinci was born to a peasant mother and wealthy father out of wedlock in the Tuscan hilltown of Vinci in 1452. Because his parents were not married, and his mother was poor, he was not granted the right to a surname, just like his mother Caterina. Hence, his full name was Leonardo di ser Piero da Vinci. We think we have it tough nowadays, but this man’s full name was literally “Leonardo of sir Piero [his father] of the town of Vinci.” With no surname, Leonardo’s identity was completely tied to his father and his town. In fact, my Renaissance art professor always reminded us to stop calling him da Vinci because his actual name is Leonardo. da Vinci is only used as a surname to distinguish him from other Leonardos of his time.

LEONARDO

Leonardo da Vinci

Leo is now known for being a polymath, marking the beginning of the High Renaissance (according to Vasari), and providing conspiracy theorists with two of the greatest artworks to profit off of. [Especially you, Dan Brown. You are welcome.]

If I had to choose only one thing I appreciate about Leo’s contributions to the world, it would be the fact that he showed the codependent relationship between the arts and the sciences. Nowadays, people so easily throw out arts education for children, Leo is a good reminder that one subject cannot exist without the other. A lot has definitely changed since the late 1400’s! [WHERE ARE OUR PRIORITIES, GOVERNMENT?!]

Now that I’ve concluded my arts education propaganda, let me get back to my point.

Leonardo strongly believed in the relationship of interior and exterior. So if Leo was alive now and heard a parent tell their child, “it’s what’s on the inside that counts,” he’d be the first to object and tell that parent that faces, shapes of skulls, and other physical qualities relate to one’s interior qualities. In addition, as a keen observer of the physical world, Leo also established a strong relationship between nature and the human. For instance, below is one of Leonardo’s earliest portrait commissions, Ginevra de’ Benci (1475).

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Leonardo da Vinci, Ginevra de’ Benci, 1475

Notice how the juniper tree perfectly encircles Ginevra’s face. The natural landscape in the background not only shows off Leonardo’s observational skills, but it perfectly balances the anatomy of the human subject. Directly parallel to Ginevra’s neck folds is a hollow space in the juniper tree. In addition, the branches extending outward on the right perfectly complement her curls as they gently caress her cheekbone.

The juniper tree, aside from providing a parallel to Ginevra’s anatomical features, is also a play on her name. Yes, dear readers, the juniper tree in Italian is a play on her name.

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So here enters the natural landscape’s third purpose: a symbolic notion of Mrs. Genevra’s identity. The portrait is not just a representative of the fair lady’s physical features, but it’s also intended to shed some light on who she was.

On the back of the painting is another painting connected to the subject of the portrait. However, this isn’t rare; many Renaissance portraits had paintings on the back.

Leonardo da Vinci, Ginevra

Leonardo da Vinci, Ginevra de’ Benci (back), 1475

Here, the juniper branch appears in the center of a laurel and palm branch, which represent the Venetian Bernardo Bembo, who wrote poetry and jousted for her. [Side note: Where are all the poetry writing and jousting men? Is chivalry REALLY dead?!] Wrapping around the three branches is a banner that says “Beauty adorns virtue,” as a reflection of her beauty, morality, and intellect. Once again, the physical beauty is weaved with her personality and intellect, unifying elements of a person that people are constantly trying to pull apart.

‘Tis true. I am biased because this is my favorite painting by Leonardo. The beauty, the composition, and the overall smokiness of the painting make Ginevra look so delicate. However, just like the Mona Lisa, our dear Ginevra’s gaze is directed towards the viewer,  changing the way that people perceived the upper class women of society. I have digressed.

Leonardo’s contributions to art and science are evident in almost all his works. Ginevra de’ Benci not only depicts the inner and outer beauty of an upper class woman, but it also captures the interconnectedness of the world.

To be continued next post…

 

Cemetery Drive

I’m embarrassed how long it’s taken me to get back into writing. I’m ashamed that I prioritized so many things that writing just slipped away. Since I graduated, I’ve been searching for clarity, peace of mind, or just something to hold onto. I wrote a couple of articles post graduation, but I still failed to keep up on all my grand plans. Complete exhaustion isn’t an excuse, but that’s what happened, unfortunately. It wasn’t until I wrote a blog post about Star Wars for work that I realized I need to begin writing for my own pleasure again. I’m rusty; I’m pretty disappointed in myself, but I must move on, right?

I bought a camera once I graduated with the hope of photographing landscapes. I thought my camera would be the reason why I begin exploring my own city. I was inspired by a high school friend who is a great nature photographer. Boy, was I wrong. Instead of exploring the city, I ended up in cemeteries. But then again, cemeteries are cities of their own.

Ani Mnatsakanyan

Ani Mnatsakanyan, Evergreen Cemetery, 2015.

I have always taken death lightly because I accepted its inevitability a long time ago. Photographing tombstones and cemetery landscapes was a cathartic experience for me as an art historian and as someone who just picked up a camera. I found peace within the overgrown weeds, broken angel sculptures, and mausoleums. I marveled at the beautifully morbid gallery of sculptures that adorned tombstones of loved ones, young and old.

In cemeteries, the sculptors are nameless and their works are more susceptible to damage. In fact, it’s easy to overlook the effort that goes into creating tombstones. Generally people go to cemeteries to visit the graves of loved ones. Understandably, the last thing on their minds would be the tombstones and sculptures. In addition, cemeteries are seen as dark and depressing places, so tombstones and statues similarly fall into that category. As much as conservators work to maintain the tombstones, these works of art don’t always get the respect they may deserve from the general public. For instance, take a look at the following sculpture.

Ani Mnatsakanyan

Ani Mnatsakanyan, Evergreen Cemetery, 2015.

The angel’s eyes are cast downwards towards the deceased body, the white stone representing purity, and a [broken] right arm open as a gesture of comfort. This angel is as unique as a Renaissance painting of the Virgin Mary with Child, but to the person that must come face to face with the decaying body of a loved one, it eases the encounter.

To all the artists that sculpt the countless angels, crosses, busts, and other symbols without recognition, your work is appreciated. Whether or not you’re in art history books, you are on the art historical timeline. The living and the deceased survive around the artworks you create. While there’s no wall label crediting you, you are the reason why some people come to terms with death and find peace within the confines of the cemetery walls. The nightmare of physically losing somebody is eased as the work of art comforts the living. Cemeteries provide people like me a cathartic experience because of the artists that animate them with sculptures.