THE CŒNACULUM OF LIONARDO DA VINCI.
I have in my possession a manuscript critique on the celebrated picture of The Last Supper by Lionardo da Vinci, written many years ago by a deceased academician; in which the writer has called in question the point of time usually supposed to have been selected by the celebrated Italian painter. The criticisms are chiefly founded on the copy by Marco Oggioni, now in the possession of the Royal Academy of Arts.
Uniform tradition has assumed that the moment of action is that in which the Saviour announces the treachery of one of his disciples "Dico vobis quia unus vestrum me traditurus est." Matth. xxvi. 21., Joan. xiii. 21., Vulgate edit.; and most of the admirers of this great work have not failed to find in it decisive proofs of the intention of the painter to represent that exact point of time.
The author of the manuscript enters into a very detailed examination of the several groups of figures which compose the picture, and of the expression of the heads; and he confesses his inability to find in them anything decisively indicating the period supposed to be chosen. He remarks that nine at least of the persons, including the principal one, are evidently engaged in animated conversation; that instead of that concentrated attention which the announcement might be supposed to generate, there appears to be great variety of expressions and of action; and that neither surprise nor indignation are so generally prominent, as might have been expected. He inclines to think that the studied diversity of expression, and the varied attitudes and gestures of the assembled party, are to be regarded as proofs of the artist's efforts to produce a powerful and harmonious composition, rather than a natural and truthful representation of any particular moment of the transaction depicted by him.
The work in question is now so generally accessible through the medium of accurate engravings, that any one may easily exercise his own judgment on the matter, and decide for himself whether the criticism be well founded.
It must be borne in mind that the subject had long been a familiar decoration of conventual refectories before the time when Lionardo brought his profound knowledge of external human nature, and his unsurpassed powers of executive art, to bear on a subject which had before been treated in the dry, conventional, inanimate manner of the Middle Ages. The leading features of the traditional picture are retained: the long table, the linen cloth, the one-sided arrangement of the figures, the classic drapery, and the general form and design of the apartment, are all to be found in the earlier works; and must have been considered, by observers in general, far more essential to the correct delineation of the scene than any adherence to the exact description of it in any one of the Evangelists. But as the subject was usually introduced into refectories for the edification of the brethren assembled with their superior at their own meals, it does not seem likely that the treachery of Judas should have been intended to be the prominent action of the picture. It was a memorial of the institution of the Eucharist, although the Christ was not represented as dispensing either bread or wine. In such a case, if any particular point of time was ever contemplated by the artist, he might judiciously and appropriately select the moment when the Saviour was announcing, in mysterious words, the close of his mission—as in St. Matthew and St. Mark; or was teaching them a lesson of humility when the spirit of rivalry and strife had disclosed itself among them—as we find in St. Luke and St. John.
It is not perhaps generally known that the statutes of Queen's College, Oxford, prescribe the order of sitting at the common table in manner which evidently refers to the cœnaculum of the old church painters.
E. Smirke.