“His Last Supper has been stated in history as an imperfect production, although at the same time all history is agreed in celebrating it as one of the most beautiful paintings that ever proceeded from the hand of man. It was painted for the Refectory of the Dominican fathers at Milan, and may be pronounced a compendium, not only of all that Lionardo taught in his books, but also of what he embraced in his studies. He here gave expression to the exact point of time best adapted to animate his history, which is the moment when the Redeemer addresses his disciples, saying, ‘One of you will betray me.’ Then each of his innocent followers is seen to start as if struck with a thunderbolt; those at a distance seem to interrogate their companions, as if they think they must have mistaken what he had said; others, according to their natural disposition, appear variously affected; one of them swoons away, one stands lost in astonishment, a third rises in indignation, while the very simplicity and candor depicted upon the countenance of a fourth, seem to place him beyond the reach of suspicion. But Judas instantly draws in his countenance, and while he appears as it were attempting to give it an air of innocence, the eye rests upon him in a moment, as the undoubted traitor. Vinci himself used to observe, that for the space of a whole year he employed his time in meditating how he could best give expression to the features of so bad a heart; and that being accustomed to frequent a place where the worst characters were known to assemble, he there met with a physiognomy to his purpose; to which he also added the features of many others. In his figures of the two saints James, presenting fine forms, most appropriate to the characters, he availed himself of the same plan, and being unable with his utmost diligence to invest that of Christ with a superior air to the rest, he left the head in an unfinished state, as we learn from Vasari, though Armenini pronounced it exquisitely complete. The rest of the picture, the table-cloth with its folds, the whole of the utensils, the table, the architecture, the distribution of the lights, the perspective of the ceiling (which, in the tapestry of S. Pietro, at Rome, is changed almost into a hanging garden), all was conducted with the most exquisite care; all was worthy of the finest pencil in the world. Had Lionardo desired to follow the practice of his age in painting in fresco, the art at this time would have been in possession of this treasure. But being always fond of attempting new methods, he painted this master-piece upon a peculiar ground, formed of distilled oils, which was the reason that it gradually detached itself from the wall. About half a century subsequent to the execution of this wonderful work, when Armenini saw it, it was already half decayed: and Scanelli, who examined it in 1642, declared that it ‘was with difficulty he could discern the history as it had been.’ Nothing now remains except the heads of three apostles, which may be said to be rather sketched than painted.”—Lanzi.
COPIES OF THE LAST SUPPER OF DA VINCI.
The great loss of the original picture is in some measure compensated by several excellent copies, some of which are by Lionardo’s most eminent disciples; the best are, that by Marco Uggione, at the Carthusians of Pavia; another in the Refectory of the Franciscans at Lugano, by Bernardino Luini; and one in La Pace at Milan, by Gio. Paolo Lomazzo. Fuseli, lecturing on the copy by Marco Uggione, says, “the face of the Saviour is an abyss of thought, and broods over the immense revolution in the economy of mankind, which throngs inwardly on his absorbed eye—as the Spirit creative in the beginning over the water’s darksome wave—undisturbed and quiet. It could not be lost in the copy before us; how could its sublime expression escape those who saw the original? It has survived the hand of time in the study which Lionardo made in crayons, exhibited with most of the attendant heads in the British Gallery, and even in the feeble transcripts of Pietro Testa. I am not afraid of being under the necessity of retracting what I am going to advance, that neither during the splendid period immediately subsequent to Lionardo, nor in those which succeeded to our own time, has a face of the Redeemer been produced, which, I will not say equalled, but approached Lionardo’s conception, and in quiet and simple features of humanity, embodied divine, or what is the same, incomprehensible and infinite powers.” In 1825, Prof. Phillips examined the remains of this picture, and says, “Of the heads, there is not one untouched, and many are totally ruined. Fortunately, that of the Saviour is the most pure, being but faintly retouched; and it presents, even yet, a most perfect image of the Divine character. Whence arose the story of its not having been finished, is now difficult to conceive, and the history itself varies among the writers who have mentioned it. But perhaps a man so scrupulous as Lionardo da Vinci, in the definement of character and expression, and so ardent in his pursuit of them, might have expressed himself unsatisfied, where all others could only see perfection.”
DA VINCI’S DISCRIMINATION.
Lionardo da Vinci possessed the rare faculty of being able to ascertain the just medium between hasty and labored work; and though very minute in the finishing of his pictures, yet he painted in a free and unrestrained style. The same master who consumed four years on the portrait of Mona Lisa Giocondo, gave one of the earliest and best lessons to the age, in the great style, in his memorable painting of the Last Supper. This power of attending at the same moment to the minutiæ of detail, and to the grand and leading principles of the art or science in which a person may be employed, shows a species of universality of power that may be reckoned among the highest perfections of the human mind; and it places Da Vinci not merely in the rank of the first of painters, but of the greatest of men.
DA VINCI’S IDEA OF PERFECTION IN ART.
Da Vinci was never satisfied with his works, and Lanzi finds the same fault with him that Apelles did with Protogenes—his not knowing when to take his hand from his work. Phidias himself, says Tully, bore in his mind a more beautiful Minerva and a grander Jove than he was capable of exhibiting with his chisel. It is prudent counsel that teaches us to aspire to the best, but to rest satisfied with attaining what is good. “Vinci,” says Lanzi, “was never satisfied with his labors, if he did not execute them as perfectly as he had conceived them; and being unable to reach the high point proposed with a mortal hand, he sometimes only designed his work, or conducted it only to a certain degree of completion. Sometimes he devoted to it so long a period as almost to renew the example of the ancient who employed seven years over his picture (Protogenes’ Ialysus and his Dog). But as there was no limit to the discovery of fresh beauties in that work, so in the opinion of Lomazzo it happens with the perfections of Vinci’s paintings, including even those which Vasari and others allude to as left imperfect.” Lanzi says it is certain that he left some of his works only half finished. “Such is his Epiphany, in the Ducal Gallery at Florence, and his Holy Family, in the Archbishop’s palace at Milan.” Others he finished in the most exquisite manner. “He was not satisfied with only perfecting the heads, counterfeiting the shining of the eyes, the pores of the skin, the roots of the hair, and even the beating of the arteries; but he likewise portrayed each separate garment, and every accessory, with equal minuteness. Thus in his landscapes, also, there was not a single herb, or leaf of a tree, which he had not taken, like a portrait, from the face of nature; and even to his very leaves he gave a peculiar air, fold, and position best adapted to represent their rustling in the wind. While he bestowed his attention in this manner to minutiæ, he at the same time, as is observed by Mengs, led the way to a more enlarged and dignified style; entered into the most abstruse inquiries as to the source and nature of expression—the most philosophical and elevated branch of the art—and smoothed the way for the appearance of Raffaelle.” Vinci spent four years on his portrait of Mona Lisa Giocondo.
DA VINCI AND THE PRIOR.
The Last Supper of Lionardo da Vinci was painted in the Refectory of the Dominican convent of S. Maria della Grazia, at Milan. It was considered one of the proudest monuments of that city. While forming the plan of its composition, Da Vinci meditated profoundly on the subject; and having prepared himself by long study, and above all by a closer examination of nature, he began the execution by repeated sketches, both of the whole design, and of all its individual parts. He used to frequent the accustomed haunts of persons resembling, in their character and habits, those whom he was about to introduce in his picture; and as often as he met with any attitudes, groups, or features which suited his purpose, he sketched them in his tablets, which he always carried with him. Having nearly finished the other apostles in this way, he had left the head of Judas untouched for a long time, as he could find no physiognomy which satisfied him, or came up to the ideas he had formed of such a villainous and treacherous character.
The prior of the convent grew impatient at being so long incommoded in that essential branch of monastic discipline which was carried on in the refectory or dining hall, where the picture was being painted, and complained to the Grand Duke, who called on the artist to explain the delay. Da Vinci excused himself by saying that he worked at it two whole hours every day. The pious head of the house renewed his representations with great warmth, and alleged that Lionardo had only one head to finish; and that so far from working two hours a day, he had not been near the place for almost twelve months. Again summoned before the prince, the painter thus defended himself. “It is true I have not entered the convent for a long time; but it is not less true that I have been employed every day at least two hours upon the picture. The head of Judas remains to be executed, and in order to give it a physiognomy suitable to the excessive wickedness of the character, I have for more than a year past been daily frequenting the Borghetto, morning and evening, where the lowest refuse of the capital live; but I have not yet found the features I am in quest of. These once found, the picture shall be finished in a day. If, however,” he added, “I still am unsuccessful in my search, I shall rest satisfied with the face of the Prior himself, which would suit my purpose extremely well; only that I have for a long time been hesitating about taking such a liberty with him in his own convent.” It is hardly necessary to add that the Duke was perfectly satisfied with this apology. The artist soon after met with his Judas, and finished his great work. It is stated by several Italian writers that Da Vinci, out of revenge, did actually take this liberty with the prior.