Il Cenacolo Vinciano - Leonardo's Last Supper

Last Thursday went to Milano to go to the US Embassy (a wasted trip). A friend of mine from Genova met me there to hang out in Milano for the day. When we'd agreed to meet in Milano the week before, I'd thought about making reservations to go see Leonardo's Last Supper, but forgot about it because usually you have to make reservations one month in advance and last time I tried to reserve online I couldn't figure out how.

As soon as I met Carlo at the train station, he said, "Leonardo's Last Supper is here in Milano! Want to go see it?" I warned him that usually you need to reserve one month in advance. We decided to give it a try anyway. After the fruitless visit to the embassy, we took off in a hurry to arrive at the church before it closed for lunch. As soon as we entered the ticket office, there was a big sign reading, "sold out." Speaking Italian, Carlo asked anyway about the tickets, and the woman at the desk said that we should have reserved one month in advance, and that there were no cancellations for the day. She handed us a slip of paper with the phone number for reserving and as we were discussing in LIS about the futility of giving us a phone number when we couldn't use the phone, she told us that there were actually 2 last minute tickets available for the tour that had just gone inside. She told us the amount for the tickets with the "deaf discount" and as we pushed the money across the counter, she put the tickets under the dollar bills and pointed silently to the bottom of the tickets, "gratuito singolo - Eur 0,00" - free. We looked at each other, unsure if we were imagining things or misunderstood or what. She pushed our tickets and the money across the counter quietly, so the people milling around in the office wouldn't notice that we'd gotten free tickets to an exhibit that is nearly impossible to get into!

We rushed into this glass walled chamber with the rest of the group. The chamber was cold, with cold and dry air gushing from the ceiling. Carlo looked at me and said, maybe this is a security checkpoint where we need to check our bags or something. Just as I nodded in agreement, the doors opened and we filed through the doors like sheep. We looked up at a large fresco covering the span of a whole wall, about 10 feet above the ground. Totally not prepared to see the painting right away, my jaw dropped. It's exactly as I imagined it, of course much bigger than I thought! The paint was faded, from years and years of damage. Carlo slipped into his art history teacher mode and started explaining to me about the materials that Leonardo used for the fresco, the reason why it wasn't effective, and demonstrated the levels of damage done to the painting throughout history, allowing me to visualize just HOW the fresco actually survived all those years since Leonardo painted it. Leonardo wanted to try a new method of painting frescoes, using oil paint instead of the water-based paints that had been traditionally used in frescoes.

What is a fresco, you ask? It's a method of painting wet plaster so when the plaster dries, the paint has been absorbed by the plaster and effectively becomes a part of the wall instead of being merely a painted surface. So if a fresco starts to crumble, you will still see the painting underneath because it has been absorbed into the wall, several inches thick. As any cook or amateur scientist knows, oil and water do not mix, rather they separate with the oil being less dense than water. Therefore when Leonardo used the oil based paint on the plastered wall, the oil immediately separated from the wet surface, and as a result the colors "fell off" the wall and left a faded, splotched image.

On top of the ill-fated materials Leonardo used for the fresco, a flood contributed to continual fading of the fresco. When Napoleon's army took over Italy, the church was convered into a horse stables - the hot humid air from the horses' breathing contributed to further fading of the fresco. There was a small door underneath the fresco to allow soldiers into the building (why they couldn't build the door on another wall was a question begging to be asked), but it wasn't big enough so they knocked out part of the bottom of the fresco to enlarge the door (now we can't see Jesus's feet).

However, despite all the damage, the fresco is still quite remarkable. Leonardo was a master of detail, and the depth of tones and shadows in the painting made it seem more three-dimensional. It was amazing to see some of the simple details you normally wouldn't see from looking at a photograph of the painting in a book. For example, you could clearly see the creases in the tablecloth from it being folded for storage and unfolded for use. You could also see how the corners of the tablecloth were knotted to weigh it down.

Carlo explained to me that a famous psychologist (Jung??) did a psychological analysis of the figures within the painting. He pointed out that the models that Leonardo used for the 12 Apostles, Jesus Christ, and Mary were Italians. Since the subject matter of the painting is Christ's revealing that one of the Apostles will betray him and lead to his death, it is a snapshot of the reactions of the Apostles and Mary. Carlo demonstrated the different body movements of each of the figures within the painting, and I could see the typical Italian body movements. Christ holds out his hands in front of him, palms up in a "I don't know" gesture. One of the Apostles holds up his hands, pointing to his chest and leaning forward with his head to the side in a, "is it me?" gesture; another Apostle holds his finger up towards Christ in a, "ma, ma" (but, but) gesture. Yet another Apostle throws both of his arms out to the side, body thrown back in a "no! my god!" gesture. Another Apostle throws up his hands in "not me, not me"; St. Peter (I think) leans towards Mary to talk to her in a whisper, Mary looks as if to say, "I know, what can you do?" The last group of 3 Apostles to the right of the fresco all have their heads together, arms pointing towards Christ as if to say, "did you hear what he said? is it possible? who can it be?"

Overall I have to say that was a very cool experience, getting in for free and having a guide who could explain things I wouldn't have noticed before. :-)

1 comment:

Love much... said...

Hi! I'm Mel. It was very interesting to read your post about seeing Leonardo's "Last Supper". I'm sure it was more amazing than you were even able to convey. I found your blog at random and decided to leave you a message because we have similar interests. I LOVE to cook (I saw your other blog about recipes also) and I also love traveling and art. Anyway, it was nice coming across your blog. I hope your adventures in Europe continue to be amazing!

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