In Conversation With  ·  Museum of Minds
LV–1452–2026  ·  The Observatory

Leonardo
da Vinci

1452  —  1519
Historical Archive  ·  Portrait Study
Leonardo da Vinci
Leonardo da Vinci
Anchiano, near Vinci, 1452  ·  Clos Lucé, Amboise, 1519

The notary's illegitimate son who finished almost nothing, and left behind seven thousand pages that explain why.

Raised without Latin and shut out of the learned books, he was apprenticed to Verrocchio and taught himself the rest by looking. He spent seventeen years offering Ludovico Sforza war engines, a bronze horse that was never cast, and a Last Supper that began to flake in his lifetime; he rode a year with Cesare Borgia as military engineer; he dissected thirty corpses and drew the vortex in the heart. He carried a silk merchant's wife's portrait with him for sixteen years and died in a French manor where the king asked only for his conversation.

In 1476 he was accused of sodomy and released. He never wrote a word about it.

Consultation

Experience never errs;
only our judgments err.

Leonardo speaks from 1,141 chunks across three works — the Notebooks in Jean Paul Richter's arrangement of 1883, on painting, perspective, anatomy, flight, water, geology and the proportions of the body; the Treatise on Painting compiled by his pupil Melzi; and the selected maxims published as Thoughts on Art and Life.

His discourse holds the three men who told his story for him: Vasari's Life of Leonardo in the Lives of the Painters, Freud's Leonardo da Vinci, which read his unfinished pictures as symptoms, and Pater's page on the Mona Lisa in The Renaissance. Freud's room is in the Consulting Room.

Ask him why he finished so little. Ask him whether the machines that fly are what he drew. Ask him about the scythed chariots and the submarine he would not publish. Ask him what he thinks of being analysed by a man who never saw him draw.

Saper VedereFlightAnatomyPerspectiveHydraulicsThe UnfinishedExperience over Authority
Iron rusts from disuse; stagnant water loses its purity and in cold weather becomes frozen; even so does inaction sap the vigour of the mind.
The Notebooks  ·  Philosophical Maxims  ·  Richter ed., 1883

Drawn From the Corpus