Summary
For unknown reasons, Leonardo left his post with Cesare
Borgia in 1503. He may have sensed that Borgia's power would soon
come to an end, or he may have been disgusted with some of the
assassinations that Borgia had performed in recent months.
Back in Florence, Leonardo may have renewed relations
with Machiavelli: the Arno River ran from Florence to Pisa, and
the two cities were now at war; Machiavelli served as one of the
directors of a project to divert the river so as to prevent it
from running through Pisa, thus depriving the inhabitants of fresh
water, as well as supplied brought by riverboats. Leonardo made
many sketches of the river and of the planned new course; most
likely the directors also consulted him as an engineer. However,
the project itself failed.
By this time, Leonardo had gained an immense reputation,
and Florence wanted to take advantage of its famous son: the new, republican
government had built a large council hall at the Pallazzo della
Signoria, and now commissioned Leonardo to paint the Battle of
Anghiari, commemorating a historical Florentine battle,
on one of the large side walls.
As with Leonardo's other major mural, the Last
Supper, technical problems doomed this painting to failure.
It deteriorated very quickly, and the painter abandoned it in
1505, long before it was completed. The only records we have
of it are a few of Leonardo's sketches and copies done by other
artists, such as this one by Rubens. Rubens's style shows through
in the copy; and thus it should not be taken as a completely accurate
representation of Leonardo's original. Even though Leonardo often
designed machines of war, he often spoke of war's beastliness;
he meant the Battle of Anghiari to illustrate its
horrors.
Most critics agree that Leonardo began work on the Mona
Lisa while he was still in Florence, probably around 1505.
The famous debate around the painting's subject has raged for
years: recently, some have used computer technology to compare
the portrait with Leonardo's own self-portrait and suggest that
the Mona Lisa is a female version of Leonardo;
other, more reasonable arguments assert that the figure is the
wife of Francesco del Gioconda. But if the sitter was not Leonardo
himself, she never received the portrait, for when Leonardo finally
went to France, he took it with him. After his death, the French
Royal Family kept the painting, until the French Revolution, at
which point the Louvre was opened to the public and the painting
became the property of the French people.
Not only has the Mona Lisa been damaged
by darkening layers of dirt and varnish, but it has been practically
ruined by its own fame: who today can approach that famous smile
with a fresh eye? Yet one gains much from a closer look. First,
the head is round and full of flesh, in contrast to the flat, misshapen
head of the Portrait of Ginevra de Benci of 1474.
Leonardo's painterly career can be described as a quest for the
perfect female head. The Mona Lisa is also relatively
mute in its coloration–that is, its light coloring is due not only
to fading, but due somewhat to the artist's intentions. Leonardo's
preference for the shadows, veils, and sfumato possible in oil
painting reaches its culmination in this portrait, where color and
light are in perfect subservience to volume. The background here
is typical of Leonardo's work: rocky crags and mists.