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01x01 - The Disciple of Experience

Episode transcripts for the TV show, "Leonardo da Vinci". Aired: November 18, 2024.*
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This two-part, four-hour documentary delves into the world of a 15th-century art titan and unravels his journey while shedding light on his lasting impact on future generations.

01x01 - The Disciple of Experience

Post by bunniefuu »



Man as Leonardo: A

good painter must depict

two principal things--

namely, the person,

and the intentions

of their mind.



The first is easy,

the second difficult.



[Thunder]



Man: The modernity of

Leonardo is that he understands

that knowledge and

imagination are intimately related.



Man as Leonardo: Which

nerve causes the eye to move

so that the motion of

one eye moves the other



on closing the eyelids,

on opening the eyes,

on expressing wonder?

Man: There is a

delightful, unbridled joy

of curiosity in him.



His duty is to the question.



His duty is to the

thirst for knowledge.



Basically, he says,

"The thing that was

given to me by the universe

"was the chance to question it,

and that is my divine duty."



Man, speaking French:



Narrator: He began few

paintings and finished even fewer



but more than 500

years after his death,

those he left behind

are among the most

revered works of art of all time.

A draftsman of

incomparable talent,

he sketched everything--

people and landscapes,

flora and fauna, machines

both real and imagined,

equations, fables,

and allegories.

Painting on wood panels

made from walnut or poplar trees,

he devised new ways to

portray how men and women

convey their deepest emotions--

"movements of the

mind," he called it--

and elevated

painting from a craft

to an intellectual pursuit.

He read Greek and

Roman philosophers

but frequently

questioned their wisdom.

Real knowledge, he

believed, was found in nature

and best gained through

observation and experience.

He studied fossils

and water dynamics,

dissected cadavers

and mapped the circulatory

system and the human brain.

He attempted to solve the

ancient geometric problem

of squaring the circle,

and he staged experiments

on the nature of falling objects

more than a century

before Galileo and Newton.

To him, everything--

geology, physics,

anatomy, mathematics, art--

was inextricably linked.

Writing backwards

in a mirror script,

he began treatises on

a vast array of subjects,

combining image and text to

communicate profound insights

that were, in some cases,

centuries ahead of their time,

but he left most

of them incomplete

and published

none in his lifetime.

A singular genius,

he filled his notebooks

with calculations and questions,

theories and innovations,

revealing a mind

of infinite curiosity.

In an age of astonishing

artistic advances

and a newfound

reverence for humanity,

Leonardo da Vinci

made his way, he said,

as a "disscepolo

della sperientia,"

a disciple of experience.



[Man exhales]



Man as Leonardo: Here forms

here colors

here the character of

every part of the universe

is concentrated to a point

[Heartbeat]

and that point is so

marvelous a thing.

[Crying]

Man: If there's a golden thread

that runs through all

of Leonardo's work,

I think it's an attempt to

crack the code of organic form.

He's persuaded that there

are profound likenesses,

profound equivalences

to be found

in the movement of the stars,

and in the behavior

of an ant hill.

That, more than anything

else, is what obsessed Leonardo

and what gives his

work a kind of unity.



Man as Leonardo:

These indeed are miracles.

In so small a space, the

universe can be reproduced

and rearranged in

its whole expanse.

[Birds squawk]



Narrator: In the spring of 1452,

in a tiny village tucked

among the Tuscan hills,

a prosperous, 80-year-old

farmer and landowner

named Antonio da Vinci

made a note in his ledger.



"There was born

to me a grandson--

"the son of Ser Piero, my

son-- on the 15th day of April,

a Saturday, at the

third hour of the night."

Ser Piero was a successful

notary in his mid-20s

who lived and worked in Florence

but returned at times to

his ancestral village of Vinci.

Little is known about

the baby's mother

other than her name--Caterina.

Though his parents were

from different social classes

and did not marry,

the arrival of their son

was cause for celebration.

The day after his birth,

the boy was baptized

at the Church of Santa

Croce in the center of town.



They called him Leonardo.

Man, speaking Italian:

Narrator: Soon after

Leonardo's birth,

Ser Piero returned to Florence.

Within a year, his

father would be married

to a bourgeois Florentine woman,

Caterina to a kiln worker and

farmer who lived near Vinci.

The father in the case of

Leonardo's early childhood

is an absent figure,

and he probably spent more

time with his mother Caterina.

She was probably a serving girl,

a contadina, a peasant woman.



Narrator: At

times, the boy lived

with his paternal

grandparents Antonio and Lucia

and their son Francesco,

Leonardo's uncle.

Vinci, a village of

fewer than 100 families,

was made up of

a medieval castle,

a church, and a

modest cluster of homes

that gave way to

vineyards and olive groves.

Locals harvested medicinal

herbs from Vinci's hillsides

to supply the

pharmacies of Florence

and diverted a small

mountain stream

to power the town's olive press.



As a boy, Leonardo was

enamored of his natural surroundings,

exploring his grandfather's

orchards and wheat fields

and the hills, valleys,

and woodlands beyond.

He also grew close

to his uncle Francesco,

who loved the leisurely

pace of country life.

[Speaking French]

Narrator: Because he

was born out of wedlock,

Leonardo was limited in what

education he could receive

and, eventually, which

professions he could pursue.

Woman: The education he

got was the kind of education,

we think, that

merchants' sons got

where you get

practical mathematics

and you learn how to gauge

how much oil is in a barrel.

[Speaking French]

Narrator: In time,

Leonardo would regard

his lack of a formal education

as among his greatest strengths.

[Birds chirp]

[Thunder]



[Animal howls]

Man as Leonardo: Having

wandered some distance

among dark rocks,

I came to the entrance

of a vast cavern



and after some time there,

two contrary

emotions arose in me:

fear and desire--

fear of the sinister,

dark cavern,

desire to see whether it

contained something wonderous.



Nicholl: The Renaissance

is an enlightenment,

a rebirth of classical learning,

but it's also a time

of tremendous change

and, therefore, uncertainty.

Everything's up for grabs,

and I think the keynote

of the time is uncertainty.

With every question

comes a doubt,

and I think the story of

Leonardo's about looking

into the dark cave is a

very Renaissance viewpoint.



Narrator: As Europe emerged

from a devastating pandemic

that had ravaged the

continent in the mid-1300s,

the city-states that

crowded the Italian peninsula

established

maritime trade routes

to Constantinople

and North Africa,

giving rise to a wealthy class

of merchants and bankers

and accelerating an

exchange of knowledge

that helped ignite

the cultural expl*si*n

that would come to be

known as the Renaissance.

Woman: It started in the more

mature part of the Middle Ages,

but the big change occurs

with what is called humanism.

Humanism's really the

beginning of the Renaissance,

and it happens because

scholars like Petrarch and others

for the first time don't

look at the texts of the past

and try to Christianize them.

Before, it was always

to take the knowledge

and try to fit the

Christian doctrine.

Instead, now they see a need

for what they are within

the historical context.

It's a secular approach.

It was not there before.

That's what sparks

the Renaissance.

Narrator: The

Renaissance reached

its most profound expression

in the city-state of Florence

with a blossoming

of art and architecture

informed by mathematics and

science and classical ideals.

Man, speaking French:

del Toro: It's celebrating

not only empirical,

but physical sensation

and why does it happen,

where does it come from,

how do we belong in the world.

There is a re-centering

of the world into man.



Narrator: Florence

was first established

on the banks of the Arno

River by Julius Caesar in 59 B.C.

Since the Middle Ages, it

had been the seat of power

of the Republic of Florence,

a city-state that controlled

a large swath of Tuscany.

Its government, a council

made up of members

of the leading trade

guilds called the Signoria,

was a source of great pride

for the city's inhabitants,

but in reality, Florence

functioned as an oligarchy

in which the richest families

controlled the levers of power

from behind the scenes.

Cosimo de' Medici,

the politically astute head

of a powerful banking family,

had become Florence's

de facto ruler in 1434.

His clever diplomatic maneuvers

had led to a 1454 treaty

among the kingdoms,

republics, and dukedoms

that divided the

Italian peninsula,

ushering in a delicate peace

for the first time

in half a century.

Cosimo was also a

generous patron of the arts.

Man: Increasingly, artists

who previously would've sought

to work for the cathedral,

to work for the city,

to work for one of the guilds

want to work for the Medici

because working for the

Medici is not only a good fee,

it also guarantees recognition

in a new world of

art appreciation.

[Weaving shuttle rattles]

Narrator: Florence

had long been home

to a flourishing

garment industry

with its silk and wool weavers,

leather tanners, and furriers.

[Chipping]

As the arts grew, workshops

that produced paintings,

sculptures, jewelry,

and metalworks

expanded and prospered.

[Pounding]

Nicholl: The Italian word

for a studio is "bottega,"

and that means a shop or,

more precisely in this context,

a workshop--

a noisy, communal,

collective space.

Different people are

working on different things.

[Hammering and clanging]

There's hammers and tongs

and fires that heat up metal

and a lot of smells of solvents.

You might also hear, of

course, the clucking of chickens

because one of the major paints

that were used was egg tempera.

Narrator: Sometime in the 1460s,

Leonardo, now an adolescent,

made the long day's ride

from Vinci to Florence,

where his father secured

him an apprenticeship

in the workshop of

Andrea del Verrocchio.

A talented sculptor,

painter, and goldsmith,

Verrocchio had trained

many of Florence's

most celebrated artists.

Man: I think he recognized

very quickly that young Leonardo

was going to be

sort of the cream

of these young apprentices,

someone that he could

outsource some of the work to,

and someone he could train up

to be an extremely good sculptor,

painter, jewelry designer,

whatever he wanted to be.

Narrator: In the late 1460s,

Verrocchio received a commission

from the Medici family to

cast a bronze statue of David,

the Biblical shepherd boy who

had slayed the giant Goliath.

Leonardo--whose

contemporaries described him

as a beautiful,

curly-haired youth--

may have been his model.

Delieuvin, speaking French:



Bramly, speaking French:

Woman, speaking Italian:



Narrator: As an apprentice,

Leonardo prepared wood panels,

ground pigments for paint,

and made models

in clay and terracotta.

He also learned to draw,

a skill that artists viewed

as the foundation for all

other artistic endeavors.

Man: Drawing is the

key to almost everything.

If you can't

really draw it well,

you're never gonna

be able to paint it well.

Leonardo said, one

should find for oneself

a really good master,

copy their work

because it will train

your hand to good form.

Gopnik: He drew

with astounding acuity.

If there's one thing that

makes Leonardo's drawings

distinct from the

beautiful drawings

of someone like his

master Verrocchio,

Leonardo adds a note of movement

and internal

agitation to drawings.

Everything is dissolved

into the world of movement.

Man: Leonardo does a lot of

studies of draperies and cloths,

and what it shows is,

he understands how

light hits a curving object,

how shadows are formed



how depth is

conveyed in a drawing.

The drapery studies give

a sense of light, of depth,

but also of motion.



Man as Leonardo:

The painter will produce

pictures of small

merit if he makes

other artists'

work his standard,

but if he studies

from natural objects,

he will bear good fruit.

Narrator: In the summer of 1473,

Leonardo made a

small, high-angle drawing

of the Arno River Valley.



Bramly, speaking French:



Borgo, speaking Italian:









[Church bell clanging]



King: One of the remarkable

things about Florence

is that there was a

succession of geniuses

decade after decade

after decade in the 1400s.

When Leonardo came

to Florence in the 1460s,

he could look back at

the previous 50 years

and see great

public works of art,

things that you

could see for free.

You could walk through

the streets of Florence

and see this.

He wants to take his place

in the pantheon of great artists

like Alberti, Ghiberti,

and Brunelleschi.

Narrator: Filippo Brunelleschi

was the city's most

celebrated architect.

In 1418, he had entered

a public competition

to engineer a dome for

the city's central cathedral,

Santa Maria del Fiore,

which had been under

construction since 1296.



At 143 feet in diameter,

the long-planned dome

was intended to be wider

than that of Rome's

celebrated Pantheon,

still the world's largest

1,300 years after

its completion.



Few believed it

could ever be built,

but Brunelleschi was undeterred.

It took 18 years, but

the structure of the dome

was finally completed in 1436,

16 years before

Leonardo was born.



3 decades later,

Verrocchio won a contract

to construct and install a

monumental copper sphere

8 feet in diameter and

weighing more than 4,000 pounds

to complete the lantern

atop Brunelleschi's dome.

King: And Leonardo da Vinci

was 19 years old at that point,

and he'd been with Verrocchio

for at least a couple of

years learning his trade.

He would've seen

up close and personal

everything that

Brunelleschi had achieved.

Leonardo da Vinci says, "I

want to do the impossible.

I want to create miracles,"

because he's inspired

by these miraculous works of

art which have come before him.

[Bell tolls] Narrator:

In the early 1470s,

Verrocchio received a commission

from the Church of San Salvi

to paint a Baptism of Christ.

The master assigned

sections of the work

to his talented apprentice,

including the Messiah's feet,

parts of the landscape,

and one of the two angels.

While Verrocchio

had painted in tempera

and used white highlights

to produce contours,

Leonardo worked in oil,

applying imperceptibly

thin layers of color

to develop light and shadow

and create the illusion

of 3-dimensionality.

Isaacson: Verrocchio's

paintings and sculptures

both had a bit of

a sense of motion,

and Leonardo builds on that

and does it even better

than Verrocchio did,

and it's a first sign that

Leonardo's beginning

to surpass Verrocchio as a

painter of motion and emotion.



Man as Leonardo: The

art of perspective is such

that it makes what

is flat appear in relief

and what is in

relief appear flat.



Verdon: Part of

Leonardo's heritage

was the revolutionary invention

of single-point

linear perspective,

so a young man learning

art in Florence in the 1460s,

as Leonardo would have done,

he understood that he had to

be a complete master of that.

Narrator: Single-point

linear perspective,

a method of bringing

the illusion of depth

to a two-dimensional work,

had been devised

by Brunelleschi,

but it was the architect

Leon Battista Alberti

who had enshrined it

for Renaissance artists

in his treatise "Della Pittura."

Man: Perspective was very

important to the painters.

That's basically how

things recede into space

and the vanishing point that

parallel lines seem to go to.

Musicians had mathematical

theories of harmony,

and perspective was

rather like that for painters.

They had a theory,

so he began to

develop an interest

not just in the mathematics

of organizing space in pictures,

but also in how the eye

works and how slippery it is.

He's the first of the

theorists in painting

who realizes that the business

of seeing is very complicated.



Man as Leonardo: All objects

transmit their image to the eye

by a pyramid of lines

which start from the

edges of an object's surface

and, converging from a

distance, meet in a single point

and I will show that this

point is situated in the eye,

which is the universal

judge of all objects.



Narrator: In 1472,

at the age of 20,

Leonardo joined a painter's

guild whose members

were among the most

talented artists in Florence--

Filippino Lippi,

Domenico Ghirlandaio,

Pietro Perugino,

and Sandro Botticelli.

Though Leonardo remained a

part of Verrocchio's workshop,

he was now a dipintore,

a professional painter,

able to receive his

own commissions.



Florentine artists were

frequently hired by churches

and the city's

wealthiest families

to paint the Bible's

most popular subjects--

the Madonna and Child,

the Adoration of the Magi,

the Crucifixion.

Another frequently depicted

scene was the Annunciation,

the moment in which

the angel Gabriel

descends from heaven to

proclaim to the Virgin Mary

that she will give

birth to the Son of God.

It would be the focus

of one of Leonardo's

first independent works.



Though he borrowed freely

in technique from Verrocchio,

Leonardo's "Annunciation"

revealed his grasp

of perspective,

his deftness with

light and shadow,

and his devotion to nature.

Vecce, speaking Italian:



Gopnik: He's one of those

people who lives in his own head.

We meet those people in life,

and we recognize that they live

on a planet other than our own.



There are very, very

few times in history

when what you did

when you had that kind

of restless, inquiring, creative

mind was to paint pictures.

Renaissance Italy was

perhaps the only place and time

when that was so, and

we're blessed that it was.





Narrator: Leonardo received

another commission--

to paint a portrait of the

young poet Ginevra de' Benci,

the daughter of a wealthy,

well-connected banking family

who had occasional dealings

with Leonardo's father.

To look at the

"Ginevra de' Benci"

is probably one of the

great ways to understand

Leonardo's early

painting technique.

It is a very deliberated,

very protracted process.

The painting is done on a

very thin poplar wood panel,

and it has a

priming that is gesso.

Leonardo began

by doing the cartoon,

a full-scale drawing on paper.



He pricked the outlines

and rubbed with a pouncing bag

while the panel was underneath,

a technique we call spolvero.



The oil medium, it's basically

linseed oil and pigments.



He applied in the thinnest veils

what we call the glazes,

or the velature in Italian.



Layer by infinitesimal layer,

he's able to calibrate

the tonal transitions

that permit him to explore

the sfumato technique

where you blend the

gradations in such a way

that they seem to be

the manner of smoke.



Narrator: In a playful

reference to Ginevra's name,

Leonardo surrounded

her with juniper branches,

ginepro in Italian.

Borgo, speaking Italian:



Bambach: We can already see

how intensely Leonardo believes

that the motions of the

mind, the motions of the soul--

so the moti dell'animo,

e moti dell'anima--

show through this almost

inscrutable gaze that she holds,

and there is a

connectivity with the viewer

that gives it this

tremendous power.



[Bats screeching]

[Church bell ringing]



Narrator: In April of 1476,

Florentine authorities

received an anonymous note

accusing 17-year-old

Jacopo Saltarelli

of sodomy and prostitution.

The accuser listed 4

men as Saltarelli's lovers

or customers, including

24-year-old Leonardo.



Nicholl: Theoretically,

it's a crime.

Theoretically, it's

punishable by death,

so Leonardo might

well have been arrested.

He might well have spent

time in the holding cells.

Narrator: But among

the accused was a son

of the Tornabuoni family,

a powerful Florentine clan

with enough connections

to have the charges dropped.

Two months later, the

4 men were absolved.

No further prosecution

was pursued against them.

h*m*, though

condemned by the church,

was widely tolerated in

15th-century Florence,

where a number of

notable artists and poets

were publicly known to be g*y.



Bramly, speaking French:



Narrator: Leonardo wrote

nothing about his sexuality

or the allegation, but

just a few years later,

he would draw a device for

removing bars from windows

and another for

opening a prison cell.

They were some of his

first mechanical inventions.



Man as Leonardo:

Painting is born of nature,

or, rather, it is the

grandchild of nature

[Birds chirping]



for all visible things

are produced by nature,

and these, her creations,

have given birth to painting



so we may justly call it

the grandchild of nature

and related to God.



Man: Nature is God.

Nature is perfection.



Nature is proportion.

Nature is the entity

which obtains every effect

with the shortest and

direct way that is possible.

The best a scientist

or a painter can do

is imitate nature.



Kemp: He has an amazing sense

that nature is a

perfect invention,

that there is nothing

superfluous and nothing lacking.

Nature does nothing in vain.

[Horse snorts]

If the bone is that shape,

then it must do something.

Every small aspect of that

form must have a function.

[Bat screeches]

He does claim that the

human being can take things

from nature and put them

together in a different way

and that you can invent

things that nature didn't invent,

so you could act as a

second nature in the world.



Narrator: In the late 1470s,

Leonardo finally left

Verrocchio's studio

and opened one of his own

with his own apprentices

and assistants.

Between commissions, he

devised and drew machines

for an array of purposes.

Some were inspired

by the designs

of classical inventors or

Renaissance engineers,

and all were informed by his

close observations of nature--

the spirals in a snail's shell,

the eddies of water

in a surging stream,

and the swirls of wind

induced by a thunderstorm.

He drew an Archimedes screw,

an ancient device created to

force water to flow upwards,

and sketched

construction machines,

a mill for processing grain,

and a human flying contraption

featuring batlike wings.

For Leonardo,

building the machines often

seemed beside the point.

Galluzzi: What is beauty

for Leonardo is proportion

and harmony among its parts

and is a balance

between light and shade,

is organization of all

the inner parts in a way

that provide an immediate

perception of coherence.

This is why I like to call

these drawings portraits.

He takes the same

care in making them

as he puts into portraying

one of his famous ladies.

Narrator: In March of 1481,

an order of Augustinian friars

hired Leonardo to paint

a massive altarpiece

for the Monastery of

San Donato a Scopeto

located just outside

the city's walls.

His father, who did

legal work for the monks,

helped broker the contract.

He was to depict another

frequently painted Bible scene

known as the

Adoration of the Magi

in which 3 kings visit

the newborn Jesus

and recognize

Him as the Messiah.

Verdon: There's little

evidence that he was personally

a very religious person.

It's evident that he

knew the stories.

That was his bread

and butter as an artist.

Even when he is dealing

with nonreligious subjects--

rocks or water or trees--

I think he brings that

sense that all things

are part of this astounding

system that God has made.

He never simply bows to

conventional religious ideas

and makes himself the

illustrator of the catechism.

He's always looking

for something more.



Narrator: For the

dozens of figures

who would populate his painting,

Leonardo sat in the

piazzas of Florence

quietly observing and sketching.



Man as Leonardo: You

must wander around

and constantly as

you go, observe, note,

and consider the circumstances

and behavior of men

as they talk, quarrel,

laugh, or fight together



and make brief sketches

of them in a notebook,

for the forms and movements

of bodies are so infinite

that the memory is

incapable of retaining them



so keep these sketches

as your guides and masters.



Narrator: In one preparatory

drawing for his "Adoration,"

Leonardo used dozens

of perspective lines

to create an intricate,

3-dimensional setting

which he then populated

with animals and figures.



On an 8-foot-wide poplar

panel coated with gesso,

Leonardo sketched and

resketched an underdrawing by hand

using black chalk or charcoal.



On top of this, he began

to rough out the figures

in black, brown,

and blue pigments

which he applied by brush.



Next, he added a

thin coat of white paint.



Using layers of diluted

black and brown glazes,

Leonardo masterfully

developed contrasting areas

of light and shadow that

eventually would give the scene

dimension and depth,

a technique known

as chiaroscuro.



Soon, a riveting scene

featuring the Virgin and Child,

3 kings kneeling in homage,

a throng of astonished

eyewitnesses,

ancient ruins,

and horses and

soldiers in a distant battle

began to emerge.

It was unlike any

Adoration ever painted.

Delieuvin, speaking French:



Verdon: When the star

stops and the kings see Mary

and the Christ child,

they are full of great joy.



They feel joy, but

there are many people--

there are 3 kings,

and then there are all the

members of the entourage--

and people do not all respond

in exactly the same way.



Delieuvin, speaking French:



Verdon: So he's really

looking at it in a way

that no one had

ever done before,

no one had ever done before,

and that is simply astounding.

Borgo, speaking Italian:





Narrator: Among the bystanders

in the painting's

lower right corner,

Leonardo painted a male figure,

likely a self-portrait,

who gazes away from the

scene's dramatic center



but less than a

year after beginning

his "Adoration of the Magi,"

Leonardo abandoned the work.

"So grand was his vision,"

wrote Giovanni Paolo Lomazzo,

one of Leonardo's

early biographers,

that "he saw errors

even in things that

others called miracles."



Gopnik: You can feel

this sort of dissatisfaction.

He wants to not only capture

the snapshot of that scene,

but he wants to ask himself,

"How would everyone

have behaved?

"How would the camels and

the animals and the Magi--

how would everyone have

behaved at that moment?"

He ends up with a

lot of unfinished work

because the questions

he's setting himself

are not questions that

you can answer easily.



[Droplets splashing]

Man as Leonardo:

We do not lack ways

of passing our miserable days.

Still, we do not want

to spend them in vain,

drawing no praise,

and leaving no

memory of ourselves

in the minds of mortals.

Isaacson: We can see

in Leonardo a despair,

and a gloom happening.

He hasn't finished the

"Adoration of the Magi,"

and he keeps jotting

in his notebook

Man as Leonardo: Dimmi.

Dimmi. Dimmi se mai fu fatto cosa

Isaacson: "Tell me. Tell me.

Tell me if anything

ever gets done."

Bramly, speaking French:

Narrator: "Tell me,

Leonardo, why such anguish?"

wrote a friend on a

sheet of Leonardo's paper.

"Where will I settle?" Leonardo

asked himself on the same page.

Isaacson: It was time for

Leonardo to move on. He knew it.

He needed to seek new

horizons, and he gets an opportunity

when there is a delegation

that's sent from

Florence to Milan.

It's almost cultural diplomacy

because the people in Florence

are trying to appeal

to the Duke of Milan

by sending great architects

and artists and painters.

Narrator: The delegation

likely traveled on horseback,

first climbing the

Apennine Mountains,

then riding up the

Po River Valley

before reaching the

plains of Lombardy,

where Milan, a city

of 80,000 people

surrounded by 3

miles of medieval walls,

rose up before the Alps.

Unlike Florence, a

republic whose officials

were elected from

the leading guilds,

Milan was a city-state

ruled for 2 centuries

by merciless strongmen

who went by the title of Duke.

Ludovico Sforza, though

not officially Milan's duke,

had sidelined his nephew

in 1480 and kept control

through brute force

and cunning statecraft,

which he used to navigate

the ever-shifting alliances

of Italy's duchies,

kingdoms, republics,

and the Papal States.

King: Any prince, any

government had to be wary

of all the neighbors, all

the other people in Italy

because there was a

kind of tense balance,

a kind of equipoise between

and among these states.

Ludovico was very much a

spider at the center of this web

which would tremble

whenever someone else

began to move on the peninsula,

brilliant figure in many

ways, politically astute,

extremely deceitful

and unscrupulous,

and by the 1480s,

probably militarily

the most powerful person

on the Italian Peninsula.

Narrator: Known

as Il Moro, the Moor,

in part for his dark complexion,

Sforza had cultivated a court

that was among the most

sophisticated in all of Europe.



He kept his palace populated

with engineers and poets,

doctors, artists,

and mathematicians

whom he commissioned

to design and build churches

and fortifications,

create works of art,

and collaborate on plans

for the elaborate pageants

he was fond of staging.



Verdon: One of the

things that surprises us

about Leonardo's choice

to go and live in Milan is that

he went from a city

which had always prized

its political liberty to

a Soviet-type situation.

He needs the leisure to

be able to work his ideas out

in a creative way without

the immediate market pressure

of producing a work.

Man as Leonardo:

Most illustrious Lord,

I shall endeavor to explain

myself to Your Excellency,

showing Your

Lordship my secrets.

Narrator: Leonardo dictated

a letter addressed to the duke

proclaiming his

skill as an engineer

and enumerating his

ideas for military devices.

Man as Leonardo: I have

designs for extremely light

and strong bridges, suitable

to be most easily carried,

and with them, you

may pursue the enemy

and flee at any time.

I have methods for

destroying every stronghold

or other fortress, even

if it were built on rock.

[Horse neighs]

I will make safe and

unassailable covered chariots

which, entering among

the enemy with their a*tillery,

can withstand any attack,

even by large groups of warriors.

Should bombardment

operations fail,

I would contrive catapults,

mangonels, trebuchets,

and other admirably efficient

machines not in common use.

Bramly, speaking French:

Narrator: There is no evidence

Leonardo ever received

a reply to his letter

or even sent it.

With no prospect of a job

as Sforza's military engineer,

he needed to find

other paying work.

Eventually, he

formed a partnership

with brothers Ambrogio

and Evangelista de Predis,

who operated a

successful local studio.

Together, the 3 artists

secured a commission

to paint an altarpiece

for the chapel

of the Confraternity of the

Immaculate Conception.

The contract--

dated April 25, 1483--

specified that the altarpiece

should include an image

of the Virgin and Child, flanked

by two smaller side panels.

Leonardo was to

paint the central panel.

Verdon: Mary, of course,

was the most common subject

in medieval and Renaissance art.



Here, Mary is Leonardo's focus.



Mary's right hand,

which is on the back

of John the Baptist,

is very tense.

The fingers are

pressing into John's back,

but the thumb is

over his shoulder,

and what she's doing

is holding him back.

Mary, in the popular

theology that Leonardo

and everyone at the time knew,

already understood her

son must one day die,

and here, he shows her

preventing the prophet

of her own son's future death

from drawing near to Christ.

Christ, the child at her left,

accepts this future death.

Indeed, He's turned

to John the Baptist,

and He's blessing him.

She's lowering her left

hand toward His head,

but her hand can never

reach her child's head

because there's

a figure, an angel,

kneeling behind her son,

and the angel is pointing

toward John the Baptist.

Mary, as human mother,

knows her son must die

but cannot accept that,

and so God sends

His angel to prevent

Mary's instinctive,

natural, maternal instinct

from avoiding

the future Passion.

It is absolutely

the most complex Madonna

image of the entire Renaissance.



Its complexity lies

in a probing effort

to understand a deep

mystery, which is how,

in a woman prepared from all

eternity to bear the Son of God,

humanity still fully

expresses itself.



Narrator: After a disagreement

with the monks over money,

Leonardo and his partners

withheld the painting.

Their dispute would go

unresolved for decades.

Bambach: Leonardo will

do what Leonardo does,

pretty much disregarding

what the expectations

of the patrons are,

and the patrons learned through

their enormous frustrations--

and they would get quite angry--

that this was who Leonardo was.

Narrator: Leonardo soon

formed his own studio in Milan,

where he collaborated on

portraits and religious works

with assistants and other

accomplished masters

and offered instruction

to eager apprentices.

He started but

abandoned a painting

of the 4th-century theologian

and ascetic Saint Jerome.

He got further with a

portrait of a musician,

likely Atalante Migliorotti,

who had traveled

with him to Milan,

and Leonardo finally

began to get commissions

from Ludovico Sforza.

Among them was a

portrait of Cecilia Gallerani,

the well-educated

teenage daughter

of a Milanese civil servant

who had caught Il Moro's eye

and soon after was living in

a suite of rooms in his castle.



Kemp: What Leonardo has

done is to tell a mini-narrative

in this image.

She is holding the ermine,

this animal which is symbolic

of purity because the ermine

was said to prefer to

die rather than get dirty,

and she is turning away from us,

looking, and smiling slightly,

so we must imagine

the duke is over there.

We're looking at her.

She is looking at the duke.

She is given status by

this unseen presence,

which is just spectacularly

remarkable, given the fact

that portraits didn't

have narratives in them.

Isaacson: The way

her wrist is c*ck

protectively around the ermine,

the way the eyes of the

ermine and the eyes of the lady

are both glancing

in the same direction,

and the way the light

glints off of her eyes

and off the white ermine,

it's Leonardo at his best,

showing a scene in motion.

The greatest task of the painter

is to paint the figure and

the intentions of the mind.

He says, "Where there

is no life, make it alive."



Speaking Italian:



Narrator: Leonardo moved

into a spacious studio

and living quarters

at the Corte Vecchia,

a former palace adjacent

to Milan's colossal cathedral.

In the new workshop,

which he would refer to

as "la mia fabrica," my factory,

Leonardo would paint portraits,

draw futuristic machines,

and make meticulous

observations in dozens of notebooks.

[Dog barks]

Borgo, speaking Italian:

Nicholl: I think we get close

to a key quality of Leonardo

in the notebooks.

It's not just that Leonardo

knew an awful lot.

It's that he found

out an awful lot.

Man as Leonardo: What

light and shadow are?

What outlines are seen in trees?

What rules should be given

to boys learning to paint?

Nicholl: The way he found

out was by asking questions

Man as Leonardo: Why the

sun appears larger when setting

than at noon when

it is nearer to us?

Nicholl: and indeed

the interrogative mode

is quite often present

in the notebooks.

Man as Leonardo:

[Speaking Italian]

Nicholl: Why is that happening?

Man as Leonardo:

[Speaking Italian]

Nicholl: How does it happen?

Man as Leonardo:

[Speaking Italian]

Nicholl: What is the quality of

that thing or person or emotion?

Man as Leonardo:

[Speaking Italian]

Nicholl: He's posing questions

and looking for answers.

Man as Leonardo:

[Speaking Italian]

del Toro: The beauty

of what he does is that

he is carrying a

catalog of notions

that are organized almost

like a stream of consciousness.

Man as Leonardo:

[Speaking Italian]

del Toro: His knowledge

knows no boundaries.

[Splash]

[Lion roars]

The way we absorb

the world is all at once,

and that's the simultaneous,

gluttonous impact

that you get from his notebooks.

He has to be there, and he

has to render it right away.

Man as Leonardo: Define first

what is meant by

height and depth,

also how the

elements are situated

Narrator: In one notebook,

he designed a city

built on two levels

to improve sanitation;

sketched castle and

church architecture,

including a study for the

dome of Milan's cathedral;

and invented weapons of w*r.



Leonardo also drew

fantastical flying machines.



Vecce, speaking Italian:

Narrator: He wasn't the first to

imagine conquering the skies.

Daedalus, a mythic

craftsman of ancient Greece,

had fashioned wings for

himself and his son Icarus

in an effort to escape their

captors on the isle of Crete.



Aspiring aviators in China,

Iran, Scotland, and elsewhere

had designed machines and

made ill-fated attempts at flight.



Man as Leonardo: Remember

that your flying machine

must imitate the bat

because the web,

being connected

to the structure,

gives strength to the wings.

Narrator: Many of Leonardo's

designs were ornithopters,

machines that relied on the

human-powered flapping of wings

to achieve flight.

His wings would be constructed

of cane, rope, and fine linen,

the lightest materials

he could find.

Pilots would use pulleys and

cords to coordinate movement

and pedals and

cranks to supply power.

Man as Leonardo: A man

with large enough wings

duly connected might

overcome the resistance of the air

and succeed in conquering

it and rising above it.



Man: In order to achieve lift,

he needed to create, basically,

a deflection of the air.

We are flying because we

are able to redirect the airflow

from horizontal to downward.

And Newton's law says that

if you deflect it downward,

the reaction to it

is, it pushes you up,

and he basically understood that

without being

able to explain it.



Narrator: Though ingenious

and of singular artistic beauty,

his flying machines

could not have flown.

The materials of his

day were too heavy

and human musculature too weak.



Man as Leonardo: The

dragonfly flies with 4 wings,

and when the front

wings are raised,

the back wings are lowered,

but each pair needs

to be sufficient of itself

to bear the full weight.



Narrator: In the years ahead,

Leonardo would fill his

notebooks with drawings

of a multitude of other

mechanical devices--

hydraulic screws, hoists,

a perpetual motion

machine, clocks--

and their component parts--

springs, gears, ball bearings.

Many of his designs were

utilitarian, some theoretical,

but all were devised

with great consideration

for the properties of physics,

such as friction,

inertia, and gravity.

[Pottery shatters]

del Toro: There's a great

little phrase Kubrick said,

and I'll paraphrase him.

The lesson in the Icarus myth

is not that we

shouldn't fly that high.

We just need to build

better wings, you know,

and I think Leonardo

wants to build better wings--

from irrigation to

circulatory systems

to machines of w*r, everything.



Galluzzi: One of the

greatest invention by Leonardo

is not the submarine

or the airplane.

They would not have worked,

and I'm sure he was

absolutely aware of that.

It's the way in which he used

drawings to explain machines.

These drawings are

spectacular as drawings.



He's able, for the first time,

to portray a complex machine

with one drawing in a way that

you can understand perfectly

even its interior parts.

He was making exploded views

aside the general

view of the machine,

and that was unsurpassed

for many, many generations.



Woman: One of my favorite

things is a little musical pun he does

where he takes Do

Re Mi Fa Sol La Ti Do

and arranges those

into Italian words

that make a sentence,

but they're also, of course,

notes, so you can sing it,

and what is being sung is,

"Love alone makes me remember.

Love alone makes me alert,"

and there's a little,

stray comment

on the back of one of

the sheets of paper--

"If there is no

love, what then?"



Man as Leonardo:

Giacomo came to live with me

on the Feast of Saint

Mary Magdalene, 1490.



Narrator: In the summer

of 1490, Giacomo Caprotti,

a 10-year-old from

a nearby village,

joined Leonardo's household.



Caprotti's father had

agreed to pay room and board

while his son learned

painting from the master.

In time, the boy would

show modest talent,

but at first, he ran errands,

modeled for Leonardo,

and caused trouble.

Nicholl: He's immediately

noted as a mischief maker,

a disruptive figure,

and indeed, the name

that is given to him, Salai,

it means little

demon, little devil,

and the first thing

we learn about him

is a long notation

in Leonardo's--

one of Leonardo's

notebooks, one of the longest

continuous pieces of

writing about another person

that Leonardo ever

put down on paper,

and it's a list of

Salai's misdeeds.

Man as Leonardo: The second day,

I had two shirts cut for him,

a pair of hose, and a jerkin,

and when I put aside some

money to pay for these things,

he stole the money

out of the purse,

and I could never

get him to confess,

though I was quite

certain of the fact.

Again, on April 2,

Gian Antonio left a silver

point on a drawing he had made,

and Giacomo stole it.

Narrator: "Thief" Man

as Leonardo: Ladro

Narrator: "liar" Man

as Leonardo: bugiardo

Narrator: "obstinate"

Man as Leonardo: ostinato

Narrator: "greedy"

Man as Leonardo: ghiotto.

Narrator: Leonardo

wrote in the margin.

Nicholl: Throughout it runs

this wonderful sort of twinkle

of fondness from the maestro

as he lists these misdeeds

of the urchin Salai,

and this fondness

for this mischievous

but rather attractive and

charismatic young lad

carries on, really,

throughout the next 30

years of companionship.

Salai is a apprentice,

then assistant, then companion--

one might almost

certainly say lover--

and finally sort

of indispensable

sort of partner

of Leonardo's life.



He has a very particular look

which becomes the

sort of trademark, almost,

of Leonardo's presentation

of the beautiful male face--

or, indeed, androgynous face--

because his angels often

feature the look of Salai.

Man as Leonardo: Salai, I

want to rest, so no more wars.

No more w*r. I surrender.

Zimmerman: There's a

contemporary reference to Salai.

Someone says, "Our Leonardo

stopped by the other day

with the insufferable Salai,"

and yet something's

being satisfied.

He was with him

for the rest of his life,

and I think you sort

of can't argue with that.



Man as Leonardo: Pleasure

and Pain appear as twins

since there is never

one without the other.

They stand back to back as

though they were attached.

If you take Pleasure,

know that behind him

is one who will deal you

Tribulation and Repentance,

and they exist as

opposites in the same body

because they have

the same basis,

and the various

forms of evil pleasure

are the origin of pain.

Bramly, speaking French:

Speaking Italian:



[Hooves clopping]

Narrator: In January of 1490,

Ludovico Sforza hosted a

lavish celebration to honor

the marriage of his nephew

to the Princess of Naples.

The evening featured

a sumptuous feast

and an elaborate

pageant, "Il Paradiso,"

with costumed actors,

music, and dancing.

Near midnight, a curtain

was drawn to reveal

a giant half-egg,

the top edge arrayed

with the twelve

signs of the zodiac

and the inside gilded with gold.

The 7 known celestial bodies

were represented by actors.

Candles served as stars.



The performance culminated with

the gods descending from heaven

to proclaim the

bride's many virtues.

Leonardo had decorated the hall

and designed all the

costumes and sets.



He had finally found a

niche on Sforza's court.

In time, Il Moro

would appoint him

an official engineer

and painter.

Kemp: He became

a guru of the court.

He had a stipend.

He was a stipendiato.

It gave him space. It

also gave him an area

where there were musicians,

and he himself was an

accomplished musician.

There were poets.

There were historians.

There were people

doing natural philosophy.

There were engineers.

He was a very gracious

man by all accounts,

rather charming.

The courts suited

him quite well.

King: He was someone

who loved the humorous

and loved the grotesque,

loved practical jokes.



We might not think

of Leonardo da Vinci

as having a sense

of humor, but he did.

Man as Leonardo: It was

asked of a painter why,

since he painted

such beautiful figures,

his children were so ugly,

to which the painter replied

that he made his pictures by

day and his children by night.



Bambach: Leonardo also

cultivates a huge network

of intellectual

friends and craftsmen,

and his ambitions to write

treatises really emerges.

[Bell tolling] In Milan,

there was an interest

in more Aristotelian

ways of thinking,

which are much more

based on empiricism,

empirical observation.

Leonardo was able to

befriend all these people

who translated treatises

that probably

enhanced his education,

and he kind of got his

sea legs as an author.

[Thunder] Verdon: Plato said,

"You have to start

with the great ideas."

Aristotle said, "No. You have

to start with the hard facts,

"like rocks and dirt and plants.

"In analyzing them, you

will come to the larger ideas

that allow you to

construct a system,"

and I think that corresponded

much more closely

to Leonardo's own curiosity

about the natural world,

and, in a sense, shaped it.

Narrator: Determined to

become a writer and intellectual,

Leonardo acquired

more and more books.

The German craftsman

Johannes Guttenberg

had invented the

printing press in 1452,

the year Leonardo was born.



Within two decades,

Venice had established itself

as a center for publishing,

and Milan and Florence

each had their own print shops.



King: Leonardo was an

inveterate and omnivorous reader,

and if he couldn't buy a

book, he would borrow it.

He's not just looking

at the natural world--

he's certainly doing that--but

he's also looking at the best

that has been thought and

said by his predecessors.

Man as Leonardo: Try

to obtain the Vitolone,

which is in the

library of Pavia.

Ask Benedetto Portinari

how people go on

the ice in Flanders.

Ask Maestro Antonio how

mortars are placed on bastions

by day or by night.

Get the Friar at Brera to

show you "De ponderibus."

Narrator: Leonardo

also frequently quoted

"The Divine Comedy,"

the epic poem

by Dante Alighieri, Florence's

most famous writer



and he tried to master Latin,

long the language

of European scholars,

filling page after

page of his notebooks

with vocabulary words

written in his mirror script.



Vecce, speaking Italian:



Man as Leonardo: Not

being a literary man,

certain presumptuous

people will think

that they may

reasonably criticize me,

alleging that I am a

man without letters.

Foolish men.

They do not know

that my subjects

are to be dealt

with by experience

rather than by

words and experience

has been the master

of those who wrote well.

Therefore, I shall cite

my master in all cases.



Galluzzi: He says that I

am "uomo sanza lettere."

"I am a man who has

no traditional knowledge,"

and is a kind of admission,

which is, in fact, an

expression of proudness.

"I've learned not from

libraries, not from books,

"but from the

observation of nature.

"Nature is the real teacher.

I am a disciple of nature."

Many expressions

in his notebooks

express this frustration

for not being considered

as an intellectual, we would

say today, as a scholar.

At the same time,

this was tempered

by the self-confidence

of knowing much more

than those people, being

able to perform things

that the others not

even could conceive.



Narrator: Meanwhile,

Leonardo had embarked

on another ambitious

project-- a series of books

that, together, would

present his core beliefs

on the art and

science of painting.



Man as Leonardo: Light is

the chaser away of darkness.



Shade is the

obstruction of light,

and the eye can best

distinguish the forms of objects

when it is placed between the

shaded and illuminated parts.

Narrator: Using candles

to illuminate spheres

and cylinders, he

observed how light,

when cast on curved surfaces,

created shadows of

varying intensity and length.



Delieuvin, speaking French:

Man as Leonardo: The edges

of shadows darken by degrees,

and anyone ignorant of this fact

will paint things

with no relief,

and relief is the heart

and soul of painting.



[Man exhales]

Narrator: Like his

old master Verrocchio,

Leonardo believed that a deep

knowledge of human anatomy

was essential to

depicting the human form,

but he and his contemporaries

were still dependent

on the medical teachings

of ancient physicians

and philosophers whose

centuries-old theories

had mostly gone unchallenged.

Existing anatomical

illustrations,

which had been

informed by those theories,

were inaccurate and inadequate.

Man as Leonardo: A painter

who learns about the nature

of tendons, muscles, and

sinews will know just how many

and which tendons cause

the movement of a limb

or which muscle bulges and

causes that tendon to contract.

Narrator: Leonardo drew

muscles, bones, and organs

and experimented with

different techniques--

cross sections and transparency.



Speaking Italian:

Narrator: Now

he obtained a skull

and set out to map it

in a series of drawings.

Kemp: He sectioned it

horizontally and vertically.

You think, "Well,

that's obvious,"

but it wasn't obvious.

Nobody did that.

There were no anatomical

drawings in earlier books

with sections of the skull,

and he's looking at the skull

empirically for its

features, what it looks like,

and wonderful, delicate drawings

which are just awesome

in terms of technique,

and you think, "Well, he's

doing the anatomy of the skull,"

but what he's really looking for

is where the center

of the brain is.

He talks about the

pole of the cranium

and that the point where all

these proportional systems cross

is where the senses all go

into this central

clearinghouse, as it were.

Those skull studies, which

look like descriptive anatomy,

are actually devoted

to understanding

the workings of the brain.



Man as Leonardo:

What sneezing is,

what yawning is,

sweating,

fatigue,

hunger,

sleepiness,

thirst,

lust.

Narrator: Aristotle had believed

that sensory impressions

converged in a brain cavity,

where they were processed,

interpreted, and stored.

He called it the

Sensus Communis.

Man as Leonardo: The

soul seems to be located

in the site of reason,

and the site of

reason seems to be

where all the senses converge.

This is called the senso comune,

and the soul is

not all throughout

and in every part of the body,

as many previously believed,

because if it were, it would

not be necessary to have

the instruments of the senses

converge in a single location.

Narrator: To Leonardo, the

transmission of information

from the eye, which he

called the window of the soul,

to the brain and nervous system

and the reaction that followed--

joy, fear, concern, surprise--

was the essence of

the human experience.

Artists, he believed, should

understand this phenomenon

and the science behind it

to effectively portray emotion,

reveal character,

and tell riveting stories.

Speaking Italian:

Narrator: Leonardo saw

proportion in the natural world

as evidence of nature's

matchless gift for design.

Using male models, he

began a meticulous study.

Man as Leonardo: On the changing

measurements of the human body

through the movements of

the limbs from different views,

the measurements of the

human body vary in each limb

according to how much it is

bent and from different views

so that they grow or diminish

to a varying extent on one side

while they grow or diminish

on the opposite side.



Narrator: Seeking inspiration,

Leonardo studied a treatise

by Vitruvius, a Roman

architect of the 1st century B.C.,

who wrote about the symmetry

between the human body

and a skillfully designed temple

and carefully measured the

proportions of what he described

as a "well-shaped man."

Rossellini: And this

was classical belief

that the symmetry and

proportion of the human body

reflected as in a microcosm

the greater harmony of the world.

Narrator: "Just as the human

body yields a circular outline,

so too a square figure

may be found from it,"

wrote Vitruvius.

Borgo, speaking Italian:

Man as Leonardo: The space

between the parting of the lips

and the base of the

nose is 1/7 of the face.

Leonardo's very,

very scientific about it.

Man as Leonardo: The

space from the mouth

to the bottom of the

chin is 1/4 of the face

Isaacson: He does all

sorts of measurements--

Man as Leonardo: in equal

Isaacson: from the

forehead to the nose

Man as Leonardo: of the mouth

Isaacson: to the

chin to the navel

to the genitals of

all of his assistants

so he gets all the

proportions exactly right,

the way Vitruvius had suggested.

Man as Leonardo: The

distance from the top of the nose,

where the eyebrows begin,

to the bottom of the chin

is 2/3 of the face.

Borgo, speaking Italian:

del Toro: Leonardo is interested

in the human proportion,

and he thinks that's divine

enough to be represented.

He says, "There is enough poetry

"and enough cosmos

and enough infinite

"in another human being

or a rock and a waterfall

or a half-smile."



Man as Leonardo: Caterina

came on the 16th day of July 1493.

Bramly, speaking French:

Narrator: Since leaving

Vinci decades earlier,

Leonardo had rarely made

any note of his mother,

who, by 1493, was in

her mid-60s and widowed.

Bramly, speaking French:



Narrator: One year later,

on a page of his notebook,

he recorded the

costs of burying her.

Man as Leonardo:

For the bier, 8 soldi;

a pall over the bier, 12 soldi;

for bearing and placing

the cross, 4 soldi;

for 4 priests and

4 clerics, 20 soldi;

for the gravediggers, 16 soldi;

sugar and candles, 12 soldi.



Every evil leaves

pain in our memory

except the supreme evil, death,

which destroys this

memory along with our life.



[Birds chirping]

Narrator: In November of 1493,

Ludovico Sforza

hosted a celebration

for his niece Bianca, who was

marrying the king of Germany.

On display for the occasion

was a colossal, 20-foot-high

clay horse sculpted by Leonardo,

the model for part of

a bronze monument

honoring Il Moro's father.

"I am certain that neither

Greece nor Rome,"

one astonished witness said,

"ever saw anything

more massive."

[Horse neighs]

The artist had studied

live horses obsessively,

measuring their proportions

and drawing their features

in his notebooks.

I think he was better at horses

than anyone has ever been.

[Horse snorts]

He has the horse rearing

[Horse neighs]

and then he has the

neck and the head turned

in 3 different ways, and

there's so much motion.



You see all the

different possibilities.

You see how accurate

he is with all of them, too.

Narrator: Rather than

cast the massive statue

in the tried and tested

way, divided into pieces,

Leonardo planned to

create one giant mold.



Man as Leonardo: When

you shall have made

the mold upon the horse,

you must make the

thickness of the metal in clay.

Dry it in layers.

Make the outside mold of plaster

to save time in drying

and the expense in wood.

And with this plaster,

enclose the irons

both outside and inside to

a thickness of two fingers.

Make terra cotta.



Narrator: He planned to

build a lattice metal frame

to secure the mold before

lowering it upside-down

into a pit using a pulley

machine of his own design.

Finally, he would pour

molten bronze through holes

spread across the mold,

using furnaces arrayed

around the pit to

cool the metal evenly.

Ludovico Sforza gave him the

75 tons of bronze he needed,

but in the fall of 1494,

before Leonardo

could put it to use,

Sforza confiscated it all.

[Swords clanging]

The French King Charles VIII

had ordered his troops south

to conquer the

Kingdom of Naples,

setting the entire Italian

peninsula on edge.

To preserve his

control over Milan,

Il Moro quickly aligned

himself with Charles.

At the same time, he

sent the valuable metal

to his father-in-law,

the Duke of Ferrara,

who feared a French invasion

and planned to make cannons

with Leonardo's bronze.

King: He couldn't have been

human if he wasn't disappointed

at losing this commission

which, had he been

able to bring it to fruition,

it really would've

made his reputation.

It would've been

his work of fame.

Narrator: Ludovico

Sforza would soon assign

a new project to Leonardo--

a painting Leonardo

believed few would ever see.

In the early 1490s, Il Moro

had chosen a monastery

to serve as a

mausoleum for his family.

Home to an order

of Dominican friars,

the site featured a

cloistered garden,

quarters for the monks,

a sacristy, and the

recently completed

Church of Santa

Maria delle Grazie.

To adorn the south

wall of the refectory,

Sforza commissioned a fresco

of the crucifixion of Jesus Christ.

For the north end, Leonardo

was to paint a scene

suitable for the monks who

dined there in silent contemplation--

the final meal Christ

shared with his apostles

before he was crucified--

the Last Supper.

It would be his most

ambitious painting to date,

featuring multiple figures

engaged in a complex,

dynamic narrative on a

physical scale much larger

than any of his previous works,

including the abandoned

"Adoration of the Magi."

It's a difficult

subject for painters

because it's a long,

thin, wide picture,

which is slightly

difficult to organize,

and you want some drama,

or Leonardo wanted drama in it.

King: For the most part,

Last Supper paintings

would be very sedate scenes.

If you look at these paintings,

Christ and the apostles

ranged across the

table mostly in silence,

eating, maybe one

or two talking together,

and they're very placid scenes.

Borgo, speaking Italian:

Narrator: He bought a Bible,

a widely read

Italian-language edition

that had been translated

from Latin two decades earlier.

The Gospels--

the books attributed to

Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John--

offered varied but similar

accounts of the evening

on which Jesus

gathered His 12 apostles

and during dinner staggered

them with a declaration--

"He that dippeth his

hand with me in the dish,

the same shall betray me."

King: It's an incredibly

emotional moment,

where we have this

charismatic religious leader

with his band of brothers,

and they're meeting

in an occupied city

whose authorities are

plotting against them,

and, of course, sitting

in their midst is a traitor,

the one who's going

to betray the leader,

and I think Leonardo

was probably electrified

by this story, and

he was going to tell it

in a very dramatic,

theatrical way,

a way in which no artist

previously had thought about,

let alone attempted.

Narrator: Leonardo began

exploring how the disciples,

roiled by Christ's words,

would twist their limbs,

wring their hands,

and distort their faces.

Man as Leonardo: One who

was drinking and has left the glass

where it was and turned

his head towards the speaker;

another, weaving the

fingers of his hands together,

turns, frowning

to his companion.

Kemp: For Leonardo,

he had to understand

how the body worked

as a responsive machine.

What happens when Christ

says, "One of you will betray me,"

with the brain and the

nervous impulses and so on?



He would see if he was

looking, say, at a disciple

who reacts to Christ's

pronouncement

by, say, throwing

out their arms,

that figure is expressing

il concetto dell'anima,

the purpose of the

mind, purpose of the soul.

It's a way of

expressing character

and expressing emotion.



[Door opens]

Narrator: Leonardo erected

scaffolding along the north end

of the refectory and

began his mural



first by coating the wall

with a layer of plaster,

then a binding agent,

and on top of that, a

primer of lead white.



He pounded nails into

the plaster for reference

and used a ruler to

draw construction lines

and a stylus to etch grids.



Using the incisions,

he laid out the scene's

ceiling and walls,

constructing a space with

realistic scale and depth

and geometric harmony.



One nail hole at the very

center would serve as the point

at which all perspective

lines would converge.



It was where he would

paint the face of Christ.



Man as Leonardo:

Filippo, Simone,

Matteo, Tome, Jacopo maggiore

Narrator: He made sketches

in chalk and used a brush

to paint outlines

directly atop the plaster.



Man as Leonardo: Pietro,

Andrea, Bartolomeo.



Marshall: The moment

you lay down the first mark

or first line, you're

engaged in a process

of evaluating every next step

and understanding whether or not

you have to make some major

changes or some minor changes.

This is what's going on all

the way through the process.

Narrator: Rather than follow

the traditional technique

for fresco in which pigments

ground in water are painted

on wet plaster and bind to

the wall in a matter of hours,

Leonardo used a

mixture of oil and tempera

that he'd concocted himself.

Bambach: This allowed

him the luxury of painting

during a long process of

time so he was not limited

to 8 hours a day and

just one part of the design,

and it also, very importantly,

allowed him to create

the transitions of tone

and the transitions of light

because you could not get

the effect of light with fresco.



Narrator: In layer upon

layer, he applied the pigments

that would, over time,

bring the scene to life,

often disregarding

his initial outlines

as the contours of

his design evolved.



For Christ's garments,

he used vermillion,

a pigment made from a

brick-red mineral called cinnabar,

and ultramarine, created

by crushing lapis lazuli,

a costly but brilliant

blue metamorphic rock

that could only be

found in Afghanistan.



"Often, he would not put

down his brush from first light

until nightfall, forgetting

to eat and drink,"

wrote the novelist

Matteo Bandello,

who, as a boy, had watched

as Leonardo toiled on the mural.



On other days, he

added little to the wall.



[Birds chirping]

Meanwhile, Sforza

had grown impatient

with Leonardo's unhurried pace

and directed his secretary

to draft a revised agreement

that would impose a

deadline on the artist.



Within months,

Leonardo was finished.



The mural rose 15

feet from bottom to top

and spanned 29 feet across

the refectory's north wall.



It showcased his gift for

blending tones and colors,

his mastery of light and shadow,

and his command of geometry,

which he wielded

with great precision

to bring harmony to

a moment of chaos.



Kemp: It's often said

he's portraying a moment,

that it's like a kind of flash

photograph of what's going on.

It is in a way, but it's

more complicated than that

because if you look in

the picture, the main thing

is that Christ's saying is,

"One of you will betray me."

Verdon: And they're all

saying, "Is it I?" "Is it I?" "Is it I?"

And this central figure,

totally focused on what's

going to happen the next day

and on the sign that

he's giving of the offering

of His body and blood, He

gazes down in deep sadness.

He doesn't look at the apostles.

Kemp: And all the disciples

react in a particular way

apart from Judas, who's rigid

and his tendons on his neck

stick out because he's aware

of what's going to happen.



The announcement of

betrayal then ripples out.



Delieuvin, speaking French:





King: This was the heart

of the painting for him

because it allowed him

to show gesture and action

and facial expression,

the motions of the mind.

All of this 3, 4 seconds

that happens at this table

is unfolding before our

eyes in this single image,

and the brilliance of him

being able to bring this off

is truly astounding.



Narrator: Leonardo da Vinci

had magnificently rendered

the gestures, both subtle

and dramatic, that testified

to the psychological

states of his subjects,

and he had resoundingly

answered the question

that he had asked

himself many times before--

"Tell me if anything

was ever done."



Bambach: For him, painting

was an entire

philosophical meditation.

It is so much a process

of thinking, of engaging,

of feeling that was essential

in his creative process,

and, really, this is part of

the reason that this painting

has that transformative,

transcendental aspect to it.



When we go as

viewers and look at it,

we all fall into

the same reverie.



Narrator: The artist now turned

his attention to other projects.

He provided illustrations

for "De divina proportione,"

a book on mathematics

by his friend Luca Pacioli.

He painted another

mural for Sforza--

a canopy of tangled tree

branches knit together

by a golden rope for the

vaulted ceiling of a tower

in the Duke's castle,

but in early 1499,

Louis XII, who had recently

succeeded his cousin Charles

as King of France,

began mustering his troops

for another invasion

of the Italian peninsula.

This time, the French

planned to depose Sforza.

Bramly, speaking French:

Narrator: Il Moro

fled to Innsbruck.

The French took

Milan without a fight.

Bramly, speaking French:



Narrator: Louis

XII arrived that fall

and visited the refectory.

When he saw the beauty

of Leonardo's "Last Supper,"

he decided that he wanted

to take it back to France,

but his engineers could find no

way to safely remove the mural.



After 18 years in Milan,

Leonardo decided it was

time for him to move on.

He was 47 years old.

His best-known painting

remained out of sight

in a monastery's dining hall.

[Thunder]



Bambach: Leonardo was

tremendously ambitious,

intellectually ambitious.

He had no concern for being

a successful

professional painter

and to be admired,

adored for that.

He wants to be

admired for his intellect.



Narrator: Eager to find a

patron who would support

his artistic and

scientific curiosity,

Leonardo headed

east toward Venice

with his friend Luca Pacioli.

Although he had no

commissions on the horizon,

Leonardo da Vinci's

greatest work was yet to come.