Reflections on Leonardo da Vinci
And the fear on the precipice of discovery
I recently finished Walter Isaacson’s wonderful and comprehensive biography on the life of Leonardo da Vinci.
Please enjoy 3 reflections on the great Renaissance Man, the creative genius, the man who was so much more than a painter.
Natural Born Genius
Giorgio Vasari, Leonardo da Vinci’s first biographer, considered his subject a vessel for God, rather than a mere mortal.
He proclaims, “Sometimes, in supernatural fashion, a single person is marvelously endowed by heaven.”
But this line of thinking gives the wrong impression of Leonardo.
He was a minimally educated man who struggled with math problems a high schooler could do in their sleep.
He spent a lifetime trying to learn Latin and never really got the hang of it.
He had as many shortcomings as you and I.
And so it was clearly not that the case that “Everything he does…comes from God.”
No, he earned his label of genius through different means.
Namely, an unending supply of curiosity and a knack for observation.
Combine that with a powerful will and you’ve got a true genius.
On the Precipice of Discovery
Speaking of curiosity, once Leonardo was hiking around Florence when he discovered a cave.
He wrote later of the experience:
“Having wandered some distance among gloomy rocks, I came to the mouth of a great cavern, in front of which I stood some time, astonished… I tried to see whether I could discover anything inside, but the darkness within prevented that. Suddenly there arose in me two contrary emotions, fear and desire — fear of the threatening dark cave, desire to see whether there were any marvelous things within.”
Throughout his life, Leonardo would follow the pull of desire despite his fear.
And always, both emotions proved well-founded.
The darkness was thick and suffocating and terrifying.
And the discoveries miraculous.
The Grand Scheme of Things
Let’s dive deeper into that interplay between fear and discovery.
Specifically, let’s talk about the Vitruvian Man.
According to Toby Lester, who wrote a book on the Vitruvian Man, the intense, perfectly proportioned drawing is more than meets the eye.
“It’s an idealized self-portrait in which Leonardo, stripped down to his essence, takes his own measure, and in doing so embodies a timeless human hope: that we just might have the power of mind to figure out how we fit into the grand scheme of things… Leonardo — as an artist, a natural philosopher, and a stand-in for all of humanity — peers at himself with furrowed brow and tries to grasp the secrets of his own nature.”
For Leonardo, this was a lifelong search.
Often haunted and fascinated in equal parts by visions of a great deluge, Leonardo’s notebooks are filled with writings and sketches about the world’s end.
For a man driven by curiosity and the search for answers big and small, this, the greatest question of all, evaded him.
Where do we fit in the grand scheme of things?
Not even Leonardo’s creative genius could find a satisfactory answer.
