As art history lovers flock to the Louvre in Paris to see the blockbuster show celebrating the 500th anniversary of the death of Leonardo da Vinci, a new painting by his hand may have been discovered at a French chateau.
The work, a portrait of a bald man that has been in the historic house for centuries, could be by the Renaissance master, although the evidence is far from clear.
The director of the historic house, Sylvie Giroux, told Agence France Presse that â€œit is not impossibleâ€ that Leonardo painted the Italian political theorist, best known for his political treatise, The Prince.
The local archivist, Anne Gerardot, is more cautious. â€œJust because it says so in the archives does not mean itâ€™s true,â€ she told AFP, noting that she thinks the Old Master portrait more closely resembles the French Renaissance essayist Montaigne.
Thereâ€™s also the issue of the paintingâ€™s wooden support, which has a smooth appearance uncharacteristic of Leonardoâ€™s time. It could be the result of restoration work done in the 1890s, or a clue that the painting was made at a later date.
But the painting, featuring a thin, bearded figure in a black coat and white shirt with necktie, does match the description in the letter, which mentions a portrait on wood measuring 22 by 17 inches. In the letter, which is dated 1874, the estate manager who wrote it says: â€œI am having the concierge wrap up and put on the train a box containing a painting (Machiavelli by Leonardo da Vinci).â€
The chateau plans to submit the painting to a battery of tests in the hopes of determining its subject and authorship.
It’s difficult to judge from the photograph, but my own guess is: neither of the above.
After 19 minutes of dueling, with four bidders on the telephone and one in the room, Leonardo da Vinciâ€™s â€œSalvator Mundiâ€ sold on Wednesday night for $450.3 million with fees, shattering the high for any work of art sold at auction. It far surpassed Picassoâ€™s â€œWomen of Algiers,â€ which fetched $179.4 million at Christieâ€™s in May 2015. The buyer was not immediately disclosed.
There were gasps throughout the sale, as the bids climbed by tens of millions up to $225 million, by fives up to $260 million, and then by twos. As the bidding slowed, and a buyer pondered the next multi-million-dollar increment, Jussi Pylkkanen, the auctioneer, said, â€œItâ€™s an historic moment; weâ€™ll wait.â€
Toward the end, Alex Rotter, Christieâ€™s co-chairman of postwar and contemporary art, who represented a buyer on the phone, made two big jumps to shake off one last rival bid from Francis de Poortere, Christieâ€™s head of old master paintings.
The price is all the more remarkable at a time when the old masters market is contracting, because of limited supply and collectorsâ€™ penchant for contemporary art.
And to critics, the astronomical sale attests to something else â€” the degree to which salesmanship has come to drive and dominate the conversation about art and its value. Some art experts pointed to the paintingâ€™s damaged condition and its questionable authenticity.
â€œThis was a thumping epic triumph of branding and desire over connoisseurship and reality,â€ said Todd Levin, a New York art adviser.
Christieâ€™s marketing campaign was perhaps unprecedented in the art world; it was the first time the auction house went so far as to enlist an outside agency to advertise the work. Christieâ€™s also released a video that included top executives pitching the painting to Hong Kong clients as â€œthe holy grail of our businessâ€ and likening it to â€œthe discovery of a new planet.â€ Christieâ€™s called the work â€œthe Last da Vinci,â€ the only known painting by the Renaissance master still in a private collection (some 15 others are in museums).
â€œItâ€™s been a brilliant marketing campaign,â€ said Alan Hobart, director of the Pyms Gallery in London, who has acquired museum-quality artworks across a range of historical periods for the British businessman and collector Graham Kirkham. â€œThis is going to be the future.â€
Times Critic Jason Farago (speaking on behalf of the Establishment) does not like the painting or its buyer.
You canâ€™t put a price on beauty; you can put a price on a name. When the National Gallery in London exhibited a painting of Christ in 2011 as a heretofore lost work by Leonardo da Vinci, the surprise in art historical circles was exceeded only by the salivating of dealers and auctioneers.
The painting, â€œSalvator Mundi,â€ is the only Leonardo in private hands, and was brought to market by the family trust of Dmitry E. Rybolovlev, the Russian billionaire entangled in an epic multinational lawsuit with his former dealer, Yves Bouvier. On Wednesday night, at Christieâ€™s postwar and contemporary sale (in which it was incongruously included to reach bidders beyond Renaissance connoisseurs), the Leonardo sold for a shocking $450.3 million, the highest price ever paid for a work of art at auction. Worth it? Well, what are you buying: the painting or the brand?
The painting, when purchased at an estate sale in 2005 for less than $10,000, was initially considered a copy of a lost Leonardo, completed around 1500 and once in the collection of Charles I of England. Over time, its wood surface became cracked and chafed, and it had been crudely overpainted, as an image in the sale catalog shows. Cleaned by the conservator Dianne Dwyer Modestini, the painting now appears in some limbo state between its original form and an exacting, though partially imagined, rehabilitation.
Authentication is a serious but subjective business. Iâ€™m not the man to affirm or reject its attribution; it is accepted as a Leonardo by many serious scholars, though not all. I can say, however, what I felt I was looking at when I took my place among the crowds whoâ€™d queued an hour or more to behold and endlessly photograph â€œSalvator Mundiâ€: a proficient but not especially distinguished religious picture from turn-of-the-16th-century Lombardy, put through a wringer of restorations.
A retired doctor from a remote town has discovered his father had a collection worth millions and he could sell it. The doctor went to a Paris auction house and showed them 14 ink drawings. One 7 1/2-inch by 5-inch piece of paper with a sketch on each side was interesting. The auction houseâ€™s expert on old master paintings realized the drawing might be from the 16th century. Three months and three art experts later, the sketch has been authenticated as the work of Leonardo da Vinci, drawn about 1482-85. The handwriting, inscription, and the subject are all related to a known drawing of St. Sebastian by da Vinci. The good news for the owner is the sketch is estimated at about $15.8 million. The bad news is that the French government has put an export ban on the art work because it is â€œa national treasure.â€ The owner would like to offer it to an international market where it could sell for much more. The French government has 30 months to buy the sketch at market value.
The royal ChÃ¢teau de Chambord at Chambord, Loir-et-Cher, France, is one of the most recognizable chÃ¢teaux in the world because of its very distinctive French Renaissance architecture which blends traditional French medieval forms with classical Renaissance structures. The building, which was never completed, was constructed by King Francis I of France.
Chambord is the largest chÃ¢teau in the Loire Valley; it was built to serve as a hunting lodge for Francis I, who maintained his royal residences at the chÃ¢teaux of Blois and Amboise. The original design of the ChÃ¢teau de Chambord is attributed, though with some doubt, to Domenico da Cortona; Leonardo da Vinci may also have been involved. …
One of the architectural highlights is the spectacular open double spiral staircase that is the centerpiece of the chÃ¢teau. The two spirals ascend the three floors without ever meeting, illuminated from above by a sort of light house at the highest point of the chÃ¢teau. There are suggestions that Leonardo da Vinci may have designed the staircase, but this has not been confirmed. Writer John Evelyn said of the staircase “it is devised with four (sic) entries or ascents, which cross one another, so that though four persons meet, they never come in sight, but by small loopholes, till they land. It consists of 274 steps (as I remember), and is an extraordinary work, but of far greater expense than use or beauty.”
Scribbled notes and sketches on a page in a notebook by Leonardo da Vinci, previously dismissed as irrelevant by an art historian, have been identified as the place where he first recorded his understanding of the laws of friction.
The research by Professor Ian Hutchings, Professor of Manufacturing Engineering at the University of Cambridge and a Fellow of St Johnâ€™s College, is the first detailed chronological study of Leonardoâ€™s work on friction, and has also shown how he continued to apply his knowledge of the subject to wider work on machines over the next two decades.
It is widely known that Leonardo conducted the first systematic study of friction, which underpins the modern science of â€œtribologyâ€, but exactly when and how he developed these ideas has been uncertain until now.
Professor Hutchings has discovered that Leonardoâ€™s first statement of the laws of friction is in a tiny notebook measuring just 92 mm x 63 mm. The book, which dates from 1493 and is now held in the Victoria and Albert Museum in London, contains a statement scribbled quickly in Leonardoâ€™s characteristic â€œmirror writingâ€ from right to left.
Ironically the page had already attracted interest because it also carries a sketch of an old woman in black pencil with a line below reading â€œcosa bella mortal passa e non duraâ€, which can be translated as â€œmortal beauty passes and does not lastâ€. Amid debate surrounding the significance of the quote and speculation that the sketch could represent an aged Helen of Troy, the Director of the V & A in the 1920s referred to the jottings below as â€œirrelevant notes and diagrams in red chalkâ€.
Professor Hutchingsâ€™s study has, however, revealed that the script and diagrams in red are of great interest to the history of tribology, marking a pivotal moment in Leonardoâ€™s work on the subject.
The rough geometrical figures underneath Leonardoâ€™s red notes show rows of blocks being pulled by a weight hanging over a pulley â€“ in exactly the same kind of experiment students might do today to demonstrate the laws of friction.
Professor Hutchings said: â€œThe sketches and text show Leonardo understood the fundamentals of friction in 1493. He knew that the force of friction acting between two sliding surfaces is proportional to the load pressing the surfaces together and that friction is independent of the apparent area of contact between the two surfaces. These are the â€˜laws of frictionâ€™ that we nowadays usually credit to a French scientist, Guillaume Amontons, working two hundred years later.â€
Based on a detailed study of Leonardo da Vinci×³s notebooks, this review examines the development of his understanding of the laws of friction and their application. His work on friction originated in studies of the rotational resistance of axles and the mechanics of screw threads. He pursued the topic for more than 20 years, incorporating his empirical knowledge of friction into models for several mechanical systems. Diagrams which have been assumed to represent his experimental apparatus are misleading, but his work was undoubtedly based on experimental measurements and probably largely involved lubricated contacts. Although his work had no influence on the development of the subject over the succeeding centuries, Leonardo da Vinci holds a unique position as a pioneer in tribology.
When Leonardo da Vinci wasnâ€™t painting portraits of medieval Italyâ€™s nobility, he was figuring out how to keep their drinks cold. … [A] prototype based on his design for a cooling machine â€” the earliest known attempt at refrigeration â€” has gone on display in Milan.
Leonardo scholar Alessandro Vezzosi said the artist invented the machine around 1492, when he was at the court of the Sforzas in Milan. His concept drawing depicts a sophisticated system of bellows that pump air into three leather chambers. These push the air briskly through 18 spouts into a central vacuum that holds the container to be cooled.
To a modern eye, Leonardoâ€™s device seems cumbersome â€” so much space for so little refrigeration. But we live in a world populated by a dazzling array of high-tech refrigerators and freezers; we stuff them with shopping carts full of food items that donâ€™t even need to stay cold. In the artistâ€™s day, there were only passive methods of cooling (natural ventilation, underground storage), and the machine would have been remarkable.
Itâ€™s possible that Leonardo built it during his lifetime. Vezzosi explained that since the artist also designed special water fountains for lavish banquets, â€œthereâ€™s no reason to rule out the possibility that this machine was also built in his laboratory.â€ It might have cooled anything from punch to sorbet (gelato was only invented a few decades later).
Sent to Ludovico Sforza in 1482. He was hired. i09.com:
1. I have a sort of extremely light and strong bridges, adapted to be most easily carried, and with them you may pursue, and at any time flee from the enemy; and others, secure and indestructible by fire and battle, easy and convenient to lift and place. Also methods of burning and destroying those of the enemy.
2. I know how, when a place is besieged, to take the water out of the trenches, and make endless variety of bridges, and covered ways and ladders, and other machines pertaining to such expeditions.
3. If, by reason of the height of the banks, or the strength of the place and its position, it is impossible, when besieging a place, to avail oneself of the plan of bombardment, I have methods for destroying every rock or other fortress, even if it were founded on a rock, etc.
4. Again, I have kinds of mortars; most convenient and easy to carry; and with these I can fling small stones almost resembling a storm; and with the smoke of these cause great terror to the enemy, to his great detriment and confusion.
5. And if the fight should be at sea I have kinds of many machines most efficient for offense and defense; and vessels which will resist the attack of the largest guns and powder and fumes.
6. I have means by secret and tortuous mines and ways, made without noise, to reach a designated spot, even if it were needed to pass under a trench or a river.
7. I will make covered chariots, safe and unattackable, which, entering among the enemy with their artillery, there is no body of men so great but they would break them. And behind these, infantry could follow quite unhurt and without any hindrance.
8. In case of need I will make big guns, mortars, and light ordnance of fine and useful forms, out of the common type.
9. Where the operation of bombardment might fail, I would contrive catapults, mangonels, trabocchi, and other machines of marvellous efficacy and not in common use. And in short, according to the variety of cases, I can contrive various and endless means of offense and defense.
10. In times of peace I believe I can give perfect satisfaction and to the equal of any other in architecture and the composition of buildings public and private; and in guiding water from one place to another.
11. I can carry out sculpture in marble, bronze, or clay, and also I can do in painting whatever may be done, as well as any other, be he who he may.
Again, the bronze horse may be taken in hand, which is to be to the immortal glory and eternal honor of the prince your father of happy memory, and of the illustrious house of Sforza.
And if any of the above-named things seem to anyone to be impossible or not feasible, I am most ready to make the experiment in your park, or in whatever place may please your Excellency â€“ to whom I comment myself with the utmost humility, etc.
[A musical] instrument combining a piano and cello has finally been played to an audience more than 500 years after it was dreamt up Leonardo da Vinci.
Da Vinci, the Italian Renaissance genius who painted the Mona Lisa, invented the â€˜â€˜viola organistaâ€™â€™ – which looks like a baby grand piano â€“ but never built it, experts say.
The viola organista has now come to life, thanks to a Polish concert pianist with a flair for instrument-making and the patience and passion to interpret da Vinciâ€™s plans.
Full of steel strings and spinning wheels, Slawomir Zubrzyckiâ€™s creation is a musical and mechanical work of art.
â€˜â€˜This instrument has the characteristics of three we know: the harpsichord, the organ and the viola da gamba,â€™â€™ Zubrzycki said as he debuted the instrument at the Academy of Music in the southern Polish city of Krakow….
The flat bed of its interior is lined with golden spruce. Sixty-one gleaming steel strings run across it, similar to the inside of a baby grand.
Each is connected to the keyboard, complete with smaller black keys for sharp and flat notes. But unlike a piano, it has no hammered dulcimers. Instead, there are four spinning wheels wrapped in horse-tail hair, like violin bows.
To turn them, Zubrzycki pumps a pedal below the keyboard connected to a crankshaft. As he tinkles the keys, they press the strings down onto the wheels, emitting rich, sonorous tones reminiscent of a cello, an organ and even an accordion.
The effect is a sound that da Vinci dreamt of, but never heard; there are no historical records suggesting he or anyone else of his time built the instrument he designed.
A sketch and notes in da Vinciâ€™s characteristic inverted script is found in his Codex Atlanticus, a 12-volume collection of his manuscripts and designs for everything from weaponry to flight.
â€˜â€˜I have no idea what Leonardo da Vinci might think of the instrument Iâ€™ve made, but Iâ€™d hope heâ€™d be pleased,â€™â€™ said Zubrzycki, who spend three years and 5000 hours bringing da Vinciâ€™s creation to life.
a 500-year-old mystery was apparently solved today after a painting attributed to Leonardo da Vinci was discovered in a Swiss bank vault.
The painting, which depicts Isabella dâ€™Este, a Renaissance noblewoman, was found in a private collection of 400 works kept in a Swiss bank by an Italian family who asked not to be identified.
It appears to be a completed, painted version of a pencil sketch drawn by Leonardo da Vinci in Mantua in the Lombardy region of northern Italy in 1499.
The sketch, the apparent inspiration for the newly found work, hangs in the Louvre Museum in Paris.
For centuries it had been debated whether Leonardo had actually had the time or inclination to develop the sketch into a painted portrait.
After seeing the drawing he produced, the marquesa wrote to the artist, imploring him to produce a full-blown painting.
But shortly afterwards he embarked on one of his largest works, The Battle of Anghiari on the walls of Florenceâ€™s town hall, and then, in 1503, started working on the Mona Lisa.
Art historians had long believed he simply ran out of time â€” or lost interest â€” in completing the commission for Isabella dâ€™Este.
Now it appears that he did in fact manage to finish the project â€” perhaps when he encountered the aristocrat, one of the most influential female figures of her day, in Rome in 1514.
Scientific tests suggest that the oil portrait is indeed the work of da Vinci, according to Carlo Pedretti, a professor emeritus of art history and an expert in Leonardo studies at the University of California, Los Angeles.
â€œThere are no doubts that the portrait is the work of Leonardo,â€ Prof Pedretti, a recognised expert in authenticating disputed works by Da Vinci, told Corriere della Sera newspaper.
â€œI can immediately recognise Da Vinciâ€™s handiwork, particularly in the womanâ€™s face.â€
Tests have shown that the type of pigment in the portrait was the same as that used by Leonardo and that the primer used to treat the canvas on which it was painted corresponds to that employed by the Renaissance genius.
Carbon dating, conducted by a mass spectrometry laboratory at the University of Arizona, has shown that there is a 95 per cent probability that the portrait was painted between 1460 and 1650.