The true embodiment of the Renaissance, Leonardo da Vinci remains possibly the greatest genius that the world has ever seen. He could write in perfect inverted mirror script, draw perfect circles freehand, and had a knowledge of accurate bodily form that has rarely been equalled. He was famous even in his own time as a master of painting, sculpture, architecture, engineering and science, and his work proved innovative in many fields for centuries after his death. Scientifically, his work in anatomy, optics, hydraulics, mathematics, aerodynamics and several other areas has often closely foreshadowed even the most modern developments. Unfortunately, bad luck or poor timing meant that much of his work went unfinished, and of the commissions he did execute, many did not survive.
Although the final painting of ‘The Virgin and Child with St. Ann’ is quite standard symbolically, the cartoon is anything but. A first glance shows Mary talking with her mother Ann, both smiling, with Mary holding the baby Jesus whilst a second child plays at Ann’s feet. Even a quick second glance shows that something is not right, however. To start with, Ann does not seem to have a body of her own. Her shoulder blends seamlessly into Mary. From da Vinci, the consummate master of anatomical depiction, the impression must be deliberate. Furthermore, the two women’s heads are on the same level, whilst if Ann was truly behind Mary, her perspective should be slightly above and/or behind. Biologically, Anne has to be at least fifteen years older than Mary, but the two women are clearly the same age, and almost identical in their features. Similarly, the two children are so similar that they could be twins, save that the one on the right has thicker hair, a slumped pose, and a moody expression. Between the two children, a ghostly hand –- perhaps supposed to be Ann’s –- points to the heavens.
The real key to the sketch is in the women’s faces, though. Mary, as is to be expected, is a study in sweetness and light. Beautiful, happy and innocent, she is gazing down at the child in her arms with adoration. The other face, however, is exactly the opposite. While Mary is rendered in tones of light, Ann is shown through contrasts of darkness. Her eyes are sunken pits of shadow, her cheeks skeletally hollow, and her smile is actively threatening, predatory even. It is as if she is about to strike the good head down.
The symbolism of the juxtaposition between good and evil is inescapable. The women appear to be sharing a body because they are. The figure is the creator-destroyer, nature herself, all-bountiful yet also lethal. The children, too, seem to represent poles – the good child is Apollo, light, reason and understanding, and the dark child is Dionysus, passion, madness and frenzy. The Christ child is blessing his companion, accepting and embracing evil side of his nature. The hand between them shows the source of this duality, that the heavens themselves are the source of both good and evil, reason and madness, life and death.
It would be a brave piece at any time, but at the end of the fifteenth century, art which contradicted dogma could be fatal. It is testament to da Vinci’s genius and reputation that both he and the sketch survived — and an enduring statement of his courage and passion that it ever came into being.
Okay, that’s just wacky. Quite an interesting analysis of the image.
Taking a look at the final product, Da Vinci has replaced the second child with a lamb with which the baby Jesus seems to be performing an unnatural act. That this survived is also sort of curious, when looked at from my perverted point of view.
@JBishop Most art historians have dated the cartoon above as having been rendered after the execution of the painting you link to in your response, which was painted in 1498 (some dates for the cartoon are as lat as 1508). Furthermore, the cartoon of the painting you link to has been discovered under the painting itself; the cartoon above is of a different piece of art altogether.