Let's figure it out: why Madonna Litta was the subject of discussion on the eve of the 500th anniversary of Leonardo's death and what does it have to do with Boltraffio?

An important event in the world of art (and in the world in general) is approaching — 500 years since the death of Leonardo da Vinci. Without thinking about how weird a tradition to celebrate the death of a great man is, let’s better talk about what is happening around this date. Naturally, exhibitions are being prepared, books written, films shot, articles published and discoveries made. Or, rather, attempts at discoveries.

For example, the British art historian, Honorary Professor at the University of Oxford Martin Kemp suddenly said that he was outraged that the Hermitage Madonna Litta at an exhibition in the National Gallery in London was presented as the work of Leonardo da Vinci. Although he is absolutely sure that in fact it was created by Giovanni Antonio Boltraffio, Leonardo’s student. In response to this, the Hermitage experts politely replied that they were not much interested in Mr. Kemp’s valuable opinion, since they had their own valuable opinion.

The press presents this piece of news as sensational, although in fact it is not even fresh — after all, the exhibition that outraged Mr. Kemp, with the Madonna Litta work by Leonardo, took place almost seven years ago. However, disputes about the authorship of the second most famous Madonna of the Hermitage have been going on for much longer than seven years, almost since the appearance of this painting in the Museum’s collection.

There were a lot of reasons for that. Among them, it is worth mentioning a rather poor state of the picture — when it appeared in the Hermitage, it soon had to be transferred from the panel to the canvas, the absence of direct references to it from Leonardo’s biographers, and some uncharacteristic moments for him. For example, stiff drawing of the baby’s hands and a surprisingly meager elaboration of the Madonna’s cloak.

There are also a couple of arguments in favor of the authorship of his students: for example, the surviving sketches of the infant Christ and the fragment of Madonna’s garment, executed by Boltraffio’s hand. However, there is a powerful argument in favor of da Vinci’s important role in this work: the sketch

A study is an exercise painting that helps the painter better understand the object he or she paints. It is simple and clear, like sample letters in a school student’s copybook. Rough and ready, not detailed, with every stroke being to the point, a study is a proven method of touching the world and making a catalogue of it. However, in art history, the status of the study is vague and open to interpretation. Despite its auxiliary role, a study is sometimes viewed as something far more significant than the finished piece. Then, within an impressive frame, it is placed on a museum wall.
So, when does a study remain a mere drill, and when can we call it an artwork in its own right, full of life and having artistic value? Read more

of Madonna Litta's head, stored in the Louvre and created, undoubtedly, by Leonardo.

In addition to the above mentioned at least somehow real arguments, opponents of da Vinci’s authorship love to make assumptions a la "At the Milan court Leonardo was very busy creating a colossal equestrian statue and The Last Supper, so he had no time for creating Madonna Litta."

Agree, this objection is difficult to call serious — while working for Ludovico il Moro, Leonardo quite wastefully spent his days on anatomical studies, recreating the scheme of the proportions of the human figure by Vitruvius, projects of various mechanisms, the invention of the machine for grinding needles and many other activities, so he could easily find some time to create a small painting. Or at least to start it and at some point leave it to his students (Leonardo's love to quit work at the cardboard stage is known to everyone).

For example, the Louvre, which has the largest collection of paintings by da Vinci, has been defending the authorship of La Belle Ferronnière for decades. The museum has almost surrendered with Bacchus and "given it away" to the workshop, and "settled out" the small Annunciation, previously attributed to the very young Leonardo, from the rest of the master’s paintings.

The Pinacoteca Ambrosiana in Milan also has to fend off the assumption that The Portrait of a Musician was painted not by Leonardo, but, say, Antonello da Messina.

Specialists of the National Gallery in London, which owns the second, later Virgin of the Rocks, probably are not very happy, reading the articles of their colleagues attributing a substantial part of the work on this painting to the de Predis brothers.

The owners of the Scottish and New York Madonna of the Yarnwinder are also not pleased by European art historians, with a rare consensus considering their Madonnas either containing a very small percentage of Leonardo’s participation, or being copies of the lost original, made by his students.

In addition, there is also the badly painted "profile" of Isabella d’Este, which they, nevertheless, try to "attribute" to Leonardo (based on his graphic sketch

A study is an exercise painting that helps the painter better understand the object he or she paints. It is simple and clear, like sample letters in a school student’s copybook. Rough and ready, not detailed, with every stroke being to the point, a study is a proven method of touching the world and making a catalogue of it. However, in art history, the status of the study is vague and open to interpretation. Despite its auxiliary role, a study is sometimes viewed as something far more significant than the finished piece. Then, within an impressive frame, it is placed on a museum wall.
So, when does a study remain a mere drill, and when can we call it an artwork in its own right, full of life and having artistic value? Read more

for the portrait and repeated requests of the Duchess to create a picturesque version).

Consider also La Belle Ferronnière, belonging to the Hahn family: according to general opinion, the painting was created around the 18th — 19th century, and according to the owners, it is a true Leonardo, and even better than that in the Louvre.

It is also worth to mention The Beautiful Princess drawn on parchment (which Leonardo didn’t really use), the authorship of which already mentioned in the beginning of the text Martin Kemp with conviction ascribes to Leonardo. However, other experts are not so firmly convinced of it, and a famous British art forger Shaun Greenhalgh even claims that when he drew the "beautiful princess", her name was Sally and she worked as a cashier, but who would believe a cheater? Although it is worth noting that for some reason the "beautiful princess" was not invited to the exhibition, where the Madonna Litta was exhibited under the signature of Leonardo.

And, of course, we must not forget about the sensational, sold for a record price for an artwork, Salvatore Mundi, so "tortured" with overpainting and restoration that it’s impossible to say whether it was created by Leonardo, Solario, Ambrogio de Predis (don't confuse with the rest of the de Predis), Boltraffio, Luini, d’Oggiono, da Sesto, Melzi, Giampietrino, da Lodi, or even — how awful! — by Salai, who painted hopelessly badly, but whose works were often corrected by the teacher.

This boy from an aristocratic family met Leonardo in Florence, at the age of about 12 years. Given his background, we can assume that he became a pupil of the quite well-known artist primarily because he wanted and was able to draw (unlike the same Salai, who got to da Vinci’s studio only because of his beauty).

Having gone to Milan together with his mentor, he stayed with him for a significant part of the first Milan period, and, therefore, watched the transformation of Leonardo’s style and had the opportunity to work on the same panels and use the same materials as his teacher. The themes of his works are quite diverse: he painted portraits, Madonnas and saints feeling comfortable enough in both small and large formats.

The composition of Boltraffio’s works is usually well thought out (although overloaded), his strokes are accurate, the proportions are precise (and it is worth mentioning that in Leonardo’s time, far from every artist knew how to check their eye using mathematics). His artworks contained neither anatomical mistakes nor rough colours, characteristic of Salai, nor some sweetness of Melzi.

His palette is quite close to Leonardo’s. Boltraffio’s drawing of the adult characters' hands is also very good (although they are sometimes too big), and the faces of his heroines, at first glance, are very similar to the characteristic beauties of da Vinci. We all know those eyes with swollen eyelids, and the recognizable, almost invisible eyebrows, and the shape of a thin, rather long straight nose and, most importantly, a hint of a smile, not even a curve of the mouth, but only a tension in its corners.

In general, Boltraffio is more about flesh, rather than spirit. His Madonnas are so material that they can be desired. Leonardo, however, achieved that amazing synthesis of realistic and mystical, that his Madonnas, with all their femininity, were hard to imagine as sexual objects.

Of course, all this does not negate the fact that Boltraffio was a very good painter, even though he, like the rest of the Leonardesque artists, remained in captivity of his teacher’s elusive smile.

Author: Oksana Sanzharova