The Search for the Hidden da Vinci

An engraving by Peter Paul Rubens of Leonardo da Vinci's long-lost 'The Battle of Anghiari,' based on copies of the work before it disappeared
How amazing is this?

For 30 years, Maurizio Seracini, a pioneer in forensic art analysis, has been experimenting with noninvasive imaging techniques to find the da Vinci mural – should it still exist – without touching or disturbing the equally priceless frescoes painted over it. Dr. Seracini's fascination with da Vinci's missing masterwork – The Battle of Anghiari – spurred a revolution in the science of art diagnostics, harnessing an array of medical and military technologies, ranging from radar mapping and X-ray fluorescence to ultrasound probes and ultraviolet scans.

Quite amazing. That work is being done in the Palazzo Vecchio, in Firenze.

Until recently, art scholars were confident they knew the fate of da Vinci's mural of war. The painting, so tradition says, had been botched by Leonardo's own hand, abandoned in shame and then obliterated by an imperious Medici duke.

In 1977, however, Dr. Seracini, then a young apprentice to noted UCLA art scholar Carlo Pedretti, noticed a curious thing. He was inspecting the vast battle fresco by Giorgio Vasari that since 1563 has covered the long wall once occupied by da Vinci's work. There, in the clash of armies depicted near the ceiling, he was startled to discover that Vasari had painted two words in white on a tiny green banner all but invisible to view from below: "cerca trova."

Seek; you will find.

A confluence of technology and art: Before he turned to art, Dr. Seracini trained in bioengineering at UC San Diego and became expert in medical imaging during postgraduate work in electrical engineering at Padua University. He has used the tools of science to diagnose thousands of major paintings and sculptures – from Botticelli and Caravaggio to Giotto and Raphael. With ultraviolet imaging, he proved in 2002 that much of a celebrated da Vinci masterwork – The Adoration of the Magi – had been painted over by someone else. "For me a work of art is like a patient," Dr. Seracini says.

A Google image search turned up this:

Staring Dürer in the Face

The Wall Street Journal has a great weekend section; in fact, it is a top-notch newspaper. Of course in its financial pages the conservatism (as they define it; I might rather call it right-wing-ism) becomes apparent; and its editorial pages are so right wing they at times threaten to fall off the edge of the earth.

Today there is an article about Albrecht Dürer's self-portrait from 1500. I have never heard of Albrecht Dürer.

In his book "The Greatest Works of Art in Western Civilization," Thomas Hoving, the controversial former director of the Metropolitan Museum of Art (whose eye is unassailable even if his provocations are not), called the picture "the single most arrogant, annoying and gorgeous portrait ever created."

Hewlett-Woodmere Library, of course, has several book about Dürer. Two of them have the portrait.

Then along came cocky young Dürer, who first drew himself at age 13. With each portrayal that followed, he showed himself gaining in stature and elegance. In a 1493 painting, clearly labeled as a self-portrait, he wears a red, tassled cap and refined, somewhat aspirational clothing and holds a few flowers. In 1498, he has grown more assured, more natural, more genteel: He poses beside a window, turned slightly to his audience, in garments trimmed with gold lace.

In 1500, a bolder-still Dürer made his stunner: This time, Dürer faces front -- a rarity at the time -- and he stares directly, intensely at the viewer. His face, slightly elongated, is symmetrical; his long curly hair tumbles down onto a rich, velvety brown cloak, trimmed in fur. His right hand, Dürer's creative hand, extends upward, as if it may be about to gesture, perhaps give a blessing. The light falls unevenly on him, also highlighting his right side and enhancing the painting's realism. To his left, Dürer inscribed the painting: "Thus I, Albrecht Dürer from Nuremburg, painted myself with indelible colors at the age of 28 years."

To viewers of his era, the image is unmistakably Christ-like. Both confident and self-conscious, sensuous and spiritual, Dürer's work was destined to become an icon.

What seems absolutely indisputable, however, is that Dürer is the greatest artist of the Northern Renaissance, not least because of this beautiful self-portrait.

Northern Renaissance? I'm not familiar with the term. I've learned something. More, I also learned about Dürer.