Is Leonardo da Vinci’s masterpiece hidden behind a wall in Florence?

Leonardo da Vinci. Michelangelo. Two names, one battle for the ages: A battle that culminated in a room where a hidden masterpiece may still be concealed.

It’s weird, thinking of these immaculate, sublime artists as regular guys — but that’s what they were. Despite their monumental achievements, they were humans. Complete with feuds, flaws, and failures.

It makes me like them more.

The Incredible Michelangelo

Michelangelo was a bit like the Hulk. You didn’t want to make him angry. You wouldn’t like him when he’s angry.

He rubbed many the wrong way. When he was a teenager learning how to paint frescos, another student named Torrigiani punched him in the face and broke his nose — he’d bear the effects of that the rest of his life. In just about every painting and every sculpture of the man, his nose is noticeably crooked.

The other guy got the blame, but most stories acknowledge Michelangelo might’ve been taunting him a bit.

You see, Michelangelo was good. He was really good. And he knew it. Obviously he could back it up, but questioning his abilities would drop a David-sized chunk of wrath on your head.

Back then, some thought sculptors were like manual laborers. I’m not sure God could save you if you even hinted that Michelangelo was one of those, or if you attacked his intelligence or artistry. I mean, we’re talking about a guy who told the Pope to screw himself.

Not literally. But kind of.

It’s Only a Paper Hat

To Michelangelo, the art was everything. He was intensely religious, and saw his work as imitating that of God: As God created man, Michelangelo created art that represented God’s creations. It was his way of honoring God.

 Well…and his way of showing off.

His work consumed him. He’d toil through the night, attaching a candle to a little paper hat. He’d wear the same clothes for days, assistants reminding him to eat. Grumbling, frustrated, chiseling out little bits of himself with each strike of the hammer. Even when he became wealthy, he still lived the life of a poor man.

While we can look at Michelangelo as the prototype of the tortured artist, it’s not like he didn’t have friends. Some, like his fellow painter Granacci, were close with him for his entire life. He did have friends, he did go out to dinner with them, and so on — but when it was time to work, he often did so in solitude. 

He was also rather paranoid about people spying on his work and ripping him off. There was a fairly famous incident where he claimed Raphael was secreted into the Sistine Chapel late at night, and copied what he’d done. 

If I were you, I wouldn’t bother him if he’s working. The dude would probably flip out on you.

The Fashionable Hat

Leonardo was kind of the opposite. He was, for lack of a better term, “fancy.”

Leonardo liked nice things. He liked wealthy people. He dressed well, wore colorful hats, and traveled around with an entourage. He loved theatrics and designing mechanisms for plays.

If he was around today, I think he’d have been in an a capella group in high school, running his own Twitch channel where people would watch him draw and show off his inventions and magic tricks. Then he’d spend his donations on designer clothes.

And he didn’t really want to be known as an artist. He was an engineer. He famously wrote a letter to the Duke of Milan, asking for a job:

”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.”

He goes on and on, listing all the devices he can create to wage war. It’s only near the end where he says he can paint and sculpt. He also appeals to the Duke’s vanity by saying he can make a massive bronze statue of the Duke’s dad on horseback.

Lazy Leonardo da Vinci

“Lazy” is how some saw Leonardo back then. I’d just say he was easily distracted. Nowadays, many believe he had a form of ADHD.

He’d get a commission, begin working, and just…never finish. While his art was praised, he gained a reputation for being unreliable. He’d start a painting, then lose interest and throw himself into studying the paths of birds, or how he could redirect the course of a river. Now, it wasn’t always unrelated. Leonardo’s scientific studies greatly informed his art, as he was constantly searching for how to best depict what the human eye sees. But nevertheless, the actual art itself often fell by the wayside.

While some works were abandoned, others he’d just take his sweet time with. Leonardo had a very specific way of painting — he carried the Mona Lisa with him for years, just adding a bit here or there.

Take The Last Supper. I mean, don’t actually take it. It’d be really hard, and you’d get in trouble. It was supposed to be a fresco: paint applied to wet plaster. You had to move fast — but Leonardo the turtle wouldn’t. He laid down an undercoat, and painted on a dry surface.

It took years. Sometimes he wouldn’t come to work. Other times he’d go the whole day through, pulling a Michelangelo and forgetting to eat. And on occasion, according to a priest who was there, he’d just randomly appear, then:

”…climb the scaffolding, seize a brush, apply a brush stroke or two to one of the figures, and suddenly depart.”

His experimental non-fresco self-destructed. The paint started flaking soon after it was completed, and remains heavily damaged today.

The Throwdown

Leonardo’s in Florence, hanging out with his bros, as Leonardo tended to do. He was a popular guy, strikingly handsome and eyecatching in his bright hats and colorful clothes. If you wanted to be seen and known around town, hang out with Leonardo.

They’re discussing Dante. Someone asks his opinion on a passage, and Michelangelo shuffles by — probably leaving a cloud of marble dust like Pigpen.

”Leonardo said: ‘Michelangelo will explain it to you.’ It seemed to Michelangelo that Leonardo had said this to mock him, and he replied with anger: ‘You explain it yourself, you who have made the design of a horse to be cast in bronze but who was unable to cast it and abandoned it in shame.’ And having said this, he turned his back on them and left. Leonardo remained there, made red in the face by his words.”

That’s an anonymous quote, but according to a recent book, there’s a number of similar accounts. When I look at the picture above, I can’t help but see Michelangelo in the place of that woman, turning his head like “What’d you say about me? You show-off son of a…”

As I said, don’t mess with Michelangelo. Otherwise, Hulk.

The Showdown

Leonardo’s hired to paint a giant fresco in the Palazzo Vecchio, inside the Hall of the Five Hundred. It’s to depict the Battle of Anghiari, when Florence defeated Milan.

Leonardo was in no rush. He sets up shop in a large room at the nearby church of Santa Maria Novella, basically putting on shows — inviting everyone to come and watch him draw while listening to music. Early Twitch.

He also came up with this giant accordion-like elevator scaffold to work off of. Why? Because: Leonardo.

The city gets annoyed that he’s taking so long, and Leonardo gets angry that they’re bugging him. They have to draw up a new contract with specific deadlines.

They soon get Michelangelo to paint a separate fresco in the same room. The guy who hired him said it was to put him “in competition with Leonardo.” It seems obvious they thought it’d spur Leonardo to finish. After all, he couldn’t be shown up by his chalky rival.

And Michelangelo famously hated painting, as we all know from his reluctance to work on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. I’m guessing a desire to embarrass his nemesis played into him taking the job.

Michelangelo’s subject was the Battle of Cascina, where Florence beat Pisa. In Michelangelo fashion, he chose a part of the story where the troops were surprised while bathing and rushed to put on their armor. He never missed a chance to depict nude dudes and show off his knowledge of anatomy. After all: God created man, Michelangelo depicted man.

Dueling Quitters

So here’s the most Leonardo thing ever: He still won’t paint a fresco. It cramps his style. He lays a thick coat on the wall, then likely mixes paint with wax.

It’s a disaster — the painting starts to melt. He sets up braziers, hoping it’ll dry. It only partially works. Leonardo quits, writing an odd account where he blames the rain.

“On 6 June 1505, on Friday, at the stroke of the 13th hour, I began to paint at the Palazzo. At the moment of putting down the paintbrush the weather changed for the worse, and the bell in the law-courts began to toll. The cartoon came loose. The water spilled as the jug which contained it broke. And suddenly the weather worsened, and the rain poured down till nightfall. And it was as dark as night.”

Now, this is a bit cryptic to me. He’s talking about the “cartoon,” which is a step in making a fresco. You create a full-sized drawing, poke holes along the lines, then stick it on the wall and put charcoal dust on top. When you pull it away, there’s dots that make an outline. So this part makes sense, but is he saying water came in the windows? Is he saying wind blew in so strongly that it knocked over his water jug? 

In the scheme of things, I’m not sure the “how” is relevant. What matters is this: His painting, only partially ruined, stayed on the wall for some time. Artists came to study and copy it. It’s highly praised.

As for Michelangelo, he gets summoned to Rome by the Pope. Without the competition, it’s likely he didn’t have much interest in finishing anyway. He didn’t get as far as Leonardo, but did complete a cartoon.

A copy of it by one of his students still exists. But as for the original, an artist named Bandinelli cut it up, possibly because he liked Leonardo and hated Michelangelo. Pieces got passed around, but no traces remain.

We all know what Michelangelo eventually painted for the Pope. Know what else he did? Feuded with Raphael. Because: Michelangelo.

Disguised Da Vinci

 It’s possible that Leonardo’s painting still exists. I’d even say it’s likely.

The artist Giorgio Vasari was eventually hired to paint frescos in the Hall of the Five Hundred — those are what you see today. They’re…okay. Vasari is more known for his biographies of Leonardo and Michelangelo than he is for his art. 

But you know what else Vasari was? An architect. He’s the guy who built the Uffizi in Florence, as a matter of fact — originally office space, now home to one of the most renowned museums in the world. In addition to that, he completely remodeled the Hall of the Five Hundred before painting, which included a new ceiling and new walls to help support it.

Now, Vasari is…let’s just say he doesn’t exactly hold back when he talks about how much he admires Leonardo. He basically worships the guy. In his book The Lives of the Most Excellent Painters, Sculptors, and Architects (How’s that for a title?) he devotes a number of pages to how totally amazing Leonardo was. And in those pages, he goes into a lot of detail about “The Battle of Anghiari.” I could quote the whole thing for you, but it’s so over the top you’d think I was making it up. Here’s an example:

“It would be impossible to express the inventiveness of Leonardo’s design for the soldiers’ uniforms, which he sketched in all their variety…not to mention the incredible skill he demonstrated in in the shapes and features of all the horses, which Leonardo, better than any other master, created with their boldness, muscles, and graceful beauty.”

It’s long been speculated that Vasari didn’t destroy Leonardo’s work. For a similar example, let’s look at the fresco of the Holy Trinity by an artist named Masaccio. It’s a great example of an early use of perspective. It’s what’s in the picture up above, located on a wall in Santa Maria Novella. Nearly 450 years after it was painted, it was found hidden behind the later construction of an altar and a screen. There was a small gap left, and Masaccio’s fresco was intact.

Guess who was responsible for the renovations to Santa Maria Novella? Guess who kept the fresco safe?

Giorgio Vasari.

Back in the Hall of the Five Hundred, amid the maelstrom of giant figures painted by Vasari, there’s what may be a clue. In tiny letters on a flag, only an inch high, are the words “Cerca Trova.”

“Seek, and ye shall find.”

The Quest

So there’s this guy named Maurizio Seracini. Yes, he’s Italian. How’d you guess?

Seracini is known for his analysis of art. He uses modern technology to his advantage, being able to scan pieces of art using techniques like surface-penetrating radar, ultrasound, thermographic and infrared cameras, just to name a few. He’s a bit famous for his analysis of Leonardo’s unfinished “Adoration of the Magi” painting — imagine that, Leonardo didn’t finish something? What a shock!

The Uffizi Gallery asked Seracini to use his knowledge to determine whether or not the painting could be cleaned. Through the process of his scans, he discovered that virtually none of the visible surface was painted by Leonardo. It had all been painted over, and Leonardo’s layers were beneath. This resulted in an extensive restoration, which brought many of Leonardo’s designs back to life.

Seracini has long believed the “Battle of Anghiari” is hidden behind Vasari’s fresco.

Using his technology, he was able to narrow down the possible areas where Leonardo painted. He saw ghostly outlines of the original windows and doors, which cut down his search areas. He also found old references to where it might have been in the room.

Seracini’s also the one who first spotted the tiny “Cerca Trova” lettering, and tested the paint to determine that it was put there by Vasari, and not added later.

Eventually, thanks in part to funding by National Geographic, he got permission to drill a series of small holes in Vasari’s fresco. The number of holes and their placement was greatly cut down, despite being overseen by an art restoration expert. It all turned into a bit of a media feeding frenzy, with wild accusations and hordes of cameras hovering about.

Regardless, Seracini was able to insert a tiny camera into the holes. He confirmed the existence of a second wall, with a two to three centimeter gap in front of it. He also extracted tiny samples of paint, which he says match those used by Leonardo da Vinci. Here’s a link where you can see some pictures of the work being done.

In the time since, it’s all become very political. Many were upset by the mere possibility of damaging Vasari’s work. Some have claimed “Cerca Trova” is merely a part of the scene, something that would have been on a flag at the time. Some say the type of paint found was common, and it doesn’t matter if it’s the same used on the Mona Lisa. Others have said Leonardo never started painting at all.

So let’s take a look at these claims.

Could “Cerca Trova” mean something else? Sure. It’s possible Vasari didn’t intend for it to be a clue at all, despite the fact that the other flags surrounding it have no writing on them. But regardless, I don’t think it makes any difference when it comes to whether or not the “Battle of Anghiari” is there.

Is it possible that many others used the same type of paint extracted by Seracini? Of course. But regardless, there is paint back there. And if it’s not from Leonardo, I don’t know why Vasari would’ve bothered protecting it. There wasn’t enough time between Leonardo and Vasari’s art for someone else to have put a piece of art on the wall, nor have I heard of any references to another painting.

The biggest claim is that Leonardo never actually started painting, which I find baffling. Leonardo says he did. Vasari — despite his tendency to exaggerate — says he did. Now, you could claim the copies were made from the cartoon, but that wouldn’t explain why at least one of them is in color. And there’s also the fact that old records made by Florence itself list the purchase of painting materials for Leonardo. If he hadn’t made it to that stage yet, why would they have bought them? They knew he was slow, complained about him being slow, and hired Michelangelo to get him moving. I don’t think they’d have laid out the cash unless they knew he was starting.

So here we sit. It doesn’t seem likely that any more studying will be allowed, given the reaction last time. Perhaps we’ll never know what’s back there, no matter how much I believe Leonardo’s work still exists. The only thing I truly know is that there’s no way Vasari would’ve destroyed it unless he was forced to. I’d bet everything on it. If I’m wrong, I’d even be willing to let you tell Michelangelo I was talking trash about him.