By Paul G. Chandler - August 29, 2024
Leonardo da Vinci, The Last Supper, 1494-1498, Santa Maria delle Grazie, Milan, Italy / Wikipedia
The 15th century Italian artist Leonardo da Vinci’s The Last Supper, painted between 1494 and the beginning of 1498, is considered one the most important mural painting in the world. And it has been fascinating to see the way in which it recently received renewed global attention.
If you were following the 2024 Summer Olympics held in Paris, France, you likely heard that the famous painting was the source of the most significant controversy associated with the games.
As part of the Olympic opening ceremony on July 26, 2024, one specific scene led to outrage and criticism from some religious leaders and politicians who found it “shocking,” and “a mockery of their faith tradition.” Some observers felt the 8th scene in the opening ceremony titled “Festivity,” choreographed and directed by the French theatre director Thomas Jolly, was making fun of da Vinci's The Last Supper which depicts Jesus’ last meal before his impending death. The scene in question was in effect a fashion show involving drag queens, dancers, and even a DJ.
Scene 8 of the 2024 Summer Olympics opening ceremony in Paris, France
The reaction online was almost immediate, as some religious figures condemned what they saw as offensive to their faith. The French spokesperson for the games, apologized at a news conference for “any offense” caused by the scene, and the scene’s director, Mr. Jolly, said that he had not been inspired by The Last Supper painting, but rather the scene was meant to be Dionysus, the Greek god of festivities and wine, and who is the father of Sequana, the goddess of the Seine River. “The idea was instead to have a grand pagan festival connected to the gods of Olympus, Olympism,” he said. According to him, the segment had nothing to do with referencing The Last Supper painting, but was rather drawing attention to the pagan traditions of Ancient Greece, where the Olympic Games originated.
Some art historians immediately suggested that the scene rather referenced a painting located in Dijon, France at the Musée Magnin of the gods of Olympus called “The Feast of the Gods,” by the 17th century Dutch artist Jan van Bijlert. It is a painting that shows gods crowded around a long table, with Apollo, the sun god, at the center, and a halo of light around his head.
Jan Harmensz van BIJLERT, The Feast of the Gods, 1635 - 1640
Regardless of what was said by those directly involved in the scene or by art academics seeking to explain it, the resemblance to da Vinci’s The Last Supper painting was just too much for some.
No matter what side one fell on related to this recent hullabaloo, it led to more people looking up The Last Supper than ever before, with many being introduced to it for the first time. It is truly a groundbreaking work. While numerous artists had previously painted this scene, da Vinci’s is the first version that depicts the immediate moment after Jesus breaks the news that one of those present would betray him before sunrise.
He is also the first artist, while positioning each individual present on the same side of the table, to display their emotions through facial expressions, the movements of their hands, and their body language – showing different degrees of doubt, shock, fear, anger, etc. Perhaps more than in any other of his works, da Vinci displayed what he called the “motions of the soul” through postures, gestures and expressions.
He was also the first artist to not make the identification of Judas, who would betray him in a few hours, so obvious; he didn’t for example place him apart from the disciples or alone on the opposite side of the table. Instead, while observing the emotion of each disciple in the painting, you see on Judas’ face the expression of his heart.
Da Vinci is actually attempting to reveal the core, the inner thoughts and feelings of each of the twelve at the table, as he puts in his own words, “the intention of man’s soul – his heart.” This is what he viewed as one of the highest purposes of painting – to reveal the inner heart.
Years ago, I was introduced to a wisdom saying by that ancient Middle Eastern sage named Solomon, the son of David (Sulaymān ibn Dāwūd); “Above all else, guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life.”
It is a saying that has become ever more important to me over the years. In my experience, it is during times of crises and hardships, that those who have “guarded their hearts” shine forth with gentleness, kindness, compassion, empathy, and tenderness. They exhibit an inner depth of peace and beauty that is beyond explanation and reflect a profound harmony with the spiritual dimension of life. This is something different than being religious. In fact, it has nothing to do with religion. The central figure in da Vinci’s painting, Jesus, addressed those who “honor [God] with their lips, but their hearts are far from [God].” Their exterior didn’t correspond to an inner reality.
This is humorously reflected in da Vinci’s creation of The Last Supper. Most accounts claim that he used the faces of familiar people for those he painted behind the table. It’s even said that he hung around jails, with criminals, to find an appropriate face and expression for Judas, the fourth figure from the left, who ultimately betrayed Jesus. However, he evidently struggled to find a model to reflect the expression that he desired for the Judas figure.
The story goes that the religious prior, the head of the monastery, complained to da Vinci about the project taking too long, inferring he was lazy. When da Vinci was called to the Duke to explain the delay, he responded by asking, "Do friars know how to paint?" He had at that time been searching for the right face for the character of Judas for over a year; a face which showed a necessary villainous darkness. His response to the criticism was to state that the religious prior had the perfect face for Judas and that if he was unable to find a suitable alternative, he would base Judas on him.
The real difference between people is not culture, faith tradition, language, ethnicity, etc… but rather a “matter of the heart.” The “heart” is the core or center of gravity of our very being. Our heart is our dearest possession, and it is therefore something that we should treasure above all else.
Of course, we only guard that which we view as having value. I remember my first visit to the Pushkin State Museum of Fine Arts in Moscow. I am a great admirer of the Dutch artist Vincent van Gogh’s work. I have experienced a profound spiritual chemistry with many of his paintings, and resonate deeply with much of his own spiritual journey. Two of my favorite paintings by him are in the Pushkin Museum; The Red Vineyard (1888), the only painting he sold in his lifetime, and A Road in Auvers after the Rain (1890), one of his very last paintings.
Vincent van Gogh, The Red Vineyards near Arles, 1888, Oil on canvas, 75 cm x 93 cm
In the early 1990s in Moscow, there were no security guards, room attendants or cameras in the galleries when I visited the Pushkin Museum. Finding myself all alone with these great works by van Gogh, I confess that I couldn’t resist reaching out and touching The Red Vineyard painting. It was an enrapturing experience, as I felt its texture, the thickness of the oil paint, and its roughness. I also recall feeling a little guilty. However, I remember leaving the museum thinking that the Russian government at that time didn’t appreciate the value of these works, and as a result weren’t protecting them.
Often, we don’t realize the inestimable value of our hearts. All throughout history, in most cultures, the heart has been viewed as extremely important, often representing the seat of the intellect, feelings and will. The heart was used to signify our innermost being, the very center of who we are.
I am reminded of what Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn, the 20th century Russian novelist and Nobel Prize laureate, learned about the heart. Due to his reflections on the Soviet regime, he was sentenced to eight years in the Gulag, a forced labor camp. Years later he was exiled from Russia. After being released from the prison camp, he wrote; “It was in my prison camp that for the first time I realized that the line between good and evil passes not between countries, not between political parties, not between classes, but down, straight down each separate individual heart.”
“Guarding our hearts” essentially means maintaining a deep underlying sensitivity to our Creator, even in the midst of uncertainties or shortcomings, that allows the Divine Artist to keep on creating anew upon the canvas of our lives. I am reminded of the words of the 13th century poet and Sufi mystic Rumi, “As you live Deeper in the Heart, the Mirror gets clearer and cleaner.”
For it is in the heart, the innermost recesses of our beings, that we are illumined. It is in and through the heart that we reach the destination of the spiritual journey.