Mona Lisa : C’est le vol, imbécile ! (Was she trying to smile without betraying the gaps in her teeth, which were common in the dentally challenged early 16th century?)

http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/.a/6a00d8341c630a53ef0167617ee67a970b-600wihttps://i1.wp.com/blogs.getty.edu/iris/files/2013/03/mona_lisa_image_search.jpghttps://i2.wp.com/i.imgur.com/n6r3i4Q.jpgIl nous arriverait, si nous savions mieux analyser nos amours, de voir que souvent les femmes ne nous plaisent qu’à cause du contrepoids d’hommes à qui nous avons à les disputer (…) ce contrepoids supprimé, le charme de la femme tombe. On en a un exemple dans l’homme qui, sentant s’affaiblir son goùt pour la femme qu’il aime, applique spontanément les règles qu’il a dégagées, et pour être sûr qu’il ne cesse pas d’aimer la femme, la met dans un milieu dangereux où il faut la protéger chaque jour. Proust
L’histoire des pommes de terre a commencé il y a environ 8000 ans sur les hautes plateaux de la Cordillère des Andes, où elles poussaient à l’état sauvage. Les Incas, qui les appelaient « papas », les ont cultivées dès le XIIIè siècle. La pomme de terre a ensuite traversé l’Atlantique vers 1570, avec les conquistadores espagnols de retour des Amériques. Introduite d’abord en Espagne sous le nom de « patata », elle se diffuse timidement vers l’Italie et les états pontificaux qui la prénomme « taratouffli (petite truffe) , puis vers le sud de la France et l’Allemagne. C’est à Saint-alban d’Ay, en ardèche, que la plante produisant les tubercules de pommes de terre, aujourd’hui encore appelés « Truffoles » (du patois « las Trifòlas ») aurait été cultivée pour la première fois en Europe. Elle fait une seconde entrée en Europe au milieu du 16ème siècle, cette fois-ci par l’Angleterre où l’a ramené l’aventurier Raleigh. Et c’est d’Angleterre qu’elle partira coloniser l’Amérique du Nord. Elle est introduite en France dès le début du 16ème siècle, au sud par Olivier de Serres, sous le nom de « cartoufle » et par l’est, par Charles de l’Escluze. Si elle s’implante assez rapidement dans la plupart des pays d’Europe, grâce, si l’on peut dire à la guerre de Trente Ans qui les ravage à partir de 1618, elle est longtemps boudée en France, et réservée à l’alimentation des animaux. Et ce n’est qu’au 18ème siècle, grâce à la ténacité et l’ingéniosité d’Antoine-Augustin Parmentier, pharmacien aux armées, que ses qualités sont enfin reconnues. Parmentier avait pu apprécier les vertus nutritives de la pomme de terre pendant qu’il était en captivité en Prusse. Il les recommande donc pour résoudre le problème des famines endémiques qui ravageaient encore la France à cette époque. Il va plus loin encore en plantant des champs de pommes de terre aux alentours de Paris et en obtenant du roi qu’ils soient gardés le jour seulement par des soldats. La nuit, attirés les habitants dérobent les précieux tubercules et en assurent ainsi la publicité. CNIPT
Mona Lisa, Mona Lisa, men have named you
You’re so like the lady with the mystic smile
Is it only ’cause you’re lonely they have blamed you?
For that Mona Lisa strangeness in your smile?
Do you smile to tempt a lover, Mona Lisa?
Or is this your way to hide a broken heart?
Many dreams have been brought to your doorstep
They just lie there and they die there
Are you warm, are you real, Mona Lisa?
Or just a cold and lonely lovely work of art?
Do you smile to tempt a lover, Mona Lisa?
Or is this your way to hide a broken heart?
Many dreams have been brought to your doorstep
They just lie there and they die there
Are you warm, are you real, Mona Lisa?
Or just a cold and lonely lovely work of art?
Mona Lisa, Mona Lisa
Mona Lisa (Nat King Cole, 1968)
Se retrouver à Paris – la ville la plus visitée au monde – a été sa première « chance », bien que pas tout de suite. Pendant un demi-siècle, elle est restée accrochée au Louvre presque inaperçue. Puis au milieu du XIXe siècle, elle fut redécouverte par les écrivains français et britanniques et transformée en objet de mystère et presque de convoitise. C’était des critiques d’art du XIXe siècle et les écrivains qui devinrent obsédés par le sourire de Mona Lisa. Trop de théories au sujet de sa curieuse expression ont été avancées pour les énumérer toutes. Etait-elle enceinte et donc sereine ? Essayait de sourire sans trahir les lacunes de ses dents, qui étaient courantes dans cette époque dentalement difficile du début du XVIe siècle ? Quelle que soit l’explication, il y a quelque chose de tentante impermanent dans le sourire de la Mona Lisa. Maintenant, on le voit, et maintenant on le voit plus. Le sourire, ignoré pendant 350 ans, est pour une grande part du mystère et du succès modernes de La Joconde. Mais elle n’atteint vraiment la célébrité mondiale qu’avec son vol du Louvre par un Italien en 1911. L’événement provoqua une crise xénophobe en France, comme une sorte de mini-affaire Dreyfus. On a supposé dans un premier temps que des « étrangers » et des artites d’ « avant – garde » étaient impliqués, parce qu’ils désapprouvaient la haute culture européenne bourgeoise. Pablo Picasso, récemment arrivé d’Espagne, fut interrogé. Le poète d’origine italienne Guillaume Apollinaire fut brièvement emprisonné. Au moment où elle fut retrouvée à Milan en 1913, Mona Lisa était une star. The Independent
Comment le vol, à l’instar des fameuses pommes de terres de Parmentier, fit finalement le succès de la Joconde
.
Retour, avec un vieux mais particulièrement éclairant article de The Independent …
Sur l’oeuvre d’art la plus visitée, commentée, chantée et parodiée du monde …
Dont, avec la redécouverte il y a un an d’une de ses plus fidèles copies au Prado, on rédécouvre la beauté originale ..
Et qui dut, semble-t-il, son installation définitive en France à l’amour jaloux que lui vouait son auteur …
Et sa célébrité planétaire, non pas tant, grossesse cachée ou dents problématiques, au sourire probablement le plus mystérieux de l’histoire de l’art …
Mais au vol apparemment  que lui fit subir au début du siècle dernier le plus humble et le plus anonyme des Italiens …

The moving of the Mona Lisa

This Wednesday, amid huge fanfare, the Mona Lisa is to be unveiled in her new home in the Louvre. John Lichfield asks what makes this painting the most visited, most written about, most sung about, most parodied work of art in the world

The Independent

2 April 2005

Next week a wooden object 502 years old, inventory number 779, will be moved to a new location in the largest art museum in the world. The object is a small portrait of an obscure Florentine gentlewoman, painted on a thin panel of poplar. It is known to most of humanity – but not to France or Italy – as the Mona Lisa.

Next week a wooden object 502 years old, inventory number 779, will be moved to a new location in the largest art museum in the world. The object is a small portrait of an obscure Florentine gentlewoman, painted on a thin panel of poplar. It is known to most of humanity – but not to France or Italy – as the Mona Lisa.

On Monday, for the first time in 31 years, other than Tuesday closings and occasional strikes, the best known, the most visited, the most written about, the most sung about, the most parodied work of art in the world, will not be on public display at the Musée du Louvre in Paris. On Wednesday at 2pm, amid great fanfare, she will reappear in a new, permanent home, better suited to her ceaseless, jostling crowds of admirers.

Contrary to initial reports, the Mona Lisa will not acquire every girl’s heart’s desire – a room of her own. The small painting – 77cm by 55cm (2ft 6in by 1ft 10in) – will hang alone on an enormous false wall, or screen, in a gallery full of other Italian paintings.

Leonardo da Vinci’s masterpiece (one of the few paintings he finished) will be placed, once again, behind glass to protect her maddening smile from thieves, bullets, explosives, knives, spray cans and ballpoint pens. She will, however, no longer lurk in a gloomy hallway. She will stare her slightly cross-eyed, gently supercilious grin from just behind the armoured glass of a purpose-built « safe » sunk into the wall. Her pleasant features, her folded hands and the weird, blasted landscape behind her will be bathed in natural and artificial light in a room remodelled with a €4.8m (£3.3m) donation from the Japanese television network, NTV.

After 500 years, the Mona Lisa is in desperate need of cleaning. If she were any other painting, the Louvre would probably have taken the opportunity to remove the patina of half a millennium, and the darkening of an early misguided restoration, before displaying her in her new home.

With the Mona Lisa, cleaning is out of the question. She must remain precisely like the image of her implanted in the world’s eye by countless reproductions, spoofs, pastiches and advertisements. And from Wednesday, Mona Lisa’s admirers – an average of 1,500 people an hour – will be able to take a close look at her, grime and all, for the first time since she was placed behind glass 31 years ago.

There are 6,000 paintings in the Louvre. Ninety per cent of the museum’s visitors make a beeline to the Mona Lisa. Most seem to spend no more than three minutes gazing at her. Many have their photo taken (breaking a rule which is rarely enforced). Then they leave. Some appear to go away disappointed. The most frequent comment is: « Isn’t she small? » Mona Lisa has become a box to be ticked on the Paris tourist itinerary, alongside the Eiffel Tower and Notre Dame cathedral. She is a painting-superstar, a celeb, an icon, a spelling mistake.

Her name should really be Monna Lisa, abbreviation of Madonna Lisa or « my lady Lisa ». The French call her  » La Joconde », a pun on « amused woman » and the married name of Leonardo’s presumed sitter, Lisa del Giocondo, née Gherardini.

Many theories have been advanced about who she « really » was, ranging from aristocrats and harlots to Leonardo da Vinci’s mother and even a self-portrait of Leonardo in drag. (Further scientific « proof » of the cross-dressing self-portrait theory has recently been offered by American computer studies. The idea is not taken seriously by art historians.)

Why has this, of all paintings, become so famous? The Louvre is stuffed with wonderful paintings. Why do so many people throng to see this small, dark portrait of a grinning woman with no eyebrows? Is the Mona Lisa truly a transcendentally magnificent work of art? Or is she just famous because she is famous?

In a marvellous book, published in 2001, the British historian, Donald Sassoon, traced the origins of the Mona Lisa mystique through five centuries ( Mona Lisa: The History of the World’s Most Famous Painting, Harper Collins paperback, £8.99). He concluded that there was something special about the painting itself. The pose and technique were regarded as revolutionary by contemporaries of Leonardo, including Michelangelo.

The brushstrokes are so fine – piled layer upon layer in a method called sfumato (smoky) pioneered by Leonardo – that they cannot be individually identified even under a microscope. The Lady Lisa’s pose, turning slightly towards and looking at the viewer with no intervening barrier, was unorthodox in the early 1500s – and much copied. All the same, the beauty of the painting alone cannot explain Mona Lisa’s fame, says Professor Sassoon.

Her status as « the one painting everyone knows » is, he says, the « product of a long history of political and geographical accident, fantasies conjured up, connections made, images manufactured, and luck. » The painting appears to have been started in 1503. For reasons unknown, Leonardo did not hand the work over to Lisa Gherardini’s husband, as originally commissioned. He took it with him when he was invited to the court of the French king, François I in 1516. In other words, Leonardo ran away with another man’s wife – or at least her image. After the artist’s death in France in 1519, the painting was bought by the king, entered the royal collection and then the state collection after the Revolution in 1789. She was displayed in the Empress Josephine’s bedroom during Napoleon’s reign and then placed in the Louvre.

Ending up in Paris – the most visited city in the world – was her first piece of « luck », although not at first. For half a century, she hung in the Louvre almost unnoticed. In the mid 19th century, she was rediscovered by British and French writers and turned into an object of mystery and almost an object of lust.

In 1869, the British art critic Walter Pater, in an influential passage later made into poetry by W B Yeats, promoted the Mona Lisa as a kind of elemental mother-temptress, madonna-femme fatale, uniting the age old male fantasies and myths of womanhood. « She is older than the rocks among which she sits; like the vampire she has been dead many times, and learned the secrets of the grave; and has been a diver in deep seas, and keeps their fallen day about her; and trafficked for strange webs with Eastern merchants; and, as Leda, was the mother of Helen of Troy, and, as Saint Anne, the mother of Mary… »

It was 19th-century art critics and writers who first became obsessed with Mona Lisa’s smile. Too many theories about her curious expression have been put forward to list them all. Was she pregnant and therefore serene? Was she trying to smile without betraying the gaps in her teeth, which were common in the dentally challenged early 16th century? Whatever the explanation, there is something tantalisingly impermanent about the Mona Lisa’s smile. Now you see it and now you don’t. The smile, ignored for 350 years, is a large part of La Joconde’s modern mystery and success.

So is her lack of eyebrows. Shaved brows may have been a 16th-century Florentine fashion. Alternatively they may have been removed by a clumsy restoration. Mistake, or not, the absence of eyebrows helps to give Mona Lisa her enigmatic expression. Draw on some eyebrows (on a photograph) and she becomes rather forbidding. Another piece of luck, maybe.

She was not a worldwide celebrity, however, until she was stolen from the Louvre by an Italian in 1911. The event provoked a xenophobic crisis in France, like a mini-Dreyfus affair. It was assumed at first that « foreign » and « avant -garde » artists were involved because they disapproved of bourgeois-approved, European high culture. Pablo Picasso, recently arrived from Spain, was interrogated. The Italian-born poet Guillaume Apollinaire was briefly imprisoned. By the time that she was recovered in Milan in 1913, Mona Lisa was a star.

In the 1960s and 1970s, she became a diplomat. She was loaned to the US by President Charles de Gaulle in an attempt to improve Franco-American relations. In 1974, she travelled to Japan and the Soviet Union. There was briefly a plan to loan her to London to celebrate Britain’s entry to the EEC in 1973. Nothing came of it. Could Euro-scepticism have been cured for ever by Mona Lisa’s smile? In the late 20th century, she became a canvas upon which contemporary artists, admen and comedians doodled. Already in 1919, the surrealist artist Marcel Duchamp had protested against the museumification of art – and made a name for himself – by producing a version of the Mona Lisa with a moustache and a goatee beard. He called his work LHOOQ, an early form of text message which reads aloud in French as  » elle a chaud au cul » (she has a hot bum).

This was followed by Andy Warhol’s multiple Mona Lisas, like strips of passport photos, Thirty are Better than One (1963); a Mona Lisa dressed as Mao, Mona Tse Tung by Roman Cieslewicz (1976); naked Mona Lisas; pregnant Mona Lisas; a Mona Lisa made out of toast; Mona Lisas as Jackie Kennedy or Monica Lewinsky; Monty Python’s animated Mona Lisa and a disturbingly convincing drawing by the British cartoonist Steve Best in 1992. The cartoon’s caption was: « Mona was trying not to smile as she waited for her silent fart to reach Leonardo. »

The image of the Mona Lisa has also been hijacked to advertise everything from condoms to horsehair corsets, from oranges to inter-uterine devices. There have been references to her in pop songs from Cole Porter: « You’re the Nile, You’re the Tower of Pisa; You’re the smile on the Mona Lisa »; from Nat King Cole: « Are you warm, are you real, Mona Lisa? Or just a cold and lonely, lovely work of art? »; and several appearances in the oeuvre of Elton John.

Such over-exposure has inevitably cheapened the Mona Lisa as a work of art. It has become difficult to look at the painting and separate it from the layers of pastiche and mockery and exploitation. On the other hand, the more Mona Lisa is exploited, mocked or ripped off, the greater her mystique and popularity becomes.

Professor Sassoon believes that this is a positive thing: a refreshing proof that popular culture and high culture can overlap. « It demonstrates that something can be both a classic of Western art and pop, hip and cool. »

The Louvre, reading between the brushstrokes, is not so sure. The Mona Lisa is a terrific money-spinner. The Louvre gift shop sells more than 330,000 pieces of Jocondarama each year. But there is, one detects, something of an unease in the museum about sheltering a kitsch tourist attraction which is also a great work of art.

Officially, the Louvre now says that it never intended to give the Mona Lisa a room of her own. Museum officials say that they spoke four years ago of giving La Joconde a « space » of her own. Many interpreted that as meaning a « room ». In fact what was meant, the museum says, was a wall. Hmmm.

There have been reports of a struggle of principle within the Louvre on what to do with NTV’s donation. Some officials thought that the only way to manage the crowds was to put the Mona Lisa into solitary confinement.

Others thought that this would betray the museum’s wider purpose – to educate the public on great art. They insisted that the Mona Lisa should be shown in context. The educators appear to have won the day over the tour operators.

When the Salle des Etats reopens to the public on Wednesday, the tiny Mona Lisa will face the gigantic painting of the Wedding at Cana by Veronesi (Venice, 16th century). In the same room, there will be 50 other 16th- century Venetian paintings, including Titians and Tintorettos. Far from having a room of her own, Mona Lisa will be in a dormitory of great, Italian art. The Louvre presumably hopes to persuade more of its visitors to look beyond the Mona Lisa and enjoy the rest of the riches that the museum has to offer.

Many visitors already do. But not all. On a brief observation this week, at least one in two of the celebrants of the Mona Lisa cult turned on their heel and walked straight out to the tour buses.

Voir encore:

Happy families: Mona Lisa and her prehistoric ancestor

The world’s oldest known portrait, the ‘Ice Age Mona Lisa’, is currently on show at the British Museum – and the parallels with Da Vinci’s masterpiece are fascinating, says Alastair Smart

Alastair Smart

The Telegraph

17 Feb 2013

Analysed, lionised, romanticised, satirised, mythologised, canonised, commercialised. The Mona Lisa is the most famous painting in the world by far, yet – even after 500 years – still she remains unknowable. Much of her fame, indeed, rests on her alluring inscrutability. “She’s older than the rocks among which she sits,” raved the Victorian aesthete, Walter Pater. “Like the vampire, she’s been dead many times and learned the secrets of the grave.”

Much of her mystery stems from that smile, which seems to come and go at will and has been interpreted endlessly and variously over the centuries. In recent years, clinical anatomists at Yale have explained it as the glow of early pregnancy; Dutch scientists, in turn, have applied “emotion recognition” computer software and revealed it to be 83% happy, 9% disgusted, 6% fearful and 2% angry.

It’s been mooted, too, that Leonardo’s sitter – Lisa Gherardini, the wife of a Florentine silk merchant – suffered from Bell’s Palsy, a facial paralysis causing muscle contraction around the corners of the mouth. Last year, art sleuths in Florence even dug up what they believe to be Gherardini’s skull from an old Franciscan convent, in the hope lab analysis will reveal the secret to the famous smile.

The truth is, of course, that Leonardo spent a good 15 years working and reworking the painting, and its secrets reside in his artistic genius not the remains of a long-dead signora. Yet, the suggestion of palsy does make for an interesting parallel with one of the stand-out works in the British Museum’s new Ice Age exhibition: a 26,000-year-old head, sculpted from mammoth ivory, found in the Moravian Gate region of the Czech Republic. The oldest known portrait in the world, it depicts a woman with highly individualised features who’s been dubbed by archaeologists the “Ice Age Mona Lisa”.

Why the nickname? In part, because this is the portrait of a female subject whose identity is unknown. Five years ago, a Florentine book from 1503 was found in Heidelberg University Library with a note inside saying Leonardo was at work on a portrait of Lisa Gherardini. This discovery seemed, at last, to confirm who the Mona Lisa really was – though, before that, speculation had been rife, including the Da Vinci Code notion of a da Vinci self-portrait.

The Ice Age sculpture boasts a skewed smile (another reason for the Mona Lisa sobriquet) and deformed left eye. The latter is disproportionately large and has a heavily dropping lid, quite possibly – like the smile – a result of palsy or a stroke. Was the image, then, intended to cure its subject? To ward off her evil curse? Or a singling out for artistic treatment of someone, within a shamanic belief system, deemed to embody special powers because of her disability?

Other distinctive features include a dimpled chin and a line carved across her forehead, marking the boundary between hair and face. For those looking for further parallels with the Leonardo, the line recalls that across the Mona Lisa’s own forehead: the edge of the transparent veil she wears over her hair.

Commissioned by Lisa’s husband Francesco, at the turn of the 16th century, the Mona Lisa was, in fact, never delivered: the portrait became Leonardo’s long-term companion and personal plaything, travelling with him wherever he went, even to his final home in France in 1516, regularly being retouched and rethought over time.

In many ways, the Mona Lisa is a musing on the passage of time. The lady’s almost-smile is forever in the instant of becoming an actual smile; the diurnal light of evening falls evocatively on her face; and the aeons of geology are caught in the rock- and mountain-forms in the distance behind her.

Talking of time: the follow-up fame that our two works have attained – long after their creation – is as interesting as any physical similarity between them. Though always celebrated, and singled out for praise in Giorgio Vasari’s Leonardo biography of 1550, the Mona Lisa only became truly iconic courtesy of the French romantics in the 19th century.

Through her, they indulged their morbid fantasies for the femme fatale. “She attracts me, revolts me, consumes me,” wrote Jules Michelet. “I go to her in spite of myself, like the bird to the snake”. The painting’s fame has been secure ever since, helped by its high-profile theft from the Louvre in 1911 and moustachioed parody by Duchamp in 1919.

As for Mona’s Ice Age ancestor, quite incredibly her afterlife began after a gap of myriad millennia, during excavations at the Moravian site of Dolní Věstonice in the 1930s. The ivory sculptures, ceramic figurines and other finds there prompted the Illustrated London News to proclaim “a Palaeolithic Pompeii”. Yet, after Moravia was declared a German protectorate in 1939, the works at Dolní turned into objects of Nazi propaganda – the Ice Age Mona Lisa, in particular.

Earlier sculpture had tended towards the abstract, without defined facial features, and great claims were now made for the supremacy of Indo-Germans. For, they had been the sophisticates who’d created works of unprecedented detail, individuality and carving technique. A “pre-historic, proto-Aryan da Vinci” was hailed on thoroughly racial grounds.

In their different ways, the world’s oldest portrait and the world’s most famous one were always more than just art-works. Yet, over time, they’ve become so very much more: celebrities in their own right and receptacles for the hopes, fears and prejudices of different societies and generations.

Lisa Gherardini might have been amused by her achievement of global pop-icon status; but her prehistoric predecessor, in context of appropriation by the Nazis, would surely have had rather less to smile about.

‘Ice Age Art: Arrival of the Modern Mind’, to May 26

Voir enfin:

Earliest known copy of the ‘Mona Lisa’ (re-)discovered in Spain

LA Times

February 1, 2012

REPORTING FROM MADRID — Spanish art curators have discovered a secret the « Mona Lisa » kept behind that enigmatic smile: a long-lost twin.

Madrid’s renowned Prado Museum unveiled on Wednesday what its curators believe is the oldest copy of Leonardo da Vinci’s « Mona Lisa, » painted around the same time and possibly in the same room as the original masterpiece.

« It is as if we were in the same studio, standing next to the easel, » Gabriele Finaldi, the Prado’s deputy director of collections, told reporters.

The so-called « Mona Lisa of the Prado » has long been in the museum’s collection, tucked away in its vaults and displayed only occasionally, its significance not fully understood. Not until restorers lifted off an 18th-century coat of black paint obscuring the background did curators realize the painting was much older than that — with a backdrop of Tuscan hills similar to the one in the original, which hangs in the Louvre in Paris.

« This is very, very close to how the « Mona Lisa » looked in 1505, » when Leonardo finished his masterpiece, Finaldi said. There are dozens of other copies, he said, but none has been dated as close to the original.

X-ray tests also revealed that smudges and changes made in the Prado version correspond with changes Leonardo made on his canvas. Museum officials said the copy is probably the work of Francesco Melzi, an apprentice of Leonardo’s, who may literally have been standing next to his master while replicating his every brush stroke.

The Prado plans to display its find this month before sending it to Paris to hang side by side with the original, at a Leonardo exhibit in March.

« Our colleagues at the Louvre now have a whole lot more information they can use in their research on their own painting, » Finaldi said.

The « Mona Lisa » is believed to be a portrait of Lisa Gherardini, the wife of a wealthy cloth merchant, Francesco del Giocondo, who lived in Florence around the start of the 16th century.

The Prado’s Mona Lisa looks fresh-faced and younger than the original, an effect Finaldi attributed to the fact that it has not been continuously displayed, and it lacks a graying varnish. The other major difference between the Spanish Mona Lisa and the one in Paris is eyebrows: The original figure has none.

Perhaps some mysteries still remain behind that enigmatic smile.

– See more at: http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/world_now/2012/02/earliest-known-copy-of-the-mona-lisa-re-discovered-in-spain.html#sthash.LVGfMf0p.dpuf

2 commentaires pour Mona Lisa : C’est le vol, imbécile ! (Was she trying to smile without betraying the gaps in her teeth, which were common in the dentally challenged early 16th century?)

  1. […] problématique, au sourire probablement le plus mystérieux de l’histoire de l’art … Mais au vol apparemment  que lui fit subir au début du siècle dernier le plus humble et le plus anonyme des […]

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  2. Eldon Terry dit :

    The reserve area, which was likely to have been as much as 20 mm originally appears to have been trimmed at some point probably to fit a frame (we know that in the 1906 framing it was the frame itself which was trimmed, not the picture, so it must have been earlier), however at no point has any of Leonardo’s actual paint been trimmed. Therefore the columns in early copies must be inventions of those artists, or copies of another (unknown) studio version of Mona Lisa.

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