How to Draw Jesus in 15 Minutes or Less

My personal history with the Last Supper by Leonardo da Vinci is long and storied. I teach a freshmen seminar course at High Point University called “Blood, Defiance, and Reckless Disregard-Eight Artists Who Changed the World. It’s a fun and interesting course to deliver and frankly I had always wanted to teach a course with “blood” in the title. Before that I taught many sections of the vaunted Art Appreciation course. Combined I’ve taught these courses over 30 times.

And I always cover the Last Supper by Leonardo Da Vinci in great detail.

It’s a well of visual information that I keep returning to over and over again. Each time I see this image and show it to students I find something else that I didn’t see before. This image is an endless chain of fascination for me both intellectually and artistically.

The work itself is in miserable shape and has suffered centuries of abuse. A mere ghost of its former self. Everything that could go wrong with this fresco has gone wrong. Leonardo used the wrong preparation of the surface, an overabundance of moisture in the walls, attacks by Napoleonic soldiers. Not to mention a direct hit on the Church of Santa Maria Delle Grazie during the bombing of Milan in World War II.

In August 1943, Allied leaders bombed a number of Italian cities, including Milan. Several historic churches and buildings in the vicinity containing pieces by master artists were either destroyed or severely damaged, including the Duomo, the Castello Sforzesco, the Teatro alla Scala, and Santa Maria delle Grazie (the church that houses the Last Supper).

On August 15, a high-explosive bomb landed a mere 80 feet away from the mural. The building was virtually demolished: The roof caved in, the cloister collapsed, and entire walls were blown out. You can see from the picture how much of the church was destroyed. Afterwards the painting was exposed to the elements for nearly three years while restoration of the building took place.

For almost twelve years I had lectured about the painting to students with one deep dark secret. I had never seen it in person. I had travelled through Europe extensively and I was not able to get to Milan and get in there to see it. Part of it was Dan Brown’s fault. The Da Vinci Code was a runaway best seller and a hit movie that made it incredibly difficult to gain entry into the church-museum.

Monuments Men did a great job of recreating the look and feel of a destroyed Santa Maria delle Grazie.

I preach to the students the importance of seeing works of art in person or “in situ”. To feel their presence and really get a sense of the scale of the work can only happen when you are standing in front of a painting or sculpture. Great works have this intangible quality that needs to be savored and experienced. Reproductions in book form and digital formats cannot do it justice. To see the Last Supper in person was going to be one of many life’s pilgrimages that I wanted check off of my bucket list.

I bought my ticket months in advance since I knew I would be attending an artist’s residency in Venice for the summer of 2010. I bought my tickets through Ticket Italy. Please don’t just walk up and expect to get in. You won’t.

Due to the fragile state of the fresco you must process through a series of dehumidification chambers. This sounds downright medieval but it’s a harmless series of rooms that you must wait in for 10-15 minute intervals to “dry out”.

The space is a former monastery and the painting is housed in the former dining room for the monks. They would eat in silence much like the figures frozen in DaVinci’s painting, stunned at Christ’s revelation that he would be betrayed. Upon entry I was thrilled and almost giddy. You only get 15 minutes to stand in front of this masterpiece and absolutely no photography. The guards loom over you. After some silent gazing I whipped out my handy sketchbook and made the drawing at the top of the page.

I was hoping for some really profound writing in the upper margin but its some inane comment about fluorescent lights. Nevertheless I am pleased with my gestural rendition of the painting. I’m not one for souvenirs but this is a nice one to have.

Standing in the space with the painting I started to hear student voices in my head. Each semester I tend to get the same questions about the painting.

Why are they all sitting on one side of the table?

Which one is Judas?

Which one is the girl? Thanks Dan.

Where are the feet?

I can’t see the halos…Where are the halos?

I am in awe of the leader of the most recent restoration project Pinin Brambilla Barcilon. She labored for twenty-one years removing all of the other attempted restorations and over-paintings getting us down to what’s left of Leonardo’s original brushstrokes. I suspect no one in current history has spent so much together time with this painting. The footage I’ve seen shows her using some tiny q-tip to clean the fresco inch by inch.

Walking away I felt vindicated and inspired. I can now hold my head up in class and say that I’ve seen the painting and that I somewhat know what I am talking about.

If you are curious about the answers to the questions above here they are:

So they can see the big screen Tv.

I’m not telling but look left.

This was an all-boys club.

Yes…they cut a doorway into the painting in 1652. This was a real de-feet.

“I have never seen a halo, therefore I do not know how to paint one.” Leonardo never said that but it’s fun to type it.

Ready to go back to Italy? I am too…

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