
130 The Young Leonardo
or redundant, each gesture the most compelling manifestation of an
emotion. He once wrote:
Every smallest detail has a function and must be rigor-
ously explained in functional terms that are in accord with
nature as opposed to the postulates of the ancients. Human
ingenuity – will never discover any inventions more
beautiful, more appropriate or more direct than nature,
because in her inventions nothing is lacking and nothing is
superfluous.
Just as the Munich and Benois Madonnas concerned the themes
of sight and insight, his carefully conceived Adoration of the Magi is
spatially organized according to the perceptions of the actors and their
degree of enlightenment. The three Magi, who recognize the infant
as the Savior, form a compact triangle with the Virgin and Child
on the surface, or picture plane, of the painting. Meanwhile, those
actors that have an instinctive but unspecified awareness of the child’s
divinity create a semicircle, excavating a shallow space, around the
triangle. Some appear disoriented; others seem blindly to gaze, eyes
shielded, into a bright light. The heroic figures at each corner of the
composition search for answers to explain this mysterious spiritual
presence: the older man or seer at far left, in deep contemplation,
looks within – as those around him seek his wisdom; his counterpart,
the young man at right, possessing less knowledge of the world, looks
without – beyond even the universe of the picture.
To the right of center, a man recoils, hand raised, as a young
tree miraculously springs from age-old stone, a double allusion to the
wooden cross on Golgotha and the new spiritual life on earth under
Christ, rooted in the Old Testament bedrock of the Jews. Removed
from the sacred knowledge and geometry of the lower half of the
composition, the small, combative, background figures coexist within
a discrete and mathematically generated, perspective space, unobser-
vant and wholly ignorant of the historical event before them. The
themes to which Leonardo alluded in his early Madonnas now serve,
in a brilliant summation, to integrate the entire structure and narrative
of the work.
When such a lucid articulation and equilibrium are attained in a
pictorial scheme, a painting is sometimes said to be “classical.” That is,
the work recalls, in a general sense, the consummately calm sculptures
of fifth-century (b.c.) Athens, such as Myron’s Discus Thrower or the