
174 The Young Leonardo
portrayal of Mary Magdalene. Given his difficulties with complet-
ing time-bound, contractual commissions, one wonders whether he
began to consider producing such small pictures on speculation. This
was not a common practice in Florence at that time, but he was con-
cerned about an income: as we previously noted, Ser Piero had cut
off Leonardo’s “allowance” by 1480. He would not receive an inheri-
tance for some twenty-seven years – only after the death of his uncle
Francesco in 1507 and the resolution of an acrimonious lawsuit against
his seven half-brothers over the estate. A notary half-brother managed
to prevent Leonardo from receiving anything from his father, who died
intestate in 1504, but failed to keep the artist from inheriting a farm
and money from his uncle. That a possibly cash-strapped Leonardo
would consider such a speculative sales strategy is corroborated by
remarks he made later in a manuscript:
But see now the foolish folk! They have not the sense
to keep by them some specimens of their good work so
that they may say, “this is at a high price, and that is at a
moderate price and that is quite cheap,” and so show that
they have work at all prices.
Probably around 1481–82, Leonardo made two rapid, pen-and-ink
sketches (on a sheet now preserved in the Courtauld Institute Gallery,
London) of the Magdalene holding or opening a jar of unguent –
her traditional attribute, given that the Bible relates that she, among
Christ’s closest Galilean followers, anointed his feet with oil (fig. 75).
Although half-length pictures of her would become common
throughout Italy in the sixteenth century, in the Quattrocento such
representations were rare, confined almost exclusively to multipaneled
triptychs or polyptychs in which she is only one of several holy figures.
In fact, Leonardo’s idea, to present her in an independent, half-length,
“portrait” format, may be without precedent.
Although his studies are summary, one can discern that he wished
to show the Magdalene not as a haggard penitent, as Donatello had
done, but as the wealthy, promiscuous young woman turned prosti-
tute, described in the Golden Legend. His Mary wears sumptuous layers
of clothes, her hair is tousled, locks straying, and she grasps what looks
to be an elaborate and expensive jar. Her kind expression, barely indi-
cated, is that of the dulcis amica dei, the “sweet friend of God,” as the
amorously inclined Petrarch described her. Undoubtedly, the affluent