It is probably the most overrated painting in the history of art -- the Mona Lisa by Leonardo da Vinci.
This murky portrait, hanging behind protective glass at the Louvre, draws thousands of visitors a day. It has inspired volumes of essays, research, speculation, a film and at least one song. (Thank you, Nat King Cole.) And scientists are now saying they have cracked the mystery of the painting technique -- sfumato -- which consists of thin layers of paint and glaze, reappplied dozens of times.

The scientists say they used a noninvasive technique (X-ray fluorescence spectroscopy) to study the layers and their chemical composition. That's interesting as far as technology goes, but do we really care? Why, in fact, do we care at all about this dreary portrait?
She has been identified as Lisa Gherardini, the wife of a Florentine merchant, Francesco del Giocondo. (In fact, the French and Italian names for her are La Joconde and La Gioconda; whence came our English "Mona Lisa"?) The woman is plain, with a long nose, tired eyes shifting to the side and that annoyingly wan smile. Her arms are placidly crossed over her voluminous dark garment in a matronly manner, and a dark landscape (a Leonardo trademark) rises behind her.
It's estimated that Leonardo spent four years working on it (and the signs of his sitter's fatigue are surely there!). Some serious researchers have suggested that the portrait may actually be the artist's portrait of himself, transposed as a female. What cultural chaos, if that were ever proven! Da Vinci in drag.

Meanwhile, we are left with this mad mystique. When did it all begin? Is it possible that Lisa, or her husband, hired a public relations firm? Hardly. Did an owner of the painting deliberately publicize it before putting it up for sale? Maybe. Was its notoriety enhanced after the work was stolen? Definitely. And why is another, finer portrait by Leonardo -- The Lady With an Ermine -- overlooked and overshadowed by Lisa?
That portrait, painted about fifteen years earlier, is a luminous study of Cecilia Gallerani, the mistress of Lodovico Sforza, who was Duke of Milan and Leonardo's patron. Cecilia is sixteen years old; she gently cradles an ermine (also identified as a ferret), a symbol of purity. She is wearing a gorgeous dress, her hair is exquisitely arranged, and there is no distracting landscape behind her. The colors are fresh and sparkling, and her sideways pose, with a three-quarter profile, was a dynamic innovation in portraiture.
In a way, I'm glad Cecilia does not have Lisa's fame. It would spoil her to be turned into a world-renowned symbol, a public icon. And besides, I can calculate who my true soulmates are: the art aficionados who prefer Cecilia to Lisa!
Angella Nazarian: Da Vinci's Lost Masterpiece
In this state-of-the-art treasure hunt, Professor Seracini's team uses a laser scanner to map out Palazzo Vecchio's three-dimensional blueprints with astonishing detail.
Lady with the Ermine - Leonardo DaVinci
Lady With An Ermine | Leonardo Da Vinci | Czartoryski Museum | Krakow
But personally, I think that in this essay you have swung too far in the other direction. I know it's hard, but a couple of weeks ago I tried to look with an open mind at Mona Lisa(via photos, forget the crowds at the Louvre), minus the carnival ethos, and I experienced a really, really good Renaissance painting. Of course, everyone's mileage may vary, but it is simply not fair to dismiss such a fine work of art.
It's clear that Leonardo himself valued the picture. He brought it with him, as an old man, to France. The 16th century historian Vasari already takes special note of it in his biography of Leonardo, so it wasn't just any old patch of wallpaper.
The cultish worship of Mona Lisa seems to have started among 19th century French critics and writers, and has now almost obscured and defaced the painting itself. Too bad -- if it weren't so damned famous we could probably enjoy it a lot more.
Hope you are well!
Unlike painters who came before him whose work had hard, linear qualities, Leonardo used a softly blended painting technique called shfumato to give the surface of the Mona Lisa a palpable sense of atmosphere. Using a metaphor from digital painting, it is like the difference between linear vector graphics and soft edged bitmap graphics.
Perhaps this article will at least arouse the curiosity of someone to take
the time to get to know a giant among men. For you, as a writer, the style section.
A man like Leonardo comes along every thousand years. Read and learn.
Even going back 2 thousand+ years, we've had our "tourist traps". These destination places needed a draw, something 'famous' to pull in the tourist dollar. A preserved tusk of the Caldonian Boar, the shield of Achilles, famous mural paintings of famous battles. I've consider L. Da Vinci's primary utility for much of the past 300 years had been as a tourist draw . Sort of a one man Disney World. By that token, exhibiting Mona Lisa in Paris would be equivalent to EuroDisney. Its famous and it pulls in the tourists - and there's little noteworthy beyond that.
I used both names interchangeably because he's known by both!
What would you say about Leonardo DiCaprio?!
In fact I went into the Louvre for the first time with less than an hour to spend there. I wanted to see Winged Victory and the Mona Lisa. With no guide, I walked right to it.
...that guy could really get his paint on.
Leo.
Whadda guy.
Ya know.