Leonardo Da Vinci

In 1512, with Milan politically unstable, Leonardo relocated to the Villa Melzi, where he lived with his pupil Francesco Melzi and continued anatomical and geological studies. He drew architectural plans, dissected animals, and revised his Codex Leicester, but did not compile his studies into treatises. In 1513, he moved to Rome under the patronage of Pope Leo X and Giuliano de’ Medici. Housed in the Vatican’s Villa Belvedere, Leonardo investigated mirror-making, drained marshes, and performed dissections until banned, likely due to rival interference. Though surrounded by artists like Raphael and Michelangelo, he painted little. Several probable portraits from this period depict him as a venerable sage. Conflicts with assistants and increasing isolation led to frustration. As Giuliano’s influence waned, Leonardo sought new patronage. In 1515, he joined the papal entourage to Florence and Bologna, where King Francis I of France began courting him as a court artist and thinker.

In the final decade of his life, Leonardo produced a small set of spiritually resonant works centered on pointing figures, including Saint John the Baptist, a now-lost Angel of the Annunciation, and a variant painting later altered to depict Bacchus. These figures—often androgynous and sensual—gaze directly at the viewer, their gestures implying divine revelation or personal invitation. Leonardo blurred the line between the spiritual and the physical, using chiaroscuro and sfumato to infuse his subjects with mystery. Some critics found these works unorthodox or erotic, but they reveal Leonardo’s deeper fascination with human duality. His studio also produced provocative sketches, such as the Angel Incarnate, likely by Salai, which explored gender ambiguity and spiritual symbolism. The recurring motif of the pointing figure culminated in Leonardo’s poetic Pointing Lady, a final meditation on guidance, mystery, and the unknowable truths that lie beyond science or reason.

Leonardo began painting the Mona Lisa around 1503 as a portrait of Lisa del Giocondo, the wife of a Florentine silk merchant. Though commissioned, he never delivered the painting, instead keeping it with him for the rest of his life and perfecting it over many years. The work became a deeply personal synthesis of Leonardo’s interests in anatomy, optics, geology, psychology, and the patterns of nature. Layer upon translucent layer, the painting evokes emotion and mystery, most famously through Lisa’s enigmatic smile and lifelike presence. Leonardo’s study of light, muscle movement, and atmospheric effects informs every detail, from the sfumato modeling of her face to the way the landscape merges symbolically with her form. More than a portrait, the Mona Lisa is a philosophical statement—an iconic expression of Leonardo’s belief in the unity of the human body, spirit, and the cosmos.

In 1516, Leonardo accepted an invitation from King Francis I of France to join his court, marking the final chapter of his life. He relocated to the Château du Clos Lucé near Amboise, where he enjoyed a generous stipend, freedom from commissions, and the admiration of a young, intellectually curious monarch. Though his right hand had become paralyzed—possibly from a stroke—Leonardo continued to teach, sketch, and work on his notebooks. He brought with him the Mona Lisa, Saint John the Baptist, and The Virgin and Child with Saint Anne, and designed elaborate court pageants and a visionary plan for a utopian city at Romorantin. His final years also produced the haunting deluge drawings. Leonardo died in 1519 at age 67. Though surrounded by myth, his death, like his art, leaves room for mystery, awe, and a profound sense of unfinished genius.

In the concluding chapter, Isaacson argues that Leonardo was indeed a genius, not because of divine inspiration or superhuman traits, but because of his relentless curiosity, creativity, and breadth of interest. Leonardo was a polymath who embraced both science and art, fantasy and observation, leaving behind masterpieces and unfinished projects alike. Isaacson emphasizes that Leonardo’s genius was rooted in habits and attitudes anyone can emulate: careful observation, playful curiosity, interdisciplinary thinking, and a commitment to learning for its own sake. The chapter concludes with a series of practical lessons from Leonardo’s life—ranging from the value of making lists and taking notes to indulging in fantasy and refusing to fear failure. While Leonardo’s talents may be rare, his approach to life offers an inspiring model for creative living and thinking across all domains.

This short coda to the biography reflects on Leonardo’s endless curiosity, spotlighting a specific and peculiar example: his desire to “describe the tongue of the woodpecker” (691), a phrase found in one of his notebooks. Isaacson offers a factual account of the woodpecker’s remarkable tongue anatomy—its length, its wraparound skull path, and its function in cushioning the brain. The detail itself serves no practical purpose for most people, just as it likely had no immediate use for Leonardo. Yet its inclusion epitomizes Leonardo’s approach to learning: driven not by utility but by wonder. The chapter closes with an implicit invitation for readers to embrace curiosity in their own lives, no matter how seemingly odd or unproductive the question may be.