The Lost Diary of Leonardo’s Paint Mixer

Venice, December, 1499 (#litres_trial_promo)

Florence, 24th April, 1500 (#litres_trial_promo)

Florence, 1501 (#litres_trial_promo)

Florence, December 1501 (#litres_trial_promo)

Rome, 1502 (#litres_trial_promo)

Imola (near Bologna), 1503 (#litres_trial_promo)

Pisa, March 1503 (#litres_trial_promo)

Florence, October 1503 (#litres_trial_promo)

Florence, November 1503 (#litres_trial_promo)

Florence, 1504 (#litres_trial_promo)

Florence, June 1505 (#litres_trial_promo)

Florence, August 1505 (#litres_trial_promo)

Florence, December 1505 (#litres_trial_promo)

Milan, May 1506 (#litres_trial_promo)

Milan, June 1506 (#litres_trial_promo)

Florence, 1508 (#litres_trial_promo)

Milan, 1508 (#litres_trial_promo)

Florence, September 1508 (#litres_trial_promo)

Florence, 1509 (#litres_trial_promo)

Milan, 1510 (#litres_trial_promo)

Milan, 1511 (#litres_trial_promo)

Milan, June 1512 (#litres_trial_promo)

Rome, December 1513 (#litres_trial_promo)

Rome, 1513 (#litres_trial_promo)

Rome, 1514 (#litres_trial_promo)

Rome, 1515 (#litres_trial_promo)

Rome, March 1516 (#litres_trial_promo)

Château de Cloux, Amboise, Northern France, April 1516 (#litres_trial_promo)

Amboise, October 1517 (#litres_trial_promo)

Amboise, May 2, 1519 (#litres_trial_promo)

Publisher’s Addendum (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)

Message to Readers (#ulink_04aa4842-1a62-532d-ad93-a82492f1b2db)

Luigi Cannelloni’s story of life among the Colourful Set in Renaissance Italy has been sniffed at by art historians ever since his tatty notebook was discovered in an antique terracotta pot used as an umbrella stand at Leonardo’s, an aptly named Italian restaurant somewhere in London.

Professor Spottafake, an eminent art historian, had the cheek to question the possibility of an early 16th century Italian manuscript turning up in a late 20th century pasta joint. After a few glasses of Chianti, he dismissed the ‘Diary’ as the drunken ramblings of someone waiting too long for an order of Spaghetti Bolognese.

But it takes an expert in more than art history to tell the difference between age spots and gravy stains, and this is where one of Leonardo’s regular customers, Alex Parsons, comes in.

Thanks to Ms Parsons, we can all now enjoy the authentic flavour of 16th century Italy, and dine out on delicious, mouth-watering tales of flaking frescos, power-crazy popes, pushy patrons and that genius who was Leonardo da Vinci.

The Verrocchio Workshop, Florence, 1470 (#ulink_fff75a2f-7d81-5173-8a2c-c1070728ed04)

Mamma mia! The work, the backbreaking work! My friend Paolo got himself apprenticed to a baker. The hours! The heat! The flour! The customers! It was a terrible warning. Me? When a job was advertised in an artists’ workshop, I pictured an easy life.

“Luigi Cannelloni,” I said to myself (because that is my name), “what a cushy number! All you’re gonna have to do is waft around looking arty, clean a few paintbrushes, help the gorgeous models off with their clothes, serve wine and cakes to the customers and sweep the place up a bit when they’ve all gone home.” How wrong can you be?

Signore Verrocchio, The Master, is my boss. He is actually the most important artist working in Florence. The trouble with him is that there isn’t any commission* (#litres_trial_promo) he’ll turn down – he’ll work for anyone.

If one of the Medici family (they’re the ruling family of Florence, so you don’t mess with them) take it into their heads to order a sculpture of a full-sized man on a horse, “No problema!” says The Master. “I’ll send the boy to pick up ten tons of bronze.”

If they want their ceilings painted with God and all his angels, “No problema! I’ll send the boy round to put up the scaffolding.”

If they want a marble statue for their uncle’s tomb, “No problema! I’ll send the boy up to the quarry to hack out half a mountain and run home with it on his back.”

We have lots of artists in this workshop, but only one genius. Even The Master admits to this. The genius’s name is Leonardo da Vinci.

He’s quite different from the other artists here. I mean obviously they can all draw and stuff like that, and they can all paint, but when Leonardo paints or draws someone, you get the feeling the figure is alive, as if the skin is warm to the touch and that you know who they are.

Take the other day. The Master’s been working on this painting of the Baptism of Christ and he wanted the figure of an angel in there, so not being particularly good at painting angels, he asked Leonardo to paint one in.

Bravissimo! Leonardo’s painting was like a real angel – so beautiful that it made the other figures look very flat and ordinary.

Surprise, surprise! The Master has announced that he will be concentrating on the sculpture side of the business, and is leaving the painted works to other artists in the group. I wonder why?

Florence, 1471 (#ulink_a408bfee-a38d-52e4-ae16-b37c0ba8ea1e)