Confession

I was flipping through channels on my streaming device and noticed quite a few programs on the topic of Leonardo Da Vinci.  Obviously Mona Lisa garnered a lot of headlines.

I was fortunate enough to pay a personal visit to Mona Lisa at Musee du Louvre.  I must confess, I didn't see what all that hoopla was about.  I must be an ignorant smuck for failing to recognize and concur with the iconic status of this painting.  Did the painting derive its fame from tabloid gossips, artistry, or academia? Everybody wanted a selfie with Lisa.  For their Instagram accounts, I presume.

No doubt it is a great piece of artwork by one of the most famous Renaissance man, but what catapulted it to the throne of supreme art?  I was drawn in by the many docuseries on Da Vinci.  I definitely was intrigued. Tugging at me were all the fringe information about Da Vinci's family history, and whether his mother was a slave girl from the Orient.  However, what really interested me was why the Mona Lisa is so enigmatic.  I needed to know what I missed at the Louvre.  I wanted to learn about the painting itself, not so much as in who Mona Lisa was, but why the painting commanded so much attention, disregarding anything Freudian.

Soon I discovered that there were no eyebrows behind that enigmatic smile.  There were no harsh lines; all contour and light transitions on the face were feathered out, as nature intended.  The perfect lip and mouth was documented in the artist's notes, when he dissected bodies to study morphology and anatomy.  The enigmatic smile was further examined by apply a fair amount of Gaussian blur, at which point the smile turned into a big chin to chin grin.  This change is exemplified by placing the painting in our peripheral vision and moving it into focus, in the central point of our vision, hence  altering the quality of our visual acuity.. Thus the intrigue of the painting seems to be related to how it appears from different viewing angles, and that there is a scientific basis to the phenomenon.

One of these documentary segments delved with Da Vinci's brushstrokes and how he painted atmosphere; specifically how color is affected by the atmosphere as a function of physical distance.  The researchers went as far as to develop an algorithm to back date how pigment and color changed over time.  They applied their mask to digitally retrieve how Mona Lisa would have looked like on day 1.  The background of this painting assumed a different hue and feel altogether.  Now the digitally restored background wore a blue sky with mist further delineating the back row peaks from the front.

I for one, prefer the non-restored version.  It exhumes mystique, espoused by the darker tones.

But that's not the point of my dissertation.  I am trying to draw comparison to my own vivid experience with rendition of background.

When I started my painting of the Korean Maidens, I had clear intention of presenting an accurate picture of the culture, both in attire and architecture.  I even researched hanbok and chima, brought on by my search of crinoline and bustle.  Without a doubt my interest was on the two maidens.  They were the protagonists for my painting.

As the painting process continued, my autopilot disengaged itself and sought a new flight route.  I found myself steering away from the girls.  My attention was now placed on the background, the architecture itself;  especially the geometric lines.   The distraction was severe enough for me to halt my painting and re-evaluate my design.

I eventually painted a second version ( a practice I rarely subscribe to) of my Korean Maidens, with the emphasis on the geometric arrays of the building now.

I don't know if it was a conscious decision or a subconscious effort, the girls appeared smaller now in proportion to the background building.  There was no doubt what my focal interest was at.

That was the version I placed at a show.  During the course of the reception I got called out.  "You named your painting Korean Maidens, but I think you were painting the temple", said a viewer.

How astute.  She saw through me.

I proceeded to fumble for my cell phone, opened the Photo app and showed her the 2 different versions of the painting, each hinged on the different interpretations of the background.

I had surrendered my cerebral cortex to my limbic system during the course of my painting.

Unknowingly, of course. I confess.