The Mona Lisa is instantly recognizable by the crowd of people standing before it, most of them taking photos. It’s in a large hall with lots of other paintings, most of which aren’t very interesting to me, but one of which is.
It’s a self-portrait by Tintoretto. He looks thoughtful, even sad, and directs his gaze straight into the viewer’s eyes. He isn’t getting a lot of attention. As with every other painting in this room, most visitors have their backs to this one, as they strain to see the celebrity nearby.
On the other hand, even when one is looking right at the Mona Lisa, it’s hard to see it. It’s a gorgeous painting–did Leonardo paint any other kind? But there are so many layers of marketing, jokes, pop culture, parody, etc. making a thick veil of familiarity between us and her. Simply encountering the painting face to face is impossible. So maybe Tintoretto’s sadness is not for himself, but for her and her creator. Or even for us.
Sermons in Stones 
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June 21, 2018 at 3:46 pm
javsimson
Luckily, I was able to see the Mona Lisa (and many, many other marvelous paintings) at the Louvre when I was a student in Paris in 1956 – ’57. The crowds were much thinner, then. At the time, I really came to enjoy the art of pre-renaissance painters like Fra Angelico and Botticelli. These days, seeing the painting of the Mona Lisa (which is pretty small) is much like going to see/hear a pop star in a crowded and noisy venu. It has nothing to do with aesthetic experience and everything to do with following a fad.
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June 21, 2018 at 8:41 pm
David Zucker
How true, to my own experience, though there were not as many people as in yr photo. It is magnificent anyway. I remember the Tintoretto. Joins with the sad reflections of the Rembrandt self portraits,
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