I have just read his latest book, Life of Leonardo. I liked it, and I was interested in it. It is a work recommended for anyone curious about the life of this unique Florentine artist and philosopher. In it I have found abundant information, sometimes unpublished, which is to be appreciated. However, it seems clear to me that you have adopted an extremely conservative stance, which goes even beyond the academicism and orthodoxy prevailing at the moment. So much so that the character, Leonardo, has come out flat, without substance, superficial, perhaps because you have not wanted to delve into the motivations that inspired him. That is why I maintain that you have adopted a wrong point of view, and a cowardly attitude.

I'll explain. It is understandable that, when we have no proof of a fact, we simply leave it aside. An example: to dismiss the mystery of the landscape of the Mona Lisa, you say that it is a product of his imagination (perhaps inspired by well-known places in his environment). But there are other possibilities: perhaps it is not imaginary, but the "collage" of a "lived" landscape. We can discuss whether it is Italian, or as I say, Catalan; but it is a not insignificant issue that at least deserves a comment, without this implying the adoption of a certain position. Another example: in the Mona Lisa there are a series of hidden letters and cryptograms, discovered by the researcher Silvano Vinceti, which being tangible and real you have simply ignored. In this article I will show you that these cryptograms are a good clue to know the motivations that inspired Leonardo, in his life and in his career. Instead, you have adopted a somewhat sentimental discourse, as if the fact that his mother had been a slave – and Circassian – if she was, would determine his entire life. And on the other hand, you have disdained the influence that his grandfather Antonio could have exerted on Leonardo, in whose house he lived during his childhood and early adolescence. From my point of view, this has made you miss the mark in the plot line of the work.

I know that you know my work, and the main thesis that inspires my books on Leonardo. You and I participated in a documentary produced by TV3 (Televisió de Catalunya), which dealt precisely with some aspects of my theory:

https://www.3cat.cat/tv3/ficcio-i-cinema/desmuntant-leonardo/noticia/2834732/

I was not satisfied with this documentary, for reasons that are irrelevant now. I don't think you either. But by this fact alone I take it for granted that you have ignored my theories, which you know well; and that you will most likely read this article. To make it easier for you, I will translate it into English. I would like to know your opinion about it. Let it be clear that I give your views special attention. I liked your first biography of Leonardo very much, even more than the current version. I think it was braver and more daring. That is why I do not understand why you have ignored the evidence that both Mr. Vinceti and I have provided, in the development of Leonardian studies. I hope that this commentary-criticism makes you reflect, and that you say in public what you undoubtedly think in private: that not everything has been said about Leonardo.

Caterina

I will begin my dissertation here. One of the pillars of your work, which in your opinion largely determines Leonardo's future, is his mother's extremely humble and exotic origins, as well as his non "regularization" from his condition as a natural son (bastard) by his father (being excluded from the inheritance). It is true that the fact that Leonardo was the result of a slip of his father, Piero, with a former Circassian slave whom he would have freed, Caterina, as well as the latter's marriage of convenience with a somewhat turbulent laborer (Accatabriga di Piero del Vacca), would undoubtedly have influenced his character; but it is also true that Leonardo was taken in by his grandfather Antonio, Piero's father, for many years. So his childhood, between a mother who undoubtedly loved him, and a grandfather who took care of him, in a rural environment, would not have been unhappy, but surely quite the opposite. On the other hand, until his father had his first "legitimate" son (Antonio), once in Florence, he gave him a careful education; first in the field of notary, and later in Verrocchio's workshop, which he paid for.

As for Caterina, his mother, you identify her with a Circassian slave freed by Piero, his father (page 36), the same year Leonardo was born (1452). In response to the comment, which we find in the so-called Anonimo Gaddiano, according to which Leonardo was born, on his mother's side, "of good blood", you argue that "a young Circassian slave is worth a lot because she is healthy, tall, muscular, strong, of good blood, a perfect reproductive machine..." (page 38). I have to say that in Spain "of good blood" means "born of a family of means, noble or wealthy". This expression is not used to indicate that a girl is a "healthy reproductive machine", as you seem to indicate here. But in the end, I do not doubt that Caterina, Leonardo's mother, could be the Circassian slave freed by Piero, her father, to whom you allude. Although I have to say that many years ago, specifically, in 2008, the writer Luis Racionero (who was director of the National Library of Madrid between 2001 and 2004, who knew Leonardo's life very well, having written a biography about him, and who had in his custody the Madrid I and II Codices), told me that Leonardo was the son of a Jewish slave: Caterina. I don't know what his source was, but I'll leave it there.

(By the way, Luis Racionero signed a copy of his biography of Leonardo with the following dedication: "Per a José Luis Espejo, agraint-li aquesta idea espectacular sobre en Leonardo. Cordialment, Lluís Racionero. 7 Juny 2008". Two years later, in 2010, he wrote the prologue to my book El viaje secreto de Leonardo da Vinci.)

You give special relevance to the exotic – Circassian – origin of his mother Caterina, in order to explain his love for Nature, which Leonardo turned into an obsession (hence his studies on geology, anatomy and medicine, cosmology, bird flight, mechanics, mathematics, etc.). Thus, you consider that the smile of the Mona Lisa is that of Catherine (page 561), that the "immaculate" mother of the Virgin of the Rocks is also her own mother (page 153), and that the Giovannina who supplants John the Evangelist at the Last Supper is likewise her progenitor (page 274; Codex Forster II, f. 3r.). All that said, it is good to recognize that the Evangelist is indeed a woman, as I did at the time, more than ten years ago (in 2014). See here:

José Luis Espejo - The Androgynous Saint John and the Pregnant Magdalene (and Leonardo)

I would like to point out one more thing. Perhaps Leonardo was influenced not by one, but by two Caterinas. The first, his mother, would have died, supposedly, as you say, in his workshop in Milan, in 1494 (page 255). And I say "supposedly" for several reasons: 1) That Caterina receives remuneration from Leonardo, perhaps for services rendered ("to Caterina, 10 soldi", twice; J.P. Richter, note 1517); and 2) according to Jean Paul Richter, Caterina (his mother) would have died in 1519, the same year as her son (J.P. Richter, note 1372). Moreover, according to this author, Leonardo would have sent her a letter, dated July 5, 1507 (note 1559), although there are doubts about its addressee. Richter adds the following: "Leonardo never mentions her in his manuscripts."

But let's suppose you are right, and his mother Caterina died in Leonardo's workshop in Milan in 1494. Who is the second Caterina I referred to above? Later, when I comment on the landscape of the Mona Lisa, I will mention that the lands around Martorell (province of Barcelona), which I maintain are the setting for this work, belonged to a woman named Caterina Vilar. About it I say, in a work not yet published:

In the section "Some considerations", at the end of my fictionalized biography of Leonardo (Memorias de Leonardo da Vinci, published by Editorial Base), I allude to the intriguing possibility that Battista de Vilanis, beneficiary – together with Salai – of a good part of Leonardo's estate in Milan, could actually be the son of Leonardo and Caterina Vilar. originally from Sant Andreu de la Barca, a town near Martorell. It is not in vain that this Caterina, usufructuary of some land in the demarcation known as El Palau, disappeared from the Catalan archives shortly before the 1490s. His son, Joan, inherited her lands, of which he was dispossessed years later (in 1496 he is considered "poor and miserable"; the ownership of the lands of the Palau then passed into the hands of a certain Bartomeu Pedrís) ...

Let's go back to Leonardo's Testament. Here two people who could be strongly linked to him are mentioned: on the one hand Maturina (his cook), whose strange name allows us to think, again, of Caterina (Vilar, although in "mature" age); and on the other hand, to Battista de Vilanis, who receives the lion's share of the inheritance: half of Leonardo's property behind the walls of Milan, the rents from the Canal of Santo Cristoforo in Milan, as well as the furniture and utensils of Cloux's mansion in Amboise. Note that the name of Battista de Vilanis ... it could be the Latinization of Vilar, surname of Caterina Vilar from Martorell. Moreover, we can come to think that Vilanis was actually Vilaris, since in the French Gothic script of the fifteenth century the "r", together with the "i", changes shape, being confused with an "n".

Thus, Battista de Vilanis could actually be Battista de Vilaris. Is he Caterina Vilar's son? Is it for this reason that he cedes half of the inheritance to him, to the detriment of his disciple Salai? It is important to note that Caterina arrived at Leonardo's workshop in July 1493, less than a year after the expulsion of the Jews in Spain (which took place in August 1492). Was she Jewish? ... Unfortunately, this is something that we will not be able to confirm, because – as often happens when the figure of Leonardo is studied – we have lost the original of his will.

Thus, Caterina Vilar, the second Caterina who could have influenced Leonardo's life and work, could be the mother of Juan (Bautista) Vilar, who -supposedly- would have been Leonardo's servant and would have received, together with Salai, half of his income and properties. This would explain why Leonardo had been so closely linked to Battista de Vilanis (or Vilaris), who receives a very significant portion of his inheritance. This would only make sense if such a Battista were his son, or that of his lover Caterina (I think that the Juan Vilar who lost the lands of the Palau in 1496 would be someone else; Battista would perhaps be the son of the said Caterina Vilar and Leonardo). But as in the case of the slave and Circassian Catherina, Mr. Vecce, my peasant and Catalan Caterina is still a conjecture. Although empirically based.

Antonio

In my homeland, the link between Leonardo's grandfather, Antonio, and the city of Barcelona, which you have mentioned in your work, has caused a great sensation. I already talked about it in an article published in 2019:

José Luis Espejo - The Da Vinci House in Barcelona

About Antonio you write the following (page 22):

For almost fifteen years [Antonio] was involved in the transactions of his cousin [Frosino], specializing in the purchase and sale of spices and raw materials necessary for the activity that constituted the center of economic power in Florence and Tuscany, the textile industry. He sailed between Barcelona, Valencia, Mallorca and Morocco, braving the dangers of storms and pirates, entered the caravan routes to Fez, capital of the sultanate, and sent detailed commercial letters from Moroccan ports. Later his activity was concentrated in Barcelona, together with Frosino, in the collection of taxes from Florentine merchants in the name of King Martin the Humane.

In the letters of his cousin Frosino even the name of one of his wives, Violante, appears. Then, at a certain point, we don't know why, Antonio left everything and returned to Tuscany. Alone. At more than forty years old, without patrimony, without profession or registration in the guilds, he had to start again from scratch.

Thus, Leonardo's grandfather, Antonio, spent at least half of his active life, until he was over forty, trading, living and doing business in Barcelona. This undoubtedly left a mark on him, as evidenced by the fact that his eldest son, Piero, was named Piero Frosino, in memory of his Tuscan-Catalan adventurer cousin (he wrote at least four letters in Catalan, preserved in the Datini archive in Prato; letters that I have been able to consult online).

I wonder: if Antonio, his grandfather, organized his baptism (which was attended by his own friends), made the baptismal record in a notarial book of his father (Piero di ser Guido), and welcomed him into his own house during his childhood and early youth (page 24), would he not have influenced Leonardo's life and character to the same or greater extent than his natural mother, Caterina? As we will see later, Leonardo was in prison (first for sodomy, in 1476, and later for heresy, in 1480-81) on two occasions. Would he, in those moments of difficulty, not have sought refuge in the house of his relatives in Barcelona, which he would have known so well through references from his grandfather? Is it so extraordinary that he went to Barcelona to let the waters calm down, in such moments of trouble, or simply to look for new opportunities, when things were going so badly for him in his own country?

It is curious, and even outrageous, that when you describe the coat of arms of Piero da Vinci in the Badia Florentina you write this: "The tomb - now disappeared in the various reforms of the church - was covered by a simple rectangular stone slab, 2.75 meters long by one and a half meters wide, with a round marble lid and the family coat of arms composed of 'yellow 4 and red 3 ribbons', perhaps an inlay of red marble and gilded bronze" (page 99).

(I have to say that it was precisely the biography that Luis Racionero made about Leonardo that put me on the track of this emblem, when he states: "there remains, from his time, [in Anchiano's house] more than a curious stone emblem attached to a wall in which a lion appears and – even more curious – a shield with four bars". Three actually: a variant of the coat of arms of the Crown of Aragon, or of the House of Barcelona; since it can be called in both ways.)

It is insulting for a Catalan that a foreigner describes this shield as follows: "yellow ribbons four and red three". From my point of view, this is a new example of "ignoring", because as it is said "the greatest contempt is not appreciating". Mr. Vecce, if you do not want to recognize that this coat of arms is a variant of that of the House of Barcelona, or of the Crown of Aragon (identical to that existing in the County of Foix, or in the Kingdom of Mallorca), you could say that it resembled the coat of arms of Provence, or that of Ambois (in Touraine), or the papal gonfalon, or that of Burgundy. It could even be a derivation of the French "oriflama". In this regard, I invite you to read the following article:

José Luis Espejo - The Da Vinci coat of arms

Be that as it may, everything seems legitimate to make the influence that Catalonia-Aragon, through his grandfather Antonio, may have exerted on Leonardo disappear. To make him descended from Circassians (in the Caucasus) is cool. But, not to relating him to Catalonia! I don't know if this is so, but if it is not, it seems so.

The art of hiding reality

Mr Vecce, I find it disappointing that you have mentioned a number of obvious things - as they are obvious - without alluding to their true significance. Let's start with Leonardo's first great work: his Annunciation, dated between 1472 and 1475. You very rightly state that the focal point is the great mountain, which you explicitly call the "sacred mountain" (page 81). As you well know, next to it there is another mountain, smaller, which seems to be a repetition of the one in the Mona Lisa. It has a cave, to which you may also allude in the description of the cavern and the sea monster, around the year 1482 (page 130). You also mention the existence of a port city (which I identify with Barcelona). Of course, once again, you considere that this landscape could correspond to the original homeland of Leonardo’s mother Caterina, not to the place of adoption of the Da Vinci of Barcelona: "For Leonardo, that mountain and that city evoke something else, a tear in time and space: the fabulous world of his mother Caterina, the sacred mountain of the Caucasus...". Again Caterina. And why not evoke Barcelona, during his passage through this city around the year 1482, fleeing from the persecution of the Church? It is true that his first trip to Barcelona would take place at least seven years after the completion of this work, but it is no less true that the Annunciation underwent several retouches and "pentimenti", as Angela Ottino Della Chiesa or Frank Zöllner point out.

When, and why, did the aforementioned travel take place, spurred on by the persecution of the Church? The Adoration of the Magi is dated around the year 1481. Here is the description I make of the painting in my work El viaje secreto de Leonardo da Vinci:

Beneath the leafy tree you can see a clone of yourself [Leonardo's] that raises its finger, turning its back on the scene. Why do I say it's a clone? Because he is very much like the young man on the right; he has the same expression, and almost the same head inclination... Further on, in the upper right corner, you draw some rocks of whimsical shapes ... And immediately in front of them... What a horror!

I am surprised that this horrific scene has not been given the relevance it deserves. Knights with shields and a dog harass a group of unfortunates who are languishing at the stake, no doubt representing the perfect Cathars who were executed on the pyre for their religious beliefs. Yes, this painting is a cry of rage and grief at the injustice perpetrated by the Church of Peter against the Church of John. The individuals who burn at the stake of the right would be victims of the intolerance demonstrated by the official Church against other religious currents discordant with its doctrine. The individual pointing (perhaps yourself, Leonardo?) points his finger towards the cruel slaughter I have just described, emphasizing this detail, masked by the motley composition of the painting.

The infant Jesus, unlike his mother (affectionate and angelic), has an unedifying expression. Rather, he seems like a spoiled, capricious child, who asks in a bad way for the object offered to him by the Wise Man. This untouching attitude is confirmed by the old man on his right, who puts his hand on his head with a disapproving look. The individuals around them are also striking: emaciated, pleading, imploring for compassion... But the child – selfish? – is oblivious to all this, and is only concerned with the trifle he receives, contradicting the Scriptures: "Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted" (Matthew, 5: 5). Everything is pain and disappointment on the part of the common people who surround the mother and child; contained and repressed by the armed knights who try to bring a little order to the scene.

I believe that you intended to express in this work your more than negative vision of the Church: "Pharisees, that is, friars", you once said; and "I see Christ sold and crucified again and his saints suffering martyrdom", in another. Catholicism is in your eyes a mere deception, an imposture, a horrendous abomination that limits freedom and endangers the lives of your "brothers and sisters in the faith”. The Adoration of the Magi is therefore a testimony of your disaffection with the established Church, rather than a manifesto of your Neoplatonic beliefs. No wonder you didn't finish it. If you did, you would possibly have ended up like the wretches who appear here wasting away in the fire.

Mr. Vecce, you consider that all this chaos, this nonsense of Adoration, alludes to the tragic events that followed the Pazzi Conspiracy, which took place just three years before. Thus, this work would refer to the construction of a new temple, the temple of "civil coexistence" (page 125). I could not disagree more: if what strikes you most is the "elephant cub" that appears here (page 123), it is either that you have not understood anything, or it is that you want to draw a thick veil over the true meaning of this work.

When Leonardo wrote (Codex Atlanticus, f. 680 r): "Quando io feci Domene Dio putto, voi mi mettesti in prigione; ora, s'io lo fo grande, voi mi farete peggio" (when I made a small Son of God you put me in prison, now, if I make it big, you will do something worse to me), was undoubtedly referring to a serious problem with the Inquisition for some matter of religious iconography. I cannot think of a situation like the one described here other than that which would take place during the preparation of the Adoration, explained above. In the face of such audacity, Leonardo undoubtedly suffered imprisonment (we do not know for how long). From my point of view, this fact is what would have forced him to flee to Barcelona, to join his overseas family (the relatives of his grandfather Antonio), until "waves calmed down" in his own country. (All told, the great Christ could be the Christ of the Last Supper, the year 1495, of which I will speak below.)

Let's continue with the Saint Jerome, conventionally dated around 1481. You think it was commissioned by the Jesuati of Florence. And you point out that in the hole between the rocks the church of Santa Maria Novella can be distinguished (pages 128 and 129). In short, everything stays at home (Florence). Nothing could be further from the truth. Everything points to Leonardo painting it (and leaving it unfinished, as he used to do) in the monastery of Montserrat. In El viaje secreto de Leonardo da Vinci I write the following:

This is, from my point of view, the route of Saint Jerome. You must have painted it in Montserrat – leaving it unfinished – around 1482. It remained there until 1776 when Pau Serra used it as a model for the tympanum of the old façade. None of the illustrious people who visited the sanctuary echoed it because they were probably unaware of its importance. Marechal Suchet's troops, in July 1811, would have stolen it during the sack of the monastery (since objects of this caliber are not easy to hide). They would cut it in two – for transport – and give it to Cardinal Fesch. He would have treasured it – inventing the crazy story of its discovery in two establishments in Rome – until his death. In the mid-nineteenth century it was sold by his heirs to the Vatican Pinacoteca. Thus would end the bizarre vicissitudes of this painting, worthy of serving as a plot for a novel.

I suggest that you read the following compilation article to see the evidence on which I base myself to make the aforementioned statements:

José Luis Espejo - My strong points about Leonardo da Vinci

As far as the Mona Lisa is concerned, it strikes me – and it hurts me – that you do not allude to the great discoveries of Silvano Vinceti, in relation to the cryptograms that are hidden there. In the article José Luis Espejo - My strong points about Leonardo da Vinci you will have the opportunity to find them. Specifically, the number 72 under the bridge, associated with the letters S and A located a little above, alludes to a passage of St. Augustine, in the City of God, where he speaks of the 72 peoples that were distributed around the world after the Flood. This gives an idea of the "universal" importance that Leonardo gives to this message.

As for the woman portrayed, I believe that it is the Caterina Vilar de Martorell of whom I have spoken above, as he places her on the lands of her property (Terres del Palau). As I have anticipated, with her he would have had -possibly- a son, Juan Bautista Vilar, who would be the Battista de Vilanis (or Vilaris), his personal servant, who took the "lion's share" of his will. The landscape, which you can find in the aforementioned article José Luis Espejo - My strong points about Leonardo da Vinci, would be a collage where we would find the rocks of Matauet, the Llobregat River, the mountain of Montserrat in the background and the medieval bridge of Monistrol de Montserrat. I leave it to your discretion. The Mona Lisa that Vasari saw would surely not be the one in Paris, but the one in Madrid, which would explain his allusion to eyelashes, eyebrows, pinkish openings in the nose, the red of the lips or the fontanel of the throat... None of this can be found in the Mona Lisa in Paris, but in the one in Madrid.

And what about the Last Supper in Milan? Apart from remembering that here he draws a Saint John with a feminine physiognomy (as was common in the Catalonia of his time), whom he calls Giovannina, and that he regrets that this work may cause him the complications that the Adoration (the famous "Christ child" that led him to prison) already caused him, a brief iconographic study shows that it could be inspired by a much earlier piece of Catalan Gothic: the Holy Supper of Solsona by Pere Teixidor:

José Luis Espejo - Solsona's Holy Supper, model for Leonardo's Last Supper?

From this same Catalan work he could have obtained the iconography of his Salvator Mundi, which you, Mr. Vecce, considere to be a piece attributable to Leonardo (page 480).

How and when could Leonardo have observed Pere Teixidó's Holy Supper, also called Solsona's Holy Supper, shortly before making the Last Supper in Milan? It so happens that in a note in Codex H (folio 94 r), dated around 1494 (a year before the Last Supper), the following names appear: Niccolao and Ferrando. That same year, specifically in the autumn of 1994, Hieronimus Münzer's Travel Diary narrates the meeting of this German traveler, in Barcelona, with a certain Leonardo and a certain Nicolás, a friend of Leonardo. From my point of view, these two characters would be Leonardo da Vinci and Niccolò Machiavelli, perhaps accompanied by Fernando Yáñez de la Almedina, who in later years (in 1505) would accompany him in his workshop in Florence. That same year, in 1494, he would have observed the Holy Supper of Solsona in a hermitage located near the property of a monk from Montserrat called Benedictus Solivella, near Navès. In this regard, see the following article:

José Luis Espejo - Leonardo, in Barcelona in 1494?

In the years that coincide with his service to Cesare Borgia (around 1502) Leonardo devoted himself to the study of cartography, the making of maps, and the design of fortresses. You, Mr. Vecce, allude to his invention of "fantastic fortresses" (page 361), without mentioning the copy, in the Madrid II Codex, of what would be the most advanced and powerful fortress of its time: the castle of Salses, completed in 1504, as I explain in José Luis Espejo - My strong points about Leonardo da Vinci.

Coinciding with the year 1504, Leonardo made a drawing of a hill, with a construction above, and on the other side of the folio he wrote a list of clothes that he called "In cassa al munistero" (Códice Madrid II, f. 4 r-v). The drawing of the rocky hill represents a monastery, located half a kilometre from the city of Martorell, called Sant Genís de Rocafort, at that time already demolished (by an earthquake). Leonardo writes next to it "Rocafor". See: José Luis Espejo - My strong points about Leonardo da Vinci. On the opposite side his list of clothes, as you point out (page 414), includes a pink "Catalan cape", which does not seem strange considering that at that time he was in Martorell (Catalonia). You, of course, point out that such a monastery is actually Santa Maria Novella (pages 413-414).

Mr. Vecce, you do not speak of Leonardo da Vinci's world map, but you do mention the maps that he had stored in the Benci house in Florence (page 374). This world map, from my point of view, could be the first in which the word America appears. It was probably the result of the contact that would have taken place between Leonardo and Americo Vespucci, of whom he made a portrait, around 1504. I talk about all this in my book Los mensajes secretos de Leonardo da Vinci. It is also remarkable that Leonardo exposed his conception of the world in a sphere. This sphere was actually an ostrich egg, as I reveal in the following article:

José Luis Espejo - An unknown Leonardo

Curiously, in his father's house, in Via Ghibellina, there were two ostrich eggs (page 412); one of which he could have used to make his terrestrial globe.

A small detail that is not unimportant

Mr Vecce, you highlight Leonardo's interest in books and libraries. You allude to this on several occasions: in particular, his visits to the Viscontea-Esforcea library in Pavia (page 174) in search of the "Vitolone"; or to the library of the monastery of San Marco, in Florence (page 348); or to the library on Via dei Pandolfini (page 374); or that of Santo Spirito (page 377). You also mention on several occasions books that he seeks, that different people give him, or that they leave him, such as the book of Geometry that Vespucci wants to give him (page 377), or the Archimedes that César Borgia has to give him; whom he calls Borges, in Catalan (page 354).

That is why the letter to which I allude in the following article is of considerable importance:

José Luis Espejo - Leonardo, spy in Montserrat (1482)

It was sent by the priest Joan Boada to a courtier of Madrid, Francisco de Zamora, in 1789. I could find it in the file II-2520 of the Library of the Royal Palace of Madrid:

Ja ha alguns anys, que mon Parent canonge Pasqual de las Ave []

me referí haver llegit un itinerari de un fingit peregrí. Est []

molt. Era italià. Referia en son llibret tot lo mes repa []

tractant de Montserrat. Entre altres cosas diu que demaná per lo que []

daba de la llibreria. Preguntá a molts de ells, no trovaba qui []

per ultim un mirá la llista dels empleats, y aixý adquirí que []

aná per ell, y li digué haver perdut la clau. Cercant la trová, []

traren en ella [la llibrería], y veu que tot era de teranyinas, y pols. Li digué lo [pere]

grí es llastima que en un monastir com es aquest, estigan de eixa []

los llibres. Diu li respongué que vastant havia estudiat, y eren []

lo Pe_ [permanent?] fay[ç]ó para los presentes, e venideros. Penso estan a[b] []

mateixa maxima. Informat del Sr. Rull lo Illm [Illustrissim] elemental [Clement?]

modus vivendi que ja tenian en aquell temps, no obstant de que []

era admes a la Comunitat, a forsa de instancias de dit Illm,

Later on, Joan Boada says to this Minister of the Court of Madrid:

Si eixas cartas tiran tal qual, al fi del frare, que deuhen fer

las que van enclosas per aquell[s] subjecte[s] que tant doná que 

murmurar, y que tantas diligencias practicá perque vm [vuestras mercedes?] []

vinguesen a fernos missió, valentse perque lo vicari tercer []

desocupás la Casa de la Rectoria. Deu lo encamini.

In short, Joan Boada alludes to a "pretended -italian- pilgrim" who insisted on visiting the monastery's library, where he finally stayed as a guest of the Most Illustrious Rull, who can be none other than Llorenç Marull, Abbot in the monastery of Santa Cecília de Montserrat, and vicar in Santa Maria de Montserrat of Abbot Giuliano della Rovere, future Pope Julius II. This places us around the year 1482, since the Abbot resigned a year later from the tenure of that position. Next to this letter we see the drawing of a sculpture of Saint Cecília, with hidden letters ("l", "d", "v"; Leonardo da Vinci). This drawing would be made by Francisco de Zamora, who pointed out in his diary that he made several drawings of the pieces he found in the monastery. On the other hand, Leonardo made several terracotta sculptures in his young years (page 67).

As far as Rull is concerned, it is noteworthy that Leonardo often abbreviated names, such as "io, morando dant, sono contento" (page 77), in allusion to his grandfather Antonio, or "Antonio Gri", referring to Antonio Grifo (page 223). Thus, it is not surprising that he turned Marull into Rull. Which is in itself a sure indication that we are talking about Leonardo. Why is there no record of Leonardo in Montserrat? In my book El viaje secreto de Leonardo da Vinci I explain that the Montserratine archives were destroyed by the French in 1811. But in addition, as we see in Joan Boada's message, certain letters are being "thrown away" that "gave so much to murmur", and that made the aforementioned Francisco de Zamora come to the monastery. These letters, which are destroyed, could be the ones that report Leonardo's presence in Montserrat. The only written reference to them is seen here, in the letter from the humble Joan Boada to the powerful minister of Madrid.

But the clearest indication that Leonardo was in Montserrat, from the careful reading of the aforementioned letter, is his insistence on wanting to see the library. His obsession with books and libraries is reflected in this small, but at the same time significant, detail.

Leonardo's true purpose

In light of all that has been said, it is clear that Leonardo, in addition to wanting to preserve his skin, like any other person, had a vital purpose, a goal that motivated him. In my books El viaje secreto de Leonardo da Vinci and Los mensajes ocultos de Leonardo da Vinci, I defend the idea that he was influenced by the beliefs of his ancestors, most likely Cathar adepts, and that his repeated stays in Catalonia would have brought him into contact with Gnostic and heretical conceptions, which he would have reflected both in his artistic work and in his writings.

We find an example in his allegorical letter to the Diodario of Syria (page 471), in which he speaks of the prophet and prophecy. This letter (Codex Atlanticus, f. 393 r-v) is accompanied by various drawings of rocks in the style of Montserrat, as well as messages such as "molti che tengon la fede del figliolo e sol fan templi nel nome della madre" (many who have the faith of the son only make temples in the name of the mother), or "gran parte de ' corpi animati passerà pe' corpi degli altri animali" (a large part of the animated bodies will pass by the bodies of other animals). Both expressions allude to Cathar concepts: the cult of the Immaculate Virgin, above the cult of the Savior (Christ); and the idea of reincarnation, or transmigration of souls. This is why he refers to with his mention of the prophet, prophecy, and the flood that destroys the valley.

Mr Vecce, you identify as an "emblem" the expression "albero tabliato che rimette, ancora spero, falcon-tempo, 1200" (cut tree that sprouts again, I still hope, falcon-time, 1200), what is rather a "profession of faith". This message alludes to the esoteric symbol of the "resurgence", in this case of the Cathar religion that was exterminated by the church, to the falcon (the emperor) who will defeat the Church, to the hope that something like this will happen, and to the date (year 1200) in which the Cathar faith of their ancestors was exterminated.

Let us remember the phrase, in Codex Atlanticus 680 r: "Quando io feci Domene Dio putto, voi mi mettesti in prigione; ora, s'io lo fo grande, voi mi farete peggio" (when I made a little Son of God you put me in prison, now, if I make it big, you will do something worse to me). As I have pointed out above, this meant imprisonment, and exile in Barcelona for a few months (or a little more than a year). What is little known is that this phrase, extremely clear as far as his heretical religious convictions are concerned, easily discernible in his Adoration, is accompanied by the following sentence: "Quando io crederò imparare a vivere, e io imparerò a morire" (when I will believe, I will learn to live and to die). Again, a clear allusion to his heterodox beliefs: how is he going to believe, if he is already a Christian? If he is to believe, it must be in something new. That is why I find the following sentence surprising, Mr. Vecce: "As a good Christian, Leonardo entrusts his soul to God, to the Virgin, to St. Michael and to all the saints and angels of Paradise" (page 570). I suppose you will say it jokingly, because if something is clear to us after this last reflection, it is that Leonardo was more heretic than Christian.

A final word

In short, Mr Vecce, your work seems to me useful and necessary, but it is manifestly insufficient, because "you have not dared", because "you have not gone deeper", because you have described an unreal Leonardo: a puppet of destiny, without motivation or purpose. Leonardo was not only a great anticipator, but also a great humanist, in search of a total philosophy, of total beauty, and of a religion based on the tradition of his ancestors. Leonardo was not perfect, as we well know, but although he betrayed his country and his benefactors on a few occasions, he never betrayed his own convictions. The real Leonardo is much more complex than the one you describe. And to find the roots of this complexity, we must focus on Barcelona, where he forged his heterodox vision to a large extent.

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