Leonardo Da Vinci, the master of Renaissance, a figure that is closest to the ubermensch of Nietzsche, the symbol of the human pride in himself, a hope that anything can be possible.
These are some of the ways that Leonardo Da Vinci has been presented to me since my younger ages, so did to many others . He has become a popular figure of 21st century in nostalgia of narrating how humankind have progressed by following the inner drives and curiosity. With an indication of a hidden hope to cure our insignificance as individuals in a mass of 7 billion people, having the knowledge of a infinite universe, a vastness of consciousness and a history that goes beyond our sight that seemingly already includes anything we might do. In the world we live in, somehow everything else is more significant than ourselves. “The other” is now the masses, techs do their work with a perfection that is forbidden to us, science suggests an absolute control of our environment, and we are surrounded entities which scale beyond our comprehension such as the states, the multi-national companies, THE INTERNET.
There is no uniqueness, not enough space for one to “shine like a diamond”. However a figure like Leonardo Da Vinci somehow promises that one man can be beyond all these. An alluring image of the intellect, the talent, the productivity, transcending time and society, an orphan born being tended in his dying bed by the hands of the kings and the pope, passing on an immortal reputation, a mystery, a wisdom that feels as if it could have almost pierced the life itself…
As a child, I must have been affected by this allure however I was too young to realize him in a different perspective than he was advertised. For me the biggest attraction was that he was like me. Like a child. And he was legitimised by the world unlike anything about me. I was the least in the world, the smallest, the weakest, the ignorant one who needed to be taught all the time.
The world I was experiencing was constantly not recognising me and forcing me to recognise it. There was no question about it. As a child, my way of thinking needed change, my skills were not enough, they needed to be improved, the world as I perceived was only a child’s hallucination . However there was Leonardo who was telling me it was the opposite. So I took him as an ally. I hid myself in him, and later on used him as a shelter and as a teacher.
When I decided to improve my creative skills and learn drawing, I refused take any teachers. I had lost my trust in teachers and had proven myself that I, could learn things by myself. And that was how it should have been. The phenomena of life belonged to me just as it had belonged to anyone else. The truth of a thing was in existence for anyone who is here.
Everybody has a uniqueness indeed. Everybody has their of knowledge of life.
That’s taken from us from constant education. From the era of babyness, first parents by teaching us what is what, what is their function and why they are there, they start to formulate our conjunction, train our eyes, hands, body, imagination. There is a name for everything. There are certain purposes. Things are made for specific functions . There are certain steps to do things. Everything is in their assigned place. And there are supreme courts, councils, people who know the best and tell us how we should live. But more than that what life is and what world is.
“That is earth my dear. That is a tree. This is sky we get rain, snow, ice, sun and beautiful spectacles from it. These are animals, so name ten of them.If you want to learn more look at the pictures, you can read about them as well.”
So that’s how we get lost. Without our authentic experience of life, we become aliens or zombies as they are more popular nowadays. A repetitive shadows of beyond- human persona.
Leonardo Da Vinci as a bastard son of one these supreme court members reflect to me as a sad story. He chased after that beyond-human , super-human state. One questions how much of these holy human drives of curiosity, ambition to know, to achieve are inner-driven and how much of it was imposed on child’s soul. His miracle has been that he is one of the few who achieved it, the super human. But now I sometimes think in a dream-like stream of events, whether he was a child encapsulated in sort of black magic, that kept him alive for its sources and twisted into a weird machine of production to dazzle like a circus member for kings and popes, a play-writer for their wars?