Aristotelian logic. A classic example is: Every Greek is a person. Every person is mortal. Therefore every Greek is mortal.
Aristotle’s lectures, collected by his followers, made up a kind of one-man encyclopedia of some 150 volumes. Arab scholars had preserved the great man’s works, which were now available in translation in Florence. In his own thinking, Leonardo started out as a disciple of Aristotle, then later began questioning his ideas and branching out. Aristotle believed, for example, that the moon produced its own light, while Leonardo came to think (correctly) that the moon’s light was reflected sunlight. Leonardo never followed anyone blindly.
Leonardo also showed an acquaintance with the controversial work of Roger Bacon, the brilliant thirteenth-century English philosopher, scientist, and monk. Bacon’s work, too, formed a universal encyclopedia of knowledge. He was another Aristotle fan, and way ahead of his time in scientific thinking—he advocated controlled experiments, the testing of ideas. This was a whole new concept, one that must have had profound influence on Leonardo’s own thinking. Aristotle and Plato found experiments pointless compared to the beauty of logic and mathematics.
Besides studying, Leonardo also had practical problems on his mind. With the city-states of Italy at war so much of the time, he was constantly sketching machines of warfare—this seemed a better bet for making money than painting. People who could design weapons were highly employable, and even though he personally hated war, designing machines fascinated him. On paper, he created innumerable tanks, crossbows, cannons, bombs, and guns.
At the same time, he was sketching machines that were powered by water or that could be used to transport water. He drew submarines, a snorkel, a machine for pumping water from underground, machines that would pump water through buildings, and a device that measured moisture in the air.
Having “graduated” from Verrocchio’s studio, Leonardo didn’t want to be thought of as a mere artist, an artisan. His role model was Giotto, a Florentine painter-architect who had died a century earlier, but who impressed Leonardo as a well-rounded innovator. “Giotto was not satisfied with imitating the works of his master,” Leonardo wrote. Leonardo wanted to be an original. He was much more interested in inventing and designing. An engineer-architect—now, that was a worthy goal. Plus, it would leave plenty of free time to study nature.
To further his studies, Leonardo needed time and support. He needed a protector who would cocoon him from the stress of earning money, a friend in a high place to ward off the prying eyes of the police. He needed a patron.
Unfortunately, it was becoming clear that Lorenzo de’ Medici was not going to be that patron. When the most important man in Florence wanted a job done, he sent it to artists who were Leonardo’s rivals. Extremely well educated, Lorenzo may have looked down on the “unlettered” artist, who didn’t know Latin, much less Greek.
Or perhaps Lorenzo just had a blind spot as far as recognizing Leonardo’s talent. In 1481, the pope asked him to send the best artists to work on the new Sistine Chapel. Leonardo didn’t make the cut. This seemed a bad omen for his future in Florence.
In fact, it was almost as big an embarrassment as his arrest. As he approached thirty, Leonardo’s only fame so far came from being named in a sordid court case.
It was time to get out of Florence.
CHAPTER SIX
“The Universe Stands Open”
THE YEAR 1482, when he was thirty years old, was a turning point in Leonardo’s life.
He left Florence to make a fresh start in the wealthy city-state of Milan, two hundred miles to the north. It was there that he began keeping notebooks that explored all areas of the natural world.
He knew no one in Milan, a big city with twice as many people as Florence. The city was not as famous for art as it was for