A Portrait Made Her Famous

On this day, January 8, in 1962, the Mona Lisa was exhibited for the first time in the United States. More than 2,000 dignitaries, including President John F. Kennedy, gathered for the unveiling at the National Gallery in Washington. The exhibit was opened to the public the next day, and in three weeks, more than half a million people had seen the painting. It was then shown in New York City, where another million people saw it at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. First Lady Jacqueline Kennedy and French Minister of Culture André Malraux arranged for the painting to be shown in the United States.

The painting by Leonardo da Vinci was completed in 1504 - do the math: that's 505 years ago! - and depicts the wife of a wealthy Florentine citizen, Francesco del Gioconda (hence, the other name by which the painting is known, La Gioconda).

It's not very big--30 inches by 21 inches (77 cm by 50 cm). The room in which it is exhibited at the Louvre Museum in Paris dwarfs the painting. On the opposite wall, near the entrance to the room, is a huge wall-sized painting, The Wedding Feast at Cana. As you enter the room, your eyes are drawn to this immense painting that is about 1000 cm by 700 cm. You view the cast of characters, the colours, the play of light and shadow, and then you slowly become aware of the other people in the room. They aren't looking at The Wedding Feast. They are captivated by neither the story it depicts--that of the first miracle of Jesus--nor by the colours and expanse of blue sky at the top centre of the painting. That's not what they have come to see.

They've come to see one of the Louvre's three "famous ladies." Perhaps they've already seen the Venus de Milo and the Winged Victory of Samothrace. They've saved the best for last: the painting that has been studied and analyzed more than any other piece of art in the world. It is protected by a guard, maybe two. It is covered by a Plexiglas box that keeps the dust off and provides a humidity-controlled environment for the painting.

Hundreds of people are in the room. They move forward slowly in the line, to stare for a few moments at the famous face with its enigmatic smile. Then, knowing the impatience of the those waiting behind in line, each person moves away, their eyes having gazed for a few moments on The Real Thing.

For most people, these kinds of moments don't happen very often. They are special, remembered. It's like being introduced to a famous person. We are awed--whelmed--by the experience.

And that's a wonderful feeling.