I heard an interesting theory about the Mona Lisa recently. I don’t remember the book. I’ve read (and listened to) so many books lately that I can’t keep them all straight. I’ve tried to find an article online about it and none have the detail I’m searching for. Is this a common knowledge story that I’m just now hearing about?? Maybe it was a dream? Anyway, I’m sure some smarty-pants will let me know how wrong I am. But really, is interpretation of art ever really wrong? The answer is no. Art is to be seen and felt. If you walk away from art and are still thinking about it later, it did it’s job. So even if I’m wrong here, I’m not. Anyway, I was running of course, because that’s when I do my best listening and thinking.
The theory is that Mona Lisa is definitely only “half” smiling, because she couldn’t “whole” smile anymore.
The artist, Leonardo DaVinci, begged her to smile. She wouldn’t do it. She smiled all she could.
Supposedly, Mona Lisa had one or two little children. Then she had another baby, who passed as an infant. She mourned that baby intensely. She was heartbroken and saddened for a very long time.
At the time of the painting, her pain was still significant, but her husband had already made arrangements with DaVinci. She wanted to do it, but the timing was just bad.
DaVinci set her up and prepared his easel and paints and began painting. He did everything else and saved the details of her face for last thinking eventually she would smile. He asked her to and she wouldn’t do it fully. He became frustrated with her, but decided just to paint her with the famous ambiguous smile.
Later, when someone asked why she didn’t smile completely, she said something like:
“I knew I should smile. I have beautiful children and a good life. I am so thankful for that. However, I can’t smile fully. It would be disrespectful to the baby I lost. I loved the baby as only a mother can and my heart is broken forever. At this moment in time, I can’t smile completely, because I want it to be relayed in the painting that although I am happy, I am deeply sad. I don’t want anyone to ever think that I am not still sad. I will always be sad.”
For many months I felt the same way. Losing a husband is a much different pain than losing a child. I don’t know which pain is worse and I never want to know for sure. Pain is pain, loss is loss. It’s all bad. Anyway, I did a half hearted smile for our annual Christmas card back in December. I didn’t want to do a family photo with just three of us instead of four, but I wanted to continue with the tradition. I felt like it was important to demonstrate to the kids that we were moving forward. I wanted to send out the cards to our loved ones to show that we COULD move forward. I didn’t want to smile, though. Why would I smile? I had just lost my husband a few weeks before. If I smiled, did that mean I was “over” it? Would I be advertising to everyone whom I sent cards to that I was fine and I was done with my sadness? I reminded myself that I was doing this for my kids and how could I not be happy, thrilled even, that my kids were with me? And our little dog, too. (Spoken like the Wicked Witch of the West) How could I not show joy, even for just a minute? So I did. It wasn’t a good smile. None of us smiled all that willingly, but we did it.
So when I heard that Mona Lisa story recently, I stopped running and heard myself say, “Yes! Me too!! I didn’t know that’s how I felt, but it is!” (Seriously, if I couldn’t run out here among the corn and beans, the forest and the river, I would surely be in an insane asylum. Nature has witnessed me at my worst while helping me be my best. God bless the countryside!)
I have random smiles all the time and I do laugh quite often. But when someone is about to take my picture and tells me to smile I have a thought that takes only a fraction of a second. The thought is: “Nope, can’t do it. I want this moment in time to show my real feelings. They are that I am so happy to be here, but I’m so sad that Tom is not. I’ll half smile for now. When I look back at this photo I’ll remember that although I am happy, my heart is still broken. Forever.”
So, this theory may be way off. And I can’t give credit to whichever book I got it from because I forgot. However, I, personally, am going to go with it. As a matter of fact, I appreciate the painting so much more seeing it through that lens.
I saw an advertisement for 15 minute sessions for family photos recently. The appointment openings were two days away. I immediately signed up. We were still basically in quarantine, bored with no plans, so I thought maybe impromptu photos NOT at Christmas time would make family photos easier this year. There was no pressure to put them in the mail on time. There was no pressure to have the appropriate clothes. There was no pressure to have good hair (Covid hair). So we put on whatever clothes we wanted, grabbed the dog and got our pictures taken.
It was hard. I’ve never liked being told to smile (See below) I especially don’t like it now. Authentic smiles happen spontaneously and naturally. They are funny and pure. They are joyful and magical. When your favorite people smile spontaneously, it lights up your world for the duration of the smile. It makes your heart tingle and your belly flutter. With inauthentic smiles, there is no happy physical reaction.
The kids did great, of course. Their smiles gorgeous with their perfect teeth (no braces, just good teeth genes from me!). Their shiny blond hair and radiant skin. Their outer youth and inner wisdom is captured. They are so much wiser than they should be at this age. The dog made it a little difficult as she sniffed the new surroundings, but also more relaxed because she was there.
When the photographer said to smile, I did, but it wasn’t authentic. I could feel my face reject a full smile. I kept trying and my face kept declining. I would do something goofy to make the kids smile and then I’d look at the camera and feel my face fall to half a smile. It was involuntary. I thought of Mona Lisa.
I look back at pictures of me with Tom and the kids and we all glow. Laughing with Huge smiles arms wrapped around each other like we’re hanging on for dear life. And I guess we were.
Anyway, our *family of three* photos turned out really good. They were short and impromptu and I think that’s key. The photographer sneakily took a few without saying “smile”, and those are the ones where I smiled the best. (I can tell they are a natural smile because I look too gummy, I have a lopsided smile making my right eye smaller than the left, and I have weird dimples that I normally try to control in pictures. Women, why do we critique ourselves like this?)
I wasn’t commemorating a moment in time in those particular pics. I was just being me, goofing off with my kids. I wasn’t micromanaging my thoughts and thinking, “…I want this moment in time to show my real feelings. They are that I am so happy to be here, but I’m so sad that Tom is not. I’ll half smile for now. When I look back at this photo I’ll remember that although I am happy, my heart is still broken and will be Forever.”
In this exact moment in time in the picture above, we were HAPPY.
Side note 1: Tom and I went to Paris and were going to go to the Louvre to see the Mona Lisa in 2004. We planned to do it on a Tuesday. The Louvre is (was) closed on Tuesdays. What are the chances? I actually didn’t care at the time. There were so many other things to do and see. But if I ever do go back, I want to see the Mona Lisa for sure. I want to tell her that I understand.
Side note 2: Almost all professional pictures of me as a child are of me not smiling. In this picture I was mad about the pointy collared shirt. To be clear- this is not a deep, thought provoking Mona Lisa smile. This is a picture of me not liking someone who is telling me to smile.😂
