The Last Supper

Leonardo da Vinci painted this scene right onto the wall of a dining hall in Milan's Santa Maria delle Grazie monastery, finishing it in 1498. The moment he chose is a tense one. Jesus has just told his twelve disciples that one of them will betray him, and the whole table erupts in reaction. Some men recoil, others lean forward in disbelief, and a few turn to their neighbors to whisper. Every face carries a distinct feeling, which was a bold and unusual choice back then. All the lines of the room, the ceiling beams and the walls, pull your gaze toward Jesus at the center, a clever use of perspective that sits at the heart of the Italian Renaissance.

The painting comes with a heartbreaking backstory. Rather than follow the tried and true fresco technique of working on wet plaster, Leonardo mixed his own materials and painted on dry wall so he could take his time and pack in fine details. The trouble is that the paint never truly stuck. Flaking and fading set in within a few decades of its completion. Since then the work has endured bombings, flooding, and a doorway that was once cut straight through the bottom, which is why Jesus seems to be missing his feet. The version on view now has passed through many rounds of restoration, a faint echo of Leonardo's original that still commands the space it was made for.