Art Quotes in The Da Vinci Code

How we cite our quotes: (Chapter.Paragraph)

Quote #1

Accepting hundreds of lucrative Vatican commissions, Da Vinci painted Christian themes not as an expression of his own beliefs but rather as a commercial venture – a means of funding a lavish lifestyle. Unfortunately, Da Vinci was a prankster who often amused himself by quietly gnawing at the hand that fed him. He incorporated in many of his Christian paintings hidden symbolism that was anything but Christian – tributes to his own beliefs and a subtle thumbing of his nose at the Church. (8.35)

Da Vinci probably hated having to paint as a "commercial venture". Most artists do – they want to be able to express themselves, not someone else's idea of art. But someone's gotta put food on the table. So, this was his way of making his career more palatable. Thankfully, it also lends a bit of humor to some rather serious subject matters.

Quote #2

Over the next half hour, Langdon showed them slides of artwork by Michelangelo, Albrecht Dürer, Da Vinci, and many others, demonstrating each artist's intentional and rigorous adherence to the Divine Proportion in the layout of his compositions. Langdon unveiled PHI in the architectural dimensions of the Greek Parthenon, the pyramids of Egypt, and even the United Nations Building in New York. PHI appeared in the organizational structures of Mozart's sonatas, Beethoven's Fifth Symphony, as well as the works of Bartók, Debussy, and Schubert. The number PHI, Langdon told them, was even used by Stradivarius to calculate the exact placement of the f-holes in the construction of his famous violins. (20.73)

Who knew art was so mathematic? (Well, other than Langdon, of course.) Langdon takes such glee in making people see everyday objects in a new light, so it's no surprise that this particular subject matter brings him particular joy.

Quote #3

While being interviewed by an American art magazine, Saunière had expressed his distaste for the modernist Cubist movement by noting that Picasso's masterpiece Les Demoiselles d'Avignon was a perfect anagram of vile meaningless doodles. Picasso fans were not amused. (21.6)

If you're wondering what Les Demoiselles d'Avignon looks like, here's a link. Although everyone's entitled to their own opinion (that's why it's art!), Saunière might've been a bit snobby turning his nose up at one of Picasso's masterpieces in such a way. Then again, if you idolize Da Vinci, Picasso wouldn't seem to be in the same class.

Quote #4

Despite her monumental reputation, the Mona Lisa was a mere thirty-one inches by twenty-one inches— smaller even than the posters of her sold in the Louvre gift shop. She hung on the northwest wall of the Salle des Etats behind a two-inch-thick pane of protective Plexiglas. Painted on a poplar wood panel, her ethereal, mist-filled atmosphere was attributed to Da Vinci's mastery of the sfumato style, in which forms appear to evaporate into one another. (26.1)

When Saunière brought Sophie to see the Mona Lisa for the first time, she was disappointed because the painting was so small and unimpressive. Isn't it funny, that one of the world's most infamous masterpieces is that underwhelming?

Quote #5

The Mona Lisa's status as the most famous piece of art in the world, Langdon knew, had nothing to do with her enigmatic smile. Nor was it due to the mysterious interpretations attributed her by many art historians and conspiracy buffs. Quite simply, the Mona Lisa was famous because Leonardo da Vinci claimed she was his finest accomplishment. He carried the painting with him whenever he traveled and, if asked why, would reply that he found it hard to part with his most sublime expression of female beauty.

Even so, many art historians suspected Da Vinci's reverence for the Mona Lisa had nothing to do with its artistic mastery. In actuality, the painting was a surprisingly ordinary sfumato portrait. Da Vinci's veneration for this work, many claimed, stemmed from something far deeper: a hidden message in the layers of paint. The Mona Lisa was, in fact, one of the world's most documented inside jokes. The painting's well-documented collage of double entendres and playful allusions had been revealed in most art history tomes, and yet, incredibly, the public at large still considered her smile a great mystery. (26.6)

It turns out the great mystery is that Mona Lisa is supposed to be the divine union of male and female in the perfect representation of beauty. So her mysterious smile is all about androgyny. (Langdon explains all this in a flashback to one of his own entertaining lectures for some inmates at a local prison.) How is this important to our plot? It's not, really. It helps a little bit to build on the premise that Da Vinci was a devout adherent to the beliefs of the Priory of Sion…but more importantly, it's fascinating.

Quote #6

The masterpiece she was examining was a five-foot-tall canvas. The bizarre scene Da Vinci had painted included an awkwardly posed Virgin Mary sitting with Baby Jesus, John the Baptist, and the Angel Uriel on a perilous outcropping of rocks. When Sophie was a little girl, no trip to the Mona Lisa had been complete without her grandfather dragging her across the room to see this second painting. (30.20)

That's such a universal experience in an art museum: the parents, desperately trying to inject some culture into their progeny; and the child, dragging their feet and equally desperate to just go home. It's funny that someone who was raised with such respect for the art world to still pull the: "Ugh, Grandpa. We've seen this one already!"

Quote #7

Langdon's students were always amused to learn that Da Vinci eventually mollified the confraternity by painting them a second, "watered-down" version of Madonna of the Rocks in which everyone was arranged in a more orthodox manner. The second version now hung in London's National Gallery under the name Virgin of the Rocks, although Langdon still preferred the Louvre's more intriguing original. (32.20)

Obviously the original's more intriguing – Da Vinci's cleverly hostile juxtaposition of the subjects makes it infinitely more thought provoking. But what if Dan Brown's (Langdon's) interpretation of the masterpiece is incorrect?

Quote #8

For this reason, Grail enthusiasts still pored over Da Vinci's art and diaries in hopes of unearthing a hidden clue as to the Grail's current location. Some claimed the mountainous backdrop in Madonna of the Rocks matched the topography of a series of cave-ridden hills in Scotland. Others insisted that the suspicious placement of disciples in The Last Supper was some kind of code. Still others claimed that X rays of the Mona Lisa revealed she originally had been painted wearing a lapis lazuli pendant of Isis— a detail Da Vinci purportedly later decided to paint over. Langdon had never seen any evidence of the pendant, nor could he imagine how it could possibly reveal the Holy Grail, and yet Grail aficionados still discussed it ad nauseum on Internet bulletin boards and worldwide-web chat rooms. (40.16)

This is one of the best things about art: it's all open to interpretation. Even Langdon and Teabing are prone to believe in some conspiracy theory-type nonsense: "Wow, Jesus and the person next to him make the letter "M" in The Last Supper! That must allude to marriage. Or Mary Magdalene." Or "magnificent." Or how about Monster Mash? Maybe mayhem? You get the idea…

Quote #9

"I assume you recognize this fresco?"

He's kidding, right? Sophie was staring at the most famous fresco of all time— The Last Supper— Da Vinci's legendary painting from the wall of Santa Maria delle Grazie near Milan. The decaying fresco portrayed Jesus and His disciples at the moment that Jesus announced one of them would betray Him. "I know the fresco, yes."

"Then perhaps you would indulge me this little game? Close your eyes if you would."
Uncertain, Sophie closed her eyes.

"Where is Jesus sitting?" Teabing asked.

"In the center."

"Good. And what food are He and His disciples breaking and eating?"

"Bread." Obviously.

"Superb. And what drink?"

"Wine. They drank wine."

"Great. And one final question. How many wineglasses are on the table?"

Sophie paused, realizing it was a trick question. And after dinner, Jesus took the cup of wine, sharing it with His disciples. "One cup," she said. "The chalice." The Cup of Christ. The Holy Grail. "Jesus passed a single chalice of wine, just as modern Christians do at communion."

Teabing sighed. "Open your eyes."

She did. Teabing was grinning smugly. Sophie looked down at the painting, seeing to her astonishment that everyone at the table had a glass of wine, including Christ. Thirteen cups. Moreover, the cups were tiny, stemless, and made of glass. There was no chalice in the painting. No Holy Grail. (55.55-67)

It's amazing how your own preconceptions can shape what you see (or what you choose to see). Because Sophie assumed the Holy Grail is what Hollywood claims it is (i.e.: a fancy-schmancy cup…right?), she just figured there'd be one fancy cup in the painting, too. (Here's the fresco if you want to see for yourself.)

Quote #10

"The Grail story is everywhere, but it is hidden. When the Church outlawed speaking of the shunned Mary Magdalene, her story and importance had to be passed on through more discreet channels … channels that supported metaphor and symbolism."

"Of course. The arts."

Langdon motioned to The Last Supper. "A perfect example. Some of today's most enduring art, literature, and music secretly tell the history of Mary Magdalene and Jesus." Langdon quickly told her about works by Da Vinci, Botticelli, Poussin, Bernini, Mozart, and Victor Hugo that all whispered of the quest to restore the banished sacred feminine. Enduring legends like Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, King Arthur, and Sleeping Beauty were Grail allegories. Victor Hugo's Hunchback of Notre Dame and Mozart's Magic Flute were filled with Masonic symbolism and Grail secrets. (61.15-17)

Okay, we can see the Sleeping Beauty allegory, but we're a bit in the dark with how the Hunchback of Notre Dame fits in…

Quote #11

Every surface in the chapel had been carved with symbols— Christian cruciforms, Jewish stars, Masonic seals, Templar crosses, cornucopias, pyramids, astrological signs, plants, vegetables, pentacles, and roses. The Knights Templar had been master stonemasons, erecting Templar churches all over Europe, but Rosslyn was considered their most sublime labor of love and veneration. The master masons had left no stone uncarved. Rosslyn Chapel was a shrine to all faiths … to all traditions … and, above all, to nature and the goddess. (104.24)

It's not surprising that Rosslyn Chapel would be a place that appeals to Priory members, and honestly, it's something that needs to be seen to be believed (this is worth a Google image search. Trust us.) What's surprising is the fact that Langdon resists the urge to lecture Sophie on the multitude of symbols that are carved into the walls of the church. Each one has a specific meaning or allegorical reference, and Dan Brown could've spent chapters describing each one that could relate to their quest.