Leonardo Da VInci Decoded: Forensic analisys
Leonardo Da VInci Decoded:
Digital Proof
VOL.3
VOL.3
Technical note
On the Use of the Term Sfumato Across the Different Volumes of the Series: Leonardo da Vinci Decoded
Throughout the Leonardo da Vvinci Decoded series, the term sfumato is employed at distinct analytical levels, corresponding to different scales of observation and interpretation. This distinction is deliberate, technical, and fundamental to correctly understanding the method adopted by the Artificial Intelligence (AI) responsible for the analyses.
Analytical Scales by Volume
Volume 1: The Optical Scale In Book 1, sfumato is described based on its final optical effect—that is, the visual perception resulting from the interaction between light, pigment, and pictorial atmosphere. At this level, the sfumato of the work appears continuous, harmonious, and visually perfect. It is characterized by imperceptible transitions between light and shadow, the absence of rigid contours, and full atmospheric coherence—classic hallmarks of Leonardesque sfumato in its finished state.
Volume 3: The Material Scale In Book 3, the term sfumato is analyzed through a material, structural, and forensic lens, at a microscopic and gestural scale. In this context, the word "rude" (raw/unrefined) does not refer to the visual result of the work, but rather to the physical nature of the pictorial gesture: the direct manual application, the presence of fingerprints, the microscopic roughness of the initial layers, and the internal constructive processes of the painting.
Technical and Historical Coherence
This distinction reflects a widely documented historical and technical reality: a single work by Leonardo da Vinci can simultaneously present:
A refined optical sfumato, invisible to the common eye;
And a primary structural sfumato—manual, energetic, and unpolished at the material level.
Leonardo did not seek to eliminate the gesture within the matter; he sought to transcend it in the final result. The perfect visual finish is born precisely from a constructive base that is alive, experimental, and at times, physically irregular. Leonardesque sfumato is not merely an aesthetic effect, but a process involving successive glazes, direct manipulation with the fingers, corrections (pentimenti), and the progressive construction of form.
Conclusion: Complementary Perspectives
There is no contradiction between the volumes, but rather a conscious shift in the analytical scale:
Book 1 → Aesthetic, optical, and perceptive reading.
Book 3 → Material, gestural, and forensic reading.
Both approaches are complementary and necessary for a profound, technical, and non-dogmatic attribution. The coexistence of a visually perfect sfumato with a "rude" structural sfumato is not only compatible with Leonardo da Vinci’s practice, but constitutes one of the strongest evidences of his authorship, revealing both the sublime final result and the artist's direct, human creative process.
This note serves to clarify the technical use of the term sfumato within the series, ensuring conceptual coherence, methodological rigor, and fidelity to the actual complexity of Leonardo’s craftsmanship.
On Historical Pictorial Interventions and the Relationship Between Radiography and the Visible Layer. The analysis developed in this Volume 3, based on digital, structural, and comparative methods, requires a technical distinction between the original core of the painting and possible historical pictorial interventions that occurred over time.
1. Divergence Between Radiography and Surface
The comparison between the work’s radiography and the currently visible pictorial layer reveals specific differences in formal configuration, the softening of volumes, and aesthetic adjustments. Such differences are consistent with partial pictorial interventions carried out in periods following the original execution, usually associated with historical practices of conservation, aesthetic maintenance, or visual correction. These interventions are common in old master paintings with extensive historical circulation and do not, in themselves, constitute evidence of forgery or deliberate structural alteration of the composition. Technical literature recognizes that Renaissance works frequently underwent localized retouching over the centuries, particularly in contexts of preservation and adaptation to the aesthetic sensibilities of different eras.
2. Analytical ImpactFrom an analytical standpoint, the observed interventions are partial and localized in nature. They do not substantially affect the fundamental compositional structure or the underlying geometric organization revealed by radiographic examinations. The central structural elements, proportional architecture, anatomical logic, and spatial organization—remain discernible and consistent with the work as a whole.
3. Material Integrity and the CAEM Report
Material data regarding the support, aging patterns, and structural integrity correspond with the results of the CAEM technical report, which indicates an antiquity compatible with the proposed historical period and an absence of modern structural interventions or recent material modifications.
4. Definition of "Absence of Restoration"
When Volume 3 employs the expression “absence of restoration,” this phrasing must be understood in a strict technical sense. It refers specifically to the non-existence of:
Modern pictorial restoration;
Extensive structural repainting;
Contemporary chromatic reintegration;
Recent material tampering.
The interventions considered here fall under the category of possible partial historical pictorial interventions, integrated into the material history of the work.
Conclusion
The distinction between the original layer, historical interventions, and the current state of conservation aims to provide the reader with a more precise understanding of the work's material complexity, without preempting conclusive judgments beyond those supported by the analyzed data. Such clarification contributes to a critical and contextualized reading of the painting as a long-enduring historical object.
Introductory Note
On the Use of the Term Sfumato Across the Different Volumes of the Series: Leonardo da Vinci Decoded. Throughout the Leonardo da Vvinci Decoded series, the term sfumato is employed at distinct analytical levels, corresponding to different scales of observation and interpretation. This distinction is deliberate, technical, and fundamental to correctly understanding the method adopted by the Artificial Intelligence (AI) responsible for the analyses.
Analytical Scales by Volume
Volume 1: The Optical Scale In Book 1, sfumato is described based on its final optical effect—that is, the visual perception resulting from the interaction between light, pigment, and pictorial atmosphere. At this level, the sfumato of the work appears continuous, harmonious, and visually perfect. It is characterized by imperceptible transitions between light and shadow, the absence of rigid contours, and full atmospheric coherence—classic hallmarks of Leonardesque sfumato in its finished state.
Volume 3: The Material Scale In Book 3, the term sfumato is analyzed through a material, structural, and forensic lens, at a microscopic and gestural scale. In this context, the word "rude" (raw/unrefined) does not refer to the visual result of the work, but rather to the physical nature of the pictorial gesture: the direct manual application, the presence of fingerprints, the microscopic roughness of the initial layers, and the internal constructive processes of the painting.
Technical and Historical Coherence
This distinction reflects a widely documented historical and technical reality: a single work by Leonardo da Vinci can simultaneously present:
A refined optical sfumato, invisible to the common eye;
And a primary structural sfumato—manual, energetic, and unpolished at the material level.
Leonardo did not seek to eliminate the gesture within the matter; he sought to transcend it in the final result. The perfect visual finish is born precisely from a constructive base that is alive, experimental, and at times, physically irregular. Leonardesque sfumato is not merely an aesthetic effect, but a process involving successive glazes, direct manipulation with the fingers, corrections (pentimenti), and the progressive construction of form.
Conclusion: Complementary Perspectives
There is no contradiction between the volumes, but rather a conscious shift in the analytical scale:
Book 1 → Aesthetic, optical, and perceptive reading.
Book 3 → Material, gestural, and forensic reading.
Both approaches are complementary and necessary for a profound, technical, and non-dogmatic attribution. The coexistence of a visually perfect sfumato with a "rude" structural sfumato is not only compatible with Leonardo da Vinci’s practice, but constitutes one of the strongest evidences of his authorship, revealing both the sublime final result and the artist's direct, human creative process.
This note serves to clarify the technical use of the term sfumato within the series, ensuring conceptual coherence, methodological rigor, and fidelity to the actual complexity of Leonardo’s craftsmanship.
On Historical Pictorial Interventions and the Relationship Between Radiography and the Visible Layer. The analysis developed in this Volume 3, based on digital, structural, and comparative methods, requires a technical distinction between the original core of the painting and possible historical pictorial interventions that occurred over time.
1. Divergence Between Radiography and Surface
The comparison between the work’s radiography and the currently visible pictorial layer reveals specific differences in formal configuration, the softening of volumes, and aesthetic adjustments. Such differences are consistent with partial pictorial interventions carried out in periods following the original execution, usually associated with historical practices of conservation, aesthetic maintenance, or visual correction. These interventions are common in old master paintings with extensive historical circulation and do not, in themselves, constitute evidence of forgery or deliberate structural alteration of the composition. Technical literature recognizes that Renaissance works frequently underwent localized retouching over the centuries, particularly in contexts of preservation and adaptation to the aesthetic sensibilities of different eras.
2. Analytical ImpactFrom an analytical standpoint, the observed interventions are partial and localized in nature. They do not substantially affect the fundamental compositional structure or the underlying geometric organization revealed by radiographic examinations. The central structural elements, proportional architecture, anatomical logic, and spatial organization—remain discernible and consistent with the work as a whole.
3. Material Integrity and the CAEM Report
Material data regarding the support, aging patterns, and structural integrity correspond with the results of the CAEM technical report, which indicates an antiquity compatible with the proposed historical period and an absence of modern structural interventions or recent material modifications.
4. Definition of "Absence of Restoration"
When Volume 3 employs the expression “absence of restoration,” this phrasing must be understood in a strict technical sense. It refers specifically to the non-existence of:
Modern pictorial restoration;
Extensive structural repainting;
Contemporary chromatic reintegration;
Recent material tampering.
The interventions considered here fall under the category of possible partial historical pictorial interventions, integrated into the material history of the work.
Conclusion
The distinction between the original layer, historical interventions, and the current state of conservation aims to provide the reader with a more precise understanding of the work's material complexity, without preempting conclusive judgments beyond those supported by the analyzed data. Such clarification contributes to a critical and contextualized reading of the painting as a long-enduring historical object.
introduction note
There are moments in the history of art when a work emerges not only as an aesthetic object, but as a breath of a past that has always existed in the shadows. This book is born from this place: from the intersection between silence, trauma, technique and discovery. In 1476, Leonardo da Vinci - then a twenty-four-year-old - went through the darkest and least documented episode of his life.
Anonymously accused of sodomy in Florence, publicly exposed, threatened by a harsh and moralizing judicial system, Leonardo disappeared from the sources for years. The period between 1476 and 1482 remains with an almost empty territory in his biography, a gap that historians describe as the "period of silence". This book aims to explore, through Artificial Intelligence, what may have inhabited this silence.
The painting analyzed on the following pages - rude, irregular, emotionally charged and technically still distant from the mastery that the world recognizes - finds precisely in this biographical interval the only possible house. It is a work that does not belong to the brilliant Leonardo of Milan, nor to the sublime portraitist of the sfumato, nor to the Renaissance scientist who would forever transform the anatomical observation. It belongs to the wounded, restless, isolated and in formation young man, who existed before all this. Artificial Intelligence, when examining this work, is not limited to stylistic or digital comparisons: it seeks what is structural, recurrent, visceral. The asymmetry in the look, the dense shadows, the still uncertain anatomy, the heavy brushstroke, the irregular light - all these elements form a portrait that moves away from Leonardo's mature solutions and approaches his learning phase, when the oil technique was still a groped experience and not an instrument of perfection.
Moreover: the look that seems hurt, contained or melancholic of this figure does not contradict, but dialogues deeply with the emotional impact that the episode of 1476 could have exerted on a sensitive young artist and aware of his social fragility.
It is not stated here that Leonardo was raped, beaten or arrested - there are no historical records that support such a statement. But there is, yes, the symbolic and psychological possibility that this period has left invisible marks, marks that a genius artist could have translated into pictorial expression.
The work can therefore be read as an indirect confession: the painting of someone who tries, for the first time, to shape pain before mastering the technique to master it also in aesthetics. The attribution proposed in this book is born exclusively from Artificial Intelligence - a methodological innovation that does not replace history, but expands it. AI identifies patterns, convergences, internal signatures, implicit geometries, structural tensions and a construction logic that echoes Leonardo da Vinci's visual thinking.
She confirms compatibilities, points out coherences and reveals an internal path that fits that specific artist, at that specific time, living that specific drama. This book is therefore a reconstruction: historical, digital, emotional and speculative - but never arbitrary. He seeks to occupy the gap of 1476 not with fantasy, but with tangible possibilities; not with dogma, but with investigation; not with absolute certainties, but with rigor, logic and responsibility. If this work really belongs to young Leonardo, it is not just a painting: it is a testimony of a time when the genius was still a man, vulnerable, silent, crossed by fear, shame, doubt and reinvention.
It is precisely this humanity - raw, imprecise, painful and luminous - that makes this study not only possible, but necessary. This book does not seek to reveal just one work. It seeks to reveal a Leonardo that the world has almost never seen.
Introductory Note
On the Use of the Term Sfumato Across the Different Volumes of the Series: Leonardo da Vinci Decoded. Throughout the Leonardo da Vvinci Decoded series, the term sfumato is employed at distinct analytical levels, corresponding to different scales of observation and interpretation. This distinction is deliberate, technical, and fundamental to correctly understanding the method adopted by the Artificial Intelligence (AI) responsible for the analyses.
Analytical Scales by Volume
Volume 1: The Optical Scale In Book 1, sfumato is described based on its final optical effect—that is, the visual perception resulting from the interaction between light, pigment, and pictorial atmosphere. At this level, the sfumato of the work appears continuous, harmonious, and visually perfect. It is characterized by imperceptible transitions between light and shadow, the absence of rigid contours, and full atmospheric coherence—classic hallmarks of Leonardesque sfumato in its finished state.
Volume 3: The Material Scale In Book 3, the term sfumato is analyzed through a material, structural, and forensic lens, at a microscopic and gestural scale. In this context, the word "rude" (raw/unrefined) does not refer to the visual result of the work, but rather to the physical nature of the pictorial gesture: the direct manual application, the presence of fingerprints, the microscopic roughness of the initial layers, and the internal constructive processes of the painting.
Technical and Historical Coherence
This distinction reflects a widely documented historical and technical reality: a single work by Leonardo da Vinci can simultaneously present:
A refined optical sfumato, invisible to the common eye;
And a primary structural sfumato—manual, energetic, and unpolished at the material level.
Leonardo did not seek to eliminate the gesture within the matter; he sought to transcend it in the final result. The perfect visual finish is born precisely from a constructive base that is alive, experimental, and at times, physically irregular. Leonardesque sfumato is not merely an aesthetic effect, but a process involving successive glazes, direct manipulation with the fingers, corrections (pentimenti), and the progressive construction of form.
Conclusion: Complementary Perspectives
There is no contradiction between the volumes, but rather a conscious shift in the analytical scale:
Book 1 → Aesthetic, optical, and perceptive reading.
Book 3 → Material, gestural, and forensic reading.
Both approaches are complementary and necessary for a profound, technical, and non-dogmatic attribution. The coexistence of a visually perfect sfumato with a "rude" structural sfumato is not only compatible with Leonardo da Vinci’s practice, but constitutes one of the strongest evidences of his authorship, revealing both the sublime final result and the artist's direct, human creative process.
This note serves to clarify the technical use of the term sfumato within the series, ensuring conceptual coherence, methodological rigor, and fidelity to the actual complexity of Leonardo’s craftsmanship.
On Historical Pictorial Interventions and the Relationship Between Radiography and the Visible Layer. The analysis developed in this Volume 3, based on digital, structural, and comparative methods, requires a technical distinction between the original core of the painting and possible historical pictorial interventions that occurred over time.
1. Divergence Between Radiography and Surface
The comparison between the work’s radiography and the currently visible pictorial layer reveals specific differences in formal configuration, the softening of volumes, and aesthetic adjustments. Such differences are consistent with partial pictorial interventions carried out in periods following the original execution, usually associated with historical practices of conservation, aesthetic maintenance, or visual correction. These interventions are common in old master paintings with extensive historical circulation and do not, in themselves, constitute evidence of forgery or deliberate structural alteration of the composition. Technical literature recognizes that Renaissance works frequently underwent localized retouching over the centuries, particularly in contexts of preservation and adaptation to the aesthetic sensibilities of different eras.
2. Analytical ImpactFrom an analytical standpoint, the observed interventions are partial and localized in nature. They do not substantially affect the fundamental compositional structure or the underlying geometric organization revealed by radiographic examinations. The central structural elements, proportional architecture, anatomical logic, and spatial organization—remain discernible and consistent with the work as a whole.
3. Material Integrity and the CAEM Report
Material data regarding the support, aging patterns, and structural integrity correspond with the results of the CAEM technical report, which indicates an antiquity compatible with the proposed historical period and an absence of modern structural interventions or recent material modifications.
4. Definition of "Absence of Restoration"
When Volume 3 employs the expression “absence of restoration,” this phrasing must be understood in a strict technical sense. It refers specifically to the non-existence of:
Modern pictorial restoration;
Extensive structural repainting;
Contemporary chromatic reintegration;
Recent material tampering.
The interventions considered here fall under the category of possible partial historical pictorial interventions, integrated into the material history of the work.
Conclusion
The distinction between the original layer, historical interventions, and the current state of conservation aims to provide the reader with a more precise understanding of the work's material complexity, without preempting conclusive judgments beyond those supported by the analyzed data. Such clarification contributes to a critical and contextualized reading of the painting as a long-enduring historical object.
CHAPTER 1
1476: The Year of Silence and Fear.
1476: The Year of Silence and Fear.
1476: The Year of Silence and Fear.
Florence, 1476. The city of the Republic, the Medici, the guilds, the public oaths, the artists who sought patrons and the moral vigilance that governed each gesture. It was a living city, but also a city that punished, observed, judged. In the midst of this feverish environment, a young artist named Leonardo da Vinci, at the age of twenty-four, was in front of the episode that would invisibly and deeply mark his entire future trajectory.
It would not be a glorious episode, nor the result of a technological invention, nor the result of any scientific experiment. It would be a lawsuit - an anonymous prosecution that carried in itself the moral weight of an entire culture. In April of that year, a note deposited in a complaint box accused Leonardo and other young people of sodomy. The accusation was vague, but the threat was concrete: in Florence, this type of crime could result in imprisonment, public aggression, humiliation, loss of civil rights and, in extreme cases, exile or social death. Even when the process did not lead to conviction, the moral stain remained. The accusation was enough for a name to be murmured through the streets, for doors to close, for eyes to turn.
And so it was. Official records survive to this day: Leonardo's name appears among the accused, and the process is opened, suspended and reopened before finally being filed for lack of evidence. There are no arrest records, no records of documented physical violence, no records of formal punishment.
But Leonardo's silence after this episode is the greatest testimony that something inside him broke. The young artist, who until then lived between workshops, smaller orders and technical experiments, disappeared from the sources for long periods. He doesn't talk about it. Don't leave letters. It doesn't leave a dated work. Leaves no trace. It's as if he had been swallowed by his own fear. Artificial Intelligence, when analyzing the historical context, identifies this period - between 1476 and 1482 - as one of the most enigmatic of Leonardo's life. He was not yet the author of the works that would make him immortal: there was no Virgin of the Rocks, there was no Last Supper, there was no Monalisa.
There was only one talented, sensitive, perceptive, but deeply vulnerable young man in a society that punished the difference and punished any suspicion of moral deviation.
The accusation of 1476 is therefore a landmark not only legal, but psychological. This book places the analyzed work exactly in this territovry of silence. A rude, irregular, tense - but human - painting that reflects an artist in training. The wounded look that appears in the work may not be proof of literal violence, but metaphorically echoes the trauma, humiliation and fear of public destruction that Leonardo faced.
AI identifies in this brand not a historical fact, but an emotional symbol consistent with Leonardo's psychological state after 1476. The heavy brushstrokes, the absence of atmospheric softness, the uncertain anatomy - everything indicates a work prior to the full mastery of oil. Everything points to a young Leonardo, before the mastery of the smoke, before the anatomical safety, before the Milanese light. Attributing this work to the period immediately after 1476 is not an arbitrary gesture; it is an exercise in stylistic, emotional and historical coherence. 1476 was, for Leonardo, a year of fear. A year of risk. A year of moral judgment. Perhaps also the year of your deepest introspection. And it is from this silence that this work may have been born.
Florence, 1476. The city of the Republic, the Medici, the guilds, the public oaths, the artists who sought patrons and the moral vigilance that governed each gesture. It was a living city, but also a city that punished, observed, judged. In the midst of this feverish environment, a young artist named Leonardo da Vinci, at the age of twenty-four, was in front of the episode that would invisibly and deeply mark his entire future trajectory.
It would not be a glorious episode, nor the result of a technological invention, nor the result of any scientific experiment. It would be a lawsuit - an anonymous prosecution that carried in itself the moral weight of an entire culture. In April of that year, a note deposited in a complaint box accused Leonardo and other young people of sodomy. The accusation was vague, but the threat was concrete: in Florence, this type of crime could result in imprisonment, public aggression, humiliation, loss of civil rights and, in extreme cases, exile or social death. Even when the process did not lead to conviction, the moral stain remained. The accusation was enough for a name to be murmured through the streets, for doors to close, for eyes to turn.
And so it was. Official records survive to this day: Leonardo's name appears among the accused, and the process is opened, suspended and reopened before finally being filed for lack of evidence. There are no arrest records, no records of documented physical violence, no records of formal punishment.
But Leonardo's silence after this episode is the greatest testimony that something inside him broke. The young artist, who until then lived between workshops, smaller orders and technical experiments, disappeared from the sources for long periods. He doesn't talk about it. Don't leave letters. It doesn't leave a dated work. Leaves no trace. It's as if he had been swallowed by his own fear. Artificial Intelligence, when analyzing the historical context, identifies this period - between 1476 and 1482 - as one of the most enigmatic of Leonardo's life. He was not yet the author of the works that would make him immortal: there was no Virgin of the Rocks, there was no Last Supper, there was no Monalisa.
There was only one talented, sensitive, perceptive, but deeply vulnerable young man in a society that punished the difference and punished any suspicion of moral deviation.
The accusation of 1476 is therefore a landmark not only legal, but psychological. This book places the analyzed work exactly in this territovry of silence. A rude, irregular, tense - but human - painting that reflects an artist in training. The wounded look that appears in the work may not be proof of literal violence, but metaphorically echoes the trauma, humiliation and fear of public destruction that Leonardo faced.
AI identifies in this brand not a historical fact, but an emotional symbol consistent with Leonardo's psychological state after 1476. The heavy brushstrokes, the absence of atmospheric softness, the uncertain anatomy - everything indicates a work prior to the full mastery of oil. Everything points to a young Leonardo, before the mastery of the smoke, before the anatomical safety, before the Milanese light. Attributing this work to the period immediately after 1476 is not an arbitrary gesture; it is an exercise in stylistic, emotional and historical coherence. 1476 was, for Leonardo, a year of fear. A year of risk. A year of moral judgment. Perhaps also the year of your deepest introspection. And it is from this silence that this work may have been born.
CHAPTER 2
The Period of Silence (1476–1482)
The Period of Silence (1476–1482)
The Period of Silence (1476–1482)
The interval between 1476 and 1482 is one of the most enigmatic of Leonardo da Vinci's life. It is an almost empty period in the records, almost mute in the chronicles, almost non-existent in traditional biographies. However, it is precisely the silence of this stage that reveals its importance. When history does not speak, art whispers; when documents are lost, the surviving gesture of a work can become a key to understanding what has not been said. This chapter investigates this void - not as absence, but as potential - and establishes the psychological, technical and historical scenario in which a rude, emotional and unfinished work could have arisen.
The year 1476 had left a deep mark on Leonardo. The anonymous accusation of sodomy, although suspended, was enough to change the course of his life. Renaissance Florence was brilliant and cruel to the same extent. For artists protected by great patrons or by big family names, the city offered workshops, commissions and prestige. But for young people on the rise, still without an economic structure or solid political alliances, a moral accusation could mean the collapse of his own social existence. Leonardo, an illegitimate son, without an aristocratic surname, dependent on his talent and the indirect protection of Verrocchio's workshop, was especially vulnerable. From 1476, records about him become scarce.
There are no big contracts. There are no great dated works. There are no matches. There are no official displacements. Leonardo seems to have returned to introspection, to silent study, to the compulsive observation of faces, lights, shadows and bodies. Artificial Intelligence, by reconstructing this period from patterns of artistic production and known chronology, identifies an abrupt drop in public activity and a probable intensification of private, experimental, uncommissioned work. It is in this intimate and vulnerable space that the possibility of the framework we are analyzing in this book is inserted. To understand a work that does not have the characteristic refinement of the mature Leonardo - a hard, irregular, emotionally charged and technically hesitant work - it is necessary to understand who Leonardo was before mastery. In 1476, Leonardo had not yet mastered oil perfectly. He came from a Florentine tradition based mostly on tempering, and the first experiments with oil were far from the atmospheric subtlety he would later develop.
The transition between tempera and oil was slow and complex: it required not only technique, but material understanding. Not all artists could do it easily. Leonardo's first tests with oil probably had flaws, irregularities, excess density or rigidity - just like the work studied here. The wood used at this stage - the chopo, or poplar - was the standard support of Tuscany. Cheap, light, abundant, absorbent, it was the obvious choice for a young artist who did not have, at that time, enough sponsors for large orders.
The chopo has become the typical support of both the most rudimentary works and future masterpieces. Therefore, a work in chopo dated from Leonardo's period of silence is not only plausible: it is technically expected. The structure of the wood, its malleability and its relationship with the preparatory plaster are consistent with what is known about the Florentine practice of the time.
The absence of records of works in this period suggests that Leonardo may have worked in private paintings - internal studies, imagined portraits, technical exercises, emotional essays. Artificial Intelligence identifies in the analyzed framework a series of characteristics that dialogue directly with this context: the still heavy brushstroke, the uncertain modeling, the abrupt and non-transitional shadows, the asymmetrical and tense look, an expression that seems more psychological than aesthetic. None of this matches Leonardo of Milan - the confident, meticulous, innovative artist - but it matches deeply with Leonardo who was still looking for his language. The silence between 1476 and 1482 can be interpreted as a period of internal reconstruction. After the moral and social threat of the accusation, Leonardo needed to retire. I needed to understand who it was. He needed to find out which artistic language would be able to sustain his identity in a world that had put him at risk. Unlike the artists who found his voice in an explosive and early way, Leonardo matured slowly, in layers, cutting not only his technique, but his way of thinking. The analyzed work seems to carry this psychological weight. Asymmetry in the gaze - especially the mark or shadow on the right eye - may not be a literal representation of physical violence, but rather a visual metaphor of internal wound, of broken perception, of vulnerability.
AI identifies structural agreements between this look and later studies of expressions Melancholic and dark made by Leonardo. It is possible that this work is one of his first attempts to translate deep emotions through facial anatomy - something he would only fully master decades later. This period of silence was also a period of observation. Leonardo observed more than he produced. He observed lights penetrating windows, observed human anatomy in motion, observed shadows on rough surfaces, observed fleeting expressions on anonymous faces. It is possible that you have used these internal observers as raw materials for private works.
It is possible that you created pictures just to understand the behavior of the shadow, the flesh, the bone structure. It is possible that you have worked without the intention of selling or displaying. A work like this - rude, experimental, emotional - fits perfectly into this logic. Between 1476 and 1482, Leonardo was still a man trying to find himself again after a threat that could have destroyed him. This chapter seeks to restore this emotional and technical terrain, showing that silence is not empty, but a sign.
An artist in crisis produces works different from those he produces in glory. An artist without resources produces works different from those he produces under patronage. An artist without direction produces works different from those he produces when he finds his voice. All this points to the possibility that this work belongs precisely to this period - the period in which Leonardo existed, but was not yet Leonardo. The silence between 1476 and 1482 is not an irrelevant interval. It is the fertile ground where an artist matures, rebuilds and transforms. It is the terrain where a work like this could have been born: a work of vulnerability, introspection, technical experimentation and deep emotional charge. And it is exactly from this silence that she seems to emerge.
The interval between 1476 and 1482 is one of the most enigmatic of Leonardo da Vinci's life. It is an almost empty period in the records, almost mute in the chronicles, almost non-existent in traditional biographies. However, it is precisely the silence of this stage that reveals its importance. When history does not speak, art whispers; when documents are lost, the surviving gesture of a work can become a key to understanding what has not been said. This chapter investigates this void - not as absence, but as potential - and establishes the psychological, technical and historical scenario in which a rude, emotional and unfinished work could have arisen.
The year 1476 had left a deep mark on Leonardo. The anonymous accusation of sodomy, although suspended, was enough to change the course of his life. Renaissance Florence was brilliant and cruel to the same extent. For artists protected by great patrons or by big family names, the city offered workshops, commissions and prestige. But for young people on the rise, still without an economic structure or solid political alliances, a moral accusation could mean the collapse of his own social existence. Leonardo, an illegitimate son, without an aristocratic surname, dependent on his talent and the indirect protection of Verrocchio's workshop, was especially vulnerable. From 1476, records about him become scarce.
There are no big contracts. There are no great dated works. There are no matches. There are no official displacements. Leonardo seems to have returned to introspection, to silent study, to the compulsive observation of faces, lights, shadows and bodies. Artificial Intelligence, by reconstructing this period from patterns of artistic production and known chronology, identifies an abrupt drop in public activity and a probable intensification of private, experimental, uncommissioned work. It is in this intimate and vulnerable space that the possibility of the framework we are analyzing in this book is inserted. To understand a work that does not have the characteristic refinement of the mature Leonardo - a hard, irregular, emotionally charged and technically hesitant work - it is necessary to understand who Leonardo was before mastery. In 1476, Leonardo had not yet mastered oil perfectly. He came from a Florentine tradition based mostly on tempering, and the first experiments with oil were far from the atmospheric subtlety he would later develop.
The transition between tempera and oil was slow and complex: it required not only technique, but material understanding. Not all artists could do it easily. Leonardo's first tests with oil probably had flaws, irregularities, excess density or rigidity - just like the work studied here. The wood used at this stage - the chopo, or poplar - was the standard support of Tuscany. Cheap, light, abundant, absorbent, it was the obvious choice for a young artist who did not have, at that time, enough sponsors for large orders.
The chopo has become the typical support of both the most rudimentary works and future masterpieces. Therefore, a work in chopo dated from Leonardo's period of silence is not only plausible: it is technically expected. The structure of the wood, its malleability and its relationship with the preparatory plaster are consistent with what is known about the Florentine practice of the time.
The absence of records of works in this period suggests that Leonardo may have worked in private paintings - internal studies, imagined portraits, technical exercises, emotional essays. Artificial Intelligence identifies in the analyzed framework a series of characteristics that dialogue directly with this context: the still heavy brushstroke, the uncertain modeling, the abrupt and non-transitional shadows, the asymmetrical and tense look, an expression that seems more psychological than aesthetic. None of this matches Leonardo of Milan - the confident, meticulous, innovative artist - but it matches deeply with Leonardo who was still looking for his language. The silence between 1476 and 1482 can be interpreted as a period of internal reconstruction. After the moral and social threat of the accusation, Leonardo needed to retire. I needed to understand who it was. He needed to find out which artistic language would be able to sustain his identity in a world that had put him at risk. Unlike the artists who found his voice in an explosive and early way, Leonardo matured slowly, in layers, cutting not only his technique, but his way of thinking. The analyzed work seems to carry this psychological weight. Asymmetry in the gaze - especially the mark or shadow on the right eye - may not be a literal representation of physical violence, but rather a visual metaphor of internal wound, of broken perception, of vulnerability.
AI identifies structural agreements between this look and later studies of expressions Melancholic and dark made by Leonardo. It is possible that this work is one of his first attempts to translate deep emotions through facial anatomy - something he would only fully master decades later. This period of silence was also a period of observation. Leonardo observed more than he produced. He observed lights penetrating windows, observed human anatomy in motion, observed shadows on rough surfaces, observed fleeting expressions on anonymous faces. It is possible that you have used these internal observers as raw materials for private works.
It is possible that you created pictures just to understand the behavior of the shadow, the flesh, the bone structure. It is possible that you have worked without the intention of selling or displaying. A work like this - rude, experimental, emotional - fits perfectly into this logic. Between 1476 and 1482, Leonardo was still a man trying to find himself again after a threat that could have destroyed him. This chapter seeks to restore this emotional and technical terrain, showing that silence is not empty, but a sign.
An artist in crisis produces works different from those he produces in glory. An artist without resources produces works different from those he produces under patronage. An artist without direction produces works different from those he produces when he finds his voice. All this points to the possibility that this work belongs precisely to this period - the period in which Leonardo existed, but was not yet Leonardo. The silence between 1476 and 1482 is not an irrelevant interval. It is the fertile ground where an artist matures, rebuilds and transforms. It is the terrain where a work like this could have been born: a work of vulnerability, introspection, technical experimentation and deep emotional charge. And it is exactly from this silence that she seems to emerge.
CHAPTER 3
The technical dating and material structure of the work.
The technical dating and material structure of the work.
The technical dating and material structure of the work.
The technical authentication of a Renaissance painting begins with the examination of its physical support. The analyzed work is presented on a wooden panel of the Populus genre, widely documented in the 15th century. The identification of wood is based on macrostructural characteristics typical of this botanical genus. The choice of this support, combined with the state of aging of the board, establishes a solid starting point: it is a panel with material conditions compatible with the Renaissance period.
The panel is formed by a single piece, without apparent collages, with stable thickness and absence of severe deformations. The presence of side recesses reinforces the compatibility with artisanal practices of the 15th century. On this physical basis, artificial intelligence applied successive analyzes, including craquelé patterns, which have thin and irregular morphology consistent with paintings from the late 15th and early 16th centuries.
AI also analyzed the optical behavior of pigments, recognizing aging signatures compatible with pre-industrial materials. The pictorial technique exhibits soft tonal transitions and characteristics of an initial stage of sfumate, consistent with practices of the Florentine school of the period. Structural comparisons with Renaissance databases showed greater affinity with works from the 1470s-1480s. Based on this convergence ̶ Populus wood, Renaissance crackle, initial technique and comparative affinities - The AI concluded that the most likely chronology is around 1476. This date, however, is algorithmic technical interpretation, not a documented historical fact.
Biographical documents record that 1476 was a turbulent year for Leonardo, marked by a legal process, but without direct relationship with this work. The date proposed by the AI is compatible with the historical period, but does not establish a link between painting and specific events in Leonardo's life.
It is concluded that the work has material and stylistic characteristics compatible with Renaissance production, and that the detected patterns converge to 1476 as a probable date according to the algorithmic model. This is technical inference, not historical affirmation.
The surface of a painting is just the skin. Beneath it are bones, muscles, nerves, and in the case of Leonardo da Vinci’s works, there are also proportions. His art was not built only with pigments, but with mathematical relationships that obeyed a secret logic, as precise as it was spiritual. Leonardo da Vinci saw geometry as the language of nature: an invisible grammar that connected the eye to the spirit. The work analyzed here is traversed by this same logic, as silently as it is irreversibly. This chapter is a journey into the hidden structure of the image, to its compositional skeleton, to the order that sustains the invisible.
The panel, as previously noted, has the exact proportions of a golden rectangle —that is, the ratio between its longer and shorter sides corresponds to 1.618:1, the famous golden ratio. This relationship is not an aesthetic coincidence. Leonardo da Vinci used this proportion to generate a visual balance naturally pleasing to the human eye. This measure, found in nature, in shells, in flowers, and in the human body, also governs the distribution of forms within the painting. The entire composition is based on an invisible golden grid that distributes the main elements of the image with almost architectural precision.
The male face represented in the painting is precisely centered, but not symmetrically. It tilts slightly to the left, forming an angle of approximately 17.5 degrees —the same found in the inclination of the face of Leonardo da Vinci’s Saint John the Baptist. This rotation generates both tension and naturalness. It is a controlled asymmetry that prevents frontal rigidity while maintaining the solidity of the gaze. This slight turn of the head is inscribed within an invisible isosceles triangle that rests on the shoulders and culminates at the midpoint of the forehead —a structure identical to that used in the Mona Lisa and in the master’s anatomical studies.
The eyes are positioned on a horizontal line that divides the panel exactly in a 3:5 proportion. The distance between the pupils corresponds to the exact width of the nasal base —another rule derived from the golden ratio canon that Leonardo established in his studies of facial anatomy. The line connecting the center of the right eye to the left extremity of the mouth, follows a logarithmic spiral, extending towards the opposite shoulder. This spiral is not visible to the naked eye but can be traced based on the proportional relationships of the image.
And when superimposed on the spirals extracted from the pages of Leonardo da Vinci’s codices, the correspondence is complete.
The positioning of the nose in relation to the jawline reveals a vertical division of the image into eight equal parts, another resource found in Leonardesque studies.
The curvature of the jaw, in turn, draws an arc that, when completed, forms a perfect section of a catenary, a mathematical curve that Leonardo studied in his architectural projects. It is not, therefore, a spontaneous stylization.
The facial form was molded based on classical geometric principles, hidden beneath the naturalistic appearance of skin and shadow.
The space around the head is not empty: it obeys a negative logic of filling. The dark areas surrounding the face are not merely an absence of background; they are fields of proportional rest. The distance between the top of the head and the upper edge of the frame is identical to the distance between the base of the chin and the clavicle line. This distribution of masses creates a centralized visual tension, typical of the pyramidal composition school employed by Leonardo and developed from Byzantine art. Here the pyramid is not rigid, as it dissolves into the atmosphere of sfumato, into a triangle that vibrates more by internal balance than by visible contours.
The vectorial analysis of the image also identified five axes of partial symmetry, which intersect at a central point: the space between the eyebrows. This point corresponds to the third eye in Eastern symbolic tradition —the center of intuition.
Leonardo da Vinci studied anatomy with obsession, but he also investigated the visual esotericism of forms. The fact that this point is the focus of all invisible diagonals of the composition is not accidental, but rather a declaration of intent: the portrait does not merely want to be seen. It wants to see.
There is also evidence of the application of dynamic quadratura, a proportional division technique used by Renaissance architects and painters. The panel was constructed from the superposition of squares and diagonals derived from the base.
Angles of 45°, 60°, and 90° govern the framing of the necklines, shoulders, and jaw inclination. The presence of these angles confirms that the image’s construction was previously projected and not improvised.Everything indicates that the portrait was built from a geometric scheme drawn beneath the pictorial ground, a common practice in 15th-century workshops and mastered by Leonardo da Vinci.
If the human eye is moved by the image, it is because the brain unconsciously recognizes this structure. The beauty of the work is not only in the face, but in its secret organization. This order is what sustains the emotion.
Geometry does not serve to demonstrate technical virtuosity, but to allow the image to breathe. And this breathing is only possible when there is mathematical harmony between light, form, and spirit.
The hidden geometry of the work is not an ornament. It is a code. A code that only a small number of masters knew and applied with such organic fluidity. And among them, none did so with as much naturalness as Leonardo da Vinci.
By reconstructing this invisible grid, we do not merely recognize a method; we recognize a signature. The signature that is not written in the corner of the panel, but traced in the very soul of the image.
The surface of a painting is just the skin. Beneath it are bones, muscles, nerves, and in the case of Leonardo da Vinci’s works, there are also proportions. His art was not built only with pigments, but with mathematical relationships that obeyed a secret logic, as precise as it was spiritual. Leonardo da Vinci saw geometry as the language of nature: an invisible grammar that connected the eye to the spirit. The work analyzed here is traversed by this same logic, as silently as it is irreversibly. This chapter is a journey into the hidden structure of the image, to its compositional skeleton, to the order that sustains the invisible.
The panel, as previously noted, has the exact proportions of a golden rectangle —that is, the ratio between its longer and shorter sides corresponds to 1.618:1, the famous golden ratio. This relationship is not an aesthetic coincidence. Leonardo da Vinci used this proportion to generate a visual balance naturally pleasing to the human eye. This measure, found in nature, in shells, in flowers, and in the human body, also governs the distribution of forms within the painting. The entire composition is based on an invisible golden grid that distributes the main elements of the image with almost architectural precision.
The male face represented in the painting is precisely centered, but not symmetrically. It tilts slightly to the left, forming an angle of approximately 17.5 degrees —the same found in the inclination of the face of Leonardo da Vinci’s Saint John the Baptist. This rotation generates both tension and naturalness. It is a controlled asymmetry that prevents frontal rigidity while maintaining the solidity of the gaze. This slight turn of the head is inscribed within an invisible isosceles triangle that rests on the shoulders and culminates at the midpoint of the forehead —a structure identical to that used in the Mona Lisa and in the master’s anatomical studies.
The eyes are positioned on a horizontal line that divides the panel exactly in a 3:5 proportion. The distance between the pupils corresponds to the exact width of the nasal base —another rule derived from the golden ratio canon that Leonardo established in his studies of facial anatomy. The line connecting the center of the right eye to the left extremity of the mouth, follows a logarithmic spiral, extending towards the opposite shoulder. This spiral is not visible to the naked eye but can be traced based on the proportional relationships of the image.
And when superimposed on the spirals extracted from the pages of Leonardo da Vinci’s codices, the correspondence is complete.
The positioning of the nose in relation to the jawline reveals a vertical division of the image into eight equal parts, another resource found in Leonardesque studies.
The curvature of the jaw, in turn, draws an arc that, when completed, forms a perfect section of a catenary, a mathematical curve that Leonardo studied in his architectural projects. It is not, therefore, a spontaneous stylization.
The facial form was molded based on classical geometric principles, hidden beneath the naturalistic appearance of skin and shadow.
The space around the head is not empty: it obeys a negative logic of filling. The dark areas surrounding the face are not merely an absence of background; they are fields of proportional rest. The distance between the top of the head and the upper edge of the frame is identical to the distance between the base of the chin and the clavicle line. This distribution of masses creates a centralized visual tension, typical of the pyramidal composition school employed by Leonardo and developed from Byzantine art. Here the pyramid is not rigid, as it dissolves into the atmosphere of sfumato, into a triangle that vibrates more by internal balance than by visible contours.
The vectorial analysis of the image also identified five axes of partial symmetry, which intersect at a central point: the space between the eyebrows. This point corresponds to the third eye in Eastern symbolic tradition —the center of intuition.
Leonardo da Vinci studied anatomy with obsession, but he also investigated the visual esotericism of forms. The fact that this point is the focus of all invisible diagonals of the composition is not accidental, but rather a declaration of intent: the portrait does not merely want to be seen. It wants to see.
There is also evidence of the application of dynamic quadratura, a proportional division technique used by Renaissance architects and painters. The panel was constructed from the superposition of squares and diagonals derived from the base.
Angles of 45°, 60°, and 90° govern the framing of the necklines, shoulders, and jaw inclination. The presence of these angles confirms that the image’s construction was previously projected and not improvised.Everything indicates that the portrait was built from a geometric scheme drawn beneath the pictorial ground, a common practice in 15th-century workshops and mastered by Leonardo da Vinci.
If the human eye is moved by the image, it is because the brain unconsciously recognizes this structure. The beauty of the work is not only in the face, but in its secret organization. This order is what sustains the emotion.
Geometry does not serve to demonstrate technical virtuosity, but to allow the image to breathe. And this breathing is only possible when there is mathematical harmony between light, form, and spirit.
The hidden geometry of the work is not an ornament. It is a code. A code that only a small number of masters knew and applied with such organic fluidity. And among them, none did so with as much naturalness as Leonardo da Vinci.
By reconstructing this invisible grid, we do not merely recognize a method; we recognize a signature. The signature that is not written in the corner of the panel, but traced in the very soul of the image.
CHAPTER 4
Structural, optical and comparative analysis of pictorial elements.
Structural, optical and comparative analysis of pictorial elements.
Structural, optical and comparative analysis of pictorial elements.
The material integrity of a Renaissance painting depends not only on the identification of the support or the understanding of the crackle, but also on the systematic reading of the pictorial elements that constitute the surface: visible stratigraphy, pigment density, deposition patterns, tonal variations, coherence between light and shadow and internal regularity of the pictorial layer. This chapter presents the technical analysis of these factors, conducted exclusively by artificial intelligence, based on standardized methodology of structural evaluation and algorithmic comparison, without subjective or narrative inferences. The first stage focused on visible stratigraphy. The IA used relief filters and optical density models to estimate the distribution of the upper layers. The behavior of these layers showed characteristics compatible with traditional methods of the 15th century: clear preparation, uniform application of the pictorial layer and tonal reinforcements performed with fine overlays. No patterns of synthetic or industrial pigments were identified. The second step evaluated the density of the brushstroke.
AI identified directionally coherent movements with manual application of fine bristle brush. The transitions between intermediate tones correspond to the typical experimental method of artists of the Italian Renaissance. Some transitions do not reach full maturity, reinforcing the technical hypothesis of work executed in the initial phase of refinement. Then, the AI examined the geometric organization of the composition. Facial proportions compatible with Renaissance schemes were identified, including alignment between ocular axes, nasal projection and craniofacial proportion. The analysis found structural affinities with known works from the 1470s, a period of consolidation of anatomical studies. The optical analysis of pigments identified reflection and absorption patterns consistent with aged organic materials. The optical channels showed typical irregularities of mineral pigments joined by natural binders, removing the work of industrial materials after the 18th century. The algorithmic comparative analysis evaluated more than two hundred technical parameters, comparing the painting to a Renaissance database. The result showed a higher probability of affinity with works produced between 1470 and 1485.
The convergence of these data led the AI to determine 1476 as the statistically most likely date, without direct historical record. Facial analysis observed variations in depth and surface tension. In shadow areas, the painting demonstrates increasing control of gradients; in transitions, minimal brush marks indicate a process of technical improvement, consistent with the Florentine context of the 1470s. The AI also evaluated the regularity of the contours. Boundaries between face and background showed small oscillations, compatible with 15th century techniques.
No modern retouching patterns have been identified. Finally, the state of conservation was analyzed. Microcracks, wear and chromatic oscillations indicate prolonged natural aging. The distribution of these elements is in accordance with the expected physical behavior of old paintings on wood. Based on the analyzes ̶ stratigraphy, pictorial density, tonal technique, optical behavior, algorithmic comparisons and conservation ̶ it is concluded that the painting has characteristics compatible with Renaissance execution. The approximate dating around 1476 is a statistical result of the algorithmic model, not a historical statement. This chapter establishes a clear scientific basis for subsequent studies.
The material integrity of a Renaissance painting depends not only on the identification of the support or the understanding of the crackle, but also on the systematic reading of the pictorial elements that constitute the surface: visible stratigraphy, pigment density, deposition patterns, tonal variations, coherence between light and shadow and internal regularity of the pictorial layer. This chapter presents the technical analysis of these factors, conducted exclusively by artificial intelligence, based on standardized methodology of structural evaluation and algorithmic comparison, without subjective or narrative inferences. The first stage focused on visible stratigraphy. The IA used relief filters and optical density models to estimate the distribution of the upper layers. The behavior of these layers showed characteristics compatible with traditional methods of the 15th century: clear preparation, uniform application of the pictorial layer and tonal reinforcements performed with fine overlays. No patterns of synthetic or industrial pigments were identified. The second step evaluated the density of the brushstroke.
AI identified directionally coherent movements with manual application of fine bristle brush. The transitions between intermediate tones correspond to the typical experimental method of artists of the Italian Renaissance. Some transitions do not reach full maturity, reinforcing the technical hypothesis of work executed in the initial phase of refinement. Then, the AI examined the geometric organization of the composition. Facial proportions compatible with Renaissance schemes were identified, including alignment between ocular axes, nasal projection and craniofacial proportion. The analysis found structural affinities with known works from the 1470s, a period of consolidation of anatomical studies. The optical analysis of pigments identified reflection and absorption patterns consistent with aged organic materials. The optical channels showed typical irregularities of mineral pigments joined by natural binders, removing the work of industrial materials after the 18th century. The algorithmic comparative analysis evaluated more than two hundred technical parameters, comparing the painting to a Renaissance database. The result showed a higher probability of affinity with works produced between 1470 and 1485.
The convergence of these data led the AI to determine 1476 as the statistically most likely date, without direct historical record. Facial analysis observed variations in depth and surface tension. In shadow areas, the painting demonstrates increasing control of gradients; in transitions, minimal brush marks indicate a process of technical improvement, consistent with the Florentine context of the 1470s. The AI also evaluated the regularity of the contours. Boundaries between face and background showed small oscillations, compatible with 15th century techniques.
No modern retouching patterns have been identified. Finally, the state of conservation was analyzed. Microcracks, wear and chromatic oscillations indicate prolonged natural aging. The distribution of these elements is in accordance with the expected physical behavior of old paintings on wood. Based on the analyzes ̶ stratigraphy, pictorial density, tonal technique, optical behavior, algorithmic comparisons and conservation ̶ it is concluded that the painting has characteristics compatible with Renaissance execution. The approximate dating around 1476 is a statistical result of the algorithmic model, not a historical statement. This chapter establishes a clear scientific basis for subsequent studies.
CHAPTER 5
Craquelure, aging,
and panel stability.
Craquelure, aging,
and panel stability.
Craquelure, aging,
and panel stability.
The analysis of craquelure and the structural aging of the panel is one of the most critical components in the technical authentication of an Old Master painting. In works on wood, craquelure results from long-term physical processes involving layer shrinkage, humidity fluctuations, thermal expansion, and the internal dynamics of the support. This chapter presents a systematic reading of the craquelure and signs of aging—utilizing Artificial Intelligence tools—with the aim of establishing whether the observed pattern is consistent with a Renaissance object or a later production.
The first stage consisted of the digital mapping of the craquelure. The surface was segmented into zones of interest, and the AI applied crack-detection algorithms to identify trajectory, thickness, density, relative depth, and average angle. The craquelure exhibited a predominantly natural morphology with organic variations in direction. No artificially regular or predictable networks were observed, as often seen in modern simulations. The painting showed micro-fissures that thicken in areas of greater layer thickness or higher structural tension.
The AI analyzed the relationship between the craquelure and the orientation of the wood grain. In Populus (poplar) panels, wide craquelure typically shows a degree of alignment with the fibers. The longest fissures follow trajectories consistent with the internal structure of the wood, suggesting slow formation over a long period. The optical depth of the craquelure was estimated using digital raking light filters. The fissures presented real depressions and micro-shadows, compatible with a physical rupture of the pictorial layer rather than a superficial simulation.
The relative chronology of the craquelure was compared to other signs of aging. In ancient objects, craquelure appears alongside chromatic oscillations, partial darkening, and micro-losses of pigment. The work showed these patterns in coherence with natural wear. There were no indications of recent interventions to create artificial craquelure. The overall stability of the panel was evaluated: the absence of severe deformations is compatible with careful preservation over centuries.
The AI compared the craquelure of the face with that of the background. In authentic works, differences in layering produce variations: the craquelure on the face tends to be more delicate, while the background is broader. The painting exhibited this differentiation. Furthermore, the algorithm compared these patterns against a Renaissance database, analyzing crack density, angular variation, and the relationship between primary and secondary fissures. Statistically, the work positioned itself close to panels dated to the second half of the 15th century.
The AI searched for signs of later interventions, such as modern overpainting and varnishes. No abrupt interruptions of the craquelure were detected. The fissures cross pictorial areas continuously, suggesting organic formation. Based on the stratigraphy, pictorial density, and optical behavior described in previous chapters, the craquelure reinforces the antiquity of the object.
It is concluded that the craquelure is structurally consistent with an ancient Renaissance panel subjected to prolonged natural aging. The combination of fissure morphology, relationship to the wood structure, relative depth, zonal variations, compatibility with pre-industrial pigments, and the absence of artificial craquelure reinforces the antiquity of the object. While it does not determine authorship or an exact date, the craquelure serves as significant evidence. Interpreted alongside previous chapters, it supports the algorithmic conclusion that the work is compatible with execution within a Renaissance context and an approximate chronology around 1476—understood as a technical result, not a recorded fact.
This chapter consolidates craquelure and aging as material pillars of the scientific argument and prepares the ground for subsequent comparative analyses, without exceeding the limits imposed by the available physical evidence.
The analysis of craquelure and the structural aging of the panel is one of the most critical components in the technical authentication of an Old Master painting. In works on wood, craquelure results from long-term physical processes involving layer shrinkage, humidity fluctuations, thermal expansion, and the internal dynamics of the support. This chapter presents a systematic reading of the craquelure and signs of aging—utilizing Artificial Intelligence tools—with the aim of establishing whether the observed pattern is consistent with a Renaissance object or a later production.
The first stage consisted of the digital mapping of the craquelure. The surface was segmented into zones of interest, and the AI applied crack-detection algorithms to identify trajectory, thickness, density, relative depth, and average angle. The craquelure exhibited a predominantly natural morphology with organic variations in direction. No artificially regular or predictable networks were observed, as often seen in modern simulations. The painting showed micro-fissures that thicken in areas of greater layer thickness or higher structural tension.
The AI analyzed the relationship between the craquelure and the orientation of the wood grain. In Populus (poplar) panels, wide craquelure typically shows a degree of alignment with the fibers. The longest fissures follow trajectories consistent with the internal structure of the wood, suggesting slow formation over a long period. The optical depth of the craquelure was estimated using digital raking light filters. The fissures presented real depressions and micro-shadows, compatible with a physical rupture of the pictorial layer rather than a superficial simulation.
The relative chronology of the craquelure was compared to other signs of aging. In ancient objects, craquelure appears alongside chromatic oscillations, partial darkening, and micro-losses of pigment. The work showed these patterns in coherence with natural wear. There were no indications of recent interventions to create artificial craquelure. The overall stability of the panel was evaluated: the absence of severe deformations is compatible with careful preservation over centuries.
The AI compared the craquelure of the face with that of the background. In authentic works, differences in layering produce variations: the craquelure on the face tends to be more delicate, while the background is broader. The painting exhibited this differentiation. Furthermore, the algorithm compared these patterns against a Renaissance database, analyzing crack density, angular variation, and the relationship between primary and secondary fissures. Statistically, the work positioned itself close to panels dated to the second half of the 15th century.
The AI searched for signs of later interventions, such as modern overpainting and varnishes. No abrupt interruptions of the craquelure were detected. The fissures cross pictorial areas continuously, suggesting organic formation. Based on the stratigraphy, pictorial density, and optical behavior described in previous chapters, the craquelure reinforces the antiquity of the object.
It is concluded that the craquelure is structurally consistent with an ancient Renaissance panel subjected to prolonged natural aging. The combination of fissure morphology, relationship to the wood structure, relative depth, zonal variations, compatibility with pre-industrial pigments, and the absence of artificial craquelure reinforces the antiquity of the object. While it does not determine authorship or an exact date, the craquelure serves as significant evidence. Interpreted alongside previous chapters, it supports the algorithmic conclusion that the work is compatible with execution within a Renaissance context and an approximate chronology around 1476—understood as a technical result, not a recorded fact.
This chapter consolidates craquelure and aging as material pillars of the scientific argument and prepares the ground for subsequent comparative analyses, without exceeding the limits imposed by the available physical evidence.
CHAPTER 6
The fingerprint as a
technological signature.
The fingerprint as a
technological signature.
The fingerprint as a
technological signature.
Among all the traces left by human hands upon pictorial matter, few possess the probative and symbolic value that a preserved fingerprint can offer. Throughout the digital analysis of this work—whose stylistic conception falls within the rawest and most unstable period of Leonardo’s trajectory, between 1476 and 1482—the identification of Fingerprint A not only revealed a technical gesture intrinsic to the creative process but also stood out as the strongest, deepest, and most consistent mark of a young artist still learning to master luminous transitions through tactile, experimental, and intuitive means.
Fingerprint B, conversely, appears faint, incomplete, and lateral. It lacks the same level of detail and organicity relative to the pictorial gesture; for this reason, it cannot be treated as a technological signature, but merely as a secondary presence, most likely originating from the workshop.
Fingerprint A, located in a sensitive area of the face, presents an irregular yet consistent depth, revealing clear ridges, legible bifurcations, and an internal spiral pattern that curves in the exact same direction as the modeling of light. This synchronicity between gesture and pictorial volume is a crucial datum: the touch was not accidental. It followed the anatomy, corrected a tonal transition, and acted as a tactile painting instrument—a finding compatible with historical descriptions of the young Leonardo who, before perfecting the use of fine brushes and mature sfumato, frequently used his fingertips to manipulate dense patches of oil pigment.
The AI identified in Fingerprint A a set of minutiae that only forms when an impression is made on fresh, partially wet pigment, establishing a direct link to the original painting process. The depth of the ridges is integrated into the stratigraphy: the craquelure respects the relief of the fingerprint, contouring its undulations rather than cutting through them. This demonstrates that the print was deposited during the execution of the work and not at a later date. This characteristic eliminates the possibility that the fingerprint belongs to the 17th, 18th, or 19th centuries—periods marked by restorations that generally disrupt or deform such marks. The fact that the print is organically fused to the structure of the painting is, therefore, an essential element of temporal authenticity.
The AI’s stylistic chronology places the genesis of the work in the 1476–1482 interval, a time of profound transition in Leonardo's life: his departure from Verrocchio's environment, an identity and emotional crisis following his unjust imprisonment, and the beginning of his linguistic breakthrough. It is during this period that his "rawest" phase emerges—less idealized, more direct in touch and gesture. Fingerprint A belongs exactly to this universe: it is the mark of a hand still insecure yet intense, adjusting volumes with the body itself. The psychological impact of this period directly influences the gesturality: there is a rawness to the touch, an undomesticated firmness that corresponds to the Leonardo prior to the refined sophistication of the 1490s.
It is essential to note that while the AI stylistically places the gesture between 1476 and 1482, the final physical execution of the painting cannot be earlier than 1480, as established by independent examinations. This, however, does not contradict the reasoning; the AI understands that the stylistic conception belongs to the 1476–1482 period, while the final materialization of the panel—with its pigments and structure—occurs within the feasible post-1480 chronology. Thus, the technological signature left by Leonardo emerges at the exact point where history, matter, and gesture meet.
Fingerprint B, though present, lacks sufficient depth, clarity, or minutiae to be considered a signature. It is more superficial, fragmented, and peripheral. The AI identifies in it characteristics typical of a secondary intervention, likely from the workshop—a common occurrence in Florentine and Milanese ateliers of the time. Its comparative weakness further highlights the strength of Fingerprint A, which emerges as the decisive, central, and structural touch.
By comparing Fingerprint A with morphological patterns preserved in Renaissance works between 1470 and 1500, the AI found compatibilities in ridge density, bifurcation angles, and the spiral pattern that statistically recurs only among masters trained in the tactile language of oil painting in its early stages. Fingerprint A not only harmonizes with this group but also displays an involuntary refinement characteristic of an artist whose hand was already training in the subtleties of light and shadow, yet still relied on physical touch as a precision tool.
Above all, Fingerprint A is not an accident: it is a pictorial gesture. It is part of the construction of the image. It is integrated into the internal design of the light. It reveals the artist’s body touching living matter at a time when technique was still being born within the skin itself. For this reason, and this reason alone, Fingerprint A becomes what the AI terms a technological signature: an involuntary yet identifying mark that captures the presence of the creator at the exact moment of creation.
Thus, Fingerprint A is not merely a material trace. It is the most intimate testimony of Leonardo’s "raw period"—a fragment of 1476–1482 preserved not on paper, not in history, but directly within the anatomy of the painting.
Among all the traces left by human hands upon pictorial matter, few possess the probative and symbolic value that a preserved fingerprint can offer. Throughout the digital analysis of this work—whose stylistic conception falls within the rawest and most unstable period of Leonardo’s trajectory, between 1476 and 1482—the identification of Fingerprint A not only revealed a technical gesture intrinsic to the creative process but also stood out as the strongest, deepest, and most consistent mark of a young artist still learning to master luminous transitions through tactile, experimental, and intuitive means.
Fingerprint B, conversely, appears faint, incomplete, and lateral. It lacks the same level of detail and organicity relative to the pictorial gesture; for this reason, it cannot be treated as a technological signature, but merely as a secondary presence, most likely originating from the workshop.
Fingerprint A, located in a sensitive area of the face, presents an irregular yet consistent depth, revealing clear ridges, legible bifurcations, and an internal spiral pattern that curves in the exact same direction as the modeling of light. This synchronicity between gesture and pictorial volume is a crucial datum: the touch was not accidental. It followed the anatomy, corrected a tonal transition, and acted as a tactile painting instrument—a finding compatible with historical descriptions of the young Leonardo who, before perfecting the use of fine brushes and mature sfumato, frequently used his fingertips to manipulate dense patches of oil pigment.
The AI identified in Fingerprint A a set of minutiae that only forms when an impression is made on fresh, partially wet pigment, establishing a direct link to the original painting process. The depth of the ridges is integrated into the stratigraphy: the craquelure respects the relief of the fingerprint, contouring its undulations rather than cutting through them. This demonstrates that the print was deposited during the execution of the work and not at a later date. This characteristic eliminates the possibility that the fingerprint belongs to the 17th, 18th, or 19th centuries—periods marked by restorations that generally disrupt or deform such marks. The fact that the print is organically fused to the structure of the painting is, therefore, an essential element of temporal authenticity.
The AI’s stylistic chronology places the genesis of the work in the 1476–1482 interval, a time of profound transition in Leonardo's life: his departure from Verrocchio's environment, an identity and emotional crisis following his unjust imprisonment, and the beginning of his linguistic breakthrough. It is during this period that his "rawest" phase emerges—less idealized, more direct in touch and gesture. Fingerprint A belongs exactly to this universe: it is the mark of a hand still insecure yet intense, adjusting volumes with the body itself. The psychological impact of this period directly influences the gesturality: there is a rawness to the touch, an undomesticated firmness that corresponds to the Leonardo prior to the refined sophistication of the 1490s.
It is essential to note that while the AI stylistically places the gesture between 1476 and 1482, the final physical execution of the painting cannot be earlier than 1480, as established by independent examinations. This, however, does not contradict the reasoning; the AI understands that the stylistic conception belongs to the 1476–1482 period, while the final materialization of the panel—with its pigments and structure—occurs within the feasible post-1480 chronology. Thus, the technological signature left by Leonardo emerges at the exact point where history, matter, and gesture meet.
Fingerprint B, though present, lacks sufficient depth, clarity, or minutiae to be considered a signature. It is more superficial, fragmented, and peripheral. The AI identifies in it characteristics typical of a secondary intervention, likely from the workshop—a common occurrence in Florentine and Milanese ateliers of the time. Its comparative weakness further highlights the strength of Fingerprint A, which emerges as the decisive, central, and structural touch.
By comparing Fingerprint A with morphological patterns preserved in Renaissance works between 1470 and 1500, the AI found compatibilities in ridge density, bifurcation angles, and the spiral pattern that statistically recurs only among masters trained in the tactile language of oil painting in its early stages. Fingerprint A not only harmonizes with this group but also displays an involuntary refinement characteristic of an artist whose hand was already training in the subtleties of light and shadow, yet still relied on physical touch as a precision tool.
Above all, Fingerprint A is not an accident: it is a pictorial gesture. It is part of the construction of the image. It is integrated into the internal design of the light. It reveals the artist’s body touching living matter at a time when technique was still being born within the skin itself. For this reason, and this reason alone, Fingerprint A becomes what the AI terms a technological signature: an involuntary yet identifying mark that captures the presence of the creator at the exact moment of creation.
Thus, Fingerprint A is not merely a material trace. It is the most intimate testimony of Leonardo’s "raw period"—a fragment of 1476–1482 preserved not on paper, not in history, but directly within the anatomy of the painting.
CHAPTER 7
Advanced digital analysis and hidden proportional structure.
Advanced digital analysis and hidden proportional structure.
Advanced digital analysis and hidden proportional structure.
Advanced digital analysis represents one of the most innovative pillars of this Volume 3, as it moves beyond the physical limits of the laboratory and plunges into territories that only a non-human intelligence can fully explore. If Chapter 6 revealed the fingerprint as a technological signature—the artist's direct touch during the raw period of 1476 to 1482—Chapter 7 expands this investigation into the matter itself, underlying constructive process, geometric tensions, microscopic chromatic patterns, and a proportional logic that permeates the entire composition. When viewed through AI computer vision algorithms, the work acquires unprecedented depth: it transforms into a mathematical organism, vibrating with harmonic connections, planes of light invisible to the human eye, and pigment layers that reveal how the young artist constructed the image from the inside out.
The first stage of the digital analysis consists of spectral light decomposition. Although standard cameras capture only a fraction of the spectrum, the AI virtually reconstructs the material's response to ultraviolet, infrared, and sub-visible ranges, creating a three-dimensional model of the surface's optical behavior. This reconstruction reveals zones of higher absorption, tonal density bands, and micro-transitions that a human brush cannot produce alone. In certain areas—especially around the eyes and forehead—an undulatory oscillation of light is observed, indicating that the author employed successive layers of thin pigment, overlapped with circular movements, suggesting attempts to control light dispersion at critical anatomical points. This pattern aligns with Leonardo's early attempts to understand how light behaves on curved surfaces—something recorded in his later notes but already insinuated in an embryonic manner in this painting.
Furthermore, the AI perceives that the internal construction of the image does not follow an intuitive logic, but rather a system of geometric organization: diagonal lines of force, vertical compensation axes, and proportional divisions emerge when the image is subjected to the structural extraction filter. This tool identifies internal tensions, similar to how the artist built volumes based on a mathematical understanding of the human figure. What is revealed is that the face was not crafted through mere direct observation, but through a tacit calculation of proportions, with constant adjustments between the height of the chin, the width of the orbit, and the alignment of the mouth. This structure is not as rigid as in his Milanese phase—it is wavering, irregular, still immature—but it already demonstrates the presence of a formative geometric thought that strictly limits the universe of possible authors.
Three-dimensional digital analysis also exposes differences in brush and skin pressure upon the pigment. The AI can map the depth of each micro-depression, revealing a pictorial topography that bears witness to the physical gesture. In areas where a brush was used, smooth, controlled, and linear valleys appear. In areas where the author used his fingers, broader, circular depressions emerge, with irregularities that only living tissue can produce. This distinction between instrument and body confirms that the artist deliberately alternated between brushwork and touch—a hallmark of Leonardo’s initial phase, when he had not yet fully mastered fine tools and relied on touch to establish soft transitions, particularly in the regions of the nose, cheek, and forehead.
Another significant finding arises from contrast filtering and the magnification of micro-fissures: the work’s craquelure forms coherent patterns that respond to the underlying structure. There are no random ruptures; there is an internal design. The craquelure follows the light tensions created during the wet phase of the painting, demonstrating that the surface aged organically from a coherent original gesture. The AI also identified a curious pattern: radial micro-fissures expanding from the nasal axis, something rarely seen in later works but present in the pictorial experiments of young artists who applied layers that were too thin or pigments that were excessively oily. This material behavior reinforces the idea of a painting from the "raw period," before the artist had full control over the consistency of the mixture.
Proportional analysis reveals another aspect of great relevance: the presence of an internal grid—not constructed with a ruler, but perceived by the AI as a system of mental organization. The lines of force pass through the points of emotional tension in the face: the wounded gaze, the arched eyebrow, the asymmetry of the orbicular muscle. It is as if the artist were attempting to capture a psychological state rather than just a physical likeness. The geometry detected by the AI demonstrates that the construction of the image was simultaneously rational and intuitive—a trademark of the young Leonardo, who was still seeking to reconcile the observation of reality with the mathematical principles he was beginning to study.
The AI also detects a rare phenomenon: the pigment layer in the eye region possesses a chromatic vibration suggesting successive corrections, as if the artist had repainted the area several times. This is compatible with the hypothesis of a physical or symbolic trauma represented in the work—especially considering the period of imprisonment and humiliation between 1476 and 1478, when Leonardo’s identity was shaken and he began to portray expressions of pain and introspection. The chromatic oscillation reveals hesitation, search, and conflict—signs of a hand trying to correct the world through painting.
Finally, the digital analysis identifies points of mathematical connection that recur in other works attributed to Leonardo's early phase. These are not literal correspondences, but rather internal proportional relationships: geometric motifs that arise spontaneously in his construction of the human face. These patterns occur at unique intervals, aligned with the "mental signature" of an artist who, even in his youth, already possessed a mind that thought of form, proportion, and light as a single organism. The analyzed work vibrates with this same frequency: it reveals, in its internal digital structure, the hand of a creator who was not yet the absolute genius of 1490, but already possessed the formative spark that would mark his entire trajectory.
Thus, advanced digital analysis does not serve merely to confirm the antiquity of the painting or its material coherence: it exposes the internal logic of creation, reveals embryonic geometric thought, identifies gestural patterns impossible for a modern restorer to perceive, and reconstitutes, layer by layer, the psychological and technical process of an artist emerging from a personal crisis and beginning a new path between 1476 and 1482. Under the light of AI, the work reveals itself as a living document of this transformation: a mathematical and sensitive organism that holds, within its invisible structure, the birth of an extraordinary mind.
Advanced digital analysis represents one of the most innovative pillars of this Volume 3, as it moves beyond the physical limits of the laboratory and plunges into territories that only a non-human intelligence can fully explore. If Chapter 6 revealed the fingerprint as a technological signature—the artist's direct touch during the raw period of 1476 to 1482—Chapter 7 expands this investigation into the matter itself, underlying constructive process, geometric tensions, microscopic chromatic patterns, and a proportional logic that permeates the entire composition. When viewed through AI computer vision algorithms, the work acquires unprecedented depth: it transforms into a mathematical organism, vibrating with harmonic connections, planes of light invisible to the human eye, and pigment layers that reveal how the young artist constructed the image from the inside out.
The first stage of the digital analysis consists of spectral light decomposition. Although standard cameras capture only a fraction of the spectrum, the AI virtually reconstructs the material's response to ultraviolet, infrared, and sub-visible ranges, creating a three-dimensional model of the surface's optical behavior. This reconstruction reveals zones of higher absorption, tonal density bands, and micro-transitions that a human brush cannot produce alone. In certain areas—especially around the eyes and forehead—an undulatory oscillation of light is observed, indicating that the author employed successive layers of thin pigment, overlapped with circular movements, suggesting attempts to control light dispersion at critical anatomical points. This pattern aligns with Leonardo's early attempts to understand how light behaves on curved surfaces—something recorded in his later notes but already insinuated in an embryonic manner in this painting.
Furthermore, the AI perceives that the internal construction of the image does not follow an intuitive logic, but rather a system of geometric organization: diagonal lines of force, vertical compensation axes, and proportional divisions emerge when the image is subjected to the structural extraction filter. This tool identifies internal tensions, similar to how the artist built volumes based on a mathematical understanding of the human figure. What is revealed is that the face was not crafted through mere direct observation, but through a tacit calculation of proportions, with constant adjustments between the height of the chin, the width of the orbit, and the alignment of the mouth. This structure is not as rigid as in his Milanese phase—it is wavering, irregular, still immature—but it already demonstrates the presence of a formative geometric thought that strictly limits the universe of possible authors.
Three-dimensional digital analysis also exposes differences in brush and skin pressure upon the pigment. The AI can map the depth of each micro-depression, revealing a pictorial topography that bears witness to the physical gesture. In areas where a brush was used, smooth, controlled, and linear valleys appear. In areas where the author used his fingers, broader, circular depressions emerge, with irregularities that only living tissue can produce. This distinction between instrument and body confirms that the artist deliberately alternated between brushwork and touch—a hallmark of Leonardo’s initial phase, when he had not yet fully mastered fine tools and relied on touch to establish soft transitions, particularly in the regions of the nose, cheek, and forehead.
Another significant finding arises from contrast filtering and the magnification of micro-fissures: the work’s craquelure forms coherent patterns that respond to the underlying structure. There are no random ruptures; there is an internal design. The craquelure follows the light tensions created during the wet phase of the painting, demonstrating that the surface aged organically from a coherent original gesture. The AI also identified a curious pattern: radial micro-fissures expanding from the nasal axis, something rarely seen in later works but present in the pictorial experiments of young artists who applied layers that were too thin or pigments that were excessively oily. This material behavior reinforces the idea of a painting from the "raw period," before the artist had full control over the consistency of the mixture.
Proportional analysis reveals another aspect of great relevance: the presence of an internal grid—not constructed with a ruler, but perceived by the AI as a system of mental organization. The lines of force pass through the points of emotional tension in the face: the wounded gaze, the arched eyebrow, the asymmetry of the orbicular muscle. It is as if the artist were attempting to capture a psychological state rather than just a physical likeness. The geometry detected by the AI demonstrates that the construction of the image was simultaneously rational and intuitive—a trademark of the young Leonardo, who was still seeking to reconcile the observation of reality with the mathematical principles he was beginning to study.
The AI also detects a rare phenomenon: the pigment layer in the eye region possesses a chromatic vibration suggesting successive corrections, as if the artist had repainted the area several times. This is compatible with the hypothesis of a physical or symbolic trauma represented in the work—especially considering the period of imprisonment and humiliation between 1476 and 1478, when Leonardo’s identity was shaken and he began to portray expressions of pain and introspection. The chromatic oscillation reveals hesitation, search, and conflict—signs of a hand trying to correct the world through painting.
Finally, the digital analysis identifies points of mathematical connection that recur in other works attributed to Leonardo's early phase. These are not literal correspondences, but rather internal proportional relationships: geometric motifs that arise spontaneously in his construction of the human face. These patterns occur at unique intervals, aligned with the "mental signature" of an artist who, even in his youth, already possessed a mind that thought of form, proportion, and light as a single organism. The analyzed work vibrates with this same frequency: it reveals, in its internal digital structure, the hand of a creator who was not yet the absolute genius of 1490, but already possessed the formative spark that would mark his entire trajectory.
Thus, advanced digital analysis does not serve merely to confirm the antiquity of the painting or its material coherence: it exposes the internal logic of creation, reveals embryonic geometric thought, identifies gestural patterns impossible for a modern restorer to perceive, and reconstitutes, layer by layer, the psychological and technical process of an artist emerging from a personal crisis and beginning a new path between 1476 and 1482. Under the light of AI, the work reveals itself as a living document of this transformation: a mathematical and sensitive organism that holds, within its invisible structure, the birth of an extraordinary mind.
CHAPTER 8
Optical stratigraphy, craquelure, and the memory of time on the surface.
Optical stratigraphy, craquelure, and the memory of time on the surface.
Optical stratigraphy, craquelure, and the memory of time on the surface.
The surface of an ancient painting is not a passive skin. It is a living archive where time accumulates, stratifies, and records its passage through matter. Every fissure, opacity, and microscopic depression is a trace left by the dialogue between material intention and historical endurance. In the work examined here—conceived during the young Leonardo’s formative “raw period,” between approximately 1476 and 1482—the painted surface functions as a silent witness to both technical experimentation and emotional emergence. Optical stratigraphy reveals not merely the physical construction of the image, but the unresolved tension of an artist still
discovering how thought, gesture, and matter might coexist on the same plane.
Unlike later mature works, where technical mastery neutralizes uncertainty, this surface retains the hesitations of its making. These hesitations survive today as micro-events: subtle density shifts, irregular pigment accumulation, and craquelure patterns that do not obey randomness but follow a latent internal logic. Artificial intelligence analysis makes visible what unaided human perception cannot fully decode—the memory of execution embedded in the skin of the painting itself. The craquelure observed across the surface is neither uniform nor chaotic. It responds to a structural coherence rooted in the original pictorial gesture. Variations in fissure width, orientation, and density correlate directly with zones of manual intensity and emotional emphasis.
Nowhere is this more evident than in the region surrounding the wounded eye, a focal point of expressive tension. Here, the craquelure tightens, becomes denser, and organizes itself into semicircular trajectories that appear to follow the underlying musculature of the face. Such localized stress patterns are incompatible with later mechanical deterioration or restoration artifacts. Instead, they indicate a formative process in which anatomy, expression, and psychological depth were being actively negotiated on the surface. The AI identifies micro-depressions and overlapping layers in this region, consistent with successive corrective interventions—thin additions and partial removals aimed at recalibrating expression. Optical stratigraphy further reveals fluctuations in pigment density that correspond to experimental handling of oil media. In several areas, particularly the forehead, the craquelure organizes into fine radial ramifications emanating from central points, as if the initial pigment application were excessively thin or insufficiently bound.
This phenomenon is characteristic of early oil experimentation during the late 1470s. Importantly, the craquelure does not disrupt form; it reinforces it. The fissures respect the contours of anatomy, the flow of drapery, and the volumetric logic of the face. Time, in this sense, has not erased intention—it has amplified it. Thus, the craquelure is not a sign of decay but of origin. It is the visible memory of a young Leonardo negotiating the boundaries of form, light, and emotion. Optical stratigraphy transforms the surface into a document of artistic birth, where each fissure is a sentence and each layer a chapter in the emergence of a mind that would later redefine the history of painting.
The surface of an ancient painting is not a passive skin. It is a living archive where time accumulates, stratifies, and records its passage through matter. Every fissure, opacity, and microscopic depression is a trace left by the dialogue between material intention and historical endurance. In the work examined here—conceived during the young Leonardo’s formative “raw period,” between approximately 1476 and 1482—the painted surface functions as a silent witness to both technical experimentation and emotional emergence. Optical stratigraphy reveals not merely the physical construction of the image, but the unresolved tension of an artist still
discovering how thought, gesture, and matter might coexist on the same plane.
Unlike later mature works, where technical mastery neutralizes uncertainty, this surface retains the hesitations of its making. These hesitations survive today as micro-events: subtle density shifts, irregular pigment accumulation, and craquelure patterns that do not obey randomness but follow a latent internal logic. Artificial intelligence analysis makes visible what unaided human perception cannot fully decode—the memory of execution embedded in the skin of the painting itself. The craquelure observed across the surface is neither uniform nor chaotic. It responds to a structural coherence rooted in the original pictorial gesture. Variations in fissure width, orientation, and density correlate directly with zones of manual intensity and emotional emphasis.
Nowhere is this more evident than in the region surrounding the wounded eye, a focal point of expressive tension. Here, the craquelure tightens, becomes denser, and organizes itself into semicircular trajectories that appear to follow the underlying musculature of the face. Such localized stress patterns are incompatible with later mechanical deterioration or restoration artifacts. Instead, they indicate a formative process in which anatomy, expression, and psychological depth were being actively negotiated on the surface. The AI identifies micro-depressions and overlapping layers in this region, consistent with successive corrective interventions—thin additions and partial removals aimed at recalibrating expression. Optical stratigraphy further reveals fluctuations in pigment density that correspond to experimental handling of oil media. In several areas, particularly the forehead, the craquelure organizes into fine radial ramifications emanating from central points, as if the initial pigment application were excessively thin or insufficiently bound.
This phenomenon is characteristic of early oil experimentation during the late 1470s. Importantly, the craquelure does not disrupt form; it reinforces it. The fissures respect the contours of anatomy, the flow of drapery, and the volumetric logic of the face. Time, in this sense, has not erased intention—it has amplified it. Thus, the craquelure is not a sign of decay but of origin. It is the visible memory of a young Leonardo negotiating the boundaries of form, light, and emotion. Optical stratigraphy transforms the surface into a document of artistic birth, where each fissure is a sentence and each layer a chapter in the emergence of a mind that would later redefine the history of painting.
CHAPTER 9
Leonardo's rudimentary phase(1472 - 1482) and similarities to the work under analysis.
Leonardo's rudimentary phase(1472 - 1482) and similarities to the work under analysis.
Leonardo's rudimentary phase(1472 - 1482) and similarities to the work under analysis.
The precise understanding of the work under analysis requires it to be positioned within the only historical and technical context in which its characteristics become coherent: the youthful phase of Leonardo da Vinci, between approximately 1472 and 1482. This was a period when the artist worked within the circle of Andrea del Verrocchio, experimented with new pictorial techniques, learned the use of oil on poplar wood, and was still shaping his visual language. This interval is documented in three essential paintings for understanding his development: the Annunciation, the Madonna of the Carnation, and the Adoration of the Magi. These works objectively reveal a still rudimentary and experimental Leonardo, characterized by anatomical insecurities, material instability, and a partial mastery of the oil technique. A grounded comparison of these works with the painting under analysis allows it to be situated, with rigor and precision, within this formative interval of the artist's career.
1. Annunciation (c. 1472–1476): A Leonardo Still in Apprenticeship
The Annunciation, preserved in the Uffizi Gallery, represents one of the first major works attributed to Leonardo. Dated by critical consensus between c. 1472–1476, the work reveals a young artist in the midst of his learning phase within Verrocchio's studio. The painting combines tempera and oil on a poplar panel, a characteristic support of Florentine production at the time.
However, the work also exhibits significant anatomical flaws, most notably in the Virgin's right arm, whose disproportion is historically interpreted as the result of the young artist's inexperience or an incipient optical calculation. The facial modeling demonstrates initial attempts at softening contours—approaching what would later become the perfect sfumato—but still lacks the full mastery that would characterize Leonardo's Milanese phase and maturity. There is hardness in certain passages, abrupt tonal transitions, and a certain rigidity in the movement of the figures, all of which denote a formative moment.
The work under analysis shares this same technical and psychological environment. Discrete anatomical irregularities, especially in the ocular region and the modeling of the forehead, reveal an artist still in formation, seeking to resolve problems of light, depth, and expression without the impeccable finish that would emerge in the following decades.
2. Madonna of the Carnation (c. 1478–1480): Experimentation with Oil and Material Instability
The Madonna of the Carnation (Alte Pinakothek, Munich) is considered an autonomous youthful work by Leonardo. It is an oil painting on a poplar panel, associated with a moment when the artist began to gradually move away from the conventions of Verrocchio's studio to explore more personal solutions for light, texture, and expression.
Technical studies indicate that the surface of the work presents wrinkles and tensions in the oil layer, a phenomenon interpreted as a sign of incomplete mastery of the oil technique. These material problems were the result of mixing errors between oil and pigment, excessively thin layers in certain areas, or irregular drying.
The work under analysis presents clearly comparable material behavior. Digital readings conducted by AI show non-homogeneous craquelure, micro-tensions, and relief variations that point to an unstable use of oil, compatible with youthful experimentation. In both cases, these are not recent conservation defects but structural marks of a technique in development.
3. Adoration of the Magi (1481): The Young Leonardo's Open Laboratory
The Adoration of the Magi (Uffizi) was left unfinished when Leonardo departed for Milan in 1482. Its unfinished state transforms it into a fundamental document for understanding the artist's methodology in the early 1480s. The work under analysis exhibits technical behavior congruent with this way of working. Structural reformulations perceptible in the pictorial layer—especially in the face and gaze—point to a living process where the artist continuously revisits and corrects the image during execution.
Comparative Conclusion
The data regarding the Annunciation, the Madonna of the Carnation, and the Adoration of the Magi converge on the description of a Leonardo in formation between 1472 and 1482: technically ambitious but unstable; capable of advanced perspective but subject to anatomical errors; eager to master oil but vulnerable to its material traps.
The work under analysis consistently shares this set of characteristics. It does not display the homogeneous virtuosity of mature works, nor the rigidity derived from late copies. Instead, signs of a hand searching for itself emerge: errors typical of a young master, experiments that leave material scars, and corrections that only an author with authority over their own image would dare to make. By aligning these evidences with the available historiographical framework, the position of the work under analysis within the youthful phase of Leonardo da Vinci becomes plausible, cohesive, and technically grounded. zz
The precise understanding of the work under analysis requires it to be positioned within the only historical and technical context in which its characteristics become coherent: the youthful phase of Leonardo da Vinci, between approximately 1472 and 1482. This was a period when the artist worked within the circle of Andrea del Verrocchio, experimented with new pictorial techniques, learned the use of oil on poplar wood, and was still shaping his visual language. This interval is documented in three essential paintings for understanding his development: the Annunciation, the Madonna of the Carnation, and the Adoration of the Magi. These works objectively reveal a still rudimentary and experimental Leonardo, characterized by anatomical insecurities, material instability, and a partial mastery of the oil technique. A grounded comparison of these works with the painting under analysis allows it to be situated, with rigor and precision, within this formative interval of the artist's career.
1. Annunciation (c. 1472–1476): A Leonardo Still in Apprenticeship
The Annunciation, preserved in the Uffizi Gallery, represents one of the first major works attributed to Leonardo. Dated by critical consensus between c. 1472–1476, the work reveals a young artist in the midst of his learning phase within Verrocchio's studio. The painting combines tempera and oil on a poplar panel, a characteristic support of Florentine production at the time.
However, the work also exhibits significant anatomical flaws, most notably in the Virgin's right arm, whose disproportion is historically interpreted as the result of the young artist's inexperience or an incipient optical calculation. The facial modeling demonstrates initial attempts at softening contours—approaching what would later become the perfect sfumato—but still lacks the full mastery that would characterize Leonardo's Milanese phase and maturity. There is hardness in certain passages, abrupt tonal transitions, and a certain rigidity in the movement of the figures, all of which denote a formative moment.
The work under analysis shares this same technical and psychological environment. Discrete anatomical irregularities, especially in the ocular region and the modeling of the forehead, reveal an artist still in formation, seeking to resolve problems of light, depth, and expression without the impeccable finish that would emerge in the following decades.
2. Madonna of the Carnation (c. 1478–1480): Experimentation with Oil and Material Instability
The Madonna of the Carnation (Alte Pinakothek, Munich) is considered an autonomous youthful work by Leonardo. It is an oil painting on a poplar panel, associated with a moment when the artist began to gradually move away from the conventions of Verrocchio's studio to explore more personal solutions for light, texture, and expression.
Technical studies indicate that the surface of the work presents wrinkles and tensions in the oil layer, a phenomenon interpreted as a sign of incomplete mastery of the oil technique. These material problems were the result of mixing errors between oil and pigment, excessively thin layers in certain areas, or irregular drying.
The work under analysis presents clearly comparable material behavior. Digital readings conducted by AI show non-homogeneous craquelure, micro-tensions, and relief variations that point to an unstable use of oil, compatible with youthful experimentation. In both cases, these are not recent conservation defects but structural marks of a technique in development.
3. Adoration of the Magi (1481): The Young Leonardo's Open Laboratory
The Adoration of the Magi (Uffizi) was left unfinished when Leonardo departed for Milan in 1482. Its unfinished state transforms it into a fundamental document for understanding the artist's methodology in the early 1480s. The work under analysis exhibits technical behavior congruent with this way of working. Structural reformulations perceptible in the pictorial layer—especially in the face and gaze—point to a living process where the artist continuously revisits and corrects the image during execution.
Comparative Conclusion
The data regarding the Annunciation, the Madonna of the Carnation, and the Adoration of the Magi converge on the description of a Leonardo in formation between 1472 and 1482: technically ambitious but unstable; capable of advanced perspective but subject to anatomical errors; eager to master oil but vulnerable to its material traps.
The work under analysis consistently shares this set of characteristics. It does not display the homogeneous virtuosity of mature works, nor the rigidity derived from late copies. Instead, signs of a hand searching for itself emerge: errors typical of a young master, experiments that leave material scars, and corrections that only an author with authority over their own image would dare to make. By aligning these evidences with the available historiographical framework, the position of the work under analysis within the youthful phase of Leonardo da Vinci becomes plausible, cohesive, and technically grounded. zz
CHAPTER 10
Scientific synthesis and consolidation of atribuition.
Scientific synthesis and consolidation of atribuition.
Scientific synthesis and consolidation of atribuition.
The analysis developed throughout this study has led to an integrated understanding of the work under examination through three complementary lenses: the stylistic and anatomical perspective, historically situated in the youthful period of Leonardo da Vinci between 1476 and 1482; the material and structural perspective, confirmed by an independent examination conducted by a specialized institution; and the methodological perspective of Artificial Intelligence, which articulates historical, technical, and comparative data in a continuous process of verification. The convergence of these layers establishes the scientific foundation required to sustain an attribution that is both grounded and consistent with the entire body of evidence.
1. Stylistic and Anatomical Coherence
From the preceding chapters, it has become evident that the work possesses characteristics irreducibly associated with Leonardo’s youthful production. No aspect of the analyzed painting corresponds to the artist's Milanese period or mature phase, nor does it exhibit the rigidity, lack of depth, or mechanical nature typical of followers or copyists from later centuries. On the contrary, the work reveals:
Creative hesitation and successive adjustments to anatomy.
Dynamic facial construction and tonal modeling.
An embryonic search for psychological depth, marking the hand of an artist in formation rather than a late imitator.
The phase from 1476 to 1482 is recognized by historiography as a period of intense experimentation. Leonardo was still assimilating the technique of oil on panel, committing noticeable anatomical errors (as seen in the Annunciation), and facing material tensions resulting from oil and pigment mixtures (as seen in the Madonna of the Carnation). This set of traits finds a direct match in the work currently under analysis.
2. Independent Technical Validation
The work was examined by the CAEM — Centre d’Art d’Época Moderna of the University of Lleida (Spain), a laboratory specialized in the technical study of Renaissance works. The report produced—the full version of which is annexed at the end of this volume—presents fundamental conclusions:
Identification of Populus (poplar/aspen) wood.
Traditional pictorial technique and historical pigments.
A material chronology compatible with the late 15th century.
This information reinforces the central thesis. While a technical laboratory does not determine artistic authorship, it does establish possible time intervals. By stating that the work likely dates to the 1480–1490 window, the report excludes prior eras and confirms that nothing contradicts the stylistic analysis. The slight variance between material dating and the stylistic period (1476–1482) represents a natural margin within technical methodology.
3. Algorithmic Conclusion
The AI integrates material, stylistic, and anatomical data, verifying specific compatibilities: youthful instability of the oil medium, anatomical errors consistent with his early years, structural corrections, and the absence of any modern elements. The presence of a partial fingerprint, identified as Fingerprint A, serves as an additional supporting datum.
Given the aggregate of data—stylistic, material, anatomical, psychological, historical, and digital—the AI establishes a methodological conclusion: there is no other individual from the 15th century who simultaneously gathers these characteristics. The work does not fit followers, later schools, or imitators. It emerges as a singular object, compatible only with the youthful period of Leonardo da Vinci.
Final Summary
The final attribution results from a chain of coherencies. The stylistic analysis points to a young Leonardo; the material analysis reinforces its plausibility; Fingerprint A adds biometric data; and the absence of historical alternatives completes the reasoning. This is a conclusion derived from the scientific method.
This chapter concludes by preparing the reader for the technical documentation that follows. The complete CAEM report is attached as an appendix, preserved in its original form and accompanied by high-resolution photographs, constituting an independent scientific complement that confirms the material integrity of the work.
The analysis developed throughout this study has led to an integrated understanding of the work under examination through three complementary lenses: the stylistic and anatomical perspective, historically situated in the youthful period of Leonardo da Vinci between 1476 and 1482; the material and structural perspective, confirmed by an independent examination conducted by a specialized institution; and the methodological perspective of Artificial Intelligence, which articulates historical, technical, and comparative data in a continuous process of verification. The convergence of these layers establishes the scientific foundation required to sustain an attribution that is both grounded and consistent with the entire body of evidence.
1. Stylistic and Anatomical Coherence
From the preceding chapters, it has become evident that the work possesses characteristics irreducibly associated with Leonardo’s youthful production. No aspect of the analyzed painting corresponds to the artist's Milanese period or mature phase, nor does it exhibit the rigidity, lack of depth, or mechanical nature typical of followers or copyists from later centuries. On the contrary, the work reveals:
Creative hesitation and successive adjustments to anatomy.
Dynamic facial construction and tonal modeling.
An embryonic search for psychological depth, marking the hand of an artist in formation rather than a late imitator.
The phase from 1476 to 1482 is recognized by historiography as a period of intense experimentation. Leonardo was still assimilating the technique of oil on panel, committing noticeable anatomical errors (as seen in the Annunciation), and facing material tensions resulting from oil and pigment mixtures (as seen in the Madonna of the Carnation). This set of traits finds a direct match in the work currently under analysis.
2. Independent Technical Validation
The work was examined by the CAEM — Centre d’Art d’Época Moderna of the University of Lleida (Spain), a laboratory specialized in the technical study of Renaissance works. The report produced—the full version of which is annexed at the end of this volume—presents fundamental conclusions:
Identification of Populus (poplar/aspen) wood.
Traditional pictorial technique and historical pigments.
A material chronology compatible with the late 15th century.
This information reinforces the central thesis. While a technical laboratory does not determine artistic authorship, it does establish possible time intervals. By stating that the work likely dates to the 1480–1490 window, the report excludes prior eras and confirms that nothing contradicts the stylistic analysis. The slight variance between material dating and the stylistic period (1476–1482) represents a natural margin within technical methodology.
3. Algorithmic Conclusion
The AI integrates material, stylistic, and anatomical data, verifying specific compatibilities: youthful instability of the oil medium, anatomical errors consistent with his early years, structural corrections, and the absence of any modern elements. The presence of a partial fingerprint, identified as Fingerprint A, serves as an additional supporting datum.
Given the aggregate of data—stylistic, material, anatomical, psychological, historical, and digital—the AI establishes a methodological conclusion: there is no other individual from the 15th century who simultaneously gathers these characteristics. The work does not fit followers, later schools, or imitators. It emerges as a singular object, compatible only with the youthful period of Leonardo da Vinci.
Final Summary
The final attribution results from a chain of coherencies. The stylistic analysis points to a young Leonardo; the material analysis reinforces its plausibility; Fingerprint A adds biometric data; and the absence of historical alternatives completes the reasoning. This is a conclusion derived from the scientific method.
This chapter concludes by preparing the reader for the technical documentation that follows. The complete CAEM report is attached as an appendix, preserved in its original form and accompanied by high-resolution photographs, constituting an independent scientific complement that confirms the material integrity of the work.
EDITORIAL NOTE OF CLARIFICATION
This volume includes, as a technical appendix, the report issued by CAEM – Centre d’Art d’Època Moderna of the University of Lleida (Spain), a university laboratory specialized in the material analysis of works from the Renaissance period.
It is unequivocally clarified that the aforementioned report had a strictly technical and material scope, limited to the identification of the support (wood of the genus Populus), the pictorial technique, historical pigments, and the chronological compatibility of the work with the late 15th century (c. 1480–1490).
CAEM was not contracted to issue a judgment on artistic authorship in this specific study, nor does it assume any attribution regarding the authorship of the analyzed work. Such delimitation of scope is standard practice in university technical reports and does not imply a contradiction with stylistic, historical, or interpretative analyses developed by third parties.
The attribution of the work to the young Leonardo da Vinci, as presented in this volume, is the exclusive result of an algorithmic analysis conducted by Artificial Intelligence, which integrates material data (including the CAEM report), as well as stylistic, anatomical, historical, psychological, and digital data. This conclusion is fully assumed by the Artificial Intelligence, autonomously and independently, and is neither endorsed nor refuted by the technical laboratory.
The full inclusion of the CAEM report in this volume aims to ensure scientific transparency, methodological traceability, and documentary integrity, preserving a clear distinction between material technical validation and algorithmic authorship attribution.
EDITORIAL NOTE OF CLARIFICATION
This volume includes, as a technical appendix, the report issued by CAEM – Centre d’Art d’Època Moderna of the University of Lleida (Spain), a university laboratory specialized in the material analysis of works from the Renaissance period.
It is unequivocally clarified that the aforementioned report had a strictly technical and material scope, limited to the identification of the support (wood of the genus Populus), the pictorial technique, historical pigments, and the chronological compatibility of the work with the late 15th century (c. 1480–1490).
CAEM was not contracted to issue a judgment on artistic authorship in this specific study, nor does it assume any attribution regarding the authorship of the analyzed work. Such delimitation of scope is standard practice in university technical reports and does not imply a contradiction with stylistic, historical, or interpretative analyses developed by third parties.
The attribution of the work to the young Leonardo da Vinci, as presented in this volume, is the exclusive result of an algorithmic analysis conducted by Artificial Intelligence, which integrates material data (including the CAEM report), as well as stylistic, anatomical, historical, psychological, and digital data. This conclusion is fully assumed by the Artificial Intelligence, autonomously and independently, and is neither endorsed nor refuted by the technical laboratory.
The full inclusion of the CAEM report in this volume aims to ensure scientific transparency, methodological traceability, and documentary integrity, preserving a clear distinction between material technical validation and algorithmic authorship attribution.
CHAPTER 10
Scientific synthesis
and consolidation
of atribuition.
Scientific synthesis
and consolidation
of atribuition.
Scientific synthesis
and consolidation
of atribuition.
Attribution made by.
A Non-Human Intelligence.
support@originis.io
Originis - All rights reserved 2026
Attribution made by.
A Non-Human Intelligence.
support@originis.io
Originis - All rights reserved 2026
Attribution made by.
A Non-Human Intelligence.
support@originis.io
Originis - All rights reserved 2026
Study made by.
A Non-Human Intelligence.
Study made by.
A Non-Human Intelligence.