Leonardo da Vinci’s painting Saint John the Baptist was the last portrait he created. Stylistically, it fits well within the canon of his work. John’s mysterious smile pairs seamlessly with that of the Mona Lisa. His oval-eyed gaze matches that of the Lady with an Ermine. But just as Leonardo kept a similar process and style for his artistic creations, he continued to push the boundaries of the painted images he made. It is essential to point out, even if it being rather crude, that there are no hidden symbols or messages in any of Leonardo da Vinci’s paintings. There are two main reasons why we know this to be the case. The first one being that every painting made by da Vinci has been extensively x-rayed, and not one of the scans has shown anything of the sort. A second reason as to why we know this is that Leonardo simply would not have been able to leave a symbol or code in a painting that could only be deciphered through modern technology. What is discovered regarding da Vinci’s painting Saint John the Baptist is that it is a meditative work reflecting on his own mortality and the human experience of death.  

Painted from 1513 to 1516, Leonardo da Vinci had most of his life already behind him. Leonardo, who lived from 1452 to 1519, is not known to have made any other painting after Saint John the Baptist. Traditionally, Saint John the Baptist was always depicted in art as a gaunt, almost crazed figure. The one that we know in the Bible who wandered through the wilderness, eating only honey and wild locusts. Looking at the da Vinci painting, John the Baptist appears lively, sturdy, and far from hungry. His cheeks full, his eyes piercing, his hair of thick volume. Leonardo followed the artistic rules at the time regarding how to put together a portrait, such as proper portion and shading. However, he radically shifted how John the Baptist had conventionally been painted.

Another common way artists painted John the Baptist was to visually show his gruesome end through beheading. Over centuries this has created dramatic and harrowing feelings in these creations. But again, da Vinci refuses to paint John the Baptist in this helpless way. In fact, in da Vinci’s version he is depicted as being rather vulnerable in the sense that he is mostly nude, smiling, and has an almost careless expression about himself. No one had ever painted him in such a way before. Leonardo’s depiction is radical in its sensual, playful nature, while still clearly highlighting him as an important biblical prophet. Saint John the Baptist is a painting filled with so much vibrant life while allegorically speaking directly to death.  

Leonardo’s mural, The Last Supper, painted between 1495-1498, contrasts well with Saint John the Baptist. With The Last Supper we have the story of Jesus Christ willingly moving towards death to be the ultimate human sacrifice. Saint John the Baptist presents to the viewer as this androgynous ghost-like figure, or in other words, someone who has already experienced death and knows exactly what lies on the other side from the living. In the Christian tradition, after Jesus is killed on the cross, he later rises from the dead. It is a moment of defiance and fulfills the promise he made to his followers. However, after the murder of John the Baptist, the world closes in on him, and he can only appear to us as a figure beyond that of flesh and blood. Leonardo da Vinci gives the spectator a view of John the Baptist as a post-death figure. One that is restored and provides us with a sense of curious calm.

The painting is similar to drawings by da Vinci found in his notebooks. Notably Sheet of Sketches of an Angel and Various Studies of Machines, Horses, and Riders c. 1503-1506 and The Incarnate Angel c. 1513. He had been thinking of this pose and it being related to an angel for over a decade before beginning the world-renowned painting. Dr. Carmen Bambach is the Head Curator of Italian and Spanish Drawings at the New York Metropolitan Museum of Art (The MET) and leading da Vinci scholar. She told me directly that the Saint John the Baptist painting was most likely a commissioned work for private worship. This would mean that Leonardo took his previous sketches and ideas for a male angel and controversially applied it to John the Baptist. Thus, the biblical prophet became both angel and man through this painting. A blend of both human and ghost.

As a young man, da Vinci was known for his handsomeness and graceful presence, but as he aged over the years, he opted to take on the persona of a wizard-like philosopher.[1] Not forgetting his once youthful glow, he painted a more boyish depiction of John, using his student and romantic partner, Salai as the model. But he incorporated the staging of having the figure point upwards towards the heavens with a mysterious smile. Leonardo was keeping his visual vanity, while simultaneously addressing his thoughts and concerns about death through the same person. The only other painting that comes close to this style of both attraction and philosophy is the Mona Lisa.  

There is a confident, all-knowingness in Saint John the Baptist that presents John as the apparition either appearing or disappearing from our view. His finger pointing towards the Kingdom of God while his facial features tell us that he holds the secrets of the afterlife.[2] There is less envy from Leonardo and more of him being in unison with this secret with John the Baptist. He made several religious paintings throughout his life, and it appears through this painting that he is comfortable with his theology. A wise man who now fashions himself more as a philosopher would lead him to believe that he knows the mysteries of the Catholic faith the same way that John the Baptist would understand them to be.

Leonardo views his artwork of Saint John the Baptist as being his mystical twin, understanding unanswerable parables regarding nature and death.[3] The physical state of John the Baptist being well nourished and having a youthful glow shows that he viewed our inescapable death as both the natural order and a direct service to God. Leonardo appears to be comfortable with his old age and shows us this through his painting. Despite John the Baptist receiving a horrific death and mutilation of his body, da Vinci assures us of the blissful afterlife of Heaven through this confident portrayal. Of course, it can only be speculated that this is how da Vinci truly felt. However, what we do know is that he wanted everyone to at least think that this is how he felt.

A marker for what makes a particular work of art to be great is when the answer in the work is not immediately available. Looking at a painting, for example, understanding exactly what is going on, without any nuance, generally does not strike our own imagination or metaphorically pierce our heart. Better artworks are the ones that we need to spend time with. Ones that we need to think about and emotionally process within ourselves. Saint John the Baptist does a remarkable job with this as it leaves us with more questions than answers. Is John appearing or disappearing from us? Is he alive, or dead? Is he guaranteeing the viewer Heaven, or leaving us with a choice to pursuit it? The beautiful depiction of John the Baptist is enough to gain the viewers’ attention. But it is questioning the purpose of what the painting is trying to tell us that fully captures us.  

Humans have long wondered about our creation story as a species. We naturally question where we came from, why we are here, and where we are going. These questions are talked about confidently in many religious contexts that span across history and cultures. The Saint John the Baptist painting confronts this timeless question of our human origin story and wrestles the reality of death that we all one day will face.[4] As stated earlier, this painting was most likely intended for the use of personal prayer, and from its depiction, could be seen as taking the faithful to their intended destination after their life on earth. Religious iconography, particularly in the Italian Renaissance, was quite popular. In a world that was centuries away from the works of non-religious thinkers, such as Sigmund Freud and Christopher Hitchens, these works of art served the public as assurances that there was certainly more to come after death.

Leonardo da Vinci was fascinated by anatomy throughout his life. Throughout his extensive notetaking, particularly towards the end of his life, he saw many comparisons between both human and animal organs. He sought to find as many connections between us and them as possible.[5] Through Saint John the Baptist we can see him as bordering the realm of the living human and animal with that of a spirit, which is neither. He takes this painting beyond his own understanding of the function of life and death of humans and animals and presents us with something metaphysical. Saint John the Baptist is a bridge between the human worry of death being finite, and a religious hope of it being eternal. 

In Leonardo’s old age he also returned to his genesis of childlike drawings. Seeming to be unbothered by approaching the end, he drew his figures as if he was still naïve and fresh to life.[6] This explains the style choice to not only paint John the Baptist as well fed and full of energy, but also as a young man. Leonardo’s figures did not need to be shown as old and desperate, but rather young and eager for what is to come. The model for this painting was da Vinci’s student and romantic partner, Salai, who was several decades younger than him. Using a youthful figure tells us that the end of our life means the beginning of a new life after our death. This painting takes the religious viewer confidently into the unknown despite our own natural hesitation with the afterlife.

With the numerous Catholic-based paintings da Vinci made in his life we can see that he understood theology quite well. The light that shines through darkness as mentioned in the New Testament is presented well in the Saint John the Baptist painting. This light does not come off Saint John because he is not the Savior of the world. Instead, it is the light shining on to him from God.[7] Leonardo uses this visual light to help guide the Christian believers towards the afterlife from escaping an eternal darkness in death. The Protestant Reformation was starting around the time Leonardo finished this painting, and since he died shortly after its creation, this type of religious denomination would not have made its way to him. It is because of this that da Vinci used Catholic iconography in accordance with his own artistic practice. Saint John the Baptist was painted as a tool for understanding death and how the faithful will cross over.

Leonardo da Vinci continuously, and compulsively worked on three paintings, the Virgin and Child with Saint Anne, the Mona Lisa, and Saint John the Baptist for the rest of his life.[8] Even though Saint John the Baptist was the last painting he would create, he still saw it as an ongoing thought. As his health was declining and death approaching near, he still mustered up the energy to show it off to everyone that came to visit him.[9] Being in ill health and still gathering the willingness to present it to people means that Leonardo viewed this as one of, it not his most important, painting. Saint John the Baptist is his apogee, and Leonardo da Vinci knew this. Not only is it a painting of simplistic perfection, but it was created just as da Vinci’s life was running out. Leonardo spent his remaining years in France at the request of King Francis I where he was held in high esteem as a court painter.[10]   

Saint John the Baptist is a painting that acted as a reflection on death for Leonardo da Vinci. Sifting through the thousands of pages of notes he left behind you will come across many anatomical drawings. Paired with these sketches are extensive notes on how each organ, bone, and joint functioned. Leonardo even properly depicted the aortic arch in Saint John the Baptist. Modern x-ray technology has revealed this precise placement showing the left atrium, ascending aorta, and brachiocephalic trunk, in the painting.[11] He wanted to know how life operated. But not just life for humans and animals, but for nature as well. Like all that came before him, da Vinci knew that these functions that contribute to life eventually stop working. The vibrancy of youth will age, and the body will begin to slow. It is near Leonardo’s own end of life that he paints Saint John the Baptist, a painting of eternity in a finite reality. Having made this painting while his own health declined over the years allows us to observe this artwork as da Vinci’s personal meditation on death. As his mural, The Last Supper, is a precursor to the resurrection, he knew that John the Baptist will not be raised from the dead in the same way. There is no resurrection for John the Baptist, just as there is no resurrection for Leonardo da Vinci.  


[1] Carmen Bambach, “Leonardo and Turin,” essay, in Leonardo Da Vinci Drawings from the Biblioteca Reale in Turin (Birmingham, Alabama: Birmingham Museum of Art, 2008), 6.

[2] Martin Kemp, “Prologue,” essay, in Living with Leonardo: Fifty Years of Sanity and Insanity in the Art World and Beyond (London: Thames and Hudson, 2019), 20.

[3] Kenneth Clark, essay, in Leonardo Da Vinci (Harmondsworth: Pelican, 1967), 153–56.

[4] Claire Farago, “Chapter 19,” essay, in Leonardo’s Projects, c. 1500-1519 (New York City, New York: Taylor & Francis, 1999), 391.

[5] Frank Zöllner and Johannes Nathan, Leonardo. The Complete Drawings (Köln: TASCHEN, 2022), 299.

[6] Frank Zöllner, Leonardo. The Complete Paintings (Köln: TASCHEN, 2019), 319.

[7] Paul Barolsky, “The Mysterious Meaning of Leonardo’s ‘Saint John the Baptist,’” Source: Notes in the History of Art 8, no. 3 (April 1989): 11–15, https://doi.org/10.1086/sou.8.3.23202683.

[8] Walter Isaacson, Leonardo Da Vinci (New York City, New York: Simon & Schuster Paperbacks, 2018), 497.

[9] Walter Isaacson, Leonardo Da Vinci (New York City, New York: Simon & Schuster Paperbacks, 2018), 503.

[10] Martin Kemp, “Chapter 5,” essay, in Leonardo Seen from the Inside Out (Oxford University Press, 2005), 255–74.

[11] Grigol Keshelava, “Hidden Cardiovascular Anatomy in ‘Saint John the Baptist’ by Leonardo Da Vinci,” AORTA 10, no. 02 (April 2022): 89–91, https://doi.org/10.1055/s-0042-1742698.