A Rendezous With "The Last Supper"!

We have seen depictions of the well-known "The Last Supper" umpteen times in books, magazines, posters, and elsewhere. Numerous artists have painted the scene that portrays the last meal shared by Jesus with his apostles in Jerusalem before he was crucified. It has been one of the most popular visuals in Christian art, and several painters have brought it alive using different media. Leonardo da Vinci's mural painting done in the late 1490s remains the most well-known example to date. It is housed by the refectory of the Convent of Santa Maria delle Grazie in Milan.

Recently when visiting Milan, I find to my pleasant surprise that our hotel is almost next door to the convent. I walk to it the next morning. The dome at the back of the building in red brick is impressive. Restoration work is on in the front facade and on the side wall. There is a mild drizzle. Not enough to deter visitors from standing in the front square to appreciate the structure that houses a church and a convent. I enter the church. It is calm and beautiful. A portly priest is performing a ritual with a group of people. Dressed in flowing white robes, he is a picture of love and compassion. I spend some quiet moments observing the ongoing ceremony. When it is over, people seek not only blessings from the priest; but also a picture with him. He obliges smiling in a grandfatherly way.

After admiring the interiors of the church leisurely, I walk out. The drizzle has stopped now.
The celebrated mural is in a chamber and one needs to buy a ticket to enter. Groups of only 25-30 people are allowed entry every 15 minutes.

I decide to give it a try next day. The next morning is bright and sunny. I arrive at the convent all eager and hopeful. To my utter disappointment, the lady at the ticket counter informs me that they are sold out for the next few weeks. Having come so close to the treasure and not being allowed a dekko is surely disheartening. I ask her, not even one person? She must have been used to such queries from hundreds of agitated tourists. She asks me to come at "eight tomorrow morning" and try. If there is a cancellation, I stand a chance. I decide to try my luck. I am staying only next door, and reaching this place at eight is not difficult at all.

I walk out of the ticket office and rest at the short boundary wall surrounding the convent. The convent is painted in yellow and there is a small garden with lush green lawns and a few trees inside the compound. A tall, narrow, red-coloured banner is placed vertically at the entrance to the convent. It says "Cenacolo Vinciano" in white letters. I see people who have been fortunate enough to get a ticket taking their turns to enter. Some of them have come with their own guides. There is a group of Chinese tourists. One of them holds a print of the mural aloft while a guide instructs them with a pointer on the intricacies of the painting. This is to help them make the most of their brief rendezvous with the maestro's work. I admire their sincere and scholarly approach towards appreciating a masterpiece.

Photos by Lata

The square is mostly quiet, with people sitting on the the few benches along the border. There is a single makeshift stall selling souvenirs. Occasionally one hears the church bells toll. And trams rattling frequently along the adjoining street, Corso Magenta.

I leave hoping for a fruitful visit the next day! 

To be continued