All language subtitles for Secrets.of.the.Mona.Lisa.2015

The "Mona Lisa"

bewitching, seductive,
worldfamous.

In the minds of millions, she
is the ultimate work of art,

endlessly photographed
and admired.

Yet, behind the enigmatic
smile, she remains a mystery.

Who was she?

Why was she painted?

And what has made her the
world's most famous painting?

After 500 years in the spotlight

the "Mona Lisa" is finally
giving up her secrets.

Centuriesold documents
are at last revealing

longforgotten truths.

This is wonderful.

Ooh! I've got a
shiver down my spine.

State of the art technology

is taking us beneath
the painted surface

to decode astonishing
new evidence.

That's extraordinary.

Wow! That's quite
a big discovery, isn't it?

Yes, it is.

This investigation, the
first full forensic examination

of the latest discoveries,

takes me round the world
in the hunt for the truth

about Leonardo da
Vinci's masterpiece.

With exclusive access and
some extraordinary encounters.

The first impression
when I came in was...

I did well not to jump
backwards in shock.

These revelations will change
everything we thought we knew

about history's most
enigmatic work of art.

That's great. So we just
made a new discovery.

And unlock the secrets
of the "Mona Lisa."

All of this together marks
an extraordinary moment

in the history of art,
but more than that,

this is quite simply one of
the stories of the century.

500 years ago, a
man painted a women.

The man was Leonardo da Vinci,
artist, inventor, genius,

and the result of his work

was the inscrutable portrait
we now know as the "Mona Lisa."

It's a masterpiece,

but one of the few works
he actually finished.

So what draws us
to the "Mona Lisa?"

She's not a famous monarch or
a legendary historical figure.

We know hardly
anything about her.

So what is it about this picture

that's gripped the
human imagination for

The Mona Lisa is the
work into which Leonardo

poured everything he knew

about humanity and the
world that surrounds us

with its ceaseless play
of light and shade.

But there's a
mystery there, too,

and it's staring us in the face.

Who is the woman with
the enigmatic smile?

It's a question that has
fueled all kinds of speculation

ranging from the
ingenious to the crackpot.

She's a pregnant mothertobe,
she's a prostitute,

she's even a man in drag.

But if you look
beyond the theories

there are clues to
her true identity.

Florence, 1500.

After many years away
Leonardo da Vinci has returned

to the city of his youth.

He's come back to work on
ambitious military projects

for powerful men.

He says he's too busy
to paint portraits

of wealthy aristocrats
who clamor after him.

Yet according to one writer

Leonardo somehow finds
time to paint the portrait,

not of a noblewoman,

but of a humble merchant's
wife called Lisa.

It was here that
Leonardo da Vinci

began the most famous
painting in the world,

and it was here
that Giorgio Vasari,

the inventor of the very
idea of the Renaissance,

the author of the very first
book about the Renaissance,

produced exhibit A in the
case of the "Mona Lisa."

The very first account
of the painting.

Who was she?

She was the wife of Francesco
del Giocondo, a rich merchant.

He commissioned Leonardo
to create her portrait,

and Leonardo responded with
a picture, says Vasari,

"So miraculously lifelike

"that it seems to be made
of flesh, not paint."

"Leonardo," he says, "wanted
to avoid the melancholy

"that dominates so
many other portraits

"so he employed musicians,
entertainers, buffoons

"to keep her amused."

So there you have it, the wife
of Francesco del Giocondo,

and the smile caused
by entertainers

An openandshut case.

Or is it?

How can we be sure
that Vasari was right,

and that Leonardo did indeed
paint Lisa del Giocondo?

After all, Vasari
wrote his account

30 years after Leonardo's death,

and although he did his
homework here in Florence,

he never disclosed his sources.

So could it just be hearsay?

Some inaccurate local legend?

For centuries there
was no way of telling.

Then suddenly new
evidence emerged

from a completely
unexpected source.

In 2006, a research
scholar working

in the University Library of
Heidelberg turned up this.

What it is, is a page
from a copy of Cicero,

the ancient Roman author,

a book that was once
owned here in Florence

by a man called
Agostino Vespucci.

And not only does it
have Cicero's text,

but it's got
Vespucci's commentaries

and this particular
passage is crucial.

Because in it Cicero
is discussing Apelles,

the ancient Greek artist,

and his remarks prompt
Vespucci to make his own notes,

his marginal note, and what he
writes is a kind of bombshell

in the history of
Leonardo studies.

He says "Apelles, ha!

"He did just the same
thing as Leonardo

"in his portrait of
Lisa del Giocondo."

And best of all, there's
a date, "October 1503."

So this was written almost
immediately after Vespucci

must have seen the portrait
of Lisa del Giocondo

in Leonardo da Vinci's workshop.

This is gold dust, and
it proves that Vasari

was definitely right in at
least one sense all along.

Leonardo definitely
did paint a portrait

of Lisa del Giocondo.

There you have it.

Independent testimony from
a man in Florence in 1503

who probably saw the
picture still wet

on the artist's easel.

But now there's
another question.

Why did Leonardo paint Lisa
when the great and powerful

couldn't coax a
picture from him?

Why agree to paint
this obscure woman?

One man has made
it his life's work

to uncover forgotten
secrets about Lisa.

Giuseppe Pallanti has found new
details in the city archive.

Historical dynamite, beginning
with the house where Lisa,

daughter of the
Gherardinis, was born.

On this street,

this is the street where
the Mona Lisa once lived.

Yes, Lisa
lived in the dark and narrow

street of Florence.

What was
her family background?

So they were small,
as it were, laborers?

They never had their
own house in Florence?

Giuseppe's
discoveries have

If Lisa's origins were so humble

why did the notoriously
choosy Leonardo

consent to paint her?

In another part of town,

Giuseppe believes
he's found the answer.

The place is there.

It is important
for another reason

because in front of this
building lived Ser Piero,

Leonardo's father.

What? Hang on, say that again.

Lisa Gherardini was
living here, at the time

Yes.

Leonardo da Vinci's
father was living there?

Yes.

How incredible!

So he was a...

You're saying that Francesco
del Giocondo, the merchant,

he was actually a client
of Leonardo's father?

Yes.
Well, this is all new.

Yes.
This is all new.

For the first time, we
have a concrete connection

between Leonardo and Lisa.

Not only were they neighbors,

their families did
business together.

And there's more.

Giuseppe tells me

that according to police
records of the time,

Francesco had a bit
of a reputation.

Described as garoso
meaning swaggering,

he wasn't just a
merchant on the rise

but an aggressive dealmaker

who'd stop at almost
nothing to get his way.

Maybe this is the real reason

Leonardo agreed
to paint his wife.

Maybe Francesco made him an
offer he couldn't refuse.

In the parish church
of San Lorenzo

there's another crucial
piece of evidence.

Something that had slipped
through the net of history

until just a few years ago
when Giuseppe found it.

The record of Mona Lisa's death.

Wonderful thing.

The handwriting isn't
very easy to follow

because the entries in these
books weren't actually made

by notaries like Leonardo
da Vinci's father,

they were actually made by
the priests in the church,

but I think I have found her.

Here she is.

This is wonderful.

Ooh! I've got a
shiver down my spine.

"Lisa

"Francesco del Giocondo."

So, "Lisa the wife of
Francesco del Giocondo

"died on the 15th of July,

"1542."

Just...

I think what I love about
this is this is truth.

What could be more true than
the record of somebody's death?

She was a real person.

She was a real person.

And there's one other
sentence in this entry

which my friend
Pallanti didn't mention.

It says that she was
buried in Saint Ursula,

he told me that,

but what he didn't say
is this last sentence,

Four words.

She took with her
the whole capito.

What that means is that
her body was followed by

the whole body of the
church of San Lorenzo.

So what is conjured up by this,

is a very, very grand funeral,

and for this brief
moment in July 1542,

she was a very, very
important person

in the life of the city.

Everybody in Florence
would have known

that Mona Lisa had passed away.

A spectacular funeral.

Dozens of canons,
chaplains, and clerics.

The whole del Giocondo clan
walking with Lisa's coffin.

Francesco had died
five years earlier

but he made sure he provided
for all this pomp and ceremony

in his will, where
she is described

as "his beloved, faithful wife".

Lisa del Giocondo
was laid to rest

in the now ruined
convent of Saint Ursula.

Beyond here we can't follow
her though we've learned a lot.

Leonardo definitely knew Lisa,

definitely painted her portrait.

But if one riddle's
been answered,

there's still another
mystery to solve.

How can we be certain that
Leonardo's portrait of Lisa

and the portrait in the
Louvre are one and the same?

So what are the facts?

According to Vasari,

Leonardo painted Lisa
smiling in Florence.

Vespucci's marginal
notes confirm that

The picture in the Louvre
shows a woman smiling.

So far, so good.

But other things don't add up.

Vasari describes eyebrows

but the Louvre portrait
doesn't have eyebrows.

Vasari tells us
Leonardo painted Lisa

for Francesco del Giocondo.

But Francesco never
owned the portrait

we now call the "Mona Lisa."

Leonardo had it with
him when he died.

Most troubling of all
is an eyewitness account

written by a man called
Antonio de Beatis.

He was actually shown the
picture that's now in the Louvre

by Leonardo himself at
the end of his life.

Leonardo said he'd been
asked to paint this portrait

not by Francesco del Giocondo

but by someone
completely different.

A noble patron,
Giuliano de' Medici.

It simply doesn't make sense.

It's almost as if
we might be talking

about different paintings.

So I'm beginning to wonder
whether it's not possible

Leonardo did paint two
versions of the same painting

on several occasions.

I'm beginning to wonder

if it's not possible
that he did indeed finish

his portrait of the "Mona
Lisa" here in Florence,

that he did indeed give it
to Francesco del Giocondo,

and that the portrait
of Mona Lisa in Paris

is a second version.

Is it possible

that there might be more
than one "Mona Lisa?"

The idea is not as strange
as you might think.

Leonardo did habitually revisit

the same subject more than once.

I've come to Singapore
to see for the first time

a picture that might
actually be Leonardo's

first version of the painting.

It's owned by an anonymous
consortium of businessmen

and is currently locked
away deep in the bowels

of a stateoftheart
highsecurity storage facility.

So could this be the
first "Mona Lisa?"

I've come 7,000
miles to see you.

Blimey.

The background's,
you might almost say,

a kind of roughing
in, but the face, ha.

The face is really something.

She's younger, she's smiling.

I think there's a lot to be
said for first impressions,

and the first
impression when I came in was...

I did well not to jump
backwards in shock.

It's too good, in my opinion,

for any of the other school
of Leonardo painters.

Very dangerous,
things like this.

Very dangerous to say,

"This is definitely painted
by Leonardo da Vinci."

Well, I can't say that, but

I think it's not beyond
the realms of possibility

that this is the picture that
Francesco del Giocondo took

and then Leonardo goes
off, paints another picture

based on the memory
of this picture.

And that's the Mona Lisa
we know in the Louvre.

It's very teasing
that smile, isn't it?

Very teasing.

This version of the "Mona Lisa"

first hit the headlines in 1914.

British art dealer, Hugh Blaker,

bought it from a private
family collection

and was convinced he'd stumbled
across an early Leonardo.

He kept it in his
Isleworth studios

and it became known as
the "Isleworth Mona Lisa."

One thing in its favor
was its similarity

to this pencil sketch
copy of the Mona Lisa,

done in Florence in 1504 by
Leonardo's contemporary Raphael,

which seems to show
how the painting looked

in its original state.

Yet after a century of
supporters, detractors,

and different owners,

opinion on the Isleworth
painting is still divided.

One man who is convinced

that Leonardo painted
two "Mona Lisas"

is JeanPierre Isbouts.

He was so impressed by
the Isleworth portrait

he wrote a book about it.

So what would lead you to think
that the Isleworth picture

was indeed painted in 1503?

What is to say that it
wasn't painted in 1553?

Well, I don't know about you,

but when you talk about a copy

usually a copy tries to
imitate the original.

This is not a copy.

There are so many
different things

about this particular
Isleworth version

that do not appear in
the Louvre version.

Let's take one
example, the columns.

The portrait is framed by
two robust Doric columns.

Why do we know that
those columns existed

in 1503 and not later on?

Because there is Raphael.
He makes a sketch.

And what do we
have on both sides?

We have the columns that
appear in the Isleworth,

they do not appear in
the Louvre version.

Let's talk about the record
written by De Beatis,

the secretary to
Cardinal d'Aragon

who visited Leonardo in 1516.

Which is
seriously puzzling.

Which is seriously puzzling.

But here we have an
eyewitness account.

Here they are in the room
with Leonardo and he says,

"Yeah, this was
done at the request

of Giuliano de' Medici.
Instigation.

I think what he was
doing at this time,

is give Giuliano credit.

Giuliano bailed Leonardo out,

when Leonardo was without
a mentor, penniless

and that's when Leonardo,
because of the patronage

and the financial
support of Giuliano,

finds the time to create this
new meditation, if you will,

the Louvre version.

So your explanation would be,

"Well, here we are, two
different explanations,

"but that's not so
weird if you think

"there are two
different pictures."

Exactly.

JeanPierre firmly believes

this could be Leonardo's
first Mona Lisa

done for husband Francesco.

But, if so, why would
it be unfinished?

Well, we know Leonardo was slow

and Francesco was impatient,

so perhaps he just snatched
it away from Leonardo

once his beloved Lisa's
face was complete.

A barrage of scientific tests

have been carried out on
this tantalizing picture.

The canvas was carbondated
to around the right period.

Multiple tiny paint
samples are consistent

with the paints Leonardo used.

Xray, infrared, and
ultraviolet scans

have found nothing to disprove
it as an early "Mona Lisa."

But there's something
still troubling me.

I would love to
believe that that

softly emerging face
coming out of darkness

really is young Mona Lisa.

I'd love to believe that.

But at the moment, for me,

it's that
toogoodtobetrue syndrome.

It's a little bit too good.

It's troubling.

When I look at that
chart that they've done

of where they've taken
the paint samples from.

They've taken the paint
samples from everywhere

except that beguiling face,

which is the most compelling
part of the whole picture.

It's the part that
makes you think, "Yes!"

"This could be the
young Mona Lisa."

I'm just wondering
whether it's possible

that some very skillful,
careful restorer,

didn't just bring that face

up.

Didn't just make
whatever ghost or trace

of possibly a "Mona Lisa" copy

into something so much more
compelling to the modern eye.

I could be wrong.

Maybe Leonardo did
paint this face in 1503

while Lisa sat in front of him,

but until the face is
tested, doubt remains,

and, to me, she just looks
a bit too 20thcentury.

But I'm still
convinced that Leonardo

did paint two "Mona Lisas."

If the Isleworth painting
isn't the earlier version,

then it's either lost or
still out there somewhere.

And believe it or not,
now there's a new lead.

The reported discovery

of another "Mona Lisa"
in St Petersburg, Russia.

This really is a plunge
into the unknown.

All we've been told is that a
wealthy Russian art collector,

identity a secret, recently
acquired a painting

that might be the missing
link to the mystery.

We haven't yet been
told where it is,

and then, at the last minute,
we're given an address,

a place with a dubious past.

Certainly strange.

This building was created
in the 19th century.

This room is a recreation

of an old Russian hunting lodge.

It survives because the KGB
made it their headquarters

during the communist years.

Here she is.

So what is this?

What is this?

All I know about this picture

is that it was purchased
by a Russian art collector

from a very old and
established American family,

who'd had it since the
end of the 18th century,

and has hardly been seen since.

And what's the status
of this picture?

Smaller.

The columns are more complete

than they are in the
version in the Louvre.

You see,
they've got me going.

Now, I'm saying "The
version in the Louvre."

The version in the Louvre.

The "Mona Lisa" in the Louvre.

She's enigmatic. She's removed.

She's distant.

Is she a copy?

Not sure.

This picture looks
tantalizingly close

to the picture in the Louvre,

so many details are the same,

but is this Leonardo's
lost earlier version?

As with the Isleworth picture,

scientific tests have been
done by Dr. Chiara Matteucci

of the University of Bologna,

who's flown to Russia
to share her results.

This is the radiocarbon
dating of the canvas?

Which shows a 95.4% probability

that the canvas is
between 1490 and 1670.

So the canvas could
well be correct.

Si.
Okay.

Oh, that's the ground.
Well, that's very clear.

But as far as I understand it,

Leonardo da Vinci himself

worked on a classic Italian
Renaissance ground of white,

is that right?

The presence of a red ground,
the very first layer of paint,

seems to discount
Leonardo's hand.

But it's Chiara's next discovery

that really changes the picture.

A chemical not used before 1600.

I think Chiara's done all
the research we need to know.

So the barium allows us to place
this canvas very precisely,

1620 to 1680, and
probably in Paris.

So all the painters around Paris

got this ground
from this one guy

and put it on their canvas.

So, more and more that
I talk to you, I feel...

So this Mona Lisa
isn't a Leonardo,

but a mid17th
century French copy.

In fact, there are
dozens of copies.

It's a real problem
if you believe,

as I think you have to, given
the conflicting evidence,

that Leonardo did
paint two "Mona Lisas."

What we're looking for, then,

is Leonardo's image
of young Lisa,

as described by Vasari,
as sketched by Raphael,

which must predate the
famous picture in the Louvre.

So, where can it be?

I still believe that I can get
to the bottom of the mystery

because there's one
very strong lead

I haven't yet followed up.

One more destination.

Paris.

A scientist turned art detective

claims he can finally
explain the discrepancies.

He believes the secrets
of the Mona Lisa lie

not in other versions
of the portrait,

but inside the
"Mona Lisa" itself.

And he reckons he can prove it.

Pascal.

Welcome.

Pascal Cotte

is one of the world's
leading experts

in the analysis of paintings.

He's a man in
Leonardo's own image.

A selftaught physicist,

the brilliant inventor
of a new technique

that's unlocked the secrets
of paintings by Rubens,

Rembrandt, Picasso,
and many others.

His work on another
Leonardo painting,

the "Lady with an Ermine,"

revealed earlier versions
of the composition

hidden beneath its surface
that rewrote art history.

But his great obsession
is the Mona Lisa.

Faithfully reproduced
here in his studio.

In 2004, Pascal was
invited by the Louvre

to scan the painting.

His task? Simply to identify
the picture's original colors

hidden beneath the
discolorations of time.

But Pascal's technique
also revealed

that there was far more
going on beneath the surface.

For the last decade,
he's worked in secret,

decoding those discoveries.

And now he's ready
to share them.

So our goal is to
peel, like an onion,

all the layer of paint, to
reconstruct the chronology

of the construction
of the painting.

So, is this new?
Is this a new

This is a new
technique, absolutely.

Pascal's
secret weapon

is his groundbreaking
multispectral camera.

An invention truly
worthy of Leonardo.

13 different
wavelengths of color

are projected onto the picture.

Each penetrating the paint
surface to a different depth.

The camera captures
the reflections,

generating over three
billion bits of data

and thousands of images.

By analyzing each image,
shown in black and white,

Pascal can reveal a painting's
secrets layer by layer.

His first discovery
in the "Mona Lisa"

is buried deep
within the painting.

What we discover, we discover
that the head was bigger.

So you see a shadow

Yes, I can see.
Of a bigger head.

And you can see
also that the nose

is double here.

Oh!

Wow!

So once, she had a larger head.

And I discovered
this hand, much more bigger.

Wow.

Pascal has pieced together

several previously
unknown details

that lie beneath the Louvre
portrait as we know it.

Marked in red,

they seem to be elements
of a larger first portrait

that never got
beyond a draft stage.

But that's just the beginning
of Pascal's discoveries.

So now we continue
with one other layer.

Voila. Here we are.

What
on earth is that?

What is it?

This is a hairpin.

Like this one.

So, you found
Something like this.

You found...

With that little bit of
your magic light camera,

you found a missing hairpin?

Now you know there is a
hairpin, you can see it.

Hah!

Because you know.

But, yes. No, exactly.

How fascinating.

And more than that,
if you look around the head,

you discover 12 hairpins.

The
hairpins with pearls

make no sense on the
first large portrait,

but Pascal has
found something else

that appears to be
connected to them.

Tiny rows of dots,
known as spolveri.

They seem to suggest
an elaborate headdress.

Intriguingly, a type
of headdress that,

was only ever shown on the
heads of saints or Madonnas.'

This is a painting
of a headdress

that have nothing to
do with "Mona Lisa."

Nothing to do
with "Mona Lisa?"

Nothing to do
with "Mona Lisa."

The spolveri
hidden inside the "Mona Lisa"

have never been seen before.

They're concrete proof

of the way Leonardo
constructed a picture.

He would have begun with
a preparatory drawing.

Marked the lines on tracing
paper with a sharp point,

then transferred those
outlines onto the wood

with coal dust.

But what happened
to the headdress?

Pascal's next piece of evidence

suggests it was
deliberately removed.

So now I discovered
this hatching.

Do you see this hatching?

This is another layer of your

Yeah, another

Of the onion.

So, this is Leonardo
with his rubber?

Yes. You see, it's totally
different from the cracks.

It's not craquelure, no.

You see, this is clearly
to erase what is behind.

It's very important. Because
that explains how Leonardo,

from one stage, goes
to another stage.

Pascal's scans
are crucial evidence

of the way Leonardo worked.

Building up a painting
stage by stage.

Above the scratchings,
Pascal reveals

the first impression
of yet another layer.

The ghostly imprint of a face.

Like a Leonardo Turin Shroud.

Is that another head?

Yes.

How many heads is that so far?

This is the number three.

So the big head.

The big head.

The pearl head.
The pearl head.

And then there's another head.

Yes.

Now the eyes.

So it's a wonderful proof.

I discover two
crosses just here.

Oh!

That's extraordinary!

And these crosses do not
match with Mona Lisa's glance.

No.
No.

The
crosses clearly mark

a different set of pupils

looking in a
different direction.

The face behind Mona Lisa,

the face is turned 14 degrees
in the right direction.

So there she is,
she's looking like that.

So she should be like that.

Yeah.
More like that.

Also, eyebrows.

Can I just see this? Because
this is an important point.

Because Vasari says
specifically, you know,

that the eyebrows are
beautifully painted.

Yes. These eyebrows
And the "Mona Lisa,"

as we see her,
doesn't have eyebrows.

So, have you found
You can see it.

Yeah, look, here.

So there
are the eyebrows.

And here,
you have another mouth.

Look at this mouth. Nothing
to do with Mona Lisa.

Absolutely amazing.

She's barely smiling.

Do you see?

Because she turns
the head on the left,

the mouth is a little smaller.

You see?
Quite a lot smaller.

Yeah.

So, Pascal, you've
found a complete face.

Yes.
Inside

Inside.
The "Mona Lisa."

Yes.

Wow!

That's quite a big
discovery, isn't it?

Yes, it is.

Yes, it is.
Yes, it is.

Pascal's work has revealed for
the first time in 500 years,

a detailed earlier portrait
by Leonardo da Vinci.

It's the same size as
the face we see now,

but turned by 14 degrees.

There's clear evidence of a
different, sweptback hairstyle.

Elaborate ties at the top

of an earlier sleeve
are clearly visible.

There's even a suggestion

that she once held a
blanket in her lap.

Is this the portrait of
Lisa I've been looking for?

So throughout my journey,

I thought, well, it seems as
though they're talking about

two different pictures.

You seem to be saying to me

that, yes, there are
two "Mona Lisas,"

but they happen to be on
the same piece of wood.

Yes.

So this must surely
be Lisa del Giocondo.

Of course.
Francesco's wife.

I agree with you.

This is a real portrait
of Mrs. Lisa Gherardini.

Pascal's
pioneering work

marks an extraordinary
moment in the history of art.

By piecing together all the
details, then decoding the data

to identify the original
pigments used by Leonardo,

Pascal has been
able to construct

a digital photofit of the image.

It's a perfect match with
the historical record.

But if this computer
image represents

the original portrait
of Mona Lisa,

it's a portrait her
husband never received.

Instead, Leonardo
went on to paint

the world's most famous
picture over the top.

So there were two
"Mona Lisas" all along.

But how do we make sense
of these discoveries?

And what are we now to make
of Leonardo's masterpiece?

In search of the final
piece to the puzzle,

I'm meeting a woman
who's spent years

reconstructing the scene
of that day back in 1503

when Leonardo started
to paint Lisa.

Leading expert on renaissance
hairstyles and costumes,

Elisabetta Gnignera,

has based her work closely
on Pascal's findings.

Every Renaissance fashion
can be precisely pinpointed.

Whether to Rome in 1512,
or Florence in 1503.

So by recreating the
costume Pascal found

in the painting
beneath the painting,

Elisabetta can place and
date it very precisely.

Her results are a revelation.

Looking at the fashions shown

in these other
contemporary portraits,

this lady perfectly fits
with the historical image

of a wealthy Florentine lady

of the early years
of the 16th century.

I cannot see any
inconsistencies.

So, this must be Lisa del
Giocondo as Raphael painted her?

Yes, this is very close.

The closest version we
know to the Raphael sketch.

It's like a Polaroid.

It's like a Polaroid?

Yeah.

Raphael had actually seen
Leonardo's portrait of Lisa

when he drew this copy in 1504.

Apart from one slight
difference, the veil

it's identical to
Elisabetta's reconstruction

and Pascal's photofit.

It's compelling evidence
that Pascal has indeed

found the first version,
Leonardo's original Lisa,

lurking beneath
the finished work.

But where does all this leave
the picture we see today?

So, when you look at the
"Mona Lisa" in the Louvre,

as she is now,

from the point of view of
costume, what do you see?

To me, she is
not a real person

because there are so many
details which go in this sense.

Hmm. Can
you give me an example?

Yeah. The long hair
worn on her shoulder.

This wouldn't be conceivable

unless you were the
very high ranks,

or it was a posthumous portrait.

What about this sort
of sash of drapery

that comes over her shoulder?
The twist.

The twist.
Yeah.

This is the most interesting
element in Louvre's Gioconda.

Because GrecoRoman classical
art devoted such detail

only on one shoulder only.

To Venus,

and virtues like
purity, chastity, faith.

So that beautiful
strand of drapery

that seems to continue
the flow of the river

and the landscape behind,

that is not something
that a real woman

would have worn?
Not at all.

Even if it was a

It's more like an
attribute of a goddess?

Yes.

So the
Louvre painting shows

maybe a posthumous portrait.

Surely, then, she can
no longer be Mona Lisa.

Because Mona Lisa
outlived Leonardo.

Wow.

Now, for Elisabetta,
the moment of truth.

As the results of
years of research

and hard work finally
come together,

we can, at last, see
how Lisa del Giocondo,

the original Mona Lisa,
might have looked.

So, Elisabetta.

Yeah?
You have made the sleeves

that Pascal found.

And this is the line, you've

recreated the line there.
Yeah, exactly.

It's been
an elaborate process,

but it leads to
a genuine insight

into Leonardo's obsessive
relationship with this painting.

The key is in the colors,

which have been exactly matched
to Pascal's calculations.

The dress for the bodice, he
found greenishgray pigment.

And also, there's leaves.

We know how Leonardo
would call this color,

which was called Leonato.

That is the colors
of the lion's fur.

Leonato color.

I never knew that,
I never knew that.

You know what that
makes me think?

It makes me think,
when you say that,

that this is Leonardo
'cause, of course,

he didn't sign pictures,

but this is Leonardo's way
of signing the painting.

Exactly.
He loved to play games

with words.
Exactly.

So the color... That's great.

The color, Leonato, and
the knot pattern, Vinceri.

Yeah.
Leonato da Vinci.

Yeah. It could be, no?

We are not joking. I
agree with you totally.

You agree with me?
Yeah, exactly. Because...

For me, the presence
of a hidden signature

would answer a nagging question.

Why didn't he finish
his first version

and give it to Francesco?

Knotting his name
into her bodice,

it's like an act of possession.

As if Leonardo knew
this was always destined

to be more than a portrait.

Noone's painting but his own.

If we go one, two, three,

you look at me.

Our investigation has
revealed for the first time

what Leonardo's hidden
earlier portrait

might have looked like.

The portrait, surely, of the
Florentine merchant's wife,

Lisa del Giocondo.

We found a solution to the
historic inconsistencies

that have long baffled experts.

And, it seems,

we've discovered that the
portrait in the Louvre

may not be the Mona
Lisa after all.

So we're left with the
milliondollar question.

Who is she?

The one piece of evidence
that still stands out

is the eyewitness
account of de Beatis,

who had it from Leonardo himself

that the woman we now see

was painted at the behest
of Giuliano de' Medici.

So, who replaced Mona Lisa
in Leonardo's painting?

Did Giuliano commission
a posthumous portrait?

Perhaps of a lost love
idealized like a goddess?

For me, there's
only one candidate.

A woman with whom Giuliano had
a brief, passionate affair.

A woman who tragically died
giving birth to their son.

A little boy who was
still calling for her

when Giuliano
commissioned the picture.

Her name was Pacifica Brandano.

Could this be her?

It's a romantic notion,

but just as Leonardo never
gave the picture to Francesco,

he never gave it
to Giuliano either.

Instead, he kept the image of
the woman he'd signed in code

and made her more
his own than ever.

At the end of Leonardo's life,

the "Mona Lisa," this
shapeshifting picture

that had begun as the
portrait of one woman

and then metamorphosed
into another,

became something else again.

Namely, a work of art that
transcended portraiture

and turned into an expression
of all his knowledge,

all his philosophy.

The painting's like
a shimmering mosaic

in which Leonardo
has pieced together

all that he knows about
nature and about human nature.

And I think the key to
it is that famous smile.

Leonardo's way of saying

that while we might
strive to understand

this vast cosmos
that surrounds us,

in the end, it's our
destiny to pass through life

as swiftly as the smile that
flickers across a human face.

So the "Mona Lisa" really
isn't Mona Lisa after all,

but something much
more than that.

It's a painting of life itself,

as Leonardo had
come to think of it.

His way of painting us all.