Admittedly, I have never understood why people joke at Art History as a “useless” degree, like it is somehow the epitome of “wasting” an education. At 19, I lacked the language to explain to people why it was a good thing that I was switching my major from International Business to Art History. All I could really articulate was that the IB program wasn’t fun, but sitting in a small room with a whirring slide project filled me with joy and my energy levels are fueled by that kind of joy and satisfaction.

What I know now is that I loved Art History because it was using something I loved (art, history, and learning about human nature) to teach me the important skills that I have used to succeed in life and career. Instead of dry lessons, I was accruing skills in a demonstrably hands-on way, we were just looking at this differently. That’s still how I work today: gather data and approach the puzzle creatively and differently from the typical.

Skills required to complete a BA in Art History:

-          Written and verbal communication (long research papers come with presentations!)

-          Critical thinking

-          Creative thinking and analysis

-          The ability to take multiple approaches to solving problems or analyzing a situation

-          The ability to work independently and collaboratively

-          Adaptability

-          Research and synthesis

-          Organization and time management

-          Effectiveness when arguing a point

-          Cultural awareness

-          The ability to look at a question in situ: knowledge of the era, the culture, the tools and materials the individual, all of the circumstances that have come together to create one object.

If I put Mona Lisa in front of you, what would you know about her other than Leonardo Da Vinci painted it and she’s famous? What if I told you that her clothing is that of a pregnant woman or new, nursing mother? She’s draped in clothing that would not have been seen by people outside of the home. Consider too that Da Vinci was sexually and romantically attracted to men. Does that explain how he had access to private, intimate spaces? Did you know that portraiture of women 15th & early 16th century Italy nearly always showed them in profile? In stark contrast, Mona Lisa is in a ¾ turn. She has arms. Hands. She’s daring to gaze out beyond the fourth wall as that famous smile plays upon her lips. Take in the technique too. Look at how realistic she is, how you can see her skull under her skin and the aliveness that comes from that. Notice how flesh and bone is created through the technique of sfmato, the use of light and soft, careful transitions between tones and colors. See how that same technique is used to create the delicate gauze of her veil. The soft, rippling folds of her clothing shows off Da Vinci’s love of the play between light and curves.

There is an innate understanding that she’s real because of Da Vinci’s unusually deep knowledge of anatomy. Whatever part of our inner animal recognizes other humans on a cellular level, does so because of the forethought that was given to each individual paint that was made, how the hues were mixed, every movement of the brush, and the geometry of perspective. She is flesh and bone with touchable skin. Viewers can tell that she is sitting across from us, daring to meet our eyes. Her contemporaries tended to be flat and focused on conveying the sitter’s wealth, status, and piety. Mona Lisa is daring to do what only men did: look at the viewer.

Draped in dark silk with gold embroidery, there is no doubt she is wealthy. Just as her veil does suggest piety, it also suggests an unprecedented comfort with the circumstances of her sitting for the artist. That delicate veil almost seems to be slipping back, perhaps sliding off her hair which is hanging loose as it would only in private spaces. The softness in her clothes suggest a lack of structural garments hiding beneath the fabric. Under the gauzy wrapping of silk, you can see where her sleeves are tied. The painting has darkened with age, typical of certain kinds of paint and the oxidation of aging varnish. Looking at the changing hues and comparing her to the version of the painting known as Gioconda, we can image there may have been a brightness to her sleeves and even more evidence of the high quality of the silk she wears. As previously mentioned, her clothing is typical of that of a pregnant woman or new mother. Is it a celebration of her husband’s successful career and the successful delivery and health of the couple’s third child? Perhaps, but it is also worth nothing that her clothing is akin to the soft drapes typically seen adorning the Virgin Mary, just depicted in dark silks rather than Mary’s symbolic pale blue.

That is to say nothing of the unusual background – a nonspecific rocky landscape – and how it creates perspective while adding to the mystery. There is also her name and the possibility that the painting wasn’t called The Mona Lisa until the 19th century. You can’t discount etymology either. Her name wasn’t Mona. Mona is a form of address akin to “Mrs.” and, also, a shortening of Madonna. There’s also the theory that her black veil is less personal style and more funerial. And the people who believe her face belies a medical mystery to be solved. A dive into her provenance is fascinating too. How did a commissioned portrait end up becoming a painting that Da Vinci worked on util his death? Surely, there would be a version for the model since it was a commissioned portrait. The version we all know to be hanging in the Louvre belonged to the rich, powerful, and royal. What about the version that is currently in Spain? In 500 years, documents are bound to be lost and myth mixed with fact. Modern understanding of the circumstances of her creation and ownership must acknowledge 18th century Western Europe’s fascination with the Italian Renaissance and certain masters like Da Vinci. Myth will always arise from cults of fascination and the captivating smirk as she gazes past the 4th wall turns the mythmaking up to eleven.

I’ve hardly scratched the surface. There is a wealth of information and misinformation surrounding this one painting. Even in this shallow skimming I’ve done, I have needed to draw on different areas of knowledge. I’ve needed to understand how to discern fact from myth, to recognize technique and symbolism. I’ve relied on my knowledge of contemporary portraits and aspects of the artist as an individual. I’ve turned over a million stones, sorted the facts, considered the gaps in information, and the power of the West’s fascination with the artist. I’ve taken those stones and looked at them from different angles, with different focuses, close up and far away. It’s an exercise in careful analysis and pure creativity. The Italian Renaissance wasn’t even my main area of study.

How many other degree programs require and allow for so much?

To the casual viewer or an ATS algorithm, Art History may look like fluff. I would argue, however, that Art History is the best and most challenging way to learn both hard and soft skills required in business and in life.