RMPBS: I'm paraphrasing, but the film begins with a quote from Leonardo where he says a good painter must depict two things: the person and then the intentions of their mind. Right. That seems to me like something you do with your films. Is it harder to do that when your subject is someone who we don't have interviews with or archival footage?
KB: No, I don't think so. It's very kind of you to say that. It took me hearing Leonardo saying it to realize, ‘boy, I wish that's what we were doing.’
And so I think what we've tried to do in all the films is what I call … emotional archeology. He's [Leonardo] already doing that and doing it in such great dimensions.
Another way of answering your question, which is to the point, is to say one of the big jokes is that his most famous painting [Mona Lisa] is of a wife of a well-to-do silk merchant. And we make jokes about her smile. When you see this film, you won't ever joke about it again. Or you can joke about it, but you will know why it is what it is. That is to say, it will be so transforming to get to that place where whatever's enigmatic and therefore uncomfortable for us — and therefore we have to make it funny or too mysterious — you'll realize that what he was able to touch was something so essential to this human project.
And gee, you know, just to be close to that for a few years, I consider that one of the luckiest aspects of my job.
RMPBS: You could make a documentary just on the “Mona Lisa” or just on “The Last Supper.” Was it difficult to try to balance how much time you were spending with each of his works?
KB: Getting to know the arc of a life is a really important thing. And so to me, I'm actually proud of the fact that “The Last Supper” scene or the “Mona Lisa” scene — “Last Supper” is the longest scene about anything in the film — are still short and even one of my favorite paintings, “The Virgin of the Rocks,” is under three minutes and makes me cry every time I see it.
It's just so powerful. And so it was important for us to be able to gobble the whole of him [Leonardo] up. And it's interesting. In his biography, if you’re looking for lots of little tidbits, you're not going to get much. There's very little that we know about him. We know some important things that are sort of in our tabloid sensibility. All right, he's gay. He's born out of wedlock. We know … a few things, but not the way we know the ins and outs of moments of Jackie Robinson's life or Muhammad Ali's life.
And so in a way, that's liberating. So then you can say, ‘yeah, sure, here. Here are the things we know.’ But isn't it better to be wondering about this first real painting on his own? “The Annunciation” or the “Virgin of the Rocks” or “The Last Supper” or the “Mona Lisa,” or the anatomy, or the drawings, or the inventions or also what's going on in Italy?
RMPBS: One of the historians talks about how at the end of Leonardo's life, there's this kind of disillusionment, and he's disappointed that he's not going to be able to finish all these things. I'm wondering how you might relate to that.
KB: [Laughs]. Well, you know what? There's a couple of things. He speaks about death with a kind of anger earlier on, and I kind of went, ‘why? You know so much about life and death is such a part of life. And you're going to be dissecting cadavers, and you're understanding the beauty of a man who dies of natural causes at that age. What's that unfulfilled thing for you?’
I know for myself that if I were given a thousand years to live — and I will not be — I would not run out of topics in American history. So there is that sense now, not just of urgency, but of greed [laughs].
You know, I'm working on more films now at 71 years old than I have ever worked on at one time.
RMPBS: I was revisiting some of your previous work and some of the previous press you've done about your older films, and I want to float a comparison by you and, and see how it lands. There's a part in the film where they're talking about Leonardo creating for the sake of creating. He’s not finishing his work, but he's just really interested in the process.
And that reminded me of the Frank Lloyd Wright documentary that you made. You spoke about how Wright’s roofs might have leaked or sagged in certain places, but it was really just about the creation of it all. Do you think that's a fair comparison?
KB: Here's the thing — and this is an intimate human thing — Frank Lloyd Wright isn't a very nice person. I didn't like him. Of all the biographies that we've done, he's the last guy I'd want to go out and have a beer with, or get in a car and do a cross-country trip with. Leonardo? Absolutely.
But you're absolutely right. When you are at that level of pushing the limits of everything, you're asking too much of every single project. Not in a bad way, but just after a while, the limitations in that frame of that painting, of that piece of poplar that he's working on, it's just … ‘I'm done.’ You know, it's not what the commission has suggested, but he said that to himself: ‘Tell me, tell me, tell me. When is it ever finished?’
And there are a few spectacularly finished works of his, ‘The Last Supper’ included. And so, yeah, I get it. Frank Lloyd Wright is a towering genius and is, I think, still without equal among American architects. But you're not drawn to him in the same way. Leonardo compels so much. There's an arrogance about Wright and a kind of egomania about him, a selfishness that I haven't yet haven't yet felt with Leonardo.
RMPBS: What is the one thing that you hope people take away from this film?
KB: You know, it's sort of the question and it's one that we resolutely refuse to answer. Not because it's not a good question. It's that we make a film,and then when it's done, it's not ours anymore. It's yours. And then it's really my question to you: ‘What do you take away from this?’
Because we don't want to prescribe a certain area of inquiry on your own, nor do we wish to say, ‘this is exactly the way that you should approach it.’
We just have complex, layered narratives. And so what you get is what you get. I love this guy. I wish that my life was filled with as much energy and curiosity and observational skills as his. It's not. It hasn't been. It will never be. But it's okay to want to be like him.
RMPBS: One of my takeaways was that I felt profoundly dumb in comparison to this guy.
KB: Leonardo, no matter how small he makes you feel, that's a good thing. When we were working on the national parks [documentary], I came across a quote from a guy who was writing about Mount Denali in Alaska in the nineteen-teens. It was then called Mount McKinley … and he said it reminds you of your atomic insignificance, right? That's a good thing. Because strangely, in the paradoxical ways … experiencing your own insignificance makes you larger in spirits. Just as the egotist in our midst is diminished by his or her self-regard.
That's why I can't put Frank Lloyd Wright and Leonardo in the same place, because one is diminished by that self-regard and the other is so humble in the face of this great handiwork, which in nature and in Colorado you have in abundance. You look out your window and you have that possibility to be awakened in that moment by something bigger and older than yourselves.
And yeah, I suppose it can make you feel small, but that also might be an inspiring aspect.
RMPBS: Well, Ken, is there anything else you'd like to add?
KB: This has been great. Thank you.
RMPBS: Thank you so much for your time. It's good to see you again.
KB: My pleasure. Nice to see you.