Is the Last Supper worth it? Fifteen minutes, weighed honestly

Why some people leave disappointed

I watched it happen for six years, and it is nearly always the same shape. Somebody has spent a large sum and a lot of planning effort, they file in with thirty-nine strangers, they look up, and about four minutes later they realise there is no second act. No side galleries, no route through, nothing else to do with the ticket. The visit does not build. It starts at its peak and then a member of staff says it is time. If that sounds like it would frustrate you, take the warning seriously rather than assuming you will be different, because plenty of thoughtful people are not.

The second thing that flattens people is the condition of the surface. Leonardo painted this on a dry wall instead of in true fresco, and it began deteriorating within his own lifetime. What is on that wall is not a bright, crisp picture. Anybody arriving with a printed reproduction in their head is arriving with something the room cannot match — I have written about what is actually visible on what you actually see.

The case for going anyway

Scale is the first thing, and no reproduction carries it. The mural covers the whole end wall of a long barrel-vaulted hall, and the room was built to be eaten in rather than looked at, which means you are standing where friars stood at a table with the painted table in front of them. Everything about the composition assumes that room and only works properly in it.

The second thing is the moment it depicts. Christ and the twelve apostles at the announcement of the betrayal, arranged in four groups of three, each group reacting differently. Once somebody points out the four threes you cannot stop seeing them, and reading the reactions is a task that comfortably fills a quarter of an hour. That is what turns fifteen minutes from a countdown into a short, concentrated thing rather than a rushed one.

What a guide adds to a quarter of an hour

More than you would think, because the constraint is attention rather than time. Fifteen minutes spent working out what to look at is a different experience from fifteen minutes spent looking, and the reviews for these tours say so consistently: people name their guide almost without exception. Liliane wrote that Barbara was informative, generous with her explanations and passionate about the subject. James praised his guide’s excellent knowledge of art history. Aleksandar thanked Sylva and said they learned a lot of new things about Milan. Not one of them is describing the room. They are describing the person who explained it, which tells you what the money is actually buying — the write-ups are in the tour reviews.

Who I would tell to skip it

Somebody on a tight budget with one day in Milan and no particular pull towards Leonardo. When the official ticket is unavailable, the cheapest route in is about four times face value, and that is a real sum to spend on fifteen minutes if the painting is on your list mainly because it is famous. The Duomo is a longer, cheaper morning. I would rather say that than sell you something you resent — and if the answer is still yes, the six options are laid out on the comparison page and the timing on the fifteen-minute page.

Frequently asked questions