When most people think of Leonardo da Vinci, they picture the painter of the Mona Lisa or the inventor who sketched flying machines centuries ahead of his time. Yet Leonardo was also a sculptor; though almost all traces of his three-dimensional work have vanished. What remains are tantalising clues: a few references in his notebooks, the testimony of contemporaries, and one surviving bronze horse’s head believed to be linked to his most ambitious sculptural project.
During the late 15th century, Florence and Milan were centres of artistic innovation. The Italian Renaissance was in full bloom, a period when art, science, and philosophy intertwined. Sculpture, in particular, was reaching new heights under masters like Donatello and Verrocchio (Leonardo’s own teacher). It was within this vibrant environment that Leonardo turned his attention to form, balance, and anatomy in the round; exploring the same fascination with movement and proportion that animated his paintings.
His most famous sculptural commission was the Gran Cavallo, a colossal bronze horse conceived in the 1480s for the Duke of Milan, Ludovico Sforza. At over seven metres tall, it was intended to be the largest equestrian statue ever made. Leonardo spent years studying horse anatomy, crafting clay models and detailed sketches that reveal both his scientific precision and artistic vision. But before the final casting could begin, war broke out; the bronze earmarked for the statue was melted down to make cannon. The monumental clay model was left exposed and ultimately destroyed by invading soldiers. The Da Vinci Science Center in the US, actually now features a recreation of this legendary work (pictured below).
Accounts suggest that Leonardo created or designed other sculptural works; busts, reliefs, and experimental mechanical pieces; though none have survived. Many of his works were lost to time, conflict, and the fragility of materials, as clay, plaster, and wax were often reused or eroded before they could be cast in metal. This impermanence, while tragic, reflects the turbulent world of Renaissance Italy, where art, politics, and war were in constant motion.
The loss of Leonardo’s sculptures leaves us with an intriguing gap in art history; a reminder that even the greatest minds can be at the mercy of circumstance. Yet through his drawings and unfinished projects, we glimpse what might have been: sculptures that would have united his mastery of engineering, anatomy, and beauty in motion. In that sense, Leonardo’s sculptural vision lives on not just in fragments of clay, but in the enduring legacy of those who, centuries later, continue to explore the harmony between art and mechanics.