Picasso was once suspected of stealing the “Mona Lisa.”
When the “Mona Lisa” was stolen from the Louvre on August 21, 1911, the art world immediately went into mourning — and began wondering who was behind the dastardly deed. One man soon under suspicion was none other than Pablo Picasso, whose name was given to the authorities by Honore-Joseph Géry Pieret, the former secretary of Picasso’s friend (and famed poet) Guillaume Apollinaire. Pieret had previously stolen at least two Bronze Age Iberian sculptures from the Louvre and sold them to the then-up-and-coming cubist artist, who used them as inspiration for his painting “Les Demoiselles d’Avignon.” (At the time, the Louvre security was rather lacking; the paintings weren’t even bolted to the walls.) A terrified Picasso and Apollinaire were eventually brought to court, where it was determined that Picasso was indeed in possession of stolen art — just not the “Mona Lisa.” (The Iberian statues were quickly returned, and the judge let both Picasso and Apollinaire off with a warning.)
The search for the mysterious “Mona Lisa” took two years, during which time its popularity grew exponentially as reproductions were splashed across newspapers worldwide. In December 1913, Vincenzo Peruggia — an Italian employee of a firm that cut glass for the Louvre — emerged as the real thief after he tried to sell the painting to an antique dealer in Florence. (Peruggia is said to have believed that the “Mona Lisa” rightfully belonged to Italy and expected a reward for “returning” it.) Fortunately, the antiques dealer called the police. Peruggia later served eight months in prison for his crime. Suffice to say that the Louvre’s security has vastly improved in the century since, and the painting isn’t leaving its exhibit any time soon.
When the portrait (painted by Leonardo da Vinci in 1503–1519) was first displayed at the Louvre in 1815, it didn't take long for admirers to become smitten by it — and her. Shortly thereafter, a number of “suitors bearing flowers, poems and impassioned notes climbed the grand staircase of the Louvre to gaze into her ‘limpid and burning eyes,’” according to Dianne Hales, author of Mona Lisa: A Life Discovered. It wasn’t just museumgoers who developed a fancy for the painting, though: Napoleon once hung it in his bedroom and referred to its subject as “Madame Lisa.” Years later, Hales adds, he became “infatuated with a young Italian woman who bore a remarkable resemblance to the lady in the painting.” That woman was Teresa Guadagni, who just so happened to be a descendant of Lisa del Giocondo, the actual subject of da Vinci's masterpiece.
