At the convent of Leonardo’s ‘Last Supper,’ Dominican friars still live, pray and welcome visitors

In the shadow of Leonardo’s masterpiece, Dominican friars maintain spiritual traditions at Santa Maria delle Grazie

The Rev. Paolo Venturelli has a unique perspective on one of the world’s most famous paintings. When visiting Leonardo da Vinci’s “The Last Supper,” the Dominican friar prefers to stand at a distance, across from the wall where the masterpiece was painted.

“From there, the painting looks as though it were painted in the middle of the refectory,” Venturelli explains. “It unleashes all kinds of human and spiritual reactions.”

Venturelli resides at Santa Maria delle Grazie, a convent and basilica in Milan where Leonardo worked in the 1490s at the request of Ludovico Sforza, then ruler of the city. The painting, which depicts Jesus announcing to his apostles that one will betray him, adorns what was once the friars’ dining hall.

Despite living mere steps from this artistic treasure, Venturelli and his fellow Dominicans have limited access to the masterpiece. After religious houses were suppressed during the Napoleonic era in the 18th century, the refectory passed into state hands. Today, it operates as the Cenacolo Vinciano, managed by Italy’s Regional Directorate of Museums of Lombardy.

“We don’t go often because we have to ask permission to enter,” Venturelli said, noting they must follow the same 15-minute viewing restriction as other visitors due to preservation requirements. “It no longer belongs to us.”

The Dominican community at Santa Maria delle Grazie currently consists of twelve priests and nine novices. Clad in the order’s distinctive white robes—or brown hooded capes during winter—the friars are a visible presence within the basilica’s grounds.

While many tourists focus exclusively on viewing “The Last Supper,” some venture into the adjacent church where they occasionally encounter the friars going about their daily duties. Visitor Maria Teresa Bruzzi, who traveled from Genoa, remarked, “We just came from the cloister and saw one of the friars taking care of the garden.”

The basilica offers architectural wonders beyond Leonardo’s painting. “When they visit the chapel of Our Lady of the Grazie, they can see that the beauty around them was built to give glory to the one who is beautiful in and of himself—God,” Venturelli said.

Unlike the Cenacolo, which requires advance tickets and closes on Mondays, the basilica opens daily and welcomes those seeking spiritual guidance. “Confessions are very much sought after and we maintain this service for the citizens of Milan but also for all visitors,” said the Rev. Llewellyn Muscat, prior of the Dominican community.

The friars offer confession in multiple languages, including Italian, English, French, German, and Maltese. “We cannot hold back the graces that the Lord gives to each one of us,” Muscat explained.

Dominicans first arrived at Santa Maria delle Grazie during its construction in the 15th century, though the order had established an earlier presence in Milan. Evidence of their devotion to St. Catherine of Siena remains visible in the basilica’s frescoes, which depict her alongside St. Catherine of Alexandria, associated with the Dominican tradition of scholarship.

This intellectual heritage is apparent within the convent itself, where bookshelves line the halls away from tourist paths. “Reading is part of our identity,” Muscat said.

While the friars don’t follow a rigid schedule, their days are structured around study, prayer, and ministry. Some celebrate Mass regularly, assist nearby parishes, oversee the novitiate program, teach at local Catholic institutions, or collaborate with the basilica’s cultural center on conferences and events.

The connection between the Dominican order and “The Last Supper” runs deeper than mere coincidence. Venturelli notes that most Dominican refectories feature this biblical scene, reflecting the order’s principles. “For us, it does not awaken an emotion about something that belongs to the past,” Muscat explained. “It is like a continuation in which we eat together with Jesus and his apostles, as though his words are also spoken to us.”

For Muscat, the painting resonates beyond its artistic significance. It represents a shared history that has weathered centuries of upheaval, requiring collective efforts to preserve both the artwork and the community’s traditions.

“‘The Last Supper’ is a call to my personal conscience and a call to the conscience of the order,” Muscat reflected. “Because here in the Grazie there are no individuals, but a community that works and welcomes.”

Today, the friars dine in a modern refectory deep within the convent, away from tourist areas—a modest room with several square tables rather than the single long table depicted in Leonardo’s masterpiece. While comfortable with their current arrangements, Muscat wonders if perhaps someday the historic refectory might return to their care.