He died on his thirty-seventh birthday. April 6, 1520. And Rome, by all accounts, stopped. His body was laid in state with his final, unfinished painting placed at the head of his bier. That painting, The Transfiguration, was not yet complete. But even incomplete, it was enough to make the city mourn. That is the kind of artist Raphael was. Not tortured. Not restless. Luminous. Now, remember what we established in the earlier lectures. Leonardo left behind a method — empirical, patient, endlessly observational. Michelangelo left behind a struggle — heroic intensity pressed into marble and paint. Raphael's unique contribution was his ability to synthesize the strengths of both Leonardo and Michelangelo. Arriving in Florence around 1504, he studied their work and developed his own style, characterized by harmony and clarity. Raffaello Santi was born in Urbino on April 6, 1483. His father, Giovanni Santi, was a court painter there, which meant Raphael grew up inside a humanist environment where art and ideas were daily conversation. He became an independent master around 1500 — still a teenager. His early style absorbed the clarity and balanced compositions of Perugino, whose influence shaped Raphael's initial style. Think of Perugino's work as a clean architectural blueprint. Raphael took that blueprint and began filling it with something warmer, more alive. In 1508, Pope Julius II summoned Raphael to Rome. The commission: redecorate the papal apartments, known as the Stanze. Four rooms. Raphael and his workshop would spend years on them, completing the project between 1508 and 1524. The Stanza della Segnatura organized knowledge into major domains — theology, philosophy, poetry, and justice. Each wall received a fresco. The philosophy wall became The School of Athens, a masterpiece showcasing Raphael's innovative use of perspective and composition. That fresco is among the most celebrated images in Western art. At its center stand Plato and Aristotle, side by side. Plato points upward — toward ideal, eternal forms. Aristotle gestures outward and downward — toward the earthly, the empirical, the observable world. Two philosophies. One image. Perfect equilibrium. Allan, that tension between the ideal and the real is exactly what Raphael himself embodied as an artist. He was painting his own method into the composition. Here is where Raphael's genius becomes genuinely counterintuitive. His work looks effortless. That ease is deceptive. For example, his paintings of the Madonna and Child — tender, carefully organized, emotionally clear — show his gift for combining feeling, clarity, and composition. His monumental figures in the Vatican frescoes carry Michelangelo's anatomical weight without the raw intensity. He borrowed the lighting from one master and the musculature from another, then dissolved both into something entirely his own. That means the harmony you see is not simplicity. It is the hardest synthesis in Renaissance art. Raphael was buried in the Pantheon — one of Rome's most prestigious resting places, and an extraordinary honor for a painter. His workshop functioned as a full enterprise, disseminating his designs through assistants, prints, and tapestries. Later generations treated his compositions as models for artistic training. [short pause] Allan, the takeaway from this entire course is this: Leonardo observed the world until it revealed its secrets. Michelangelo fought the world until it surrendered its beauty. Raphael listened to both of them — and answered with clarity. Three different temperaments. One extraordinary moment in human history.