In the National Gallery, Semir Zeki stands in front of Venus and Mars by Sandro Botticelli, enthusing quietly but animatedly about the hidden subtext that he sees in the figures. The gallery label tells of love conquering war, but he ignores it. In Venus’s ambivalent expression and the slack pose of Mars, Zeki sees a woman unsatisfied by a disappointing lover. It is this ambiguity that draws him to the piece. “I think this is really quite beautiful,” he says.
Beauty is very much on Zeki’s mind, and not just because he is surrounded by stunning paintings. For much of his life, he has been investigating how humans see the world while feeding his love of fine art. Now, in his seventies, his thinning hair