Venus, the goddess of love, reclines on her bed, while her son Cupid holds up a mirror. She gazes into it, but her reflection is blurred and cast in shadow. We cannot see who she really is. Velazquez implores us to conjure our own image of beauty, and to complete the image ourselves.
Velazquez has this unrivalled ability to paint a scene as if he’s recalled it from a foggy dream. He applies each brush stroke with such efficiency, and with such thin paint, the Rokeby Venus barely appears to exist. At first, our eyes are automatically drawn to Venus, Cupid and the mirror, but look closely and you’ll notice Cupid’s back foot and Venus’ left foot are mere silhouettes. Cupid’s wings are comprised of simple sweeps, and even the complex drapery has this same ephemeral quality, as if it could fade away at a moment’s notice.