03/09/2026
One of those sweaty-palm moments in front of a painting…
There are paintings you admire in books, on screens and in reproductions. And then there are paintings you actually stand in front of.
For me, Jan van Eyck’s The Arnolfini Portrait, painted in 1434 and hanging in the National Gallery, was definitely the latter.
I knew the painting, of course. The couple, the little dog, the chandelier, the sumptuous clothes and all those wonderfully strange little details.
But what completely captivated me when I saw it in the flesh was the mirror.
Look closely and that tiny convex mirror reflects the room behind the couple — and two tiny figures entering through the doorway. One of them may even be van Eyck himself.
And directly above it he has written:
“Johannes de Eyck fuit hic. 1434”
“Jan van Eyck was here. 1434.”
How brilliant is that?
And the more you look, the more mysterious the painting becomes.
One candle is burning while the other appears extinguished. The little dog has traditionally been seen as a symbol of fidelity. The woman’s gathered green dress has led generations to believe she was pregnant, although it may simply be the fashion of the time.
And then there are ten tiny scenes of Christ’s Passion surrounding the mirror.
For years, the painting was thought to depict a marriage. Today, that interpretation is far less certain. Some have even suggested it could be a memorial to the woman, perhaps following her death in childbirth.
I couldn’t tear myself away from it. Breathtaking. Absolutely captivating.
And once again it reminded me that the story behind a painting can be every bit as powerful as the painting itself.
So here’s the question that kept going through my mind as I stood there:
Was van Eyck painting a wedding, a memorial… or something far more mysterious?
