The Maids of Honor

Las Meninas, also known as The Maids of Honor, was made much later in Diego Velázquez’s career, around 1656. That’s about 35 years after his earlier work like the Water Seller of Seville. By the time he painted Las Meninas, Velázquez had been working in the Spanish royal court for many years and had a close relationship with King Philip IV. His role at court wasn’t just as a painter—he held a number of official positions, some of them unusual for an artist.

One of those roles was the keeper of the king’s bedchamber. While that might sound strange today, it was actually a prestigious title that gave him both a salary and certain responsibilities, like organizing events and managing the king’s private rooms and household staff. It showed that Velázquez had the king’s trust. He wasn’t just seen as an artist but as someone who belonged to the king’s inner circle.

Another sign of how highly the king regarded Velázquez was that he gave him living quarters and a studio inside the palace itself—something that hadn’t been done before for someone in his position. That gave Velázquez direct access to the royal family, and it’s part of why he was able to paint scenes like Las Meninas, which show the royal household from an inside perspective.

There’s also a story about Velázquez painting a portrait of King Philip IV. Supposedly, someone had criticized him, saying he only knew how to paint faces. When the king repeated this to him, Velázquez is said to have replied, “I’m not even sure I can do that very well.” That story—whether it’s true or not—shows how he was known for being modest and smart in how he talked to powerful people. He knew how to carry himself at court, which helped him maintain the king’s favor.

Velázquez also traveled to Italy during his time at court, which was a big deal. The king sent him there not just to study art but to collect pieces for the royal collection. During this trip, Velázquez met Peter Paul Rubens, a painter and diplomat from Flanders who had connections with both the Spanish and French courts. The two artists traveled in Italy together, which probably gave Velázquez even more exposure to classical and Renaissance art.

All of that context matters for understanding Las Meninas. This painting wasn’t made by a young artist trying to prove himself—it was made by someone who had worked closely with the royal family for decades, had the king’s full trust, and had seen how art functioned across Europe. The result is a painting that includes the king’s daughter, the palace staff, and Velázquez himself, all inside his studio in the palace.

There’s been some confusion over where Las Meninas is actually set. One theory, as Professor Broderick suggested, is that it takes place in the royal library at El Escorial—a massive monastery and royal complex outside Madrid that housed part of the king’s collection. However, most current research agrees that the setting is a room in the Alcázar of Madrid, which was the royal palace at the time. More specifically, it's believed to be Velázquez’s studio in the palace, in a wing that also stored part of the royal art collection. Velázquez had been granted a studio space within the palace, and this gave him access to both the royal family and their collection of paintings.

The room itself is shown with tall walls and several large canvases leaning against them, which supports the idea that this was a working studio. There’s no solid primary source identifying it outright, so interpretations vary, but the presence of the artist, the canvas, and the informal yet staged composition strongly point to it being Velázquez’s studio within the palace.

Looking at the composition, the light comes in from the right-hand side, possibly from a high window, and moves diagonally across the space. This creates a raking light that hits the main figures in the foreground and helps guide the viewer’s eye from the front of the painting to the very back. The central figure is Infanta Margarita Teresa, the daughter of King Philip IV. She is brightly lit and placed in the middle of the composition, with her ladies-in-waiting—the meninas—flanking her on either side. Her position, combined with the light and surrounding figures, makes her the focus of the viewer’s attention.

Behind her, to the left, Velázquez has painted himself at work. We see the back of a large canvas facing us, and he appears to be in the middle of painting. Further back in the room, there are other members of the court: a nun, a clergyman, a dwarf girl, and another child or possibly a second dwarf, who seems to be nudging the dog lying on the floor in the front left. The inclusion of dwarfs and other attendants was historically accurate—they often served in royal households as companions for noble children.

In the far background, a man stands framed in the light of an open doorway. His identity isn’t confirmed, but he is commonly identified as José Nieto Velázquez (no known relation), who was either the queen’s chamberlain or possibly the palace aposentador, a role that included managing accommodations and supplies. Some sources—including Professor Broderick’s lecture notes—refer to him as the treasurer. In other commentaries, like the one by Tim Marlow, he’s described as the keeper of the accounts or the official in charge of household management. Either way, his role in the palace was administrative and important. The light that surrounds him, creating an almost glowing effect, draws attention to him, even though he’s set deep into the background.

Above the Infanta, on the wall, is a framed rectangle showing King Philip IV and Queen Mariana. The debate is whether this is a mirror or a painting. If it’s a mirror, it means the king and queen are standing outside the scene, in the viewer’s space, looking in—something that makes the composition much more complex. But the way it’s painted doesn't fully follow how a mirror would reflect light and space. So, some believe it’s actually a framed painting, and its placement is symbolic rather than literal. There's no clear documentation, so the meaning remains open.

The size of Las Meninas—about ten by nine feet—adds to the effect. It’s big enough to be immersive. Velázquez also uses a deep foreground-to-background layering technique. The closest thing to us in the composition is the dog lying on the floor. Then come the children and the meninas, followed by Velázquez at work, and then the doorway in the far background. That creates multiple levels of space in a single scene, giving it a sense of depth that was unusual at the time.

Las Meninas has always drawn a lot of questions—especially around what it’s actually showing. The setting is still debated. It could be the royal library at El Escorial, like Professor Broderick suggested, or more likely Velázquez’s studio inside the Alcázar of Madrid. The room has a high ceiling, a plain background, and several large canvases leaning against the back wall, which supports the idea that it’s a workspace for painting, not a formal gallery. There's no primary document confirming the setting, so the debate continues.

At the center of the painting is the young Infanta Margarita Teresa. She stands surrounded by her attendants—las meninas—as well as court officials, entertainers, clergy, and Velázquez himself. The painter appears at his easel on the left, working on a canvas that's turned away from us. The painting’s light comes from the right and cuts diagonally across the room, pulling the viewer's eye from foreground to background. The composition sets up a complex layering of space that makes it feel like there’s more going on than just a group portrait.

One of the most talked-about parts of the painting is the framed image on the back wall, just above Margarita’s head. It looks like a blurry reflection or painting of King Philip IV and Queen Mariana. Some scholars think it’s a mirror that reflects them standing just outside the picture—maybe in the same spot the viewer occupies. Others think it’s a painting within the painting. If it is a mirror, it’s not optically accurate, but it would serve a symbolic function—showing the king and queen as the true focus of attention, even if they’re not physically present in the space of the painting.

According to the traditional interpretation, Velázquez is shown mid-painting, working on a portrait of the king and queen while the Infanta and her entourage enter the room. He looks out toward the viewer—or maybe toward the royal couple—as if momentarily pausing to study them. If this interpretation is correct, the king and queen are standing where we are, outside the picture but reflected back into it.

Velázquez wears a red cross on his chest, which represents the Order of Santiago. He was officially knighted in 1659, three years after Las Meninas was completed, so it’s likely that the cross was added to the painting later, possibly after his death. Being admitted into the Order of Santiago was rare for someone without noble birth and almost unheard of for an artist. But it shows how high Velázquez had risen at court—not just as a painter, but as a recognized and trusted member of the king’s household.

There’s a wide range of figures in the painting, and their roles say something about the structure of the court. For example, the man in the doorway at the back has been identified in different ways. Some sources call him José Nieto, who was responsible for managing the queen’s quarters, possibly a chamberlain or aposentador. Others, like Professor Broderick, suggest he may have been the royal treasurer. Either way, he’s a court official, and the halo-like lighting around him gives him a quiet prominence.

The figures also reflect the court’s social structure. The two little people on the right—likely court entertainers—were part of royal households across Europe at the time. In Spanish court culture, bufones and jesters were common, and some had a surprising amount of access and influence. Velázquez painted many portraits of little people with a sense of dignity and realism that was unusual at the time. Here, the young boy on the right (possibly also a little person) nudging the dog adds a casual note to the scene.

Speaking of the dog—it lies at the bottom right, close to the Infanta. It could represent fidelity, a common interpretation based on other Renaissance and Baroque works, like the Arnolfini Portrait and Titian’s Venus of Urbino, where dogs appear in a similar position. But there’s also a more practical explanation. In Velázquez’s time, dogs helped keep fleas off people. Their presence in indoor settings wasn’t just symbolic—they served a purpose. Still, this particular dog looks more like a large hunting breed, which fits with Philip IV’s known love of the hunt. So, it might have been part of the royal kennels.

There are clergy in the background too—a nun and what may be a priest—standing quietly and watching. They don’t interact with the other figures much, but their presence adds a note of seriousness. It shows how closely the church and monarchy were connected, especially in a court that followed Catholic rules of conduct.

So, when you break it all down, Las Meninas is a snapshot of life at the Spanish court, staged inside the painter’s working space. The painting includes layers of people, light, and status, and brings together the artist, the royal family, and the household in a single moment. How much of it is staged, and how much is real? That’s still open to interpretation, but it reflects how Velázquez was able to move between roles—as court painter, courtier, and observer—all in one canvas.