It was born to be a masterpiece. This was Velázquez’s goal. He tells us this by observing us behind his canvas, which has become the main protagonist of his painting. And not only did he succeed, but today his famous work La família de Felipe IV, known as Las meninas, remains the great icon of Spanish painting, the star painting of the Prado museum. Just as La Gioconda is from the Louvre. Installed in a privileged space in the Basilical room, the immense oil continues to attract all eyes. It arouses so much fascination, that even the art historian Jonathan Brown coined a disorder, the so-called Las Meninas Fatigue Syndrome (SFLM).
It is not surprising that when the Ministry of Culture, headed by Javier Solana, and the museum managers decided to restore the work, they broke into a cold sweat. It meant too much for any mistake to happen. This week marks 40 years since the beginning of the work, which was entrusted to the great specialist of the time, John Brealey, director of the restoration department of the Metropolitan Museum in New York. If the decision could already be controversial because of the before and after that the work would experience, it was even more so that a foreign professional was chosen. Not only were critical voices raised, but there were even protests in the halls of the museum.
Fortunately, Las meninas were only dirty. And Brealey, cautious, always left the cotton swabs he used in plain view, so that everyone could see that he only removed dirt, not a drop of paint. But not only was the restoration carried out by a foreigner, but the person who financed it was also a foreigner. Her name was Hilly Mendelssohn, born in Berlin and descended from Sephardic Jews. He covered the expenses, almost three million pesetas, as a thank you to Spain, which granted him a passport during Nazism to be able to escape the barbarism during World War II. He even paid Brealey’s bills, installed at the Ritz. Anecdote aside, we already know the result. The painting recovered its original splendor, as we see it now. A fate very different from that of La Gioconda, buried under layers of varnish that almost hide it. Will the Louvre ever make the move?
