A Moment in the History of Portraits
- Primarily Portraits

- 4 days ago
- 2 min read
Last year, I wrote about The Arnolfini Portrait by Flemish painter Jan van Eyck, specifically the symbolism embedded within it. Now, I’d like to take a closer look at Van Eyck himself and his pivotal place in the history of portraiture.
Few artists have had as profound an impact on portraiture as Jan van Eyck. The 15th-century Northern Renaissance master was among the first artists to paint not only aristocrats and royals, but also himself, his family, and everyday merchants and craftsmen. Prior to Van Eyck, commissioned portraits—largely reserved for the elite—were highly stylized and often failed to capture a true likeness of the sitter.

Enter Jan van Eyck.
His portraits reveal an extraordinary sensitivity to his sitters, paired with astonishing technical virtuosity. Faces feel individualized and psychologically present, not generic or symbolic. The startling naturalism of Van Eyck’s work is the result of his exceptional command of oil paint, which he pushed far beyond its existing limits. Through technical mastery and innovative methods, he achieved a convincing illusion of reality—skin seems to breathe, eyes appear alert, and surfaces shimmer with life.

Suddenly, portraits were no longer static representations but images pulsating with presence.
This breakthrough would alter the course of art history, influencing generations of artists throughout Northern Europe, including the masters of the Dutch Golden Age such as Rembrandt and Vermeer. For this reason, Van Eyck is often referred to as the “father of oil painting.”
If you happen to be in London in late 2026 or early 2027, be sure to visit the National Gallery for a rare and extraordinary opportunity to see all of Jan van Eyck’s surviving portraits gathered in one place.
And perhaps this is the perfect moment to consider having your own portrait painted—following in a tradition that stretches back centuries, and capturing your own presence with the same care and artistry that Van Eyck brought to his sitters. Who knows? One day, your portrait could be part of the conversation about the history of portraiture, too.




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