Of the many self-portraits Rembrandt painted, this is one of the most iconic, not only for its poignant revelations of the self but for its painterly magnificence.

The initial effect is daunting, as though we are confronting an ill-tempered monarch or a wealthy man displeased with our conduct. The clothes worn are timeless and exotic. In place of a crown, a large velvet beret floats over Rembrandt’s head like a shifting cloud. The painter holds a staff as though it were a scepter. Yet this feeling of an uneasy confrontation diminishes as one focuses on the features. A veil of what seems like wariness shadows the painter’s face, which is blurred and scarred—by time, sorrow, and illness. Rembrandt was only fifty-two when he signed and dated this portrait. He was also a short man, but he portrayed his figure in monumental dimensions. It is almost as though he decided to pack his entire life into this image of himself, both what had gone before and what lay ahead.

His gigantic hands before us remind us of Rembrandt’s profession as an artist. They are, after all, the physical instruments with which he created this grand illusion.