It wasn’t until I stood in front of Diego Velázquez’s Las Meninas that I understood that I, as the viewer, was the subject.

I had seen the painting countless times in reproduction. I knew the arguments, the diagrams, the mirror at the back of the room reflecting the king and queen. Intellectually, it all made sense. But none of that prepared me for the quiet, almost disorienting recognition that occurs when you are actually there, standing where the king and queen stood.

It is not a secret that I am obsessed with nineteenth-century French art, but so are most people with an avid interest in art. Besides the extraordinary work produced, the interpersonal relationships are also highly interesting, both the rivalries and the mutual aid. Monet could not have survived without Bazille; the Impressionists probably would not have been shown without Caillebotte. Rodin both helped and undermined Camille Claudel. And, of course, what would have happened to Van Gogh without Theo?

In dawn of the 20th century in France was marked by a vibrant and transformative artistic landscape, with the Impressionist movement having laid a fertile ground for the emergence of diverse modern art expressions.1 At the heart of this era stood Claude Monet, a foundational figure of Impressionism, celebrated for his profound ability to capture the subtle nuances of light and his dedication to exploring singular subjects through extensive series of paintings. Among his most iconic works are those depicting water lilies, a subject with which his name became intrinsically linked in the public consciousness.