A Pilgrimage Through Texas: Velázquez in the Lone Star State 

by Orlando Graves Bolaños, Museum Educator, Schools and Teacher Programs, Blanton Museum of Art

There are few places outside of Spain where you can view so many standout works by painter  Diego Velázquez (1599–1660)—and yet, right here in Texas, there are currently seven  works by the Spanish artist on view in museums around the state. Why is this so remarkable? Velázquez was an extraordinary painter capable of portraying all of his sitters with dignity and  humanity. This talent was paired with his ambition to climb the social ladder and obtain the freedom to choose his own subject matter and compositions. This freedom, in some respects, marks the beginning of a new chapter in the arts where artists were taking more control of the whole creative process. 

In 17th-century Spain— sometimes known as the Siglo de Oro or Golden Age, despite being a time of imperial decadence, an artistic flourishing was underway: Miguel de Cervantes (1547-1616) published Don Quixote, andTeresa de Avila (1515-1582) brought on a poetic and spiritual enlightenment. Velázquez was a talented young Andalusian painter whose eye could perceive humanity in its most subtle gradations. He captured sitters of all classes with dignity. While he had the technical mastery to become a successful court painter, what set him apart was his ambition: he wanted not only to depict nobility but to ascend to noble status himself—at a time when the social ladder was all but immovable. 

Close to power in his choice of subjects, yet free from the constraints of a religious narrative, Velázquez became an artist who explored the human condition through a revolutionary visual language. The brilliance of his technique, best perceived in the looseness of his brushwork, the atmospheric light, the psychological depth of his portraits, made others finally acknowledge the painter’s role beyond that of artisan to intellectual. In many ways, he was the first modern artist, conscious that with each painting he was shaping not only a legacy but also a new conception of what an artist could be. 

📍Houston, Texas – Kitchen Maid

Our journey begins at the Museum of Fine Arts Houston, where an early Velázquez quietly commands attention. Kitchen Maid (circa 1620),  represents one of the earliest and most revealing windows into the artist’s formative period in Seville, Spain. 

At first glance, Kitchen Maid could be mistaken for a genre scene—a young woman absorbed in her domestic labor, her hands busy, her gaze turned slightly inward. Yet in Velázquez’s rendering, the ordinary becomes transcendent. He paints her with the same nobility and dignity that he would later reserve for kings and cardinals. The background is dark; the light rakes across the figure, illuminating the textures of earthenware, linen, and flesh with tender precision. It is a work that whispers rather than proclaims, and in its quiet humanity, it foreshadows everything that Velázquez would become. 

This painting also opens a conversation about race and class in early modern Spain. Velázquez depicted this figure, often described as being of Moorish descent, several times early in his career.  In a society stratified by birth, her presence in a painting of such grace and intimacy is itself radical. Velázquez refuses to render her as an anonymous laborer; instead, she becomes the center of the composition. 

Standing before this painting, you feel not only the texture of time but also the energy of discovery—the awareness that you’re witnessing a young artist representing real human lives. 

📍Fort Worth, Texas – Don Pedro de Barberana

Leaving Houston, we journey north to Fort Worth, where the Kimbell Art Museum houses Don Pedro de Barberana (1631–33), a portrait that  exemplifies Velázquez’s ability to choose sitters strategically. By the time he made this painting, Velazquez was already the court painter to King Philip IV. The move from Seville to Madrid—facilitated by his father-in-law and mentor Francisco Pacheco (1564-1644) and by his powerful patron, the Conde-Duque de Olivares—brought him into proximity with the court’s most refined intellectual circles. Velázquez’s portraits from this period not only reveal his mastery of likeness but also capture the sitter’s personality, allowing us, the  viewers, to feel we might know these people. 

In Don Pedro de Barberana, the sitter’s dark attire and somber background convey stillness and gravity. Yet it is in the subtleties—the red embroidery against shiny black fabric, the confident turn of the head, the understated light that reveals the sitter’s hand resting on the hilt of his sword—that Velázquez reveals his genius. He understood that portraiture was not only about costume or flattery, but also about capturing the essence of a person. 

What makes this painting remarkable is its balance between grandeur and restraint. Don Pedro is rendered with an authority that feels inwardly confident rather than a caricature. Velázquez’s handling of paint—his soft transitions, his ability to suggest rather than delineate—creates an atmosphere that is as intellectual as it is visual. It is as though the sitter breathes within the frame. 

📍Dallas, Texas – Sibyl with Tabula Rasa

From Fort Worth, our pilgrimage continues eastward to Dallas, to the Meadows Museum at Southern Methodist University, often called “the Prado on the Prairie,” holds one of the most important collections of Spanish art outside of Spain. Sibyl with Tabula Rasa (1648) is one of the most enigmatic works of Velázquez’s mature years and a crown jewel in that collection. To stand before it is to encounter Velázquez not as a court painter but as an artist engaged with universal themes.  

Here, Velázquez turns to allegory. The sibyl—an ancient female prophet—appears against a neutral background, her gaze directed away from the viewer, reminiscent of Kitchen Maid, her expression contemplative. In her hands she holds a tabula rasa, a blank slate with its smooth surface ready to receive the inscriptions of our experience. Unlike the theatrical grandeur of most Baroque allegories, Velázquez’s sibyl feels introspective, almost modern. She is neither mythic nor idealized but positioned in such a way that we might project ourselves into the scene . Quick, confident brushstrokes of translucent white represent the gauzy fabric of her clothing and allude to the artist’s treatment of cloth in his future masterpiece, Las Meninas (1656). 

This work  reflects Velázquez’s intellectual depth and his ongoing exploration of the relationship between reality and representation. The sibyl’s face, softly modeled and lit from within, suggests she is actively engaged in envisioning the future. The paint surface—thin, luminous, almost breathing—shows the artist’s late mastery: he paints with air and light as much as with pigment. 

📍Austin, Texas – Gaspar de Guzmán, Count-Duke of Olivares
(on loan from The Hispanic Society Museum & Library, New York)

If one continues with this pilgrimage  the journey would conclude in Austin, at the Blanton Museum of Art, where the exhibition Spirit & Splendor: El Greco, Velázquez, and the Hispanic Baroque gathers works that evoke the grandeur, theatricality, and emotional intensity of the 17th century. Among them, a grand portrait of the Conde Duque de Olivares—one of Velázquez’s most powerful patrons—anchors the show. 

The Conde-Duque de Olivares, often depicted as the quintessential man of power, appears not as a caricature of authority but as a figure weighed by responsibility, and the physical weight of his gold chain. Velázquez paints him in rich black depicting different textures, and restrained gestures. It is as much a psychological portrait as it is one of authority, with the riding crop, sword, and a discreet key peeking above his belt signaling the Conde-Duque’s power in the Spanish court. Let us not forget he was the minister who brought Velázquez into royal service, shaping his future and, in many ways, his place in art history.  

Each stop along this journey reveals a different aspect of Velázquez’s genius: the empathy of the Kitchen Maid, the dignity of Don Pedro de Barberana, the introspection of the Sibyl, and the monumental humanity of the portraits that transcend the sitter’s social status. Collectively, they trace a life devoted to both beauty and truth. 

Yet there is another layer to this pilgrimage. It is not merely about viewing paintings; it is about engaging with Velázquez’s central idea—that the artist is both a witness and storyteller. Whether depicting a servant, a soldier, or a king, Velázquez insists on painting his sitters in a deeply supportive way. His brush does not discriminate; it reveals.

The museums that house these works—the MFAH, the Kimbell, the Meadows, and (temporarily) the Blanton—become sites of encounter, places where we are invited to contemplate how vision, power, and humanity intertwine.

As you travel through this pilgrimage, you may begin to sense that Velázquez’s art is less about representation and more about revelation. His genius lies not in the perfection of form, but on how the imperfection of life is made visible—in brushstrokes that dissolve into air, in gestures that never quite complete an idea. I’m thinking of his own self portrait within the Meninas, where if you look closely, you’ll see his hand appears to be caught moving. 

To travel this route is to follow the trace of an artist who transformed the world simply by learning to see it anew. Perhaps that is the true pilgrimage: to look again, with Velázquez’s eyes, and find dignity where we least expect it. 

Spirit & Splendor: El Greco, Velázquez, and the Hispanic Baroque is on view at the Blanton Museum of Art, The University of Texas at Austin, through February 1, 2026.

Spirit & Splendor: El Greco, Velázquez, and the Hispanic Baroque is organized by the Hispanic Society Museum & Library, with support from The Museum Box.

Major support for this exhibition at the Blanton is provided by The Moody Foundation.

This presentation is organized by Holly Borham, Curator of Prints, Drawings and European Art and Rosario I. Granados, Marilynn Thoma Curator, Art of the Spanish Americas, Blanton Museum of Art