John Haberin New York CityJan VermeerI believe in Vermeer's perfection, but I want to imagine his doubts.
And yet her private chamber naturally shows not a trace of a man's presence, his love, or his loss.
Part is the echo of fabric and pearls in the shimmer of sunlight through a blue glass window at left.
Who is to judge which light is truer? Is it the light within the Last Judgment, or the light that descends through the window to outline its tracery, modulate its stained and unstained glass, and catch her pearls? Some modern critics try to encompass them both, with terms such as text or allegory.
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