Innocent X, Portrait of Scientist [ 36” x 48” ] Carbon pencil, blackening watercolours, and inks on paper mounted to canvas · [ 2015–2025 ]
The mask of knowing, and the realization that much of the miracle of science is miracle.
This portrait reimagines the figure of Innocent X—borrowing from Velázquez's stern papal gaze—as a modern scientist ( perhaps the smartist man I know ) seated on a throne, eyes sharp and searching, hands resting folded in his lap. “He puts on a brave face”: lines of concentration, the weight of inquiry etched deep, yet a quiet intensity burns behind the eyes—the drive to know, to test, to push beyond what is given.
Blackening drips trail across his papal robes, pooling around the figure like spilled ink or leaked data, symbolizing the slow saturation of knowledge with consequence. What the scientist seeks—truth, discovery, the next breakthrough—carries its own shadow: the potential misuse, the unintended fallout, the moral complexity that accumulates with every new insight.
The work confronts the complexity of the scientific mind: how curiosity can be both pure and perilous, how the pursuit of understanding can illuminate and darken in equal measure, how the innocent question can lead to profound responsibility. Yet in the deepest blackening, a faint gleam reflects off the scientist pope’s eye—the quiet possibility that even in the face of uncertainty, honest inquiry can still lead toward light that melds science and faith.
Written on the canvas, “ Should we die , or kill for our beliefs? “
A meditation on intellect, responsibility, the cost of knowing, and the enduring optimism that persists when we refuse to turn away from what we uncover—dark yet eternally hopeful in its refusal to let the question be silenced.
Dark yet hopeful
Studio view, or related works: blairaiken@raincage.com
Inspiration & Personal Connection
This painting draws inspiration from Diego Velázquez’s iconic *Portrait of Pope Innocent X* (c. 1650), a work I first encountered a version of at the Gardner Museum in Boston and later saw the original in Italy ( Galleria Doria Pamphilj ). Additionally I was also deeply affected by Francis Bacon’s haunting reinterpretations of the same image, which drove me to try this myself in my work. The psychological mask worn by a person expected to have all the answers—such as a religious leader, expert, scientist, or figurehead—despite not fully understanding.
The connection became painfully personal when a close friend suffered a serious surfing accident and sat upright in a hospital bed in Hawaii, immobilized in a neck brace. In that moment, all I could see was Velázquez’s portrait — the intense, unflinching gaze, the trapped intelligence, the weight of vulnerability beneath the ceremonial ( hospital) robes, of not wanting others to worry.
In my version, I explore that same raw confrontation: the masked stare, the tension between power and fragility, and the quiet human struggle beneath any outward authority or mask. The blackening layers trace the slow accumulation of consequence, isolation, and endurance.
Yet even in this moment of stillness and restraint, a faint light persists — a reminder that honesty, however uncomfortable, can still open the way toward understanding and hope.
Dark yet hopeful.
Studio view, or related works: blairaiken@raincage.com
Dark yet hopeful.
Diego Velázquez’s iconic *Portrait of Pope Innocent X* (c. 1650),