Conceived on a grand scale, Les Vestales epitomizes the enigmatic and immersive world that Delvaux created in his paintings. The canvas is dominated by the central tableau of four women set against a mysterious backdrop that brings together many of the artist’s key motifs, from the calm sea that stretches across the horizon to the curious Greco-Roman temple that occupies the center of the composition and the mirror, or would-be mirror, in the foreground. The result is a powerfully atmospheric composition typical of Delvaux’s unique Surrealist vision.

The subject and much of the imagery of this work are drawn from the Classical world. As a young student Delvaux was fascinated by the history and architecture of the Ancient world and the detail with which he conjures the temple of the present work reveals the importance of this influence in his work. Unsurprisingly then, of all the Surrealist artists with whom Delvaux is associated, it was de Chirico with whom he felt the greatest affinity, describing seeing his works: “It was an extraordinary discovery, a departure point” (quoted in B. Emerson, Delvaux, Antwerp, 1985, p. 241). The neoclassical backdrop of Les Vestales ­distinctly recalls the unsettling atmosphere of de Chirico’s piazzas, which are often similarly populated with mysterious figures (see fig. 1).

The Vestal Virgins—vestales—of Ancient Rome were the priestesses of the goddess Vesta, deity of hearth and home. They had a central role in the life of the great city and their key duty—keeping the sacred fire of Vesta burning—was considered fundamental to its security. As young women they committed thirty years of their life to the role, taking a vow of chastity, but in turn were rewarded by a status and wealth that was unavailable to other women of their age. As a symbol of purity and dedication they caught the imagination of artists throughout the ages; it became particularly fashionable in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries for noble women to be portrayed in the guise of a vestal virgin, either dressed in Roman costume or in contemporary clothing but with the emblematic fire burning by their side. Delvaux’s virgins follow this latter approach; one bends to tend their gas-lamp “fire” while the other three converge around a mirror. Sculptural and inscrutable, Delvaux’s women have something of the noli me tangere of their Roman sisters and notably the only male figure in the scene is seen in the distance, walking away from them.

As Barbara Emerson observes of Delvaux’s later work: “During these years one sees an evolution in the relationship between the figures in Delvaux’s work. All attempts at establishing a bond between men and women is abandoned.… Men come to be almost excluded from Delvaux’s work. The pairs of women are increasingly non-erotic, as their covered bodies signal” (ibid., p. 187). However, one could also argue that these clothed bodies actually evoke an underlying eroticism; as in eighteenth century depictions of the subject, the pronounced inaccessibility and purity of the women makes them an object of desire.

This idea is lent weight by the other overarching theme of this work, which concerns the act of looking. To the left of the composition is a curved rectangular frame—one that appears frequently in Delvaux’s work. In some paintings it acts as a straightforward mirror (see fig. 2), here it is both frame and mirror. It can be read as transparent with the woman in grey standing behind it, but it can also be interpreted as a mirror reflecting her as she stands in position of the viewer; the hand of the woman on the left both supports the frame and is reflected in it. The distortion is subtle, but it is enough to introduce the air of uncertainty that was so central to Delvaux’s practice. Just as Magritte used mirrors in his work to conjure illusion and question reality (see fig. 3), Delvaux uses the suggestion of a mirror in the present work to remind his viewer that everything may not be as it seems. In this respect he was working in an established art historical tradition; artists from Van Eyck to Velázquz have used mirrors as a means of extending the pictorial space and playing with reality (see fig. 4).

Gisèle Ollinger-Zinque wrote about the role of mirrors in Delvaux’s art: “the dream world and the natural world fuse to create the extraordinary, like the mirror that appears so often in his pictures…. At times one doubts whether it is a mirror at all and not, rather, an opening, a doorway to the world of the unseen? The person who is mirrored sees himself differently and that uncertain view adds to his expressive force since if the phenomenon were logical the ‘sense of its mystery would be destroyed’. The mirror has become a form of second sight, a reflection of the hidden, of the wonderful, of the unspoken” (G. Ollinger-Zinque, Paul Delvaux (exhibition catalogue), Musées Royaux des Beaux-Arts de Belgique, Brussels, 1997, p. 25). In the present work, Delvaux invites us into this world of the unseen. The women of his painting are as mysterious as their ancient namesakes and their surroundings, captured in perfect detail, deliberately draw attention to their own artifice. As in much of Delvaux’s best work, apparent simplicity belies a complex exploration of themes and in true Surrealist fashion leaves the viewer questioning what they have seen.