Only when we have raked the image over in this way can we allow ourselves to focus on the most obvious feature, one of undeniable interest: the presence of the slave in his own work. For Juan de Pareja (in a move from the master’s repertoire familiar in figures as distant as Giotto and as recent as Hitchcock) inserts a self-portrait in his work. We know this is an image of Pareja because of its obvious resemblance to the portrait of him that Velázquez originally produced in 1650, the one that now resides at The Met. On one level, in Saint Matthew, Pareja records for posterity his own impression of his likeness in the otherwise imagined biblical scene, a practice Renaissance painters indulged in typically on behalf of wealthy patrons who were duly inserted into the works they had commissioned the way stadiums and sporting events are “brought to you by” such and such corporate conglomerate.