No other painting by Anthony van Dyck has sparked as much debate about its origins as his Salvator Mundi. For centuries, scholars puzzled over whether this work was truly by Van Dyck, a copy after his master Peter Paul Rubens, or perhaps even a later imitation. The confusion is heightened by the fact that there are several known versions of Salvator Mundi in European collections, each with subtle differences in Christ’s gesture and expression.

This version, dated 1675, appears long after Van Dyck’s death in 1641, raising questions about its authorship and the workshop practices of the late Baroque period. In this painting, Christ is presented as the “Saviour of the World,” his right hand raised in blessing while his left cradles a crystal orb—a symbol of his dominion over the earth. Van Dyck chooses a moment of serene authority: Christ’s gaze meets the viewer’s, inviting both awe and intimacy. The soft modeling of the face, the delicate rendering of the curls, and the gentle fall of light across the forehead all echo Van Dyck’s portrait style, yet the composition harks back to earlier prototypes by Leonardo da Vinci and Rubens.

Unlike Leonardo’s enigmatic Christ, Van Dyck’s figure radiates clarity and directness, with the orb rendered almost transparent, a sign of spiritual rather than material power. The journey of this painting is as mysterious as its authorship. While some records suggest it was commissioned for a private chapel, its provenance remains patchy, with gaps in its documented history until the 19th century. The uncertain date of 1675, more than three decades after Van Dyck’s death, suggests it may be a studio work or an homage by a follower.

Today, the painting is recognized as a testament to Van Dyck’s enduring influence on religious portraiture in the Baroque era, even if its precise origins are still debated among experts. It stands as a reminder of how the image of Christ as Salvator Mundi continued to evolve in the hands of successive generations.