In Intus Splendet — Latin for “She shines within” — André Romijn presents a vision of feminine presence that is at once timeless, sacred, and deeply human. Executed on cracked plaster and adorned with radiant gold leaf, this work carries with it the physical and symbolic textures of age, memory, and reverence. It is not merely a portrait, but a meditation on inner light, fragility, and the enduring strength of silence.
The central figure, a woman with closed eyes and a composed, inward-facing expression, is crowned by a gilded halo that evokes the visual language of early Christian icons. Yet she is no saint in the traditional sense. Her posture, bare shoulders, and slightly tousled hair suggest vulnerability rather than sanctity, humanity over divinity. One hand is raised to her head, the other curled toward her chest — a gesture of pause, perhaps tension, or even unspoken grace.
Romijn’s technique is as emotionally resonant as it is visually striking. The cracked plaster beneath the paint becomes part of the narrative — a physical reminder of impermanence, weathering, and the beauty that resides in imperfection. The gold leaf, carefully applied yet visibly distressed, does not elevate the figure beyond reach; rather, it draws attention to the quiet power already within her. The tension between decay and brilliance lies at the heart of the work.
Colour plays a key role: the rich crimson foreground and deep navy background frame the figure in a dramatic but intimate space, while the gold provides a celestial contrast — not to glorify, but to illuminate. Light here is not external; it emanates from within. The title, Intus Splendet, encapsulates this truth perfectly. The painting does not ask to be deciphered; it asks to be felt.
Romijn invites us to witness a moment of interiority, stillness, and radiance — to see not just a body, but a presence. In this, Intus Splendet becomes a modern icon for the sacredness of selfhood, and the quiet dignity that shines from within even the most fractured surfaces.
