Leon Aarts – Self-Portrait Wearing Anorak (c. 2004, oils on canvas)

A spectral figure stares out from a mustard fog, half-erased by its own garment. The anorak is not clothing but a shroud, wet, heavy, and swallowing. Painted two years after the volcanic Self-Portrait of 2002, this is Aarts in retreat: the earlier fury has curdled into a slow, ochre suffocation. The gaze is still direct, but now it is underwater, pleading for air.

Light is not modeled; it is infected. The oils are applied in thin, translucent skins that let underlayers rot through, creating a jaundiced glow.

A small, sick masterpiece. If the 2002 Self-Portrait was a scream, this is the long exhale afterward—resigned, rancid, and weirdly sacred. It is the visual equivalent of a Leonard Cohen song played at half-speed in a damp basement. Hang it opposite a window; the natural light will make the figure recede further into its cocoon.

Score (out of 10): 8.9 A portrait of winter inside the skull, quiet, corrosive, and impossible to unsee.