The Order of Things (1966) is about the "cognitive status of the modern human sciences" in the production of knowledge — the ways of seeing that researchers apply to a subject under examination. Foucault's introduction to the epistemic origins of the human sciences is a forensic analysis of the painting Las Meninas (The Ladies-in-waiting, 1656), by Diego Velázquez, as an objet d'art.[6] For the detailed descriptions, Foucault uses language that is "neither prescribed by, nor filtered through the various texts of art-historical investigation."[7] Ignoring the 17th-century social context of the painting — the subject (a royal family); the artist's biography, technical acumen, artistic sources and stylistic influences; and the relationship with his patrons (King Philip IV of Spain and Queen Mariana of Austria) — Foucault analyzes the conscious, artistic artifice of Las Meninas as a work of art, to show the network of complex, visual relationships that exist among the painter, the subjects, and the spectator who is viewing the painting:
We are looking at a picture in which the painter is, in turn, looking out at us. A mere confrontation, eyes catching one another's glance, direct looks superimposing themselves upon one another as they cross. And yet, this slender line of reciprocal visibility embraces a whole complex network of uncertainties, exchanges, and feints. The painter is turning his eyes towards us only in so far as we happen to occupy the same position as his subject.[7][8]
As a representational painting Las Meninas is a new episteme (way of thinking) that is at the midpoint between two "great discontinuities" in European intellectualism, the Classical and the modern: "Perhaps there exists, in this painting by Velázquez, the representation, as it were, of Classical representation, and the definition of the space it opens up to us . . . representation freed, finally, from the relation that was impeding it, can offer itself as representation, in its pure form."[7][9]
Now he [Velázquez the painter] can be seen, caught in a moment of stillness, at the neutral centre of his oscillation. His dark torso and bright face are half-way between the visible and the invisible: emerging from the canvas, beyond our view, he moves into our gaze; but when, in a moment, he makes a step to the right, removing himself from our gaze, he will be standing exactly in front of the canvas he is painting; he will enter that region where his painting, neglected for an instant, will, for him, become visible once more, free of shadow and free of reticence. As though the painter could not, at the same time, be seen on the picture where he is represented, and also see that upon which he is representing something.[10]
The Order of Things concludes with Foucault's explanation of why he did the forensic analysis:
Let us, if we may, look for [representation] the previously existing law of that interplay in the painting of Las Meninas. . . . In Classical thought, the personage for whom the representation exists, and who represents himself within it, recognizing himself, therein, as an image or reflection, he who ties together all the interlacing threads of the "representation in the form of a picture or table" — he is never to be found in that table himself. Before the end of the eighteenth century, Man did not exist — any more than the potency of life, the fecundity of labour, or the historical density of language. He is a quite recent creature, which the demiurge of knowledge fabricated with its own hands, less than two hundred years ago: but he has grown old so quickly that it has been only too easy to imagine that he had been waiting for thousands of years in the darkness for that moment of illumination in which he would finally be known.[11]
