ʿAlī-Naqī was the son of Shaykh ʿAbbāsī, who had initially taught him his painting style, and known from his inscriptions on few paintings during the late-Safavid era. Naqi contributed, most likely illustrations, to the Shahnameh, an epic poem, within the Metropolitan Museum circa the late 1600s, possibly during or rather the time of this painting.
Known as "Woman holding a cup and a decanter" or "Woman holding a jug and bowl", this miniature painting reflects the style of 17th century Safavid painting, which had been influenced by European styles due to the politics of the time, where portraits were full-bodied and framed either fully by nature or half by empty space. This style also featured rounded faces, small hands and small mouths. Naqī's own style is considered to be influenced by both Indian and European styles, the former visible through the eyes, the side-profile of the feet and the wide-shouldered figure of the woman. The woman's wardrobe is also reflective of the Safavid period, specifically during the late 17th century, when women wore something akin to an overcoat with typically tight sleeves, often open until the mid-chest where it then cinches at the waist with fastenings. The silhouette is then expanded with a flared skirt and, as the painting shows, maintains the fashion of previous years with trousers worn underneath. The pattern of the overcoat is another demonstration of the fashion, with a distinct motif in its pattern and contrasting colours, the latter of which is also a notable quality of Naqī's own painting style. The vibrant greens contrast the yellow tones of the woman's wardrobe, both of which help the cool red in flourishing as an accent colour for the entire piece and in turn, give the woman a warmer sense of life through her lips and cheeks.
When I look at her delicately poised I sense a tension between restraint and indulgence, the cup and decanter not just objects, but choices waiting to be made. It reminds me of those private pauses in life where nothing dramatic happens yet everything shifts. In her stillness I see my own hesitations my own silent negotiations with self-control and longing.
