Seeking Bosch

I landed in Madrid on a cool Sunday morning in February and made my way to a lovely little B&B located just steps away from Plaza Mayor and the Mercado de San Miguel. If you know Madrid and its history, you know not much of the ancient city survived from wars and modernization, so finding an affordable apartment in this section of town is rare. I settled into the compact and cozy space, sipping a strong coffee on the Juliet balcony while watching the locals stroll home from church services. A shower and fresh clothes purged me of the redeye flight and renewed my energy for my first adventure. I grabbed my camera and city map marked with the route to my main destination - The Prado Museum.

I joined the growing line of locals and visitors patiently waiting for the doors to open for the Prado’s free evening hours. A fellow solo traveler from Brazil queued behind me and we struck up a conversation about our plans while in Madrid. Work trips bring him here from time to time and he spends any free time strolling the city in search of good food and great wine. “This is my first trip to Spain and I’ve come to Madrid specifically for what is inside there,” I said, gesturing at the Prado. I was seeking Jheronimus Bosch and his Garden of Earthly Delights. He nodded with understanding, he was here for the Caravaggio. As the doors were flung open and the crowd began its procession, our excitement intensified the closer we got to the entrance. Crossing the threshold, my new friend and I arranged to meet afterwards for tapas before hurrying off in different directions to find our chosen masterpieces.

I eagerly wove through the maze of galleries trying to follow the numbered plaques mounted in each doorway as I searched for room 56A. My enthusiasm impaired any sense of direction as I frantically breezed past piece after piece of stunning art until a stoic gallery attendant came to my aid. Finally, the 56A plaque appeared, its arrow pointing to the next room.

I entered the gallery dedicated to the artist that has mesmerized me for well over a decade. There before me stood the larger-than-life triptych, its wings outstretched - inviting viewers into a world imagined like no other. Seeing this soul-shaking painting in person left me breathless and the tears came, unprompted. In that moment I had the rare awareness that a dream I had carried for years was, at last, actually happening. I stood there, fully in my joy, delighting in the tears that pooled into the dimples of my wide smile.

I wiped my eyes, restoring my vision, and immersed myself in the painting. From left to right: light to dark, heaven to hell, good to evil, angels to monsters. Bosch’s iconic imagination creates an allegorical description of life. The heavens bless us with life, gifting benevolence, warmth, vitality, absolution, a beginning. The present is centered, a pastel paradise full of abundance, curiosity, frivolity, community, wealth, love, romance, life. But the shadows creep in from the right-hand panel, pulling us into hell, ablaze and filled with creatures ready to swallow us whole. Strange, maniacal, sinister, insane, a torment to the end. Heaven, Earth, and Hell. Godly, human, and demonic. His paintings often give space to all three themes, sometimes bold and clear, other times the light or dark acting merely as voyeurs.

I stayed in Gallery 56A, delighting in the other five Bosch paintings that shared the gallery until the announcement was made that the museum was closing soon. I retraced my steps back towards the entrance, this time slowing down to admire the art I’d earlier ignored. My new friend was waiting for me at the entrance and as we walked along the quiet Sunday evening streets, we delighted each other by recounting our emotional experiences with our chosen masterpieces. I would return a few days later to spend more time with Bosch, and to finally see the Caravaggio.

A few years later I made the pilgrimage to the Jheronimus Bosch Art Center, a converted church dedicated to the artist in the center of his hometown of ’s-Hertogenbosch, Netherlands. Life sized 3D sculptures of creatures, pulled right out of his paintings, greeted me at the entry. Inside, they flew overhead from the vaulted ceilings and playfully peeked out from the pipe organ’s balcony above. I took the tiny elevator to the top of the bell tower and gazed out over the town’s skyline, including St. John’s Cathedral, where Hieronymus molded his inspiration. I descended the stairs through the tower’s compact galleries, marveling at close range the 1:1 replicas of each of his paintings that lined the walls. Passing through the sanctuary I descended even further into the crypt that contains an endearing re-imagination of Bosch in his humble studio 500 years ago.

Back in the sanctuary I found myself alone to study the Garden of Earthly Delights replica. This time I could touch it, close its wings and open them as the original’s stewards did centuries ago. I took a step back and fixed my eyes in the center of the center panel, then stepped in close to examine the chaste maidens in the pool. I stepped back again and let my eyes fall to the right, then stepped forward again, this time to study the shadows hidden in the eerie darkness. I repeated this dance over and over, getting lost in Bosch’s Garden until the giant Astronomical Clock chimed itself to life, pulling me from my trance, and signaling the end of the day.

I wandered down the street and entered Saint John’s, marveling at its loveliness. I sit in a center pew and wonder how Bosch may have thought and felt as he witnessed the cathedral’s completion. Could he, with all of his imagination, have dreamt that this building would still be standing 500 years later and boasting his legacy? Did he recognize his originality and hope it would influence generations to come? Like the story of his life, his thoughts will remain a mystery. Yet, here I sit, an ordinary person brought to tears by this extraordinary artist.

I begin to think about the billions of people who have ever lived and how only the smallest fraction will make a mark on humanity so significant that their names carry through eternity. Their common thread? A daringness to share their unique ideas and challenge their contemporaries’ worldview, often shunned by society until history can prove their genius. Jheronimus Bosch is one of these great influencers, inspiring generations that followed to find the courage to push their imaginations beyond boundaries. Myself included.

My visit to the Prado cemented my admiration for Bosch and I have been seeking out his work ever since. I have seen more than half of his paintings, with a heartbreaking honorable mention to The Temptation of St. Anthony at the Museu Nacional de Arte Antiga in Lisbon where it was out on loan while I was in town. But now I have an excuse to return to beautiful Portugal while I also plan trips to Boston, Bruges, Brussels, El Escorial, Frankfurt, Ghent, Kansas City, New Haven, Philadelphia, Rotterdam, Valencia, Venice, and Vienna. Whatever it is that inspires you, follow where it leads - especially if it calls you to travel to find it!