Inside the Mind of Bosch: The Painter of Heaven and Hell Ep 4

Death and the Miser This painting, held in the National Gallery of Art in Washington, D.C., was originally the inside of the right panel of a divided triptych. The other existing portions of the triptych are the Ship of Fools, an allegory of gluttony and lust, while the Wayfarer was painted on the external right panel. Death and the Miser functions as a memento mori, reminding the viewer of the inevitability of death. The painting shows the influence of popular 15th-century handbooks on the art of dying, intended to help Christians choose Christ over sinful pleasures. As Death approaches, illustrated as a skeleton in flowing robes, the Miser, unable to resist worldly temptations, reaches for the bag of gold offered by a demon, while an angel points to a crucifix from which a slender beam of light descends. In the foreground, Bosch depicts the Miser as he was previously, dressed in green clothing signifying full health, placing gold in his money chest, which is infested with demons, while he clutches his rosary. Symbols of worldly power, such as a helmet, sword, and shield in the bottom section, allude to earthly follies, while also informing us of the station held by this man during his life. Bosch encourages us to interact with the image, as whether or not the Miser, in his last moments, will embrace the salvation offered by Christ or cling to his worldly riches, remains uncertain. The artist's familiarity with the visual tradition of the Ars Moriendi is demonstrated in the top left roundel, illustrating the death of a sinner in the seven deadly sins and the four last things. Ascent of the Blessed Produced between 1505 and 1515, the captivating image of Ascent of the Blessed was originally part of a polyptych of four panels, entitled Visions of the Hereafter. The other panels provided the titles Terrestrial Paradise, Fall of the Damned into Hell and Hell. The intriguing large form at the top of the panel is depicted as a three-dimensional tunnel, allowing us to peek into heaven from below. Angels appearing in white robes guide naked souls up to the light. In the lower part of the panel, there are two angels for each soul, perhaps suggesting that some humans require more help than others. Closer to heaven, there is only one angel for each soul, conveying that the souls are being pulled from earth with greater ease towards the tunnel. As they become lighter in weight, the figures share similar facial features. As the physical aspect of the humans and angels are more idealized and not individualized, none of the souls are differentiated as male or female. There are no genders in heaven. All the figures in the painting lose upwards towards the tunnel, fixed on their destination. This funnel-shaped radiance with distinct segments is most likely inspired by contemporary zodiacal diagrams. The dark black tones of the majority of the painting contrast strikingly with the white brightness at the end of the tunnel, drawing us up with the souls in their ascent. The sky becomes darker as it approaches the white light of the tunnel, emphasizing the dramatic impact of the contrast. The hazy form of a figure within heaven itself delineated as total white, seems to gesture ambiguously, adding to the ethereal nature of the image. Bosch's paintings reflect the religious themes that dominated art and society in the Netherlands during the 16th century. Citizens were expected to behave and act as good Catholics, with their reward eventually being access to heaven. The consequences of sin, portrayed in images of purgatory and hell, were often represented to frighten people into obedience, encouraging them to lead diligent and respectable lives. A treatise current at that time, titled Wander Voorziening Kite Goddess, claimed that out of 30,000 souls, only two were likely to reach heaven. Such ideology stirred everyday men and women, playing upon their inner fears of an afterlife of torment and torture. Bosch's image intends to allay these fears, offering a beautiful window into the rewards of a blessed life. The Marriage Feast at Cana The Marriage Feast at Cana was only recently attributed to Bosch, residing today at the Museum Boijmans van Beuningen in Rotterdam. The picture survives in poor condition, with the upper corners having been cut off. As many heads have been repainted and a pair of dogs at the lower left may have been added as late as the 18th century. Bosch establishes the biblical marriage banquet in an ornately furnished interior, which is most likely a tavern. The Miracle of the Wine Jars takes place in the lower right section of the panel. The guests are seated around an L-shaped table dominated at one end by the figure of Christ, behind whom hangs the brocaded cloth of honor, usually reserved for the bride. Christ is flanked by two male donors in contemporary dress, while next to the Virgin at the center of the table appear the austerely dressed bridal couple. The bridegroom is John the Evangelist, for his face closely resembles features used by Bosch in other depictions of the saint. Although the bridegroom remains nameless in the New Testament account, he was frequently identified as Christ's most beloved disciple. Christ and his friends are pensively absorbed in some inner vision, unaware of the evil enchantment that seems to have fallen upon the banquet hall. The other wedding guests drink or chatter, observed by a bagpiper who leers drunkenly from a platform in the upper left. On the columns flanking the rear portal two sculptured demons have mysteriously come to life. One of them aims an arrow at the other who escapes by disappearing through a hole in the wall. From the left two servants carry in a boar's head and a swan spitting fire from their mouths, a symbol for unchastity. This unholy revelry seems to be directed by the innkeeper or steward, who stands with his baton in the rear chamber. The precise meaning of the many bizarre details remains unclear, as does the inclusion of the richly-gowned child. His back turned to the viewer, who seems to toast the bridal couple with a chalice. Nevertheless, Bosch has undoubtedly intended for the tavern to represent a place of evil, contrasting the chaste marriage feast at Cana with the debauchery of the world. On one hand, we are presented with a moral allegory of man's pursuit of the flesh at the expense of his spiritual welfare, while on the other we are asked to appreciate the monastic ideal of a life secure from the world in contemplation of God. These two themes would dominate much of the artist's later work. The Wayfarer, also housed in Rotterdam's museum, Beuysmans van Beuningen, is one of the fragments of a partially lost triptych or diptych, which also included the allegory of gluttony and lust, the ship of fools, and death, and the miser. The figure of the Wayfarer, also appearing in the Path of Life panel on the exterior of the Haywain triptych, represents the choice between the path of virtue at the gate on the right or debauchery in the house on the left. The rolling sand dunes to the right and the subdued tonalities of grey and yellow effectively convey the rain-drenched Dutch countryside. The large foreground figure closely recalls the Haywain pilgrim, except that he appears more haggard and poorly dressed. This time the dangers of the world are chiefly spiritual, embodied by the tavern on the left, its ruinous condition echoing the ragged clothes of the Wayfarer. The tavern symbolizes the world and the devil in general, its nefarious nature emphasized by the man urinating on the right and by the couple embracing in the doorway. If the second woman, who peers eagerly out the window, is a prostitute, then the traveller may well be the next customer she is waiting for. However, he appears to have passed the tavern in his journey and his path leads towards a gate with the tranquil Dutch countryside beyond. In a moment of indecision, he halts by the roadside, tempted by the promise of pleasure. Whether he will turn away from the tavern to pass through the gate is left for us, the viewer, to decide, encouraging us to engage with the painting. It remains one of the artist's most poignant and enigmatic works to have survived from his later career. Historians have speculated that the figure of the tree-man in the hell panel of the Garden of Earthly Delights was in fact created in the image of the artist, but the 1508 self-portrait drawing is the only confirmed self-portrait of the artist. It was thought to have been drawn eight years before his death, and it is feasible that Bosch deliberately exaggerated his age. In any case, the drawing would seem to foretell Bosch's need to give a face to his legacy, possibly in the knowledge that he was in the latter stages of his life. It was recorded by the Brotherhood of Our Lady that Bosch died in 1516 and that a funerary service was held on the 9th of August in the Church of Saint John in S. Hertogenbosch. Although his place in the history of art is beyond question, Bosch's oeuvre is represented by only around 25 paintings and eight drawings. One reason for this meager return stems from a period in the 16th century in which members of the Protestant Reformation destroyed many works deemed immoral. Six of his works were bought or confiscated by Philip II of Spain in the end of the 16th century, now owned by the Museo del Prado in Madrid, and others emerged across Europe which has left a rather piecemeal and potted history of one of the most unique artists in the pantheon. During his lifetime, Bosch's work was collected in several countries throughout Europe, and he was widely revered and imitated by students and followers, not least Peter Bruegel the Elder, the second Hieronymus, as he was nicknamed, who was significantly influenced by Bosch's approach to painting landscapes. Although interest in his work dropped off, except in Spain, he emerged as a force again in the modern era where he exerted influence on the Surrealist movement and artists including Max Ernst, René Magritte, and especially Salvador Dalí, who claimed in fact that Bosch was the first modern artist. The unusual rock formation resembling Dalí's face in his famous painting The Great Masturbator, 1929, was inspired by a similar formation in the left panel of the Garden of Earthly Delights. Leonora Carrington too, who encountered Bosch's works in Museo del Prado in 1939, drew inspiration from Bosch's most famous composition. In The Giantess, 1947, for example, Carrington places hunters in an uncanny landscape featuring winged fish and seafarers floating in an ocean-like sky that forms the landscape on which her cloaked female giant stands. The art critic Alastair Souk states, It is easy to understand why Bosch continues to fascinate us today. The apocalyptic tone of his work resonates during our era of global conflict and international terrorism, and direct references can be found in examples from film, television, video games, books and even fashion collections. The art critic Tim Smith-Lange adds that few, if any, of Hieronymus Bosch's contemporaries can claim a similar level of continuing fame. He is a major draw at museums, but his reach extends far beyond. In addition to the standard books, T-shirts and postcards, he has been treated to accessories ranging from tote bags to mousepads and phone cases. There are even Dr. Martin's boots with his work printed on them. Little information has survived regarding the artist's final years. An entry in the accounts of the Brotherhood of Our Lady records Bosch's death in 1516. A funeral mass served in his memory was held in the Church of St. John on 9 August 1516. In recent years, scholars have changed their views of Bosch's art, no longer regarding it merely as a fantastic style intended only to titillate and amuse, much like the grotesque of the Italian Renaissance. Critics have now accepted that his highly original paintings reflect the orthodox religious belief systems of his age. His depictions of sinful humanity and his conceptions of heaven and hell are seen as consistent with those of late medieval didactic literature and sermons. A more profound significance has been assigned to his works and attempts to interpret them in terms of late medieval morality. One of his most alluring and innovative achievements is his use of ambiguity to interact with the viewer, emphasizing ironic tendencies and satirical comments, keen indications of Bosch's sharp wit. His employment of irony offers the option of detachment, both from the real world and from his illustrated fantasy world, appealing to both conservative and progressive viewers. you