Brugge (Bruges, pop 118,509 in 2022) is a small city that boasts a systematized the tourism experience. The city sells an attractively priced, single ticket to access all the big sites – the Musea Brugge Card. Cards in-hand, we take the train past Gent, to this 'almost coastal' town to try them out. We not only need to have cards, but reserve timed entries to the various sites.
Our first stop is the Belfort, but the Onze-Lieve-Vrouwekerk ('OLV-kerk', Church of Our Lady, 13th century; location of the 'Brugse Madonna') is also on the way. From the train station, we head north.
Unlike our trip to Gent, we encounter a brick village rather than a city of mid-rise buildings. What Brugge lacks in scale, it makes up with monumental towers; we can see the massive OLV-kerk and Kathedraal spires above the low buildings – and have not yet seen the Belfort.
Turning left, we arrive in the Guido Gezelleplein, a very small green square to the west of the OLV-kerk, and the crowds swell. Up close, we realize the tower is not made of stones, but bricks – which may explain the thick, stocky nature of the design.
Through the square, we find the Gruuthusemuseum (15th century) and the Bakkersrei (canal); then, under a covered archway, we come upon De Dijver (canal-side park & flea market). At the end of the park is the Nepomucenusbrug (bridge) which honors St Joannes Nepomucenus with a statue that tends the bridge – the perfect spot to keep watch over the boatloads (literally) of tourists.
Just down the street is the De Markt, the city's main square, and the wide, white facade of the Provinciaal Hof (19th century, Gothic Revival).
We have 11:20AM tickets and have arrived just a few minutes early; we must check our bags at the gift shop.
The Belfort van Brugge (Belfry, 13th century) is made of bricks, too. It is disproportionately tall relative to the architecture of the square and the Stadshallen (13th & 14th centuries) at its base. The steeple at the top is missing (lost in an 18th century fire), so the structure ends abruptly at the telescoping, octagonal bell chamber. Its construction is full of odd asymmetries.
Our mission is to climb nearly three hundred feet and reach the top before the clock strikes noon. We reach the first 'level', known as the Thesaurie, and then on up to the Stenen vloer (stone floor), where there is a display of bells and clock parts. From here we can confirm the inside is, amazingly, also brick, with timber staging and heavy iron ties. The diagram indicates this is where the tower ascends above the market hall's roof.
Our effort increases as we enter the dark and compact spiral stair. About halfway we find the Treatbel (great bell) enclosed by louvered arches. The beautiful arched corbels in the corners allow the transition from square to octagon.
On the beam, and on the tablet above the corbel are the same dedication to the mayor – interesting that the capitalized letters on both (600+1002+106 +101=1809) add up to the year the bell was installed.
De Croeser MaIre fIt ConstrUIre Ce beffroI(DC … MII … CVI … CI)
At the next level, after about twenty minutes, we enter the Trommelkamer (drum room). As we inspect the clockworks, things begin moving, and we wonder if we accidentally bumped something. The trommel beings playing the quarter hour (YouTube below).
Finally, we reach the beiaard (carillon). The views through the narrow openings are fantastic, though we are standing on the most impressive tower so cannot see it from here. The octagonal faces allow wide views, but access to one corner is blocked.
The medium and high octave bells rise above us, but the bass bell sits right at our level. There are a series of pipes, cables, and strikers, as well as netting to prevent the pigeons from clogging the works – a busy, confusing mess, but it makes a gorgeous sound.
At noon, the beiaard plays and strikes the hour (two YouTubes below). The tones are not so loud that we need to put our fingers in our ears – they are, in fact, exciting to hear and extremely pleasurable.
As the ringing dissipates to silence and only slightly disoriented, we descend. It's now past noon and we are headed downward, so everything feels effortless, and we can enjoy some of the details of the tower. We linger on the view of the square, as the carriages queue by the statue honoring the Jan Breydel and Pieter de Coninck.
We return to the gift shop and collect our bags.
Back in De Markt, we relax, buy a waffle, and take more pictures. With the Belfort behind us, we see cafes and restaurants facing us from the north and on our left. To our right is the Provinciaal Hof; on either side are Het postgebouw (red brick building to the south, 19th century) and the Historium (stone arcaded building to the north, 20th century).
On the gable of the Provinciaal Hof is the gleaming gold statue of Sint-Michaël slaying the dragon. In the niche in the center of the Belfort facade is a large Madonna en Kind, with a chain of rams' heads at the base. The three-lion, royal crest of Belgium can be seen in both the triangular gable of the Provinciaal Hof and the roundel of the Belfort.
Here's a photographic account – banners, chain mail, knights on horseback, a trebuchet (?), lots of nuns, a boat, and idols of Our Lady:
Our next timed entry is for the OLV-kerk, but when we return to the church, the doors are locked. We lap the exterior, but there is no way in. Perhaps the parade has affected the opening time.
When we've completed the circuit, the door from the Guido Gezelleplein opens, but we are a little late. Entry to the church is free, but the Museum with the Brugse Madonna is not. It's in the ambulatory.
The interior arches and walls are whitewashed, but the triforium and vault ribs are in grey stone, with brick infill. The painted surfaces evenly disperse the light. At the crossing, the triforium steps up, but does not turn the corner, steps down, and continues into the choir and apse. The chancel is in the crossing, with a gated altar screen below the pipes of the organ.
Again, we see the Baroque sculptural pieces compliment the Brabantse gotiek, with hints of ancient frescos (14th century). We imagine the church without the sculptures and the white replaced with color. We snap only a few photos as we hurry through the ticketing gate.
We enter the ambulatory and the museum. The choir is confined by sets of elaborate confessionals and paintings hung from high panels. At the far end, we see embellished columns and a richly decorated chapel, and no longer must imagine its true Gothic appearance.
The left-hand chapel (Evangelist side) holds a triptych of the Nativity (De aanbidding door de herders, Pieter Pourbus, 1574) below the stained glass and the patterned the archway. The central chapel at the back appears to be dedicated to the Holy Sacrament. The right-hand chapel (Epistle side) has a triptych of the Tranfiguration (Gedaanteverandering van Christus, Gerard David, 1520).
The three painted chapels complete a triptych of triptychs that show Christ's birth and life, His ministry and sacrifice, and His transfiguration and resurrection. And here we can see works of the Flemish masters in situ.
The side chapel, the Lanchalskapel, contains several Gothic-era tombs (14th century); remarkably, they are painted on the inside. Typically each container includes a regularized set of sepia-toned images: a Crucifixion at one end, a Madonna and Child at the other, and heraldry and angels along the sides.
We wish we could climb inside for a better look, then find a QR code that links to a web page offering that view: Grafkelder Onze-Lieve-Vrouwekerkhof-Zuid in 3D.
The figure of a saint holding a lily and Crucifix is above the chapel door; perhaps it is St Nicolaus of Tolentino who we met yesterday.
Now we enter the choir. The matching mausoleums of the Karel de Stoute (16th century) and his daughter Maria van Bourgondië (15th century), the last two rulers of the hertogdom Bourgondië. A pair of stunning brass funerary sculptures lie on the lids, the coats of arms of their lands line the copings, and their family trees shown as crests are on the sides.
The dramatic triptych in the altar is the Calvariedrieluik Margaretha van Oostenrijk (Bernard van Orley and Marcus Gheeraerts, 1534-61), commissioned by Margaretha van Oostenrijk to accompany her mother's (Maria's) tomb.
The openings in the floor expose Maria original burial chamber; she was later placed in her mausoleum in the Lanchalskapel before its relocation to the choir in 1979.
In the stained glass are four figures: S Joannes (with grail), S Maria (with child Jesus), S Bonifacius (with crozier), and S Aloysius (with crucifix & lily). So, logically, the saint by the Lanchalskapel door is St Aloysius, not St Nicolaus – another mystery solved.
Looking past the choir stalls, there is a cartouche at the top of the organ with the inscription: "Sic Deus Dilexit Mundum" (for God so loved the world).
Leaving the ambulatory, we emerge into the south aisle, which is separate from the 'un-ticketed' nave. In the lateral chapel is the Madonna met kind (Brugse Madonna, Michelangelo, 1501-04). Access to the chapel is also blocked, and the Madonna itself is behind a protective enclosure; the corner seams and reflections of the glass make photography difficult (best image at top of post).
Perhaps it's the distance, about twenty-five feet, but the Madonna seems smaller than expected – the Michelangelo sculptures we saw in Florence were all heroically over-scaled. She is in the center of an elaborate Baroque substructure with statues of St Clare (with eucharist) and St Philomena (with anchor, patron of infants) and a painting of the Last Supper in the upper frame. The Her stone niche is almost black.
The tone of the Madonna's marble is warmer than the surrounding stonework. The creases of her clothing are loose and natural. The Child's dimpled flesh presses and rolls as He squirms from his Mother's lap. All Gothic dazzle and Baroque drama are absent; she is a study in serene grace. While Northern Renaissance idealizes the 'real', the Italian Renaissance realizes the 'ideal'.
We sit in the provided chairs and enjoy Her company. A bumbling tourist grabs the iron stand on the other side of the ropes. He leans awkwardly toward the chapel's parapet and extends his phone, trying to take a picture of the carved panel. No wonder the Madonna is behind glass and at such a distance. We can see his arm straining and ask him to please stop; tourists can be awful.
Exiting the museum area, we glance back to the chancel and see that there is a replica of the Madonna's bust. The proportions do not seem quite right, and Her manner is too melancholy. You know something is 'right' when you see something that isn't.
Signage on the divider tells us about the Monuments Men, that like the Ghent Altarpiece we visited on Monday, this was stolen by the Nazis during the War and recovered. That is the level of 'art' these two pieces represent – so high that the Belgians have museums essentially built around them, that tourists clamor (even irresponsibly) to see them, and that the Army sent a special team to get them back from Hitler.
We walk behind the pulpit and observe pieces that did not make it into the museum. Still, they're good, but they're no Michelangelo's. It's like Salieri's curse, and we are left to deal with the diminution.
Speaking of the Northern Renaissance, our last appointment is at the Groeningemuseum, a minute or two away. But the very short journey coincides with a parade of formally dressed passengers in horse-drawn carriages; it looks like a wedding or a garden party. With all this finery, they look like important people.
Things move slowly, and we wait for the carriages to clear the gate before entering the Arenshof (courtyard). There are more carriages inside. From the other end of the Arenshof, we funnel into a narrow, walled alley, and then a modest stone archway. Thus, the Museum's contemporary building is hidden from the medieval town center.
One the Museum's great masterpieces, the Portret van Margareta van Eyck (Jan van Eyck, 1439), welcomes us. The lace of the headpiece and the woven 'horns' are evidence of van Eyck's skill and photographic clarity as a painter. But the solemnity of her expression is also apparent, as if the Brugse Madonna glanced to meet our gaze.
Nearby is van Eyck's Madonna met kanunnik Joris van der Paele (1436), with it astonishingly honest portrait of Canon van den Paele. A flood of sparkling details (carpet, canopy, vestments, armor) swirl around the smooth red and white robes of the Virgin and the Canon. Then, we are distracted by the vignettes on the arms of Her throne – 'Cain and Abel', 'Daniel with a lion', and the magnificent effect of the sunlight coming through the circles of glass behind Her.
Also nearby is the Moreeltriptiek (Hans Memling, 1484). The three figures in red draw our attention: Willem Moreel (patron, left panel), his wife Barbara van Hertsveldel (patroness, right), and St Christopher (center). And we find more odd elements: the hermit with the lantern over the Saint's shoulder and the arrow in the deer. The wing exteriors feature St John the Baptist and St George in grisaille – the yin and yang of Christian aggressiveness.
The next two panels by Memling appear to be a diptych, but are in fact parts of another triptych, the Crabbetriptiek. The panels form an Annunciatie (1467), which are the reverse or the outer wings; though not in the typical grisaille, the pale figures are dressed in white, so the effect is similar. The fronts are located in the Pierpont Morgan Library in New York (left panel, right panel). The center panel, the Kruisiging (crucifixion), is kept in the Museo Civico in Vicenza. This joins a series of Annunciations by Memling.
Another well-known piece is the Kruisafneming (deposition, follower of Memling, c1500) en de heilige Andreas (reverse). The Museum's literature suggests this double-sided panel is from the Beweningstweeluik (weeping diptych), the adjoining panel should show St John and the 'weeping women'.
In the corner is a larger, two-sided grouping of ten panels, the Legende van de heilige Ursula (Pieter Casembroodt [?], 1482). On the reverse are the four Evangelists (lower right panels), and an Annunciation from the upper two panel (shown backwards & apart).
Two paintings entitled Laatste Oordeel (Jan Provoost, 1525) and Laatste Oordeel (Jacques van den Coornhuuse, 1578) are an original and an 'interpretive copy'. While the characters add an 'archaic' look, the copy adds some dynamism and dimension but misses the more macabre demons. Provoost also shines in De gierigaard ende dood (1515/21), which depicts Death collecting a debt from an accountant, while in the background the artist interrupts (Bosch famously painted a similar moment).
In the Oordeel van Cambyses (Gerard David, 1498), the poor fellow is being flayed alive for his misdeeds, as gruesome an act as might be illustrated with clean lines and bright colors. And in the Job-tripteik (follower of Jheronimus Bosch, early 16th century), the three protagonists (St Anthony fends off demons on the left, Job in his ruined home at the center, St Jerome pays penance on the right) are tempted but remain faithful.
A version of Laatste Avondmaal (Pieter Pourbus, 1548) focuses on Judas' fate. The Last Supper plays out behind him as a boney, clawed creature enters from the right and servant boy removes his chair. His is the fate of the corruptible; he is doomed.
The Altaarstuk met de heilige Antonius en abt Antoine Wydoit, De Lactatie Bernardi (Pieter Claeissens I, 1557/60) revisits the idea of 'temptations' as shown in the Job-tripteik, with a remarkably calm St Anthony relating to the praying abbott (images are in reverse position). The obverse shows a murky 'Our Lady of the Milk' and St Bernard.
The Laatste Oordeel (Pieter Pourbus, 1551) is another telling of the biblical accounting of the Christian Apocalypse, a story full disturbing descriptions and near-perfect fodder for artists. In the case of Pourbus, he applies a high-level Renaissance technique and understanding and adds just a touch of bizarre Flemish imagery. In the foreground, two male figures 'pop' out of the ground with correct anatomical musculature and proper optical foreshortening.
With a curatorial crescendo, this sequence of paintings concludes with the Laatste Oordeel (Jheronimus Bosch, 1500/05). Here, Bosch leaves behind any pretense of 'believability', and offers a glimpse of weird and wonton ruination. His use of paint is superlative and innovative – thin threads of while paint move our eyes around the carnage, adding emphasis and action. Paradise is on the left, green and playful. The Savlator Mundi is in the central blue roundel, above a vision of utter disaster and confusion, as He lays judgement down. And Hades is on the right, its forces breech the walls – cities burn black, and the underserving suffer awful fates.
The denouement plays out in the last few galleries. The artists bring all their skills, mathematical knowledge, and Flemish sensibilities to bear. De prediking van Johannes de Doper (school of Pieter Bruegel II, 1601/20), is a copy of a painting by Pieter Bruegel I – featured in a video in the Musea yesterday.
We finish with the Allegorie van de vrede in de Nederlanden in 1577 (Pieter Claeissens II, 1577) and l'Attentat (René Magritte, 1932). In trying to resolve the margin between 'ideal' and 'real', this artistic heritage evolves into the 'surreal' and, in a meaningful way, paves the way for modern abstraction and expression.
In any case, it's a whirlwind of masterpieces (so designated by the Museum) and a whole lot to process – aesthetically, Biblically, historically, morally, poetically, even scientifically.
As in Brussel, we close the place and leave as the staff begins closing the doors.
Outside, the day is lovely. On our walk to the train station, we pass by the Sint-Salvatoreskatherdaal (11th-13th centuries) and turn west, away from the crowds.
We walk down Westmeers and follow the Kapucijnenrei (canal) into a quiet neighborhood of gabled, brick row-houses. The water is coated with green, like a runway to lead us back. We cross the bridge at the end of the street and enter Koning Albert I Park. The train station is just there.
Back at the hotel, with the weather turning, we stay in and watch The Monuments Men (movie, SD, 2014):
And here are archival pictures of the Monuments Men recovering the Ghent Altarpiece and the Madonna of Bruges from the the Altaussee salt mine (1945, Thomas Carr Howe papers, Archives of American Art):
And someone told us about the connection of the Bosch to the movie "In Bruges":
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