Conclusion

Questions are natural to the viewer’s mind. Answers are inevitable – but they should not be automatically assigned to Bosch’s mind. It is not possible to determine the exact conclusions the painter meant to draw, or whether he intended any specific implications in the subplots of his works. Not even the painter himself could have given a rational explanation of all the separate units of The Temptation of Saint Anthony altarpiece. This is not to say, however, that there is no reason in this painting. If the triptych is considered as a whole, it is seen to be organised in a logical, even conventional fashion. The saint is placed in the centre of the central panel, the elements arranged around him with a certain amount of symmetrical planning. There is a planar progression in the painting and a “closing” of the composition, the side panels being so designed that the saint, placed in the same position in each, turns towards the centre. Bosch’s perspective is not accurate, but scientific means had not yet penetrated Northern art. In some ways, the painter anticipated the Baroque style in his diagonal positioning of the fortress and the painterly effects he achieved, especially in the area of the fire. He attempted aerial perspective and in his later paintings (such as the Prado Epiphany) achieved mature results. De Tolnay believed that Bosch’s purposeful misuse (or his unwitting disuse) of either form of perspective, combined with the immateriality of some of his figures due to their painterly handling, give the Saint Anthony painting the appearance of an aquarium with the figures floating like apparitions in a vertical space. He described the artist’s use of colour as enhancing this impression, as he placed warm, rich colours around the edges of the painting and ashy, silvery colours in the centre. This subversion of the natural colour scheme would emphasise the unreality of the setting.

Whatever the means employed by the artist to achieve his effects and whether they were fully intentional or not, it is certain that he did intend to convey the impression of evil. In fact, it should always be kept in mind that this was the painter’s central motivation. The desire to record the pervasiveness of evil in the world and in its many guises was such an extraordinarily religious drive with Bosch that it gives direction when there seems to be none and offers control when that virtue seems to have been forgotten. It was with full awareness of this central purpose that Bosch created an orderly arrangement in which the agents of evil swarm in profusion and confusion. Holding the control of awareness over the whole, the artist relaxed it in the parts. It is only when an attempt is made to analyse the individual parts that the basic order is forgotten and chaos seems to reign. The baffled viewer then decides that Bosch was either a mad projectionist of his uncontrolled hallucinations, or that he hid his rational meaning in a labyrinth of symbolism to which someone, someday, will find the map. There can be no rational interpretation of these paintings. Nor does this mean that Hieronymus Bosch was mad. With a fully rational mind this artist set his stage; then, (to

Bosch follower, Christ among the Doctors, 1555-1561. 74 x 58 cm. Musée du Louvre, Paris.

Bosch follower, The Adoration of the Magi (triptych), 1525-1540. Oil on panel, 80.5 x 115 cm. adopt an anachronistic figure of speech) he placed his mind “in neutral” and allowed it to be propelled by his imagination.

In other words, he surrendered his consciousness to his unconscious mind. Whatever restraints there are that cause the mind to function in related, reasonable patterns were dropped. The images of the human mind, which come and go, are not sought out nor kept in order, from which no ideas are abstracted, among which no selection is practiced, and which were allowed a concatenation of their own making. From knowledge implanted at earlier times, and at many times, these images were churned up from obscure levels in the artist’s mind. In another anachronistic image, the action was like that of poker chips put into a transparent washing machine to display the water movement to a possible buyer. They appear, disappear, and reappear – in different combinations at every revolution.

Similarly, the images formed in many systems made to explain evil came to the artist’s mind in an incredible number of combinations, thus accounting for the variety of usages over the panels. In musical terms, the result would be as the “music” played by the wind on an aeolian harp. It can be argued that such noise is chaotic, but the strings are tuned in unison. In the same way, the artist’s mind was tuned to his subject. He knew for what (the service of the Lord) and against what (the machinations of the Devil) he allowed his mind to play. There is, indeed, obscurity in this man’s utterances; I would not argue that the obscure is necessarily profound. Nor would I imply that the mind surrendered is as capable of great statement as the mind controlled. I would affirm, however, that the power of the imagination is unlimited; not only capable of a reproductive function, forming images of things once seen but now absent, it is also capable of an inventive, or creative function, forming images of things never before seen – actually non-existent.

Fashion and exigencies of the times decree to what extent the artist operates according to rule and control. With the artist who reproduces only things seen, immediate contact is made between the artist’s mind and that of the viewer. There is satisfaction for both – for the painter because he or she will be understood – for the viewer who understands. The contact, which the inventive artist establishes, is more nebulous; the path from mind to mind is not a closed but open circuit. This artist not only reveals to the viewer the processes of the artist’s mind but seeks to generate these processes in the viewer’s mind. In the words of A.C. Bradley (writing of poetry): “the specific way of the [inventive] imagination is not to clothe in imagery consciously held ideas; it is to produce half-consciously a matter from which, when produced, the [viewer] may, if he chooses, extract ideas”.

With incredible energy, Bosch produced the matter. It is left to the viewer, not to explain what is in the painter’s mind – but to examine the wonder engendered in his or her own mind and, doing so, be infinitely intrigued. Roger Marijnissen invited the reader of his book on Bosch to enjoy the paintings, always keeping in mind that the artist was a “born painter”. Bosch dwells on the fears of his time, many of which are of our time, too, but let us celebrate the artist, while appreciating the message, and not consume our energies only on the “riddle” of his work.