The 1997 opening of the Guggenheim Museum Bilbao in northern Spain threatened to steal the thunder from Madrid's museums. Bilbao's whirling dervish of a building, a titanium-clad fantasy designed by Frank O. Gehry, zoomed instantly to the top of every art pilgrim's list.
But after you've seen the building, you've seen the building. It's unlikely that Americans would make the return trip for the contents, most of which are packaged shows sent from the Guggenheim in New York.
Madrid is another story. The collections in the museums around the Prado, oldest and proudest of them all, are spectacular and singular, whether your interest is in 17th-century painting, cutting-edge contemporary, or, surprisingly, 19th-century American art: It's startling to come upon works by Winslow Homer and Fitz Hugh Lane in the Thyssen-Bornemisza Museum.
The Big Three -- the Prado, the Thyssen and the Reina Sofia, which is Spain's largest contemporary museum -- aren't Madrid's only art museums, not by a long shot. Among the oddest is the Monasterio de las Descalzas Reales -- the Royal Barefoot Franciscans -- which is still a working convent but allows visitors. Originally, the nuns had to be from the aristocracy, and had to come bearing art to serve as their dowries as "brides of Christ." The art, still hanging on the walls or ensconced in shrines, isn't the very finest, but the sheer idea of shutting yourself up for life with your paintings suggests the dour aspects of the Spanish stereotype.
But it's the trio of the largest museums that are the biggest draw for art lovers. They're an easy stroll from each other, and a good thing, too: There's so much to see inside that you won't want to do much extra walking. The museums are clustered around the Plaza Canovas del Castillo, whose central Neptune Fountain cools even the steamiest Spanish day.
The Prado
A neoclassical masterpiece with a long granite colonnade, the Prado officially opened in 1819 as repository of the royal paintings collection. While not the largest national museum in the world (which is part of its charm), it is, painting for painting, one of the choicest.
Whatever else might be said of them, the Hapsburg and Bourbon kings who ruled Spain for several centuries shared what's called a great "eye." And their collections were only enriched with the suppression of the monasteries in the 1830s, which brought to the Madrid museum long-hidden masterpieces from all over the country.
Having neglected its physical plant for years, the Prado is planning an expansion. In 1996 it staged an architectural competition that ended in stalemate. Now, there's a designated designer -- Spain's reigning architect, Rafael Moneo -- and his expansion plans for the Prado are not without controversy.
Among other things, Moneo's plan involves moving the collections of the popular Museum of the Army to Toledo, so the Prado can take over the Army building. It would also join four existing buildings through an underground connector.
Much of the expansion is to be built underground, so as not to disturb the cherished look of the neighborhood. Still, there's opposition. An old church and cloister behind the present building would be incorporated into the scheme. During my visit, hanging from the balconies of pricey apartment buildings nearby were banners saying, "Save the Cloisters of San Jeronimo." Negotiations for the expansion continue.
Because Moneo also designed the Thyssen museum, which is inside the Villahermosa Palace, and redesigned the Atocha train station across from the Reina Sofia, this part of Madrid is becoming known as the Moneo District.
The Prado has never been particularly visitor-friendly, especially to English speakers. Most of the signs and labels are in Spanish only, with the occasional "You are here" in English.
I bought an extremely reasonable triple-ticket that cost under $8 and was good for one admission each to the Prado, the Thyssen and the Reina Sofia. For those who can't handle all three in a single day -- and it's a lot to take in -- the ticket is good for more than a year.
The Prado collections are ravishing. Among my personal painting favorites is a Fra Angelico "Annunciation," a radiant, golden picture still on its altar-base, which gives it a welcome context.
The great Bosch "Garden of Earthly Delights" is still shocking, despite being nearly 500 years old. It's full of bubble-gum-pink aliens, giant fruits that look genetically manipulated, animals fornicating, a menage a trois, sexual shenanigans unsurpassed since in their imaginativeness. It's one of the most complicated and mystifying paintings in history. And, fortunately, the Bosch room, which also holds other examples of the enigmatic master's work, is one where you can put a 100 peseta coin (about 53 cents) in a machine that dispenses an English-language gallery guide.
