I visited this museum on my own during a cold winter day lit by a frosty sun whose hazy light filtered through the tall windows of the artist’s distinguished old home. While it was cold outside, the artwork, décor and style of the old home enveloped me in a kind of atmospheric romance and coziness.

Joaquin Sorolla met with a number of successes during his life. His was not the struggling, impoverished life of many artists at the time. He was even nominated as Knight of the Legion of Honor in 1900, and earned several medals of honor at exhibitions. His work – mostly portraits and landscapes – is known for its luminous quality that appears to glow from within. My personal favorites are his paintings by the sea and on the beach. They seem most alive, most beautiful, even capturing the essence of joy in a moment which cannot really be described; it can only be glimpsed and felt.

Take Walk on the Beach, for instance. The two female subjects in the painting are his wife on the left, and his daughter on the right. They were captured in a seemingly unguarded moment as they strolled by the seashore. The women’s dresses billow softly in the breeze, reflecting a brilliant white in the sun. There is something elegant and graceful in their poses, a certain rapture depicted in the luminous hues of the work.

Then there is The Horse’s Bath. The horse, in typical Sorollan style, is an unblemished white. The boy leading him out of the water by a rope is also unblemished and luminous, bathed in a sheen of water which catches the light of the sun. The sand, the sea, and the sailboats in the background all bring this piece to life. I can almost picture myself there, feeling the sun’s warmth on my skin, hearing the water gently lapping at the shore.

Here is a self-portrait of the artist depicted in full-beard. I would have preferred him clean-shaven, but understand that it would have been easier not to shave daily, as it would free up more time for his work. Joaquin Sorolla himself was an interesting man. He was physically attractive with something intense in his expression. I especially like studying the artist through his work, as it seems to hint at the depth of the man’s soul and the beauty dwelling there.

Every room in the museum serves as a reminder of the home’s gracious origins. There are large drawing rooms, elegant parlors and cozy sitting rooms, complete with furniture that beckons one to sit a moment and ponder the surroundings. As I moved from room to room, I almost fancied an impeccably dressed footman suddenly appearing at my side with a service tray.

“A cup of tea, my lady, or perhaps a glass of champagne?” he would say with a slight bow.

And I, startled at his sudden appearance, but hiding it well, would hesitate only momentarily as I glanced at the tray. The champagne is certainly enticing, but I’d rather be perfectly lucid before taking the subway and walking the rest of the way back to my flat from here. So I incline my head, and gratefully accept the cup of tea with a soft smile, “thank you, sir.”

Ah, if only in my imagination. But yes, this museum inspires such thoughts from this writer. It is worth a visit any time of the year, but perhaps more so on a cold, dreary day with few visitors around, so you can feel as though you are a special guest, and you have the old house all to yourself. It’s the best way to immerse yourself in the sublimity of his work.

For more information visit Sorolla Museum.

The Museo del Prado was such a place.

Each time I made my way through the grand entrance, I felt a sense of enchantment. I almost fancied my ankle-length coat was a long gown from a bygone era. I glanced up at the massive columns of the portico, and then stepped through the doors as though into a palace.

The building itself is a historic structure originally commissioned during the reign of Charles III in 1785. During the Peninsular War between Napoleon and the allied powers of Britain, Spain and Portugal, it was even used as a gunpowder-store and cavalry headquarters for the Napoleonic troops based in Madrid.

Everything about the Prado enchanted me. From the gleaming marble floors, to the soaring vaulted ceiling, to the endless white galleries and halls hung with beautiful masterpieces. Even the smell of the interior evoked another place and time, transporting me instantly to centuries past.

There were days where I could enter one of the rooms and have it all to myself, then sit quietly on a bench and contemplate what those larger-than-life paintings have seen. Often I would step up closer to gaze into the eyes of one of the subjects, only to have them stare right back at me. What were they thinking in the moment they were immortalized by the artist? What secrets did they keep?

Diego Velazquez’s Las Meninas seems to beckon the onlooker to step inside the room depicted in the 10’5” by 9’1” painting.  I could almost smell the carved heavy wood furniture, the woolen carpets, and the fragrance of lavender and jasmine drifting in from the windows which would certainly have been left open to clear away some of the odor of the turpentine and oil paints. Feelings of anticipation and excitement create a stir as the King and Queen prepare to enter the room and see Velazquez’s work for themselves.

Albrecht Dürer’s Self-portrait has a knowing look, almost daring the viewer to discern his thoughts.

The Garden of Earthly Delights by Hieronymus Bosch is a fascinating biblical narrative in triptych form that is so detailed, one can visit the museum many times and still not take it all in.

Then there is El Greco’s The Nobleman with his Hand on his Chest. Something about the portrait is arresting and captivates the onlooker. Perhaps it is the feeling evident in the eyes of the lord. But then again, is it sincerity or lordly disdain? The way his right hand rests over his chest suggests a promise made, or a moment of revelation. His bearing is self-assured and dignified, down to the detail of his fine clothes, valuable sword, and the costly medallion peeking beneath his doublet. The slight lift of his brow is compelling and persuasive. The set of his mouth, decisive. Although the painting dates back to about 1580, it seems very much alive. Very real. I feel as though I could reach up and touch the texture of the nobleman’s face, and feel the bones of his slender fingers. His jaw would undoubtedly tense in surprise as I took the liberty of brushing the curve of his cheek. But then his hand would certainly close over mine in a firm grip once he regained his composure.

Such are the thoughts of a writer’s imagination. For the Prado is a place of secrets, revelations, and never-ending tales.  A place where beauty has been immortalized, and emotions have been preserved in all their agony or delight, pleasure or pain. A place where the human condition is captured and displayed in all its existential truth.

In addition to exquisite works by masters such as Diego Velázquez, Hieronymus Bosch, Peter Paul Rubens, Titian, Raphael, Rembrandt, El Greco, and Francisco de Goya, the Prado’s vast collection includes thousands of paintings, drawings, prints, artifacts and sculptures. It is a veritable palace; a feast for the senses, and a banquet for the soul. There is a kind of sacred splendor about the place that is worth a thousand visits. A place to think and feel and dream. A place that offered me solace from the poignant longing and loneliness which were my close companions while living so far away from home.

The Prado’s graceful galleries and timeless masterpieces beckon with the promise of enchantment. It is worth getting swept away into another time, even if only for the duration of one’s visit. It will always be a special place to me. I’m sure this is due in part to my intensely romantic nature, which has only deepened with time.

I give El Greco’s Nobleman one last glance before departing, and he seems to press his hand a little more firmly to his chest, and dip his head into the slightest of nods in reply. He remains with Las Meninas, Dürer’s Self-portrait, and the countless other portraits, landscapes and sculptures there, to ponder the existential points of life. I am sure the museum’s halls echo with their whispering voices when no one is around.

Such is the power of beauty and imagination, and the museums which house their products.  The Prado opened up another world to me every time I stepped through its majestic entrance.

It may for you as well.

Prado Museum

Museo del Prado
credit: Peter Eimon / CC BY-SA 3.0

One of the best museums in the world, the Prado houses an extensive collection of European art that includes paintings, sculptures, prints and historic documents. Art from Spanish painters like Francisco de Goya and Diego Velázquez are best represented here, along with countless other masterpieces including Titian’s Self-Portrait, Peter Paul Rubens’s The Three Graces, and Hieronymus Bosch’s Garden of Earthly Delights. The Prado has been open to the public since 1819, and can be visited throughout the year except on January 1, May 1, and December 25. 

Buen Retiro Park

Parque del Retiro
credit: Carlos Delgado / CC BY-SA 3.0

It comes as no surprise to learn that Buen Retiro Park once belonged to the Spanish Monarchy before it was turned into a public park in the late 1800s. Its sumptuous gardens are graced with beautiful monuments, sculptures, fountains and lush landscaping with all sorts of trees and flowers. Visitors can rent rowboats or ride in horse-drawn carriages. Outdoor concerts and exhibitions are also held here regularly. It is a delightful place to just stroll and people watch or observe street performers around the pond.

Plaza Mayor

Plaza Mayor
credit: Sebastian Dubiel / CC BY-SA 3.0

Plaza Mayor is Madrid’s primary public square, located near many of the city’s main attractions including Puerta del Sol and the Royal Palace. It is a lovely place to stroll by the arcade where restaurants, cafes and shops face the open square from underneath the elegant porticoes. Originally built during King Phillip III’s reign in the first part of the seventeenth century, the plaza’s history has seen a variety of uses including bullfights, crowning ceremonies, festivals, markets, and even public executions.

Palacio Real

Palacio Real de Madrid
credit: Alvesgaspar / CC BY-SA 3.0

This is Madrid’s Royal Palace where state ceremonies and banquets are held. It was built on orders of King Phillip V on the site of a ninth-century Moorish fortress. This sprawling Neo-classical and baroque palace includes a central courtyard, a Hall of Mirrors, Royal Library, Royal Pharmacy, beautiful gardens, paintings and sculptures, and an impressive Royal Armory with tournament pieces, suits of armor and weapons dating back to the fifteenth century. The Palace is open year-round for tours.

Puerta del Sol

Puerta del Sol
credit: multisanti (Santiago Díaz) / CC BY-SA 2.0

Located just steps from the Plaza Mayor, Puerta del Sol is one of Madrid’s famous public squares. Its name means “Gate of the Sun,” and is the site of one of the gates in the wall that surrounded the city in fifteenth-century Madrid. This is the place where Spaniards ring in the New Year in time with the chiming clock tower and its bells that grace the square. It is also the center of the city’s network of roads. Puerta del Sol is a lively place full of bars, restaurants, cafes, boutique shops and landmarks like the Bear & Madroño Tree that is a heraldic symbol of Madrid.