For 600 years, the Church of our Lady
has stood, with its 400-foot-tall tower of bricks,
as a memorial to the power and wealth of Bruges at its height.
Inside, reclining statues
mark the tombs of the last local rulers of Bruges,
Mary of Burgundy,
and her father, Charles the Bold.
This delicate Madonna and Child is said to have been
the only Michelangelo statue to leave Italy in his lifetime.
It marks the tomb of the wealthy Bruges businessman
who bought the statue in Tuscany.
Mary, slightly smaller than life-size,
sits while young Jesus stands in front of her.
Their expressions are mirror images of each other,
serene but a bit melancholy, with downcast eyes,
as though pondering what lies ahead for the young child.
Though they're lost in thought,
their hands instinctively link, tenderly.
Just across the street, a monastery ran a hospital.
It recalls how the sick were treated.
It also displays masterpieces by the great Flemish painter,
hometown boy Hans Memling.
Some 500 years ago, the nave of this former church
was lined with the sick and dying.
Nuns served as nurses.
In many ways, this was less a hospital than a hospice.
It helped the down and out make the transition
from this world to the next.
Rather than dying in the streets,
they died here, with dignity.
Care was more for the soul than the body.
Religious art reminded those suffering
that Christ could feel their pain, having lived it himself.
Today, rather than the sick and dying,
the wards now house
a handful of exquisite paintings by Hans Memling.
Memling was a master of Flemish primitives.
Primitive is not an insult; It was a 19th-century term
for the nostalgic, pure and spiritual art
of these highly skilled 15th-century oil painters.
Employed by and often portraying Belgium's wealthy,
they captured their world in astonishing detail.
Hans Memling's "St. John's Altarpiece"
was designed to comfort patients in the hospital.
Gazing at this slice of heaven,
they could imagine leaving this world of pain and illness
and joining Mary and Jesus in a serene setting,
listening to heavenly music and conversing with the saints.
Memling's heaven echoes wealthy Bruges in the 1400s,
showing the city skyline,
oriental carpets that passed through here,
fine furniture manufactured by the city,
and the latest Italian fashions.
In the right panel,
Memling then takes us on a journey
to the end of the world.
John the Evangelist sits on the island of Patmos,
transfixed as he envisions the apocalypse now.
He writes down his vision,
a revelation of the end of time,
which eventually becomes the last book of the bible,
"Revelations."
Up in heaven, in a rainbow bubble,
God opens the seals of a book, unleashing awful events,
fires, plagues and wars
that stretch as far as the eye can see.
The dreaded four horsemen gallop across the dreamscape,
chasing helpless mortals who scramble for cover.
In the "St. John Altarpiece,"
Hans Memling shows us the full range of his palette,
from medieval grace to Renaissance realism
to avant-garde surrealism, all in a luxurious setting
somewhere between Bruges and heaven.