‘The pictures, they look at you.’ John Banville’s journey through the Prado

For Irish novelist John Banville, the captivating eyes in the paintings at Spain's Prado Museum offer an intense connection that blurs the line between art and reality. Although he has been granted the privilege of visiting the museum at any hour as part of a month-long literary fellowship, Banville prefers to immerse himself in the vibrant atmosphere of the museum during opening hours. “I don’t like coming here after hours; it’s too eerie. The pictures, they look at you,” he confides, glancing away from the gaze of Diego Velázquez in his monumental work, Las Meninas.

This iconic 17th-century painting, which depicts the Infanta Margarita surrounded by her attendants, a dwarf, a jester with a dog, and a reflection of King Philip IV and his queen, also captures Velázquez himself, stepping back from his canvas. Banville, who appreciates the poetic intricacies of this masterpiece, describes the painting as “always a surprise” and “a challenge.” He muses, “It’s the enigma of it, the strangeness of it. Every time I look at it, it becomes stranger again.”

His access to the Prado includes behind-the-scenes tours and exclusive areas like restoration workshops, courtesy of the museum’s “Writing the Prado” programme. Sponsored by the Loewe Foundation, this initiative invites selected writers to explore the museum’s vast collection over four weeks, culminating in the production of a short work of fiction. Previous fellows include Nobel laureates John Coetzee and Olga Tokarczuk.

Reflecting on his upcoming piece inspired by his experiences at the Prado, Banville reveals, “I haven’t worked out the details, but it’s about someone going through the gallery and about those piercing eyes.” He imagines a character haunted by the fear of exposure, noting how “the eyes follow him.” Banville believes that Velázquez embodies this recognition, saying, “I think Velázquez says ‘Yeah, I know who you are.’”

The novelist's connection to art began in his youth when he entertained the idea of becoming a painter. However, he soon realised that his lack of talent in drawing and colour left him ill-equipped for the canvas. “I painted some dreadful pictures, oh God. If they ever come out, I am doomed,” he laughs, acknowledging that his true medium became the written word.

In 2022, over 3.2 million visitors explored the Prado’s remarkable collection, which showcases the heights of Spanish artistry. The museum boasts around 4,000 pieces on display, including renowned works by Velázquez, Rubens, Bosch, Goya, El Greco, and Titian, as well as masterpieces by Caravaggio, Fra Angelico, and Bruegel the Elder. For Banville, the Prado provides a retreat from the modern world, especially since photography is strictly prohibited. “It’s wonderful. I see people going around other galleries just taking photos, and I want to say to them, ‘look at the bloody picture!’” he exclaims. He believes that all museums should adopt a similar policy.

While Banville has mixed feelings about Goya’s darker Black Paintings, he finds himself enchanted by the figures in Rubens’ The Garden of Love, humorously noting that “they are made of bread dough.” Another Velázquez painting, The Feast of Bacchus, catches his eye, perhaps because the figures seem to notice him as they indulge in their revelry.

Having taken a rare month off from his usual writing routine, Banville relishes his time in Madrid, where he enjoys leisurely afternoons with a glass of wine in the sun, far removed from the dreary Irish weather his family describes. At 78, he ponders his future literary endeavours and expresses confidence that true artistry will remain untouchable by artificial intelligence. “A work of art is a very rare thing… Real art won’t succumb to AI,” he asserts. “I find works of art to be alive.”

Through his reflective journey in the Prado, Banville not only reconnects with his artistic inspirations but also contemplates the enduring power of art to capture the essence of life and humanity.