Voices on the Wind Voices in Tribute
Twenty-first Century Bosch by David Chorlton It is dark in the galleries where the Bosch paintings hang. Madonnas are sleeping and Jesus comes down from his crosses to rest while a naked man slides along a knife edge to the floor where a head with two feet and the lutenist with a pigís face are on their way to the lovers in a bubble so delicately poised between a flower and a flood. All things are possible: a water wheel grinds in a hermitís chest; an arsonist has set the ocean alight; the glutton rides a fish through the smoke from a city destroyed just a week ago now, where the guilty and the innocent cannot be told apart, passing as they do along a tongue with spikes to enter a gaping mouth where their cries are echoes from centuries past, centuries believed to have ended, but no: the man with the head of a kestrel who sits on a three legged throne has an appetite always for more. A rodent to him tastes the same as a sniper or a child.