Of all the museums in Berlin I visited, the Gemäldegalerie was my favourite. I wasn’t expecting so much beauty, so many artists and so many works of art.
Are you deciding what to see in Berlin?
Then you absolutely must visit this fantastic museum.
The Gemäldegalerie is one of the museums in Berlin where you find works that are wildly different in period, artists and origin. The paintings come from very different collections: the main core is made up of the masterpieces of the old royal museum (the Altes Museum, opened in 1830).
Other paintings were bought in the 19th century from the collections of the Italian Giustiniani and the English art dealer Solly; others still were gathered here from various German imperial residences.
Then a real tragedy happened.
From 1904 to 1930 the collection was housed in today’s Bode-Museum; during the Second World War, in 1945, about 400 paintings were destroyed. Among the lost masterpieces are works by Caravaggio, Rubens, Goya, Friedrich, Ghirlandaio, Lippi, Signorelli and Veronese, to name just a few.
With the division of Berlin between the Allies and the Soviet Union, the surviving works were split between two museums. Only after the reunification of Germany was it decided to bring the collection back together in a new building, opened in 1998 within the Kulturforum, not far from Potsdamer Platz.
In short: just as in Rome you can’t miss the Capitoline Museums and the Vatican Museums, and in Paris you absolutely must visit the Louvre, in Berlin the Gemäldegalerie is a must.
Want to know the ten works I liked most?
Let’s go!
1 – The Madonna in the Church, Jan van Eyck
In the museums of Berlin you find many works by Flemish artists, but this one at the Gemäldegalerie touched me in a special way. It’s a small painting datable to around 1438-1440, by one of the greatest Flemish masters: Jan van Eyck.
The Madonna holds the Child inside an incredibly beautiful Gothic church. The building is small compared to the figures, yet described in every tiny detail, with the meticulousness typical of Flemish painters: the Virgin’s crown, the stained glass, the capitals, the crucifix in the background, the columns.
But it’s the light that truly amazes.
It doesn’t just illuminate the scene: it carries a deep symbolic meaning. The light of God entering the church is an allegory of the supernatural conception of Jesus: the Virgin receives life as the light filters through the windows without breaking them.
A curiosity: that supernatural meaning is underlined by a detail that is impossible in nature. The light, in fact, comes from the north, where the sun never shines: a precise sign that this is not earthly light. And the position of the work in the museum is perfect: it looks like a cut in the wall, an open window onto a scene almost 600 years old.
2 – Netherlandish Proverbs, Pieter Bruegel
Among all the paintings of the Gemäldegalerie, this one by Pieter Bruegel (1559) is one of the most peculiar: it’s a careful depiction of over a hundred Flemish proverbs.
With the precision typical of Northern painters, Bruegel created a real “village of proverbs”. Nothing is there by chance: every figure, every gesture reflects an old saying, a reflection or a vice of the Dutch people. At first glance it may look like a critique of folklore, but in reality it’s a tribute to popular culture, to its irony and to the power with which certain expressions pin down an idea.
But how do you recognise the proverbs?
Don’t worry: in the room, as in many other museums in Berlin, there are cards explaining each proverb and its position in the painting. So you can find them even if they aren’t part of your culture.
If you like games, try to sharpen your eyes and spot a few:
- Standing in your clogs in the water (waiting in vain);
- The best of women ties a devil to the pillow (women know one more than the devil);
- A hoe without a handle (something useless).
Have fun!
3 – Amor Vincit Omnia, Caravaggio
Rivers of ink have been spilled over this canvas of the Gemäldegalerie.
Amor vincit omnia, that is “love conquers all”, is depicted by a young, winking Cupid triumphing over every human endeavour. On the ground lie armour (war), instruments and scores (music), a compass (geometry and study), a pen, the laurel of glory, a crown: all trampled and defeated by love.
The painting was made around 1601-1602 for the Marchese Vincenzo Giustiniani, who considered it the jewel of his collection. Just think, he kept it covered by a curtain, which he drew back to show it only to his most illustrious guests. It stayed with the Giustiniani until 1812; in 1815 it was bought for the Berlin museums.
Here’s a curiosity!
The young man portrayed in this unusual pose was Caravaggio’s assistant, and perhaps also his lover: his name was Cecco Boneri, known as Cecco del Caravaggio. The large dark wings he wears are those of an eagle, not an angel: they were lent to Caravaggio as a prop by the painter Orazio Gentileschi, a detail that helps date the picture precisely. In his right hand Cupid grips the arrows, his attribute, while his other hand is hidden behind his back; his sensuality and amused smile seem at once an invitation and a disarming declaration of power.
I know, it’s strange to find this work in the museums of Berlin, because it’s a masterpiece by our own Caravaggio, but it was acquired entirely legitimately.
4 – Self-Portrait, Titian
I’ve already told you about Titian (Tiziano Vecellio) some time ago, but finding him in front of me like this was moving.
For those who don’t know, Titian wasn’t only an artist but a true entrepreneur, with a workshop that turned out masterpieces for the most powerful lords of his time. His revolution lies above all in his use of colour, of different hues and of light, which give his works an extraordinary compositional unity.
Okay, but which of his works is at the Gemäldegalerie in Berlin?
Simply his self-portrait. It isn’t the only time the great master portrays himself, but it’s perhaps the finest. I promise you, standing in front of it makes a real impression.
I really mean it.
5 – Madonna and Child, Raphael
The sweetness of Raphael’s Madonnas always strikes, and at the Gemäldegalerie you’ll find several.
In this painting the Madonna is shown interrupted in her reading by the Christ Child, who tugs at her robe to catch her attention, while she looks at him with love and patience. A sacred scene that is also a scene of everyday tenderness, of incredible refinement. The picture, painted around 1508, is known as the Colonna Madonna, after the family that owned it for centuries, and was bought by the German museum in 1827.
Its simplicity is only apparent: look at the landscape behind the figures, the woman’s pose, the cover of the book: everything is rendered with extreme care.
A curiosity: the Gemäldegalerie holds as many as five depictions of the Virgin painted by Raphael, including the famous Solly Madonna and the Terranuova Madonna. But this one remains my favourite.
6 – Adoration of the Magi, Masaccio
Masaccio’s Adoration of the Magi is one of his most famous works. It was painted in 1426 as part of the great altarpiece for the Carmine in Pisa (the celebrated Pisa Polyptych, now dismembered across various museums) and it’s one of the finest examples of Renaissance art.
Masaccio was a great innovator, and you can tell even just by looking at the ox and the donkey, caught from behind, completely oblivious to the rest of the scene. Look at the study of perspective in the hut, in the saddle resting on the ground, in the horse on the right: compare it with the paintings of his contemporaries and you’ll grasp the scale of his genius.
His figures live in their own space: it’s a sacred scene, and yet it seems to happen before our eyes. Confirming this, the patrons portrayed in contemporary dress, on the right.
7 – Madonna and Child with Eight Angels, Botticelli
This painting, known as the Raczyński Tondo, was made by Botticelli around 1477. As always we find the Virgin holding the Child; on either side, eight angels arranged symmetrically hold white lilies, symbol of virginity and purity. Some sing reading from a book, others look at one another, one gazes at you as you look.
The Child turns towards the viewer as a grown-up would: he is already wise, already aware of the mission of redemption that awaits him. But it’s the Madonna’s face that draws all the attention: white, luminous, beautiful, so beautiful she looks like the goddess Venus.
A curiosity: it is perhaps another idealised portrait of Simonetta Vespucci, the most beautiful woman in the Florence of the time, loved by Botticelli so deeply that he asked to be buried at her feet. What do you think, does she resemble her?
8 – The Money Changer, Rembrandt
Rembrandt’s Money Changer is one of those works that seem to want to pull you into another world.
By the soft light of a candle, an old man works at night at his desk, cluttered with papers, money and ledgers; he has spectacles perched on his nose and his mouth half open. This painting of the Gemäldegalerie, also known as “the parable of the rich fool”, is an invitation not to pile up earthly riches but to care for one’s soul. It was made in 1627, and the way the light spreads through the darkness makes it extraordinarily ahead of its time.
It is without doubt one of the finest paintings in the Gemäldegalerie.
9 – Canaletto’s views
There’s one in almost every great museum, but you never get enough of Canaletto’s views: the way he depicts Venice seems to carry you back in time.
The Gemäldegalerie too holds some of the finest: the Grand Canal and the Campo di Rialto (datable to around 1758-1763), with that almost photographic precision in the tiniest details, from the gondolas to the market traders. Canaletto was one of the most prolific artists ever, and yet the quality and the meticulousness of his views remain unmatched.
10 – The Delivery of the Keys to Saint Peter, Crivelli
This was by far the work that struck me the most in the museums of Berlin. I stood looking at it for a very long time, and I can still see it before me.
It was the central panel of a great altarpiece painted by Carlo Crivelli in 1488 for the Dominican church of San Pietro di Muralto, in Camerino. After seeing some reconstructions of the altarpiece (whose panels are today scattered across half of Europe), I think I prefer it like this, on its own: you admire it better.
We’ve seen the scene a thousand times: at the centre the enthroned Madonna and, in her arms, the Child handing the keys of Paradise to Saint Peter, kneeling and dressed as a pope, while on either side a group of saints looks on, moved.
But the spectacular thing is the decoration, so typical of Crivelli. The fabrics of the robes, the stones, the shimmering reflections of the metals, the marbles, the sculptures: everything is finished, heightened, perfectly realistic. The figures’ gazes converge on Saint Peter receiving the key, and it’s the key that is the true protagonist of the work: it really seems to shine.
It left me breathless.
How to visit the Gemäldegalerie
The Gemäldegalerie is at the Kulturforum, just west of Potsdamer Platz. It is closed on Mondays and open the other days from 10am to 6pm (Thursdays until 8pm, Saturdays and Sundays from 11am to 6pm). The ticket costs about 14 euros (reduced 7), free for under-18s.
If you love art as much as I do, though, in Berlin you’ll be spoiled for choice: the city is full of museums and small galleries that will make you want to cross it end to end. Your only real problem will be the time you have.
How to make the most of your visits?
I recommend the 3-day Museum Pass Berlin, which gives access to over 30 museums, the Gemäldegalerie included, without queuing at the ticket office. It’s the city’s official pass and lets you explore Museum Island and most of the state collections. One warning only: the famous Pergamon Museum is closed for a long renovation (a partial reopening is planned for 2027), so for now it can’t be visited.
When will you get another chance to visit Berlin? If you go, let me know your personal top ten of the Gemäldegalerie: you already know mine. And if you want to continue the journey, I’ll be waiting for you in my guide to Berlin.
