Museum of Fine Arts, Budapest

Stand at the foot of the broad stone steps and look up. Eight tall Corinthian columns rise in front of you. Above them, a triangular pediment is filled with carved figures. Behind you, the open paving of Heroes' Square stretches out, and you can hear traffic on Andrássy Avenue. It is hard to believe it at first, but you are standing in front of something built to look like an ancient Greek temple, in the middle of Central Europe.

This is the Museum of Fine Arts. Hungarians call it the Szépművészeti Múzeum. It opened its doors in 1906. At that time Budapest was one of the fastest-growing cities in Europe, and it was filling its streets with grand public buildings. The square in front of you was laid out to celebrate the thousandth anniversary of the Hungarian state. The museum was part of that same ambition: a young capital wanted to show that it belonged among the great cultural cities of the world.

The building was designed by two architects, Albert Schickedanz and Fülöp Herzog. Look across the square and you will see their other work, the Hall of Art, called the Műcsarnok in Hungarian. The two buildings face each other like a pair of bookends. The museum's style is often called eclectic. That means the architects borrowed freely from many past periods, including classical Greece, the Renaissance, and the Romanesque age, and combined them in one building.

The heart of the collection is older than the building itself. In 1870, the Hungarian state bought the art collection of the Esterházy family. They were one of the richest and most powerful noble families in the kingdom. Their paintings became the foundation of a national collection. Over the following decades, curators added gifts, purchases, and objects from other institutions. Today the museum holds art that spans thousands of years, from ancient Egypt to the twentieth century.

Here is something that many visitors do not expect. This museum has one of the strongest collections of Spanish painting outside Spain. Walk through the Old Masters galleries and you can find works by El Greco, with his long, flickering figures. There is also work by Goya and by Velázquez. If you have never been to Madrid, this is a rare chance to see these artists together under one roof.

The Italian rooms are just as important. Among their treasures is a small, unfinished painting of the Virgin and Child by Raphael. It is known as the Esterházy Madonna, after the family who once owned it. Part of the surface is still only sketched in. That makes it unusual, because you can see how a great Renaissance painter built up a picture, layer by layer.

That painting has a dramatic story. In 1983, thieves broke into this museum and stole several Old Master paintings, including works by Raphael. It became one of the most famous art thefts of the Cold War period. The paintings were later recovered in Greece and returned to Budapest. When you stand in front of the Esterházy Madonna today, remember that for a time, no one knew if it would ever hang here again.

Now think about the rooms themselves, not only the objects inside them. The architects designed several halls to match the art they would hold. The most remarkable is the Romanesque Hall. Romanesque is the heavy, round-arched style of European churches from roughly a thousand years ago. The hall has painted columns, deep colours, and patterned walls that make you feel you have entered a medieval church.

The Romanesque Hall also has its own story of loss and return. It was damaged during the Second World War. For decades afterwards it was closed to visitors and used largely for storage. The museum closed for a major renovation in the 2010s. When it reopened in 2018, the Romanesque Hall opened again too, restored to its original colours. Many people in Budapest saw it for the first time in their lives.

Go down to the lower floor and the centuries fall away quickly. The Egyptian collection holds painted coffins, mummy portraits, small statues, and objects of daily life. Nearby, the classical antiquities rooms show Greek vases, Roman sculpture, and bronze figures. The light here is often softer. The rooms are quieter. It is a good place to slow down and look closely at the small things — a painted eye on a coffin lid, a fingerprint left in old clay.

One small object in the sculpture collection is worth a search. It is a little bronze of a horse and rider. Some scholars have connected it with Leonardo da Vinci or his circle. Others are more cautious, and the debate continues. Either way, look at the energy in the horse's body. Leonardo spent years studying horses for a giant monument that he never completed, so the link is easy to understand.

In 2012, the museum was joined with the Hungarian National Gallery, which is up on Castle Hill across the river. The two institutions now work as one organisation. Broadly speaking, this building focuses on international art, while the gallery on Castle Hill tells the story of Hungarian art. If you enjoy your visit here, the other site gives you the second half of the picture.

When you are ready to leave, walk back out between the columns and pause on the steps. In front of you is the curve of the Millennium Monument, with its statues of Hungarian leaders. To one side, the trees of City Park begin. You came here for paintings. But the building, the square, and the park are part of the same idea — a city deciding, more than a century ago, what it wanted to be.

Take one last look up at the pediment before you go. The stone is pale and worn by weather, and pigeons often rest along its edges. Inside, the Raphael, the El Grecos, and the Egyptian coffins are quiet again. Out here, the square is moving and noisy. Both of these worlds were built for you to share, and both are still here as you walk away.