Hieronymus Bosch needs little introduction in the world of art. One day, I’ll write out the story of how, as a fifth grader, I traveled to the Prado with my family and saw his strangely fanciful work that first put the idea in my head that art could be a LOT of different things and I could be an artist if I wanted to. However, in a post Mardi Gras New Orleans (okay, the Lenten season) the piece I really want to write about is “The Haywain”. It shows us a world at once foreign in its primitive setting and yet all too familiar in its sentiments and frantic revelry. 
Dated around 1510-16 the Haywain is a triptych with an overall moral warning. It’s seems I’ve made up in my head its attribution to the carnival season, as I can find no evidence of anyone else making this claim though I feel I’ve heard it in the past. Flanked on the sides of the triptych is a vision of the expulsion from the Garden of Eden, and a fiery visage of hell. When closed, the triptych shows us a motif seen in other works by Bosch referred to as The Wayfarer – a lone traveler making his way along a road surrounded by treachery, temptation, and crime. 
We’re not here to dwell on their content, however, but rather to focus on the central panel. Perched between the divine and the diabolical is an image of – what exactly? 
The sight is a busy one, filled with people and activity all surrounding a comically large cart overflowing with hay (a metaphor for money), and a distressed Christ gazing down from above – seemingly throwing his hands in the air in exasperation at the whole scene. The Prado offers online visitors an amazing reproduction with incredible detail here. The wagon of hay itself could be a reference to pre-Lenten floats and parades that are popular in the Christian world. Upon the very top are several figures – an angel kneeling and sharing a knowing glance with Jesus, a demon playing an instrument of some kind, lovers embracing in a bush, musicians pouring over a score, and a figure hidden in the bush watching. They are seemingly oblivious to the world. 
Underneath is bedlam, people grab at the hay (a metaphor for money), they are crushed under the wheels of a cart, demons seem to be dragging it to hell while nobles follow behind. In the foreground – a multitude of sins. Those who analyze art for a living can give a better breakdown of the activity than I can, but to me the image evokes an insight into New Orleans and it’s Mardi Gras festivities. To me, this panel is a perfect summation for the pageantry, celebration, risk, and ridiculousness that is the Mardi Gras season. The good, bad, and everything in between wrapped into one ridiculous cart of hay. There’s an element of privilege to Mardi Gras – living along parade routes or affording the time to camp out a spot. Also, it’s who you know. It’s a collection of clubs that to an outsider can seem exclusive while at the same time being an excuse for outsiders to enter the city and behave badly. It’s a paradox leading up to Lent that can vex and delight at the same time. But there always seems to be a pressure over the entire city to celebrate. 
There’s also the chaos of the “throw”. You may have no desire for plastic junk and shiny beads, but once you’re in a crowd you will inexplicably find yourself raising up your arms to catch whatever is coming your way. Totally useless stuff that can not produce happiness for you, but in an infectious moment it does. 
And while Bosch’s paintings are typically interpreted as sternly disapproving of the behaviors of mankind, I can’t help but feel he was also having a laugh at our expense. Every demon rendered seems to be where Bosch’s creativity really comes alive. The excitement of knife about to be thrust, absolute chaos and crime, are where his mastery lives
