I love it.
It blends crisp modernity (all those crisp frames and angles and geometric floor) with a kind of science-fiction vibe. Outside, a stark tree towers above distant dreamlike castles.
Then, at centre front, a crouching angel with waves of energy streaming beneath his wings show how he's just dropped into the room, knees cushioning his swift descent.
It's a shock and awe moment. 'Get away from me!' Mary's hands are saying. 'It's okay!' Gabriel is urging. Of course, this being the Renaissance period, when the Madonna seems always to have been depicted as utterly calm no matter what, her face is no more animated than a doll's. No gasps or screams from this girl. The action is all in their bodies. Swap their robes for something fitted, new and funky and they could be dancers mid-movement in a 21st century nightclub.
Her cloak is deep blue, applied with the period's most expensive paint. It was made from powdered lapis lazuli, hacked from a mine in far-off Afghanistan and hauled all the way to Europe. Only this blue was good enough for the Madonna then and the only possible choice for an artist at the peak of his big-thinking powers.