Xanten, Museum

One of the most beautiful experiences I ever had in a museum was in the Galleria Doria Pamphilj in Rome, when I saw Velasquez’ painting of pope Innocent X. There was a window in the roof, with a sheet to protect the painting from the sun, but when a cloud moved across the sky, the light in the room changed. It was as if the painting came to life.

I write this because many museums have, in the past, succeeded admirably in removing life from their objects. Shown in low key light, the artifacts look very mysterious, beautiful, and dead. My worst experience was “L’Or des Thraces” at the Musée Jacquemart-André (Paris), which offered no explanatory signs – after all, there was no light in those rooms – and instead gave its visitors small, well-written textbooks to read. So, everybody remained standing in front of the displays, trying to use the light in order to read.

The beauty of darkness is a museological cul-de-sac. People