Rome and the barbarians

Whatever you do, do not go to see the overhyped show on “Rome and the Barbarians”, now, until July, at Palazzo Grassi, Venice.

I am no expert in these matters and therefore cannot know whether the exhibits assembled in the show are incredibly rare and precious; a few perhaps are – the crown of Suetilla, King of the Visigoths perhaps is, the Massimo catafalque definitely is; but from the aesthetic perspective, nearly all are utter junk. Literally: many items are just that: there seems to be an incredible number of sewing needles and rusted spear points. More than half the show is made up of fibulae – outsize decorative safety pins – which is great if the show were entitled “Roman and Barbarian fibulae III-V century A.D.” and cost 3 euro, not 15.

The display leaves a lot to be desired. First, for reasons unknown, the interior of palazzo Grassi, the main object of interest which sent me to the show, has for the purpose of this show been entirely laid with grey lining so as to hide all internal decoration from the likes of me who would see the interior without paying for it specifically. (One is relieved the organizers had insufficient funds to cover, in the same grey paneling, the delicious ceilings. Thank you, God. Thank you. Thank you).

Second, the labeling of the items is negligent: about half are unaccounted for; those which have labels are labeled in a haphazard order which makes it laborious in the extreme to figure out which label applies to which item. The labels are in any case insufficient: they give no explanation. “Phalarae”, says one. “2^nd century. So-and-so provincial museum, Germany.” There is not a word on what Phalarae are; or of how they were found or when, for example. In most instances, not a word of where and when these objects may have been made, either. At first I assumed this was intentional negligence, intended to make you buy the 5 euro audio guide, but no, less than one in four items has an audio explanation. So the explanations are lacking by design for no reason at all.

Further, often the labels are wrong: “gold and stones” says one description where “enamel on gold” would have been more correct.

The labels are bilingual, Italian and English, but the English is a joke. Umbone, says one Italian label. Umbone, says the English. Er – say what?!

The educational value of the show is negligible: the large panels and computer screens tell history we all know from 6^th grade.

And the Italian setting clinches the feeling of being ripped off: the cloak room accepts bags for free but charges two euro for every coat, including the windbreaker you just put in your bag before handing it in. “I saw you put it in”, said the cloakroom attendant with the sharp voice of the policeman who had just caught me shoplifting. “Now I have to charge you. And no, you cannot go out now to put it in out of my eyesight. Your ticket has already been cancelled. Look, what would happen if everybody would put their jacket in their bag, eh?” Er… I guess the museum would – lose two euros? How low the Italian state has fallen: the Italians museums now are reduced to laughable catch 23 maneuvers to make extra 2 euros. Come on, just charge 2 euro more for the ticket, and be big and take the jackets at no fee, will you?

By the way, I do not recommend you buy the catalogue, either. The illustrations give you no more explanations of the items pictured than the labels in the museum; and, in addition, they fail to indicate sizes of items pictured so you do not know if what you are looking at is life-sized or microscopic.

Give this show wide birth: it is a complete waste of your time and money.