Palazzo Reale

I feel like I am constantly reminding people that Milan is so much more than a fashion hub [well it is wonderful for that too] - it has been one of those cities that has drawn more from Peggy Guggenheim's vision than her actual museum in Venice. I'm not talking about the Museo civico di storia naturale... I passed it almost everyday for half a year and didn't care to go in once. The Palazzo Reale right in the middle of the city, pretty much adjacent to the Duomo, is one of the best spaces I've ever been to. They are constantly opening the most fantastic shows. A tribute to Italian futurist Umberto Boccioni just closed, which from curator Laura Mattioli Rossi looks like it did really well. One of the sculptures they showed is pictured here with the artist himself.

My favorite yet has been 'Helmut Newton: Sex & Landscapes', which showed into last summer. The advertisement postcards were soft black with a flash of hot pink block text, complete with a portrait of a masked nude woman holding a cigarette on the reverse. The image of the crowd on opening day is forever imprinted in my mind. It was a mild day in late February, but the piazza, completely filled with people [as Italians have no idea what a line is] and spilling over into the courtyard of the Ufficio del Turismo, upped the temperature by a few degrees. I am still taking notes on how to get a whole city to be interested in an art show. Americans work so hard to get celebrities and investors to come to every exhibit; what is forgotten is the rise of modern art to make it for the people.

I think the show shocked the city a bit. My marketing professor seemed traumatized after having to bear a first date in the company of aisles of naked women. A sales associate at Viktor & Rolf kept telling me how he never thought Helmut Newton could be so violently vulgar. I loved the reaction. I loved that there was actually a reaction. Taking notes on this one, too. I believe they followed in July with a Botero retrospective, and the change is so swift and substantive, you hardly even remember what came before it. I can't think of any way to say it better than Aldo Nove did - Milano si dimentica, si trasforma, per sopravvivere a se stessa.