Four thousand one hundred works in twelve rooms, every one of them hung on the same line, 152 centimetres from the floor. Tuesday to Sunday, 10.00 to 18.00. Thursday until nine.
The building is one long enfilade. Twelve rooms, read in order, 1,200 years from the apse fragment to the last canvas bought in March. This is what is open as of this morning.
Six works, printed here at something close to their real relative size. The small one is small. Come and stand in front of it.
The varnish on Branca’s Ritratto di donna in cuffia had gone the colour of weak tea. Our conservator took it off a square centimetre at a time with cotton and isopropanol, stopping twice because the glaze underneath was moving. It went back on the wall in Sala III on 3 March, in the same position, at the same height.
One email on the first Monday of the month: what came off the wall, what went on, and which rooms are shut. No campaigns, no countdowns.