Curation Done Right
Looking up, down, and all around, I saw so many frescos. Nestled up in the ceiling, set between two pillars, encapsulating a domed niche, they were practically everywhere, each waiting to be discovered. The still air in the vaulted rooms was cool and the crowd I had seen earlier amassing at the door to the museum was all but seemingly absent. They must have all gone to a different wing. Alone, I sat on a bench gazing up at the…