This is a great place to spend an hour or two.


I've said this many times, so it's far from a new thought, but galleries make me see things differently...

First up, an extraordinary project by Giulio Manfredi. In 2009, the Italian Ministry of Culture asked Manfredi to work on a commission commemorating the restoration of Leonardo da Vinci's The Last Supper. The work that resulted -- "L'oro invisible" -- created a jewelled piece for each of the figures in the painting. What an amazing idea... The exhibition consists of the design sketches (little masterpieces in their own right), the artworks themselves, some biography, and a voile version of the painting. Stunning...







I've already talked about the Nagasaki churches exhibition.

The museum also holds the Suma Collection, named after Suma Yakichiro, who had a colourful career, and acquired the items while serving as a diplomat in Spain during the 1940s. The Spanish art featured here ranges from the medieval to the contemporary, and includes some very noteworthy pieces (in fact, I've seen more Picassos here in Japan than I've seen in many a long year...).

We also saw The Language of Things, by Manuel Franquelo. I'm always fascinated by the power of the ordinary, and this project celebrates the transformational qualities of mundane objects.

Bruno Latour: "Those broken machines, odd books, crumpled magazines, plugs, balls suspended in mid air, rosaries and even a stuffed bird on top of some nondescript boxes appear mundane enough. Although they might have been assembled haphazardly their arrangement has become necessary. Why? Because they are not placed as a mere context for virtuosity, as if the artist -- the photographer, the engraver, the printer -- was doing all the talking. They have become necessary because, whatever the odd reasons that have brought them together in the studio, they are offering something else than their shape, a substance so rare in art that the viewer does not know what to call it: texture might be a word. We are used to listen to the superficial language of things -- that is shape -- but how do we learn to slowly become sensitive to what they have to say in the language of texture? Shape is the obvious; texture is the invisible."

No photos from any of these exhibits (not allowed). But downstairs was an extensive exhibition of school students' art. Among which, this adorable cat: