Palazzo Silvestri-Rivaldi is a jewel set between the Imperial Forum and the Colosseum, with a very rich history, from the sixteenth century, when it was built by Paul III Farnese, to the second half of the twentieth century, when, having become a convent, it was occupied during the season of struggles of the 1970s, becoming a concert venue for an extraordinary season of independent music. A history, however, after the end of the occupation, is a history of degradation and abandonment. Until last summer, when MiBACT decided to allocate more than 35 million to restore the building. A refurbishment, but to do what with it? At first, it seemed it was destined to house the headquarters of the disputed Heritage School, and the expensive Foundation that runs it. A few months later, however, the minister gave it as certain that it would become the headquarters of the Torlonia Museum, the museum that is supposed to house the six hundred statues of the Torlonia collection, “the most important private collection of ancient sculpture existing in the world,” using the words of Federico Zeri. A centrally located public building for a private museum? Let’s take a step back.
Palazzo Silvestri-Rivaldi in a 1982 photo |
The exhibition Torlonia: collecting masterpieces has recently reopened at Villa Caffarelli after a brief interlude in October: ninety-two statues from the Torlonia collection will remain on public view until June 29. These are statues returning to view after decades. It was in the 1970s that a dispute began that jeopardized the preservation of the statues, prevented their enjoyment, and ends, in a way, with the current exhibition. A tug-of-war between the state and the Torlonia family, we may say, recounted by several newspapers (but not, as already noted by others, in the exhibition catalog). In short: the Torlonia Museum that displayed the collection at Palazzo Giustiniani as early as the end of the nineteenth century becomes increasingly difficult to visit, no catalog is published from 1881 onward, until, with the events related to World War II, it effectively closes. Slowly the general public loses memory and information about the collection, until, in 1969, Alessandro Torlonia has it cleared out of the quarters where it was placed to obtain squatter apartments. The statues are piled up in basements. But journalist Antonio Cederna, founder of Italia Nostra, sheds light on the affair, managing to ascertain the indecent state the collection was in.
From there began a series of judicial events, summarized as follows by Maria Serna Palieri in L’Unità in 2003: “In January of ’77 a magistrate, Albamonte, woke up and seized the building, the rents and, on the complaint of the Archaeological Superintendency, the collection. But in ’78 came the statute of limitations for the building crime and an amnesty for the crime against the historical-artistic heritage. But the Torlonia was not content: he wanted his lost honor, that is, full acquittal. In ’79 the Supreme Court rejected the request, in a ruling that well described his Taliban-like neglect of works ”crammed unbelievably and leaning against each other, destined for certain death from the cultural point of view,“ in ”cramped, inadequate, dangerous premises.“ Writing about it, among art historians, was only Giulio Carlo Argan. The Ministry sent in inspection years later, in 82, a commission of archaeologists, who testified to the crazy situation, but added (and we are in the paradox) an estimate of the amount to be paid, if the state wanted to save the collection: some tens of billions of liras of the time, to be paid to the author of the destruction. Italia Nostra took the field, with a campaign based on the principle that that collection should have gone to the State, instead, for free: because the prince, in fact, according to the laws, would have had to pay enormous penalties for the damage he had done.”
From the 1980s onward, the state and the Torlonia family have not spoken to each other, and there has been no shortage of attempts, never successful, to enshrine in law the transfer of the collection to the state, or vague ambitions to sell it abroad (proven are the contacts with the Getty Museum). So how did we arrive at this exhibition, and the ventilated museum at Palazzo Rivaldi?
Giovanni Battista Piranesi, View of the Villa Albani from the Views of Rome published in Paris between 1835 and 1839 at Firmin Didot Frères (1748-1774; engraving, 54.4 x 78.7 cm) |
A sudden change occurs with the arrival at the ministry of Dario Franceschini. A negotiation begins, with the mediation of Gino Famiglietti and Alessandro Torlonia’s grandson, Alessandro Poma. Alessandro Torlonia in 2014 creates a Foundation that should take care of the management of the collection. The Torlonia Foundation, according to their website, "was established at the behest of Prince Alessandro Torlonia, with the aim of preserving and promoting the Torlonia Collection and Villa Albani Torlonia ’cultural legacy of the Family for humanity’ to be handed down to future generations." According to theagreement with the state, signed in 2016, the Torlonia Foundation committed to display part of the collection in a temporary exhibition in 2017 and then in a public building in Rome. There are delays, due to the death of Alessandro Torlonia and tribulations regarding the inheritance, but in 2020 the exhibition sees the light of day.
What changes from 2014 onward is in fact the state’s attitude toward the collection. In fact, there is no longer any talk of the collection passing into public hands. At the presentation of the exhibition on October 18, 2019, Minister Franceschini announced that “very authoritative requests are arriving from all over the world” to display the exhibition after its closure, while the state “is in favor of making available its own property in which the sculptures, which will remain the property of Torlonia, will be exhibited permanently.” From the website of the Capitoline Museums, it is easy to understand the characteristics of the exhibition, which enabled the agreement: "The exhibition is the result of an agreement of the Ministry of Cultural Heritage and Activities and Tourism with the Torlonia Foundation and specifically, for the Ministry, of the General Directorate of Archaeology, Fine Arts and Landscape with the Special Superintendence of Rome. The scientific project for the study and enhancement of the collection is by Salvatore Settis, curator of the exhibition with Carlo Gasparri. Electa, publisher of the catalog, also handles the organization and promotion of the exhibition. The exhibition design is by David Chipperfield Architects Milan, in the renovated rooms of the new space of the Capitoline Museums in Villa Caffarelli, brought back to life thanks to the commitment and project of the Superintendency of Roma Capitale. The Torlonia Foundation restored the selected marbles with the contribution of Bvlgari, which is also the main sponsor of the exhibition." The state, therefore, provides and adapts the premises at its own expense; Electa, a private company, organizes the exhibition and publishes the catalog (which will sell a lot, being the first catalog of the collection since 1881); Bulgari pays for the restorations. Electa, a private company, and Zètema, a private company with public participation, take care of the organization and income from the ticketing and services of the exhibition. The state, since it is a private collection, does not even take rights on the use of the images published in the catalog. And then, as we said, it will allow this exhibition, which is private, to be relaunched abroad.
Setting up of the exhibition of the Torlonia collection at Villa Caffarelli. Ph. Credit Oliver Astrologo |
This is a radical paradigm shift from Antonio Cederna. And it does not seem that this strange imbalance of expenses and earnings is limited to the current exhibition, because as seen Dario Franceschini has already talked about granting a public building for the display of the collection. The very central Palazzo Silvestri-Rivaldi is being talked about. Will the museum be public? Will the collection be public? Or, as seems clearly to transpire from the ministerial statements, will a public building, restored with 35 million in public funds, be made available to display a private collection, guaranteeing ample income for the owners, despite the treatment of the statues over the past 50 years?
There was a time, not so long ago, when noble families, in order to change their image in the eyes of authority and public opinion, donated their collections. Thus were born the largest and most important museums in Italy. That time seems to be over, so let us enjoy the wonder of the first 92 marbles of the Torlonia collection on public display, but without ceasing to wonder why, in addition to forgiveness for what happened, the Ministry also guaranteed revenue, ownership of the collection, a public building restored at public expense, and a world tour. Perhaps this is too much, even in these times.
Warning: the translation into English of the original Italian article was created using automatic tools. We undertake to review all articles, but we do not guarantee the total absence of inaccuracies in the translation due to the program. You can find the original by clicking on the ITA button. If you find any mistake,please contact us.