Brera unfolds at Palazzo Citterio, a dream’s arrival and departure

In Milan, after 52 years of agonizing anticipation, Palazzo Citterio finally reopens its doors; but the Grande Brera still lies a few steps away.

di Guido Furbesco

It’s like a ‘Miracle in Milan’. The title of Vittorio De Sica’s iconic film – the one with the actors soaring above Piazza del Duomo on brooms in 1951, remember? – is perfect for introducing this new film that has just arrived – thanks, Sant’Ambrogio – on our screens: a colossal production directed by Angelo Crespi, with the help of Chiara Rostagno, the collaboration of Mario Cucinella, and the tireless and meticulous support of the entire team, technicians, and workers who contributed to the final push of this long-standing and epic story. Crespi, a man who shuns rhetoric and seeks to soften the intensity of the word ‘epochal’ associated with the news of Palazzo Citterio’s opening, stated, ‘This is undoubtedly a historic moment in our lives.’ The general manager’s understated tone hinted at the ‘tremendous efforts that converged to make this happen right now, when no one else believed it was possible,’ and also touched on the Zeitgeist, the spirit of the times.

Tempietto, Donation of the Salone del Mobile, Milan, Palazzo Citterio, Project by MCA – Mario Cucinella Architects, Ph: Walter Vecchio.

Now, leaving aside the Hegel and Tolstoy quotes that filled the official presentations, one thing is crystal clear: it’s been a long, long time since the ‘Grande Brera’ first entered the conversation. Just imagine: there was no color television when, in 1972, this Fürstenberg-born building was acquired by the State (driven by the then visionary director Franco Russoli) to become a showcase for the 20th century, complementing the works from centuries past already on display for visitors at the Pinacoteca just two hundred meters away. A modern and ambitious project that, when rewinding the tape of events, reveals a bumpy and nerve-racking journey, dotted with good intentions, aborted impulses, bureaucratic obstacles, false starts, controversies, waste, and construction sites that vanished into thin air (or others that sadly yielded disappointing results, alas). Various and assorted hypotheses have also enveloped the entire Braidense complex, which has been completely redesigned through the ventilated relocation of the Academy’s classrooms, the glazed roof of the Courtyard of Honor – with the statue of Napoleon sheltered from the elements – and even a suspended walkway over the lush Botanical Garden, connecting the different venues. And shall we delve into the richness of the content? Two truly illustrious victims of this chaos: the Jucker and Mattioli art collections, two of the four private collections initially destined for Palazzo Citterio, now showcased at the Museo del Novecento, a testament to the protracted delays.

Tempietto, Donation of the Salone del Mobile, Milan, Palazzo Citterio, Project by MCA – Mario Cucinella Architects, Ph: Walter Vecchio.

Those who step into the new threshold – at numbers 12 and 14 of Via Brera – will be treated to a feast of masterpieces, a gift from the Jesi spouses – who once called these rooms their home – and the Vitali spouses, among the most illustrious ‘connoisseurs of beauty’ in the local scene, with works by Carrà, Boccioni, De Pisis, Modigliani, and Sironi, among others. The two exceptional collections, the first one being the most remarkable, are showcased on the main floor. One side faces the bustling street, where tourists and passers-by wander, while the other overlooks the tranquil inner garden. The grand 19th-century hall, number 40, connects these two spaces, following a logical sequence from the original house. The works on display span a chronological arc that culminates in 1861. The regret lingers for what could have been, but alas, it’s not. But let’s not dwell on that, there’s more to be discovered. In describing his design project, the architect Cucinella shared his thoughts, ‘In the presence of this building’s enchantment, it’s as if the 52 years of anticipation have vanished into thin air.’ It’s time to let go of the past and embrace the future. A commendable goal, but one that’s not easy to achieve. Finally stepping into these spaces and witnessing these paintings is a moment of pride and jubilation for all those who cherish art, culture, and the soul of Milan (and beyond). However, the overall feeling is one of estrangement. We find ourselves in an eighteenth-century noble residence, nestled in the historic heart of the city, a building that is far from monumental. The rooms are what they are, and transforming them into an effective exhibition stage was a daunting task, requiring a delicate balance between respecting the original layout and distribution of the rooms. As if the initial conditions weren’t already challenging, everything that has transpired over the past half-century and change has come to pass. The various restorations and interventions (‘intrusions’, as they are often called) that have overlapped over time have resulted in a final product that lacks the essential elements of unity, coherence, and a unified breath. The building has undergone a whirlwind of substantial changes and shifts in style, leaving a trail of cold metal staircases that now tower over the entire structure. The 19th-century hall exudes a dense atmosphere, while the domestic spaces housing the artifacts boast new and delicate pastel shades. The industrial mood of the second floor, reserved for temporary exhibitions, is dominated by exposed systems, and the brutalist concrete of the hypogeum, designed by James Sterling, adds a touch of drama. In the courtyard, a quaint wooden temple invites visitors to take a seat and linger. This ‘fluidity’ between the inside and outside, the public and private, is the new mantra, and the Citterian courtyard pays tribute to this concept by becoming a space for free expression, not just for visitors, along a path that Crespi tells us should extend all the way to Via Gabba.

Tempietto, Donation of the Salone del Mobile, Milan, Palazzo Citterio, Project by MCA – Mario Cucinella Architects, Ph: Walter Vecchio.

The Pinacoteca ‘una e bina’ is a place of choice, where you can take it or leave it. We gladly take it, but we also invite everyone to take a closer look: today is a coveted destination, yet it’s also a fresh start (‘let’s look ahead,’ as Cucinella used to say) that should engage all the players on the field. The mission and commitment now revolve around the ultimate meaning of the name coined by Russoli, proudly worn as a ‘hat’ by the institutions under Crespi’s command, namely the Pinacoteca, Palazzo Citterio, and Braidense National Library. As he explained last September, the vision is for ‘Grande Brera’ to serve as a mother brand, not only for the institutions I have the honor of leading, but also for the Academy, the Astronomical Observatory, the Botanical Garden, the Lombard Institute Academy of Sciences and Letters, the Ricordi Archive, and the Lombard Historical Society, all of which call this monumental building home. My vision is to consistently link ‘Grande Brera / Milan’ with its logo, thereby amplifying the visitor’s perception of a unified complex. Between ‘perception’ and ‘reality’ lies the vast ocean, one might say; but the dream of a Brera so ‘grand’, a seamless journey of discovery, is a truly breathtaking vision… Let’s not wait another 52 years to make it a reality.