National Gallery of Ancient Art in Barberini Palace — Attraction in Rome

Okay, so, The Palazzo Barberini is also know as the Galleria Nazionale di Arte Antica. It is weird and confusing to be in Rome, ancient Rome, and have them refer to a Baroque Palace full of 16th, 17th and 18th Century art as "Ancient". But I'm not here to complain. I'm also not here to complain about how the third floor, with the 18th Century art, was closed when we were there. Even if that meant missing out on seeing a Boucher. And aren't there period rooms up there too? I remember some from a trip a decade ago to the Barberini. I'm pretty sure one could view some rooms just as the family lived in them in the 1800s or something. Not when I was there this time. Oh I loved those rooms, but I'm not complaining about them either. I'm also not here to complain about their lack of a cafe, especially since their exquisite vending machine (mostly producing vile espresso based drinks) was a more than adequate compensation, if not, perhaps, in the quality of the refreshments, but rather in their sheer entertainment value.

And that concludes my list of things not to complain about.

On the plus side are:

Staircase ecstasy.

Do you like staircases? Well, I never much thought about that either. But the Barberini has two compare-and-contrast staircases by the preeminent architects of their day. Luckily these staircases also express these brilliant artists' stature and prowess. Bernini's is big, very nice, prominent, and you will walk up it to get to the collection. Borromini's is an exquisite work of intimate, mindblowing genius, hidden in a closet, that you probably won't be allowed to set foot in (but you can look).

Ceiling ecstasy.

Oh man, they have some nice ceilings in there! I think most of the fame goes to a da Cortona one? It's in a big empty room. Let's face it, there are a universe of good ceilings in Rome, but this is the only one where I felt like I could get away with lying on the floor. It made all the difference. If I could have laid down in the Sistene Chapel my view of it would have gone from "Well, that was an annoying, but interesting experience." to "Holy mother of god I am now Catholic!"

The Raphael.

My opinion on Raphael was nonplussed. I'd seen some. I had nothing against him. He was like the Renaissance George Harrison to Leonardo's "John" and Michelangelo's "Paul". So, not really of huge interest to me. And then I saw his radiant jewel portrait here and understood I am a Beatles fan. Am I making any sense? This was like "Something" or "While My Guitar Gently Weeps". I'm just saying it's one amazing painting.

The grounds.

It's all kind of a small, walled, little city estate, full of interesting and peaceful gardens, curious surprises, places to poke about, and even entertaining basements (where the toilets are!).

Fun painting collection.

With the level of painting so high in Rome it is tempting to focus on the big names and masterpieces. But there are quite a few galleries, like this one, where the general level is just so high that it's fun to cast the edification and checklists aside and just look at whatever paintings one likes, because, mostly they are beautiful.

One of the greatest paintings ever created.

(Spoiler Alert) This painting is "Judith cuts off Holofernes head" though that may not be its official name. It's just my translation. It's by Caravaggio. If you don't like it you're in the wrong city. It is crowded in this city so please leave and don't take up our valuable space. Might I suggest maybe something more like Dallas?

Should you go to this Palazzo? I can't speak for your tastes and the nature of your...

Ha ha ha! Yes! It would be morally wrong not to.

And so in conclusion I, I, I have nothing...

If one is going to travel over a thousand miles to see a picture then it's wise to check a few things first. The whereabouts of the picture , the opening times of the gallery who have it, is your information correct etc etc.

As I travel round Europe endeavouring to see all the surviving works of Caravaggio (there are about seventy) I'm clocking up a good few miles. Learning that an excellent gallery such as this one has three is pleasing. Not because my quest is a box ticking exercise but because seeing different paintings alongside each other is interesting. And yes, of it is kind of fun to be able to colour three lines of my spreadsheet green in one afternoon is satisfying.

Of the three, St Francis in Meditation (1606) has the best back story. It is on loan from the Capucin Friars who were founded just three years after the painting was made. Nobody is quite sure how or when it came into their custody and for almost four hundred years nobody much cared as it was believed to be a copy of the original which hangs in the Sacristy of Santa Maria del Concezione just a four minute walk away down the road. An not even an autographed copy. In 1970 however, after restoration, the onwe see here was attributed to Caravaggio and since then, most scholars have come to believe it to be the oldest of the four versions (one is now lost).

The attribution of the second painting 'Narcissus' (1597-8) to Caravaggio has been less universally accepted. None of Micelangelo di Merisi's three early biographers mention it and in fact it wasn't until 1913 that Robert Longhi (the leading authority on Caravaggio) found it in a private collection and declared it to be 'Narcissus on a canvas in format by the hand of Micchelangelo Caravaggio' a work mentioned in an export licence granted in 1645.

It is certainly different in style, colouring and technique from other work and yes, it would be exciting to find an unknown Caravaggio while rummaging through someone's loft but wishing things doesn't make them so. Work in 1995-6 on restoring it has made the image much cleaner and clearer and the tide of scholarly opinion is turning. I'd be more inclined to accept the attribution if I found it in a small provincial civic gallery struggling for funds rather than in a gilded, vastly wealthy palace collection that any way already has at least one. But you dear visitior, will pay your money and make your choice.

The information panel next to it talks of illusion and allusion and how the line between what is real and what is not is a very thin one.

Of the third painting 'Judith and Holofernes' (1598-9) I can tell you nothing. The first time I came to see it I discovered on arrival that it was on loan to the Louvre. Learning nothing from this disappointment, when I returned a year or so later to try again, the restless Judith had tired of Paris and taken herself off to Minneapolis.

I've now seen fifty five of the almost seventy extant paintings unquestionably by Caravaggio and if I'm to get a full house I'll need to track her down, either here, or join her on one of her jaunts.

To be fair the lovely folk at the desk here have 'made a note' on the system andhave promised not to charge me for a...

We had a really unfortunate experience here recently. My partner and I were very excited about going and the place looked so beautiful from the outside. We went in and bought tickets (7 euros each, which was reasonable but I felt they could amend the price while over half of the building is closed for renovations). We were given two white tickets for the 'free' area but no actual tickets for the main place. I did question this with my partner as we started up the stairs but assumed because it was quiet they trust that everyone coming will have paid their entry fee.

When we got to the first level and tried to go in the man asked for our tickets. I showed him what we had been given and he explained that we had the wrong tickets. I explained (in as good Italian as I was able) that we had both paid. He sent us back down, so - thinking at this stage it would still be simple - we went back to the main desk and I attempted to explain (in Italian) to the lady that she hadn't given me tickets. She started to look quite annoyed, spoke in fast italian and finally after some persuasion printed out two more 'free' tickets (bearing in mind this was the same lady who had taken our 14 euros about 10 minutes earlier). We saw they said 'free' on them and pointed this out, but she said something else quickly in Italian and basically sent us away. We went up and showed these to the man at the door, at which point he started to get annoyed and told us we needed tickets with 7 euros marked on them. We tried - again - to explain what had happened, but rather than calling down to check with his colleague at the desk he just told us to go downstairs again. At this point I was getting really wound up and flustered with the experience so my partner went in to investigate further. When he got the the desk he realised another Brit (who spoke fluent Italian) was having the EXACT same problem with tickets! We were told to go to speak to the supervisor who said we could go up in the lift with her and so 'bypass' the guard. This was far from ideal - partly because it seemed ridiculously unprofessional but also because I'm quite claustrophobic in lifts but this seemed our only option so we did so. We then spent an edgy hour looking around the - to be clear, often WONDERFUL - art on the first floor, whilst dreading the idea that the door man who'd refused us entry would be around every corner! I've never had such an awkward visit to a gallery in my life.

Frankly, though the building and grounds are glorious, I was appalled by the customer service of the lady on the main desk. I was also completely baffled with why she refused to give us correct tickets. She was well aware we'd paid! So even if she genuinely thought we'd lost the tickets (which we definitely hadn't), why wouldn't she just print us more, or explain to her colleague upstairs. Really, really unimpressed. Our only genuinely bad experience of hospitality in the WHOLE of Italy. This was such a shame as this Palazzo houses some...