The canvas is first recorded in the early 1920s in the inventory of Palazzo Bianco as “Lionello Spada (copy),” with no indication of provenance; evidently considered to be of modest value, it was transported in 1929 to the villa Cambiaso owned by the city and remained there until World War II. Severely damaged by bombing, the painting was ignored until 1951 when, in the Milan exhibition Caravaggio e i caravaggeschi curated by Roberto Longhi, another version of the same subject preserved at the Regional Gallery of Messina was exhibited (Caravaggio Exhibition 1951, p. 43), considered a “crude copy” but “fairly faithful” of a lost Caravaggio original. Caterina Marcenaro, then Director of the City's Fine Arts Office, identifies the Lombard master's autograph redaction in the Palazzo Bianco's Ecce Homo, which is, after major conservation work by Pico Cellini (1953-54), published as a Caravaggio original by Longhi himself in the magazine “Paragone” in 1954. Subsequent critics accept the attribution to Merisi with discordant results; and on the one hand, two factors weigh over time on the evaluation of the painting: the non-integrity of the painting's original pictorial ductus, which Cellini describes after war damage as “fried and dried up bark all subbolito...” which he restored to legibility with an integrative restoration conducted by taking the Messina copy as a model; on the other hand, the mystery about the painting's early history and the time of its entry into the museum's collections. Only recently, in fact, has an archival document been found, dated 1908, which reports a purchase proposal made to Orlando Grosso, then specialized secretary of the Fine Arts Office, for works formerly belonging to Giovanni Cabella, including a “Leonello Spada, Cristo mostrato al popolo, good work of painting of the Bolognese school of the seventeenth century preserved in excellent condition,” thus reported by the scholar as the most deserving of entry into the municipal collections (Biblioteca Civica Berio, Fondo Orlando Grosso, Cassetto 21, fascicles 6-7, pp. 91 r-v). The official deed of acquisition has not been traced, but it is probable then that it followed by a few years, and that in any case the work was not registered until after World War I, ending up being inventoried for this reason along with others that had survived in the meantime, in particular the numerous canvases of the legacy of Casa Piola (1913) that also included many 'author copies' (Besta, Priarone in “Superba ognor di belle Imprese andrai” 2020). And this is probably why the “Leonello Spada” seen by Grosso becomes “Spada (copy)” in the museum register -with the same diction as all other copies from great masters- and then, in the second version of the inventory, more clearly a “copy from Spada Leonello.” It does not seem inappropriate to draw attention precisely to the complex vicissitudes of the inventory of the painting, and the subsequent interpretation of the inventory data, since the notation 'copy by Lionello Spada' was then reported by critics for a long time as 'copy by Lionello Spada,' thus reading the inventory data as recording not a work derived from a prototype by Spada, but a work by Spada's hand from an original by Caravaggio (on these aspects Besta, Priarone in c.d.s.). For this reason, too, subsequent diagnostic campaigns on the work (Gregori, Lapucci 1991; Orlando in Caravaggio and the Genoese 2019; Bonavera in Caravaggio and the Genoese 2019) have particularly aimed at looking for signs of early invention of the composition, finding 'pentimenti' that have led to the exclusion of its character as a copy, confirming the nature of a first version of the subject. But it is still legitimate to ask: at the hands of whom? The attribution to Caravaggio has been consolidated over time (Spike 2013), partly because of the historical identification with the picture painted by Merisi for the Roman nobleman Massimo Massimi (Barbiellini Amidei 1987), which, however, according to the documents, would have had larger measurements than the Genoese canvas, although tampered with over time (Di Fabio 1997; Priarone 2011, pp. 104-105 note 54). The hypothesis that this is the same canvas by Merisi that later arrived in Sicily in the retinue of Juan de Lezcano, secretary to the Spanish ambassador to the Holy See, would explain, according to some scholars, the presence of the Messina copy; from here the work would later pass to Naples, Madrid and Genoa (Vannugli 2009). Attributive doubts have continued to accompany the painting, which still does not see unanimous recognition and is back in the public spotlight after the discovery of another autographed version of the same subject, of a different composition, appeared in 2021 in a Madrid auction, which more convincingly could be linked to the documents previously connected to the Genoese painting (Besta, Priarone in Caravaggio and the Genoese 2019). Il dipinto rappresenta Cristo con la corona di spine, a fianco a loro un uomo e Pilato.

The ritual axe represents ‘Tane Mata Ariki’ (‘Tane with a royal face’), the god of craftsmen who, according to tradition, taught the people of Mangaia how to make axes. The flared wooden handle, with a square section base and hollow lower part, is densely engraved and pierced with hourglass, star and ‘K’ geometric motifs. The blade made of black basalt stone is rectangular in shape, with a cut on the shorter side and bevelled longer sides. The blade is attached to a hollow in the handle entirely wrapped with coconut plant fibre, woven to form a decoration. Non-functional ritual axes, with their surfaces completely engraved with geometric and naturalistic motifs, are specific to the island of Mangaia. Before contact with Europeans, axes of this type were equipped with a cylindrical handle and used as insignia of rank. Having fallen into disuse, basalt blades were recovered and in the 19th century the pedestal form was introduced to meet commercial needs. The 19th century constituted a kind of golden age of sculpture for the Cook Islands. Inspired by traditional forms and motifs and aided by metal tools, sculptors produced large quantities of objects to meet the demands of whaling crews.

Nel 1689 il pittore di quadratura Nicolò Codazzi, figlio del più famoso Viviano Codazzi, paesaggista e prospettico di origine lombarda, viene pagato per le architetture dipinte a fresco nella loggia sud del secondo piano nobile di Palazzo Rosso: in questo ambiente le parti di figura, che raccontano il mito di Diana-Luna e del suo amore per il bellissimo Endimione, spettano al genovese Paolo Gerolamo Piola, figlio di Domenico, allora ventitreenne e per questo motivo non presente come voce autonoma nei conti delle spese di cantiere. L’intero progetto decorativo della dimora era in quegli anni diretto proprio da Domenico Piola e anche Codazzi figurava già tra i collaboratori di quest’ultimo per la realizzazione delle “muraglie” – ossia le architetture a trompe l’oeil delle pareti – nella sala dell’Inverno.
Lo spazio della loggia è fantasiosamente trasformato – dalla capacità di mimesis dell’affresco barocco – in un palazzo diroccato, dove elementi architettonici in rovina, intonaci crollati e arcate dirute con mattoni in aggetto sono finti in pittura o concretamente simulati in rilievo grazie a inserti in stucco: in questo scenario di pura illusione è ambientata la favola d’amore della dea della Luna che, secondo il mito, sarebbe scesa ogni notte protetta dalle tenebre a baciare il suo amato pastore Endimione, reso immortale da Giove ma condannato a un sonno eterno.
Questa sala era stata in origine concepita come “galleria” chiusa e aveva arcate più basse, ornate da lunette affrescate e finestre dai decori rocaille; l’aspetto di loggia aperta sulla città che ha oggi questo ambiente, dal quale si gode un bellissimo panorama sul centro medioevale e sul mare, data infatti al restauro degli anni cinquanta del secolo scorso, quando si ritenne erroneamente non autentico, in un palazzo del Seicento, un ambiente il cui gusto anticipava già così manifestamente il Settecento.
La favola di Diana-Luna viene a corrispondere – spazialmente e simbolicamente – a quella di Apollo-Sole del salone centrale, inserendosi nel generale progetto di cosmologia celebrativa della casata Brignole - Sale; l’invenzione dell’architettura in rovina, invece, può essere credibilmente messa in rapporto con il ricordo dell’aspetto che Genova dovette avere dopo il tragico bombardamento da parte della flotta francese nel 1684, quando la città, cannoneggiata per undici giorni, rimase ferma nel proposito di difendere a tutti i costi la propria libertà.

 

The exhibition is dedicated to the “Turbonave” Andrea Doria, its construction, its history, the shipwreck of July 26, 1956 and the discussion that followed on the responsibilities of the collision. Through reconstructions of the ship's environments and a part of the promenade deck (inclined at 30°), visitors are able to follow the escape routes that passengers and crew had to take to escape the tragedy. The exhibit includes stories, photos and interviews and a suggestive reconstruction of the dynamics of the accident that caused the shipwreck.