A place for stimulating curiosity
By Rachel Spence, Financial Times
Romans crossing the Ponte Garibaldi one evening this autumn must have been perplexed to see a 2,000-strong crowd gathered on the island below them. Although it is usually deserted, that night the 335m strip of land known as the Isola Tiberina played host to the premiere of a new film by Doug Aitken. Winner of the Venice Golden Lion in 1999, the Los Angeles artist cemented a reputation for spectacular "archivideos" in 2006 when his film Sleepwalkers unfolded on the façade of the Museum of Modern Art in New York.
Rather than avail himself of one of Rome's ready-made architectural icons, Aitken built his own structure. Perched on the prow of the island, the pale, open-roofed, geometric building owed more to Bauhaus than Bernini. Aitken described it as "a modern Coliseum". It was certainly a perfect setting for the film, Frontier , which stars the US artist Ed Ruscha rambling through a desolate cinematic dreamscape not dissimilar from his own paintings.
A triumphant fusion of postmodern method and modernist sensibility, Frontier remained on the island until mid-November, when it became part of the permanent collection at Macro, Rome's contemporary art museum. The arrival of such a prestigious project marked a milestone for a city that has been struggling to find a contemporary cultural identity.
If it succeeds, some credit must go to Frontier 's financial backers, Enel Contemporanea, the arts-investment programme of the Italian energy company. The third in Enel's series of public art projects in Rome, Aitken's film is the crowning glory of a programme stamped from the beginning with avant-garde vision.
Enel's commitment notwithstanding, Rome's rapport with contemporary art has been a rollercoaster. In the mid-1990s, the arrival of a leftwing council seemed to herald a new dawn for a city languishing behind London, New York and Paris. International "starchitects" - Renzo Piano, Odile Decq, Richard Meier, Zaha Hadid - were employed to build a new cultural infrastructure. Macro, Italy's first public contemporary art museum, opened in 2002. The arrival of new commercial galleries, including high- profile overseas dealers, suggested the city was finally on track.
Some of the projects - Piano's concert hall, Meier's postmodern Ara Pacis museum - succeeded. Others have been plagued by funding problems. Maxxi, Hadid's €150m project for a state contemporary art museum which was supposed to launch in 2000, will not fully open until next spring. Macro's showcase wing, started by Decq in 2004, is still under construction.
When rightwinger Gianni Alemanno won the mayoral elections in spring 2008, many feared a cultural death knell had sounded. First, the new mayor announced his desire to tear down Meier's museum. Then Macro closed its doors after his council chose not to renew the contract of the director, Danilo Eccher, who was appointed by the previous leftwing administration. Such travails were perhaps inevitable in a country where the state minister for culture, Sandro Bondi, has openly declared that he "doesn't understand contemporary art".
In Rome, however, events defy the doom-mongers. Crucial to the sense of optimism was the appointment this year of Luca Massimo Barbero as director of Macro. Born in Turin, capital of the left- leaning Arte Povera movement, and educated in New York, the 46-year- old former associate curator of the Peggy Guggenheim Collection in Venice has built a reputation for shows with a clever, intimate, unpredictable chemistry.
In May, despite a budget of just €1.2m, Barbero re-opened the museum's main building in the Porta Pia district. His typically whimsical display, with spectacular light-art installations by French artist François Mourellet and German-born Arthur Duff, was a perfectly pitched introduction to a museum which he admits is still "lots of holes with a collection around it". Proof that he had won hearts and minds came in September when a 7,000-strong crowd swarmed the opening party for a show of East Coast artists at Macro Future, the museum's branch in Testaccio.
Nevertheless, as we chat in his office, it is clear that Barbero has no illusions about the challenge he faces. "I don't have a great Warhol, a fantastic Richter," he admits. "But that can be a strength because you never know what you will find. Out of necessity, this place must be a machine for stimulating curiosity."
His current display certainly fits the bill. Although international household names are few and far between, the witty mosaic of contemporary Italians and unsung postwar modernists is incredibly stimulating. As I wander from room to room, I discover a powerful, political installation - palm trees carved with key dates in Italian history like the Piazza Fontana bombing - by the 30-something Roman duo goldiechiari; sublime, fractured watercolours from 46-year-old Alessandro Pessoli; exquisite, lyrical grids from the 1960s abstractionist Bice Lazzari.
Not that the museum lacks international focus. Macro's permanent collection includes work by Tracey Moffatt, Bill Viola and Dan Graham. Next year, the Italian bank Unicredit will sponsor a permanent installation by Dan Buren.
Such private initiatives are essential if the museum is to succeed. If Decq's 10,000 sq m glass-and-cement kingdom opens next year as hoped, the complex will incur running costs of €8m-9m a year.
Rome's cultural assessor, Umberto Croppi, says the council hopes to provide 40 per cent. The shortfall must come from private or corporate patrons. Enel Contemporanea has pledged support, but doesn't want to be drawn on a figure. Plans to turn Macro into a foundation will facilitate private investment. But in the current climate, generosity is not a given.
Right now, Barbero's displays make a virtue out of financial necessity. Yet as I ponder the intriguing connection between photographs of contemporary Albania and the proud, red, sail-like shapes of postwar leftwing abstractionist Giulio Turcato, it is evident that an innovative curatorial imagination is as precious as any donation. Museums in London and New York would do well to take note. www.macro.roma.museum
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