I've just visited a very enjoyable exhibition in Munich devoted to the early Leonardo Madonna in the Alte Pinakothek. Part of the pleasure comes from its gratifyingly small scale.
I noticed something similar with the Leonardo exhibition I've curated at the Victoria and Albert Museum. There are some 65 drawings, with a suite of related animations. When I've been there during public opening hours, I've noticed that it's the quietest show I've ever been in.
Watching how people were looking (once they were able to get to each drawing in the inevitable crush), they were staring intensively and not rushing on. They were reading the labels and striving to make sense of what are often difficult and complex sheets containing the fertile fruits of Leonardo's diverse thinking. All the drawings are in one room, and you can see that the exhibition is manageable.
If you enter an exhibition crammed full of objects, spanning an apparently indefinite number of rooms, there is immediately a sense that you have to keep moving, or you won't get round. Being able to see exactly what's there, and being reassured that it's not an endurance test, induces a different mindset. An hour or two will do the job - and do it thoroughly. More is learnt; more is remembered.
The Munich show occupies three not very large rooms. The first is largely introductory. The second contains the prized Madonna, beautifully lit in a way that makes it seem inert in its normal setting. It is accompanied by some judiciously chosen early drawings and a series of Madonna and Child compositions by Verrocchio and his circle. The Leonardo Madonna is very much a Verrocchio & Co painting, though full of innovatory striving.
The third room deals with the scientific analysis, letting us see the "secrets" of the painter's techniques. We can understand why some of the paint surface is wrinkled and puckered. The young Leonardo was using so much oil in his translucent glazes - to obtain his legendary "sfumato" - that he's run into technical trouble. We also notice in the underdrawing that he's used two roundels in the rear wall of the room to indulge in geometrical "games" that could never have played a useful role in the final picture.
The X-rays, infrared reflectograms and paint cross-sections need scrutinising carefully. And that is what the visitors are doing. They know that it's interesting and they know they have time.
I'm involved in big shows as well, like Spectacular Bodies at the Hayward Gallery in 2000. Large accumulations of items do a particular kind of job. But we need to understand how the visitor experience is a radically different kind of thing from that in a small show.
