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Filarete's tower and Busca's mummy

I actually went to the Castello Sforzesco that day in search of a drawing by Leonardo da Vinci. Not an original, of course, but I vaguely remembered, from when I was a student twenty years ago, that one of the libraries in the Castle possessed a complete set of reproductions of Leonardo's notebooks. And so I walked in, from the main Piazza Castello entrance, through the impressive gateway topped by what is called Torre del Filarete . This is named after the original architect, Antonio Averulino, who was dubbed il Filarete.

I couldn't reach the library that I remembered, closed in behind site fencing. So I thought I'd ask at the Castle bookshop, on the left in the main courtyard. However just opposite the bookshop was a room – part of the Bertarelli prints collection – with an exhibition, so I took a look. It was a beautiful set of etchings by several 20th-century artists, including some attractive scenes of Venice. This show runs until 30th May 2004, and it is open Tues-Sun, 9.00-17.30, admission free.

I then went into the bookshop. Unfortunately my resoluteness completely breaks down in an art bookshop. I started browsing. It was some minutes before I managed to refocus my thoughts on the mission in hand. I asked at the desk, “ Sto cercando un disegno di Leonardo da Vinci...

Leonardo? Segua quel signore lì !” follow that man!, the sales assistant said. I was pleasantly surprised at how quickly I had solved the problem, and followed a person with a badge who was leaving the library, at the head of a group. We went into another courtyard ( Cortile della Rocchetta ), up lots of steps, and then onto the battlements, where the guide explained all about the history of the Castle. I gazed out over Parco Sempione, where Duke Ludovico Sforza went hunting, and where Leonardo had drawn plants while he was in Milan.

More steps, and we were at the top of the Torre del Falconiere . The exhibition was called Leonardo, l'acqua e il Rinascimento , and it consisted of a number of computers using which you could assemble some of Leonardo's inventions on the monitor. Ship-borne cannon, paddle-boats, swing-bridges, a water-powered saw. The group consisted of school-children, who very quickly mastered the video-game-like simulations. Everything was in Italian, but even I managed to assemble the steam-cannon and get it to fire using a mouse. Far more challenging was an area at the centre of the exhibition, where you could try your hand at assembling Leonardo's portable bridge from a pile of wooden rods. This show is open until 30th May 2004, Tues-Sun 9.30-17.30, with visits every 30 minutes leaving from the Bookshop. It costs €3-6.

After a while the guide asked us to follow him back down the stairs. On the way, I saw the most beautiful grand piano through a glass door. That looks interesting, I thought. I must remember to go and have a look.

Back in the Cortile della Rocchetta , I was distracted only briefly by a small construction exhibiting some pieces of carved stone dating from various periods of Milan's history. Then I crossed into the next courtyard, the Corte Ducale . A banner marked a flight of steps leading downwards and so, as I had never visited this part of the Castle, I thought I'd take a quick look before continuing my search for Leonardo's drawing – you thought I'd forgotten it by now, hadn't you? I was surprised to find a group of Renaissance paintings, beautifully exhibited in the cellars. The last time I had seen these pictures, they were on the first floor, but that part of the building is being restored. I particularly liked the two large Canaletto scenes of Venice. I wandered further on and found myself in another room with a fine collection of 20th century art. Named “ Riti di Passaggio ”, this show included Italian artists Boccioni, Morandi, Sironi and others, and works by Klee, Picasso, Braques, Mondrian, and more from the Jucker collection, shown here while the Galleria d'Arte Moderna is being restored. I was particularly struck by Picasso's “ Femme Nue ”, clearly a study for the Demoiselles d'Avignon. I must get on, I thought, and strode into the next room.

This was evidently another recently restored part of the Castle Museum, because the exhibits were superbly arranged, with explanatory panels in Italian and English. I especially liked a story about Carlo Busca's mummy. Nothing to do with parental relationships: I was, of course, in the Ancient Egyptian section. While on a visit to Egypt in about 1850, Carlo Busca – who was actually a Marchese – bought some antiquities, including a mummy in an anthropoid sarcophagus dating from the 15th century B.C. Carlo's son Ludovico inherited the mummy. Since he was very superstitious, he decided to get rid of it at the earliest possible opportunity, and gave it to the Ospedale Maggiore , a hospital in Milan. Here it was used for pathological anatomy demonstrations for many years, until, in 1926, the hospital decided that it had no further use for it. They decided that the proper place of rest for the very ancient body would be the cemetery. So that was where it was sent. However a particularly zealous custodian refused to accept it, because it was not accompanied by a death certificate! So the Ancient Egyptian, along with its sarcophagus, was consigned to the Castle Museum. The resident Egyptologists soon discovered that the Marchese had been the victim of a fraud. For his mummy was none other than an artful assemblage of a 9th century BC lid, a 6th century BC base, and a Greek-Roman mummia.

Putting my Leonardo drawing on hold for just a while longer, I went in search of the aforementioned piano. This took time to track down. Up a staircase, across a dramatic balcony above one of the inner gates, and on into a sequence of halls, exhibiting violins, lutes and other early instruments. I found it in the Sala della Balla . Dancehall, I thought, but I was wrong. I found a sign saying that it was so named because it had been used for a ball game. Amazing, I thought, indoor soccer right back in the 1400s! I admired the harpsichords and pianos. One of these had been used by Verdi when he stayed at the Hotel Milan on Via Manzoni, and a photo showed that he had even scrawled his name on it inside. Graffiti right back in the 1800s!

I reminded myself that I had to get on. I lost my way a few times on the way out, but soon I was back on the ground floor. I couldn't resist just a quick look at the Sala delle Assi , with its ceiling fresco designed by Leonardo da Vinci. A recent addition to this room was a small panel painting, a Virgin and Child, very Leonardesque, but actually by one of his pupils, Francesco Napoletano. Behind the Virgin are two windows, with a tiny lakeside scene on the right, and a landscape on the left, including a Castle. Those two round towers look familiar, I thought, just like this Castle. I glanced at the information sheet provided. It was this castle! But, I thought, Napoletano had got Filarete's tower all wrong. I read on, and discovered that Filarete's original tower had been destroyed in 1521, and rebuilt in 1901 – according to the only documentation remaining, consisting of period drawings and paintings such as this! So I had been hoodwinked even more resoundingly than Busca.

The Castle Museums are open Tues-Sun, 9.00 to 17.30. At present they are still free, though the Municipality announced charges a few months ago (NB admission is now E 3, as from August 2004). The attendants are friendly and helpful. In fact, when I asked one about my Leonardo drawing, he explained that I had got the wrong museum.

“No, no, you should go to the Biblioteca Ambrosiana”. But more about that another time.

© Henry Neuteboom 2004