When I was a child, Signore Albizzi lived, along with the rest of the European collection, in the upper gallery of the Mies building. Remembering the museum in those days, I always think of him—imposing and stern, eyebrow cocked, and yet with such gentle hands. I think of the astonishing change he’s witnessed, not only in his decades at the MFAH, but all the way back to his origination in Venice in 1525—all the upheavals and wars, crossing an ocean, and here he is, hand still outstretched 500 years on, as if to say, “Come along. Let's go.”

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