Museums under siege: what will happen after the pandemic? Reflections on cultural overtourism

Have you ever walked into a museum and felt more like you were standing in a queue than contemplating art?

It’s happening more and more often, especially now that the pandemic is over. In a curious paradox, the art venues that were deserted and silent during Covid are now overflowing again… perhaps too much so. Endless queues, tickets that are impossible to find, rooms as crowded as subway cars: this is the new normal for large museums, which are being stormed by mass tourism that, instead of celebrating culture, risks emptying it of meaning.

In this article, I want to share some thoughts on what this post-pandemic invasion of museums really means, what consequences it has for the enjoyment of art, and what alternatives we can imagine for experiencing culture in an authentic and respectful way.

Museums under siege: what happens after the pandemic? Reflections on cultural overtourismmusei milano

From silence to chaos: how the museum experience has changed after Covid

During the pandemic, museums and art galleries went through a period of limbo.

The rooms were empty, there were no visitors, but it was a time of fertile reflection: there was talk of rethinking culture, making it more accessible, digital and inclusive. Today, however, we are witnessing a rush back to “normality”, which has a bitter aftertaste: the return has been explosive, but disorderly.

In 2024, the numbers even exceeded those of 2019. Florence, Venice, Rome and Milan are recording impressive peaks. Some museums sell out months in advance, others have to limit access, but the effect remains the same: too many people, too much rush, too many photos and too little attention.

Cultural overtourism: when art becomes performance

The phenomenon has a name: cultural overtourism.

Art is no longer contemplated, it is consumed.

People queue up to see a famous work, photograph it in a few seconds and move on to the next one.

The museum becomes a circuit of stops, almost a duty to be ticked off the holiday list.

What really remains at the end of that tour? A blurred image of the Mona Lisa between two heads, a Titian seen zigzagging between other people’s shoulders, a Canaletto observed while holding your breath. Yet these masterpieces are made to speak to us, to captivate us, not to be scrolled through like stories.

Museums in the trenches: managing crowds and defending quality

Museum directors and all those involved in the protection of art collections are now at a complex crossroads: on the one hand, the need to cash in after some very tough years; on the other, the defence of the educational and contemplative value of art. Some museums are looking for solutions: evening openings, limited admission, slower and guided experiences.

However, collective reflection is needed: art is not an event to be “done”, it is an encounter and, like any encounter, it needs time, silence and space.

What can we, as art lovers, do?

The good news is that we are not passive spectators. We can choose when to go, perhaps avoiding peak times and days. We can favour lesser-known museums, more intimate spaces and temporary exhibitions.

Have you ever thought, for example, of exploring Venice beyond St. Mark’s Square? I recommend reading:

• Titian’s Pesaro Altarpiece: a Renaissance masterpiece in Venice
• Titian in Venice: a two-day itinerary in Venice to discover the masterpieces of a unique artist.

You will discover that art does not only live in the “big names”. In fact, wonder often hides where others do not look.

Have you ever walked into a museum and felt more like you were queuing than contemplating?

It happens more and more often, especially today, with the pandemic over. In a curious paradox, the art venues that were deserted and silent during Covid are now overflowing again… perhaps too much so. Endless queues, tickets that are impossible to find, rooms as crowded as subway cars: this is the new normal for large museums, stormed by mass tourism that, instead of celebrating culture, risks emptying it of meaning.

In this article, I want to share some thoughts on what this post-pandemic invasion of museums really means, what its consequences are for the enjoyment of art, and what alternatives we can imagine for experiencing culture in an authentic and respectful way.

Museums under siege: what happens after the pandemic? Reflections on cultural overtourism.

Culture needs care, not selfies

The pandemic has taught us that museums are not eternal. They can close, as happened in Milan with Wow Spazio Fumetto. They can be forgotten, neglected. Or – and this is the alternative we must build – they can become living, respected, loved places.

There is no need to rush to “see everything”.

We need to stop and really look, and maybe leave with a question, not just a photo.

How do you experience museums today? Have you also experienced the transition from silence to crowds?

Write to me in the comments, or subscribe to the newsletter: we will continue to discuss these issues soon, with a careful, critical and art-loving eye.

From silence to chaos: how the museum experience has changed after Covid

During the pandemic, museums and art galleries went through a period of limbo.

The rooms were empty, there were no visitors, but reflection was fertile: there was talk of rethinking culture, making it more accessible, digital and inclusive. Today, however, we are witnessing a rush back to “normality”, which has a bitter aftertaste: the return has been explosive but disorderly.

In 2024, the numbers even exceeded those of 2019. Florence, Venice, Rome and Milan are recording impressive peaks. Some museums sell out months in advance, others have to limit access, but the effect remains the same: too many people, too much rush, too many photos and too little attention.

Cultural overtourism: when art becomes performance

The phenomenon has a name: cultural overtourism.

Art is no longer contemplated, it is consumed.

People queue up to see a famous work, photograph it in a few seconds and move on to the next one.

The museum becomes a circuit of stops, almost a duty to be ticked off the holiday list.

What really remains at the end of that tour? A blurred image of the Mona Lisa between two heads, a Titian seen zigzagging between other people’s shoulders, a Canaletto observed while holding your breath. Yet these masterpieces are made to speak to us, to captivate us, not to be scrolled through like stories.

Museums in the trenches: managing crowds and defending quality

Museum directors and all those involved in the protection of art collections are now at a complex crossroads: on the one hand, the need to cash in after some very tough years; on the other, the defence of the educational and contemplative value of art. Some museums are looking for solutions: evening openings, limited admission, slower and guided experiences.

However, collective reflection is needed: art is not an event to be “done”, it is an encounter and, like any encounter, it needs time, silence and space.

What can we, as art lovers, do?

The good news is that we are not passive spectators. We can choose when to go, perhaps avoiding peak times and days. We can favour lesser-known museums, more intimate spaces and temporary exhibitions.

Have you ever thought, for example, of exploring Venice beyond St. Mark’s Square? I recommend reading:

• Titian’s Pesaro Altarpiece: a Renaissance masterpiece in Venice
• Titian in Venice: a two-day itinerary in Venice to discover the masterpieces of a unique artist.

You will discover that art does not only live in the “big names”. In fact, wonder often hides where others do not look.

Have you ever walked into a museum and felt more like you were queuing than contemplating?

It happens more and more often, especially today, with the pandemic over. In a curious paradox, the art venues that were deserted and silent during Covid are now overflowing again… perhaps too much so. Endless queues, tickets that are impossible to find, rooms as crowded as subway cars: this is the new normal for large museums, stormed by mass tourism that, instead of celebrating culture, risks emptying it of meaning.

In this article, I want to share some thoughts on what this post-pandemic invasion of museums really means, what its consequences are for the enjoyment of art, and what alternatives we can imagine for experiencing culture in an authentic and respectful way.

Museums under siege: what happens after the pandemic? Reflections on cultural overtourismmusei milano