Recently renovated, with more plans for improvement so you'll actually have a good time with the art.

Until recently, as in April 2016, the museum was run with a very 1800s curatorial mindset. We're talking asylum-chic. Stark white walls with weak lighting emulating conditions under which Renaissance painters would have created most of the museum's collection. For real, there weren't even labels on the paintings. And one of its most famous works was hung less than two feet off the ground so viewers had to kneel to see it, as if that would be fun. The only cool thing about the place (for serious art history nerds) was the glass walled room where you could watch conservationists go about their work, putting a Krispy Kreme spin on poking Q-tips at fine art. Now, with direction from an actual human being with foresight and ambition, the museum is replete with staged lighting and labels so you won't need a PhD to enjoy the art.

The Brera was originally used as a Jesuit college, but re-imagined in the mid-1700s as an art space because of a personal request from Empress Maria Theresa of the Holy Roman Empire. The Brera holds a unique position among Italy's most important museums. Where most opened as private collections and were eventually donated to the public, the Brera's history was more bureaucratic, offering the solution to a problem close to Napoleon's heart. The French imperial army was conquering Europe like they invented it. As such, Napoleon was gathering up loads of war spoils (read: other people's art) without the proper storage space. Luckily, he'd recently promoted himself to President of Italy and the Brera had room to spare. Hey, presto, the Brera was seeded with its first collection of uh-mazing art.