There are many social media posts that elevate the feeling of getting lost in a museum, enhancing the visit experience with a touch of dreamy escape. However, there are just as many voices opposing this practice, firmly advocating for the need for museums to be places of "absolute contingency" (as Noemi Tarantini of the Etantebellecose channel puts it), capable of fostering a more conscious dialogue with the present.

While acknowledging the relevance of this latter call, is it really correct to outright reject the search for a sense of disorientation? Why not instead try to rehabilitate its meaning, so that it doesn't conflict with the fundamental civic responsibility of cultural spaces?

Getting lost in a museum does not necessarily mean entering a realm of daydreams. Quite the opposite, we believe that the experience of loss is an integral part of a genuine cognitive process: the loss of one’s preconceptions, the collapse of deeply ingrained references to unquestionable values, and the open, astonished availability toward the meaning the place of visit establishes differently each time.

A curatorial path that is not rigidly laid out would allow the visitor to remember that, alongside the organized and preordained consumption of things, there can always be a more yielding and less calculating approach. In other words, every exhibition presents an opportunity to question the very idea of a "path"—a term that somewhat evokes the past, suggesting a route that has already been traveled.

For years, for example, the British Museum in London has adopted a syntactically linear approach for temporary exhibitions and a less coordinated style for its permanent collections, placing a gateway object in each room that invites the observer to pause, letting go of the urgency of a "forced march" to engage in a more intimate conversation.

If we acknowledge that linearity is not an essential element for a collection to tell its story, a question naturally arises: what about those who might experience frustration and disorientation due to a lack of specific guidance?

It is undeniable that we must recognize everyone's right to have a basic trace—through panels, for example, paper maps, or numbered rooms. However, why admit only one solution when the museum is primarily a social space in which attendants, custodians, and other visitors could all contribute to the shared search for meaning?

In short, granting everyone the opportunity to navigate according to their own sensibility could trigger a less solitary understanding of cultural institutions, as well as engage the creativity of curators and organizers to allow distinct experiences to coexist.

Getting lost in a museum could truly prepare us for unexpected encounters, where the works themselves find us—rather than us seeking them at a specific moment. As H. Hesse wrote, "To seek means: to have a purpose. But to find means: to be free, to remain open, to have no purpose."

Here are some practical suggestions to allow visitors to get lost without feeling disoriented:

• Support visitors’ stay – and avoid hastening their passage! For years, SOLUZIONIMUSEALI has emphasized the need to provide cloakrooms, refreshment areas, and seating in each room (not just in front of the "hierarchically" most important works), making the experience overall more comfortable.
• Provide, alongside traditional panels, free interactive supports for further exploration and research, available to those who wish to spend more time with the exhibits. Tools like these would complement the human interaction with staff – who, rather than being just guardians of order, could engage in conversation with visitors and break down any sense of intimidation.
• Favor spacious rooms over an endless sequence of narrow, cramped ones, or reduce the number of works displayed in each room. Also, use distinct doors and accesses: while a series of passages could line the central route, additional entrances could be dedicated to those who wish to move with greater freedom.
• In the case of historic villas or house museums, where interventions on the rooms are not feasible, support the desire for authentic pauses by minimizing the use of barrier ropes, carpets covering original floors, and overly chronological audioguides. In other words, cleverly remove any elements that might create a sense of fleeting intrusion for guests.
• Lastly, adjust and standardize the lighting in each space, favoring natural sources. This would help avoid the contrast between the glare on the artworks and an overall dark atmosphere that could disturb contemplation, while also preventing visitors from reading or seeing themselves clearly.

                                                                                                                                                                         Giorgio Santinelli