The Crawford M. Art Gallery is one of the city’s finest prizes. I can’t tell you how many exhibitions have gone through the building since I’ve lived here, but I can probably tell you what exhibitions coincided with points of personal significance.
Built on the funding of Willy Horatio Crawford, it’s a gorgeous piece of architecture. One of the permanent arrangements includes a hoard of classical casts, scattered hopelessly inside the portico. Along with David and Venus and Collins are the busts of men of varying roles; I’ve stolen them for reference. Only ever used one though.