After much effort, my daughter agreed that we could see the Tintoretto exhibit if we also saw the giant blue rooster.

While I didn’t get to spend as much time admiring the erotic paintings as I might have liked, because I had my little one with me, I loved this strange Last Supper.

Rather than a melancholy Passover feast, it looks more like a raucous meeting of philosophers from one of Plato’s more debauched dialogues.

And here’s the rooster.