Let me start with the thing that spares you a disappointment, because it is the reason many people come here.
The Vitruvian Man is not on display. Leonardo’s drawing belongs to the Gallerie dell’Accademia, but the museum states on its own catalogue page, in capitals, that the work is not exhibited for reasons of protection and conservation. It is a sheet of paper five hundred years old: light consumes it, and it is shown only on rare and announced occasions. If that is why you are coming, check the museum’s site first.
That said, the Accademia remains the place in the world where Venetian painting becomes intelligible, because it is five centuries lined up in one building. Here are the seven works that make the twenty euros worth spending.
1. Veronese’s Feast in the House of Levi, and the trial
It is the largest picture in the room and it has the best story in the museum.
Veronese painted it for the refectory of the Dominicans at Santi Giovanni e Paolo, and it was not a Feast: it was a Last Supper. On 18 July 1573 the painter was summoned before the tribunal of the Holy Office and asked to account for what he had put around Christ. Dwarfs, buffoons, a servant with a bleeding nose, armed German soldiers, and dogs. Why, they asked him, in a Last Supper.
Veronese’s reply survives in the record and is one of the earliest claims of artistic liberty we have: painters take the same licences as poets and madmen, and the extra figures are there to fill the space of the picture.
He was ordered to correct the work at his own expense within three months. He did not touch a centimetre of paint: he changed the title. From Last Supper to Feast in the House of Levi, an episode in the Gospel of Luke in which Christ eats at the house of a tax collector, among people of every kind. Under the new title, all those characters became legitimate.
When you look at it, find the dog in the foreground at the centre. It is one of the accused.
2. Giorgione’s Tempest
A small picture, in front of which people stand longer than anywhere else.
On the left a young man with a staff. On the right a half-naked woman nursing a child, sitting on the ground. Between them a river, a bridge, a town, and above it all a bolt of lightning splitting a green sky.
What does it represent? Nobody knows. Dozens of interpretations have been proposed, mythological, biblical, allegorical, and none holds up against every detail. X-rays have shown that in the young man’s place there was originally another nude female figure stepping into the water: Giorgione changed his mind as he worked, which makes any reading based on the subjects still more fragile.
It is the first European painting in which the landscape is not a backdrop but the protagonist, and the figures seem to have turned up there by chance. Look at it knowing that the riddle is probably the point, not a problem to be solved.
3. Tintoretto’s Miracle of the Slave
Painted in 1548 for the Scuola Grande di San Marco, it is the work that made Tintoretto famous at thirty.
St Mark plunges head first from above, in the most reckless foreshortening Venetian painting had yet attempted, to save a slave condemned to be blinded and maimed. The instruments of torture break of their own accord and the executioner holds them up to the judge in disbelief.
What matters technically is the light: it does not illuminate the scene evenly but picks out bodies one by one, like a spotlight. It is the same instrument Tintoretto would use on an enormous scale in the Paradise at the Doge’s Palace, forty years later.
4. Giovanni Bellini’s San Giobbe Altarpiece
A Madonna enthroned with saints, painted around 1487 for the church of San Giobbe.
Bellini does something that goes unnoticed today because it has become normal: he paints a fictive architecture that continued the real architecture of the church the altarpiece stood in, with the same light that came through the real windows. Whoever walked in did not see a hanging picture, they saw a chapel extending into the wall.
Brought into the museum, the altarpiece has lost half its effect, and that is an honest thing to know: many works in here are orphans of the place they were designed for. How many of the works you are about to see are in that condition? In this building, a great many.
5. Bosch’s Triptych of the Hermits
It is the museum’s surprise, and almost nobody expects it in Venice.
Hieronymus Bosch is at the Accademia, with three hermit saints set in a crumbling landscape full of hybrid creatures and ruins. They got here because Cardinal Domenico Grimani bought them, a Venetian collector who was buying Flemish work when almost nobody in Italy was.
Seeing them here, five rooms from the Tempest, says more than a textbook about how far Venice looked north as well as east.
6. Carpaccio’s Stories of Saint Ursula
A whole cycle, in a room of its own, painted in the 1490s for the Scuola di Sant’Orsola.
Carpaccio tells the legend of the Breton princess as though it were a Venetian news report: ambassadors stepping off ships moored in basins that look like the Molo, palaces with funnel chimneys, carpets hung from balconies, dogs lying down. The most famous piece is the Dream of Saint Ursula, where the saint sleeps in a perfectly furnished Venetian bedroom and the angel comes in through the door with the palm of martyrdom.
It is the closest thing we have to a photograph of the city in the fifteenth century.
7. Titian’s Pietà
Titian’s last painting, and perhaps his most violent.
He was painting it for his own tomb, which he had obtained in the basilica of the Frari, when he died of plague in 1576. The picture was left unfinished and was completed by Palma il Giovane, who said so in an inscription.
How does a man of eighty paint when he is working on his own tomb? The painting of those last years has almost no outlines left: the colour is laid on in tears, with fingers as well as brush, and the figure of Christ emerges from the dark without drawing. Titian was over eighty and painting as nobody would paint for another three centuries. If you have got this far after reading the article on Titian, this is the end of the story.
Practical information
Data checked on 1 September 2026 on the museum’s official site. Prices change: check gallerieaccademia.it before you travel.
Opening hours. Tuesday to Sunday, 9:00 to 19:00. Ticket sales close at 18:00 and visitors are shown out from half an hour before closing. Mondays are normally closed, though the calendar may include extraordinary openings: it is the commonest mistake made by people planning two days in Venice.
Prices. Full price 20 euros, up from the previous 15: many resellers still quote the old figure. Reduced 2 euros for EU citizens aged 18 to 25. Free under 18, always, which is a generous policy and worth knowing if you are travelling with teenagers. There is no free entry for over 65s.
Two rates almost nobody knows about. The Arteritivo costs 15 euros, is reserved for those aged 26 to 35 and is valid on Fridays between 17:15 and 19:00, with last entry at 18:00. The Insieme rate costs 17 euros a head for groups of 10 to 25 adults over 26, booked by telephone.
Where to buy. The museum states that TicketOne is its only authorised online reseller. Buying ahead saves time at the desk, but queues here are rare: this is not the Colosseum, and there is no need to pay for skip-the-line.
How long you need. Two hours for the full route at a calm pace. If you are short of time, the rooms that really count are Veronese’s, Tintoretto’s and the Carpaccio room.
Where it is. The museum stands in Dorsoduro, at the foot of the Accademia bridge, on the opposite bank from Piazza San Marco. Vaporetto lines 1 and 2 stop at Accademia. In the two days in Venice itinerary it opens the morning of the second day, when you change bank.
