Pescara is a city of concrete, much of which is not too pretty, as it dates to the postwar building frenzy, which hurriedly filled the gaps carved out by Allied carpet bombings in 1943. Benedetta Spalletti’s gallery, Vistamare (“sea view,” even if the Adriatic is too far away to be seen from the gallery—the name alludes to a family picture from her childhood), is located in a miniscule section of old houses that survived the destruction, but is so encircled by the concrete-ness of the present (a viaduct, a parking lot, a new high-rise) so as to appear under siege. With its shady courtyard and frescoed ceilings, the small palazzo is a time capsule, and, quite unusually, it hosts a permanent artwork (Sotto il tavolo [Under the Table], 1997), an immersive room covered in greenish blue pigments by Ettore Spalletti (the owner’s uncle) which offers a further walk on the Elysian side, away from all the dismaying neighbouring sights. The same confrontation between aging concrete and fragile rococo grace takes place within this exhibition, which brings together Giuseppe Uncini (1929–2008), an Italian sculptor of the same generation as Piero Manzoni (1933–63) and Enrico Castellani (b. 1930), and Paris-based Isabelle Cornaro …