I am standing in the cloister of the Musée des Augustins in Toulouse, looking out into the garden at a pile of rubble. To my right, six or seven Romanesque sculptures are lined up neatly along the wall, each one swaddled in plastic. The longer I stand there, the more those wrapped figures start to take on other forms: body bags, sleeping bags, emergency blankets, sacks of loot, bubble wrap.
All of these associations feel apt for this extraordinary place, which is, when I visit in late October, approaching the final stages of a seven-year period of renovation, since the building has served many different purposes over the years, some all at once: a religious complex, a secular museum, a home for plundered goods, a haven for endangered artworks and…