The Relics Return; In an understated yet triumphant display, Italy shows off some of the stolen artifacts recently won back from the Getty.(J. Paul Getty Museum)

Byline: Barbie Nadeau

The dusty Via Garibaldi is about as trendy as it gets in the northwestern Sicilian village of Trapani, known mostly for its salt mines and ferry terminal. The narrow pedestrian street is the site of the daily passagiata by locals, who window-shop at boutiques housed in aging palazzi. But these days, one storefront offers much more than designer shoes or handbags: the Palazzo Milo Pappalardo contains the new exhibit "Selinunte Rediscovered: Materials Restituted from the J. Paul Getty Museum" (through Oct. 15), comprising precious artifacts stolen from the Greek ruins of nearby Selinunte that have recently been brought back to Italy from the Los Angeles museum. The free exhibit, displayed in a series of elegant, simply dressed storefront windows, is a far cry from the spectacularly modern Getty. But the collection, anchored by the sixth-century B.C. funeral epigraph of "Latinos" and a fifth-century B.C. religious text, or "Lex Sacra," looks a lot more at home here.

Seeing Italian artifacts in their context--where emperors once walked, where the statues originally stood and where the kraters were used to mix wine and water--can be a powerful experience, like a first-hand account of ancient history. Stumbling upon these returned treasures, proudly displayed in the heart of a rustic provincial capital, triggers deep feelings of national pride. The Lex Sacra, for example, is a tattered stone block on which the steps for conducting spiritual rituals are written in ancient Greek. It is of great significance to Italians--especially Sicilians--who routinely study the history of the Greeks who once inhabited the island. Likewise, the Greek funeral epigraph, which was returned from the Getty early this year as a goodwill gesture, bears an inscription that directly ties the early Romans to Greek ancestors. "Seeing these pieces here, back in this very province is long overdue," says Sicilian villager Roberto Paciello. "There is a new appreciation for them now."

The experience will soon get even better: on Oct. 15, the pieces will make it all the way home to the glorious Greek ruins of Selinunte, where they will be part of a permanent exhibit in the municipal museum there. For anyone who has climbed around those atmospheric ruins, where 2,000-year-old pillars are literally scattered on the cliff tops overlooking the turquoise sea, it's hard to argue that the treasures belong anywhere else. Only by delving deep into the layers of history--whether by literally climbing down into an abandoned tomb where a funeral script once adorned the walls or by simply exploring the ruins of an ancient villa--does one get a true sense of how these artifacts were used. Studying an ancient vase, for example, against the colors of the sky and the sea in Selinunte, enhances that object's significance. It's difficult to glean the same meaning from seeing it under floodlighting in a minimalist museum. Beyond allowing Italians to reclaim fragments of their stolen cultural heritage, the Selinunte exhibit also sets a worthy precedent for what to do with--and how to celebrate--the returned treasures. Each piece is greeted with ceremonial fanfare typically reserved for the return of a long-lost relative, complete with military officers, red carpet and a formal unveiling, often to the cheers of an appreciative crowd.

This week the National Museum of Rome will follow Sicily's lead and put on display 13 artifacts of questionable provenance quietly returned by the Boston Museum of Fine Arts late last month. A week later, these pieces--including an immaculate second-century B.C. marble statue of Vibia Sabina, the wife of the Emperor Hadrian--will be distributed to the provincial capitals from where they were pilfered to bolster those local museums. Italians believe that it is vital to national honor and historical integrity to bring such relics ...