Crocodile on the ceiling

Cabinets of curiosities, which became quite popular during the 16th century Europe, assembled objects from the worlds of natural history, geology, ethnography, archaeology, religious or historical relics, even of art and antiquities

That inexhaustible curiosity about the world which is reflected in our own ancient texts in India, or in al-Qazwini’s 13th century classic, the Ajaib al-Makhluqat wa Gharaib al-Mawjudat — often described as the "most precious cosmography of the Islamic culture" — seems to have taken different, more concrete, forms in Europe from the 16th century onwards. Among them, of course, was the construction of Cabinets of Curiosities: Wunderkammer-s, as they were called in German, or Kunstkammer-s, meaning ‘Chambers of Wonders’ or "of Art". In their essence, and prosaically, they can be described as large, extensive rooms in which were assembled curious objects that came from the worlds of natural history, geology, ethnography, archaeology, religious or historical relics, even of art and antiquities.

With reason, many people have spoken of these Cabinets of Curiosities as the true predecessors of modern-day museums. For, in them, were housed compilations of "remarkable things that mirrored contemporary knowledge, regardless of whether these objects were created by the genius of man or the caprice of nature. The rarer an item, the more attractive it appeared..."

Ferrante Imperato’s Cabinet of Curiosities. Naples, Italy. 1599

All this, however, fails to give one any idea of the form that some of the early Cabinets took, or the excitement they generated. For that one has to go to an image: an early Italian engraving taken from Ferrante Imperato’s Dell’Historia Naturale, possibly the earliest illustration of a natural history cabinet. Imperato, an apothecary who lived in Naples, had assembled an extraordinary collection of objects that aroused widespread curiosity and when he opened his ‘Cabinet’ to visitors, especially the rich and the famous, he also wanted others to gain a glimpse of those wonders through this engraving that shows him inside the Cabinet, along with his son, while a few people look with wide-eyed wonder at all that surrounds him.

The scene in the engraving has been well-described, for part of it was meant to "authenticate" the information he was sharing. There are, thus, to be seen "open bookcases at the right, in which many volumes are stored lying down and stacked, in the medieval fashion, or with their spines upward, to protect the pages from dust. Some of the volumes doubtless represent his herbarium. Every surface of the vaulted ceiling is occupied with preserved fishes, stuffed mammals and curious shells, with a stuffed crocodile suspended in the centre. Examples of corals stand on the bookcases. At the left, the room is fitted out like a studiolo with a range of built-in cabinets whose fronts can be unlocked and let down to reveal intricately-fitted nests of pigeonholes forming architectural units, filled with small mineral specimens.

Above them, stuffed birds stand against panels inlaid with square polished stone samples, doubtless marbles and jaspers or fitted with pigeonhole compartments for specimens. Below them, a range of cupboards contain specimen boxes and covered jars...." There are wonders everywhere.

Slowly, Cabinets such as these became a rage in Europe, it would appear, collectors vying with one another. In Italy, they were seen as installations that showcased a collector’s exhaustive education and humanist learning. It was believed, commonly, that a cabinet must have as its ingredients, three things: "naturalia (products of nature), arteficialia (or artefacta, the products of man), and scientifica (the testaments of man’s ability to dominate nature, such as astrolabes, clocks, automatons, and scientific instruments)." But they took different shapes and forms. Monarchs with great resources — the Medicis in Italy, Peter the Great in Russia, the Habsburgs of Austria, among them —, inveterate explorers, scientists, all assembled them and shared them with pride. The Cabinets of Princes, sometimes, stretched into several galleries, one of them described as a "formation of cloister-like ambulatories, with four wings comprising several floors" for housing nearly 3,500 objects. In Dresden, with good reason, a Cabinet was assembled so that it could become "a teaching tool to improve the professional skills and stimulate the cultural interest of its public visitors".

But possibly the grandest, the most spectacular, of all Cabinets was established by Rudolf II (ruled 1576-1612), Holy Roman Emperor, and ruler of Austria-Hungary. In this context, one also remembers the fact that the founder of the famed British Museum, Sir Hans Sloane, a physician, spent 15 years collecting and cataloguing native plants in Jamaica, a large number of which became among the earliest objects to be housed in that Museum. Somewhere at the back of men must have been Francis Bacon’s dictum of 1594 that among the essential apparatus required of a learned man was, besides a "library, a garden and a laboratory", was "a goodly, huge cabinet, wherein whatsoever the hand of man by exquisite art or engine has made rare in stuff, form or motion."

This is the way it went in 16^th and 17^th century Europe. But, removed from all this although not unrelated, I am tempted somehow to quote a passage I came upon in the World Timelines on cultures of the world in UK Museums. "Every collection", it runs, "tells a story. Even as we construct the Cabinet of Curiosities we must be aware that we are creating classifications, drawing patterns out of the chaos of the past, constructing narratives where none exist. We are inventing a taxonomy, a convenient fiction to aid analysis and encourage reflection. This is what history is — collections of ‘facts’ arranged in a cabinet called ‘the past’.

HOME