Cabinet of Curiosities

February 26, 2012

By Mary Jo Gibson

Several weeks have passed since my last Cabinet of Curiosities, a change in work environment and new responsibilities have filled my hours since January.  But I am happy to share that these events have cycled through and I am able to return and share a new cabinet and other changes that will be coming to my blog.

This Cabinet is from the Metropolitan Museum in New York, once owned by Dominique Vivant-Denon, director of the mint and the Musee Napoleon (now the Musee du Louvre), as well as a collector and arbiter of taste during the Napoleonic period.  He accompanied the Egyptian campaign of 1798-99 as a draftsman and published his drawings in 1802.  The pylon at Ghoos, in Upper Egypt, served as the model for the top section of this medal cabinet, which was intended for Napoleon but remained in Denon’s possession.

The front and back panels are inlaid with a silver scarab flanked by uraei (sacred serpents) on lotus stalks.  There are twenty two drawers on each side of the cabinet, all inlaid with a silver bee, and one wing is hinged to provide a pull.  Take a closer look at the craftsmanship to appreciate the beauty of this cabinet.

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John James Audubon

Opening the new Cabinet of Curiosities is the story of John James Audubon’s illustrated “Birds of America”, one of the largest books ever published.  Measuring three feet tall with 400 life size pictures of American bird species, this collection was purchased at auction for $7.9 million through Christie’s auction house.

John James Audubon, 1785-1851

To leaf through the pages of this literary treasure and view the life like illustrations is truly a connoisseur’s dream.   Audubon’s influence on ornithology and natural history was far reaching.  Later ornithological works were inspired by his artistry and high standards.  Charles Darwin quoted Audubon three times in “On the Origin of Species” and in later works.  His significant contribution to the understanding of bird anatomy and behavior is still the highest standard for comparison to date.

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Edgar Allan Poe

Edgar Allen Poe, 1809-1849

Edgar Allan Poe (1809-1849) is remembered as a novelist, editor and poet, but in his day, it was conchology that helped pay the bills.  While living in Philadelphia  during 1838, Poe took on the most unusual project of his literary career, acting as a writer for hire to his neighbor, Thomas Wyatt.  The idea was that Poe’s recognizable name on the title page of Wyatt’s edition of Thomas Brown’s “Conchologist’s Text Book” would spur sales.  Poe, who was paid $50 for his efforts, contributed to the preface and introduction.  Wyatt contributed most of the scientific detail (unattributed)  and Brown the bulk of the text (unattributed).  This led to years of mistaken claims that Poe had plagiarized his only published work in the natural sciences.  It was the only one of his works to enjoy a second edition during his lifetime.

Mr. Poe will be the subject of a new movie starring John Cusack, The Raven, a fictionalized account of his final days.  Perhaps the film will renew interest in the career of this celebrated author.

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The Louvre

“Street in Cairo” was part of an 1889 Universal Exhibition at the Louvre, a spectacular project reconstructing architectural elements from houses and monuments of style.   Organized by Baron Alphonse Delort de Gleon (1849-1899), a resident of Egypt for more than thirty years, the Mamluk porch was disassembled and transported by boat from Port Said to Le Havre in order to be included in the exhibition.  The four meter high porch could not be reassembled due to the project’s technical complexity and has remained hidden in the storage of the Louvre for more than 100 years.

The Mashrabiya with stained glass panels comes from the private home of Edmond de Rothschild, who had a Moorish smoking room installed in his Paris mansion.  These wooden elements were very popular in the Ottoman period, located on the facades of the upper floors of wealthy Cairo homes. The stained glass panels are adorned with floral motifs typical of the Ottoman period, tulips, carnations and irises.  Several are from the collection amassed by Baron de Gleon during his time in Cairo.

If these architectural elements are what is to be found in the storage rooms of the Louvre, one wonders what other masterpieces are hidden away, and what stories are waiting to be discovered.

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Walters Art Museum

These lacquered doors come from Iran, produced between 1850-1910, are found at the Walters Art Museum.  Decorated with ornamental, floral and figural motifs that recall the 17^th century Safavid period designs; including men and women from the court, banquet and hunting scenes, animals in combat, and fantastic creatures.  One of the male figures in the lower border of the right door is dressed in Portuguese clothing, demonstrating Iran’s contact with Western cultures in the 17^th century.

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Stearns Collection

A collection of musical instruments that spans centuries and continents, worth an estimated $25 million, are packed and stacked in an out of the way storage room with water stained ceilings.  Not the environment envisioned for them when Frederick Stearns gave the University of Michigan the base of the collection more than a century ago with instructions they be exhibited – not invisible.

“The collection has been in a holding pattern for 112 years.  This is a national treasure – it deserves the dignity of either being properly housed, or dispersed in such a way that it could be,” says Steven Ball, director of the Stearns Collection of Musical Instruments.

17th century book of Gregorian chants

Last seen prior to their removal from Hill Auditorium in 1974, the 2,500+ instruments are finally on display again-digitally.  More than 12,000 color photographs are available online in a searchable catalog offering a plethora of never before seen information.    May aficionados and researchers make this unique collection viable again through the digital nomenclature.

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Leonardo Live

I was fortunate to view Leonardo da Vinci: Painter at the Court of Milan from the National Gallery as a new digital feature at my local theater.  Unable to travel to London, presenting an art show in this medium is a great way to experience the retrospective.  Given the popularity of ballet, opera and symphony performances in high definition theater viewing, this expansion for the arts provides a new revenue stream for museums, bringing a world-wide audience to see these historical paintings.

While I was disappointed the supporting works displayed in the gallery were not shown, the movie centered on the seven paintings featured at the museum.   As the first of what are many more exhibitions to be featured in theaters, I can only hope for better writing and more historical context.  I did learn a bit about Leonardo and his work habits, and a few historical references to his patrons, but I came away with the feeling that the best information had been rejected in favor of interviews with guests.

Christ as Salvator Mundi

The most intriguing aspect of the show is the newly attributed “Christ as Salvator Mundi.”  A proportionate amount of time was spent on comparison with the other paintings, and I found myself agreeing that Leonardo had been involved in the process of this image.  The hands in particular have a grace found in other da Vinci paintings; but to me, the eyes are not by the same hand.  As discussed at length in the movie, Leonardo habitually failed to finish paintings; often completion was only accomplished through his workshop of trained artists.  Leonardo was an industrious individual, producing war machines for Cesare Borgia; a musician, scientist, mathematician, engineer, inventor, anatomist, geologist, cartographer, botanist and writer; his work habits are well documented as he moved through the subjects that interested him at the moment.  I invite your comments on comparison of this image to other Leonardo works in the space provided below.

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Thank you for joining me again for my feature, Cabinet of Curiosities.  My site statistics during my absence tell me that history and art are a constant interest to many individuals.  Continuing this dialogue and introducing forgotten artisans to the digital world is my passion.  I will be updating with a Museum Monday, returning again to my regular format now that life has calmed from the recent storm.

Cheers,

Mary Jo

Sir John Soane

The Soane Museum

Architects today are as likely to design streamlined green environments, as they are traditional buildings; the classical forms of Greece and Rome are the basics for architectural students.   It was gospel in the late 18^th and early 19^th centuries when Sir John Soane practiced in London.

Soane (1753-1837) was the architect of the Dulwich Picture Gallery, Chelsea Hospital and the official house architect to the Bank of England.  His lucrative practice enabled him to cram his house full of ancient friezes, capitals, statuary, and funerary objects, architectural drawings and paintings.  That may sound like either the attic from hell or a museum.  Soane viewed it as the latter.  In his lifetime, budding architects and other visitors were welcome to tramp around the house; except in bad weather when they would have muddied the carpets.  By act of Parliament on his death, it became a museum aptly named Sir John Soane’s Museum.

The ground floor begins gently enough with the dining room and library, which are full of objects, but not entirely stuffed with them.  Soane’s canny lattice of light and mirrors maximize available illumination.  The additions to the house were built to display the collection, while all manner of windows, skylights and other openings that enable light to get down even into the basement, assisted by more mirrors of varying styles and type.

In a tiny study there is a plan of the house’s system of drainpipes, a useful reminder that architecture is not just about the design of monuments for the ages.  From the study, you can look out the window at the recently restored Pasticcio (image), a column that illustrates architectural history: made up of Roman and Norman fragments and topped with a cast iron pineapple.

Hundreds of sculptural fragments will distract at each step.  A set of original Hogarth’s “the Rake’s Progress” series can be viewed in the picture gallery, and tucked behind a panel, a painting of Soane’s Bank of England building as it might have looked as a 2,000 year old ruin had it survived.  A majority of the building was demolished in a 20^th century redesign, an act one architectural historian called “the greatest architectural crime in the City of London.”

Down in the crypt, as it is called, is the Egyptian sarcophagus of King Seti I (around 1300 BC), carved out of one massive block of limestone.  It is spectacular in itself, but, as with much in the Soane, viewing it is enhanced by a story: Soane bought it in 1824 after the British Museum would not pay the asking price of 2,000 pounds.  Once he installed it, a feat that involved partial demolition and restoration of the building, he celebrated with a three-day party, inviting nearly a thousand guests.

Unbelievably a lost possession of the estate was recovered in 2009; the unique item was offered for sale by Christie’s, a gold mourning ring containing a plaited lock of Napoleon’s hair, one of Sir John Soane’s most prized possessions.  A letter of presentation survives in the Soane Museum archive from Miss Elizabeth ‘Betsy’ Balcombe the daughter of an official on St. Helena where Napoleon was imprisoned.  As a child, she became a favorite of the emperor, later writing a memoir of their friendship.  “Knowing how much Mr. Soane esteems the reliques of great men Miss E. Balcombe presents him with a lock of Bonaparte’s hair received by her from the hands of that great Personage.”  The inscription inside reads: “This lock of hair of Napoleon Buonaparte was presented to John Soane by Miss Elizabeth Balcombe.”  It also includes the words Prier Pour Moi (pray for me).  The ring is hallmarked London 1822, the year after Napoleon’s death on St. Helena.

Soane died a widower in 1837, estranged from his surviving son whom he felt betrayed him, contributing to his own mother’s death.  He and his wife are buried in a vault of his own design in the churchyard of Saint Pancras Old Church.  The design of the vault was a direct influence on Giles Gilbert Scott’s design of the red telephone booth.