Cabinets of Curiosities

Rating:
Summary: Curiosity Satisfied
Review: It is a chaotic world out there. It would be nice to bring that chaotic world in to a room, or even into a cabinet, and sort it all out, top to bottom. There have been those who have tried this, collectors who aspired to gathering parts of the world that would sum it all up, and place them together so that those parts could reflect upon each other. This quixotic aim is beautifully depicted in a big illustrated book, _Cabinets of Curiosities_ (Thames & Hudson) by Patrick Mauriès. You can look at the lavish illustrations here, and gain a bit of understanding of the obsessions of the collector, and you might look around your own relatively meager curios, and recognize some envy.

Mauriès speculates that the precursors of such cabinets were the relic collections in medieval churches. Such collections might have started with supposed pieces of saints or of the True Cross, but eventually included bizarre tangents like a vial of milk from the breast of the Virgin, or the rod used by Moses. The magical air of such a collection, but these cabinets were secular, built not by monks, but by kings and other wealthy men. As collectors perfected their assemblies, they sought out rarities, and this tended to make the collections full of idiosyncratic freaks. These sorts of marvels were to fill the viewer with wonder, but tastes in such things change. As the eighteenth century approached, wonder itself was regarded as a "low, bumptious form of pleasure," a credulousness which was out of place with scientific enquiry. Mauriès demonstrates that even though the collectors tried to emphasize relationships between the items in the cabinets, the surrealists were equally good at assembling items whose conjunctions would be without meaning. There is a picture of the surrealists' exhibition in Paris in 1936, and although the cabinet is metal and glass, it contains found objects, bones, and mathematical sculptures that any curiosity collector would have valued.

Mauriès's tour of strange collections of strange objects is great fun. His chapters about the history and fate of such collections, and the personalities that engaged in them, reflect a deeply intellectual appreciation. But _Cabinets of Curiosities_ is a picture book. There are reproductions of old prints showing how the collections used to look, as well as photographs of cabinets which still remain, and the strange objects of desire that filled them. It makes a good-looking volume. Pictures here include the cherry pit carved with thirty miniscule heads; ivory worked into seemingly impossible spirals, linked rings, and spheres within spheres; a jeweled cup with dragons horns (which are actually warthog tusks); portraits of "cat people" abnormally covered with hair; mechanical insects; and much more. Beautifully laid out, these pages are curious, indeed.

Rating:
Summary: Curiosity Satisfied
Review: It is a chaotic world out there. It would be nice to bring that chaotic world in to a room, or even into a cabinet, and sort it all out, top to bottom. There have been those who have tried this, collectors who aspired to gathering parts of the world that would sum it all up, and place them together so that those parts could reflect upon each other. This quixotic aim is beautifully depicted in a big illustrated book, _Cabinets of Curiosities_ (Thames & Hudson) by Patrick Mauriès. You can look at the lavish illustrations here, and gain a bit of understanding of the obsessions of the collector, and you might look around your own relatively meager curios, and recognize some envy.

Mauriès speculates that the precursors of such cabinets were the relic collections in medieval churches. Such collections might have started with supposed pieces of saints or of the True Cross, but eventually included bizarre tangents like a vial of milk from the breast of the Virgin, or the rod used by Moses. The magical air of such a collection, but these cabinets were secular, built not by monks, but by kings and other wealthy men. As collectors perfected their assemblies, they sought out rarities, and this tended to make the collections full of idiosyncratic freaks. These sorts of marvels were to fill the viewer with wonder, but tastes in such things change. As the eighteenth century approached, wonder itself was regarded as a "low, bumptious form of pleasure," a credulousness which was out of place with scientific enquiry. Mauriès demonstrates that even though the collectors tried to emphasize relationships between the items in the cabinets, the surrealists were equally good at assembling items whose conjunctions would be without meaning. There is a picture of the surrealists' exhibition in Paris in 1936, and although the cabinet is metal and glass, it contains found objects, bones, and mathematical sculptures that any curiosity collector would have valued.

Mauriès's tour of strange collections of strange objects is great fun. His chapters about the history and fate of such collections, and the personalities that engaged in them, reflect a deeply intellectual appreciation. But _Cabinets of Curiosities_ is a picture book. There are reproductions of old prints showing how the collections used to look, as well as photographs of cabinets which still remain, and the strange objects of desire that filled them. It makes a good-looking volume. Pictures here include the cherry pit carved with thirty miniscule heads; ivory worked into seemingly impossible spirals, linked rings, and spheres within spheres; a jeweled cup with dragons horns (which are actually warthog tusks); portraits of "cat people" abnormally covered with hair; mechanical insects; and much more. Beautifully laid out, these pages are curious, indeed.

Rating:
Summary: a guide to treasures that is a visual treat
Review: Patrick Mauries' "Cabinets of Curiosities" is a study of rooms of wonder. Built during the Baroque Age in Europe, these rooms--sometimes large chambers and in other cases simply elaborate cabinets--held the natural and mechanical treasures that wealthy collectors assembled, often in an attempt to structure for themselves an entire universe. Consistent with the sumptuous nature of these collections and the complex manner in which they were displayed, "Cabinets of Curiosities" is distinguished above all by its color photography, its complex design scheme, and a use of cropping and perspective that give the reader a sense of personally entering the collection spaces shown.

Because of its size, focus on photography, and price, "Cabinets of Curiosities" could easily be dismissed as a coffee-table book for the few. However, its appeal should be broader. The instinct to collect and to categorize-- even if it involves only seashells found on the beach, leaves fallen in a forest, or unusual stones found around the home-- is universal. Transcending time and space, collecting and categorizing are fundamental in particular to the sense of wonder and process of learning that define childhood.

"Cabinets of Curiosities" can help us to see anew and celebrate anew the complexities and fascination of the animate and inanimate worlds about us. In these circumstances, it is particularly disappointing that the text is so lightweight in comparison to the photographs and that the confusing movement among typefaces makes it difficult to track the text. Mauries is to be congratulated for his bold thinking in fashioning this book and making it so beautiful. If he had devoted an equal amount of effort to researching, explaining, and documenting his subject matter, "Cabinets of Curiosities" would have risen to the ranks of a publishing classic.

Rating:
Summary: a guide to treasures that is a visual treat
Review: Patrick Mauries' "Cabinets of Curiosities" is a study of rooms of wonder. Built during the Baroque Age in Europe, these rooms--sometimes large chambers and in other cases simply elaborate cabinets--held the natural and mechanical treasures that wealthy collectors assembled, often in an attempt to structure for themselves an entire universe. Consistent with the sumptuous nature of these collections and the complex manner in which they were displayed, "Cabinets of Curiosities" is distinguished above all by its color photography, its complex design scheme, and a use of cropping and perspective that give the reader a sense of personally entering the collection spaces shown.

Because of its size, focus on photography, and price, "Cabinets of Curiosities" could easily be dismissed as a coffee-table book for the few. However, its appeal should be broader. The instinct to collect and to categorize-- even if it involves only seashells found on the beach, leaves fallen in a forest, or unusual stones found around the home-- is universal. Transcending time and space, collecting and categorizing are fundamental in particular to the sense of wonder and process of learning that define childhood.

"Cabinets of Curiosities" can help us to see anew and celebrate anew the complexities and fascination of the animate and inanimate worlds about us. In these circumstances, it is particularly disappointing that the text is so lightweight in comparison to the photographs and that the confusing movement among typefaces makes it difficult to track the text. Mauries is to be congratulated for his bold thinking in fashioning this book and making it so beautiful. If he had devoted an equal amount of effort to researching, explaining, and documenting his subject matter, "Cabinets of Curiosities" would have risen to the ranks of a publishing classic.