La Specola - Florences Wax Wonderland

When I first found out about the Specola Museum in Florence it was a great revelation, and felt like a missing puzzle piece had finally been found. Some years ago I purchased the Taschen book ‘Encyclopedia Anatomica’, a beautiful publication filled with amazing images of anatomical, medical waxworks. I bought the book after visiting the Montpellier Museum of Anatomy in 2018 and struggling hugely with the fact that photography was forbidden within the great hall. These images were eventually to be my memento to a place I had waited years to visit and would probably never see again.

 
Fast forward a number of years and I’m informed about the Specola and it’s incredible collection of anatomical waxworks, Immediately I thought of Montpellier and my book. I rushed to look at it for reference, and to my utter surprise the vast majority of the images within its pages were actually taken at the Specola! I had never realised this amazing fact, but as soon as I did I knew I must visit the Specola.

 
Sadly it turned out the Specola was closed and had been for a number of years, and nobody seemed to know if it would ever reopen at all. Patience was all I had. Fortunately in spring 2024, the moment I thought would never come did! And the Specola Museum reopened to the public after much refurbishment, and of course Covid. 

I took the opportunity during my very next trip to Florence to visit the Specola, in particular their anatomical waxworks. 

 
Accessible by private tour only, the rooms of the collection are not open as part of general access to the museum, so if you’re hoping to visit then plan ahead. Booking isn’t possible and only a limited number of tours and spaces are up for grabs each day so don’t leave it to chance! I went to the museum at opening time to book on a tour later that day, and during our tour people were being turned away who hadn't taken the same precaution, so its definitely a good piece of advice.

Arriving early to take in some of the other sights of the museum before the last tour of the day, there is an incredible wealth of delights on display. A huge collection of minerals and gems from all over the world, an amazing taxidermy collection with some truly fascinating specimens on display and an incredibly unique display of wax dioramas, ranging from the cellular structures of plants to moral scenes of death, decay and sin. But each of these captivating sections of the Specola deserve their very own blog. But this blog is devoted to that macabre wonder of the anatomical waxworks ...

La Specola is the oldest scientific museum in the world. And when it comes to the wax works this museum is so rightly famed for, science is the name of the game. The anatomical diorama on display were commissioned as aids for teaching medicine in the 18th and 19th century. The detail in these models is absolutely unparalleled, with every vein, muscle and tendon crafted with loving accuracy. The grizzly reality of achieving this is that hundreds of bodies had to be dissected and observed to create just one model. And some models were even built up around bones to ensure accuracy.

The techniques used to create these intricate wax models are all but lost today. A skill so specific, but also groundbreaking, that it was seemingly developed and extinguished in the blink of an eye. This unfortunately means that conservation on the models is difficult, if nigh on impossible.  

The goal of the groundbreaking Florentine school of wax was to end the necessity for cadaver use and dissection when teaching anatomy to medical students. To essentially replace corpses with these wax teaching aids, as many of them as could be created. The visionary whose brainchild this was, Felice Fontana, had the patronage and support of the Grand Duke in his mission. Before long the specimens created could be found across Europe, and indeed the vast collection at the Montpellier Conservatory of Anatomy were actually created at the Specola (my Italian is by no means good, but good enough to understand when the guide told us this and I thought 'Of course they were!')

Today we are left a legacy of carefully crafted creations which could never fail to provoke response in those fortunate enough to visit. At times harrowing, shocking, distressing, but also thought provoking. Morality (and the future of ones soul) and Memento Mori were great themes and obsession of the 18th century across Europe. And whether intentional or not, these wax models are imbued with that in every fibre of their creation. To stare at tangles of tissue, bundles of nerves and networks of veins strewn across bone and muscle, the contemplation of ones own physical presence and fragile physiology cant help but surface in the mind. 

La Specola is a fascinating place where you'd be forgiven for thinking time had stood still. The entire aesthetic is a snapshot of the time which caused the creation of these models. When precision, craftsmanship and excellence were valued above all. Hauntingly beautiful models are housed in fine traditional wooden and glass cabinets, where the ageing glass hints at the years these displays have seen. And occasional white curled wigs starkly remind us the dead faces we observe through the mists of time were Georgian folk, condemned to the immortal legacy of being a waxwork. While a noble intent, but all the same a less than noble end for the soul we see before us.
The detailed drawings filling the walls made me wish I could afford the luxury of time in this incredible place. As an artist the possibilities are endless, as Felice Fontana truly intended.

To find out more info and plan your visit to La Specola click here!

Sacro Bosco di Bomarzo

Ever since I first spied the image of the gaping mouth of l’Orco and his eyes, relentlessly staring, demanding you search your soul, I knew that Sacro Bosco was an incredibly special place. For many years I’ve dreamed of and hoped to visit this incredible garden, and finally 2024 was the year.

Sacro Bosco lies nestled in the hills of Lazio, in a remote and unassuming area. The charming village of Bomarzo is perched on a hill directly over the garden, and is crowned by the castle of Orsini, built by one of the most powerful families in central Italy during the medieval period. This fantastical ‘monster garden’ was the brainchild of Pier Orsini, Duke of Bomarzo, who together with his architect dreamed up this bizarre wonderland where he could stroll from his castle directly to this incredible playground of men, monsters and Animalia. 

Commissioned in 1547 this oasis of oddities was more than just a strange sculpture park. It was a philosophical journey which Orsini wanted to take humanity on. A visual, mental and emotional voyage through art and nature, and as a self confessed worshiper of art and nature, who could resist such a proposition?

Upon entering through a crenelated archway that looks as old and craggy as time itself, you are met by two Sphinx brandishing plaques. These whimsical women ponder;
‘Tu ch’entri qua pon mente parte a parte e dimmi poi se tante meraviglie sien fatte per inganno o pur per arte’,
Roughly meaning in English; 'You who enter here, put your mind to it piece by piece and tell me then if these wonders were made as deception or art' a thought provoking entrance, and one which sets the philosophical tone of the garden. 

The dappled shade kindly provided by the foliage is welcome in the afternoon heat, and soon the sound of rustling leaves is overpowered by that of waterfalls and a stream gently flowing secretly out of view. When the garden was first completed the sound of water must have been an ever present companion on any walk in this wonderland. Fountains are at every turn, and the complex of pools and flowing water must have been quite a feat of engineering as well as ingenuity. Now many are dry and mere hints of their former fountain glory, but in some way the imagination of seeing the invisible feels an essential part of this place.

Quickly following the neat paths laid between the trees and shrubs you are greeted by the grotesques which Sacro Bosco is so famed for. A gaping mouth with the weight of the world on his mind 'Proteo Glauco' a Greek god is a small taster of what is to come.
Through the foliage glimpses begin to emerge of what feels like a lost ancient temple. Giant faces peek out, and upon descent to a lower level the battle of Cacus and Hercules is revealed, huge and powerful. These muscular giants tower over you in a tangle of power and strength. Looking at their physique I couldn’t help but think of William Blake’s incredible approach to human physiology, huge chunks of writhing meat fueled by pure emotion. Did Blake ever see images of these creations? I know not. But the similarities in style are undeniable. 

The beauty of this place and it’s character is constantly developing and evolving. Semi ruined tomb like facades fade into nature. With carvings becoming unworked stone, and grotesque faces peering at you from the mossy floor. Flawless integration between human creation and nature only adds to the mystery of this place. What has been manipulated? What has always been? It seems a  blurred line you simply shouldn't try to define. 

The lower level of Sacro Bosco feels like some long forgotten relic, rediscovered crumbling.  Semi-ruinous and long lost, an Indiana Jonesesque wilderness. Then the illusion its gently shattered by Casa Pendente; the leaning house. Any unobservant, uninterested passer by would liken this Torre to Pisa or some other structurally unsound leaning building. Only within seconds it was clear this place was perfectly structurally sound and had been built this way. On a great, disorientating lean. As Iacopo so aptly summed up to me 'Have you been inside?! Its horrible you have to get out as fast as possible!!'
And this set the entire tone for the rest of the gardens journey for me, a total challenge to the senses ...

Things went from calm, quiet wonder to the outright bizarre, fantastical, outrageous as you ascended the next level of this utterly other-worldly place. An incredibly grandiose processional way lined by huge urns guides you down to Neptune, lounging nobally over a moss encrusted mound. A once magnificent fountain now silent and dry. He is flanked on both sides by wonders, peaking through the foliage, temptations pulling you left and right. Statues became more concentrated and compacted. The senses became saturated. Spectacles surrounded me. Elephants. Dragons. Gods. Monsters. A riot of sculpture, unsure which way to turn next and what you would see. The possibilities seem endless, and the wildest thought realised right here in stone.

And finally there he sits, nestled in amongst this carnival of surreal madness, Orco; The Ogre. The Mouth of Hell. His eternal gape has a strangely welcoming quality. His eyes fixed on you, beckoning you to join him in the most intimate way. He stands over the empty space beneath, commanding, dominating, imposing. Orco's inscription today is ambiguois; 'Ogni pensiero vola'; 'All thoughts fly away'. Perhaps a freeing of the mind and ones cares. But his message wasn't always so carefree. The original 'Lasciate ogni pensiero voi ch'entrate'; 'Abandon hope all ye who enter' was a much more ominous greeting.
Its easy to see why Orco has become the unwavering image and symbol of Sacro Bosco. He could produce a hundered different reactions in one hundered different victims. And in that alone he represents the entire purpose for the gardens creation and the psychological journey it was designed to take visitors on. Entirely personal and unique. A voyage into the unknown, on which, hopefully, every lucky participant will enrich or change their world view or life in some way.
It is interesting that to this day the true meaning and origin of the garden is still discussed and debated. Nobody can quite seem to agree on what statues mean, which god or goddess they represent, and ultimately what Orsini wanted to accomplish with the construction of this otherworldly place. Whatever Count Orsini was attempting to create, one things for certain, his legacy is this incredible garden. An eternal paradise of the fantastical and bizarre. Encapsulating so much culture, mythology and mystery its really not easy to wrap your head around exactly what you're seeing. But I strongly suspect, Orsini would be rather happy with that fact. 

The 'Monster Park' was the sort of place I could linger every day of the year and never tire for a moment. It has a quality, a magic, the type which permeates every cell and enchanted me utterly, as an artist and a photographer. But claps of thunder and a rapid descent of threatening storm clouds meant a hasty retreat was required. And I couldn't help but feel Orco had spoken, banishing us and keeping his secrets to himself for another day ...