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.
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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 ...
