Cabinet of Curiosities

Photo by Bojana Dobrić on Unsplash

i came across…

A Cabinet of Curiosities. The name itself holds in it the charm of mystery and intrigue. That's what drew me to it. Le Cabinet de Curiosities by Jean-François Lesage was the main feature of the AD design show 2019 in Bombay. Past the threshold, the atmosphere of the exhibition vanished and you are carried into a different world, a different era. It was a mesmerizing interplay of the two and three dimensional, with embroidered furniture interspersed with a diverse collection of objects. A little ashamed of myself, for lacking the courage in speaking with him myself, I eavesdropped on bits of conversation as Jean explained the installation illustrating the phases of the moon.

I had recently put in a bad review for a museum where I found myself losing interest because of the haphazard ways in which the collection was put together. The lack of clear intent shone through the layout, circulation and curation. But this couldn’t be more different. Yes, it was a seemingly random display of objects. But there was a certain deliberateness to it which was key to its allure. I could feel the stories forming in my head as I looked at this melange. And it was a delightful experience. This cabinet of curiosities. So I had to find out more about it.

In simplest terms, the cabinet of curiosities was the precursor to a museum. The British Library says -

Cabinets of curiosities, also known as ‘wonder rooms’, were small collections of extraordinary objects which, like today’s museums, attempted to categorize and tell stories about the wonders and oddities of the natural world. 

The idea of evoking wonder and awe seems to be a crucial aspect to this idea. I, for one, find this idea very poetic.

Cabinet of Curiosities - 1690s - Domenico Remps. photo via wiki commons

the psychology behind

I remember pressing up my nose against the glass showcase in my childhood home, staring at the odd set of objects displayed there - a couple of papier mache birds and a lady dancer, clay figures of dancers, my grandad’s binoculars, maybe some creepy dolls, an ugly vase and some other odd knick knacks. Our school trophies would also wind up there. These were mostly things, god knows who collected, that were proudly displayed in the living room for the world to see and appreciate. It was all right there, just beyond your reach even so. And they were treasured. All encased in glass. Most of it has ended up in trash, but some of them are still treasured. It could have been our hoarding gene at work (my father is a legendary hoarder) or how we thought our house would look more beautiful. But it all meant something to us back then. We took pride in them for whatever reason.

Manfredo_Settala - Cabinet of curiosities. photo via wiki commons

roots

Here is the story that I have woven from all the reading I have done on it so far ( which isn't saying much...)

So someone somewhere in the long-gone-now 16th century, was curious about things. It isn't surprising considering how little we knew back then in the dark age of, let's say, scientific ignorance. The world within us was as much a mystery as the vast world without. And human beings are a really curious bunch. So, as I was saying, some very inquisitive soul set about trying to figure things out. And collecting stuff she did figure out. Things that satiated her curiosity and thirst for knowledge, things she was passionate about, things that thrilled her ‘to have and to hold’. Interesting so far? Moving on - it doesn't look like the search had any specific logic to it. To be sure, there were a lot things you didn't know. So you went about trying to understand any or all of it, as much as you can. Seems like the obvious thing anyone would choose to do. And when you have done that, you would be amazed at how things work and your brilliance in having been able to figure it out. History says, this inquisitiveness and our penchant for safeguarding it must be the reason why the Cabinet of Curiosities or the Wonder Room came into being. As a collection of rare or precious stones, stuffed dead animals, cadavers, for starters. It was a means to make sense of the world.

All things considered, I think it would be safe to say that they were proud of their collections. It would have grossed me out for sure, but what I am trying to say is that I get their fascination with the bizarre and the esoteric. Back in the day, I am guessing I would have been equally thrilled at making discoveries and coming across rarities. Undoubtedly, the thrill stands true today as well even though we live in an age of too much information at our fingertips and everything virtual. The pleasure of the physical, tangible and tactile must be the same as then, if not more. Because the cabinet continues to exist in many forms even today - the museums being its excessively organised variant.

fast forward to now >>

I like to think that that the idea of the cabinet seeped into the present; some in tasteful and some rather unpolished spin-offs. In my native land, people call a diluted, simplistic version of it, the Showcase. It is not exactly the Cabinets of Curiosities. But, they were all a curious mishmash of treasures and junk.

I have seen this in many homes I have visited, then and now. A hoard of things on display, that tell us something of who they are, what they believe in, their interests and passions. It adds a human touch to the bareness of a concrete box. The idea certainly lives on in its newer interpretations in the modern homes.

It is hard to say if these count as cabinets of curiosities; just maybe in a literal sense. But there is no one way right way to make the Cabinet of Curiosities. Its beauty lies in the inventiveness and individuality of the collector. Jean-François Lesage talks about how each object tells a subtle story and how it converses with the next one, creating a narrative. There is no scientific explanation for why two objects work well with each other, but when paired thoughtfully, there is an emotional resonance with the audience. This is an important consideration while designing any space. We are not merely putting together an exhibition of objects that talks about what strata we belong to. Our choice of one object over another says something about our taste, interests and personality, which is what we essentially connect with.

The takeaway here is that inhabited space is a setting for conversation between the inhabitants, the geometry, the void it encloses that is filled with objects, textures and colours. It is a language with infinite possibilities. And the only rule is to create an ambiance that pleases you emotionally and tie all the details in the same language.