Museum Wormianum

The frontispiece engraving accompanying Ole Worm’s Museum Wormianum (1655) provides an abundance of clues to the contents of Sir Thomas Browne's own ‘Cabinet of Curiosities’. 

The Danish physician Ole Worm (1588-1654) like Browne, was a physician, a philosopher of Nature and antiquarian. In Worm's museum zoological, botanical and mineral items, as well as scientific instruments were exhibited. It even included a wheel-operated automaton with flexible limbs which reputedly could move around and pick up objects.

Worm’s objective in creating a collection of ‘the most varied and beautiful phenomena of nature‘ is explained  in a letter of his dating from 1639 -

‘As to the display of curiosities in my museum, I have not yet completed it. I have collected various things on my journeys abroad, and from India and other very remote places I have been brought various things […] that I conserve well with the goal of, along with a short presentation of the various things’ history, also being able to present my audience with the things themselves to touch with their own hands and to see with their own eyes, so that they may themselves … acquire a more intimate knowledge of them all.’ [1]

An example of Ole Worm’s modern, empirical thinking occurs in his asserting in 1638 that the unicorn did not exist and that alleged unicorn horns were simply those from the narwhal.

Sir Thomas Browne was also skeptical of the  existence of the unicorn and devoted a chapter in his encyclopaedia Pseudodoxia Epidemica (1646-72) upon the topic. He acknowledges Worm's judgement and informs his reader that several other creatures other than the mythic unicorn possess a horn. [2] 

Browne's eldest son, Edward Browne (1644-1708) recollecting a 'cabinet of curiosities' seen at a library in Amsterdam noted-

There are also three Unicorns Horns, little differing in length; the longest being five foot and a half:... These were of the Sea-Unicorn, or the Horn or long wreathed Tooth of some Sea-Animal much like it, taken in the Northern Seas; of which I have seen many, both in Public Repositories, and in Private Hands.  My honoured Father Sir T. B. hath also a piece of this sort of Unicorns Horn burnt black, out of the Emperor of Russia's Repository, given him by Dr. Arthur Dee, who was Son to Dr. John Dee, and also Physician to the Emperor of Russia, when his Chambers were burned, in which he preserved his Curiosities. [3]

Suspended from the ceiling of Worm’s museum there can be seen with its fearsome teeth, a Lupus Marinus or Sea-wolf fish. Like Worm, Browne lived close to the North Sea and took a great interest in the strange creatures of deep found there, writing in a letter -

'Lupus Marinus you mention upon a handsome experiment but I find it not in the catalogue. This Lupus Marinus or Lycostomus is often taken by our seamen which fish for cods. I have had divers brought me, they hang up in many houses in Yarmouth'. [4]

In discussion of stones found in the heads of toads Browne states that such stones were-

'found to be taken not out of Toads heads, but out of a Fishes mouth, being handsomely contrived out of the teeth of the Lupus Marinus, a Fish often taken in our Northern Seas, as was publicly declared by an eminent and Learned Physician. [5]

In all probability both the ‘Learned Physician’ and the catalogue  Browne alludes to are the Danish physician Ole Worm and the catalogue of Museum Wormianum. The 1711 Sales Auction Catalogue of Thomas Browne and his son Edward's libraries lists an edition of Worm’s Museum Wormianum (1655) as once in the learned Norwich physician's library. [6] Its tempting to speculate that an exchange of correspondence, now long lost may have existed between the two seventeenth century Natural Philosophers having so much in common with each other.

Ole Worm’s museum is named in the adress to an unknown correspondent of Browne's extraordinary Museum Clausum (1684)

with many thanks I return that noble Catalogue of Books, Rarities and Singularities of Art and Nature, which you were pleased to communicate unto me. There are many Collections of this kind in Europe. And, besides the printed accounts of the Musæum Aldrovandi, Calceolarianum, Moscardi, Wormianum; an

Browne's inventory of lost, rumoured and imagined books, paintings and objects is an Ur-text of Magical Realism. While the titles of its 'rare books' appeal primarily to the scholar, those of 'rare paintings' many of exotic locations and dramatic events in the Bible and ancient world provide clues to Browne's taste and aesthetic in paintings. 

The objects listed in Museum Clausum are intriguing if not bizarre. Once more stones in creature's heads are encountered. Its only through a familiarity with alchemical symbolism that any interpretative sense  can be made of this curio-

Item 7: A noble stone or Quandros taken out of the head of a Vulture. [7]

Browne seems to be highly skeptical and even mocking claims made by some collectors of the contents of their  'Cabinet of Rarities' when including in his museum-

Item 21: 'A neat Crucifix made out of the cross Bone of  a Frog's Head'.

Item 23 : 'Batrachmyomachia, or the Homerican Battle between Frog's and Mice, neatly described upon the Chizel Bone of a large Pike's Jaw.

The distinguished Browne scholar C.A. Patrides concurs with and amplifies my apprehension of the artistic agenda of  Museum Clausum stating -

'Most of the items are so utterly and absolutely improbable that it is positively impossible to mistake their burden. It is more likely indeed, that Browne endeavoured not to obscure but to underline the inherent absurdity. In this respect, the context he provides for the collection argues an effort to call attention to yet another "vulgar error" of his time, the indiscriminate accumulation of "rarities" by scientists who should have displayed less virtuosity and more judgement.' [8]

Sadly, the fate of a large percentage of Browne’s museum, in particular its birds (he was a keen bird fancier and at one time or another kept an owl, Golden Eagle, Bittern and ostrich some of which were preserved through taxidermy) was sealed in 1667 when Norwich's civic authorities ordered their destruction. The act was justified as a precautionary measure, just in case its exhibits were a potential harbinger of disease in the wake of the Plague which had recently decimated the City's population.

Nevertheless, from scattered statements in Browne's collected 'Notes and Letters on the Natural history of Norfolk, more especially on the Birds and Fishes' (1902) its possible to identify a few items once on display in his museum. Like Worm’s museum, large-size creatures may have been suspended from its ceiling including a pelican, for Browne writes -

An onocrotalus, or pelican, shot upon Horsey Fen, May 22, 1663, which stuffed and cleansed, I yet retain'  and elsewhere,  'I have one hanged up in my house which was shot in a fen'. [9]

There may also have been a sword-fish's head on display in Browne's museum for he states- 

'Xiphias or gladius piscis or sword fish we have in our seas. I have the head of one which was taken not long ago entangled  in the Herring nets, the sword above 2 foot in length'. [10]

There is at present until the end of July this year, a free exhibition at the Royal College of Physicians in London of various artefacts associated with the life and times of Sir Thomas Browne, billed as his 'curious collection' and his 'curious approach to the world'.

The word 'curious' is often applied in descriptions of the physician-philosopher, however this may lead to some confusion if perceived to be exclusively a psychological or characteristic trait, when in his own account of himself he states- 

'I am of a constitution so general, that it consorts, and sympathizeth with all things; I have no antipathy, or rather Idiosyncrasy, in diet, humour, air, anything'.[11]

Not that Browne isn't curious of course, but because of the possibility of misrepresentation, the word 'curious' covering a wide spectrum, a preciser and less ambiguous word to describe Browne other than the currently hard-working word 'curious' to my mind is 'enquiring'.

By all reports the exhibition at the Royal College of Physicians doesn't have quite the same volume of artefacts or the meticulous attention to detail as the fantastic reconstruction by the American photographer and artist Rosamund Purcell (b. 1942). Such disparities reflect how great a widening gap there is between mainland Europe and Britain in the value and appreciation of cultural heritage. Sir Thomas Browne remains an undiscovered continent in the understanding of the British scientific revolution, not least to the British themselves. The Royal College of Physician's exhibition is to be applauded for going some way in amending this deficit.

 Notes

[1] Victoria and Albert Museum blog entry May 13 2015
[2]  Of Unicorn's horn  Pseudodoxia Epidemica Book 3 chapter 23.
[3] An Account of several travels through a great part of Germany by Edward Browne 1677
[4] Notes and Letters on the Natural history of Norfolk Jarrold and Sons 1902
[5] Ibid.
[6] 1711 Sales Catalogue page 18 no. 55

[7]  Martin Ruland's Dictionary of Alchemy (1612), a book once owned by Browne (Sales Catalogue page 22 no.119) defines a Quandros as -  'a Stone or Jewel which is found in the brain and head of the Vulture, and is said to be of a bright white colour. It fills the breasts with milk, and is said to be a safeguard against dangerous accidents'.
[8] "The Best Part of Nothing", Sir Thomas Browne and the Strategy of Indirection. C.A. Patrides Included in 'Approaches to Sir Thomas Browne: the Ann Arbor Tercentenary Lectures and Essays edited C.A. Patrides University of Misouri Press 1982 

[9] Notes and Letters on the Natural history of Norfolk Jarrold and Sons 1902
[10] ibid.
[11] Religio Medici Part 2 :1

Peter Rodulfo's 'Night Sea Voyage' triptych.

The British artist Peter Rodulfo's Testing the Water conjures a numinous moment. In a lugubrious twilight at a sea-side pier, a solitary saxophonist plays whilst a close encounter occurs. An ethereal, crab-faced creature raises a glass to the viewer whilst dipping its toe into water.

Testing the Water (oil on canvas) is one of a sequence of three paintings, technically known as a triptych, which Rodulfo completed during the late autumn/early winter of 2015. They are each connected in their imagery with the ‘Night Sea Voyage’ of ancient mythology and alchemy. Rodulfo’s Testing the Water may be interpreted as representing the embarkation point of a 'Night Sea Voyage’.

Testing the Water is set at a sea-side pier and fun-fair in twilight. The silhouetted figure of a solitary saxophonist stands high upon the pier. A sea-horse surfaces from the lapping waves, perhaps attracted by its sound. The pier's fore-shortened perspective draws the eye towards two fairground booths, both with brightly-lit interiors which intrigue upon the entertainment within. The pier terminates in a sloped ramp suitable for embarkation. In the background the architectural structure of a roller-coaster girder decorated in candy coloured peppermint and pink, along with a golden neon crab illumination, while in the foreground seaweed, a pair of menacing pincers and a herring can be seen. Centre-field, a convivial, but also slightly scary crab-faced creature stares with a penetrating gaze towards the viewer, while dipping a toe into water. Raising a wine glass, bubbles escape from its cavernous, rosy-red mouth.

Contrasting areas of colour tonality can be seen in each quarter of Rodulfo’s painting. Its top right features decorative peppermint green, light raspberry and golden hues. In its bottom right, primary colours are dominant. Its sea is mostly turquoise, while its sky consists of broad washes of very dark and muted tones. There are also some intriguing objects to view including a large rattle-like cog, horned tubing and a long strip in blue which unravels in a swirl from background into foreground.

With its square dimensions Testing the Water (90 x 90 cm) holds favourable comparison to well-designed 60's and 70's pop and rock album art-work which introduced artists of the calibre of Sir Peter Blake, Mati Klarwen and Storm Thorgerson, among others, to a wide and discerning audience. Music itself plays a big part in Rodulfo’s leisure-hours. After a long day spent in the studio he enjoys listening to music from a wide-variety of genres and performers, including Lou Reed, Dr John and the Argentinian composer Oswald Golijov, to name but a few.

The music instrument the saxophone is featured in Testing the Water. One of Belgium’s greatest gifts to music, Adolphe Sax’s 1846 invention of a hybrid woodwind and brass instrument is effectively a brass-instrument played with a wood-wind reed, producing a new aural tonality, powerful, sometimes slinky and velvety timbre, capable of great agility. The saxophone is commonly associated with, but not restricted to the genre of jazz. Notable recent works for saxophone include the American composer Philip Glass’s Concerto for Saxophone Quartet (1995) in which all four members of the saxophone family (soprano, alto, tenor and bass) can be heard weaving away in polyphonic minimalist delight with each other in music which is highly evocative in feelings associated with embarkation. [1] There's also a lively Concerto for Saxophone (1993) by the composer Michael Torke b. 1961 which is worth hearing as well.

Remembering all interpretations to be subjective, Testing the Water may be heard as an expressive aural soundscape to the receptive viewer’s inner ear. The sounds of a lapping tide, perhaps with a ship's fog-horn in the distance, a saxophone softly playing, the whirr and cries from fairground rides, even the menacing click of lobster claws and air-bubbles escaping from a vocal larynx can all be heard with an imaginative inner ear.

Another fitting musical back-drop to Rodulfo's canvas can be heard in the ambient electronic music of the composer Edgar Froese’s aptly entitled Mysterious Semblance at the Strand of Nightmares. [2]

Because crustacean imagery occurs no less than three times in Testing the Water its worthwhile exploring symbolism relating to the crab in depth. There’s a certain frisson between the idealized fair-ground image of a golden neon crab and the stark reality of encountering a hard-gazing crab-faced creature, for example in Rodulfo’s painting, as well as a hint of a momento mori in the form of a  'Death's Head'  in its crab-face symbolism. Indeed the word 'cancer' has long been used to describe a malignant tumour affecting the body. But before embarking upon any analysis of cancerian symbolism in Testing the Water, its imperative to be mindful of what Rodulfo himself states of the crab-figure in his painting-

".... of course when the crab appeared I was aware someone would interpret it astrologically, that was not my intent; I have no interest in astrology. As with most of my imagery I simply arrived at a point in the painting when something crab shaped was required to balance the structure. For me when working on imaginative pieces, the paintings are abstract and I only consider the formal structure, tonal relationships, colour and so on.... The imagery is a bi product of that process. I am interested to see what imagery comes out of the process, but I do not whilst working attach any meaning to it. [3]

Although Rodulfo himself has no interest in astrology, nevertheless, poets, artists and composers when engaged in their exploration of the unconscious psyche invariably encounter archetypal imagery which can be elaborated upon; as the psychologist C.G. Jung recognised, succinctly noting of Cancer’s symbolism -

In astrology, Cancer is a feminine and watery sign, and the summer solstice takes place in it. In Propertius it makes a sinister appearance. ‘Fear thou the ill-omened back of the eight-footed crab'. De Grubernatis says, 'the crab... causes now the death of the solar hero and now that of the monster'. As De Grubernatis thinks, the crab stands now for the sun and now for the moon, according to whether it goes backwards or forwards. [4]

In ancient mythology the Greek  historian Callisthenes in his Alexander Romance relates how crabs dragged Alexander's ships down into the sea. In the folk-tales of the Indian Sanskrit known as the Panchatantra, written circa 300 BCE  there is a tale (Bk.V, 2) of how a mother in order to protect her son from evil and bad luck, gives him a crab which saves his life through killing a black snake. It was a giant crab which bit Heracles in his fight with the many-headed hydra monster. Hercules crushed the crab underfoot and continued with his labour. The goddess Hera placed the crab in the night-sky for its efforts.

Herakles and the Hydra. Etruscan Water Jar circa 525 BCE

Hubble Space Telescope mosaic image of the Crab Nebula

In astronomy the Crab nebula is the remnant of a super-nova star and pulsar wind nebula, first observed and recorded by Chinese astronomers in 1054 CE.

In essence Testing the Water captures the numinous or transcendent moment, those not easily defined moments in the spiritual dimension of life in which an awareness of one's existence in space and time, the mystery of being, and the secret, internal workings within the psyche happen.

Just as avian imagery occurs in Rodulfo's As the Elephant Laughed, (one of the most beautiful and cheerful of all his paintings) in which a blackbird intrudes into the frame, allusive to the cyclical return of darkness, and the nigredo stage of alchemy, so too in the sombre atmosphere of Testing the Water, avian imagery is utilized to modulate the mood-music of the canvas. The head of a smiling duck appears apparition-like in its sunset cloudscape; and in completely polarised symbolism to the avian imagery of Laughing Elephant, it hints of an eventual return of  day, light and the albedo stage of alchemy.

Testing the Water is a painting capable of challenging its viewer as to how they personally respond whenever meeting an unfamiliar face in daily life, or in the momentary awareness of being in the presence of unknown psychic phenomenon; with its intense stare it provokes and challenges the dark mistrust, fear and even hatred of 'the other'  lurking asleep, deep within us all. Its a painting which can even stimulate thought in a receptive viewer as to how they personally would react if ever experiencing a close encounter with an alien or extra-terrestrial life-form.

Collectively, Rodulfo’s ‘Night Sea Voyage’ triptych corresponds on a mundane level to the nautical terminology of embarkation, passage and docking in a sea-voyage. Not only is each painting in the triptych artistically realised with seemingly casual, yet in fact consummate brushwork and draughtsmanship but also highlights different facets of Rodulfo’s artistic persona; in his Testing the Water  its the artist's well-disciplined mystical and esoteric inclinations which are given full expression. The persona of the imaginative inventor of bizarre contraptions and hybrid organic and inorganic forms is prominent in Night Passage, while the persona of the witty and jesting commentator is at large in Dry Dock, both of which are discussed in the following commentary. But first, its useful to elaborate upon the symbolic meaning of the 'Night Sea Voyage' itself.

In many accounts of the 'Night Sea Voyage' in world mythology, comparative religion and esoteric literature, the hero travels, often in the belly of a beast or in a vessel (a boat, an ark or casket) across a dark, primordial sea, following the unseen course of the sun after it sets in the west, and later magically reappears in the east.

The night-sea is a boundary which adventurers and heroes are usually reluctant to cross because it is dark and populated with all the monsters that the unconscious can conjure. Night sea voyages of mythology often involve a dragon or a giant fish, such as the Biblical story of Jonah and whale. In any case, those who embark upon the journey undergo a temporary death in anticipation of a rebirth or renewal. The night sea journey is said to take the individual back to their original self, into a sea of possibility and one’s greater and deeper being.

The 'Night Sea Voyage' involves the combination of two dynamic symbols of the unknown, namely, night and the sea. The sea remains a sometimes hostile, not totally explored and wild aspect of nature; its also one of the few expanses of total darkness left in urban lives. To go into the night is to return to a state of indeterminacy and to intermingle with nightmares, monsters and ‘black thoughts’. Night is a potent image of the unconscious and in the darkness of sleep the unconscious psyche is set free. Night is associated with danger and with the fear of the unknown, not least because darkness obstructs sight, a major sensory organ. Night-time is also associated with vulnerability and human physical survival, as well as dreams and the unexpected. Like all symbols, night contains near inexhaustible meanings.

The  starry night-sky has been described as the world’s oldest picture-book. An understanding of  the constellations of the night sky until relatively recent times, was essential to navigate seas and oceans in order to arrive at one's chosen destination. The reason why the night-sky is a picture-book crowded with stories representing the myths of gods and animals in its constellations is explained by C.G.Jung thus-

As we all know, science began with the stars, and mankind discovered in the dominants of the unconscious, the "gods", as well as the curious psychological qualities of the zodiac: a complete projected theory of human character. Astrology is a primordial experience similar to alchemy. Such projections repeat themselves whenever man tries to explore an empty darkness and involuntary fills it with living form.  [5]

According to the psychologist C.G. Jung the hero returns from the night sea-journey in better shape for the tasks of life. The night sea journey is a kind of descensus ad inferos -a descent into Hades and a journey to the land of ghosts somewhere beyond this world, beyond consciousness, hence an immersion in the unconscious. [6] The importance of the moon as the ruling luminary of night and the significance of night is defined by C.G. Jung this-

Luna is really the mother of the sun, which means, psychologically, that the unconscious is pregnant with consciousness and gives birth to it. It is night, which is older than day.  [7]

Because it occurs during the night, its not so much the seeing and sighting of exotic lands or the viewing of weird creatures as much as hearing disturbing sounds such as the squeak and gibber of departed souls, or the cries and calls of luring sirens and unknown monsters on islands sailed past when on the Night Sea voyage. Strange sounds blown on the wind, sometimes heard across vast distances upon the open sea as mere whispers, at other times in deafening volume; in particular, when freak acoustics occur, heard sailing past cliff and rock formations, caves, eddies and whirl-pools, inducing fear, trembling and wonder in the sailor’s imagination.

Rodulfo’s Night Passage (80 x 100 cm) was begun in 2012 and completed in late 2015. In a silvery-blue moonlight, a Night Sea voyage is in full motion. The viewer is taken aboard an extraordinary form of transport, a hybrid combination of ferry, air-bus and taxi which abounds with organic and bizarre mechanical forms with some very curious travelling passengers, including an octopus and a giant shrimp. On its pod-like floor there's frozen, protozoan fossils. Large, grinning skates hover upon its ceiling vault. A pair of  late-night lovers can be seen in a wing-mirror. Night Passage exudes an unusual atmosphere, one which paradoxically floats somewhere between every-day commuting and a futuristic fantasy.

In  the third in sequence of Rodulfo’s 'Night Sea Voyage’ triptych, the night sea voyage  is high and dry, quite literally. In a humorous variation upon the ‘Ship of Fools’ allegory which originates from the ancient Greek philosopher Plato's The Republic (Book 6) where the allegory of a ship with a dysfunctional crew is discussed in relationship to government, Rodulfo's Dry Dock (51 x 76 cm) is a scene based upon the nautical dilemma of going aground.  A tattered and rusty ship is beached on dry land. An unconcerned atmosphere of 'Crisis, what crisis?’ pervades its crew members who carry on with their various preoccupations irregardless. But whether they're waiting for a rare, exceptional high tide in order to float and set sail once more, or simply carrying on with life, irregardless of setting sail once more, is not known. In the background a ship can be spotted which clearly is afloat, the wind billows its sails. Dry Dock is a painting best enjoyed for its typical Rodulphian humour, without intensely scrutinizing the canvas for any hidden, philosophical 'meanings'.

In conclusion, the night sea journey may be interpreted as none other than the fragile vessel of the psyche successfully navigating the uncharted waters of the unconscious imagination, and, if surviving the perils of the deep, returning to port with new insights and treasures. Rodulfo’s art is one such treasure. With their sophisticated technique, numinous subject-matter,  display of extraordinary imagination and humour, Peter Rodulfo’s Testing the Water and Night Passage are exemplary of the aesthetics of North Sea magical realism and significant navigational buoys which confirm the art-movement as well-worthy of continued admiration and study.

Notes
[1] Link to Philip Glass - Saxophone Quartet
[2] Link to Mysterious Semblance at the Strand of Nightmares
[3] Email correspondence from the artist.
[4] Carl Jung Collected Works Vol. 9 Part 1 Para. 605:
Another translation of the Elegies of Propertius reads - 'Your dread must be the ominous sign of the eight-legged crab'.  Book 4:1: line 150
[5]  Carl Jung C. W. vol 14 para. 346
[6] CW 16 par. 455
[7] CW 14 : 219

 In Memorium of a Hawthorn and Redwood tree, long seen and enjoyed from my flat's window and now no more.