Curio Cabinet / Art Curio

This fanciful object was once a common household item…unfortunately for the ocean. The picture above shows a black glass vessel. It’s rounded at the top and has a tiered base. This object is actually a whale oil lamp used to illuminate homes. Whale oil has been used for millennia for various purposes, mostly for lighting. Starting in the 19th century, however, whale oil began to have wider commercial and industrial applications, primarily as a lubricant that could tolerate extreme temperatures. Whale oil was used well into the 20th century, including in the manufacture of nitroglycerin, soap, and even margarine. Among whale oils, the type refined from sperm whale blubber was considered the best, particularly as an illuminant. Unlike other oils, sperm oil produced a smokeless, odorless flame and was used in large quantities in lighthouses. For these qualities, its versatility and its convenience, whale oil continued to be used long after petroleum-based fuels became widely available. Of course, none of this was particularly convenient for the whales themselves. Today, many laws prohibit whale oil and other whale products except under specific circumstances. Who needs lamps in the middle of the ocean anyway?

 
Whale Oil Lamp, 1830-40, Pressed and free-blown glass, 11.56 in. (29.4 cm), The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York City, New York

 
[Image credit & copyright: Whale Oil Lamp, Gift of Dr. Michael Heidelberger, in memory of Nina T. Heidelberger, 1982. The Metropolitan Museum of Art, Public Domain.

It was a fashion item that was shawl to please! Though mostly forgotten now, a fichu was once an indispensable part of a woman’s wardrobe throughout much of Europe in the 18th century. The picture above shows a black, triangular garment. It’s adorned with floral lace on transparent silk. A fichu was a shawl with a specific purpose. It could either be square and folded in half or made in a triangular shape, but either way, they were meant to go around the neck and come together at the front to cover the neckline. This was partly for warmth and partly for modesty, as the dresses of the 18th century and the Regency era had lower necklines than the times directly before or after. Triangular fichus were sometimes made with a rounded curve on the inside to better conform to the shape of the neck. Shawls and scarves are still worn today, of course, but what set the fichu apart was the distinct purpose it served. When fashions changed and necklines rose, the fichu fell out of favor. Spare a tissue for the fichu.

 
Fichu, 19th century, Silk, The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York City, New York

 
[Image credit & copyright: The Metropolitan Museum of Art, Bequest of Emma T. Gary, 1934. Public Domain.

It’s a view so nice, he painted it thrice. The piece above, Two Men Contemplating the Moon, depicts two men on a path looking toward the horizon, where an orange moon is framed by tree branches. It was painted by Caspar David Friedrich, one of the most important figures in the German Romantic movement. His works explore the connection between nature and the inner self, and are famous for their ability to convey emotion, even without showing subjects’ faces. Many of his paintings are visual allegories where human figures stand in contemplation of an expressive landscape, and the moon appears as a focal point in several of them. In the piece above, Friedrich painted two figures, one of which is likely himself while the other is his disciple, August Heinrich. Friedrich created three iterations of the painting, with the second two coming after Heinrich’s death. It’s not hard to imagine the sadness that Friedrich was likely contemplating as he painted the same scene again and again.

 
Two Men Contemplating the Moon, Caspar David Friedrich (1774–1840), ca. 1825–30, Oil on canvas, 13.75 x 17.25 in. (34.9 x 43.8 cm.), The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York City, New York

 
[Image credit & copyright: Caspar David Friedrich, The Metropolitan Museum of Art, Wrightsman Fund, 2000. Public Domain.

It’s a terrible habit—if only it didn’t inspire such romance. Tobacco made its way into Japan in the 16th century, and it has been a source of inspiration and consternation ever since. The piece above, Tobacco Pouch and Pipe by Kubo Shunman shows a Japanese-style smoking pipe and an elaborately-embroidered pouch with green, red, and yellow floral designs. Above the items is Japanese text written in vertical lines. Tobacco is native to the Americas, and therefore was unknown to Asian cultures until it was introduced by European traders. The Japanese were first exposed to the plant by Portuguese traders, and the habit of smoking quickly became popular. There were attempts by the Japanese government to ban its use, but they were unsuccessful. Tobacco cultivation soon became an established industry in Japan and the plant was introduced to Korea by Japanese traders around the same time. The piece above doesn’t just depict tobacco paraphernalia but contains a poem that expresses an appreciation for smoking. Who knows if the artist’s sentiments would be the same if he’d had modern knowledge of how dangerous tobacco is.

 
Tobacco Pouch and Pipe, Kubo Shunman (1757–1820), 1813, Woodblock print (surimono); ink and color on paper, 7.87 x 7.12 in. (20 x 18.1 cm.), The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York City, New York

 
[Image credit & copyright: Kubo Shunman, The Metropolitan Museum of Art. H. O. Havemeyer Collection, Bequest of Mrs. H. O. Havemeyer, 1929. Public Domain.]

Their lips are sealed, but their outfits speak for themselves! Mummers are performers who dress in outrageous costumes and put on performances during festivals, parades, and other celebratory events, all without speaking a word. The illustration above shows three individuals in masks and costumes. The person on the left is covered in leaves, the person in the middle is wearing feathers, and the person on the right is a Mummer, wearing a flowing robe. Mummers have been entertaining people in silence since the time of the ancient Greeks. Their performances can be anything from playing instruments to putting on a type of pantomime called a mummer’s play. Mummer’s play can also refer to a festival held by mummers, as was popular in England for centuries. The tradition of mummers still survives around the world, even in the U.S., with the most prominent event being the Philadelphia Mummers Parade, which is held every year. Just remember, if you hear a mummer murmur, they’re probably not a real mummer.

 
An Old Mummer Addressing a Couple Wearing Costumes, plate 10 from "The Masquerades", Workshop of Jacques de Gheyn II (1565–1629), c. 1595–96, Engraving, 9.37 × 6.62 in. (23.8 × 16.9 cm.)

 
[Image credit & copyright: An Old Mummer Addressing a Couple Wearing Costumes, The Metropolitan Museum of Art, The Elisha Whittelsey Collection, The Elisha Whittelsey Fund, 1949. Public Domain.

How much horsepower does it have? Well, that depends on how many horses are pulling. Phaetons were once the go-to carriage for many Victorians, and it wasn’t just a matter of style. The piece above depicts a 4-wheeled carriage against an empty, gray background. The body of the carriage is black with green trim. Long before automobiles came on the scene, carriages like phaetons gave riders freedom akin to driving a modern vehicle. Phaetons were owner-driven carriages with up to two seats, meaning that there was no separate driver’s seat. Thus, most riders drove themselves. While there were other owner-driven carriages, phaetons set themselves apart in two major ways. One was that having four large wheels and a light body suspended on springs made for a much safer and more comfortable ride. Another was that they were stylish and not fit for hauling luggage, making them fashionable rides for image-conscious Victorians. “Phaeton,” by the way, comes from the name Phaethon, son of the Greek god of the sun, Helios. Phaethon nearly set fire to the world after losing control of his father’s chariot. One can only hope the Victorians were better drivers.

 
Design for 4 seat Phaeton, no top, no. 3566, Brewster & Co., 1880, Pen and black ink, watercolor and gouache with gum arabic, 7 x 9.25 in. (17.8 x 23.5 cm.), The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York City, New York

 
[Image credit & copyright: Brewster & Co. (American, New York), The Metropolitan Museum of Art, Gift of William Brewster, 1923. Public Domain.

This fellow is certainly brimming with confidence. Tricorne hats were once an indispensable part of a person’s outfit, and their unique appearance once served a practical purpose. The piece above is a white, porcelain figurine of a man. The man is wearing a tricorne hat and a jacket draped over his torso. Tricorn hats actually got their start as hats with round brims, but people started folding and pinning the sides up for a number of reasons. One was that, as larger and larger wigs became popular in the 17th century, people had to pin up the brim (also known as cocking) to show off their wigs. Then, there were soldiers on the battlefield who pinned up their brims when it rained to channel the water out and away from their faces. Eventually, hats with three sections of the brim folded up became popular with or without wigs and on or off the battlefield. Hats with only two folds, called bicornes, were also fashionable at times, and both types were sometimes called “cocked hats.” Hats off to the creative fashionistas of the past.

 
Henry Woodward, After a mezzotint by James McArdell (1729–1765), 1750, Soft-paste porcelain, 10.68 × 4.5 × 5.37 in. (27.1 × 11.4 × 13.7 cm.), The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York City, New York

 
[Image credit & copyright: Factory Bow Porcelain Factory British, after a mezzotint by James McArdell Irish, after a composition by Francis Hayman British, 1750. The Metropolitan Museum of Art, Gift of Irwin Untermyer, 1964. Public Domain.]

Well, this is quite the welcoming committee. In ancient Mesopotamia, mythical creatures called lamassu guarded the gates of Assyrian cities and palaces, and their presence was for more than just decoration. The piece above is a sculpture of a creature with the body of a winged bull and the face of a bearded man. It is made out of bronze and is standing on a thin base. The lamassu could have the body of a bull or a lion, and they were almost always depicted with elaborate crowns and headpieces. They stood in pairs at the sides of city or palace gates. Typically carved out of large, single pieces of stone, the lamassu were considered guardian creatures and were also a conspicuous display of a king’s wealth and power due to their enormous stature and intricate carving. Bronze statues of lamassu were also used as indoor decorations. One peculiar lamassu feature is that they were sometimes carved with five legs so that they looked like they were mid-stride when viewed from the side. That doesn’t sound anatomically correct, but who’s to say when it comes to a 3,000 year-old mythical animal?

 
Human-headed winged bull, Second half of 19th century, Bronze, 6.68 in. x 6.68 in. (17 × 17 cm.), The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York City, New York

 
[Image credit & copyright: The Metropolitan Museum of Art. Henrietta and Christopher McCall Collection, Purchase, Bequest of Henrie Jo Barth, and Museum Acquisitions and Josephine Lois Berger-Nadler Endowment Funds, 2023. Public Domain.]

Is it a unicorn or a dragon? A little of both, really. The kirin, also known as qilin in Chinese and girin in Korean, is a mythical beast that’s closer to reality than one would think. The piece above is an ivory figurine depicting a horse-like creature with a horn and scales, looking upward with its mouth open. While this particular piece is Japanese, the same beast is found in several cultures. In Japan, the kirin is often depicted as having one horn, like the European unicorn. In Chinese and Korean depictions, the qilin or girin is depicted with two horns or antlers. Most versions have the body of a deer, the tail of an ox, and the head and scales of a dragon. Some say that kirins only appear during times of peace, and that they’re so careful not to harm other creatures that they walk without even stepping on insects or blades of grass. Although the creature is entirely mythical, it has a namesake in the real world. In Japan and Korea, kirin and girin are the words used for “giraffe.” If any animal looks otherworldly enough to be named after a fantastical beast, giraffes would be it!

 
Kirin (Mythical Chimera), Edo period (1615–1868), Ivory, 2.87 in. (7.3 cm.), The Metropolitan Museum of Art

 
[Image credit & copyright: The Metropolitan Museum of Art, Gift of Mrs. Russell Sage, 1910. Public Domain.]

If you want to impress your Iron Age friends, you need one of these bad boys. Torcs (also spelled torques) are a kind of rigid necklace or neck ring. They were commonly worn by Celts throughout western Europe from around 1200 BCE to 550 BCE, but they weren’t all made from solid gold. The photo above shows a round, golden torc necklace. The body of the torc is twisted into an ornamental design and the ends are rolled to create a rounded point. Torcs were a symbol of wealth and social status amongst the Celts, depending on the materials used and the complexity of the design. Torcs could be made of any metal familiar to Iron Age jewelers, including silver, bronze, and copper, and they often featured etched details depicting mythical beings. They also served as a way of safekeeping and keeping track of wealth. Some torcs of solid gold could weigh several pounds, and torcs are often found in Celtic burial sites. The dead don’t speak, but they can still torc.

 
Gold Neck Ring, Celtic, 6th–4th century BCE, Gold, 7.5 x 7.5 x .5 in. (19 x 19.1 x 1.2 cm.), The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York City, New York

 
[Image credit & copyright: The Metropolitan Museum of Art, Purchase, 2005 Benefit Fund, Rogers Fund, Audrey Love Charitable Foundation Gift, and Gifts of J. Pierpont Morgan and George Blumenthal and Fletcher Fund, by exchange, 2005. Public Domain.

It’s almost too realistic to be a painting, but too otherworldly to be a photograph. American artist Frederic Edwin Church debuted this piece in 1859, and it caused quite a sensation in its time. The piece above, Heart of the Andes, depicts a lush, green forest at the foothills of a mountain range. A river and a waterfall cuts through the landscape in the foreground, and several people are gathered near a cross to the left. Church was one of the most famous painters in the U.S. during the 1800s, and was known for paintings that showcased scenery from his many travels. The Heart of the Andes was painted in Ecuador during one of his trips to South America, and the ten-foot painting was so captivating that around 13,000 people per month paid a quarter just to look at it. The painting is considered his magnum opus, and it’s easy to see why. Besides, 25 cents is a whole lot cheaper than traveling to the Andes yourself!

 
Heart of the Andes, Frederic Edwin Church (1826–1900), 1859, Oil on canvas, 66.12 x 120.18 in. (168 x 302.9 cm.),

 
[Image credit & copyright: Frederic Edwin Church (American, Hartford, Connecticut 1826–1900 New York), The Metropolitan Museum of Art. Bequest of Margaret E. Dows, 1909. Public Domain.]

Are you fluent in fans? Ornate fans have been used for centuries by wealthy ladies to look and keep cool. It has even been claimed that some women used them as a clandestine way to communicate. The picture above shows a silk and ivory folding fan in its open state. The fan is gold-colored and features intricate floral embroidery. Serving as a fashion statement, a show of wealth, and simply a means to stay cool, fans were an indispensable part of an 18th-century lady’s wardrobe. They were important conversation pieces at high society parties and social gatherings, often featuring luxe fabrics or even gemstones. However, some myths began to develop around the mystique of the versatile accessory, claiming that there was a secret “language” of fans used to send messages to lovers on the sly. For example, presenting a closed fan supposedly meant “Do you love me?” while drawing it across the cheek meant “I love you.” The “language” was really invented by a fan maker to boost sales, and there’s no evidence that anyone ever used the codes, but it allowed the fan to maintain an allure that persists to this day. Today, the main thing a fan conveys is, “Someone needs to turn on the air conditioner.”

 
Fan, 18th century, Silk, ivory, Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York City, New York

 
[Image credit & copyright: The Metropolitan Museum of Art, Gift of Miss Agnes Miles Carpenter, 1955. Public Domain.

Make some noise for the noise makers! Crickets have been kept as pets in China for over 1,000 years, and they often have flashy abodes. The photo above shows a gourd with its top removed and replaced with a carved jade lid. The gourd is sitting on a metal stand with three legs. In China, crickets have been popular pets for over a millennium, not just for their singing but for their fighting prowess. In cricket fights, people stimulate the antenna of male crickets to make them agitated, then put them face-to-face. The fights usually consist of the crickets grappling and attempting to toss each other. Whichever cricket runs away from the fight first is the loser. Prized fighting crickets have often been kept in ornate cages, sometimes made from hollowed-out gourds. Appropriate, since the gourd has long been a symbol of good luck, and so has the sound of crickets chirping. Tell that to anyone who’s been stuck with a cricket in their house while trying to sleep.

 
Cricket Cage, 18th–19th century, Gourd, jade, 3.12 x 2.75 in. (7.9 x 7 cm.),The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York City, New York

 
[Image credit & copyright: The Metropolitan Museum of Art, Gift of George D. Pratt, 1928. Public Domain.]

Take a good look at this one. Throughout the ages, people have come up with all sorts of ways to express their love for one another, and for a time, eye miniatures were all the rage. The piece above is a painting of a person's left eye and part of an eyebrow in black and white. The eye is framed in a decorative case. Popular in France during the late 1700s, eye miniatures were a way for two people to privately express their affections, often in secret. In 1786, the Prince of Wales (the future George IV) received an eye miniature from Maria Fitzherbert, a Catholic widow who he shared a hidden romance with. The two married in a secret ceremony that was technically illegal under English law, since it would have removed the prince from the line of succession for marrying a Catholic. Though their on-and-off romance ultimately ended in disaster, upon his death, George IV was found with Fitzherbert's gift from decades before. It’s pretty impressive to maintain eye contact even in death!

 
Eye Miniature, British Painter (early 19th century),Ivory, .25 x .5 in. (.63 x 1.27 cm.), The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York City, New York

 
[Image credit & copyright:The Metropolitan Museum of Art, British Painter (early 19th century.) Gift of Mr. and Mrs. John W. Starr, 1954. Public Domain.]

It's important to keep yourself protected on the battlefield, but that doesn’t mean you can’t look good while doing it. Tsubas were sword guards used in ancient Japanese weaponry, and they were as much a fashion statement as a tool of war. The piece above is a round, gilded, plate-like object with a triangular hole in the middle. It’s decorated with images of chrysanthemum flowers and kanji characters. Often made of hard metals like iron, tsubas were practical adornments on swords which protected the wielder's hands. They were often ornately-decorated to denote a samurai's status and even identify what family he belonged to. The practice of creating elaborate tsuba designs reached its peak during the Edo Period, which lasted from the 17th century to the 19th century. Because the era was markedly more peaceful than those preceding it, samurai had more time to devote to leisure and the arts. There were also more opportunities to show off their status in social settings rather than on the battlefield, leading to more and more elaborate tsuba. High fashion is rarely so practical.

 
Sword Guard (Tsuba), 18th Century, Iron, gold, copper, 3.06 x 2.87 in. (7.8x 7.3 cm.), The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York City, New York

 
[Image credit & copyright: Sword Guard (Tsuba), Japanese, 18th century. The Metropolitan Museum of Art, The Howard Mansfield Collection, Gift of Howard Mansfield, 1936. Public Domain.

It's a grisly sight, but the real version was surely worse. The death of Hector Munro, a British cadet in India in the late 1700s, is forever remembered thanks to a sculpture depicting his harrowing final moments. The Death of Munrow depicts a man in a red military uniform with his head in the mouth of a large tiger. The man and the tiger are both situated on a stand labeled "The Death of Munrow." Hector Munro, whose last name is misspelled on the sculpture’s base, was just a 16-year-old cadet when he attended an expedition to Sangor Island. The island is located in Bengal, famed for its Bengal tigers, and the young man met his early demise thanks to one of the ferocious predators. The story eventually reached the ears of Tipu Sultan of Mysore, who hated the British and had a life-sized mechanical organ created depicting the death of the young cadet. After the British seized the organ in 1799, it was brought to Munro's homeland where it inspired the creation of this ceramic copy. Inspiration strikes at the most unexpected times, and so do tigers, much to Munro's misfortune.
 
The Death of Munrow, ca. 1820–30, Lead-glazed earthenware with enamel decoration, 11 × 14.37 × 5.75 in. (27.9 × 36.5 × 14.6 cm.), The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York City, New York

 
[Image credit & copyright: The Metropolitan Museum of Art, Purchase, Funds from various donors, The Charles E. Sampson Memorial Fund, and The Malcolm Hewitt Wiener Foundation Gift, in memory of George Munroe, 2016. Public Domain.

This is a collectible you can take to the grave—and it'll help you get there too. Cigarette manufacturers used to include cards featuring photographs and other images to promote their products, a practice that would be heavily frowned upon today. The piece above is a card with the photograph of a woman dressed like a 19th century soldier. On the upper right hand corner is text that reads, "Virginia Brights Cigarettes," and there is writing below the photo that reads, "867 - Belle Urquhart." Cigarette cards were once highly sought after collectibles, and the practice of collecting them is called "cartophily." The cards often featured photographs of famous actors of the time, though they could vary widely in theme and subject. Some could also be informative, with one side showing an image and the other explaining its significance. While cigarette cards remained popular until the first part of the 20th century, they were abandoned during WWII to ration materials. There’s no time for card collecting in a crisis.

 
Card 867, Belle Urquhart, from the Actors and Actresses series (N45, Type 2) for Virginia Brights Cigarettes, Issued by Allen & Ginter (American, Richmond, Virginia), ca. 1888, Albumen photograph, 2.75 x 1.375 in., The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York City, New York.

 
[Image credit & copyright: Issued by Allen & Ginter (American, Richmond, Virginia). The Metropolitan Museum of Art, The Jefferson R. Burdick Collection, Gift of Jefferson R. Burdick. Public Domain, Open Access.

With a view like this, who cares if you catch anything? 19th century American landscape painter Sanford Robinson Gifford painted this scene of the Haverstraw Bay near his hometown of Hudson, New York. Fittingly titled Haverstraw Bay, the piece shows a small boat in the foreground casting a long net. There are white-sailed boats along the horizon, beyond which are mountains. Gifford was a student of the Hudson River School, a small fraternity of artists based out of New York City. He originally trained to be a portrait painter at the behest of his parents, but moved on to his true passion, landscapes. His paintings often feature a naturalistic haze falling over a majestic landscape, with small human figures to convey an imposing sense of scale. Gifford also incorporated bodies of water into his paintings to faintly reflect featured landscapes. It’s easy to get lost in the haze of these calming works.

 
Haverstraw Bay, Sanford Robinson Gifford (1823–1880), 1868, Oil on canvas, 9.5 x 20 in. (24.2 x 50.8 cm.), The Cleveland Museum of Art, Cleveland, Ohio

 
[Image credit & copyright: The Cleveland Museum of Art, Sanford Robinson Gifford (American, 1823–1880), Bequest of Dr. Paul J. Vignos Jr. 2011.43. Public Domain.]

This week, as the weather continues to warm, we're looking back on some of our favorite springtime curios from years past.
 
If only the weather would catch up to the season. We’re one week into spring, but it’s still freezing cold in much of the U.S. Someone ought to have a word with whoever’s in charge—perhaps the subject of this statue. The piece above, Spring in the guise of Flora, depicts the Roman goddess Flora in marble. She is wearing a crown of flowers and is holding a large bouquet as she looks to her right with her head slightly tilted. Her torso rises from the statue’s pedestal, while her feet are visible at the base. The statue is one in a set of two by Italian sculptor Pietro Bernini. The other is meant to embody Priapus, a god of animal and vegetable fertility. Bernini was the father of another renowned sculptor, Lorenzo Bernini, who assisted him in making this sculpture. Artists who followed the Mannerist style, like Bernini, indulged in technical difficulty for its own sake more than their classical predecessors did. It’s no wonder, then, that they would go on to influence Baroque artists like Bernini’s own son. The artfully sculpted apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

 
Title, Pietro Bernini (1562-1629), 1616-17, Marble, 89.125 x 34.375 x 27.5 in. (226.4 x 87.3 x 69.9 cm) Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York City, New York

 
[Image credit & copyright: Pietro Bernini, Purchase, The Annenberg Foundation Gift, 1990, Metropolitan Museum of Art Open Access, Wikimedia Commons, Creative Commons CC0 1.0 Universal Public Domain Dedication

Holy cow...well, actually, holy bull. Apis was a bull deity in ancient Egypt that was associated with many different concepts, from fertility and grain production to death and the underworld. The piece above is a stone figurine of a bull with a broken disc on its head. The stone is green and the surface contains etched designs. While many Egyptian gods, which began to be worshipped around 5,000 years ago, were believed to take on the forms of animals, Apis only took on the form of a bull. Apis grew to be strongly associated with Ptah, a creator deity worshipped in Memphis. Black bulls with white, triangular markings on their heads were said to be favorites of Apis, and some of these “Apis bulls” were even given servants and lived lives of luxury in Egypt. In a ritual called The Running of Apis, the bulls were let loose in Memphis’s temple precinct, and their running symbolized fertilizing the land. When an Apis bull died, it was given an opulent burial and all of Egypt mourned. Don't try to take this bull by the horns, lest you incur the wrath of the gods.

 
Apis Bull, 400–100 BCE, Serpentinite, 20.87 x 7.5 x 23.25 in. (53 x 19 x 59 cm.), The Cleveland Museum of Art, Cleveland, Ohio.

 
[Image credit & copyright: The Cleveland Museum of Art, Leonard C. Hanna Jr. Fund 1969.118, Public Domain Creative Commons Zero (CC0) designation.]