Santuario delle Grazie (Shrine of Our Lady of Grace), Grazie, Italy : Guest Post by Alessandro Molinengo, Nautilus Shop, Modena

A few days ago, Evan Michelson (third down) and I took the train to Modena (home of Ferrari, Lamborghini, and Balsamic Vinegar) to meet Alessandro Molinengo (top image), a long time internet friend and co-proprietor of the amazing Nautilus Antiques which we had both dreamt of visiting for some years.

After our visit to the shop, Alessandro--who is, it turns out, also an excellent tour guide--suggested we make a trip to check out an obscure church in the tiny town of Grazie, Italy which his business partner  Fausto Gazzi had suggested might interest us. None of us had been there before, so we hopped in the car and went.

This church--the Santuario delle Grazie (or Shrine of Our Lady of Grace)--was a real surprise and an utter, stunning delight, a museum of sorts enshrining arcane forms of worship, collecting, and ex voto usage. What interested Evan the most was the crocodile hanging high in the nave, a hold over from a time when churches would routinely display natural curiosities (see top two images). What interested me the most were the colorful and crudely fashioned statues which filled every available niche. Half of these depicted what appeared to be important church visitors of centuries past, while the other half felt more like a dime museum's house of horrors, peopled with a variety of stiffly posed martyrs meeting imaginatively gruesome ends. Equally fascinating were the thousands of wax anatomical (hands, eyes, breasts, and Bubonic Plague buboes!) ex votos snaking decoratively over every available surface (as seen in all images, but especially 4th down). This pilgrimage church, with its tinny piped-in liturgical music and wax torture museum ambiance, felt somewhere between a circus sideshow and religious Disneyland, less fine art than folk art full of ancient sacred expression in a language we could only barely understand. 

Evan and I had so many questions about this baffling and fascinating place that we asked Alessandro to write a guest post about the church and its history. Following is his post; you can find out more about Allesandro's truly amazing shop (more on that soon!) here (the website) and here (his Facebook page). Stay tuned for a full post on this almost painfully (as I have not much money) wonderful shop, what I would call the Obscura Antiques of Italy.

The Shrine of Our Lady of Grace is a church in Lombard Gothic style, dedicated to the Blessed Virgin Mary, and is located in the small village of Grazie, close to the town of Curtatone, 9 km from Mantua.

The origins of the church back to 1200, where, on a small promontory rising from the maze of flora and reeds, stood a small altar with the image of the Madonna and Child in which the fishermen of the lake and farmers were especially devoted. The devotion of the people of the area was old and well established; in that time the lake environment was indeed a source of livelihood but also hard work, starvation and disease, superstitions and fears, and this strength of faith was very comforting. Towards the end of the fourteenth century, by the grace received, Francesco Gonzaga built a temple to the Virgin Mary, after the end to an epidemic of The Plague. The construction cost 30,000 gold crowns and in August of 1406 the chapel was consecrated.

Soon after the completion of the basilica, pilgrimages to the church gradually assumed popularity, intensifying with the poor people of the surrounding countries, nobles, and even the Emperor Charles V and Pope Pius II who all came to visit the sacred image of Madonna and Child. So began a series of donations that brought even the original architectural features of the amendment, some important families valances they built chapels for prayer attached to the convent or in the church to bury their ancestors.

From 1412 until the end of the century a convent, school, chapel, and library were added. In 1782 the monastery was closed and converted into a hospital. Thus began the decline of the Basilica. The Napoleonic invasion deprived the collection of votive offerings and many of its treasures, and the material contained in its rich library was dispersed or destroyed, and in 1812 much of the architectural complex was finally dismantled.

The interior is Gothic single nave, and the ceiling is a vault decorated with frescoes of flowers. Upon entering, one is struck by the richness of the walls and its hangings because of a stuffed crocodile that was once located in the Shrine in the fifteenth or sixteenth century now hanging from the ceiling (top 2 images). The middle part of the walls of the nave is lined with full-length wooden structure, with eighty niches arranged in two parallel rows, where many mannequins in various poses and situations representing episodes of danger averted by divine intercession are placed. Today only about forty statues remain. There is no wall, column, corner unadorned; decorations consist of rows of wax anatomical ex votos covering the walls not occupied by statues, drawing snake motifs around columns or below the arches of the niches. You see here ex-votos representing hearts, hands, eyes, breasts, and pestilential buboes (from The Bubonic Plague), which combine to offer the viewer a unique puzzle.

The life-size mannequins you see all around you, as well as their clothing, armor, helmets and weapons were constructed of papier-mâché, and most of them are attributed to Friar Francis Acquanegra, who created in the early 16th century. The statues were constructed of layers of paper and cloth hardened with plaster and painted with colorings and with honey added as a binder; subsequently, several elements were added that were created by casts; also, in some cases, wood was used for face, hands and feet (depending on the pose taken by the manikin), horsehair for hair and acorns for some particulars. As for the clothes, it was discovered that these were created from cotton fabric with hooks applied to statues and date back to the late nineteenth century.

Twelve suits of armor have been reassembled from various statues. It is in fact defensive Gothic-Italian armor made in 1400 that covered completely the rider as they are made from different pieces of steel composed harmoniously ensuring effective protection. Examples of armor like this are extremely rare, if they can find in fact only eleven pieces all over the world, which is why today they are no longer exposed to the monastery but were transferred to the Diocesan Museum Francesco Gonzaga in Mantua. Various hypotheses have been made about the arrival of such prestigious reinforcements in the monastery; they were probably a gift of the Gonzaga family, lords of Mantua, unlike other more modest pieces (but still going back to 1500 ) from other sources.  Under the niches are the metopes explaining in vulgar Italian the grace received as depicted in the dioramic tableau above. Sometimes the mannequins do not coincide with the metope below, a sign that over the years have been the first few shifts. 

A real star of the sanctuary is a crocodile (Crocodilus niloticus) embalmed and hung from the ceiling in the center of the nave. It is a real crocodile, not a model, in its entirety, which was added to the church in the fifteenth or sixteenth century and has recently been the subject of restoration. This is not the only Italian church where you can find such a strange thing; the church of Santa Maria delle Virgin Macerata also has a crocodile hanging, probable gift from Macerata returned from the Crusades.

In ancient times they were seen with promiscuity figures of dragons, crocodiles or snakes and often, in the Christian era, were associated with evil, considered personifications of earthly hell, animals that lead to sin.

The placement of these animals in the churches thus has a strong symbolic meaning, as medieval churches also housed prehistoric fossils, therefore, the animal chained up in the vault of the church means to render it harmless, lock the evil he represents and at the same time expose a concrete reminder to the faithful against human susceptibility to error.

Related to the crocodile "of Grace" and its derivation were born many legends and theories; there are those who believe he was an escapee from the zoo of an exotic private house of Gonzaga; others believe his acquisition was of a more miraculous nature: two boatmen brothers were resting on the bank of the river when all of a sudden one of them was attacked by a crocodile. The other, asking for God's guidance, armed himself with a knife and was able to kill the predator.

It seems that the church in the past was literally covered with all types of weapons, flags and banners from the ceiling and hung dried boats, as well obviously the statues and "panels" in wax reproducing parts of the body that are still present.

Many of these objects are representative of an era, a way of life, habits of rural life of the place, and the social situation of the time. The ex votos depict hands and feet indicate miraculous healings likely to injuries while working in the fields (as also witnessed by the tools and the votive tablets found in other areas of the church), the eyes, the pestiferous boils of the plague, hearts, breasts to bring us to consider the importance of a mother to breastfeed at a time when there were no alternatives to maternal food.

An interesting note is the presence of the ball that allowed the promotion to Series A of the football team of Mantua in 1961. That’s was a real miracle!

You can find out more about the by the Santuario delle Grazie (Shrine of Our Lady of Grace) by clicking here. You can find out more about the Nautilus Shop by clicking here, and can "like" the shop on Facebook by clicking here. The shop is open on Saturdays from 3 until 7 PM or by appointment, and is located at via Cesare Battisti 60 in Modena, Italy

All images are my own, taken at the church. The text is, as indicated, written by the lovely Alessandro Molinengo.

Museo di Anatomia Umana (Museum of Human Anatomy), Pisa: Italy Trip Guest Post by Evan Michelson, TV's "Oddities" and Morbid Anatomy Library

Below, the fourth guest post by Evan Michelson of "Oddities" and the Morbid Anatomy Library documenting our trip through Italy researching the history of the preservation and display of the human corpse. Here, her response to the small but wonderful Museo di Anatomia Umana (Museum of Human Anatomy) of Pisa:

The Museum of Human Anatomy at Pisa is located at the school of medicine and surgery, just a few steps away from the Piazza dei Miracoli which contains the overly-familiar Leaning Tower - a 12th century campanile gone wrong.

The museum collection has an interesting history: Pisa was host to the First Conference of Italian Scientists in 1839 - a somewhat radical gathering uniting scientists from several disciplines. According to our guide, this was a philosophically Positivist convocation that was determined to make sure that science would have an important role to play in a newly unifying Italy. Scientists from the Papal States were not in attendance. Much of the current museum collection was organized for that gathering.

There were several "petrified" preparations in the collection (petrification being an Italian specialty), a fine osteological display, and a nice array of wet preparations. Of particular interest were the full-size flayed human specimens, whose vessels were injected with chalk (an odd method, but confirmed by several sources).

The mummy of Gaetano Arrighi, a convict who died in the early 19th century, seemed to have particular pride of place. His body went unclaimed and he was prepared according to a 19th century Italian recipe, but the results appear quite ancient. I fell in love with a particularly vivid, gesticulating infant in a nearby case, but the mummy certainly did have his charms.

You can find out more about the Museo di Anatomia Umana, Pisa (Museum of Human Anatomy at Pisa) by clicking here. You can read future posts by Evan both on this blog and on her Facebook page, which you will find by clicking here. All images are mine, from the museum.

The Decorative Tomb Skulls of Tuscany : Pisa's Camposanto Monumentale

Above are a few decorative tomb skulls--and a corpse-themed tomb sculpture--that Evan and I encountered yesterday at Pisa's Camposanto Monumentale (Monumental Cemetery). Sadly, Buonamico Buffalmacco's magnificent fresco "The Three Dead and the Three Living and The Triumph of Death" (1338-39)--also housed by the Camposanto--was much damaged by allied bombing in 1944, though what remains is wonderfully evocative; you can see what remains and learn more about it by clicking here.

Galileo's Fingers (and a Tooth): Italy Trip Guest Post by Evan Michelson, TV's "Oddities" and Morbid Anatomy Library

Below, the third guest post by Evan Michelson of TV's "Oddities" and the Morbid Anatomy Library documenting our trip through Italy supporting our book-in-progress on the history of the preservation and display of the human body.

In this post, she responds to some very unique science age relics (see above) housed at the amazing Florence Science Museum (now the Museo Galileo):

These two reliquaries contain a total of three fingers and one tooth from the revered mathematician, astronomer and physicist Galileo Galilei - the father of modern science and one of the greatest theoretical minds that mankind has ever known. He is a secular saint and a "martyr to science," a man convicted and imprisoned by the Inquisition for the crime of Copernicanism; he advocated for a heliocentric model of the solar system - the idea that the Earth revolves around the Sun. This was heresy according to the Roman Catholic Church, and it took 300 or so years for the Vatican to finally relent (somewhat) and issue a half-hearted apology. It is an egregious chapter in Western cultural history, and it highlights one of the central schisms between faith and science.

I have wanted to visit these particular digits for many years, and I fully expected my knees to go weak. Strangely enough, nothing of the sort happened. The power of Christian relics are both devotional and emotional - they conjure up the presence and the physical reality of the Saint; they allow the faithful to understand and commune with the very human aspect of a person who has been elevated to a more abstract state of high holiness. A secular figure such as Galileo generally needs no such reminder: we know that he lived, and we know what he accomplished. His fingers and that one tooth seemed improbable and curious - less like objects of reverence than slightly whimsical (and grisly) souvenirs.

A case on the other side of the room, however, contained Galileo's personal scientific instruments, including two telescopes of his own design. Galileo was (in addition to everything else) an inventor, and he was the first to improve on an original Dutch design by boosting the magnifying power of a spyglass considerably while creating a non-inverted image. He then trained these simple tubes at the Heavens. It was at that moment that modern astronomy was born; our solar system and our galaxy became comprehensible. We understood for the first time that the Milky Way that spills across the night sky is made of stars. I looked upon those unassuming tubes of wood, glass and leather, and finally I felt an overwhelming awe.

You can find out more about the Museo Galileo by clicking here. You can read future posts by Evan both on this blog and on her Facebook page, which you will find by clicking here. The images are mine.

Saint Rosalia, Patron Saint of Palermo, Goth Women?

Saint Rosalia is the Patron Saint of Palermo; I would also like to nominate her as patron saint of Goth women. Why? See above for a few statues depicting her in the traditional fashion--as a young, beautiful woman, bedecked with a crown of roses, reading a book in her solitary lair with only a human skull for company, or clutching a human skull in her black robe. Simply does not get more Goth than that. Not even in the Catholic church.

More, from Wikipedia:

Born: 1130, Palermo, Italy
Died: 1166 (aged 35–36), Mount Pellegrino, Italy
Feast: September 4; July 15 (Festino)
Attributes: Depicted as a young woman, sometimes holding a cross, book, or skull. She is also seen wearing a crown of roses.
Patronage: Palermo; El Hatillo; Zuata Anzoátegui

Saint Rosalia (1130–1166), also called La Santuzza or "The Little Saint", is the patron saint of Palermo, Italy, El Hatillo, Venezuela, and Zuata, Anzoátegui, Venezuela.

According to legend, Rosalia was born of a Norman noble family that claimed descent from Charlemagne. Devoutly religious, she retired to life as a hermit in a cave on Mount Pellegrino, where she died alone in 1166. Tradition says that she was led to the cave by two angels. On the cave wall she wrote "I, Rosalia, daughter of Sinibald, Lord of Roses, and Quisquina, have taken the resolution to live in this cave for the love of my Lord, Jesus Christ."

In 1624, a horrible plague haunted Palermo, and during this hardship St Rosalia appeared first to a sick woman, then to a hunter to whom she indicated where her remains were to be found. She ordered him to bring her bones to Palermo and have them carried in procession through the city.

The hunter climbed the mountain and found her bones in the cave as described. He did what she had asked in the apparition, and after the procession the plague ceased. After this St Rosalia would be venerated as the patron saint of Palermo, and a sanctuary was built in the cave where her remains were discovered.

Both images from random churches in Palermo. More to come soon!

Palermo's Capuchin Catacombs: Italy Trip Guest Post by Evan Michelson, TV's "Oddities" and Morbid Anatomy Library

Below you will find a second guest post by Evan Michelson of TV's "Oddities" and the Morbid Anatomy Library which will document our three-week trip through Italy supporting our book-in-progress exploring the history of the preservation and display of the human body in Italy.

Here, she waxes poetic on Palermo's rightfully renowned Capuchin Catacombs, best known to some as the final resting place of Rosalia Lombardo ("The Sleeping Beauty") and to others from Marco Lanza's The Living Dead. We were both more than happy to pay a sizable "photography fee" in order to have over two hours alone--all restriction gates opened, front doors locked to the public--in this dark, quiet, wonderful, overwhelming, sad, and, we both agreed, utterly perfect place.

Above is a photo of Evan with her favorite--piece? specimen? artifact?--from a workroom in which the mummies are restored. Here, we were able to get close enough to touch stacks of mummies in dusty wooden coffins donned in rolling swaths of antique Sunday best, floral wreaths topping grinning skulls, hands folded demurely in white gloves. Not to mention a fully costumed child skeleton in a crate (see above) and the odd skull.

More (many, many more!) images to come in the book, but we promised the keeper that we would restrain ourselves from online use. But let me say this: as those who have been will assure you, neither words nor photographs really suffice to communicate the grim magnificence of this place; A focus of both Evan and I's pilgrimage longings for decades, it not only did not disappoint but astounded. We both agreed it was the most spectacular, most overwhelming, most perfect macabre site we have have ever had the luck to experience.

A few days ago Joanna and I visited the Capuchin Catacombs in Palermo; they have been an obsession of mine for many years - a grotesque dream.

We had the whole place to ourselves for two hours, every gate unlocked, the doors shut behind us. In my imagination it had been only a few chambers, but the whole complex is actually quite large and it houses thousands of mummified corpses, all dressed in their finest; they are hung on the walls, laid out on crude wooden slabs and stuffed into elaborate coffins; they line corridors and adorn special chapels. To say that it was stunning and overwhelming would be an understatement - we were both giddy and disbelieving. There I was, in the place of my dreams; it was a profound experience that transcended every other deathly place I've ever visited.

It was the clothing that did it, that and the somewhat crude method of mummification practiced by the monks. The result is mummies in every state of decay: some not much more than skeletons, others with their faces artfully peeling away; there are only a handful that are eerily well preserved. They all wear gorgeous linens, laces, silks and woolens, their feet in lovely shoes, their hands stuffed into dainty gloves. The effect is uncanny, fascinating and strangely personal. These are real people, their post-mortem body language a grotesque parody of life. Long after the muscles stiffen the skin continues to shrink, harden and slough away, giving rise to hideous and comical expressions alike. The stuffed, hanging bodies, obeying the call of gravity, slump and lean in intimate ways.

This photo was taken in a disused restoration room - abandoned a while ago when the money ran out. The baby in the box is just one of many children brought here to spend some portion of eternity dressed in its Sunday best, welcoming curious strangers.

You can find out more about the Palermo Capuchin Catacombs by clicking here. You can read future posts by Evan both on this blog and on her Facebook page, which you will find by clicking here. Top three images are Evan's; the rest are my own.

Stay tuned for more posts from our new convent lair in Florence!