I was in Montbard's tiny Buffon museum recently. It's housed in what used to be Buffon's orangery. The main museum was intended to be in his large family house and was to open in 2007 to coincide with the tercentenary of Buffon's birth, but before its completion a new maire was voted in and funding for the project was stopped (despite my indignant letters written to the Mairie explaining how taxidermic dioramas are of greater benefit to the community than schools, health centres and civic infra-structure).
But the orangery museum (above) has been well designed and shows a glimpse of Buffon's life along with surgical instruments and mounted specimens from his era. The lady that works there has read extensively about Buffon and imparts her knowledge with enthusiasm despite the fact that her job hangs by a thread as now even the orangery is under threat of closure. To me (ever keen to bring to bear the cold eye of objectivity) it seems clear that if the museum complex were to be expanded as some kind of scientific conference centre (it's well served by road and rail) it could bring jobs to this town that is dying an economic death.
Speaking of death;
It's almost a cliché for Cabinets of Curiosities to have a crocodile or alligator suspended upside- down, as is this one in Buffon's orangery.
I've been reflecting on this recently as last summer I bought a stuffed crocodile down south, in a Béziers market, and am looking forward to displaying it. Unfortunately it's still down south as I was travelling with friends and it was too big to get into their car; I suggested that their child travel by train but you known how people are.
Star-cross'd lovers and taxidermy;
When Romeo learns of Juliet's supposed death he races to the nearest apothecary to buy himself some poison - in the apothecary's “needy shop a tortoise hung, an alligator stuffed and other skins of ill-shaped fishes”.
This is regarded as the first definitive written use of 'alligator' in the English language. Before that this reptile was known as an 'aligarto' or 'lagarto' or other variants to that effect, all ultimately from 'lacerta' (Latin for 'lizard) via the Spanish for lizard, 'el lagarto'.
In the good old days stuffed crocodiles were often suspended from the vaults of churches, especially in Italy, to drive away demons.
It was perhaps as an extension this apotropaic use that, using their powers of dissuasion to ward off ignorance, they came to signify the “place of a learned man”.
Drug suppliers would present gifts to apothecaries who sold their goods (plus ça change) and a favourite offering was an alligator or crocodile due to their associations with learning and as a symbolic defence against disease. They were also relatively easy to preserve; indeed, the oldest surviving example of taxidermy is said to be a crocodile mounted in 1623 and exhibited at St. Gallen's Museum of Natural History in Switzerland.
I suppose constraints of space resulted in their being hung from rafters, their ridged backs lowermost to show to advantage the glassy eyes
This method of displaying crocodilia became enshrined in the melange of artistic conceits once shared by apothecaries, barber-surgeons and creators of Wunderkammern.
Above is the first known illustration (1599) of a Cabinet of Curiosities, that of Ferrante Imperato of Naples.
Trausnitz Castle in Bavaria opened its refurbished Wunderkammer in 2004 retaining aspects of traditional presentation.
All of which means I'm going to have to nail my crocodile to the ceiling – at least it will drive off all ignorance, disease and demonic presence.
I won't recognise the place.