|
Meg Zimbeck delights in the re-emergence from the ashes of one of the oddest collections in Paris
The fire broke out at five in the morning, moving quickly and devouring most of the animals in its path. Rare butterflies were torched along with a gazelle and four alligators. Hundreds of birds and a lion were among those that did not escape.
This isn’t a scene from a safari park, nor did the catastrophe happen in a zoo. These animals lost their “second lives” at a taxidermy shop in Paris.
Deyrolle has been collecting and preserving the natural world since 1831. Founded by a naturalist with a taxidermy sideline, the house quickly became a destination for hunters. Big game – everything from bison to polar bears – was dropped upon the Deyrolle doorstep. Most of these trophies were “naturalised” and taken home, but some owners never came back.
Their castoffs, and a good number of preserved poodles, were absorbed into a growing cabinet de curiosités.
Word spread about the strange collection, drawing such admirers as André Breton and Salvador Dalí. The surrealists would no doubt have appreciated the recent spectacle of charred animals being carried out and set in front of next-door neighbour (and leading chef) Pierre Gagnaire.
The blaze on 1 February this year destroyed much, but not all, of the famed curiosity cabinet. The entomology holdings were not so lucky. The passion of founder Jean-Baptiste Deyrolle, this collection grew to comprise thousands of crawly things. The papery specimens were no match for 1,000°C temperatures, and the collection was almost entirely destroyed.
On the bright side, due to basement storage, Deyrolle’s famous planches were largely undamaged. These educational boards have hung in the classrooms of generations of French schoolchildren, and have themselves become collectors’ items. Proceeds from their sale, along with a limited-edition Hermès scarf and the book Deyrolle pour l’Avenir (Gallimard), will contribute to the cost of reconstruction.
The work, estimated to require upwards of US$1.5m, is already well underway. The first floor has reopened and is once again welcoming the curious into a cabinet of smaller proportions. A new entomologist, Pompeu Rahola, has been hired to fill the empty cases. He admits, over a pile of order forms, that the task is overwhelming. “Such terrible destruction,” he sighs, before turning to help a fashionable woman choose a moth for her collection.
Despite the devastation, there are abundant signs of new (preserved) life at Deyrolle. In these spruced-up surroundings, among the stuffed peacocks and vintage posters, it’s almost possible to forget about the fire. Until you reach the cash register, that is, where a collection of smoke-damaged sale birds will remind you of what’s been lost.
|
