Cabinet of curiosities

UNE INTERVIEW DE THIERRY RUBY

Opened in 1998 and true to its name, the Cabinet des Curieux offers a collection of antique objects, natural, scientific, and ethnographic curiosities, alongside a selection of contemporary artworks. An urban oasis that passionately resists the passing trends and fashions of the time, it satisfies our yearning for the marvelous. A truly unique place, whose location is discreetly shared among discerning enthusiasts and collectors of the strange.

Interview conducted by Laurent Courau

Can you reflect on the origins of the Cabinet des Curieux and what brought you to the beautiful setting of the Passage Verdeau?

Having finished my studies at the École du Louvre, I had a future ahead of me. I needed to find a place to practice. The space at 12 Passage Verdeau was marked “for rent.” Three of us wanted it at the same time, and the owner (a diamond dealer) chose me because, as he said, “I had a name he would have liked to carry.” So here I am at Passage Verdeau, due to the resonance of my name. A pure, irrational coincidence.

Having had the chance to admire the breadth of your knowledge on various occasions, I’d love for you to reflect on your education, your time at the École du Louvre, and the acquisition of this rich and surprising knowledge.

It all began in my adolescence with the collection of 16th-century books, coins, and fragments of Roman amphorae. My parents often bought antiques, so I was familiar with that world.

I thought about attending the École des Chartes (my alchemical-grimoire side). But an archivist told me, “You’ll spend your life handling manuscripts, but you won’t have the means to buy them.” I am very grateful to him; his insight made me realize that I wanted to own the objects, meaning I was destined for the art market.

I cultivated relationships with antique dealers, flea markets, museums, auction houses, and then the École du Louvre, where we study artistic production, from prehistory to the 20th century.

Over the years, we’ve seen all of Paris pass through your doors, particularly a certain artistic, fetishistic, and neo-Gothic scene. How did you come to frequent this world? Is it the result of recent encounters or a deeper interest, perhaps stemming from your adolescence?

It wasn’t planned at all. It’s simply because many artists from the alternative, dark pop surrealist sphere that I cherish find inspiration in this “fetish” scene as a source of “borderline” creativity.

It’s similar to how, in the past, brothels, cabarets, and their rogue and sultry worlds inspired painters. Of course, unlike before, where these houses hid great misery, trafficking, and slavery, prostitution has been illegal since 1945 and is less glamorous. Now, fetishism and its aesthetic staging have taken over as a “rascally leisure” and a “borderline” source of artistic inspiration.

More generally, who does the Cabinet des Curieux cater to? What kind of strange individuals come to satisfy their passions?

There are both rational clients who know what they are looking for and at what price, accommodating clients seeking a connection with an object, dominant clients looking for status, and compulsive buyers with a vital need to purchase. But in fact, there are few truly strange characters.

Mostly, it’s collectors who create their own universe, a refuge of objects. There’s the “classical” collector, focused on the 18th century; the “fantastical” who buys dragons, chimeras, and vanities; the “thematic” who only seeks sphinxes, for example; the “ethnographic” who loves fetishes, masks, and weapons from distant lands; the “contemporary curiosity” collector, who buys dark or pop-surrealist works; and the “archaeological” collector, who adores Gallo-Roman terracotta.

And then there’s another category, less specific in its choices: the “amateurs,” who sample from every category.

They are normal people, seen from the outside, with a private inner world.

Your collections, the objects you exhibit and offer, seem to come from all corners of the world and from all eras. To quote you: “a collection of ancient objects, natural, scientific, ethnographic curiosities, alongside the works of contemporary artists.” How do you choose these pieces? What motivates presenting such a wide and varied array?

This is the very essence of the cabinet of curiosities. In past centuries, the goal was to present a “summary” of the world, with a touch of magic or fantasy brought by the artists of the time.

As for the ancient pieces, we move from Pre-Columbian archaeology to a bronze nymph, a vase with snakes, a funeral mask, a reliquary, or a vanity. For living artists, it’s the same quest; we “hunt” for the artist just as we do for the objects. It’s the act of discovering for oneself that creates the added emotion.

This hunger for curiosities led me to explore many areas of collection. I have no prejudices about what it is “serious” to collect or not. The personal taste we develop is essential. This taste is reflected in the shop, and the clients expect this taste, which becomes a reference for some.

Although this may be a difficult task, could you reflect on the three, four, or five pieces that will forever remain dear to your heart? The ones that moved you the most and that you had the hardest time parting with?

The first is a terracotta bust from 1785 (L’Affliction), by Stouf, the king’s sculptor (sold to the Louvre). This sculpture is the cornerstone of my aesthetic quest that has developed over the years: beauty, pain, sensuality. A sublime piece of modeling. Its sale allowed me to take the leap.

The second is Eve, a robotic sculpture by the duo Benalo Polis, created for the exhibition Venus Robotica. I am Eve‘s godfather, and she was baptized with sewing machine oil. She represents another inseparable theme of the Cabinet des Curieux: strangeness and science fiction, the fantastic.

The third is a romantic ivory, The Young Girl and Death. When the client said, “I’ll buy it,” I felt uneasy. Eros and Thanatos, unavoidable.

The fourth is Greensward Grey by Natalie Shau, a piece depicting the passage between the worlds of the living and the dead.

Let’s also mention this Italian sanguine drawing from the early 17th century, depicting Medusa. Medusa, a beautiful young girl raped by Poseidon in a temple dedicated to Athena, is punished by the same goddess, who transforms her into a gorgon. Her hair becomes serpents, her eyes widen, and her gaze petrifies anyone who meets it. It holds the power of the feminine, the power of the gaze, and the intimate relationship with the monstrous.

Listing these pieces encapsulates the “borderline” nature of the Cabinet des Curieux: beauty, sensuality, pain, and the fantastic.