December 2, 2010
CHARLESTON MERCURY
Page 7
A Visit to the Stibbert Museum BY TAILLEFER LONG
feels like a discovery. I felt like a guest in a home, as though someone were confiding his secret obsession to me. But Frederick’s passion was no secret: he fully dedicated himself to amassing a remarkable collection of historical artifacts and his mission was to create a timeless display as his legacy. “My museum” is how Frederick fondly referred to his home and the collection of about 50,000 artifacts — including armory, paintings, jewelry, porcelain and textiles. When he died in 1906, his vision was for his house and collection to become a museum accessible to the public. Frederick Stibbert’s life and family history are fascinating. His father, Thomas, a former colonel in the Coldstream Guards (a regiment of the British Army), moved to Florence in the 1830s after globetrotting the world before marrying the much younger Giulia Cafaggi. Frederick was sent back to England to receive his education as a “ward in Chancery,” under the guardianship of the Lord Chancellor and various tutors. He maintained close ties with English high society throughout his life, despite spending most of it in his native Florence. Defeating his educators’ best efforts, young Frederick refused to follow the set course that was expected of many of his British peers. During his formative years, his one consistent interest was drawing. Journals filled with his juvenile sketches and watercolors may be viewed in the museum’s library. While attending Cambridge, Frederick developed a passion for photography, which may have inspired his desire to see the world. Upon receiving his inheritance, he immediately began to travel to destinations throughout Europe and the Near East. In 1869 he traveled to Egypt for the opening of the Suez Canal. His only trip to the United States, in 1876, was for the centennial of American independence. The family wealth, a fabulous fortune that Frederick inherited, was amassed by his grandfather. Initially
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had no idea what to expect as I planned my visit to the Stibbert Museum. As it is overshadowed by the major museums and Renaissance sites of Florence, Italy, there is relatively limited information available to the casual tourist. Although the Florentines I asked reassured me it was a fascinating place, the trepidation remained. I was stepping into the unknown and was somewhat reluctant to venture off the beaten track. The Stibbert Museum is located just outside the city walls on the Montughi hilltop, an area that was once a rural retreat for noble Florentine families. Recently widowed, Giulia Stibbert relocated to this villa to raise her three young children in 1849. Frederick, the only son and founder of the museum, would eventually transform his childhood home and the adjoining villa into the museum. The current journey to the museum offers a view of the city ignored by many due to its remoteness from the historic center and the heavy traffic. However, the drive affords a glimpse of Florence’s more modern developments into an urban center; the boulevards and buildings have a look and feel that is reminiscent of Haussmann-era Paris. I had arranged to meet with the Director, Dr. Kirsten Piacenti, who along with her assistant, Simona Di Marco, greeted me in the administrative quarters of the estate. A team of researchers worked in the adjoining room, archiving and organizing mountains of paperwork and files. What struck me immediately was the sense that the staff was dedicated to preserving something of great value to both them and the general public. They spoke of Frederick with familiarity, as though he were a relative, taking great pride in extolling his virtues and showing off his magnum opus. It didn’t take long for me to fall under the same spell As it is away from the crowded streets and little known to the public at large, a visit to the Stibbert Museum
Commander-in-Chief of the forces of the British East India Company, Giles Stibbert went on to rule as Governor of Bengal for many years, accumulating incredible riches by what many of the British elite considered questionable means (perhaps the reason for Thomas and Frederick’s selfimposed exile from England). Frederick’s own military experience was limited but commendable. In 1866, he briefly joined Garibaldi’s campaign for the unification of Italy and received a silver medal for bravery in battle. From his written account of his military involvement what emerges is his predisposition to eschew definition for a more objective viewpoint: “I enjoyed it all and laughed, which is the best thing to do.” Ultimately, this detached enthusiasm and his tireless interest in the world around him are fundamental aspects of the universal appeal of Frederick’s collections. Wandering through the 57 rooms of the villa was overwhelming at first, for I was unsure where to rest my gaze amidst the wealth of artifacts that adorn every inch of the vast assemblage. The seemingly infinite array of collectibles ranges from Baroque paintings to Flemish tapestries, from fine porcelain to Egyptian sarcophagi, each battling for one’s attention with an initially dizzying effect. It was upon entering the grand hall that I sensed the metamorphosis from being a passive onlooker to becoming a participant. Face-to-face with a life-size cavalry of realistic knights mounting horses, fully armed for battle, surrounded by foot soldiers and a sea of shiny weaponry, is about as close as I care to be to actual warfare. In an adjoining room, Islamic warriors brace for battle. A narrow spiral staircase leads to the Japanese Rooms, where yet another battalion of lifesize warriors, this time samurai, stands in ambush, in what is apparently the largest display of ancient Japanese weapons outside of Japan. Stibbert had life-like mannequins of warriors and horses crafted to adorn the collec-
PHOTOGRAPH COURTESY OF THE STIBBERT MUSEUM
Turkish flintlock pistol that finally found its way back to the museum.
tions of original armament, meticulously overseeing every detail to obtain uncanny verisimilitude. Leading to the main rooms, halls are lined with pistols, rifles, sabres, helmets and armor — should one feel the need to arm oneself for the ensuing confrontation. About 12,000 European, Islamic and Oriental pieces of arms and armor, spanning from the 15th century to the 19th century, create a veritable anachronistic battlefield within the walls of this Florentine villa. By the time the museum was preparing to close, I was immersed in the racks of firearms, admiring the displays of ivory and wooden handles carved with intricate battle scenes and trying to figure out each unique mechanism. I was receiving an education on the development of firearms over the centuries and across cultures. Forgetting that I had just seen such treasures as the outfit worn by Napoleon in 1805 for his coronation as King of Italy or the pavilion of banners from the Sienese Palio was understandable, given the sensory overload that each room induced. The experience was far more than a visit to a museum — it was a journey through time. What is most unique about the Stibbert Museum is the dramatic fashion in which Frederick integrated the collections into his villa. I felt as though I were visiting an artist’s studio, a mad scientist’s laboratory, a playroom for a restless soul with child-like enthusiasm and endless means to indulge his heart’s desires. Regardless of your interests, it is impossible not to feel a connection to Frederick’s unyielding vision as you wander the halls of his former home. Special thanks to Dr. Kirsten Aschengreen Piacenti and Simona Di Marco.
Husk, continued from page 1
PHOTOGRAPHS BY BLAIR HALFORD
Ah, the board. A listing of what is fresh on the menu for that day. It changes daily, and is sure to become a special piece of local history.
for us, he ventured down to Charleston to present Husk. Well, it may not be as much luck as we think, because, according to him, “The ownership has to have passion.” One meeting with Mr. Howard, and I could tell he was infused with a fiery love for his novel restaurant. He has built this dream to perfection, renovating two nearly dilapidated buildings to create a jewel. “The vision to turn these two neglected historic buildings into HUSK was nothing short of ‘a match made in Charleston.’ My hat is off to Dave and the owners for CYAN-AOOO
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their perfect execution of this adaptive reuse,” notes Jennifer Davis, broker for the sale of the properties. Let us take you through a virtual tour, shall we? It looks like it was a Charleston single style, that could now take one back to Fried Green Tomatoes, if they reset the scenes to take place in our decade. The centerpieces are dried okras, the glass in the windows is original, the floors were there once upon a time and the décor is modern chic. The open kitchen lends a warmth to the first floor. Should you choose to dine on the second YELLOW-OOAO
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floor, you have the option of nesting on the piazza, which we all know as so-very Charleston. You’ll scan your menu, where the ink is still drying on the paper, to see from which farm you’ll order your feed. You’ll gobble it up, absorbing every ounce of goodness that our region can produce. With a full belly and a warm heart, you’ll travel to the speakeasy next door — Husk’s little bar that brings back memories of duels and rowdy laughter that filled our streets when they were all cobblestone. You’ll make your way upstairs with your cocktail du jour, and rest on one of the vibrant red sofas. Should you look up to the rafters you will find vines climbing on the ceiling and a charred corner where a fire once raged. You’ll leave with a feeling that no other dining experience can afford. Nevertheless, it all hinges on that menu. Howard explains, “The menu changes twice daily — lunch and dinner. Our point of difference is the quality of ingredients. We have premium ingredients. That’s it.” Isn’t that all there needs to be? No one ever thought about sacrificing hours to revamp his or her menu twice a day. Howard’s words keep harping back to me, as he emphatically made clear that if the fishermen didn’t catch Mahi, they wouldn’ít serve Mahi. That’s why they won’t write a menu set in stone. If there is no Mahi, they will buy no Mahi. They will instead buy flounder, trout, whatever the fishermen caught. This is the test only a phenomenal chef can pass. He can take what is available and
make something remarkable. And that is what makes a restaurant noteworthy. It’s the food we all come for anyway. The ambiance is the cherry on top. And for Husk, a name that comes from the concept of Southern indigenous dishes that hinge on corn, the food speaks for itself, and the rooms that envelop you … Oh well, you may have just hit the mother load of dining experiences. Of course, Howard knows his masterpiece is wedged between two miracle eateries that have stood the test of time. He tells his staff to learn from his neighboring restaurants, because they know what it takes. And his modesty, stirred in with talent, is sure to serve to add his restaurant’s name to the list of local haunts that the locals haunt. About 18 months in the making, Husk was filled to capacity on opening night and has been full ever since her doors swung open. Everyone is ironing out kinks and adjusting plans, but the food speaks for itself. Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve come full circle back to the days when we ate everything we hunted and grew. This restaurant thrives on local farmers and fishermen who harvest food for their sustenance and livelihood. They are making the bread and butter of our communities, who have faced adversity, relevant again. And the whole concept is so simple. Eat what is available. Eat tomatoes in the summer and turnips in the winter. Eat what you can grow. Eat what you can catch. It’s easy enough, and that’s all she wrote.
The Missing Pistol: It’s Never Too Late to Shoot Straight By Taillefer Long In September the Stibbert Museum in Florence, Italy, made international news, and a single pistol from its extensive collection stole the spotlight. Some 66 years ago from the day it went missing from the Stibbert Museum, a 250-year-old pistol was ceremoniously returned. In December 1944 the museum’s director reported, “Much damage has resulted from the billeting of several hundred soldiers throughout the Museum…They amused themselves by trying on armor, helmets and shields ripped from the walls, and moved furniture around for their own comfort …They carelessly opened dozens of display cases, resulting in many objects being misplaced and, after tireless searching, we ascertained that some objects are missing” (translated from the Italian press release). The incident refers to a brief interlude at the end of World War II when the British Army set up headquarters in the museum, from August 25 to September 16, 1944. Among the missing items, museum officials reported a pistol with coral and silver bodywork decorating the handle and barrel. The weapon had originally been on display as the sidearm of one of the life-size mannequins in one of the Islamic Rooms. The Museum’s only hope had been for British authorities to investigate the missing objects, which did not yield any results. After 66 years, the chances of recovering any of the stolen objects had been all but forgotten. Then, a few months ago, something very unlikely happened. On his deathbed in North Wales, Stanley Parry decided to come clean and instructed his daughter to return the beautiful pistol that had been hanging on his wall since before she was born to its rightful owner. After Mr. Parry passed away, June Cooke contacted the Italian Embassy in London that then relayed the good news to the director of the Stibbert Museum in Florence. After 66 long years the mystery of the missing pistol had finally been resolved. An officer in the British Army, Stanley Parry had served in North Africa before joining the rest of the Allied forces in the push through Italy. Mr. Parry told his daughter that he did not steal the pistol himself, but came into its possession by chance. He claimed to have taken it on a ship from a fellow soldier who was about to throw it overboard. “Dad said he always wanted to give it back but he was also keen for the museum to know that he didn’t steal it…[he] always wanted the gun to be returned and it was his last wish that it should be,” said Mrs. Cooke. In an interview with the BBC, the director of the Stibbert Museum, Dr. Piacenti, said: “It’s a fascinating story, and we were amazed when we got a call earlier this year from the embassy in London telling us they had recovered the pistol.” Regardless of the circumstances, the end result was the safe return of a valuable object to Frederick Stibbert’s remarkable collection. Mrs. Cooke was flown to Italy to hand over the pistol in person in a ceremony organized by the museum. The Turkish flintlock pistol has ornate decorations and is thought to have belonged to a high-ranking dignitary of the Ottoman Empire. The estimated value of the pistol is about $24,000 (15,000 pounds). For More Information Hours: Monday – Wednesday 10 a.m. – 2 p.m.; Friday – Sunday 10 a.m. – 6 p.m.; closed Thursdays. Some of the collections have limited access, and tours are occasionally available in English. Call for details, tel. 055-48.60.49. The Stibbert Museum is located in Via Stibbert 26. It is advisable to take a taxi from the center of Florence, although it can be reached by the N.4 bus leaving from the central train station and getting off at the stop in Via Fabroni. The Museum is a short but steep walk from the bus stop; follow the signs. For further information visit the museum’s Web site at www.museostibbert.it.