Yes, that's right, the Death Salon. Wonder what
that’s all about? Back at
the beginning of October, 2015, my daughter Julie texted me and asked if I was
attending the “Death Salon” at Philadelphia’s Mütter
museum. I had heard of the
Death Salon, but its big conference in Philadelphia slipped by me. Grateful as
ever to Julie, I jumped at the opportunity.
What is the “Death Salon,” you may ask? Allow me to quote
from their
website:
“Welcome to Death Salon. We hold events that bring together
intellectuals and independent thinkers engaged in the exploration of our shared
mortality by sharing knowledge and art. Death is sanitized and hidden in
contemporary culture to the point of becoming a taboo subject. We aim to
subvert this death denial by opening up conversations with the public about
death and its anthropological, historical, and artistic contributions to
culture. In the spirit of the 18th-century salon, our curated intellectual
gatherings hosted in cities worldwide.”
After some preliminary calls and Web searches, I saw that I
had already missed the first day of the conference. Would I be able to attend
just the second day? I drove over to the Mütter
at 8 a.m. on Monday, October 6,
and bumbled my way to the conference area on the second floor.
The Mütter
is a fine place to hold a Death conference. The
place is all about death – or rather medical research that has been advanced
through the study of dead bodies. The Mütter
is the museum (open to the public)
of
The College of Physicians of Philadelphia. The best way to describe it is via this quote from their website:
"America's finest museum of medical history, the Mütter
Museum displays its beautifully preserved collections of anatomical specimens,
models, and medical instruments in a nineteenth-century "cabinet
museum" setting. The goal of the Museum is to help visitors understand the
mysteries and beauty of the human body and appreciate the history of diagnosis
and treatment of disease."
Sounds rather tame, but, trust me – the Mütter
is not for
the faint of heart (nor is finding the umlaut key on your standard keyboard!). So after a discussion with the ticket desk, it turned out
they would not give me half price admission even though I missed the first day.
The full $150 price tag seemed a bit steep for me to listen to speakers go on
and on about death – God knows, I can understand how people want to flee after
I’ve gone on about it for twenty minutes.
The program (
view online) did seem fascinating; however, what I hoped I could do was somehow cajole
or finagle my way in to the exhibitors’ area, the so-called “Dark Artisans’
Bazaar.” While death-related ephemera interests me, I noticed as I perused the
vendor lineup (
click to view)
that my friend Greg Cristiano from
TearDrop Memories would be there.
Teardrop Memories is a New Hope, Pennsylvania storefront
business (and
Internet retailer) specializing in Victorian mourning memorabilia (among other things).
It would be nice to at least peek in and say hi to Greg. As it turned out, they
would not even let me in to the Bazaar if I didn’t pay full admission! Kind of
weird. You would think the organizers would have allowed the vendors to sell to
anyone visiting the Mütter, not just those who paid for attendance to the
conference. The crowd in the lecture hall that morning didn’t look that big –
maybe a hundred people.
|
Lecture Hall at Mütter Museum, Philadelphia, for The Death Salon, Oct. 6, 2015 |
I asked if I could at least pop my head in and say hi to
Greg. After checking with his higher-ups, the young gentleman at the
registration table led me to the huge conservatory where maybe twenty-five
vendors were set up on the periphery of the room. Greg was just inside the door
and we both said our enthusiastic hellos (I have written about Greg Cristiano’s "
TearDrop
Memories” on the
Cemetery Traveler in the past) then without thinking, dove
into a mourning arts discussion as only true believers can.
|
Example of framed Victorian artwork made from hair of the deceased (ref) |
We just went on and on about death things to the degree that
the young fellow must have given up on me and returned to his post. This left
me alone to roam around the Dark Artisans’
Bazaar for a bit. There were no other customers, as
all the attendees were in the lecture hall next door. I poked my head in to see
what aspect of death was being discussed at that moment. I got the idea that I
might not actually want to sit through two solid days of death lectures.
|
Luxurious Victorian library in which Dark Artisans' Bazaar was held (Mütter Museum) |
|
Terry Skovronck, "Death Midwife |
I may have stayed for an hour, roaming from one exhibitor's
table to the next. TearDrop Memories had many examples of antique
Victorian-era mourning
jewelry (many
unique and fabulous pieces), hair wall hangings (see photo above), coffins, and other memento
mori items. Greg's neighbor was Terry Skovronck, a self-proclaimed "Death Midwife."
Obscura Antiques and Oddities from New York City had a variety of interesting
faux 3-D, Fresnel artwork - death-related, of course. Some people (whose business cards are in the selection in my opening photo at top) were selling such truly bizarre goods and services that I simply did not know what to say to them! "
IWantAFunFuneral.com?"
"Urns by Artists?" There were various types of death-related art, including Caitlin McCormack's crocheted (cotton string) skeletal specimens, as well as the typical t-shirts, buttons, and books.
One of the more interesting
books I saw was called Beyond the Dark Veil: Post Mortem and Mourning Photography
from The Thanatos Archive, by Jack Mord - a "compilation of more than 120 extraordinary and haunting photographs and related ephemera
documenting the practice of death and mourning photography in the Victorian Era
and early twentieth century." The book is available on Amazon.com for $20 – which is quite a
steal. Jack Mord has a large Facebook presence with his vintage postmortem
photography.
|
Note my antique white gold "wizard" wedding ring! |
Then I came to the conference table, of sorts. Here I
purchased my "Death Salon" enameled pin (see above), and a copy of the decidedly
atypical book,
Smoke
Gets in Your Eyes: And Other Lessons from the Crematory (also available from Amazon.com). Now, I'm a sucker for
just about any death book, but with a title and cover graphic like this, who
could possibly resist? The author, Caitlin Doughty, seemed to have something to
do with the Death Salon; the woman at the table said she was one of the
organizers. Well, after purchasing and reading the book, it seems
Caitlin is pretty much the driving force behind Death Salon (as well as its
sister organization,
The Order of the Good Death.
|
Death tables in the exhibit hall |
Caitlin Doughty is on a mission to get us to face the reality of our eventual demise. Many
people ride this bandwagon, but to Caitlin’s credit, she’s got the street cred
to back it up. In her twenties, she took a job burning people in a crematorium,
partly to come to terms with her life-long curiosity about death. Not satisfied
that her interests and understanding of death had been rounded out, she went to
school and became a mortician. In 2011,with her founding of
The Order of the
Good Death, her goal has been to bring “
the
realistic discussion of death back into popular culture.” (All the more reason
to hold the Death Salon at the Mütter
Museum!)
So while I barely touched the coffin handle of the Death
Salon in Philadelphia, I got a taste of what the organization is all about.
Through
Smoke Gets in Your Eyes, I learned a great deal. The book is a fabulous
read, and, I might add, a New York Times bestseller. I do hope to attend a
Death Salon in the future, this time as a registered, paid attendee. I have a great deal of respect for what Caitlin Doughty and friends are doing and I sincerely
hope the young man whose grip I eluded to get into the Dark Artisans’
Bazaar will not be
too severely punished.
References and Further Reading:
Death Salon
website
The Mütter Museum
website
TearDrop Memories
website