Immerse yourself in an unexpected experience: a true paradise for children, who can go to this place, especially around Christmas time, to give their dolls and toys a new life, enhancing what they already have.
How did the idea of the Ospedale delle Bambole come about and what is the history of this atelier-museum?
The sign ‘Ospedale delle Bambole’ was put up outside my great-grandfather’s atelier, in Via San Biagio dei Librai 81 in Naples, in 1895. Luigi Grassi was a set designer for the puppet theatre and he often found himself repairing some who lost a limb or head in battle. He was called ‘doctor’ because he always wore a smock, so as not to get paint on it. One day, a lady brought him a broken doll and asked him to try to fix it: he succeeded and word spread in the neighbourhood that there was a doctor who cured dolls. Soon the shop was filled with doll parts and a lady passing by exclaimed “Me pare o ‘spital de’ bambule” (It seems to me like the doll hospital). My great-grandfather lit up and without wasting any time took a wooden board and with red paint wrote ‘Ospedale delle Bambole’ and put a cross on it.
After him it was the turn of Michele, my grandfather, Cavaliere del Lavoro della Repubblica Italiana (Knight of Labour of the Italian Republic), who ran the workshop during the war years and is said to repair dolls ‘at the price of a smile’. The atelier first gained fame with my father, Luigi Grassi, who was able to keep the business alive at a time when the old town was the scene of Camorra feuds. His atelier was called ‘Aladdin’s lamp’: the only place that emanated light and attracted tourism in years of terror and discouragement for the merchants of Spaccanapoli. The intellectuals of the time and many artists have been customers: Renzo Arbore, Marisa Laurito, Roberto de Simone, Peppe Barra, the De Filippo…
Then I came along and, after years spent keeping this art alive in the world of restoration in the years of consumerism, eight years ago I decided to move the 18 m2 workshop to the stables of Palazzo Marigliano: a 150 m2 atelier-museum that could tell our story, accommodate everything that the three generations before me have conserved, with painstaking care, in warehouses scattered around the historic centre, and ‘revive’ the theme of restoration, telling our visitors how important it is not to abandon a beloved object.
What was your training?
When I was young I was a model, my father kept me quite far from the shop, he said it was not a profession for young women. When I turned 23, I had decided that I wanted to do the job at all costs. I had already taken a diploma in porcelain work and restoration and done courses in restoration, papier-mâché modelling and a masterclass in the Lenci company. I thought Dad would immediately put me by his side, but instead he sent me to be a ‘workshop girl’ for a few years: I had to know how to work with materials! So he sent me to the turner, the framer, the ceramist. When he found me suitable, I joined him and he explained to me the secrets of his trade, how to work with celluloid, how to change the eyes, how to fix the arms of dolls.
It was difficult for me to gain the respect of the neighbourhood: our trade is a craft and the craftsman – in the collective imagination – was a man, white hair and glasses. I was tall, beautiful, blond and young, and when customers came to the workshop and found me they would ask for ‘o’ doctor‘, “o” professor’. My father would come and take charge of the doll. He opened a shop for me inside a building fifty metres from the main office and sent customers to me to pick up the doll: only then did they discover that it was me who had repaired it! With my father’s illness, I became ‘head doctor’ of the Ospedale delle Bambole and people no longer had any scruples about coming to me.
I also set up the Plush Veterinary Outpatient Clinic and, thanks to this, I held workshops in the early 2000s at the Naples Zoo for all the children in the city who had a broken soft toy. One of the busiest wards in the hospital even today!
Eight years ago I decided to move to the new premises and here the restoration activity increased exponentially. Unbridled consumerism started more than twenty years ago, and I found myself repairing very few toys. Today, thanks to the museum, which receives tens of thousands of visitors, we manage to restore almost 400 toys a year, as many as my father did in 7/8 years: here I am happy to tell my story to those who decide to come in and immerse themselves in this very special and unexpected world.
What is the mission of the Ospedale delle Bambole?
We try to convey the importance of recycling to children, to combat the unbridled consumerism of our times. Today, children have too many toys and when one breaks, they move on to the next one. They no longer name their favourite toy because they often don’t have one. When we host them, we invite them to come home and choose a toy that they will keep forever. So that one day they can pass it on for generations, as they once did, and perhaps come back to us.
As far as the museum side is concerned, we are interested in making our visitors escape from the feverish contemporary life: when I welcome them, I always like to say that Naples is a very noisy city, inside my museum-shop the only noise you can hear is that of their soul, which becomes a child again for a while. In here you can feel the flavour of childhood and every time I get excited watching people’s eyes shine as if they were six years old. It is beautiful and truly magical.
What does the Ospedale delle Bambole represent for the city of Naples today?
Certainly talking about our work means telling an Italian family story, Made in Naples. The tradition of a family that had to invent a craft and made it known to the world, that has become its own entrepreneur and is trying to slow down time. In addition, I have always supported the importance of artistic craftsmanship and I support that present in the city by hosting and sponsoring local activities. For me, a return to the ancient manual crafts is fundamental, in which technique, quality and prestige reside, all irreplaceable ingredients!
For the city, I believe this place represents tradition, the past and the future that manage to merge into the present and that, with no small effort, makes room in the food tourism and cultural disinterest that unfortunately belongs to the average Italian who visits a city like Naples.
What have been the biggest challenges, and what have been the satisfactions, in carrying on a historic atelier like the Ospedale delle Bambole?
The first challenge, as I said before, was gaining the trust of the neighbourhood, I was young and I didn’t imagine it would be difficult. Afterwards, however, it was a great satisfaction to be, like my father, a ‘beacon’ for the people of the historic centre.
It was a great challenge to keep the trade alive, overburdening myself with expenses that I did not know if they would ever return. Fortunately, for the largest investment there was a Neapolitan art benefactor who financed the setting up of the museum, but the difficulties are not few. It took me almost five years to see all my efforts repaid. My satisfaction is seeing the emotion in the eyes and hearts of my visitors and the joy of all the children and ex-children (now adults) who receive their own fixed toy.
Outside the workshop I have a big book of dedications collected over the years: sometimes I go to read it and the thoughts that are imprinted are the reason why I must not give up and push this place and this story to the stars and more. One child on his way out wrote ‘here the heart still beats’ and that is exactly what it is, here the heart will beat forever.
You have just been awarded (September 2024) the title MAM – Maestro d’Arte e Mestiere (Master of Arts and Crafts), a biennial recognition by the Fondazione Cologni dei Mestieri d’Arte to master craftsmen who stand out for their talent, know-how and high competence. What was it like to receive this title?
It was certainly emotional, after receiving the medallion I cried. I struggled to take this workshop even higher than it was and I fought so that the restoration of the toys would not end. To be rewarded because, even today, I still restore toys is for me the recognition of all the effort I have put in, all the dreams and hopes of my father as well. This is priceless. I am really proud of my work and honoured to have received this title.
What are your future plans for the atelier and the museum?
There are still many, many! Fingers crossed, our space will soon be doubled. There will be a larger operating room, a new exhibition and narrative route, a workshop space and a dedicated shop. The ultimate goal is to become a brand and expand into other sectors and, why not, even land abroad. My sons, Michele, Luca and Leonardo, are not and probably will not be restorers but they work with me and are investing their time, studies and skills to realise a dream that is now theirs too. So I know that this place will have a future and will be prosperous!