Mostrando las entradas con la etiqueta mental institution. Mostrar todas las entradas
Mostrando las entradas con la etiqueta mental institution. Mostrar todas las entradas

lunes, 25 de junio de 2012

The Belfry, Oddities and Collectables.


 Recently discovered this little gem.... The Belfry, a pair of curators and collectors of the odd, the creepy and all things macabre run this gorgeous House of Curios. 

A wonderful collection of old religious paraphernalia, antique medical equipment, taxidermy and art are housed in this little shop of treasures, the pricing is very reasonable and many of the antiques are very rare and unusual. 

There is a human skeleton for sale housed in a vintage, unearthed coffin; a Victorian Veterinarian's travel bag  complete with medicines, needles, ID cards and medical documents; complete sets of human teeth; a collection of rare and antique taxidermy; a child-sized embalming table, a collection of Victorian Mourning hair portraits and post-mortem photography, and an assortment of other weird and wonderful delights.

Definitely worth taking a look; the curators are very friendly and knowledgeable, and have a real appreciation for curios and oddities....it's pretty easy to spend a paycheck in this place however...you have been warned!!





































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viernes, 8 de junio de 2012

Sanatorio Lohner



Nestled in a Swiss valley, a small sanatorium lies at about 3,770 feet above sea level and surrounded by beauty. The institution was constructed in 1905 as a private hospital to treat tuberculosis. The 5-story main building is symmetrical and decorated in Art Nouveau style; inside were 76 patient rooms, a breakfast room, a recreation room, sterilization rooms, and various offices. 

Two large verandas faced south towards the opposite side of the valley, and were used for heliotherapy (light therapy) and fresh air treatments. The main building is attached to a semicircular medical villa resting on supports, built in 1934. The facility also includes a doctor's residence, wash house, and staff house. In 1919 the government purchased the property for 470,000 francs and used the sanatorium as a military hospital until 1920. Tuberculosis treatment resumed until the gradual eradication of the disease reduced the number of patients - the hospital was eventually shuttered in 1962.

The doctor's residence is still being lived in, however the rest of the property has begun to deteriorate. Although the main building is in good condition for being closed for so long, it does require some rehabilitation work, while the laundry building is in very poor shape. The once-grand front lawn adorned with a large fountain is now a grazing field for a herd of goats.
* Note: the name "Sanatorio Lohner" is a pseudonym; the real name of this location is currently undisclosed.

























 
























































via Opacity

martes, 1 de mayo de 2012

Silent Creatures







WARNING: GRAPHIC DISTURBING PHOTOS BELOW:

On January 12, 1833, the first public asylum for the insane in Massachusetts was opened in the scenic hills of Worcester. It was called the Bloomingdale Asylum, and by the latter half of the 19th century, it was already overcrowded beyond capacity. Funds were appropriated to construct a larger and more grandiose hospital called the Worcester Insane Asylum in the same vicinity.

Construction on the Kirkbride-plan hospital began in 1870 and was completed seven years later. Designed by architect Ward P. Delano of the firm Fuller & Delano of Worcester, the flagstone and brick building stood four stories tall, and between the 500 foot wings stood a beautiful clock tower, poised above the central administration building. On an interesting note, renowned psychiatrist Sigmund Freud visited the hospital in 1909 during his only trip to America.


A massive fire engulfed the Kirkbride building on July 22, 1991, destroying almost all of the roof and floors, save for the right most wing and the administration building. The burned out shells of the other areas were bulldozed and the extra stone was used to seal up the gaping holes left by the connections to the remaining sections.
The hospital still functions as a psychiatric facility in a large, newer building near the Kirkbride building, which now threatens to close as well.
2008 Update: The wings of the Kirkbride building are being demolished, along with the two historic rotundas and employee residences. The only older structure that is to be saved seems to be the administration building and clock tower.

A book entitled A Century of Silence - Echoes from a Massachusetts Landscape (The Herodotus Press, ISBN: 9780952541417) details the life of an Irish emigrant family in 1900s America. It traces the events of the author Norman Mongan's granduncle, who was admitted to Worcester State Hospital on several occasions, then ultimately ending his life by hanging himself at the hospital in 1903. Transcripts from doctor's interviews were meticulously dug up by the author and included verbatim in the book.

WARNING: GRAPHIC DISTURBING PHOTOS BELOW:

 











 





A first-hand account of the hospital:

"I was quite surprised when I saw the hospital for the first time in real person... the administration is a bit strange looking, with the clock tower seeming to be top heavy, but the building carried a presence of awe inspiring fortitude. The detail was incredible, and the wards were very prison-esque in the fact that the windows had thick, heavy jail bars laid across them (although it's difficult to tell from the outside since most of them are boarded or bricked up).

Inside the wards started out interesting... a basement room full of antique electronics kept us busy for a while. Then we walked into a wide tiled hallway which got us excited... surgery? Morgue? No, lots of little benches... really weird. I wandered into the back of the large room and stood there for a few minutes, trying to comprehend what I was seeing. It was a giant shower room, with about twenty stalls, and in the center was a caged area with dials for water temperature; essentially a place where the patients were hosed down en-masse. Perhaps this hospital was once overcrowded and understaffed, but this just didn't sit right with me. Worcester State was the first hospital I have visited where I felt such a strong feeling of sadness.

We made out way upstairs, and explored the very empty wards, constantly dodging bats flying into our faces; you can't hear them coming until they're right on top of you! The fire department seemed to have been using some of the rooms to train in, some had mazes that you had to crawl around in the pitch blackness, I would guess in full gear. There were a few bed frames left, and some miscellaneous objects, but the place was pretty much massive and empty."


















































































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