Palazzo Te in Mantua is hosting, from September 26, 2026 to January 10, 2027, the exhibition Inventing Nature. Leonardo, Arcimboldo, Caravaggio, curated by Barbara Furlotti and Guido Rebecchini. The exhibition, conceived on the occasion of the Cinquecentenario, is set in dialogue with the exceptional decorative apparatus designed by Giulio Romano, offering an in-depth investigation into the relationship between the natural world, artistic production and the culture of the court in the 16th century.

The exhibition, produced by the Municipality of Mantua and Fondazione Palazzo Te, presents works by Leonardo, Arcimboldo, Caravaggio, Annibale and Agostino Carracci, along with sculptures, drawings, precious objects, exotic materials and automata, from leading Italian and European  museum institutions. The aim of the exhibition is to show nature as a phenomenon to be investigated through science, art and technology, in a constant tension between wonder and awe, bewilderment and desire for control. The Chamber of the Giants, among the palace’s most spectacular rooms, thus becomes a space for reflection on the relationship between artistic order and uncontrollable natural forces. The exhibition is divided into seven thematic sections: Create, Destroy, Surprise, Know, Reproduce, Amaze and Animate.

In sixteenth-century Europe the way of seeing and thinking about Nature changes. Unknown objects and creatures brought from overseas, together with new ideas and observations, complicate and enrich the traditional visions of the Cosmos as the expression of divine power and Nature as the book of Creation, arousing a renewed interest in the relationship between human and non-human.
The world begins to be seen through new eyes: Nature still arouses wonder and fear, but it is also the object of inquiry and study. Artists and mathematicians, philosophers and artisans examine and reproduce its forms and the vital processes that bring it to life.


Nature becomes a source of investigation that challenges accepted wisdom. Within the setting of Palazzo Te, where deities, humans and natural forces converge and collide, the exhibition reflects on this sea change, inviting us to rethink our relationship with Nature and to rebuild a link that today seems ever more fragile.


Creation and destruction go hand in hand. In the sixteenth century, life was frequently upended by natural disasters such as earthquakes, floods, fires and plagues. Superhuman, enigmatic events were at times seen as divine punishment for sins to be atoned for, while at other times they were examined and interpreted through various accounts and mythical visions in an effort to reveal their mystery. This is suggested by the Colmeda altarpiece, a work created for public devotion following a catastrophic flood, while Leonardo da Vinci imagined a storm unleashed by a merciless deity with puffed out cheeks. Where the sketches of Giambologna and Tribolo depict unruly, untameable rivers as bearded, Herculean old men, in the Sistine Chapel tapestry the earthquake becomes a giant who, gripped by fury, shatters the earth’s crust.

Jacopo Bassano, Madonna and Child with Saint Anthony of Padua and Saint Crescentius of Mainz (Colmeda Altarpiece)
1576, oil on canvas
Feltre, Chiesa di Santa Maria degli Angeli

On 27 June 1564, after days of torrential rain, the Colmeda watercourse swelled dangerously and finally burst its banks with great force at Tezze, a hamlet of Feltre, sweeping away houses, mills, livestock, people and belongings.
The historic event is vividly depicted in this altarpiece, which serves as a collective ex-voto dedicated to the Virgin, to whom the community of Tezze turned for protection following the disaster.
In the lower part of the painting, the artist Jacopo Bassano appears to identify man as the primary cause of the catastrophe. In the sixteenth century — just as today — intensive land use and aggressive deforestation compromised the delicate balance of the countryside.

Workshop of Pieter van Aelst (after a design by Raphael), Saint Paul in Prison and an Earthquake
1517–1521, wool, silk, gilt-silver thread
Vatican City, Musei Vaticani

The tapestry, part of a famous series woven to a design by Raphael for the Sistine Chapel, illustrates an episode from the life of Saint Paul recounted in the Acts of the Apostles (16:16–40).
Imprisoned in Macedonia together with his companion Silas for preaching the Gospel, Paul is freed by divine intervention, manifested as a violent earthquake powerful enough to shake the prison to its foundations.
The natural event is depicted as a colossal figure, whose destructive force extends beyond the borders of the tapestry. The same explosive effect is staged by Giulio Romano in the adjoining Chamber of the Giants.

Niccolò Tribolo, River Deity
c. 1540–1550, clay, wax
Florence, Museo Nazionale del Bargello

In this sketch, probably a study for a garden fountain, Tribolo reworks the classical iconography of the river deity in a dynamic key.
In place of the traditional figure reclining comfortably, one elbow resting on an overflowing vase, Tribolo imagines the river god as an elderly yet athletic man. His body is depicted in a dynamic twist that suggests an underlying, restrained energy, as if he is on the verge of emptying the entire contents of the vase beside him in a single, swift movement.

Giants in the making
Giambologna’s two terracotta models have been linked to the design phase of the colossal grotto-fountain of the Appennine, built in the 1580s at the Medici Villa di Pratolino, not far from Florence.
The sculptor initially conceived a river deity, later transforming the figure into a dynamic mountain-giant.
In the Appennine Colossus in particular, the rough treatment of the terracotta heightens the naturalistic force of the figure’s expression: the material seems to come alive before our eyes, as the giant, pushing up on his left hand, rises to create a spring of water.

Drawing catastrophe
Leonardo da Vinci created numerous drawings illustrating natural events — from atmospheric phenomena to calamities such as storms, floods and landslides. In these two sketches, Leonardo’s characteristic scientific curiosity and analytical powers of observation are complemented by concerns of a more purely artistic nature. Aware of the limits of human perception, the artist-scientist strove to render two highly destructive, dynamic events intelligible: a storm overwhelming trees, men and animals, and the collapse of a mountain, perhaps brought down by man to facilitate quarrying.

Giambologna, Allegory of the Apennines
before 1580, terracotta
Florence, Museo Nazionale del Bargello

Leonardo da Vinci, Landslide
c. 1512–1518, black chalk
Windsor Castle, The Royal Library. Lent by His Majesty King Charles III

Leonardo da Vinci, Storm
c. 1513–1518, black chalk, pen and brown ink, diluted brown ink, heightened with white lead
Windsor Castle, The Royal Library. Lent by His Majesty King Charles III


Entering the artificial grotto of a sixteenth-century garden meant immersing all the senses in a mysterious environment full of surprises.
The irregular surfaces of limestone rocks, river pebbles and shells invited the eye and the hand to explore a varied, ever-changing material; the gurgling of water accompanied visitors along a series of fountains and small waterfalls, while the damp air, coolness and vegetation created the impression of being in an untouched paradise. The secrets of Nature became a source of wonder and delight. The bronze birds on display here, attributed to the sculptors Bartolomeo Ammannati and Giambologna and inspired by models observed from life, were originally placed in a grotto at the Medici’s Villa Castello, just outside Florence. Among the rocks of that sheltered spot, the animals found an idyllic refuge, just as the visitors who admired them did. With its rich repertoire of creatures — some, in bronze, now held at the Bargello, others, in marble, still in situ — the grotto was a space where nature and artifice were superbly intertwined.
The success of these grottoes is reflected at Palazzo Te in the Grotto of the Apartment of the Secret Garden, built at the end of the sixteenth century.

Bartolomeo Ammannati (attr.), Eagle Owl
1567–1568, bronze
Florence, Museo Nazionale del Bargello

Giambologna (attr.), Eagle
1567–1568, bronze
Florence, Museo Nazionale del Bargello

Bartolomeo Ammannati (attr.), Hen Pheasant
1567–1568, bronze
Florence, Museo Nazionale del Bargello

Reproduce | Chamber of the Candelabra

Know | Chamber of the Caryatids

From wonder to imitation: the automata exhibited here show how people in the 1500s tried to copy nature by creating machines that mimic the way living things move. Using mechanical parts, these creations blend art and engineering to show how understanding can help us imitate real-life phenomena. The word ‘automaton’ comes from the Greek, meaning ‘acting of its own accord’. In the West, the invention of these machines is traced in particular to the great mathematicians of the Greek tradition, above all Hero of Alexandria (1st century AD). A mathematician, engineer and astronomer, Hero designed mechanisms driven by water pressure, steam or compressed air. Some, such as war machines, served practical purposes; others reproduced the complex rotations of the heavenly bodies or the movement of animal and human figures, filling spectators with wonder.

During the Renaissance, the use of these mechanisms spread to a wide range of objects: from the tiny watches that European elites wore proudly on their fingers, to the great astrological dials that adorned civic towers, such as the one in Piazza delle Erbe in Mantova; from garden fountains that, driven by water pressure, produced music, sudden jets of water and even rainbows, as at the Fontana dell’Organo in Tivoli, to the automata on display here. Paired with table clocks or used at court, these precious objects offer a rare glimpse of the great age of Renaissance automata.

In search of movement
Made around the turn of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, the automata on display here were considered luxury objects, valued for their high-quality materials — bronze, steel, silver — and for the ingenuity of their mechanisms.
In the three table clocks, the automata play a decorative role.
In the tower clock that once belonged to Ferrante Gonzaga of Castiglione, the automaton takes the form of a carousel related to the myth of Actaeon who, having surprised Diana bathing, was turned into a stag and torn apart by his own hounds.
The Biblioteca Ambrosiana Diana, by contrast, was a convivial game: when wound with a spring, the figure would move across the table, and whoever it stopped in front of would remove the stag’s head and drink the wine concealed inside the animal’s body.

Joachim Friess, Automaton with Diana the Huntress
c. 1610–1620, gilt silver
Milan, Ambrosiana

Augsburg manufacture, Clock-Automaton with Bear and Turkish Tamer
c. 1580–1590, gilt bronze, silver
Giordano Art Collections

German manufacture, Clock-Automaton with Ostrich and African Tamer
16th century, brass, gilt copper
Giordano Art Collections

German or Polish manufacture, Table Globe Clock with Automaton in the Form of a Turk
c. 1590–1610, gilt copper, silver
Milan, Museo Poldi Pezzoli

Nikolaus Schmidt the Elder, Tower Clock with Carousel of Automata
c. 1580–1585, gilt bronze, silver
Paris, Collection Kugel