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Anatomical Museum, MUSA

  
 3Stars10px  - darkometer rating: 7 -
 
MUSA 01   rows of pretty wood and glass display cabinetsA medical museum in Naples, Italy, with an incredibly rich collection of specimens, wax models and lots more – an extraordinary hidden gem, tucked away inside a working university. Those with a leaning towards all things medical will be fascinated – but it’s not for the squeamish! Some of the specimens on display are truly gruesome.
More background info: The beginnings of this collection go back to the first half of the 17th century, when it was established by Naples surgeon and anatomist Marco Aurelio Severino. Initial specimens were collected from a nearby hospital.
 
One anatomist of an infamous reputation who contributed to the collection was a certain Efisio Marini, who invented a specific method of “petrification” of body parts. He kept the exact nature of his method a secret and took this with him to his grave in 1900.
 
The collection became one of the most significant ones of its type over the centuries. In 1901 it was moved to its present location and is part of the University of Campania Luigi Vanvitelli. The museum suffered damage both during WWII and especially during the earthquake of 1980. After a long period of being neglected and almost abandoned, the exhibition reopened its doors to the general public in 1997.
 
In 2012 it became part of the newly created MUSA – Museo Universitario delle Scienze e delle Arti, i.e. the University Museum of Science and the Arts. The Anatomical Museum is its most important section (others include a pharmaceutical collection and a modern art collection, as well as a historical library).
 
Though officially named “Museo di Anatomia Umana” it’s not limited to human anatomy but also has some sections with animal specimens.
 
When I travelled to Naples in January 2026 I wasn’t even aware of the existence of this museum. But after I spotted a brown tourist sign with its name on near where I had rented a self-catering apartment, I searched for it online and quickly decided to try and slot a visit in.
 
After I finally tracked the location down (which is a bit tricky – see below), paid for my ticket and stepped inside I was blown away. I had not expected such a vast collection – nor had I thought that I’d be free to take photos (most other medical museums have a strict no-photography policy in place). So I exploited that opportunity and quickly took loads of pictures rather than studying all the exhibits in detail while there. That’s because I was in a bit of a hurry as I’d slotted the visit in spontaneously just before heading out to Herculaneum, which I knew would require a lot of time. But I’m so glad I did make this discovery. This is possibly the best museum of its type I’ve ever seen anywhere.
 
 
What there is to see: A lot! This collection is huge and full of truly remarkable specimens.
 
The exhibits are on display in historic glass-fronted wooden cabinets that are remarkable museum pieces in themselves. But what they contain steals the show.
 
There are wax models of body parts, including half-opened human heads as well as an obstetrics section (showing babies in the womb), and there are also a few whole-body preparations, and one bust shows gruesome wounds to the face. A few models exemplify some extreme deformities, a couple almost looking like alien organisms.
 
One section is dedicated to Efisio Marini (see above) and it includes some of his “petrifications”. Moreover there are a couple of shrinkheads and two examples of “calcination”, including the sleeping-beauty-like bust of a young woman. Smokers will probably want to avoid the display of several blackened smokers’ lungs.
 
Furthermore there are skeletons, especially those of children including several skeletons of conjoined twins, and a large collection of skulls. Amongst the latter are some skulls from Pompeii as well as those from four people who had been executed in 1800 and whose skulls were phrenologically examined (that’s according to the then fashionable but long since debunked theory that mental characteristics such as “a criminal mind” would have equivalent physical markers on the skull).
 
The most gruesome exhibits are those of deformed babies in jars of formaldehyde or alcohol. There are tiny foetuses, conjoined twins, a cyclops, two specimens showing anencephaly and a couple with hydrocephaly, and much, much more. Some are truly bizarre, such as the one with an open skull that seems to be full of hair (the German word “Strohkopf” came to my mind) and another that seems to be devouring its own intestines. But there was also one endearing exhibit of two babies in a jar who seem to be tenderly embracing one another.
 
In addition to the majority of exhibits that pertain to humans, there are also a smaller number of animal exhibits, including skulls, skeletons and also wet specimens in formaldehyde, such as a double-headed goat or sheep (I can’t remember which it was).
 
This is a prime case of pictures saying much more than words – so I refer you to the photo gallery below!
 
Some exhibits had labels here and there, a few had short explanatory text panels (in Italian only), while many others came with no information at the displays themselves; but I’ve meanwhile found out that you can download (for free) an app with an audio guide to the exhibits of the MUSA that also comes with a version in English (you can use the QR codes placed in various corners at the exhibition itself, or just search for MUSA in your app store).
 
Since I was in a bit of a hurry (catching a train to Herculaneum straight afterwards), I didn’t bother with any such information and concentrated solely on the visual aspects and took lots of photos. That way I probably didn’t do the exhibition justice and could have spent a lot longer there had it been under different conditions.
 
Still, I can confidently say that this was one of the best medical exhibitions I’ve seen anywhere and it was a highlight, even though too short, of my trip to Naples in January 2026. Highly recommended for anyone with at least some interest in all things medical. Others will have to decide for themselves whether they could handle the sight of some of those very horrific deformities and depictions of diseases (including VD). Those are definitely not for the squeamish.
 
 
Location: inside the medical department of the University of Campania, housed in a palatial building off Via Luciano Armanni in the northern part of the historic centre of Naples.
 
Google Maps locator (main uni entrance): [40.8532, 14.2556]
 
 
Access and costs: A bit tricky to find, somewhat restricted opening times; inexpensive.
 
Details: The museum is a gem, but it is a hidden gem. The entrance to the university building is easy enough to find – and it’s walkable from within the city centre of Naples. The nearest public transport would be the metro (station Cavour).
 
When coming via the street corner at the Museo Tipografia note that the brown sign for the “Museo di anatomia umana” is bent out of its proper place so that it points in a somewhat wrong direction. Instead you have to turn into Via L. Armanni to the right.
 
Once you’re at the university it gets much trickier. I first tried to use the stairs in the wing that the overview map by the main entrance said the Anatomical Museum would be in, but I couldn’t find a way through. I then used the lift – to be found at the north-eastern corner of the main courtyard at the end of the colonnades, behind the second doorway. The numbering of the floors in that lift is a tad confusing as it gives you 1, 2 and 3 (so like the American way of floor numbering). Here you have to press “3” to get to the second floor (called “Primo Piano”, i.e. ‘first floor’, on the map as the floor below is classed as a mezzanine). From up there you have to make your way through several rooms/corridors … and since it’s a working university it can be busy with students revising or studying in groups. But that way you can also ask for directions. There are signs too, but since it felt like I was intruding into the students’ space I was reluctant to just race through and follow the signs. The students were quite friendly and pointed me in the right direction. Eventually I came to the entrance and at a desk sat a woman selling admission tickets.
 
Admission: 6€ (some concessions apply).
 
Opening times: only on weekdays, from 10 a.m. to 2 p.m., on Wednesdays to 4 p.m., closed weekends (and presumably also on public holidays).
 
Nominally there is a cap of a maximum of 25 people allowed inside the museum at any one time. But when I visited I found the museum empty and no other visitors turned up while I was there.
 
Astonishingly there are no signs prohibiting photography, so I snapped away to my heart’s content.
 
 
Time required: I spent only some 20 minutes or so in the museum (as I was under time pressure), which didn’t do it justice, really; so for a proper visit you should factor in between 45 and 90 minutes; and if you are a real medical (history) buff you might want longer than that.
 
 
Combinations with other dark destinations: The nearest other dark attraction covered on this website would be the Napoli Sotterranea Centro Storico (historic centre) guided tours of the Neapolitan underground. And from there it’s also not far to the Chiesa di Santa Luciella ai Librai.
 
For more see under Naples in general.
 
 
Combinations with non-dark destinations: Being located in the historic centre of Naples, the museum is not far from a whole range of more mainstream tourist attractions, such as the Cathedral, the Archaeological Museum or the tourist artery that is Via dei Tribunali.
 
See also under Naples in general.