As with Otto Henry’s globe this 1591 astronomical calculator made of gilded brass and silver, called an equation clock, didn’t sacrifice accuracy in pursuit of splendor. It was created jointly by a goldsmith and a clockmaker at the request of accomplished astronomer William IV, landgrave of Hesse-Kassel. The moving hands indicate the difference, or equation, between the sun’s true and mean movement—between time on a sundial in which days vary slightly in length and time on a clock, which assumes all days are exactly 24 hours. This tabletop modeling of the heavens, resplendent with precise markings, accurate movements, and precious metals, was one of several celestial models commissioned by William IV as diplomatic gifts to princes of the Holy Roman Empire.

Augustus commissioned this fancy mechanical odometer in the 1580s. Made of brass and steel with gilding, engraving, and etching, it was a worthy investment for a princely Kunstkammer. Augustus owned several of these odometers, which were deemed accurate enough that the elector himself linked an earlier model to a carriage wheel and used it in 1575 to measure the distance by road from his home to the Diet of Regensburg.

Mining and metallurgy blossomed in the 16th century. Major silver deposits were discovered near Freiberg in Thuringia, and Europeans brought silver by the ton from the New World. Heads of state took a hands-on approach in the supervision of mining and smelting operations. Many also hired alchemists for the assaying, work that included using high heat to draw metals out of an ore sample and then to separate precious metals from lead. Often called cupellation, these steps were performed in small enclosed ovens, such as this alchemical furnace made of steel, lined with firebrick, and decorated with mythological scenes incised on silver plates. This assay oven was made for Augustus in the 1570s.

Not everything in the Met’s show is so directly utilitarian. As with the original Kunstkammern the exhibition encompasses jewelry, hugely expensive furniture pieces made entirely of silver, and an especially large array of automata, whose hidden internal machinery transformed technical ingenuity into entertainment. The more than 20 automata on display include a chess-playing “Turk” and a doll-like figure that writes cursive script. Especially entrancing is a 16-inch-high figure called the Moving Monk, which probably originated in Spain about 1550. It is made of wood and leather, with iron used for the hidden, interior mechanism driven by a wound-up spring. Once started, he walks and then turns repeatedly to describe a square about two feet on a side, while nodding his head naturalistically and turning it from side to side. He also moves one hand to strike his chest as if saying “mea culpa,” and with the other hand raises a rosary toward his lips while his eyes follow the hand movement. This rare and unusual automaton is borrowed from the Smithsonian, which has posted a short video of his movements. In the Met exhibition the monk’s outer robe has been removed so that visitors can view part of the interior clockwork.

The naturalistic exteriors of some of the mechanical animals are striking, and none is more marvelous than a tiny june bug, made circa 1600 of gold, iron, brass, and enamel. It is the exhibition’s smallest item and my favorite. The june bug’s shell is realistically colored, and six tiny legs protrude at the bottom, keeping the minuscule, spring-driven motor entirely hidden under the shell. When released to crawl on a tabletop, it mimics a living insect: legs propel it forward, and fluttering wings suggest it’s about to take flight. The bug is about the size of a large gem, and its self-moving nature meant it could compete for noble guests’ attention even when shown aside such a showstopper as the 41-carat “Dresden Green” diamond, the largest flawless green diamond known. This unique gem entered Dresden’s famous Grünes Gewölbe (Green Vault) collection around 1740. Fortunately, the diamond was already at the Met when thieves broke into the Green Vault a few days before Thanksgiving and stole major pieces of unique 18th-century jewelry.

Nearly 50 museums and private collections loaned these treasures. The result is an unusual show that splendidly showcases the science and technology cultivated at Renaissance courts in northern Europe. Try to see it before it closes on March 1, 2020. And to see a faithful re-creation of a complete Kunstkammer, visit the Chamber of Wonders at Baltimore’s Walters Art Museum, which has a permanent suite of rooms displaying a few hundred examples of naturalia, artificialia, exotica, and memorabilia.