Where pigs hog all the glory

Dinosaurs were pig-headed. So are professors, cabaret dancers, chefs and orchestra musicians. The piano, too – its exterior may be monochrome, but its heart is porcine pink. Which is why each note is a hat-tip to hog lingo.

In this 800 square metre space in Stuttgart, Germany, everything is a pig.

After all, swines are spectacular (they're one of the most intelligent species, cleaner than commonly believed and savour – not gorge on – food) and deserve more acclaim than they get. So until that happens, Erika Wilhelmer will give them as many pedestals as possible.

"They're stubborn, but funny. Did you know they have a sense of humour?" smiles the flame-haired 75-year-old. "Nobody can estimate the value of a pig."

Austria-born, German-bred Wilhelmer is one of Stuttgart's forces to reckon with. Her SchweineMuseum (pig museum) may be just 10 minutes' walking distance from the Mercedes Benz Museum, but you'd be mistaken if you think it doesn't hold fort against a multi-storey showcase by the world's first carmaker.

With 50,000 exhibits in 29 theme rooms across two floors, SchweineMuseum is more than just the world's largest pig museum. It's a space so distinctive in the city – the cradle of the global automobile industry – and a labour of love so magnified, it attracts around 70,000 visitors annually.

This safehouse for all things swine is the only place one will get to see the aforesaid dinosaur diorama. Its theme rooms include a 'Pig Strong Room' (where 5,000-plus piggy banks find themselves at home), 'Pig Pile' (thousands of plush toys piled into multiple heaps) and the 'Divine Swine' and adults-only pig erotica sections (folks with humerus minimus, stay away). Metal, wood, porcelain and even chocolate collectibles range from corkscrews, ashtrays and Balinese pig masks to salt shakers, literature and artefacts. Each hallway is adorned by commissioned, purchased or donated works of art reminiscent of Van Gogh, Picasso and Warhol.

Of course, these artworks feature the hog in all its glory.

"Many knickknacks are worth thousands (of Euros), but like I said before, pigs are priceless," grins Wilhelmer.

There's more to SchweineMuseum's owner-curator than her obsession for pig collectibles though. The septuagenarian owns eight eateries in Stuttgart, including the museum's charming in-house restaurant Stuttgarter Schlachthof (Stuttgart Slaughterhouse) and an outdoor beer garden, which together accommodate up to 600 patrons. Son Michael, at the helm of Wilhelmer Gastronomie GmbH, is one of the city's most successful restaurateurs. Delicacies at Stuttgarter Schlachthof include crisp pork knuckle and grilled suckling pig.

In case one is wondering, SchweineMuseum has a contemporary history audio stream about the ills of commercial pig farming, which Wilhelmer is dead against.

As tour groups stream into the museum – giggles and gasps of amazement are aplenty – Wilhelmer pores over logs of her latest purchases. She's meticulous at record-keeping, what with every collectible she's bought over the decades being accounted for. "I got this at a garage sale last week," she beams, holding up a (pig) Venetian mask. "My hunt takes me across the world. I've found some of my best pieces in flea markets." Many visitors, she adds, donate their personal pieces to the museum.

Look deeper, and one finds that museums like these – typecast as 'museums of oddities' – are as much citadels of passion and determination as they are about the collections, a breath of fresh air from the typically antiseptic surroundings of more renowned museums. For one, Wilhelmer waited 20 years to acquire the building for her museum. Until then, her collection was sheltered in a small property in the town of Bad Wimpfen, some 70km away.

When Wilhelmer finally got her way, it cost her 3.2 million Euros to turn the property – a former slaughterhouse which was destroyed during World War II – into an art nouveau pig museum in 2010. And she's loved every bit of the journey.

"The only thing I miss is having a pet pig," she sighs. "But one can't have that in a city, no?"

Until then, the grand dame will oversee each of her 50,000 treasures. Which includes the jewel in the crown: the 10-tonne, 13 metre-long Sauli Drammli or Piggy Tram.