It was a grave day for taxidermists when the Museum of Morbid Anatomy closed its doors in 2016. For two years, the Brooklyn museum was a shrine to the arcane and strange. Now, it’s back from the dead for a residency at a local graveyard.

“Life, Death, and Rebirth” is on display at the Green-Wood Cemetery through June 24. It includes a painting of a city in post-apocalyptic turmoil, miniature dolls used in Korea to shuttle the dead through the underworld, and tin miniatures of breasts and eyeballs left by the graves of saints in Naples.

Among the deathly objects is a replica of the museum itself—as it appeared in its final weeks at its old location in Gowanus, Brooklyn.

“It’s the closest to time travel I’ve ever gotten,” said co-founder Joanna Ebenstein. The museum began with her personal collection of death-related objects. At the time she was keeping a blog, and her readers were curious to see the books she referenced, which couldn’t be purchased in the United States.

“I started inviting them to my home,” Ebenstein said. “But my boyfriend wasn’t comfortable with that.”

She moved the collection to an office space in Gowanus and opened it up to the public. At first she thought she would meet with her readers occasionally, and continue illustrating book covers most of the time—but so many people arrived, she didn’t have time to work on the graphics. By 2014 her library had grown into a full museum at storefront on 3rd Avenue.

For the following two years, the museum featured exhibits of oft-neglected subjects including the art of mourning, sacred spaces, the collector’s cabinet and the dark arts. But by 2016, it was out of cash. The museum closed its doors abruptly at the end of the year, and Ebenstein returned her library to its mobile roots.

“It’s the natural cycle,” she said.

Earlier this year the Green-Wood Cemetery offered its gatehouse for a residency, and she leaped at the opportunity to revive the collection. The 1building looks like a Victorian parlor: stained glass windows line the walls, and a winding staircase leads to an attic upstairs. In the 19th century ladies used the room to freshen up after the carriage ride to the graves. Ebenstein says it’s the best home the museum has ever had.

Still, she is happy to have the replica of the old building on hand to admire as well. It has the gift cards the museum sold in the gift shop, and miniature copies of the vinyl records they kept in the cafe. Morbid Anatomy’s arcane media analyst, Joel Schlemowitz, went to work building the diorama when it became clear the museum would close. The project took him eight months to complete.

Initially, Ebenstein says the replica wasn’t part of the official display. She intended to place it among the Morbid Anatomy books in the attic on the second floor, but it was so large she couldn’t get it up the stairs. In retrospect, she says it’s a fitting addition to an exhibit about memorializing the dead.

As she puts it, “If the Museum of Morbid Anatomy can’t deal with death and rebirth, then who can?”