Title: Unveiling the Dark History of Anatomical Art
For many years, art and science have been closely linked, especially in the study of human anatomy. Artists and medical illustrators have often used real human bodies as inspiration for their work, creating beautiful and detailed pieces that have fascinated people. However, the stories behind these bodies and how they were obtained reveal a disturbing history. A new exhibition called "Beneath the Sheets: Anatomy, Art and Power" is currently being shown at the Thackray Museum of Medicine in Leeds, UK. This exhibition explores these dark truths.
The exhibition covers five centuries and includes a collection of anatomical prints that carefully show deceased individuals. These figures, often nameless and depicted in great detail, were once used in medical atlases that were important resources for doctors and anatomists. They were also displayed as trophies by wealthy collectors. The unsettling truth is that, similar to Adriaan Adriaanszoon—a petty thief who was depicted in Rembrandt's 1632 painting "The Anatomy Lesson of Dr. Nicolaes Tulp"—none of these individuals agreed to have their naked, dissected bodies shown in books or galleries.
Jamie Taylor, the museum’s director of collections, learning, and programming, stresses the need to question where the bodies shown in anatomical textbooks came from. He points out that these representations often belong to marginalized individuals whose rights have been ignored throughout history. The exhibition encourages visitors to think about the ethical issues surrounding anatomical art and the societal structures that have allowed such exploitation to continue.
Anatomy books have long been seen as essential tools for understanding the human body. John Bell, an 18th-century surgeon and anatomical illustrator, famously said that an anatomy book without illustrations is like a geography book without maps. His detailed engravings gave unprecedented insights into human anatomy, but they also reflect the cultural context of their time. One of the most important works displayed in the exhibition is the title page of Andreas Vesalius's groundbreaking book, "De Humani Corporis Fabrica," published in 1543. This book was revolutionary because it showcased human anatomy drawn directly from dissected bodies.
Vesalius's dissection of an executed sex worker in front of a male audience clearly shows the power dynamics involved. The surgeon's higher social status contrasted sharply with that of the dissection subject, highlighting the exploitation inherent in the practice. The exhibition notes that the market for these lavishly illustrated medical books often conflicted with the socioeconomic status of the individuals depicted within their pages.
In the 19th century, advancements in lithography allowed for the production of brightly colored medical texts. Dr. Jack Gann, the curator of the exhibition, points out that many of these works, such as JM Bourgery's "Complete Atlas of Human Anatomy and Surgery" from 1866, were displayed in the homes of the wealthy, further emphasizing the disconnect between the creators of these illustrations and the bodies they represented.
The case of Mary Billion illustrates the lack of control many women had over their bodies after death. After she died in 1775, her husband, a dentist, embalmed her and exhibited her in his dental practice, dressed in her wedding gown. This disturbing display continued until his second wife insisted that the body be moved to a museum. Such instances reveal the troubling reality of how some medical practitioners exploited the deceased for personal gain.
The relationship between art and anatomy has a long history, especially during the Renaissance. Artists like Leonardo da Vinci and Michelangelo studied dissected bodies to improve the realism of their paintings. Early anatomical atlases often depicted bodies in poses similar to classical sculptures, merging science and art. For example, William Cheselden's "The Anatomy of the Human Body," published in 1741, features skinless figures in dynamic poses, evoking the strength of mythological heroes.
However, the demand for cadavers for dissection became increasingly difficult due to legal restrictions, such as the 1823 Judgement of Death Act, which reduced the number of capital offenses. This led to the rise of a black market for bodies, with "resurrection men" stealing corpses from graves to sell to medical schools. To protect their loved ones, families took measures like placing heavy stones on graves or using "mortsafes"—cages designed to deter grave robbers.
The situation for the poor and executed criminals was particularly dire. For instance, the relatives of John Worthington, a highwayman executed in 1815, took the extreme step of dousing his body in acid to prevent dissection. The notorious serial killers William Hare and William Burke in Scotland took this exploitation to a horrific level, murdering individuals to supply the Edinburgh anatomy school with fresh corpses. Their actions led to the public dissection of Burke, who was sentenced to death for his crimes, with his skeleton now displayed in the University of Edinburgh's Anatomical Museum.
The exhibition also includes a drawing of Mary Paterson, a victim of Hare and Burke, whose body was exploited after her death. Curator Dr. Gann highlights the ethical dilemmas surrounding the depiction of such figures, emphasizing that while the illustrations may be visually appealing, they represent the continued exploitation of marginalized individuals.
Anatomical illustrations often blur the lines between science, art, and eroticism, reflecting the cultural preferences of their creators. For example, in one of Nicolas Henri Jacob's illustrations for Bourgery, the depiction of disembodied hands probing a dissected breast raises questions about the objectification of the female body.
Michael Sappol, in his work "Queer Anatomies," argues that anatomical illustrations often evoke pleasure for those who create and view them. Joseph Maclise's "Surgical Anatomy," published in 1851, features male figures in poses that suggest vulnerability and submission, prompting discussions about the underlying desires of the artist.
Despite advancements in medical education, the use of unclaimed bodies from workhouses and infirmaries continued. Henry Gray's "Gray's Anatomy," published in the late 19th century, provided a more accessible resource for medical students, yet it too was rooted in the exploitation of the deceased.
The use of voiceless victims in the advancement of medical science continued into the 20th century. Eduard Pernkopf's "Atlas of Topographical and Applied Human Anatomy," created under the Nazi regime, featured the bodies of executed prisoners. More recently, the Visible Human Project, which produced a digital archive of the human body, used the remains of Joseph Paul Jernigan, a convicted murderer who had consented to donate his body for medical research.
As the exhibition comes to a close, Dr. Gann poses a critical question: "How far have we really come?" "Beneath the Sheets: Anatomy, Art and Power" invites visitors to reflect on the ethical implications of anatomical art and the historical exploitation of marginalized bodies. The exhibition runs from February 7 to June 21 at the Thackray Museum of Medicine, encouraging a deeper understanding of the complex relationship between art, science, and the human experience.
