The Human Body Revealed
An
exhibition at the National Museum of Health and Medicine, Washington
DC, until June 2005. Admission
free
http://nmhm.washingtondc.museum/exhibits/revealed/index.html
Rating:
**
For
this exhibition artists have tried to create a model of the human body
by combining real images with hand-drawn pictures, to
"show the body, not as medical illustrations, but as it actually
is." That is to say, the artists have taken anatomical data from
magnetic resonance imaging, computed tomography, and electron
microscopy, reconstructed it in three dimensions, and then added
colour, shadows, and shapes by hand. The result, they say,
"Is the art in science: to turn science into
art."

Close encounters: An image of hair and (below)
below the cardiovascular system
The images come from the latest book
by the journalist and impresario Alexander Tsiaras, whose Anatomical
Travelogue company produces multimedia medical content for
print and television. The inside cover of the new book, which was
released on the day the exhibition opened in November, modestly likens
Tsiaras to Andreas Vesalius.
The
first picture in the exhibit shows the endocrine system of a man
embracing a pregnant woman. Anatomical images have been overlaid with
translucent, hand drawn figures. Their sentimental pose-grasping
her swollen belly, and each other-typifies the schmaltz that
pervades the show. For many pictures, Tsiaras's artists have
chosen to embellish the imaging data like this, with superimposed
bodies in greeting card postures, and placid faces in soft
focus.
The images of
finer-scale structures tend to be more interesting, even as the
scheme of colouring and shadows begins to seem more arbitrary. A
testicle shown in full depth has a section cut away; its pinkish
insides make it look like a ripe fig. A vein and artery wriggle like
worms from a steep and mysterious black background. Sensory hair cells
in the inner ear resemble snow-covered trees growing from a
field of purple
shrubbery.
Nothing so striking
emerges from the gross anatomy. A depiction of the lungs and abdominal
muscles stands out not because of its intrinsic beauty, but because the
superimposed figure happens to be a taut-bodied woman
stretched in an alluring pose, her nipples as erect as pencil erasers.
Indeed, the introduction to Tsiaras's book points out that he
"has managed to reintroduce something else that all
great explorations of the human body must include-but these days
seldom do-an erotic
frisson."
If the show
didn't aspire to so much more than erotic frisson, it
wouldn't be such a disappointment. But when we hear that
"the images in this exhibit are as much of reality as they are
art," we're forced down a path that's not worth
following. Is this what the body looks like? What's real in these
pictures and what isn't? Since no specific information is given
on how the images were made, there's no way to answer these
questions.
On an intuitive level,
they just don't look real-they lack texture. The artistic
embellishments don't portray the "wetness" that is so
central a feature of biological systems. Without a sense of moisture,
the stilted figures and multi-coloured organs look
lifeless.
What a dramatic contrast
emerges in the museum's neighbouring exhibit on gastrointestinal
endoscopy. A repeating video clip of a polypectomy appears to be quite
real, as metal teeth twist and wrench a pimply growth from a glistening
membrane. The red hole they leave behind quickly wells up with
blood.
And across the museum, which
is an element of the US Armed Forces Institute of Pathology and which
contains more than 24 million specimens and artefacts, hairless yellow
babies float in pickle jars. Must we paint on rosy
cheeks?
Daniel Engber, freelance journalist, Washington DC, United States
Email: engber@lehrer.ucsf.edu
studentBMJ 2005;13:45-88 February ISSN 0966-6494