How to pronounce "illustrator"

As a lover of human anatomy,

I'm so excited that we're finally putting our bodies at the center of focus.

Through practices such as preventive medicine,

patient empowerment

and self-monitoring --

down to now obsessing over every single step we take in a day.

All of this works to promote

a healthy connection between ourselves and our bodies.

Despite all this focus on the healthy self,

general public knowledge of the anatomical self is lacking.

Many people don't know the location of their vital organs,

or even how they function.

And that's because human anatomy

is a difficult and time-intensive subject to learn.

How many of you here made it through anatomy?

Wow, good --

most of you are in medicine.

I, like you, spent countless hours memorizing hundreds of structures.

Something no student of anatomy could do without the help of visuals.

Because at the end of the day,

whether you remember every little structure or not,

these medical illustrations are what makes studying anatomy so intriguing.

In looking at them,

we're actually viewing a manual of our very selves.

But what happens when we're done studying?

These beautiful illustrations are then shut back

into the pages of a medical textbook,

or an app,

referenced only when needed.

And for the public,

medical illustrations may only be encountered passively

on the walls of a doctor's office.

From the beginnings of modern medicine,

medical illustration,

and therefore anatomy,

have existed primarily within the realm of medical education.

Yet there's something fascinating happening right now.

Artists are breaking anatomy out of the confines of the medical world

and are thrusting it into the public space.

For the past nine years, I have been cataloguing and sharing

this rise in anatomical art with the public --

all from my perspective as a medical illustrator.

But before I get into showing you how artists are reclaiming anatomy today,

it's important to understand how art influenced anatomy in the past.

Now, anatomy is by its very nature a visual science,

and the first anatomists to understand this lived during the Renaissance.

They relied on artists

to help advertise their discoveries to their peers in the public.

And this drive to not only teach but also to entertain

resulted in some of the strangest anatomical illustrations.

Anatomy was caught in a struggle between science, art and culture

that lasted for over 500 years.

Artists rendered dissected cadavers as alive,

posed in these humorous anatomical stripteases.

Imagine seeing that in your textbooks today.

They also showed them as very much dead --

unwillingly stripped of their skin.

Disembodied limbs were often posed in literal still lives.

And some illustrations even included pop culture references.

This is Clara,

a famous rhinoceros that was traveling Europe in the mid-1700s,

at a time when seeing a rhino was an exciting rarity.

Including her in this illustration was akin to celebrity sponsorship today.

The introduction of color

then brought a whole new depth and clarity to anatomy

that made it stunning.

By the early 20th century,

the perfect balance of science and art had finally been struck

with the emergence of medical illustrators.

They created a universal representation of anatomy --

something that was neither alive nor dead,

that was free from those influences of artistic culture.

And this focus on no-frills accuracy

was precisely for the benefit of medical education.

And this is what we get to study from today.

But why is it that medical illustration --

both past and present --

captures our imaginations?

Now, we are innately tuned into the beauty of the human body.

And medical illustration is still art.

Nothing can elicit an emotional response --

from joy to complete disgust --

more than the human body.

And today,

artists armed with that emotion,

are grasping anatomy from the medical world,

and are reinvigorating it through art in the most imaginative ways.

A perfect example of this is Spanish contemporary artist Fernando Vicente.

He takes 19th century anatomical illustrations of the male body

and envelops them in a female sensuality.

The women in his paintings taunt us to view beyond their surface anatomy,

thereby introducing a strong femininity

that was previously lacking in the history of anatomical representation.

Artistry can also be seen in the repair and recovery of the human body.

This is an X-ray of a woman who fractured and dislocated her ankle

in a roller-skating accident.

As a tribute to her trauma,

she commissioned Montreal-based architect Federico Carbajal

to construct a wire sculpture of her damaged lower leg.

Now, notice those bright red screws magnified in the sculpture.

These are the actual surgical screws used in reconstructing her ankle.

It's medical hardware that's been repurposed as art.

People often ask me how I choose the art that I showcase online

or feature in gallery shows.

And for me it's a balance between the technique

and a concept that pushes the boundaries of anatomy as a way to know thyself,

which is why the work of Michael Reedy struck me.

His serious figure drawings are often layered in elements of humor.

For instance, take a look at her face.

Notice those red marks.

Michael manifests the consuming insecurity of a skin condition

as these maniacal cartoon monsters

annoying and out of control in the background.

On the mirrored figure,

he renders the full anatomy

and covers it in glitter,

making it look like candy.

By doing this,

Michael downplays the common perception of anatomy

so closely tied to just disease and death.

Now, this next concept might not make much sense,

but human anatomy is no longer limited to humans.

When you were a child,

did you ever wish that your toys could come to life?

Well, Jason Freeny makes those dreams come true

with his magical toy dissections.

(Laughter)

One might think that this would bring a morbid edge

to one's innocent childhood characters,

but Jason says of his dissections,

"One thing I've never seen in a child's reaction to my work is fear."

It's always wonder,

amazement

and wanting to explore.

Fear of anatomy and guts is a learned reaction.

This anatomization also extends to politically and socially charged objects.

In Noah Scalin's "Anatomy of War,"

we see a gun dissected to reveal human organs.

But if you look closely,

you'll notice that it lacks a brain.

And if you keep looking, you might also notice

that Noah has so thoughtfully placed the rectum

at the business end of that gun barrel.

Now, this next artist I've been following for many years,

watching him excite the public about anatomy.

Danny Quirk is a young artist

who paints his subjects in the process of self-dissection.

He bends the rules of medical illustration

by inserting a very dramatic light and shadow.

And this creates a 3-D illusion

that lends itself very well to painting directly on the human skin.

Danny makes it look as if a person's skin has actually been removed.

And this effect --

also cool and tattoo-like --

easily transitions into a medical illustration.

Now Danny is currently traveling the world,

teaching anatomy to the public via his body paintings,

which is why it was so shocking to find out

that he was rejected from medical illustration programs.

But he's doing just fine.

Then there are artists

who are extracting anatomy from both the medical world and the art world

and are placing it directly on the streets.

London-based SHOK-1 paints giant X-rays of pop culture icons.

His X-rays show how culture can come to have an anatomy of its own,

and conversely how culture can become part of the anatomy of a person.

You come to admire his work

because reproducing X-rays by hand, let alone with spray paint,

is extremely difficult.

But then again this is a street artist,

who also happens to hold a degree in applied chemistry.

Nychos, an Austrian street artist,

takes the term "exploded view" to a whole new level,

splattering human and animal dissections on walls all over the world.

Influenced by comics and heavy metal,

Nychos inserts a very youthful and enticing energy into anatomy

that I just love.

Street artists believe that art belongs to the public.

And this street anatomy is so captivating

because it is the furthest removed from the medical world.

It forces you to look at it,

and confront your own perceptions about anatomy,

whether you find it beautiful,

gross,

morbid

or awe-inspiring, like I do.

That it elicits these responses at all

is due to our intimate and often changing relationship with it.

All of the artists that I showed you here today

referenced medical illustrations for their art.

But for them,

anatomy isn't just something to memorize,

but a base from which to understand the human body on a meaningful level;

to depict it in ways that we can relate,

whether it be through cartoons,

body painting

or street art.

Anatomical art has the power

to reach far beyond the pages of a medical textbook,

to ignite an excitement in the public,

and reinvigorate an enthusiasm in the medical world,

ultimately connecting our innermost selves with our bodies through art.

Thank you.

(Applause)