Materiality, Fragility, and Loss in the Medical Archive
Tactility and Fragility of Movable Artifacts
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Books and artifacts activated by touch are among the most fragile in the collection. These anatomical manikins are diminutive works, whose abdomens can be removed to reveal miniature organs, including two tiny fetuses in the case of the two female figures. The manikins are made of highly durable ivory for the single figure and bone for the reclining couple. However, their small scale and delicately-carved limbs require careful handling when dismantling them. The fragility of the objects and the lack of precision in representation of the interior organs suggest that the manikins were probably intended for private reflection.
With the rise of printing, interactive anatomical images with movable parts became increasingly available in early modern Europe in the form of fugitive sheets or as part of manuals. Users interested in learning about the human body and its ailments would lift paper flaps to reveal inner organs.
These nineteenth-century chromolithographs of a brain, an eyeball, and an outstretched hand are highly detailed anatomical representations. The organs were printed in vibrant ink on individual paper sheets, which were layered and folded. The anatomical prints were intended for medical study. They accompany the English-language edition of the Anatomie iconoclastique, a treatise by the French medical professor G. J. Witkowski, first published between 1873-77.
Repeated use over time, alongside the fragility of the medium paper, caused creases and tears. Conservator Karen Jutzi used small amounts of moisture to help flatten out the paper sheets and remove unwanted folds. Thin, lightweight Japanese tissue and wheat starch paste helped reattach the loose pieces, reinforce weak areas, and repair torn areas.
Since the Middle Ages, scientific texts harnessed the power of interactive images. Like the "flap" anatomies above, this astrolabe utilizes fairly simple technology for maximum visual effect and practicality. The artist painted the body of the astrolabe directly onto the page, which they overlaid with a cut-out vellum wheel marking the emplacements of the stars and the sun's path. By slowly and deliberately rotating the rings and pointers, sixteenth-century users could make astronomical measurements and chart the heavens. A central pin holds the components of the astrolabe together, including the volvelle, or wheeled chart, on the verso.
Creating animated artifacts and moving images required a high level of technical ability and artistic skill. Applying pressure and slightly shifting the pages of this small volume from 1815 reveals a neoclassical painting of an imaginary cityscape. When the book is closed, the buildings and miniature city dwellers disapear behind a layer of gilding.
The American bookbinder, Edith Diehl (1876-1953), described the techniques and methods of fore-edge painting in the following way: "To produce a painting under gold, the fore-edge of the book is first "cut in boards" with a plough, so that the edge will offer a perfectly smooth surface to work on. The leaves of the book are then "fanned out" and they are held in this position clapped tightly between wooden boards. The design is painted on the edge with a brush held at right angles [...] When the painting is finished and thoroughly dry, the clamps are removed, the book is put in a gilding press between gilding boards, and after burnishing the painted edge, it is gilded like any ordinary edge book." (Chapter 7 "Miscellanea," in Bookbinding: Its Background and Technique, vol. 1, pp. 170-71).
Photographs on this page by Terry Dagradi. Videos by Kelly Perry, with the assistance of Chris Zollo.