It's Going Tibia Alright - Esther

Medical professionals. Where would we be without them? Long gone, I should imagine or even more broken, sick & tired than we already are. Infections, limbs hanging off & covered in open wounds, we’d be like something out of a horror film. But there they are, ready to patch us up & send us back out into the world in a hopefully better state. They have often have a horrible time, are overworked & underpaid & they rarely know what they’re going to face from one day to the next. I’m glad someone can do it – I am not one of those people. When you’re teaching small to medium children, you do encounter some injuries & illnesses but you’re not really expected to fix them long term. It’s good if you’re not squeamish (I can deal with vomit, but not poop) & are able to breathe through your mouth. Over the years I’ve had bouts of First Aid training, but will not hesitate to call up the professionals if it’s much more than a graze. I know my limits.

Today we celebrate medical people through the Art World & no, they’re not all cutting people up.

A Physician Wearing a 17th-Century Plague Preventive Costume, c. 1910, Unknown artist

I will cheekily quote ArtUK to explain this one as there’s little else to say: 

The costume worn by physicians attending plague patients is described by Jean Jacques Manget in his 'Traité de la peste', Geneva, 1721: 

‘The gown was made of Morocco leather, with underneath a skirt, breeches and boots, all of leather and fitting into one another. The long beak-like nose piece was fitted with aromatic substances and the eyeholes were covered with glass.’

To think we could all have been prancing about like this for the past two years.

Country Doctor (Night Call), c. 1933-39, Horace Pippin (1888-1946)

I love this painting – it evokes the cold, the dark & the inconvenience whilst being beautifully composed & carefully selected colours. Pippin himself was a remarkable artist from the most drastic of circumstances. His grandparents were snatched into slavery & Pippin had not the opportunity to train as an artist. Self-taught, he’d been in an all-black regiment during WWI. His right shoulder was injured & he had to paint with his right hand being supported by his left. In this painting, the undercoat of grey we can see in the corner by his name was the original snow colour. How much more vivid & affecting it is after his change of mind.

The Doctor, exhibited 1891, Luke Fildes (1843-1927)

This is a genuinely poignant story. The artist was commissioned by Sir Henry Tate & was given free reign with the subject. Fildes took inspiration from a real event in his life – the sad death of his one year old son. Again, if I may quote – this time
Fildes’s son: 

The character and bearing of their doctor throughout the time of their anxiety, made a deep impression on my parents. Dr. Murray became a symbol of professional devotion which would day inspire the painting of “The Doctor.”

Sadly many of us have had cause to think of doctors in this way.

Dispensing of Medical Electricity, 1824, Edmund Bristow (1787-1876)

Either a dodgy doc or a wimpy patient? Or is Bristow telling us what he thinks of the process? 

& is the person peeping in the window above them horrified or having a laugh? 

The Physician’s Visit, 1658-1662, Jan Steen (c. 1626-1679)

This shows how ill women were probably treated (in all uses of the word) & seen by medical professionals of the day. Check out the warning symbols… dog, sniffy air about the doctor, urine sample, the woman being shown as weak, helpless & confined to her home. Diagnosis: probably pregnant.

(Disclaimer: I am not a doctor).

Doctor Pozzi at Home, 1881, John Singer Sargent (1856-1925)

Because doctors need down time too. Here the gynaecologist Samuel Jean de Pozzi is shown in extremely informal state, wearing a baggy red gown; perhaps this represents blood or a vocation, like clergy. I’ve included a photograph as it’s interesting to compare with the painting. 

Moxibustion Ai Tu, 1831, Li Tang李唐(c. 1050-1130)

My acupuncture doctor uses this on my but thankfully doesn’t burn me, haha. I have too tell her when it’s too hot. After I have the needles, she burns mugwort over the jab sites, holding it in tongs. This stimulates the blood flow & I like the sensation. & the smell. This scalded patient doesn’t seem to be so keen…

The Doctor Dismissing Death, 1785, Peter Simon (c. 1764-1813)

Sure. That’ll work.

PPE, 2021, Tim Okamura (b. 1968)

We’ve become familiar with these sorts of images, but Okamura’s style is particularly engaging: a wonderful combination of photorealism & looser background paint. From his Healthcare Heroes series, the photograph gives some scale & an interesting insight to his use of colour on his palette!

The Agnew Clinic (1889), Thomas Eakins (1892-1990)

You might remember this artist from last week’s blog where we looked at the hilariously named “Gross Clinic” paining. David Hayes Agnew was a surgeon & anatomist & this week’s painting was commissioned for his retirement. Eakins apparently worked all hours to complete this amazing work & completed it in three weeks. This portrayal of a partial mastectomy is a far cry from Steen’s mildly afflicted patient. Fascinatingly Mary V. Clymer, the nurse in the painting wrote diaries & was critical of the fact that it depicted the healthy breast uncovered. This depiction also went against Agnew’s own surgical practice. Clymer’s diaries also describe a wide range of medical treatments administered at the time including, ‘Carbolic acid as a disinfectant useful only "when it comes in contact with what you want to destroy."’

The Anatomy Lesson of Doctor Nicolaes Tulp, 1632, Rembrandt (1606-1669)

Clearly Rembrandt has done a remarkable thing in giving later artists permission to portray such vivid & possibly upsetting scenes. In some ways I’m saving the best for last & it is perhaps the most famous of all medical images in the World of Art. You can always tell when a painting has made it when endless parodies are created & Doctor Tulp is one of those paintings.