Tuesday 14 May 2013

Anatomie de l'homme

About two years ago I was studying for a practical in human anatomy. However, the material I had to read consisted of a really large illustrated pdf. Now, I generally appreciate when you don't have to buy some really expensive textbook for a course (which I often don't really look into again after having done the exam), but I don't particularly like to read from a computer screen, especially if it's something that takes several hours, and printing out this massive file didn't seem like such a good idea since my university had just started making us pay 5 cents per printed sheet. So I decided to visit my grandfather to see whether he had a good textbook; he used to be a medical doctor, and I assumed that our anatomy hadn't really changed in the last 60-something years.

Having arrived, my grandfather lent me a really nice copy of Henry Gray's anatomy of the human body, but he also had something far cooler; a set of 19th century French anatomic lithographs by Jules Germain Cloquet, with the fancy title:

"Anatomie de l'homme
ou
descriptions et figures lithographiées de toutes les parties du corps humain"

The front page

On the frontpage there is a typical 19th century French show-offy list of Doctor Cloquet's scientific activities:

"Docteur en médicine, chirugien en second de l'hôpital Saint-Louis, prospecteur te la faculté de médecine de Paris, professeur d'anatomie, de physiologie et de chirurgie; membre de l'académie royale de médecine, de la sociéte philomatique, membre correspondant de l'académie des sciences naturelles de Philadelphie, du lycée d'histoire naturelle et de l'académie de médicine de New-York"

That's some list, eh?

The lithographs are of superb quality, and with some really sweet 19th century touches; such as the sideburns of this fine gentleman with a split-open skull:

Love them sideburns


My grandfather talked me through the different drawings explaining nearly half of toutes les parties du corps humain. As a result, the practical went really well.

I'll post some more of the lithographs later on, but I want to close with a picture of a young man with a really nice coiffure, despite his neck being in a rather deplorable condition:

Friday 10 May 2013

Power / Prix Pictet

I recently visited the POWER/Prix Pictet exhibition in the small photography museum Huis Marseille in Amsterdam. The exhibition features some great photographs;

My personal favourite is a photograph by Daniel Beltrá of the BP oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico. The interplay of the deep blue colour of the ocean and the rainbow palette of the floating oil is beautiful. The water-oil interface creates some really interesting demarcated lines, which are accentuated by the curly lines of the slipstream of a ship.

Another nice part of the exhibition is a series of several photographs by Guy Tillim on the 2006 elections in Congo-Kinshasa. The photographs are of large outdoor rallies, but they retain an intimate air despite the hectic and crowded environment. Some of the crowds contain shots of faces that would do well as individual portraits, and all photographs give off a feeling of what down-town Kinshasa must be like – the heat and humidity leaving sweat droplets on your neck that mingle with the omnipresent dust, the dust that leaves a thin yellowish layer on your three-piece suit.

The winner of the 2012 Prix Pictet is Luc Delahaye, his best photograph exhibited is 'Les Pillards', which shows five pillagers, running away from something that is not in the picture (possibly the police?), in the aftermath of the 2010 earthquake in Haiti. It is the facial expression of the pillagers really makes this picture what it is, so it is at its best when seen in large (as a postcard it wasn't as good).

The USSR-born photographer Rena Effendi deserves some mention here for her still-lifes taken in the area surrounding Chernobyl. I particularly liked her photographs of foodstuffs in the rustic kitchens of the people that have moved back into the area. Mrs. Effendi has a good eye for colour compositions, and the result has a picturesque quality.

There are, however, there are some weak points. Firstly, the exhibition is really quite small; which is to be expected since the museum isn't particularly big, but at the time of my visit, part of the museum was being rebuilt (or refurbished, I'm not sure), so it was even smaller than normal. A part of the exhibition that wasn't too good consisted of a bunch of motion pictures in the garden house of the museum; their simultaneously played soundtrack created a cacophony, and the motion pictures themselves weren't interesting visually.

Despite this, there's some really nice things to be seen, and if you're a student (entry only costs 3 Euros) or are the proud owner of a Museumkaart or an 'I Amsterdam City card' (free entry), you really should visit the museum.

I can't wait for the next exhibition in Huis Marseille starting the 22nd of June, called 'Walker Evans / Decade by Decade'.