A Curious Art: The Evelyn Tables

A Curious Art: The Evelyn Tables

A Curious Art:
The Evelyn Tables

Four wooden boards,
bodies splayed out.
Engrained into knots;
Italian pine.

Spinal cord draped,
melted branches.
Soft varnished hard;
invisible ink.

Arteries glow red,
injected pigment.
Thickly voluptuous;
pulses bound.

Sympathetic starburst,
nervous system.
Innervate our organs;
liver and lung.

Veins hang limply,
cut the strings.
Movement arrested;
no return.

Evelyn’s tables,
Hunterian Museum.
Seeing wooden eyes;
ancient dead.

Words Copyright Eliot North 2014

With thanks for the inspiration to The Hunterian Museum, Royal College of surgeons.  Check out their twitter feed: @HunterianLondon

http://www.rcseng.ac.uk/museums/hunterian

Check out this fab video made by The Royal College of Physicians with information about anatomical tables.

The Story Behind ‘Curious Anatomys’

I love the Hunterian Museum (at The Royal College of Surgeons: Holborn, London) and the good news is it’s open to the public. On both of my visits I haven’t been able to move past the Evelyn Tables at the entrance to the museum. Something about their solid but other-wordly presence arrests me every time I walk through the door of the museum. I think this might be because they are one of the very few displays made of wood. Glowing,  eerie wood with human remains artfully displayed, almost melting into the grains and knots.

So that’s where this poem came from. I find the Evelyn Tables arresting in a way that is difficult to put my finger on, so the poem is an exploration of that as well as an attempt to put into words what they look and feel like to view them. The above poem is part of my collaboration with artist Rachael Allen. We secured a collaboration bursary from a-n: ‘Lessons in Anatomy: Dissecting medicine and health through visual and literary arts collaboration.’ For more information please click on this link:

http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/4000721

 

 

 

 

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The Gordon Museum of Pathology

Gordon's Museum of Pathology

Dare Quam Accipere*
The Gordon Museum of Pathology

Walk up to the black door
in Guy’s Hospital, London.
Enter by appointment
read the Latin written there.

Inside lies a chamber,
to which few are invited.
Three floors of human specimens
span four hundred years.

A museum hung and quartered,
opposing segments yellow, blue.
White painted balconies
repeat the hospital crest.

Explore each section slowly,
tread soft on spiral stair.
Lean against wooden rests,
gaze on rows of jars.

Note how the unborn lie
right next to the dead.
Body parts coded, organised,
chaotic disease made good.

*Better to give than receive

Copyright Eliot North 2014

I wrote this poem after being lucky enough to go to The Gordon’s Museum of Pathology at Guy’s Hospital in London whilst on a weekend of collaboration with the artist Rachael Allen.
We have been given a collaboration bursary by a-n (artists’s network) to work on a Project called ‘Lessons in Anatomy: Dissecting Medicine and Health Through Visual and Literary Arts collaboration.’
The weekend in London visiting the Royal Colleges of Medicine and Surgery, The Gordon’s Museum of Pathology, Wellcome Trust and British Library was the start point for us and it was fabulous.

This poem is one tiny start to what I imagine will be many months ahead of creative dialogue with Rachael that I hope to post about on here.

The Gordon’s Museum of Pathology you can read about by clicking this link. http://www.kcl.ac.uk/gordon/index.aspx. (The image is copied from their website)

Also Rachael has written about our collaboration on the a-n blog here: http://www.a-n.co.uk/artists_talking/projects/single/4000721

Enjoy! xxx

He Blew Me a Kiss

Parkinson's image

 

He Blew Me a Kiss

She liked Frank, they connected

despite his expressionless face. Behind the wound-up limbs and tremor

a gentle man shone out from the mask.

 

When she visited they would share a cuppa.

Chat about this and that. Do the ‘medication shuffle’;

a two-step dance they both knew well.

 

She’d heard about stem cell research.

How they’d taken swabs from patients’ skin. Growing stem cells

from skin cells in dishes, right there in the lab up the road.

 

These stem cells would then become brain cells.

Models of Parkinson’s just like Frank’s. For testing newer and better

medications and perhaps one day even a cure.

 

The last time she saw Frank it was snowing

but he insisted on accompanying her out. Standing by the gate like a sentinel

he’d wave her off that one last time.

 

Later she’d think of stem cells like kisses

blown on the winter air. A hand lifted slowly towards a frozen face.

The moment captured in her rear-view mirror.

 

 

I won the EuroStemCell creative non-fiction poetry competition which I’m really chuffed about.

http://www.eurostemcell.org/story/writing-competition-winners-announced

Here’s the link to their site, come along to the event on 23rd October In Edinburgh if you can, tickets going on sale soon I think.

Spectacular Pathologies

Spectacular Pathologies at Barts Pathology Museum

Check out the amazing Bart’s Pathology Museum in London that’s being opened to the public for an illustrative lecture and medical sculpture demonstration for The Congress for Curious People in London 29th August – 8th September.

http://curiouscongress.wordpress.com/programme/friday-30th-august/