Ecorché, that fancy French word for human filet. Literally, the word means flayed, or stands as the noun for a flayed person, an écorché. Before the dawn of CD-ROMs, the mode of learning anatomy often involved the écorché, an illustration of the human body sans skin, organs, muscles, or whatever else got in the way of the internal object of study.
In "The Quick and the Dead," originally the catalogue to an exhibit that recently toured England, the authors compile a grotesquely fascinating collage of anatomical subjects. As seen through the work of famous artists (da Vinci, Max Ernst, that sick genius Albrecht Dòrer, Hogarth), lesser-known allegorists and medical illustrators, and that prolific, timeless artist, "Anon," the quest to learn about the human body produced a trove of images of Biblical torment, macabre disembodied organs and limbs, grimacing decapitated heads and chilly skeletons. Perhaps for their lasting and at times nauseating nature, or perhaps because they were often consigned to medical textbooks, many of these images haven't gotten the same play as the Mona Lisa, Impressionism or Piss Christ. This is art borne out of artists' pursuit of knowledge (with, no doubt, dashes of moderate to severe mental disorders thrown in) that now is both compelling and disturbing.
And, oh, the exquisite écorchés! These skinned, salmon-pink and B&W poseurs and body parts repose in all manner of slouching repose, like some David Lynch series of Calvin Klein waif-model ads. There's Cowper's "Resting écorché in the landscape," Philips Galle's "Walking écorché, facing to the right, with detached arm," even the slim, muscular "Ecorchés of a Male Leg," attributed to Michelangelo.
As engrossing as the skinless "Quick" are the dead, and even the Big D himself. Dòrer's skeletal "Death Riding" (circa 1505) has all the accouterments: bony, emaciated steed, pointy crown and steely sickle. In Veneziano's "Allegory of Death and Fame" (1518), paper-thin nudes and hooded scholars gather around a central winged skeleton, paging through a book with a toothy grin. Petherbridge and Jordanova's breezy, informative text scans five centuries of anatomical art. But even without the specialized knowledge they provide, Dòrer's work - and "The Quick and the Dead" - get under your skin.
(Sam Jemielity)
- The Quick and the Dead: Artists and Anatomy
copyright 1998 New City Communications, Inc.