A Body of Evidence: An Art Historical perspective on Eighteenth and ...

A <strong>Body</strong> <strong>of</strong> <strong>Evidence</strong>: <strong>An</strong> <strong>Art</strong> <strong>Historical</strong> <strong>perspective</strong> on Eighteenth and
Nineteenth century Wax <strong>An</strong>atomical Models.
A Thesis presented
by
Victoria Hobday
to
The School <strong>of</strong> <strong>Art</strong> History, Cinema, Classics, and Archaeology
In partial fulfilment <strong>of</strong> the requirements
for the degree <strong>of</strong>
Masters <strong>of</strong> Curatorship
in the field <strong>of</strong>
<strong>Art</strong> History
in the
School <strong>of</strong> <strong>Art</strong> History, Cinema, Classics, and Archaeology
The University <strong>of</strong> Melbourne
Supervisor : Associate Pr<strong>of</strong>essor David R. Marshall
May 2006.

Abstract.
<strong>Art</strong>ists and anatomists cooperated from the sixteenth century through to the nineteenth
century to produce books and later models which illustrated the new encounter with
human anatomy. The style <strong>of</strong> many <strong>of</strong> the illustrations reflected the art practices <strong>of</strong> the
period in which they were produced. Wax anatomical models adopted some <strong>of</strong> the same
artistic conventions as illustration to familiarise the eighteenth century audience with
anatomy. These models, which were initially closely linked to the practice <strong>of</strong> dissection
were adapted for different audiences before being overtaken by new technology at the
end <strong>of</strong> the nineteenth century. This thesis uses as examples some <strong>of</strong> the models in the
Harry Brookes Allen Museum in the medical department <strong>of</strong> the University <strong>of</strong> Melbourne
to illustrate the historical progression <strong>of</strong> wax anatomical models.

1. Introduction.
2. The Emergence <strong>of</strong> <strong>An</strong>atomy.
3. The Model Audience.
4. New Directions: the nineteenth century.
5. Conclusion.

Introduction
The Harry Brookes Allen Museum, the museum <strong>of</strong> anatomy at the University <strong>of</strong>
Melbourne, is the embodiment <strong>of</strong> scientific detachment. The floor is highly
polished; the doors and display cabinets are without any ornament. These
elements underscore the didactic purpose <strong>of</strong> this museum. Human body parts
preserved in alcohol, or ‘wet models’ 1 are the most prominent and featured
exhibits, but there are also eight wax anatomical models. These anatomical
models are <strong>of</strong> a different epoch from the wet models that date to the 1950s. The
models are delicately executed in tinted wax; either supported by turned wooden
pedestals or laid out on carefully arranged treated cloth. 2 Many demonstrate the
internal workings <strong>of</strong> specific areas <strong>of</strong> the human body such as the hand or ear
canal. One particularly arresting model is <strong>of</strong> a dissected infant showing the
brightly coloured abdominal cavity and organs (Fig.1). The delicacy and the
external finish <strong>of</strong> these models is quite different to the approach taken in
anatomical drawings and models from more recent periods that are also in the
collection. The juxtaposition <strong>of</strong> these models, to unadorned scientific objects
within an anatomy museum, illustrates the progressive establishment <strong>of</strong>
medicine as a discipline.
1 These specimens were collected during the 1950’s and consist <strong>of</strong> various body parts suspended in a fixing
solution within sealed perspex boxes.
2 See attached appendix for detailed description <strong>of</strong> each model.

The anatomical models were made by the French company ‘Tramond’ in Paris in
the late nineteenth century, the precise date is unknown. The models were most
likely produced as teaching models for the University <strong>of</strong> Paris as the company’s
premises were in the Rue de l’École de Médecine close to the university in Paris. 3
These models follow a form that was established nearly one hundred years
earlier in eighteenth-century Italy, before the formalisation <strong>of</strong> surgical medicine. 4
This thesis focuses on the conventions <strong>of</strong> style that were employed in the
production <strong>of</strong> these models, and on the influences that shaped these conventions.
Of particular interest is the interplay between the science <strong>of</strong> anatomy and the
artistic conventions <strong>of</strong> representing the human form sculpturally. Supposedly
objective scientific illustrations, including such three-dimensional models as
these, reflect the stylistic conventions <strong>of</strong> the period in which they were produced.
To be meaningful such illustrations had to operate within a framework <strong>of</strong>
ideological assumptions about the social and natural worlds. <strong>An</strong>atomical models
and illustrations depend for their effect upon a set <strong>of</strong> aesthetic conventions,
embedded in the languages <strong>of</strong> representation upon which they draw, which
govern what is considered to be a convincing image.
3 Although these models are marked with the company name there is no information available either
through the Bibliotheque Nationale or through specialists in this period <strong>of</strong> Medical History in France such
as Pr<strong>of</strong>essor George Weisz <strong>of</strong> McGill University in Quebec.
4 Roberts, 1996, p. 77.

Wax anatomical models hitherto have been studied to illustrate the history <strong>of</strong>
medicine understood to be the advancement <strong>of</strong> surgical knowledge 5 . I propose
instead to study these models in terms <strong>of</strong> the historic and artistic influences on
them, and in terms <strong>of</strong> the interaction between the disciplines <strong>of</strong> science and art.
By following the changing nature <strong>of</strong> such models between the time that wax was
first chosen as a medium for the anatomical representations in the early
seventeenth century, and the mid-nineteenth century when a pr<strong>of</strong>ound aesthetic
divergence took place between scientific and visual arts, we can see a widening
division between what was considered ‘art ‘and the modern discourse <strong>of</strong>
‘science’.
There is no doubt that the study <strong>of</strong> anatomy since the Renaissance had a
pr<strong>of</strong>ound effect upon the representation <strong>of</strong> the body in art. One has only to gaze
upon the monumental work Raft <strong>of</strong> the Medusa (1819)(Fig. 2) by Théodore
Géricault to realise the extent to which the study <strong>of</strong> anatomy had influenced the
artists <strong>of</strong> the early nineteenth century. Conversely, artists had a great influence
on the representation <strong>of</strong> the body for scientific purposes. The contextualisation <strong>of</strong>
the body in order to study the function <strong>of</strong> its parts became the province <strong>of</strong> artists
and served to familiarise the public with the internal workings <strong>of</strong> the human
body. Two wax sculptures by Ercole Lelli (Fig. 3), created for the newly
refurbished anatomy theatre at the University <strong>of</strong> Bologna in 1742, which
5 For this form <strong>of</strong> medical background refer to M. Lemire 1992.

epresent Adam standing with his skin removed to reveal the muscles, serve to
remind us <strong>of</strong> the common interest <strong>of</strong> anatomists and artists in representing the
inner structure <strong>of</strong> the human body.
In examining the history and relationship between wax anatomical models and
the cultural background to their production it is possible to gain insight into the
changes that occurred in both their appearance and use. The first chapter is
concerned with the discourse <strong>of</strong> anatomy and dissection and how these led to a
need for three-dimensional representations <strong>of</strong> human anatomy in the form <strong>of</strong>
wax anatomical models. The second chapter focuses on the changes to the
models form resulting from the differing needs <strong>of</strong> the audiences for whom the
models were made. The third chapter looks more specifically at the demise <strong>of</strong> the
wax anatomical model in the nineteenth century.

Chapter One – The Emergence <strong>of</strong> <strong>An</strong>atomy.
Prior to the Renaissance the most widely recognised text on anatomy was the
work <strong>of</strong> Claudius Galen (c. 130- 200 AD) entitled On the use <strong>of</strong> the parts <strong>of</strong> the
human body, which investigated human anatomy through studies carried out on
animals. 6 It is not known whether Galen’s text, which was transcribed from the
original Greek first into Syriac and Arabic, and in the Renaissance into Latin, was
originally illustrated. 7 Thirteenth-century anatomical illustration in European
manuscripts were typically limited to representational diagrams that showed the
body as a froglike form with arms and legs splayed, as can be seen in the
example <strong>of</strong> medieval anatomical illustration in Fig. 4. Such illustration merely
located the position <strong>of</strong> the organs rather than explaining their functions.
During the Renaissance, anatomy was studied in a number <strong>of</strong> disciplines. In the
fifteenth century artists and scholars explored the theories <strong>of</strong> Greek
philosophers such as Empedocles and Plato, who had argued that the human
body was a microcosm, or lesser world, which replicated the macrocosm <strong>of</strong> the
universe. 8 Scholars studied the nature <strong>of</strong> the world to find patterns that were
repeated in science, music, architecture and art. 9 . The underlying principles <strong>of</strong>
6 Galen was a Greek physician from Pergamon who practiced medicine and wrote about anatomy. He later
moved via Alexandria to Rome where he became the physician for the Emperors Marcus Aurelius and
Commodus. Under Roman rule dissection <strong>of</strong> cadavers was forbidden therefore many <strong>of</strong> his observations
were based on animals close to humans such as Barbary apes. Cunningham, 1997, p. 27.
7 Choulant, 1945, p. 21a.
8 For a detailed account <strong>of</strong> the history <strong>of</strong> these ideas see Barkan, 1975, pp. 8-60.
9 Kemp, 1981, p. 104.

Vitruvius’ architectural treatise De Architectura consistently related back to the
human body as the template for architectural proportion. In his illustration
Proportional Study <strong>of</strong> a Man in the Manner <strong>of</strong> Vitruvius (Fig. 5) Leonardo da Vinci
analysed the proportion <strong>of</strong> the body and reinterpreted these proportions, not
only as architectural and mathematical patterns but also according to the
relationship <strong>of</strong> the body to the larger world. In medieval architecture this
relationship had taken the form <strong>of</strong> symbolic references, so that, for example, the
cruciform plan <strong>of</strong> a church was related to the form <strong>of</strong> the Latin cross. Renaissance
humanists, by contrast, looked at the human body to find more literal pro<strong>of</strong> <strong>of</strong> an
association between man and the cosmos. 10 The investigation <strong>of</strong> the mechanics <strong>of</strong>
the human body was done within the context <strong>of</strong> this philosophical position so
that it was widely held that to understand the body was to gain an
understanding <strong>of</strong> the universe.
<strong>An</strong>atomists and artists in the Renaissance were therefore interested in finding
similarities to the larger world in the structure <strong>of</strong> the body and the function <strong>of</strong>
the parts <strong>of</strong> the human body. 11 Such concerns led to a demand for the
representation <strong>of</strong> anatomy in a manner that clearly explained the internal
workings <strong>of</strong> the body: the manner <strong>of</strong> representation needed to reflect the form <strong>of</strong>
investigation. Conventions were therefore established by the means <strong>of</strong> which the
10 Barkan, 1975, p. 12.
11 Hildebrand, 2004, p. 297.

artist and the anatomist cooperated in developing techniques for the
representation <strong>of</strong> the body in the context <strong>of</strong> the wider world.
<strong>An</strong>tonio Pollaiuolo (c. 1432–98) produced his only known engraving, the signed
Battle <strong>of</strong> the Ten Nudes (Fig. 6) at the beginning <strong>of</strong> the 1470s. 12 Pollaiuolo was one
<strong>of</strong> the earliest artists to dissect cadavers, and this work was influential as it
provided the first printed image that gave a reasonably accurate representation
<strong>of</strong> the muscles <strong>of</strong> the human body. 13 The figures are crammed onto one sheet in a
number <strong>of</strong> fighting poses, seen from both the front and back, which demonstrate
the muscles in action. Although Pollaiuolo apparently was familiar with the
position <strong>of</strong> the muscles his understanding <strong>of</strong> the muscles in motion was poor. It
is thought by Mayor that Pollaiuolo may have used wax models to record the
dissected muscles, bending the wax into the pose that he then engraved. 14 It is
possible, therefore, that although Pollaiuolo had removed the skin <strong>of</strong> the
cadavers he was unable to decipher the inner workings <strong>of</strong> the body beneath.
Giorgio Vasari, the art historian and contemporary <strong>of</strong> Michelangelo, noted that
Leonardo da Vinci was one <strong>of</strong> the greatest masters <strong>of</strong> anatomical illustration.
Leonardo worked closely with Marc’<strong>An</strong>tonio della Torre, Pr<strong>of</strong>essor <strong>of</strong> <strong>An</strong>atomy
at Padua and Pavia Universities, and that Leonardo ‘sketched cadavers he had
12 Ettlinger, 1978, p. 31.
13 Mayor, 1964, p. 204.
14 Mayor, 1964, p. 207.

dissected with his own hand, depicting them with the greatest care.’ 15 Vasari’s
observation shows that Leonardo learnt the practice <strong>of</strong> dissecting from his
academic colleagues in Padua and Pavia and that, unlike Pollaiuolo, he was
conversant with an established method <strong>of</strong> dissection employed by anatomists.
Leonardo’s pen and ink drawing Studies <strong>of</strong> the anatomy <strong>of</strong> the shoulder and the foot
(Fig. 7) employs visual conventions which indicate through their close
observation that they were created during the process <strong>of</strong> dissection. These
conventions involved the progressive revealing <strong>of</strong> the layers <strong>of</strong> tendons and
muscles, the relationship between the mechanics <strong>of</strong> joints and tendons and the
focus upon specific areas with the layer <strong>of</strong> skin peeled back to reveal the layers
below. Some <strong>of</strong> the techniques that Leonardo used here are also found in
fifteenth-century architecture and engineering illustrations. 16 These included
rotating the object being drawn to reveal different views, transparency, which
allowed obscured parts to be located within diagrammatic outlines <strong>of</strong> the
exterior, and the use <strong>of</strong> the traverse section. The traverse section is the
progressive cross-sectional view that allows for an understanding <strong>of</strong> the interior
<strong>of</strong> the body in relation to its exterior. Leonardo’s partnership with della Torre
therefore informed his understanding <strong>of</strong> the human body. At the same time
Leonardo’s experience in the fields <strong>of</strong> architecture and engineering contributed
to the development <strong>of</strong> innovative conventions for anatomical illustration.
15 Vasari, 1991, p. 292.
16 Cazort, 1996, p. 24.

Leonardo explored anatomy as a means <strong>of</strong> understanding the living organism.
He had planned to publish his anatomical works in 120 volumes, called Quaderni
d’<strong>An</strong>otomia, in conjunction with della Torre, but the latter’s untimely death ended
the project. 17 Instead Leonardo’s writings and illustrations were circulated in
manuscript form amongst the artistic community in Italy. The cooperation
between the two fields <strong>of</strong> anatomy and art promoted both the accurate
representation <strong>of</strong> the body in art as much as innovation in the method <strong>of</strong> creating
a visual record <strong>of</strong> the inner workings <strong>of</strong> the body for science.
In 1543 Copernicus published his controversial treatise De Revolutionibus Orbium
Coelestium which dealt with the rotation <strong>of</strong> the planets around the sun. 18 In the
same year the Flemish anatomist <strong>An</strong>dreas Vesalius published De Humani Corporis
Fabrica, which was to revolutionise the science <strong>of</strong> anatomy and standardise
anatomical representation <strong>of</strong> the human body for the following two centuries. 19
Both Copernicus and Vesalius challenged established theories, causing the
macrocosmic and microcosmic view <strong>of</strong> the world to be reconsidered.
Vesalius (1514 –1564) established a method for the dissection <strong>of</strong> the human body
that impacted upon both anatomical drawings and later anatomical models. As a
lecturer in surgery at Padua University, he built upon Galen’s methods <strong>of</strong>
17 Todd, 1983, p. 11.
18 Debus, 1978, p. 27.
19 Hansen and Porter, 1999, p. 32.

dissection, which were based largely upon observation <strong>of</strong> the anatomy <strong>of</strong>
animals, and adapted them to the practice <strong>of</strong> human dissection that he, unlike
other academics <strong>of</strong> his time, performed himself. The division <strong>of</strong> the body into the
skeletal system, the muscular system, and the venous and nervous systems, as
well as his definition <strong>of</strong> organs is still followed in anatomy today. 20 For this
reason Vesalius became known as ‘the father <strong>of</strong> anatomy’ and anatomical study
is today <strong>of</strong>ten classified as pre-Vesalian or post-Vesalian. 21
The illustrations in Vesalius’De Humani Corporis Fabrica are by Jan Stephen van
Calcar (c. 1499-1546), a student <strong>of</strong> Titian. 22 Van Calcar’s dissected figures are
placed amongst landscape settings. The background landscape <strong>of</strong> the fourteen
plates that comprise the Muscle Tabulae consist <strong>of</strong> two continuous panoramas,
one for the frontal views and another for the plates illustrating the muscles <strong>of</strong> the
back. 23 The First Muscle Tabula <strong>of</strong> the Fabrica (Fig. 8) stands in the foreground
with the landscape <strong>of</strong> church spires, a ruined Roman aqueduct and rolling hills
in the distant background. Although these plates do not use a narrative incident
to motivate the figures, in the way that Pollaiuolo employed a battle in his The
Battle <strong>of</strong> the Ten Nudes engraving, there is a sense <strong>of</strong> implied narrative in the
figures. The face <strong>of</strong> the figure in the First Muscle Tabula is turned upwards
20 Cazort, 1996, p. 18.
21 Choulant, 1962, p. 169.
22 None <strong>of</strong> the drawings that are included in Vesalius’ treatise were signed by the artist. Roberts and
Tomlinson, 1992, p. 138.
23 Roberts and Tomlinson, 1992, p. 139.

towards heaven with an expression <strong>of</strong> despair, while his left hand points
downwards as if to indicate the earth from which he has been disinterred. There
is a tacit denial <strong>of</strong> the fact that this flayed figure is dead, effected by the animated
way in which he is portrayed. In contrast to Leonardo’s sketches there is no text
around the body. The only reference to learning within the plate is the title above
the figure and the use <strong>of</strong> letters written on muscles <strong>of</strong> the body. The placing <strong>of</strong>
figures within a landscape demonstrates a new approach to anatomy that still,
however, utilises the artistic world <strong>of</strong> sculpture and painting to contextualise the
figure.
Although the text <strong>of</strong> De Humani Corporis Fabrica reconsiders Galen’s
interpretation <strong>of</strong> the body, its illustrations remain influenced by the figures <strong>of</strong>
classical sculpture. This may be seen in the use <strong>of</strong> the Belvedere Torso (Fig. 9), a
much admired and recognised sculpture during the sixteenth century, which is
eviscerated in The viscera <strong>of</strong> the body from Vesalius’ Fabrica to display the internal
organs (Fig 10). The disjunction between the search for new meaning within the
text and the reference to antique prototypes in the illustrations demonstrates
how references to art and antiquity cushioned the harshness <strong>of</strong> the new direction
that anatomy was taking in the sixteenth century.
The dissemination <strong>of</strong> Vesalius’ printed text to a wider audience made it a
practical guide for the dissection <strong>of</strong> cadavers. While the size and cost <strong>of</strong> such a

ook made it prohibitive to the ordinary anatomy student, 24 there was a market
in the universities where the practice <strong>of</strong> dissection was becoming a popular
entertainment, as well as being used to instruct the surgeons and anatomists.
The University <strong>of</strong> Padua created the first formal dissecting theatre in 1594 and
here dignitaries, students and the public could observe the dissection <strong>of</strong>
cadavers. 25 The term ‘theatre’ served to identify the practice <strong>of</strong> dissection as
being as much a performance as a means <strong>of</strong> instruction. The admittance <strong>of</strong> the
general public made dissection a form <strong>of</strong> ghastly entertainment <strong>of</strong>ten linked with
the season <strong>of</strong> Carnivale. 26 Other universities quickly followed suit creating
dissecting theatres in the major cities <strong>of</strong> Italy, notably Bologna, Rome and
Florence as well as cities in northern Europe such as Leiden and Amsterdam. 27
As human dissection gained popularity there was a growing demand for the
anatomists to demonstrate the internal workings <strong>of</strong> the human body in seasons
other than winter, which was preferred for dissections because the bodies
decayed less quickly in cold weather. 28 This demand was the initial motivation
for creating anatomical models, since these could be used in the warmer months.
These models were first made <strong>of</strong> wood or ivory, and then <strong>of</strong> wax. The early wax
24 Roberts and Tomlinson, 1992, p. 209.
25 Cazort, 1996, p. 21.
26 Carlino, 1994, p. 81.
27 Carlino, 1994, pp. 93-96.
28 Kemp and Wallace, 2000, p. 23.

models were closely modelled on actual dissections and demonstrated anatomy
without the problems <strong>of</strong> decomposition.
Decay was <strong>of</strong> particular concern as <strong>of</strong>ten the universities were only permitted to
use a limited number <strong>of</strong> bodies each year for dissection. 29 The progressive
relaxation <strong>of</strong> laws governing dissection meant that it was no longer illegal to
perform dissections in many countries, but it was still closely regulated because
<strong>of</strong> the continuing fear that corpses would be stolen from graveyards for this
purpose. 30 Added to this was the difficulty involved in both clearly viewing the
parts <strong>of</strong> the body and preserving them over a number <strong>of</strong> dissections. A solution
to this was to create realistic but bloodless models.
Gaetano Zumbo
In the late seventeenth century, the Syracusan artist Abate Gaetano Giulio
Zumbo (1656–1701) was among the first artists to create anatomical models from
coloured wax. 31 A younger son, Zumbo at first entered the priesthood and then
later set about teaching himself sculpture. He was particularly influenced by
29 Sawday, 1995, p. 35.
30 The activities <strong>of</strong> the ‘Resurrectionists’, or grave robbers, were <strong>of</strong> particular concern throughout the
history <strong>of</strong> dissection in Europe. This came to note particularly in Britain with the case <strong>of</strong> Burke and Hare
who were found to have murdered sixteen people and then robbed their graves to supply anatomists in the
early nineteenth century. Thereafter body snatching was called ‘burking’ in Britain. Burmeister, 2000,
p. 26.
31 Lightbown, 1964, 486. Information relating to the life <strong>of</strong> Gaetano Giulio Zumbo is extensively drawn
from R.W. Lightbown’s illuminating articles in The Burlington Magazine. There is a lack <strong>of</strong> other
information regarding this artist; as such most other references have in turn used this article as their source.

paintings and antiquities that he saw in Rome. 32 It is believed that he trained in
anatomy at Bologna University in the late seventeenth century before he moved
to Florence where he worked for Grand Duke Cosimo III <strong>of</strong> Tuscany and his
eldest son Gran Principe Ferdinando. 33 He developed a line in wax dioramas
throughout his career for these and other aristocratic patrons <strong>of</strong> Tuscany. His
skill in recreating the human body in wax led to a growing reputation. 34 His
works for the Florentine court were based on religious and moral iconography
and had such evocative titles as The Triumph <strong>of</strong> Time, The Corruption <strong>of</strong> the <strong>Body</strong>,
and The Plague (Fig. 11). These sculptures display Zumbo’s ability to render the
human body in extraordinary detail. The underlying message concerning the
wrath <strong>of</strong> God found in such works as The Plague, which Zumbo reinterpreted
from a famous painting <strong>of</strong> the period, Poussin’s The Plague <strong>of</strong> the Ashdod (Fig. 12),
would have been familiar to a seventeenth century audience. 35 As such, Zumbo’s
portrayal <strong>of</strong> corpses in wax was already focussed on the contemplation <strong>of</strong>
mortality.
After lecturing to over two thousand people during a demonstration <strong>of</strong> anatomy
on the corpses <strong>of</strong> a woman and child who had both died in childbirth, Guillaume
Desnoues was frustrated to find that the figures decomposed before further
32 Burmeister, 2000, p. 29.
33 Lightbown, 1964, p. 489.
34 Lightbown, 1964, p. 563.
35 Lightbown, 1964, p. 493.

demonstrations were possible. 36 For Desnoues the decaying corpse was not an
object <strong>of</strong> contemplation on the frailty <strong>of</strong> life, but rather a practical limitation on
scientific anatomy. He wanted to distance the audience from the horror <strong>of</strong> seeing
a corpse, in order that it might concentrate on the workings <strong>of</strong> the human body
as the product <strong>of</strong> the working Creator. He wrote:
What greater success can one wish for in the arts and sciences
than to find the secret <strong>of</strong> imitating the works <strong>of</strong> the Creator by
demonstrating the anatomy <strong>of</strong> the human body in relief
without exciting the feeling <strong>of</strong> horror men usually have on
seeing corpses. 37
Zumbo must have seemed a natural choice to Desnoues, who wanted to
overcome the decay problems associated with dissection by having the corpses
that he had dissected carefully copied in coloured wax. Desnoues had previously
attempted injecting coloured wax into the veins and arteries <strong>of</strong> prepared body
parts, but with limited success. Zumbo and Desnoues established a partnership
in Genoa both for knowledge and for pr<strong>of</strong>it. As public interest in dissection grew,
Desnoues and Zumbo realised that there were aristocratic patrons who wanted
36 Burmeister, 2000, p. 31.
37 Lettres de G.Desnoues, Pr<strong>of</strong>esseur d’<strong>An</strong>atomie, & de Chirurgie, De l’Academie de Bologne; et de Mr
Guglielmini, Pr<strong>of</strong>esseur de Médecine & Mathematiques a Padoue, Rome. 1706 as quoted in Lightbown,
1964, p. 565.

anatomical models for their private collections and museums. 38 This partnership
was one that clearly required the input <strong>of</strong> both scientist and artist, both bringing
to their creation skills and knowledge from their respective fields. As chief
surgeon <strong>of</strong> the hospital in Genoa and Pr<strong>of</strong>essor <strong>of</strong> <strong>An</strong>atomy and Surgery to the
Republic, Desnoues would have followed an established format in the dissection
<strong>of</strong> cadavers along the lines <strong>of</strong> the Vesalian division <strong>of</strong> the body. 39 Similarly, the
manner in which Zumbo created his models would have been informed by his
training and artistic skills with wax, since the making <strong>of</strong> moulds and careful
tinting <strong>of</strong> the layers <strong>of</strong> wax were skills that Zumbo had perfected in the process
<strong>of</strong> creating his dioramas. 40 This partnership was one that exemplified the
necessary contribution <strong>of</strong> both disciplines and led to similar partnerships
throughout the subsequent history <strong>of</strong> wax anatomical models.
The alliance between Zumbo and Desnoues would, however, founder in a
quarrel over the authorship <strong>of</strong> the models. 41 Desnoues laid claim to the initial
idea and to the decision to portray the figures as ‘recently dead’, and condemned
an early work that Zumbo created as being morbid and unusable. Zumbo on the
38 Lightbown, 1964, p. 563.
39 Lightbown describes the manner in which Desnoues dissected and prepared his bodies for demonstration
every week, <strong>of</strong>ten highlighting veins and arteries by injecting them with coloured wax. Lightbown, 1964, p.
565.
40 Zumbo most likely adapted his methods <strong>of</strong> using a combination <strong>of</strong> clay figures and real parts moulded
and then cast. It is suggested that he painted the flesh colour into the mould and then poured the molten
wax into the mould when the pigment was still wet. This allowed the surface <strong>of</strong> the wax to absorb the
colour and maintain a depth <strong>of</strong> hue that was more translucent and realistic than if it had been overlaid with
pigment. Harvard, 1936, p. 320.
41 Harvard, 1936, p. 318.

other hand wanted the credit <strong>of</strong> creating the method for portraying the figures in
coloured wax. Desnoues frustration with Zumbo taking credit and his jealousy <strong>of</strong>
Zumbo’s repute is well documented through his letters. 42 Zumbo subsequently
left Genoa taking his craft first to Marseilles and then, upon recommendation
from Gui-Cresent Fagon, the chief physician <strong>of</strong> Louis XIV, to Paris. This move
was initiated by Zumbo’s desire to gain further aristocratic patronage and, no
doubt, further pr<strong>of</strong>it from his endeavours, but it created more interest in this new
form <strong>of</strong> didactic sculpture in France. 43 Unfortunately, Zumbo, after quickly
attaining patronage and renown in Paris, did not live long, dying two years after
his arrival. Desnoues employed another wax artist, François de la Croix, a
Burgundian ivory carver who happened to be passing through Genoa in 1699.
Having trained de la Croix in Zumbo’s techniques, Desnoues followed Zumbo
back to Paris, eventually opening the first wax anatomical museum in Paris in
1711. 44 It is evident from this fact that Denoues had by then mastered the
techniques necessary to produce the models and was able to pass this knowledge
on to finish the models with de la Croix.
The collaboration <strong>of</strong> Zumbo and Desnoues was crucial for the establishment <strong>of</strong>
the tradition <strong>of</strong> anatomical wax models. The farsighted contribution <strong>of</strong> Desnoues,
42 Lightbown, 1964, p. 564.
43 The arrival <strong>of</strong> wax anatomical figures in France created a market within the prestigious collections. Just
prior to the Revolution the wax artist and surgeon <strong>An</strong>dré Pierre Pinson (1746–1828) created an
extraordinary collection for the Duc D’Orléans within the refurbished Palais Royal. Thus there was a
continuing significant interest in including wax anatomical figures within prestigious personal collections.
Lemire, 1992, p. 289.
44 Burmeister, 2000, p. 32.

was his desire to portray the body in a state <strong>of</strong> suspended animation rather than
as the corpse seen in the dissecting room. Beside his technical skills, Zumbo
brought from his wax dioramas to this partnership a classical stylisation <strong>of</strong> the
body. The three-dimensional interpretation <strong>of</strong> the body that resulted from the
skills <strong>of</strong> this partnership changed the nature <strong>of</strong> anatomical representation from
being something flat and two-dimensional to being an object that could be
contemplated and viewed in an active manner. The desire not to repulse or
frighten their audience with dead figures led to the establishment <strong>of</strong> healthy,
albeit eviscerated, wax figures and body parts which, although based on dead
bodies, were designed to appear ‘fresh’ or ‘alive’.
Florence and Bologna
Forty years after the death <strong>of</strong> Zumbo Italy continued as the centre <strong>of</strong> the
production <strong>of</strong> wax figures in Europe. Funded by the sympathetic archbishop <strong>of</strong>
Bologna, Prospero Lamberti, the sculptor Ercole Lelli (1702–1766) produced a
number <strong>of</strong> full-size wax figures for the newly established anatomical museum in
the Institute <strong>of</strong> Science <strong>of</strong> Bologna in 1740. In 1742, when Lamberti was made
Pope Benedict XIV, one <strong>of</strong> his first initiatives was to commission from Lelli an
extensive production <strong>of</strong> wax anatomical models for the Institute. 45 In order to
produce such a large number <strong>of</strong> models Lelli employed the artist Giovanni
Manzolini (1700–1755) to assist him. In 1745, after a dispute with Lelli over
45 Messbarger, 2001, p. 70.

acknowledgement for his work, Manzolini opened his own anatomical
modelling studio from his home assisted by his wife and fellow artist <strong>An</strong>na
Morandi Manzolini (1716 –1774). Both the Manzolini were knowledgeable about
anatomy, as they possessed a number <strong>of</strong> key texts, including Vesalius’ Fabrica,
with which they engaged in both practical and theoretical senses. 46 Their
combined skills in anatomy, dissection and wax modelling led to national and
international patronage <strong>of</strong> their art. 47 After her husband’s untimely death in 1755,
<strong>An</strong>na Manzolini continued to run the household wax-modelling workshop and
to sculpt wax models for the express purpose <strong>of</strong> teaching normal anatomy. Her
skills were recognised <strong>of</strong>ficially in 1760 when the Bolognese senate conferred
upon her the title <strong>of</strong> Chair <strong>of</strong> <strong>An</strong>atomical Modelling at the University <strong>of</strong>
Bologna. 48 <strong>An</strong>na Manzolini’s abilities were recognised in eighteenth-century
Bologna, a society that, unusually for this time, encouraged intellectual pursuit in
women and embraced the Enlightenment ideals <strong>of</strong> exploring science through
experience and analysis. 49 After her death in 1774, <strong>An</strong>na Manzolini’s collection
was acquired by the Institute <strong>of</strong> Science in Bologna and along with the work <strong>of</strong>
Lelli inspired the establishment <strong>of</strong> further anatomical wax studios in Italy, most
notably La Specola in Florence 50 .
46 Messbarger, 2001, p. 72.
47 Their patrons included the Royal Society in London, the king <strong>of</strong> Sardinia, the Procurator <strong>of</strong> Venice, and
Catherine the Great, amongst others. Messbarger, 2001, p. 71.
48 Messbarger, 2001, p. 75.
49 Newman, 2006, p. 3.
50 www.http://medicina.unica.it/cere/mono02_en.htm (19.08.05)

In 1775 the Imperial Royal Museum <strong>of</strong> Physics and Natural History in Florence,
known as La Specola, 51 was opened to the public. The museum, which was
created to promote scientific advancement in the study <strong>of</strong> natural history,
became a centre for the study and creation <strong>of</strong> wax anatomical models. The
collection <strong>of</strong> wax anatomical models was commissioned for display to the public
by Grand Duke Leopold I and was created in the wax modelling workshop
attached to the museum under its first director Felice Fontana. Fontana was a
former lecturer at the University <strong>of</strong> Pisa, a physiognomist and a chemist. 52
Fontana envisioned a collection that would represent all the anatomical
knowledge <strong>of</strong> his time in wax models with accompanying explanatory texts and
watercolours. 53 The collection today consists <strong>of</strong> three full size statues and 137
cases containing 486 models. 54 The central role that the models held within the
museum indicates that in the eighteenth century in Italy wax anatomical models
had become the predominant form <strong>of</strong> anatomical representation.
During the eighteenth century La Specola also created copies <strong>of</strong> the original
models in the anatomical wax workshop attached to the museum that had been
commissioned by patrons and universities around Italy and Europe. 55 They were
51 The museum became known as La Specola due to the construction <strong>of</strong> an astronomic observatory in 1789
which was part <strong>of</strong> the museum. http://www.specola.unifi.it/cere/history.htm (16.5.06).
52 Poggesi, 2000, p. 12.
53 Lemire, 1992, p. 289.
54 Mazzolini, 2004, p. 47.
55 The commissioning <strong>of</strong> models for the anatomy faculty at the University <strong>of</strong> Pavia citing many <strong>of</strong> the
correspondences between Fontana and Scarpa gives a concise description <strong>of</strong> the commissioning

used as three-dimensional teaching aides to the anatomy studies <strong>of</strong>fered at
universities such as Pavia and Padua, included in aristocratic private museum
collections, and used as training aids for army surgeons. The collections <strong>of</strong> both
the Josephinum in Vienna and the military hospital in Montpellier were
commissioned from Felice Fontana and created by the most famous <strong>of</strong> the wax
modellers who worked at La Specola, Clemente Susini (1754-1814) in conjunction
with anatomist Paolo Mascagni (1753 –1815) and Francesco Calenzuoli (1796-
1829). 56 Although the printing <strong>of</strong> anatomical texts was established in the
northern cities <strong>of</strong> Leiden and Amsterdam, the three-dimensional representation
<strong>of</strong> man was an Italian innovation. As Goethe wrote in the late eighteenth century
after visiting Florence:
We are dealing with plastic anatomy. It has long been
practised for many years in Florence at a high level.
However, it can neither be undertaken nor prosper
anywhere but where sciences, arts, taste, and technique are
perfectly at home and engaged in living activity. 57
arrangements which were discussed regarding the making <strong>of</strong> specific models for outside collections. See
Knoefel, 1979, 219–233.
56 Lemire, 1992, p. 289.
57 Goethe, 1964, p. 366.

The quotation demonstrates Goethe’s awareness that this form <strong>of</strong> anatomical
collection was an important addition to a city’s cultural status as much as a
reflection <strong>of</strong> its cultural sophistication.
Production <strong>of</strong> wax models
Like the relationship between Desnoues and Zumbo, Fontana’s relationship with
the artists within the wax workshop <strong>of</strong> La Specola was a tense one. Fontana
regarded the wax artists as tools in the service <strong>of</strong> science, and allowed them little
in the way <strong>of</strong> artistic license. 58 Mazzolini’s recent research on the workshop
dynamics and recruitment <strong>of</strong> artists shows that artists with sculptural skills were
enlisted to model the figures, while day labourers were used to refine the wax
and work with the moulds. 59 There was, therefore, hierarchy in the creation <strong>of</strong> the
wax models; at the top the director or anatomist who determined which part was
to be represented, then the artist who would make aesthetic contributions, and at
the bottom the labourers who worked under the guidance <strong>of</strong> the artists.
<strong>An</strong> example <strong>of</strong> Fontana’s models at La Specola is a Reclining Female Figure (Fig.
13) created by Clemente Susini in the late eighteenth century, Martin Kemp aptly
describes this as being ‘in the attitude <strong>of</strong> expiring ecstasy as she goes to meet the
58 Mazzolini, 2004, p. 52.
59 Mazzolini, 2004, p. 56.

“maker” <strong>of</strong> such a divine contraption’. 60 The body shape <strong>of</strong> the model is rounded
and pallid, the eyes open and the features <strong>of</strong> the face are attractive. The healthy
nature <strong>of</strong> the body is emphasised by the beauty <strong>of</strong> the external features. The skin
is clear, the colouring is normal and the hair is long and lustrous. The way that
this model is conceived is no longer attached to the earlier allegories <strong>of</strong> death and
dissection. Instead there is a desire by the makers to engage with the scientific
pursuits <strong>of</strong> the Enlightenment and to represent a more idealised female form.
The anatomical waxes were surrounded in the museum by anatomical drawings
and examples <strong>of</strong> other natural history subjects from fungi to plants and flowers. 61
Therefore although the models were commissioned for a range <strong>of</strong> uses outside <strong>of</strong>
the museum, they were still constructed to represent the ideal specimens as a
part <strong>of</strong> the natural history that was broadly collected and displayed within La
Specola.
The production <strong>of</strong> models at La Specola required a series <strong>of</strong> coordinated steps
that began with the decision on which part <strong>of</strong> the anatomy was to be reproduced.
It is apparent that many <strong>of</strong> the models were greatly influenced by the poses and
sections used in famous anatomical illustrations <strong>of</strong> the time such as those by
Vesalius. However, although the anatomical and poses may have followed the
stance <strong>of</strong> figures in the engravings, it is evident from the detail <strong>of</strong> the interior
organs that each model corresponded to the careful dissection <strong>of</strong> a real body
60 Kemp and Wallace, 2000, p. 61.
61 Haviland and Parish, 1970, p. 56.

part. 62 The way that the body was portrayed was already following some
established exemplar. Like the illustrations there was a realisation that the
viewer would be more at ease with the predicament <strong>of</strong> the dissected figure if the
figure was seen to be ‘alive’. This was particularly important when looking at
such realistic representations <strong>of</strong> the body.
It appears however that when dealing with the sculptural elements <strong>of</strong> the wax
anatomical model there were two different areas being addressed by the artists
and the anatomists. First, there was the need for the anatomists to imitate reality
as closely as possible by exposing the internal parts in a manner that conformed
to the conventions <strong>of</strong> dissection and adhered to the reality <strong>of</strong> the internal
anatomy. Second, there was an artistic desire to incorporate this form within a
‘beautiful’ body context, as is seen in Susini’s Reclining female figure. The
interpretation <strong>of</strong> what this ‘beauty’ should correspond to led the wax artists to
imitate contemporary painted figures in their portrayal <strong>of</strong> the body.
Furthermore, the artist also needed to fulfil other criteria, such as the balance
between revealing a body and conforming to ideas <strong>of</strong> decorum that governed
how a body should be portrayed. Hence although Fontana apparently kept a
firm hand on the surgical form <strong>of</strong> dissection, the poses <strong>of</strong> the bodies were clearly
influenced by the taste <strong>of</strong> the period.
62 Mazzolini, 2004, p. 48.

To sum up, the sixteenth century saw the investigation <strong>of</strong> human anatomy as an
extension <strong>of</strong> the humanist belief that a pattern existed that was discernible
between parts <strong>of</strong> nature, particularly the anatomy <strong>of</strong> man. The exploration <strong>of</strong>
anatomy after the relaxation <strong>of</strong> laws associated with dissection in Italy led to a
wider practice <strong>of</strong> dissection which gave rise first to illustrated texts such as
Vesalius’ Fabrica. During the eighteenth century there occurred not only an
expanding interest in the field <strong>of</strong> anatomy but also an accepted style for wax
anatomical models that arose from the practice <strong>of</strong> artists cooperating with the
needs <strong>of</strong> anatomists. This partnership developed a coherent form during the
eighteenth century in Italy that was imitated and exported throughout Europe,
finding an audience amongst initially the aristocracy as much as the growing
number <strong>of</strong> anatomists. The movement <strong>of</strong> these collections promoted a wider
interest that influenced a number <strong>of</strong> associated disciplines.

Chapter Two -The Model Audience.
But as in cutting up a man that’s dead,
The body will not last out to have read
On every part, and therefore men direct
Their speech to parts, that are <strong>of</strong> most effect;
So the worlds carcasse would not last, if I
Were punctual in this anatomy. 63
John Donne’s familiarity with the problems <strong>of</strong> dissection is demonstrated in
these lines from The First <strong>An</strong>niversarie: <strong>An</strong> <strong>An</strong>atomy <strong>of</strong> the World (1612). During
the Renaissance the interest in anatomy was reflected in disciplines such as
poetry and art. It served to entwine the language <strong>of</strong> anatomy around the
contemporary world and familiarised the new public encounter with the internal
workings <strong>of</strong> the body. The body was a fruitful source <strong>of</strong> tropes, metaphors,
similes and figurative twists and references to anatomy were used within art,
literature and poetry. 64
The idea that anatomy was contained within the confines <strong>of</strong> medicine and art is a
contemporary <strong>perspective</strong>. Prior to the formalisation <strong>of</strong> both disciplines the body
was seen as a reflection <strong>of</strong> the world and the pinnacle <strong>of</strong> divine knowledge.
Leonardo da Vinci wrote “We can say that the earth has a vegetative soul, and
63 Donne, 1985, p. 344.
64 Hoeniger, 1992, p. 32.

that its flesh is the land, its bones are the structure <strong>of</strong> the rocks … its blood is the
pools <strong>of</strong> water … its breathing and its pulse are the ebb and flow <strong>of</strong> the sea.“ 65
As already remarked, the definition <strong>of</strong> man as a part <strong>of</strong> the order <strong>of</strong> the world was encompassed
within the Renaissance belief that the macrocosm <strong>of</strong> the universe was reflected in every
microcosm, including the order <strong>of</strong> the body. 66 It seems that there was a corresponding reflection
back into the definition <strong>of</strong> nature as man’s awareness <strong>of</strong> the construction and function <strong>of</strong> the body
advanced. Therefore, as demonstrated by Leonardo’s quotation, the surrounding world was
defined in the new terms <strong>of</strong> the human anatomy.
Beginning with Vesalius, illustration <strong>of</strong> anatomy in both models and drawings
was one not <strong>of</strong> cadavers and dissection but rather a living form <strong>of</strong> skeletons and
eviscerated bodies. This vision <strong>of</strong> apparently ‘walking dead’ had a tw<strong>of</strong>old
purpose. First it was a method <strong>of</strong> distancing anatomy and the workings <strong>of</strong> the
living body from the indelicate nature <strong>of</strong> dissection and the associated gruesome
procurement <strong>of</strong> bodies. Second, this form <strong>of</strong> representation emphasised that
anatomy was a study not <strong>of</strong> pathology but rather <strong>of</strong> the living interior <strong>of</strong> the
human body. Barbara Stafford argues that there was a clear distinction between
the cerebral function <strong>of</strong> explaining the internal workings <strong>of</strong> the human body, and
the physical or corporeal reality <strong>of</strong> cutting and dissecting cadavers. 67 The move
away from the reality <strong>of</strong> dissection was demonstrated within the representation
<strong>of</strong> anatomy in texts and models.
65 Quoted in Burke, p. 208.
66 Kemp, 1981, p. 114.
67 Stafford, 1991, p. 47.

The distinction between dissection and the higher learning <strong>of</strong> anatomy was
emphasised, in illustration, by ‘constructing’ the figure in the landscape. As we
have seen, landscapes were initially employed in the illustrations <strong>of</strong> Vesalius’ De
humani corporis fabrica. Vesalius took a structuralist approach to develop his
description <strong>of</strong> the body starting from the basis <strong>of</strong> the skeleton and then
constructing the entity <strong>of</strong> the living body according to the function <strong>of</strong> its
components and structure. 68 By building rather than progressively revealing the
anatomy <strong>of</strong> the body the text indicates a more positive understanding <strong>of</strong> the
parts <strong>of</strong> the body. Thus the skeleton was considered in almost architectural terms
as the framework upon which to build the classically inspired body. 69 The
reversal <strong>of</strong> order, to dissection, in the illustration <strong>of</strong> the body emphasised the
structural focus <strong>of</strong> anatomy.
A number <strong>of</strong> later anatomists such as Godfried Bidloo (1649 – 1713) and Bernard
Siegfried Albinus (1697 – 1770) published anatomical texts that extended the
study <strong>of</strong> anatomy. 70 Albinus’ Tabulae skeleti et musculorum corporis humani (1747)
was innovative due to his pursuit <strong>of</strong> the ideal anatomical figure. He used
meticulous measurements to inform drawings produced by Jan Wanderlaar
(1690 –1759), and avoided drawing his examples from a single subject, instead
68 Hildebrand, 2004, p. 297.
69 Roberts and Tomlinson, 1992, p. 257.
70 Kemp, 2001, p. 11.

using careful measurements <strong>of</strong> many examples. Many such later texts took
Vesalius’ Fabrica as the exemplar for the conventions <strong>of</strong> anatomical illustration.
Figures were placed in elaborate landscapes and the arrangement <strong>of</strong> sections
within each text was closely based on Vesalius.
In Vesalius’ Fabrica the skeleton in the second plate leans against a memorial
with the Latin text, ‘Man lives through his genius, all the rest is mortal’, 71 while
considering a skull in a melancholic scene <strong>of</strong> memento mori (Fig.14). The
background is barren rock and earth, while the light raking from in front <strong>of</strong> the
figure gives it a three-dimensional appearance and situates it within the
landscape. In Godfried Bidloo’s <strong>An</strong>atomica humani corporis, Amstelodami (1685),
Gerard de Lairesse uses familiar devices employed by illustrators such as
<strong>perspective</strong>, shading and background. He extends the metaphor <strong>of</strong> the skeleton
being the framework <strong>of</strong> the body by the use <strong>of</strong> architectural references in the
background. In the Skeleton with the hour glass (Fig. 15) the skeleton is surrounded
by carefully chosen symbols. Many <strong>of</strong> these symbols, such as the open
sarcophagus with the draped shroud and the hourglass running out in the hand
<strong>of</strong> the skeleton, allude to the association, current in the seventeenth century, <strong>of</strong>
the study <strong>of</strong> anatomy with death and mortality. The large architectural arch and
the lid <strong>of</strong> the sarcophagus separate the skeleton from the trees, houses and
mountains beyond, to suggest the ultimate separation <strong>of</strong> death. Similarly in
71 This quote was taken from Virgil’s elegies on Maecenas. Hildebrand, 2004, p. 299.

Skeleton emerges from the grave (Fig. 16) in Bidloo’s <strong>An</strong>atomia humani corporis the
skeleton stands at the edge <strong>of</strong> its grave holding a shroud with a broken Egyptian
obelisk and classical urn in the background. These devices have two-fold
meaning. Not only is there an analogy being drawn between the skeleton and the
structure <strong>of</strong> buildings behind, but there is also an emphasis on the civilised
nature <strong>of</strong> mankind. The skeleton <strong>of</strong> a man is surrounded by his inventions, and
so represents the world as shaped by man. A final example <strong>of</strong> this use <strong>of</strong> the
symbolic background is an engraving by Jan Wanderlaar Tabula IV (Fig. 17) that
places a tall human figure in front <strong>of</strong> a feeding rhinoceros. The rhinoceros is a
pointed reference to Dürer’s woodcut <strong>of</strong> 1515, alluding to the associated study <strong>of</strong>
natural history and anatomy. The reference to Dürer’s famous woodcut
associates the role played by Dürer in exploring the relationship between
empirical knowledge and the desire for objectivity with this later endeavour. The
rhinoceros grazing in the background underscores the anatomists desire for
proportional objectivity in the engraving <strong>of</strong> the figure.
Conventions <strong>of</strong> style in models
How then were this manner <strong>of</strong> detachment from the process <strong>of</strong> dissection and the
use <strong>of</strong> allegory achieved in the later production <strong>of</strong> anatomical models? As we
have seen the form <strong>of</strong> wax models followed closely the divisions <strong>of</strong> the body
illustrated in prominent anatomical texts such as Vesalius’ De humanis corporis
fabrica and Albinus’ Tabulae skeleti et musculorum corporis humani (1747). The

emerging use <strong>of</strong> models as instructive tools meant that there was little room for
diversion from the central focus <strong>of</strong> internal organs and structure. Even so, the
outward beauty <strong>of</strong> the eighteenth-century anatomical models was considered
important as it provided an artistic context. The wax anatomical models created
in the latter half <strong>of</strong> the eighteenth century attained a standardisation <strong>of</strong> form that
had not occurred in the earlier work <strong>of</strong> Zumbo. The influence <strong>of</strong> Albinus’
adherence to ideal proportions drawn from many examples effected the form <strong>of</strong>
eighteenth-century models and supported the central tenets <strong>of</strong> neoclassicism. 72
The models such as those made at La Specola in Florence by Clemente Susini and
at the University <strong>of</strong> Bologna by <strong>An</strong>na Manzolini (1716-74) do not show what
must, in reality, have appeared to be an incoherent tangle <strong>of</strong> organs and vessels.
Instead, following the style <strong>of</strong> anatomical illustration, they provide an ordered
three-dimensional record <strong>of</strong> the human interior.
Audience
During the eighteenth and nineteenth century the anatomical model went
through a number <strong>of</strong> changes, many <strong>of</strong> which were the result <strong>of</strong> the needs and
expectations <strong>of</strong> the various audiences that viewed them. The three main arenas
for wax anatomical models during this period were the public anatomical
museum, the art schools and the medical schools. It is important to examine the
72 Elkins, 1986, p. 96.

needs <strong>of</strong> each <strong>of</strong> these three audience groups to understand the effect they had
upon the form <strong>of</strong> these models.
<strong>An</strong>atomical Museums
The small-scale wax model <strong>An</strong>atomy <strong>of</strong> a seated woman (n.d) (Fig. 18) created by the French modelmaker
<strong>An</strong>dré Pinson in the late eighteenth century has two immediately striking qualities. The
first is the unusual pose <strong>of</strong> the seated figure. 73 The body is half twisted away with the right hand
held up to resist being touched, her gaze modestly averted. The second is the contrast between
the high degree <strong>of</strong> detail <strong>of</strong> her inner organs and the simple treatment <strong>of</strong> the body. These factors,
combined with the small scale <strong>of</strong> the figure, indicate that it was created specifically for the
contemplation <strong>of</strong> a non-medical audience. There is no doubt that the inner organs <strong>of</strong> the figure
are the focus <strong>of</strong> the work, but not in a manner that would have been useful to a medical audience.
Rather, the classical allusions <strong>of</strong> the figure, emphasised by the pose and the plinth wrapped in a
white sheet like a shroud on which the figure sits indicate a broader audience that saw anatomy
as a source <strong>of</strong> knowledge and entertainment.
Early anatomical museums like La Specola and The Josephinum in Vienna were
funded in the eighteenth century by royal patrons for the advancement <strong>of</strong>
surgical and anatomical knowledge. By the late eighteenth century Britain and
France particularly had become the centres <strong>of</strong> anatomical learning and progress.
A large number <strong>of</strong> public anatomical museums arose across Europe, Britain and
‘the new world’ that were <strong>of</strong>ten promoted by surgeons 74 . These museums were
used both as a means <strong>of</strong> advertising the surgical knowledge <strong>of</strong> their owners by
73 Petherbridge, 1997, p. 94.
74 Haviland and Parish, 1970, p. 57.

lectures on anatomy, and for educating the general public. 75 Models displayed in
these museums were used to explain the internal organs, particularly the
reproductive organs. These models consisted <strong>of</strong> predominantly whole body
models that helped the audience understand the situation <strong>of</strong> the organs. Many <strong>of</strong>
the models had previously been in private anatomical collections in Europe, and
in Britain they <strong>of</strong>ten came from anatomical collections in France. 76 This indicates
that by the late eighteenth century there was a trade in existing models and an
expansion in the production <strong>of</strong> these models by companies and individuals,
particularly in France, that catered to the new public audience.
During the nineteenth century, with the rise <strong>of</strong> the public anatomical museum
the outward beauty <strong>of</strong> the wax models features grew in importance. This
development beyond their earlier status as ‘stand in ‘ bodies for teaching
dissection led to a tension between the internal and external treatment. In other
words, there was a need to make the models acceptable for the general public
and their sense <strong>of</strong> decorum while at the same time presenting accurate anatomy.
The use <strong>of</strong> classical names for these models in nineteenth century Britain and
France enabled them to be seen in a more artistic light, making them accessible to
a female audience in particular. 77 Many <strong>of</strong> the advertising brochures for
anatomical museums during the nineteenth century describe these wax
75 Sappol, 2002, p. 277.
76 Bermeister, 2000, pp. 35-36.
77 A major focus <strong>of</strong> the popular nineteenth century anatomical museum was the education <strong>of</strong> women about
childbirth and venereal disease. Burmeister, 2000, p. 26.

anatomical models in the ennobling language <strong>of</strong> classicism, describing them as
the ‘Florentine Venus’ or as a, ‘work <strong>of</strong> art’. 78
The anatomy that such a female figure revealed was generally her internal
organs, which would be displayed in demountable stages (Fig. 19). But when a
reclining female wax figure was referred to as an ’anatomical Venus’, or a
‘Florentine Venus’, it is apparent that the reference is not to the Greek or Roman
statues. Rather the figures relate to the reclining Venus <strong>of</strong> Renaissance paintings,
such as Titian’s Venus <strong>of</strong> Urbino (Fig. 20) or Giorgione’s Venus Asleep (Fig. 21). If
we look at the body <strong>of</strong> the Reclining female figure created by Susini in the late
eighteenth century it appears to be ‘active’ in that the palms <strong>of</strong> her hands are
turned down so as almost to lift her chest up from the bed in a pose reminiscent
<strong>of</strong> Titian’s Danae receives the golden rain (Fig. 22). The curve <strong>of</strong> her figure is similar
to Danae’s with the knee <strong>of</strong> her right leg bent upwards. Typically the eyes <strong>of</strong>
such an ‘anatomical Venus’ would be open, signifying a living figure; the arms
were posed in either a modest or surrendering position; and the legs were
similarly posed in a modest ‘thighs together’ position that obscured the genital
area. The ‘anatomical Venus’ <strong>of</strong>ten shared similar adornment to the Venus’ <strong>of</strong>
Renaissance painting with intricately plaited long hair and velvet surrounds. 79
The embellishment <strong>of</strong> the ‘anatomical Venus’ with both name and decoration
78 The Times, advertisement for Mr Sarti <strong>of</strong> Florence’s anatomical museum. March 28, 1839, p. 5.
79 Lemire, 1992, p. 286.

was important in associating the figures with the rich tradition <strong>of</strong> learning and
art <strong>of</strong> the Renaissance.
The attention to the detail <strong>of</strong> the external dressing and appearance <strong>of</strong> the models
also made the viewing <strong>of</strong> the anatomy more acceptable to an educated audience.
The familiarity with these paintings in both France and Britain would have been
widespread through the medium <strong>of</strong> engravings. 80 The outward appearance
models served to engage with art, elevating the science <strong>of</strong> anatomy by
association with paintings and sculpture.
Ludmilla Jordanova compares the bodies <strong>of</strong> the female wax anatomical figures to
Bernini’s sculpture The Ecstacy <strong>of</strong> St Theresa (Fig. 23), observing that both display
an ambiguous mix <strong>of</strong> religious and sexual ecstasy. 81 Unlike Jordanova, however,
I would argue that this similarity was not a consequence <strong>of</strong> a common desire to
excite or titillate the audience, but arises from a deliberate attempt by the makers
<strong>of</strong> wax figures to associate these works with art so as to improve the public
acceptance <strong>of</strong> anatomy. In other words, this ambiguous mix <strong>of</strong> the religious and
the sexual was the result <strong>of</strong> an attempt to sanitise the harsh realities <strong>of</strong> dissection.
But rather than the aim <strong>of</strong> the artists and anatomists to portray the body as being
80 The circulation <strong>of</strong> engravings <strong>of</strong> popular Italian renaissance images in the nineteenth century was
particularly popular in the weekly magazines such as the Penny Magazine in London. See example in Fig.
27.
81 Jordanova, 1989, p. 45.

sexually alluring, as Jordanova claims, their aim was to idealise the body into the
realms <strong>of</strong> respectable or ‘high’ art.
<strong>Art</strong> Schools and the Écorché model.
In 1854 a collection <strong>of</strong> wax figures by Italian artists <strong>of</strong> the sixteenth century, the
Gherardini Collection, was purchased for what was then the South Kensington
Museum, later the Victoria and Albert Museum, in London. 82 These figures,
sixteen <strong>of</strong> which were attributed to Michelangelo Buonarroti (1475-1564), are
mostly described by Eric Maclagan as being ‘sketches’. One figure was made
between 1505 and 1513 and was most probably the sketch for a Slave for the tomb
<strong>of</strong> Pope Julius II. 83 These models demonstrate the early association <strong>of</strong> wax,
dissection and art. Wax provided a quick and cheap medium in which artists
could ‘sketch’ what was before them in three-dimensional modelling.
Furthermore, the purchase <strong>of</strong> these figures by the South Kensington Museum
demonstrates a renewed interest in the process <strong>of</strong> anatomical learning and art in
the middle <strong>of</strong> the nineteenth century.
The artist’s ability to produce an accurate rendering <strong>of</strong> the body was paramount
in Europe from the sixteenth century onwards, and consequently there was a
need for artists to understand the muscular and skeletal systems. 84 By the
82 MacLagan, 1924, p. 4.
83 MacLagan, 1924, p. 8.
84 Kemp and Wallace, 2000, p. 11.

eighteenth century many <strong>of</strong> the European art schools were in the process <strong>of</strong>
establishing a coherent curriculum and the formalised study <strong>of</strong> anatomy became
an integral part <strong>of</strong> the education <strong>of</strong> a developing artist. This central part <strong>of</strong> an
artist’s education required models that showed the human muscular system.
These models, know as écorché models, show flayed men, stripped back to reveal
their muscles displayed through dynamic poses. Often beautifully rendered and
sometimes cast in bronze, these models provided an intermediate stage for artists
to create paintings and understand the body. 85
Ecorché models were initially produced during the renaissance by such artists as
Ludovico Cigoli (1559 –1613) and became particularly popular both in art schools
and medical schools during the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries. 86
<strong>An</strong>thea Callen argues that during the nineteenth century in Paris there was a
substantial cross-pollination between the disciplines <strong>of</strong> art and medicine since
the anatomists who taught at the medical school <strong>of</strong>ten also lectured in the art
school. 87 The crossover <strong>of</strong> teachers between the two disciplines would have
influenced the form <strong>of</strong> the models so as to make them relevant both to artists
studying the muscular and skeletal systems and to medical students learning
each muscle’s group and function.
85 Elkin, 1999, p. 134.
86 Kemp and Wallace, 2000, p. 78.
87 Callen, 1997, p. 24.

Écorché models <strong>of</strong>ten copied the more athletic poses <strong>of</strong> classical Greek or Roman
statues. 88 The pose <strong>of</strong> the Apollo Belvedere (c. 5 BC) (Fig. 24) was employed for
many <strong>of</strong> the écorché models, such as the bronze écorché by Jean-<strong>An</strong>toine Houdon
(Fig. 25). <strong>An</strong>other popular pose that became associated with the écorché model
was first used by van Calcar in Vesalius’ Fabrica. This pose is the one known as
the adlocutio pose in which the figure makes a gesture <strong>of</strong> address or declamation,
normally employed by Roman emperors before a battle. The arm is raised and
the weight firmly on the front foot in a contrapposto pose (Fig. 26) 89 . The use <strong>of</strong>
this pose not only associated écorché models with Roman statues but also with
the illustrations to Vesalius’ text, thus identifying the models with what was still
a central work on anatomy. As may be seen from the cover <strong>of</strong> The Penny Magazine
(Fig. 27), illustrations using Roman statues were widespread at this time, the
consequence <strong>of</strong> the interest in nineteenth-century Britain in Roman civilisation.
The imitation <strong>of</strong> Roman sculptures by the British and French art academies
served a number <strong>of</strong> purposes. The first was the use <strong>of</strong> the outstretched limbs or
twisted torso <strong>of</strong> familiar sculptures to demonstrate the mechanics <strong>of</strong> the muscles.
The second was the direct association between the artist and the original sculptor
<strong>of</strong> antiquity, and the third was a message about culture. The association with the
higher learning <strong>of</strong> the Greeks and Romans through the imitation <strong>of</strong> well-known
88 Callen,1997, p. 34.
89 Singer 1957, p. 194.

statues was a subtext that fitted neatly into the halls <strong>of</strong> nineteenth century
academia.
The Ideal <strong>Body</strong>
The practice <strong>of</strong> copying the poses <strong>of</strong> classical sculpture in the form <strong>of</strong> écorché
statues to emphasise the muscular system had a further effect, which was to
encourage the pursuit <strong>of</strong> ideal proportion and ideal form. Ecorché statues were
distinguished by their careful proportions from earlier wax anatomical models,
such as those produced by Desnoues and Zumbo, which closely followed the
proportions <strong>of</strong> a particular dissected body, as a consequence <strong>of</strong> Zumbo’s use <strong>of</strong>
casts and Desnoues’ insistence that the work represent a sanitised dissected
body. Moreover, the motivations for creating the two types <strong>of</strong> work were
distinct. The wax models had been made as a response to the problems <strong>of</strong>
decaying cadavers, but the écorchés were created predominantly for the
instruction <strong>of</strong> practitioners <strong>of</strong> medicine and art.
<strong>An</strong>other factor may have been awareness <strong>of</strong> Albinus’ publications, given the
strong association between model and illustration. 90 Ludwig Choulant contends
that from the 1730s, when Albinus published his books on anatomy, including
Tabulae skeleti et musculorum corporis humani, until 1770, there was a vacillation
between Vesalian representation and Albinian representation, but after 1770
90 Choulant, 1920, p. 277.

most representations <strong>of</strong> the body followed the Albinian pattern. Although
Vesalius posed his figures in the form <strong>of</strong> classical statues, their proportions were
based on those <strong>of</strong> cadavers. Albinus, by contrast, presented figures according to
the precepts <strong>of</strong> ideal art, measuring carefully a number <strong>of</strong> bodies so that “from
the endless variety <strong>of</strong> nature the best elements may be selected”. 91
The use <strong>of</strong> ideal proportions and perfect muscle detail avoided the pathological
example <strong>of</strong> medical interest. For the medical fraternity the écorché model became
more <strong>of</strong> a mnemonic aid to the muscle groups <strong>of</strong> the body, acting as a threedimensional
learning tool, rather than a confrontation with a representation <strong>of</strong> an
individual dissection. The crossover <strong>of</strong> écorché models into the art schools led to
the figures becoming a genre <strong>of</strong> their own, <strong>of</strong>ten seen in miniature and cast in
bronze. These figures, in England particularly, became part <strong>of</strong> the nineteenth
century interest in the subject <strong>of</strong> the nude. Classical and athletic they epitomised
the Victorian ideal <strong>of</strong> learning and neoclassicism.
The Medical Audience
Medical training <strong>of</strong> surgeons in the eighteenth century was conducted in Britain
and France in privately run schools <strong>of</strong> anatomy. The schools were commercial
concerns, charging students to attend and placing the schools in direct
competition with each other, leading to a demand and resulting shortage <strong>of</strong>
91 Albinus, Academicarum annotationum libri I-VIII, quoted in Choulant, 1920, p. 277.

cadavers to dissect. 92 Although some anatomy schools, such as William Hunter’s
in London, were known to provide a cadaver for each student, the majority <strong>of</strong>
instructors relied upon the use <strong>of</strong> illustrations and models to supplement the lack
<strong>of</strong> bodies. 93 Hence the surgical interest in models remained closely tied to
dissection.
The use <strong>of</strong> plaster casts was one solution for the lack <strong>of</strong> cadavers as there was
little production <strong>of</strong> wax models in Britain. 94 However, the production <strong>of</strong> wax
anatomical models in France in the late eighteenth century was the main source
<strong>of</strong> models imported into Britain. 95 These models had fine anatomical detail and
were produced by the same companies as ones being shown in anatomical
museums. The use <strong>of</strong> the same type <strong>of</strong> models blurred the distinction between
the collections within the anatomy schools and the public anatomy museums.
The boundary between museums and schools was further eroded by the practice
<strong>of</strong> surgeons opening their own private anatomical collections to the public for a
fee. 96 The <strong>An</strong>atomy act <strong>of</strong> 1832, 97 regulated the supply <strong>of</strong> corpses for both private
anatomy schools and schools attached to hospitals however it did not increase
92 Burmeister, 2000, p. 63.
93 Lawrence, 1995, p. 210.
94 Burmeister, 2000, p. 64.
95 Russell, 1963, p. 48.
96 Russell, 1963, p. xlix
97 The <strong>An</strong>atomy Act <strong>of</strong> 1832 was known as the Warburton <strong>An</strong>atomy Act. This act provided for people to
will their bodies to science and allowed medical schools to utilise unclaimed bodies for anatomical
purposes. Haviland and Parish, 1970, p. 68.

the number <strong>of</strong> corpses available. Hospitals consequently had the advantage <strong>of</strong>
providing beds to the sick and destitute within parishes on the understanding
that the bodies would be donated for dissection. 98 This eventually led to the
dominance <strong>of</strong> hospital based anatomical schools and the collapse <strong>of</strong> the private
anatomical schools. 99 The resulting dissolution <strong>of</strong> private anatomical schools,
therefore, released a large number <strong>of</strong> wax models that had been privately
collected by surgeons, into the auction rooms. Many <strong>of</strong> the collections were
bought by existing public anatomical museums to expand their previously
haphazard collections. 100 Therefore although models were in demand prior to the
passing <strong>of</strong> the <strong>An</strong>atomy Act, for the medical audience the need for large numbers
<strong>of</strong> models declined considerably once anatomy training moved to the hospitals in
Britain. The reduced demand for large numbers <strong>of</strong> models in the early nineteenth
century ultimately effected the type <strong>of</strong> model produced for the medical
pr<strong>of</strong>ession in the nineteenth century.
Moulages are casts taken from pathological examples, particularly skin diseases,
and then produced in wax to represent diseases in scale. These examples utilise
the translucent qualities <strong>of</strong> wax that gives the moulage a similar appearance to
skin. Moulages became widespread in the medical arena at the turn <strong>of</strong> the
nineteenth century, when they were used for teaching and documenting
98 Burmeister, 2000, p. 66.
99 Russell, 1963, p. xxxiii –xxxiv.
100 Burmeister, 2000, p. 69.

pathological examples particularly <strong>of</strong> skin disorders. 101 Produced widely across
Europe in Vienna, Florence, Paris and London, 102 this form <strong>of</strong> wax anatomical
model was different from other anatomical models for a number <strong>of</strong> reasons. First
the moulage was a direct cast <strong>of</strong> the skin <strong>of</strong> a patient, allowing for little in the
way <strong>of</strong> artistic interpretation instead relying upon the technical abilities <strong>of</strong> the
mouleur or mouleuse. 103 Second the example was usually one <strong>of</strong> disease rather
than a demonstration <strong>of</strong> the function <strong>of</strong> a healthy body. Finally these examples
were concerned predominantly with the surface <strong>of</strong> the body rather than the inner
organs. One can see from the example (Fig. 27a.) that the detail <strong>of</strong> the skin is
complemented by the attention to detail such as eyebrow and eyelashes. The
sense <strong>of</strong> the individual is emphasised in these examples due to the use <strong>of</strong> casts,
which contrasts starkly with the idealised bodies <strong>of</strong> the anatomical models from
the same period.
In concentrating on the pathological example rather than the ideal body these
models fulfilled a medical need beyond the teaching <strong>of</strong> pure anatomy. They were
not made to teach the functions <strong>of</strong> the body but rather to describe in a vivid
manner the variety <strong>of</strong> problems that doctors encountered. These carefully
finished models aptly met the need for practical teaching aides that addressed
101 Tay, 2005, p. 45.
102 Shnalke, 2004, p. 210.
103 Schnalke, 2004, p. 211.

problems relating to disease. Moulages continued to be produced mainly within
hospitals into the twentieth century.
The differing natures <strong>of</strong> the audiences for anatomical models therefore had an
impact on the divergence <strong>of</strong> types <strong>of</strong> wax anatomical models during the early
nineteenth century. At this time the production <strong>of</strong> models and dissemination <strong>of</strong>
examples was at its height. But as surgery and anatomy became formalised there
was a further move away from plundering artistic iconography. Instead as
anatomical models became associated with the dissemination <strong>of</strong> important
knowledge regarding the function <strong>of</strong> organs and the cure <strong>of</strong> medical disorders
there was a renewed interest in finding an appropriate way to represent the
body.

Chapter Three – New Directions.
New men, new ideas, new influences and new
companions, new conceptions <strong>of</strong> medicine, now all
beginning to exert their influence and started a fresh
moulding <strong>of</strong> the mind. The circle <strong>of</strong> my friends and
acquaintances became considerably enlarged and many
<strong>of</strong> these newly found friends had a different outlook. 104
Richard Berry, The pr<strong>of</strong>essor <strong>of</strong> anatomy at the University <strong>of</strong> Melbourne during
the nineteenth century, here describes in a very personal sense the atmosphere <strong>of</strong>
change that had swept through the world <strong>of</strong> anatomy. By the beginning <strong>of</strong> the
nineteenth century interest in anatomy was widespread, science and medicine
were separate disciplines taught within universities in the cities <strong>of</strong> Britain,
Europe, the colonies and America. Public health education and matters <strong>of</strong>
reproduction were addressed within the private anatomical museums that
catered to the modesty <strong>of</strong> their audiences by segregating the sessions between
women and men. 105 In the art world nude figures began to dominate the
Academy shows in London, both in painting and in sculpture in the midnineteenth
century. 106 However, increased commercialism in the exhibition and
use <strong>of</strong> wax models, and the formalisation <strong>of</strong> the medical departments effected the
status <strong>of</strong> the wax anatomical model, both as ‘works <strong>of</strong> art’ and the cutting edge <strong>of</strong>
scientific discovery. The boundaries between science and art were sought
104 R.J.A. Berry, 1954, p.79.
105 Colligan, 1994, p. 52.
106 Smith, 2001, p. 18.

particularly by the medical world that wanted to establish an aesthetic that
firmly defined the difference between the interpretation <strong>of</strong> the body and
scientific knowledge.
As the centre <strong>of</strong> anatomical learning and illustration had moved from Italy and
northern Europe to France and Britain by the nineteenth century, this chapter
will focus predominantly upon the changes that occurred in these countries and
prompted the change in form and status <strong>of</strong> the wax anatomical models.
In universities wax anatomical models played a part in the establishment <strong>of</strong>
medical courses both in France and Britain. University anatomy museums were a
standard feature <strong>of</strong>ten mentioned in advertisements to attract medical
students 107 . The inclusion <strong>of</strong> wax models within the Ecoles de Santé, formed in
1794 after the French Revolution, was central in converting the French medical
system from a text based to an observation-based format. 108 Models provided a
three-dimensional way <strong>of</strong> learning the much-needed anatomical knowledge
necessary to support the clinical and practical teaching. The combining <strong>of</strong> both
medical and surgical learning within the one school meant that all <strong>of</strong> the students
were taught anatomy using cadavers and models and the surgeons attained the
same status as the more academic physicians.
107 Sappol, 2002, p. 276.
108 Lemire, 1992, p. 290.

The stylised form <strong>of</strong> wax models seemed problematic by the middle <strong>of</strong> the
nineteenth century. Surgeons within the universities wanted to distance
themselves from their barber-surgeon beginnings and from associations with the
models <strong>of</strong> the popular anatomical museums. 109 Earlier models, which were
already within the public domain, particularly in Britain and in various colonial
cities such as Melbourne, continued to circulate and became absorbed into
commercial museums that incorporated anatomical figures into a wider display
<strong>of</strong> wax representations. 110 The science <strong>of</strong> phrenology was demonstrated by the
busts <strong>of</strong> known murderers and criminals whose likenesses were displayed in
wax alongside the anatomical models. 111 The emergence <strong>of</strong> wax museums such
as Rackstrow’s Museum in 1779 in Fleet Street, London and the still famous
Madame Tussaud’s, which had evolved from wax anatomical museums 112 ,
eroded the status <strong>of</strong> the wax anatomical figure and led to them being associated
with amusement, titillation and the macabre. Consequently medical faculties
wanted to distance the earlier full body anatomical models from the medical
models created for learning within the universities. 113 There was a need for a
specifically medical interpretation <strong>of</strong> the body. Within the medical schools
109
110 Melbourne, 1861, p. 2.
111 Melbourne, 1866, p.1.
112 Madame Tussaud was the niece <strong>of</strong> the Swiss physician Christopher Curtius who devoted himself first to
wax anatomical model making and then to creating wax miniatures <strong>of</strong> the French aristocracy, notably Louis
XVI, Benjamin Franklin and Voltaire amongst others, none <strong>of</strong> his anatomical models still exist. He opened
a museum in Paris and taught his niece the art <strong>of</strong> wax modelling. Haviland and Parish, 1970, p. 63.
113 Hopwood, 2004, p. 174.

models began to be made which were specifically created for a didactic purpose
by modellers and anatomists working within the medical schools. 114 This
separate medical interpretation <strong>of</strong> the body was realised against an increasing
focus on the nude within nineteenth century art.
Polychromatic Sculpture
Tinted Venus (1851-56) (Fig. 28), a life size marble sculpture by John Gibson,
aroused enormous debate when first exhibited at the International Exhibition in
London in 1852. 115 The form <strong>of</strong> the sculpture was in keeping with the neoclassical
style which had been the focus <strong>of</strong> Gibson’s work, but, the tinting <strong>of</strong> the flesh and
features, probably using coloured wax, 116 unnerved both the public and critics,
who considered it unchaste. Henry Weekes addressed the issue <strong>of</strong> coloured
sculpture in his lecture <strong>of</strong> 1880:
The absence <strong>of</strong> Colour in a statue is, in short, one <strong>of</strong> the
peculiarities that removes it so entirely from common Nature
that the most vulgarly constituted mind may contemplate it
without its causing any feeling <strong>of</strong> a sensuous kind. The eye
learns to look upon it not as a real existence, but as a sort <strong>of</strong>
114 Lemire, 1992, p. 290.
115 Blühm, 1996, p. 122.
116 Blühm, 1996, p. 122.

visible representation <strong>of</strong> some admirable concentrated essence
that excites our admiration, or calls forth our imitation… 117
As Weekes’ lecture demonstrates, the representation <strong>of</strong> the body within the ‘high
art’ world was undergoing a wider debate. It struggled to emulate classical
sculpture without crossing the boundaries <strong>of</strong> taste into the more lewd display <strong>of</strong>
flesh that nudity invited. Paintings <strong>of</strong> nude figures followed certain pictorial
conventions that established these boundaries. These included demonstrations <strong>of</strong>
modesty such as the gaze <strong>of</strong> the model being indirect or downcast and the pubic
area being obscured. However, in sculpture these conventions were harder to
address . The most striking difference between the realistic representation <strong>of</strong> the
body and what was perceived as ‘art’ in sculpture involved the absence <strong>of</strong>
colour. The clarity <strong>of</strong> marble or bronze conveyed a sense <strong>of</strong> these figures being
more closely related to form and object than to the human body.
The debate was further complicated by the discovery that classical sculpture had
itself been coloured, although to what extent remained unknown. 118
Neoclassicism, which shaped the interpretation <strong>of</strong> the nude in art during the
nineteenth century, encouraged artists to investigate naturalism in the pose <strong>of</strong>
the model and accuracy in portraying the Greco - Roman form in art, 119 but the
application <strong>of</strong> colour in combination with the naturalism <strong>of</strong> the pose presented a
117 Weekes, 1880, p. 169.
118 Yarrington, 1996, p. 84.
119 Leoussi, 1998, p.31.

figure considered too close to reality. John Gibson and the French artist Jean-
Léon Gérôme, 120 wanted to create their works in the manner <strong>of</strong> the ancient
Greeks, but in using colour, particularly on the flesh and features <strong>of</strong> the
sculptures. Their work was considered to be attempting to imitate nature rather
than interpret it.
So where did anatomical models <strong>of</strong> the nineteenth century fit into this discourse?
The use <strong>of</strong> classical names within the commercial anatomical museums
continued, and ‘Florentine’ became shorthand for meaning realistically finished
in the manner <strong>of</strong> the models from La Specola. 121 The enduring circulation <strong>of</strong>
models with flesh coloured tinted wax presented a disturbingly realistic
rendition <strong>of</strong> the idealised classical bodies. This was precisely the form that nude
sculptures <strong>of</strong> the nineteenth century were resisting. The opposing nature <strong>of</strong> the
two forms <strong>of</strong> representation <strong>of</strong> the body led to wax models being referred to
when a sculpture was being denigrated As such there was a clear denial <strong>of</strong> wax
models being in any way associated by critics with ‘high art.’ 122 Added to this
there was a pr<strong>of</strong>usion <strong>of</strong> wax models being used in a wider commercial context,
as models for hats or for shop dummies, which further confused the public
response both to polychromatic sculpture and the status or intention <strong>of</strong> the wax
120 For details on the work <strong>of</strong> Gerôme and his adherence to Greco-Roman use <strong>of</strong> colour in sculpture. Ref.
Blühm 1996, p. 184.
121 Pilbeam, 2003, p.137.
122 Yarrington, 1996, p .84.

anatomical models. 123 Therefore, although the early intention <strong>of</strong> wax artists was
to associate the models with art by using the canons <strong>of</strong> classical and renaissance
art, nineteenth century neoclassical artists had established different boundaries
that excluded these models from being considered as art.
By the middle <strong>of</strong> the nineteenth century there was a change in the manner <strong>of</strong>
representation <strong>of</strong> the body in science and medicine. If we look at the illustrations
<strong>of</strong> the body by Henry Vandyke Carter in Henry Gray’s <strong>An</strong>atomy, Descriptive and
Surgical, first published in 1858(Fig. 29), it is evident that the style <strong>of</strong> drawing has
changed to a form that lacks any reference to the neoclassicism <strong>of</strong> earlier
anatomical illustrations. The line <strong>of</strong> the illustration is unadorned and
diagrammatic, it is lacking a shadow attaching it the space around it and any
colour that is used is intentionally unrealistic. There is no background landscape
or any form <strong>of</strong> individual feature such as flowing hair or expression on the face
<strong>of</strong> the example. The body is shown in sections that relate directly to the text but
are not shown within a whole body context. The light source is undetermined
and the style reductive to such an extent that the final schematic rendering leaves
the figure ‘mute’ and lacking in metaphor. It is an attempt to contain the
meaning <strong>of</strong> the image to the sum <strong>of</strong> its parts and the way the isolated body part
is built and used. This technical mode <strong>of</strong> illustration served a number <strong>of</strong>
purposes. The separation <strong>of</strong> the ‘medical body’ from the artistic rendition <strong>of</strong> the
123 Yarrington, 1996, p. 85.

nude that was dominating the shows at the academy underscored the rise and
separation <strong>of</strong> the surgical pr<strong>of</strong>ession from its earlier beginnings. At the same time
this mode <strong>of</strong> illustration aligned medicine with other ‘modern’ sciences such as
engineering that similarly employed diagrammatic illustrations to describe the
new machines <strong>of</strong> industry. 124 This manner <strong>of</strong> illustration inferred that the body
like engines and buildings described in a similar pictorial manner were
completely understood, mapped and repairable.
The style <strong>of</strong> illustrations in Gray’s <strong>An</strong>atomy was an attempt to legitimise notions
<strong>of</strong> ‘serious’ science and medicine away from the ‘frivolity’ <strong>of</strong> art and the
‘quackery’ <strong>of</strong> the street. 125 In the use <strong>of</strong> diagrammatic form the illustrations <strong>of</strong>
Gray’s <strong>An</strong>atomy attempted to move away from the artistically ‘interpreted body’.
Of course, this form was in itself an interpretation that was consciously
associated with other sciences. The belief that science needed to exist without the
bias <strong>of</strong> illustration affected by the artistic discourse is one that persists to this
day. The question <strong>of</strong> legitimacy was an important one in the mid-nineteenth
century as there were still a large proportion <strong>of</strong> informally trained medical
practitioners selling their wares and advertising their ‘quackery’ in the
newspapers. 126 As such the change in style promoted by the illustrations in
124 Hildebrand, 2004, p. 306.
125 Burmeister, 2000, p. 203.
126 Burmeister, 2000, p. 253.

Gray’s <strong>An</strong>atomy provided a form <strong>of</strong> illustration that was appropriate to the newly
specialised medical discipline <strong>of</strong> surgery.
In the newly formed medical faculties the collections <strong>of</strong> models in anatomy
departments were sometimes accumulated from previous private collections and
sources. This seems evident from the movement <strong>of</strong> models through the private
museums that included models from collections such as the surgeon <strong>An</strong>dré
Pierre Pinson’s work (1746 - 1828) 127 in France or even eighteenth century models
<strong>of</strong> Desnoues that were still in circulation in Britain as late as the early nineteenth
century. 128 As the number <strong>of</strong> anatomists grew due to the increasing number <strong>of</strong>
medical faculties, there was a greater demand for actual cadavers and the handson
experience <strong>of</strong> dissection. This slowed the demand for models within the
anatomy schools. 129 Models needed a new direction in the medical arena to be
useful to an advancing science. The need to show the healthy and ideal body was
outmoded as the driving imperative behind producing anatomical models.
Instead the wax models produced within this context in the later nineteenth
century turned towards showing specialised parts <strong>of</strong> the body and examples <strong>of</strong>
disease such as skin disorders in the form <strong>of</strong> moulages.
127 Pinson’s extensive collection <strong>of</strong> wax models, which were initially commissioned by the Duc d’Orléans,
were requisitioned after the Revolution and moved to the National Museum <strong>of</strong> Natural History and
eventually the anatomy gallery, after the Revolution Pinson became the first wax modeller for the Ecole de
Santé in Paris. Lemire, 1992, 289.
128 The models <strong>of</strong> Desnoues after touring Britain and Scotland a number <strong>of</strong> times were bought by Dr
Rackstaw’s <strong>An</strong>atomical Museum and exhibited in London before the University <strong>of</strong> Dublin purchased the
collection. Pilbeam, 2003, p. 5.
129 Lemire, 1992, p. 290.

Specific models <strong>of</strong> organs, or body parts such as the example at Melbourne
University <strong>of</strong> the bones and structure <strong>of</strong> the ear (Fig. 30) were created to provide
students with a three-dimensional example. As knowledge became more defined
the models were used more robustly for demonstrations rather than as
contemplative aids to memory. The scale <strong>of</strong> this model is larger than life, perhaps
for use during lectures, allowing students within the lecture theatre to see clearly
the parts that comprise this example. 130 The change <strong>of</strong> scale and the lack <strong>of</strong> tint
used for the parts <strong>of</strong> this model combined with the unexplained relationship <strong>of</strong>
this model to the rest <strong>of</strong> the body indicate a change in approach. There is a
departure from the earlier need for full body models to situate the position <strong>of</strong>
organs. This model was apparently, therefore, created to support areas <strong>of</strong> more
specialised learning.
The format <strong>of</strong> models and the style <strong>of</strong> illustrations were affected by the rise <strong>of</strong>
specialisation within the medical schools. As the medical schools became more
structured, specialisations arose out <strong>of</strong> the previous jumble <strong>of</strong> medical interests.
These specialities such as neurology, dermatology and embryology required
specific models that could address their areas <strong>of</strong> expertise. 131 The model’s body
was no longer required as a whole to replace the complete anatomy <strong>of</strong> a cadaver;
130 Haviland and Parish, 1970, p. 67.
131 Hopwood, 2004, p. 468.

instead each part <strong>of</strong> the body was treated as a separate area <strong>of</strong> study. Within the
field <strong>of</strong> embryology models continued to have a leading role as many <strong>of</strong> the
developing parts <strong>of</strong> the human body were best illustrated by three dimensional
models and difficult to understand in illustration. The nineteenth century model
company Zeigler produced many <strong>of</strong> the illustrations in the late 1880’s <strong>of</strong> the
developmental organs <strong>of</strong> the embryo, however the illustrations were taken not
from specimens but rather from models produced by the company. 132
Returning to the models in the Harry Brookes Allen Museum, it seems that
although Tramond was producing wax models at the end <strong>of</strong> the nineteenth
century, the company was still following some <strong>of</strong> the conventions established in
the previous century. The model <strong>of</strong> the infant (Fig. 1) is particularly reminiscent
<strong>of</strong> a similar model created in Bologna in 1760 (Fig. 31). The figure’s features are
carefully finished and the body is surrounded by a winding sheet that would
normally be used to wrap a body. We can see that there have been major
anatomical advances in the definition <strong>of</strong> the internal organs and the manner <strong>of</strong>
dissection <strong>of</strong> the Tramond model. The dissection illustrated is far more invasive
and informative than the eighteenth century example. Unlike the earlier model
the Tramond model has clearly positioned and coloured organs. These are
splayed outside <strong>of</strong> the cavity to display their relationship to each other. The ribs
have been cut away to demonstrate the position <strong>of</strong> the heart and main arteries.
132 On Zeigler and his anatomical model company ref. Nick Hopwood, 2004, pp. 177-197.

There is still, however, an aesthetic approach to the positioning <strong>of</strong> the body with
the umbilical cord delicately looping across the limbs <strong>of</strong> the model. Apparently
therefore, the Tramond model was created to explain the inner workings and
organs <strong>of</strong> an infant. On the other hand, the earlier figure appears to have been
created more for the purpose <strong>of</strong> looking at the relationship between the infant
and the placenta.
There seems little change between the eighteenth century and the late nineteenth
century in the treatment <strong>of</strong> the infant figures physical features; there is attention
to the detail <strong>of</strong> eyelashes, hair and facial features <strong>of</strong> both. The earlier Bologna
model has a more dynamic nature to it with the arms reaching away from the
body, and the head with its mouth open, twisting around to the side. This
suggests that the artist was concerned with inferring that this infant was animate
in much the same way as the Susini <strong>An</strong>atomical Venus (Fig. 13). However unlike
the female figures which were adorned and reflected renaissance art, or the
écorché models that used the poses <strong>of</strong> Greek statues, infants were possibly such a
delicate and difficult subject that there seemed little point in associating them
with any specific artistic interpretation <strong>of</strong> the figure. Therefore there is little
evidence <strong>of</strong> the use <strong>of</strong>, for example, the form <strong>of</strong> putti or angels to sanitise the
models. 133 The continuing production <strong>of</strong> the whole body model <strong>of</strong> the foetus into
133 The cabinet <strong>of</strong> Dr Frederick Ruysch is a possible exception in his macabre use <strong>of</strong> infant skeletons and
samples, however his anatomical figures were actual rather than wax models. ref. Hansen, 1996, pp. 663-
679.

the nineteenth century may be due in part to both its size and the relationship <strong>of</strong>
its organs that were <strong>of</strong> primary interest. A visually disturbing facet <strong>of</strong> the
Tramond model is the company’s name that is engraved into the left forearm. It is
as if the maker <strong>of</strong> this later model wanted to emphasise the artificial nature <strong>of</strong> the
work.
Two innovations occurred at the end <strong>of</strong> the nineteenth century that had a
pr<strong>of</strong>ound effect upon the production and form <strong>of</strong> wax anatomical models. The
first was the need to have models that could be handled and parts that were
removable. The model in the Harry Brookes Allen collection that corresponds to
these needs was probably produced in the 1890s (Fig. 31). It is a model <strong>of</strong> the side
<strong>of</strong> a man’s head and is constructed using both wax and plaster with removable
parts attached by coloured cotton strings. The presence <strong>of</strong> removable parts
indicates the more practical use <strong>of</strong> the model. The features are more approximate
and are partially obscured by the surrounding cloth. The model is scaled up to
nearly double life size allowing clear demonstration <strong>of</strong> the parts. These factors
contribute to the practical use <strong>of</strong> the model as a teaching tool. The second
innovation was the production <strong>of</strong> papier mache and plaster models that were
cheaper and easier to produce. These models were made predominantly in
France at the end <strong>of</strong> the nineteenth century. Although less lifelike they fulfilled
the more instructional needs <strong>of</strong> the medical fraternity. Added to this the models
began to move away from the use <strong>of</strong> realistic pallor, which had been so highly

valued in the eighteenth century. Instead garish unrealistic colours were used to
define the parts <strong>of</strong> the body.
By the end <strong>of</strong> the nineteenth century wax production and use <strong>of</strong> anatomical
models were in decline. Wax museums were seen as informative entertainment
but no longer included anatomical models in their repertoire. The older models
remained within hospital and university anatomical departments or museums or
were destroyed if the department had a surplus due to donated collections. 134
The move away from the imitation <strong>of</strong> reality was not only in reaction to the
redundant features and style <strong>of</strong> the previous century. The doctors and scientists
that required models were using them for specific purposes against a
background <strong>of</strong> advancing technology. The preservation <strong>of</strong> bodies using
refrigeration and the ability to preserve sections <strong>of</strong> the body in formaldehyde
effected the need for facsimiles. The advent <strong>of</strong> photography and the realisation <strong>of</strong>
its scientific uses such as the photographs <strong>of</strong> movement by Edward Muybridge
in 1877, challenged the usefulness and form <strong>of</strong> wax models. In 1895 Conrad
Rontgen produced the first x-ray in Warburg although at first considered a threat
to public decency, within a year Joseph Maria Eder and Eduard Valenta had
collaborated on fifteen photogravures <strong>of</strong> the human skeleton. 135 These advances
134 Haviland and Parish, 1970, pp. 73-74.
135 Kemp, 2000, p. 75.

in technology were embraced by science and utilised to describe the body in
greater detail.

Conclusion.
We can see from the early illustrations <strong>of</strong> anatomy in the sixteenth century by Jan
Stephen van Calcar and Leonardo da Vinci that both artists brought with them
conventions <strong>of</strong> illustration borrowed from the fields <strong>of</strong> painting, drawing,
architecture and engineering. Leonardo’s innovation <strong>of</strong> rotating the examples to
reveal different aspects anticipated the introduction <strong>of</strong> three-dimensional
examples in the form <strong>of</strong> wax figures. Later artists such as van Calcar, Wandelaar
and Gérard de Lairesse drew upon allegorical landscapes to introduce the viewer
to anatomy in a manner that was familiar to the seventeenth century audience.
The use <strong>of</strong> allegory associated with the body was equally reversed as anatomical
knowledge expanded and influenced our view <strong>of</strong> the world. These approaches
within illustration helped to pave the way for the production <strong>of</strong> wax anatomical
models that were similarly concerned with the larger issue <strong>of</strong> interpreting the
structure <strong>of</strong> the human body for a wider audience.
It is apparent that although anatomical models were initially created to overcome
the problems <strong>of</strong> decay associated with dissection, the use <strong>of</strong> artistic devices was
needed to make the figures both understandable and acceptable. The
involvement <strong>of</strong> artists such as Zumbo, Lelli and the Manzolini’s who had
previously worked as sculptors shaped the way that models were created and
the form that they took. All <strong>of</strong> these artists had a working knowledge <strong>of</strong>

anatomy, however they worked with anatomists to realise examples <strong>of</strong> the
human body that were made to be both accurate in the anatomy and yet able to
be seen as representations <strong>of</strong> living bodies.
The detailed attention to the wax anatomical figures produced in Bologna and
Florence in the eighteenth century established a mode <strong>of</strong> representation that
continued for the following century. The perceived audience was from a broad
cross section <strong>of</strong> interested patrons, general public and surgical students leading
to a more detailed and decorative approach to the external features <strong>of</strong> the
models. The form <strong>of</strong> the eighteenth century female anatomical model from La
Specola emulated the pose and appearance <strong>of</strong> Venus figures in popular paintings
<strong>of</strong> the Renaissance. The relationship to these works had a tw<strong>of</strong>old purpose, on
the one hand they epitomised an ideal form for the female figure while
referencing known art that was recognisable by an educated audience. The
corresponding investigation <strong>of</strong> the muscular system that was used by both art
and medicine was <strong>of</strong> a male figure and took as its form the poses <strong>of</strong> Greek heroic
sculpture. <strong>Art</strong>ists in the eighteenth century used both artistic and cultural
references to contextualise the three-dimensional illustration <strong>of</strong> anatomy as a
means to position the models, and more specifically the study <strong>of</strong> anatomy, within
the realm <strong>of</strong> higher learning.

The co-operation in the art schools <strong>of</strong> the nineteenth century between the
anatomists and artists instilled a greater understanding <strong>of</strong> the structure <strong>of</strong> the
body in artists while producing models for medicine that ennobled the newly
formalised discipline. The elevation <strong>of</strong> surgery to academic standing in the early
nineteenth century resulted in a shift in the portrayal <strong>of</strong> the body from an
artistically referential representation in medical texts and schools to a
diagrammatic form in the mid-nineteenth century that attempted to align
surgical knowledge with other sciences and disciplines such as engineering. In
Britain this shift corresponded with the wider debate concerning the
representation <strong>of</strong> the body in art. It is apparent that the exploration <strong>of</strong> the
parameters <strong>of</strong> this style resulted in the earlier form <strong>of</strong> wax anatomical models
being seen as anachronistic curiosities by both the artistic and the medical
fraternities.
The purely medical purpose that later models were created for has influenced the
perceived history <strong>of</strong> the anatomical model by divorcing its form from the earlier
embellished examples. However, the attempts to follow illustration into a
diagrammatic dissociated form still required the stylistic decisions to be made by
the artists that created the later models. Sometimes, as in the infant figure created
at the end <strong>of</strong> the nineteenth century, the stylistic considerations had not changed
radically over the intervening century, the differences were determined only by
advances in anatomical knowledge.

The models within the Harry Brookes Allen museum historicize both the large
number <strong>of</strong> anatomical models from different periods held in the collection as
much as the medical department itself. Much as models were promoted in the
nineteenth century by departments wanting to encourage students, the role <strong>of</strong>
the anatomical museum underscores the age and importance <strong>of</strong> the medical
school at the University <strong>of</strong> Melbourne. The main body <strong>of</strong> research associated
with anatomical models has been as a background to the history <strong>of</strong> surgical
medicine as an emerging discipline. This raises the question as to whether these
models should remain linked primarily to medical history or, as this study has
shown, they occupy a larger role in the context <strong>of</strong> art history.

List <strong>of</strong> Illustrations.
Fig. 1 Tramond Company, Wax <strong>An</strong>atomical Model <strong>of</strong> Infant, c1890, wax, Harry
Brookes Allen Museum. University <strong>of</strong> Melbourne. (Author.)
Fig. 2 Théodore Géricault, Raft <strong>of</strong> the Medusa, Louvre Museum, Paris, oil on
canvas, 491 x 716cm.
(http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/thumb/f/ff/Raft_<strong>of</strong>_the_Medusa
_-_Theodore_Gericault.JPG )
Fig.3 Ercole Lelli, <strong>An</strong>atomical statues in wax, 1742, wax, Institute <strong>of</strong> <strong>An</strong>atomy,
University <strong>of</strong> <strong>An</strong>atomy. (University <strong>of</strong> Bologna, n.p.)
Fig. 4 <strong>Art</strong>erial System, Late thirteenth century provencal MS (D. II.ii), Basel
University Library. (Choulant 1962, p.55)
Fig. 5 Leonardo da Vinci Proportional Study <strong>of</strong> a Man in the Manner <strong>of</strong> Vitruvius, c.
1492, pen and ink, Venice Academy, (Goldscheider, 1967, plate 30, n.p).
Fig. 6 <strong>An</strong>tonio Pollaiuolo Battle <strong>of</strong> the Ten Nudes, c. 1471, engraving, 38.3 x 59.5 cm
Cleveland Museum <strong>of</strong> <strong>Art</strong>, cat.no. 15, ( Ettlinger 1978, plate 72, n.p.)
Fig. 7 Leonardo da Vinci Studies <strong>of</strong> the anatomy <strong>of</strong> the shoulder and the foot, c. 1510,
pen and ink with wash over traces <strong>of</strong> black chalk on paper, 28.9 x 20.1 cm
Windsor Castle Library, RL19013 v.,. ( O’Malley and Saunders, 1952 p. 84)
Fig. 8 Jan Stephen van Calcar, First muscle tabula , woodcut, 35.0 x 21.0 cm in A.
Vesalius, De humani corporis fabrica, 1543, Cambridge University Library.
(Roberts and Tomlinson, 1992, p. 151)
Fig. 9 artist unknown Belvedere Torso, c. 1B.C, marble, Vatican Museum nr1192,
(www.phil.uni-erlangen.de/torso 2.jpg.)
Fig. 10 Jan Stephen van Calcar, Viscera <strong>of</strong> the body, woodcut, in A. Vesalius, De
humani corporis fabrica, 1543, Cambridge University Library, (Roberts and
Tomlinson, 1992, p. 139)
Fig. 11 Gaetano Zumbo, The Plague, 1691-4, wax, La Specola Museum <strong>of</strong> Natural
History <strong>of</strong> the University <strong>of</strong> Florence, (Kemp and Wallace 2000, p.52)
Fig. 12 Nicholas Poussin, The Plague <strong>of</strong> Ashdod, 1630, 148 x198 cm oil on canvas
Louvre Museum, Paris, (http://www.wga.hu/framese.html?/html/p/poussin/1/09plague.html)

Fig. 13 Clemente Susini Reclining female figure, wax, ‘La Specola’ Museum <strong>of</strong>
Natural History <strong>of</strong> the University <strong>of</strong> Florence, (Kemp and Wallace 2000, p.32)
Fig. 14 Jan Stephen van Calcar Second skeleton , woodcut, in A. Vesalius, De
humani corporis fabrica, 1543, Cambridge University Library (Singer 1925, p. 191)
Fig. 15 Gerard de Lairesse, Skeleton with hourglass, 1685, engraving, in Bidloo’s
<strong>An</strong>atomica humani corporis, Amstelodami, Cambridge University Library,
(Choulant 1945, p. 251)
Fig. 16 Gerard de Lairesse, Skeleton emerges from the grave, 1685, engraving, in
Bidloo’s <strong>An</strong>atomica humani corporis, Amstelodami, Cambridge University Library,
(Roberts and Tomlinson, 1992, p. 83)
Fig 17 Jan Wanderlaar, Tabula IV, 1747, in Albinus’ Tabulae Sceleti et musculorum
corporis humani, engraving, private collection, (Roberts and Tomlinson, 1992, p.
331)
Fig. 18 <strong>An</strong>dré Pinson, <strong>An</strong>atomy <strong>of</strong> a seated woman, late eighteenth century, wax, 40
x 25 x 30 cm, Museum <strong>of</strong> Natural History, Paris, (Kemp and Wallace, 2000.p.57)
Fig. 19 <strong>Art</strong>ist unknown, <strong>An</strong>atomical Female figure, eighteenth century, wax.
Wellcome Library London, on loan to Science Museum London. (Yarrington,
1996, p. 91)
Fig. 20 Titian, Venus <strong>of</strong> Urbino, 1538, oil on canvas, 112.5 x 77.9 cm, Uffizi Gallery,
Florence, (Pignatti, 1971, p. 77)
Fig. 21 Giorgione, Venus Asleep, c.1510, Gemaeldegallerie, Dresden, oil on canvas,
108 x 175 cm ( Pignatti, 1971, p. 103)
Fig. 22 Titian, Danae receives the golden rain, 1553, Prado Museum Madrid, oil on
canvas, 19.2 x 11.2 cm (http://www.spanisharts.com/prado/titian.htm)
Fig. 23 Bernini, The ecstacy <strong>of</strong> St Theresa, 1647-52, Cappella Cornaro, Santa Maria
della Vittoria, Rome, marble, height 350 cm,
(http://www.kfki.hu/~/arthp/html/b/bernini/gianlore/sculptur/1640/theres
e1.html)
Fig. 24 <strong>Art</strong>ist unknown Apollo Belvedere, Pio Clementino Museum, Rome, marble,
height 22.4 cm
( http://www.artchive.com/artchive/G/greek/belvedere_apollo.jpg.html )

Fig. 25 Jean-<strong>An</strong>toine Houdon Ecorché <strong>of</strong> a Standing Man, 1792, Ecole Nationale
Supérieuse des Beaux-<strong>Art</strong>s, Départment de Morphologie MU11974, bronze,
height 20.3 cm (Kemp and Wallace, 2000 p. 82.)
Fig. 26 Jan Stephen van Calcar Second muscle tabula from A. Vesalius, De humani
corporis fabrica, 1543, Cambridge University Library, woodcut, (Singer 1925, p.
194)
Fig. 27 <strong>Art</strong>ist unknown, The Penny Magazine, January 12, 1833. engraving.
(<strong>An</strong>derson, 1991, p. 59.)
Fig. 27a Elsbeth Stoiber, Moulage 1956, Museum <strong>of</strong> Medical Moulages, University
Hospital and University <strong>of</strong> Zurich. ( Schnalke, 2004, p. 208.)
Fig. 28 Tramond Company, Model <strong>of</strong> the temporal bone, c1890, wax and plaster,
75.0 x16.0 x 14.0 cm Harry Brookes Allen Museum, University <strong>of</strong> Melbourne.
(Author.)
Fig. 29 John Gibson, Tinted Venus, c.1851 – 56, marble, painted, height 175 cm
Walker <strong>Art</strong> Gallery, Liverpool, (Bluhm, 1996, p. 123.)
Fig. 30 Henry Vandyke Carter Nerves <strong>of</strong> the Orbit – Seen from above Fig. 252., 1858,
wood engraving, 11.0 x 7.0 cm, from Henry Gray’s <strong>An</strong>atomy Descriptive and
surgical 1858. Cambridge University Library. ( Roberts and Tomlinson p. 588)
Fig. 31 Tramond Company, Model <strong>of</strong> the bones and structure <strong>of</strong> the ear, c.1890, wax,
Plaster and mixed media Harry Brookes Allen Museum, University <strong>of</strong>
Melbourne, 38 x 25 x 17 cm. ( Author)
Fig. 32. The Tosselli brothers, Model <strong>of</strong> two fetuses, eighteenth century, Museo
Ostetrico G.A.Galli, Pallazzo Poggi, University <strong>of</strong> Bologna. (University <strong>of</strong>
Bologna, 1998, n.p)
Fig 33. Tramond Company, Enlarged wax representation <strong>of</strong> the ear canal. c.1890,
wax, supported by a plaster and timber, support.approx. 21 cm diameter. 21 cm
high x 20 cm wide, Harry Brookes Allen Museum, University <strong>of</strong> Melbourne.
(Author.)
Fig 34. Tramond Company, Mid-section cranial model. c. 1890,This model shows
skin flapped away at the back and half facial features. 23 cm x 30 cm x 15 cm.
Harry Brookes Allen Museum, University <strong>of</strong> Melbourne. (Author.)

Fig 35. Tramond Company, External carotid artery – model. c.1890,<strong>Art</strong>eries are
painted red whilst the veins are painted blue. stand 12.7 cm x 8.4 cm. Model
120mm high x 100 mm x 90 mm. Harry Brookes Allen Museum. University <strong>of</strong>
Melbourne. (Author.)
Fig 36. Tramond Company, Exposed nerves and skull ( infant?), c. 1890, wax
eyeball, real skull and teeth approx. 5.0 cm high x 3.2 cm x 26 cm Harry Brookes
Allen Museum, University <strong>of</strong> Melbourne. (Author.)
Fig 37. Tramond Company, Exposed tendons, muscles and veins <strong>of</strong> the right hand.
Cut <strong>of</strong>f at the wrist, the wax modelling <strong>of</strong> tissue seems to have actual human
bone as the armature. approx 210 mm x 110 mm Harry Brookes Allen Museum.
University <strong>of</strong> Melbourne. (Author.)

Appendix.
The Tramond Company in Paris produced the models that are in the Harry Brookes Allen
Museum, in the late nineteenth century. The company no longer exists but appears to
have published catalogues <strong>of</strong> work that were sold to institutions around the world. Some
<strong>of</strong> these anatomical models still exist in other collections, most notably in the anatomical
museum in Montpellier, the Orfila museum in Paris and in Philadelphia.
The following is a description <strong>of</strong> the models that are part <strong>of</strong> the collection at Melbourne
University. All measurements are in mm.
Fig. 1.
1. Infant model with abdominal cavity laid open to show umbilical arteries and veins
including placenta. Highly coloured internal organs and veins. Realistic facial
features, nominal other features such as fingernails and toes. Figure is laid on a
cloth on wooden base with routed feature around base suggesting a previous glass
lid may have existed. Heart is semi-dissected showing main arteries and valves.
Hair is painted on however the eyelashes are <strong>of</strong> hair. Vital organs have been
splayed out to show main internal arteries. Marking on arm ‘TRAMOND á Paris.’
Oval sticker on white cotton fabric on left hand side.
Measurements: approx. Stand 750 mm x 400 mm. Figure 600 mm x 300 mm.
2. Fig 27. Temporal bone – showing path <strong>of</strong> arteries in painted blue- small very pink
wax ear canal bolted to metal stand and reinforced inside with wire.
Measurements: approx. 750mm high x 160mm x 140 mm.
3. Fig 30. Model <strong>of</strong> bones and structure <strong>of</strong> the ear – side <strong>of</strong> man’s head with ear held
forward by crude metallic clip showing bones behind the ear. Removable pieces
<strong>of</strong> bone attached by strings (one missing). Hair as though sheared back. Facial
features obscured by surrounding cloth. Hint <strong>of</strong> painted on eyebrow, and
speckling for shaved area and beard. Numbered on bottom right hand side.

Tramond mark on metal oval plaque bottom left <strong>of</strong> stand. Right side peeling paper
“…lage sure nature de la trepanati… et des l’evident petro-ma… après une
preparation du D…” On back complete paper rectangular sticker ‘Moulage sur
nature de la trepanation mastoidienne et de l’evident petro- mastoidien d’aprés
une preparation du Dr G. Maliu’ Material affixed by pins into wood. Model held
by concealed wire through to back.
Measurements: 350 mm high x 280 mm wide x 170 mm deep.
4. Fig 33. Enlarged wax representation <strong>of</strong> the ear canal. Supported by a plaster and
timber support. Plaque on base reads “ Mon. TRAMOND Preparateur et
formisseur des Facultés <strong>An</strong>atomie Histoire Naturelle. 9 Rue de l’ecole de
Medecine.” Model also marked in black engraved handwritten lettering upon
model “ TRAMOND a Paris”. Removable wax cover to inner bones and veins,
which are attached by wire. Wax is very yellow in colour. Veins are clearly
coloured blue whilst the arteries are coloured red. The colour appears to be under
a layer <strong>of</strong> wax. The stand is circular turned wood.
Measurements: approx. 210 mm diameter. 210 mm high x 200 mm wide.
5. Fig 34. Mid section cranial model. This model shows skin flapped away at the
back and half facial features. Eyelashes are made <strong>of</strong> hair however the eyebrows
are painted on. Central cortex and spine, tongue muscle and arteries are the main
focus <strong>of</strong> this model. Rough hair is placed at back <strong>of</strong> head to lend some realism to
the appearance <strong>of</strong> dissection <strong>of</strong> skin away from the scalp. The model has a
TRAMOND oval paper sticker on the right external temple. It has an engraved
handwritten mark on exposed skull at the rear in black handwritten engraving.”
TRAMOND á Paris”.
Measurements: approx. 230 mm x 300 mm x 150 mm.
6. Fig 35. External carotid artery – model. <strong>Art</strong>eries are painted red whilst the veins
are painted blue. There are no recognisable external features. Wax has been used
around actual skeleton. Black painted rectangular stand – roughly painted and cut,

suggesting that it is a replacement for a previous stand. Oval sticker - “ Pte. <strong>An</strong>d
Fle. Des Facultés <strong>An</strong>atomie histoire Naturelle PARIS, 9 Rue de l’école de
Médicine. Also on actual model - in black handwritten engraving.” TRAMOND a
Paris”.
Measurements: stand 127 mm x 84 mm. Model 120mm high x 100 mm x 90 mm.
7. Fig 36. Exposed nerves and skull ( infant?) – wax eyeball, real skull and teeth –
model shows connection <strong>of</strong> wax nerves and s<strong>of</strong>t tissue around the gums. No stand.
TRAMOND a Paris etched into skull bone. Skull has been bisected and the main
cranium section removed. Sticker on inside <strong>of</strong> cranium. Eye blue.
Measurements: approx. 50mm high x 320 mm x 260 mm
8. Fig 37.Exposed tendons, muscles and veins <strong>of</strong> the right hand. Cut <strong>of</strong>f at the wrist,
the wax modelling <strong>of</strong> tissue seems to have actual human bone as the armature.
The stand is missing and there is no maker’s mark. However the similarity <strong>of</strong>
style and age would indicate that this model was part <strong>of</strong> the same collection from
the ‘Tramond’ company.
Measurements: approx 210 mm x 110 mm

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Acknowledgements.
I would like to thank Rita Hardiman the curator at the Harry Brookes Allen
Museum at Melbourne University for allowing me access to the wax anatomical
models in the collection, also Helen Arnoldi, Student projects co-ordinator for
cultural collections for her encouragement to explore this topic.
My thanks also to the many patient readers <strong>of</strong> drafts, particularly my supervisor
David Marshall, my husband Bruno Charlesworth, Lisa Dethridge, and Max
Charlesworth.
I would finally like to thank my children, Felix, Ondine and Tarquin for their
patience and understanding during the months <strong>of</strong> research and writing.