‘Well, hello machine’: Timecoding audio in the Germaine Greer Archive

by Kate Hodgetts, Audio Cataloguer

Imagine that you are a passenger in a car. The car is being driven through the British countryside. Your driver, Germaine Greer, tells you that this is her ‘Favourite road in all the world,’ and proceeds to describe the landscape in vivid, colourful detail. ‘It’s sort of dull and burnished, and rich as can be, all covered with this sort of Rembrandt brown varnish’… ‘The sky is a kind of lilac grey, quite luminous. But the land is sucking in the light.’

Later, that same voice whispers observations of life and death and you are transported to a refugee camp in Ethiopia during the famine of 1984–1985.

From here, who knows where…?

Greer's audio paraphernalia and map. Photograph: Nathan Gallagher
Germaine Greer’s audio paraphernalia and map Photograph: Nathan Gallagher

The audio series in the Germaine Greer Archive is richly diverse and invites listeners to enter into intimate, domestic moments in Greer’s life. From walking her beloved poodles Molly and Margot through the Essex country side to travelling across the Nullarbor aboard the Indian Pacific Rail Service, Greer has carried her trusty voice recorder. Sometimes she reports on what she has seen, thought, or experienced; other times she simply documents her days.

The University of Melbourne Archives (UMA) acquired the personal and professional archive of author and academic Germaine Greer in 2014. It now occupies 80 metres of shelf space in the repository. Part of this archive is 150 hours of audio recordings.

A few of the recordings are on digital audio tapes and mini discs but most are on cassette and were recorded, by Greer, directly to her voice recorder. The series (2014.0040) dates from as early as 1971, and contains diaries and travelogues, recorded in the UK, Australia, Poland, Cuba, Ethiopia and elsewhere; and interviews, lectures and radio appearances. The series includes three interviews that Greer conducted in Italian with Primo Levi (1985), Federico Fellini (1988) and Luciano Pavarotti (1991). UMA Archivist Sebastian Gurciullo has time-coded these conversations, in English and Italian. The publications that resulted from these conversations are listed in the print series (2014.0046).

Audio cassette tapes, Greer collection. Photograph: Nathan Gallagher
Audio cassette tapes, Germaine Greer collection Photograph: Nathan Gallagher

Archivists are listening to digitised versions of the recordings. University Archivist Katrina Dean had the records digitised in the United Kingdom in 2014. The creation of both preservation masters and access duplicates meant that audio files could be remastered in order to improve sound quality and accessibility without altering the original recording.

The Greer Archive also contains some home movies and these records have also been digitised. The Greer material was included in Audiovisual Archivist Emma Hyde’s audit of the UMA audiovisual collection.

 

In early 2016, Assistant Archivist Millie Weber developed time-coding procedures and UMA Archivists coded a pilot selection of Greer’s recordings, including a telephone machine answering tape from 1976.

Since July, I have been working full time on cataloguing the 150 hours of material. It’s the first time that audio material has been documented so thoroughly at UMA and much of the work undertaken within the Greer Archive will eventually be adapted to document other collections.

Like transcripts, time-coded summaries work as a finding tool to search through content, enabling researchers to quickly determine whether a recording is relevant to their work. They describe short segments of audio, providing a quick guide to themes and topics discussed within the recording. The short summaries are kept succinct and direct and keywords are included to highlight potential topics of interest that may not be explicitly explained in the description.

The team working on the Greer Archive are developing a thesaurus of subject headings. Some are Library of Congress Subject Headings and others, such as the titles of Greer’s many books, are specific to this collection.

Greer and Warhol's Monroe
In the Work section of The Female Eunuch, Greer writes: “It still comes as a surprise to most people to learn that Marilyn Monroe was a great actress, most pitifully to Marilyn herself, which is one of the reasons why she is dead.” Picture: Terence Spencer/The LIFE Picture Collection/Getty Images.

The uniqueness of the audio series within the Greer Archive and the inclusion of Greer’s audio diaries have meant that these succinct and direct summaries are humanised, and often humorous, inspiring, controversial, and colourful. Even the more formal formats of lectures and interviews hint at the character more dramatically exposed in the audio diaries.

Listening to these recordings through head phones is a privileged experience. Most of the recordings were captured by Greer with her own voice and with her own fingers pressing record, then pause, and then record again. Though digitised copies, the original aesthetic of the hand held recordings remain. Greer often wrestles with the voice recorder in an attempt to get it to capture what she wants, like the sound of the raging sea off the coast of Western Australia. ‘Can you hear the sea?’ she asks. ‘I don’t think you can hear the sea because when I am not talking to you, you turn yourself off.’ Having the recorder set to voice activation means that the sound of the crashing waves is fragmented and juxtaposed with Greer’s voice. The result is spontaneous and poetic.

Kate Hodgetts: Timecoding Greer audio
Kate Hodgetts: Timecoding Germaine Greer audio.

Listening through the Greer audio we are invited to travel through the everyday with Greer, sitting in on lectures, conversations, and car trips, and through these recordings we are able to gain a greater understanding of her life and work. While significant, unique and rich with research potential, until preserved and digitised by UMA all of these recordings were contained within old audio cassettes, not far from their life expectancy (which is up to 30 years). The significance and uniqueness of this collection highlights the urgency of preservation plans within audiovisual collections. For without proper documentation, preservation and digitisation these materials may have been, in the words of Greer, fumbling with her recorder, ‘lost to posterity.’

The audio series is still being catalogued and processed along with the rest of the collection. The archive will be open to researchers from 27 March 2017. I will be one of the speakers at the ‘Meet the Greer Archivist’ event to be held on International Women’s Day, 8 March 2017.

 

For more information on the Germaine Greer collection, archive project and online resources please visit the Germaine Greer collection webiste

October 27 celebrates World Day for Audiovisual Heritage.  Dedicated by UNESCO, the day aims to increase awareness of the importance of audiovisual materials and to highlight the urgent need for preservation and digitisation. “It’s your story – don’t lose it ” is the theme of this year’s celebration. 

Revolutionary printing: money!

In 2016 we celebrate 50 years of decimal currency and innovations in paper money such as the next generation five dollar note. In Australia before the unifying advent of Federation which occurred in 1901, currency was a more chaotic affair. Banknotes represent a nation’s economic stability and during times of war and upheaval, these crises are likewise reflected in the currency. To show both students of printmaking and financial studies, the rich links between printing and economic history, the Baillieu Library Print Collection has acquired three engraved banknotes.

French Revolution banknotes

A variety of currency which arose and fell with the French Revolution was the assignat which were only printed between 1789 and 1795. Rather than having a value assigned to silver or gold, this engraved note was instead assigned to a value of land and was interest bearing. The Domaines Nationaux (1789-93) was an organisation established from the sale of the church lands, land which became the financial basis for assignats. Controlled by the National Assembly it was responsible for printing assignats and for their circulation in France. Louis XVI is featured on the note, and would remain there until his deposition when his portrait was replaced by the cap of liberty. The acquired note also features the signature of Camberlain, a representative for La Caisse de l’Extraordinaire, a department formed to issue assignats and combat their forgery.

Assignat

Forgery

A British government sanctioned scheme saw economic warfare unleashed when British artists and other individuals flooded the French economy with forged assignats. These forged notes were intended to further ruin the financial stability of the French nation.[1] By 1795 an assignat was virtually worthless and they were withdrawn from use.

The British authorities showed no leniency towards its own citizens who forged the nation’s currency, however. To be found in possession of a forged banknote was a crime punishable by hanging. Forgery was not always an act of war; it was most often the crime of destitute men, women and children. In 1819 the artist George Cruikshank (1792-1878) was so disturbed by the sight of the hanged forgers wreathing the walls of Newgate prison, that he designed what is commonly referred to as the hanging note . [2] This note was influential in drawing attention to the overly harsh punishment which brought about reform and the lesser punishment for forgery offences: deportation to the penal colony of Australia.

Australian Pre-Federation banknotes

Many of the convicts sent to Australia were forgers, such as Joseph Lycett (born c. 1794). Lycett produced important colonial works of art including the book Views in Australia (1825) which is a highlight of the Rare Books collection.[3] However, he was also forging colonial banknotes: ‘unfortunately for the world as well as himself [Lycett] had obtained sufficient knowledge of the graphic art to aid him in the practice of deception, in which he has outdone most of his predecessors’.[4] Due to a shortage of British coins, a system of promissory notes, (which functioned somewhat like a cheque) was being used in the colony.  Given that the history of banknote production and that of forgery occur concurrently, printing had to evolve, and so banknotes feature very sophisticated artistry and printing techniques.

Unlike present day Australian banknotes which are a uniform set carefully overseen by the Reserve Bank of Australia, before Federation any bank could issue paper currency and all of the states colonies were printing their own notes. Not surprisingly this cornucopia of paper money was an inefficient system.

Lycett, like many other forgers, was using a copper plate to produce clever imitations. As the uncirculated Bank of Australasia five pound note states in the inscription by the lower margin, it was produced with a patent hardened steel plate by Perkins, Bacon & Co. Jacob Perkins (1766-1849) pioneered new printing innovations including one he called ‘siderography’ which is to engrave on steel. This method enabled thousands of identical complex designs to be printed from a superior metal plate and was extremely difficult to copy. Engraving on steel would be one of the products born of the Industrial Revolution.[5]

Five pounds

A great leap in the complexity and visual appeal is evident in the Bank of Victoria one pound colour trial specimen, which depicts that colony’s namesake: Queen Victoria. Several artists and equipment would have been utilised to produce this sophisticated banknote. Unlike the previous two notes, this specimen is printed on both sides, an innovation which thwarted many forgers. The verso shows a guilloche, or an intricate repeated design which is produced by a lathe. A tool called a stump engraver would have been used to print the word ‘one pound’ repeatedly. These features, together with the use of multiple colour plates form an almost impenetrable security system.

Colour trial specimen

Verso colour trail specimen

By the 1890s in Australia, approximately 64 banks were trading before a crisis in 1893 which saw many of them close. By 1910 British pounds were no longer the nation’s currency and promissory notes were not legal tender.

Kerrianne Stone (Curator, Prints)

References

[1] Peter Bower, ‘Economic warfare: banknote forgery as a deliberate weapon’ in The banker’s art: studies in paper money edited by Virginia Hewitt. London: British Museum, 1995, pp.46-64

[2] The story of paper money by Yash Beresiner and Colin Narbeth, Wren publishing Melbourne, 1973, pp 23-26

[3] Joseph Lycett, Views in Australia, or, New South Wales & Van Diemen’s Land delineated: in fifty views with descriptive letter press, London: J. Souter, 1824-[1825]

[4] From the Sydney Gazette 1815 quoted in Printed images in colonial Australia 1801-1901 by Roger Butler, Canberra : National Gallery of Australia, c2007, p. 51

[5] See Gary W. Granzow, Line engraved security printing: the methods of Perkins Bacon ,1790-1935; banknotes and postage stamps, London: Royal Philatelic Society London, 2012

Zodiac Man: a time capsule of weather prophecies, health predictions and popular culture in a 1616 almanac

Library catalogue entry: http://cat.lib.unimelb.edu.au/record=b2889861

If the mobile phone has become the essential life accessory of the 21st century, the almanac can be considered the indispensable accoutrement of the early modern period, reaching an apex of popular appeal in a ‘golden age’ of the 1640s.  These annual calendars, which were published prolifically from late medieval times to the 18th century, provided cosmic guidance on the events of the year ahead – how to act, make decisions, cure diseases, solve misfortunes – according to the most propitious alignments of the heavens.

The moon’s aspect in relation to the major planets, for instance, would influence which days were best for hiring servants, beginning journeys and seeking the love of women, whilst others were fortuitous for repairing houses, putting on new clothes and conversing with old men. In an age where death and disaster were an everyday feature of life, to be without an almanac to supply forward navigation through the year could put you at risk of unseen misfortunes and potential catastrophes.  What better to have forewarning at the year’s outset, so that you could prepare for and steer a course around impending calamities.

Library catalogue entry: http://cat.lib.unimelb.edu.au/record=b2889861A fiercely competitive publishing market developed for both general and specialist almanacs, the former printed for an avid reading public and the latter for targeted audiences such as farmers, sailors, clergymen and for particular regional areas. Mainly produced as small pocket-sized booklets which could be carried and stored for ready consultation whether at home or on the road, almanacs were also issued as wall charts in sheet form.  To minimise production costs and maximise profits, predictions and remedies contained in almanacs were necessarily short and to the point, and information was presented without detailed explanation.

An early almanac in the Rare Books Collection, A concordancy for the yeares (1616) explaining ‘the infortunate and fatall dayes of the yeare, as also of the good and happy dayes’ was written by a respected Hertfordshire astrologer Arthur Hopcroft (1588?-1614).[i]  Part astronomy, part astrology, the predictions contained in almanacs reflected a world view in which cosmology and the physical universe were harmoniously intertwined and with divinity and the workings of God.

Close reading of this pocket-sized handbook provides a fascinating encounter with a mini 400 year old time capsule, evoking the thoughts and preoccupations of the period in which it was produced. Hopcroft’s astrological calendar for October 1616 portends that the 5th will prove unhappy but the 3rd, 16th, 24th would be ‘not to bad’.  By far the most perilous month of the year would be January with eight unfortunate days and no happy ones.  Actions to be avoided on unhappy days included the beginning of ‘wordly affairs, giving birth, or being bled’.

Zodiac Man

An essential element in popular almanacs was the Zodiac Man, who was pictured prominently with the 12 astrological signs around him, each governing a different body region. Inhabitants of the early modern world had a heightened awareness of the relationship between celestial bodies and the human form.  Ill-favoured planetary alignments would result in illnesses in certain regions of the anatomy, as well as provoking calamitous events such as plagues and other natural disasters.

Library catalogue entry: http://cat.lib.unimelb.edu.au/record=b2889861

The relative positions of the celestial bodies when a patient first became ill were very important in diagnosis and treatment – often given more weight than actual symptoms – and the Zodiac Man helped explain and reinforce the most propitious remedies. A poem from a contemporary almanac explains the powers of each sign:

[Aries] The Ramme doth rule the head and face:

[Taurus] The Necke and Throat is Taurus’s place.

[Gemini] The Twinnes the Armes and Shoulders guide:

[Cancer] The Crab the Breast, the Spleene and side.

[Aquarius] The legges T’Aquarius doth fall:

[Pisces] And Feete to Pisces last of all.

[Leo] The Heart and Back’s hold Leo’s share:

[Virgo] Of Belly and Bowels the maid takes care.

[Libra] To Libra Reines and Loynes belong:

[Scorpio] The Secrets to the Scorpion.

[Sagittarius] The thighs the Archer doth direct:

[Capricorn] And Capricorne the knees protect.[ii]

The region of the knees were at most risk in January when Capricorn was dominant in the skies, whilst persons born under the sign of Aries were more prone to diseases of the head and face ‘such as head-aches, tooth-aches, migraines, pimples and small pox’.[iii]

Gradually as new scientific knowledge increased and faith in old beliefs lost their sway over the shared imagination, parodies of some of the more outlandish forecasts of almanacs began to appear. The Owles Almanack of 1618 predicted drolly that ‘the best time to fell timber was when one needed a good fire, and to cut hair when it is too long’, listed amusing sinners days as well as saints days, and included witty chronologies ‘commemorating the farmer who tried to teach his cow rope-dancing, and the gentleman who bought a periwig for his magpie’.[iv]  Later in the century after dining out on Friday 14th June 1667, Samuel Pepys recorded in his diary ‘thence we read and laughed at Lilly’s prophecies this month, in his Almanack this year!’

Despite Hopcroft’s own respected astrological credentials, he himself was to meet an untimely demise in his 26th year in the London parish of St Dunstan’s.  Although the circumstances of his death remain unrecorded, we can only hope that he was able to find amelioration and guidance from the predictions he made in his concordances.

Library catalogue entry: http://cat.lib.unimelb.edu.au/record=b2889861Library catalogue entry: http://cat.lib.unimelb.edu.au/record=b2889861

Susan Thomas, Rare Books Curator

Bibliography and further reading:

Hopcroft, Arthur. A concordancy of yeares: containing a new, easie, and most exact computation of time, according to the English account. Also the vse of the English and Roman kalender, with briefe notes, rules, and tables, as well mathematicall and legal, as vulgar, for each priuate mans occasion. Newly composed, digested and augmented by Arthur Hopton, gentleman. [London] : Printed [by Nicholas Okes] for the Company of Stationers, 1616.

Bertelsen, Lance. ‘Popular entertainment and instruction, literary and dramatic : chapbooks, advice books, almanacs, ballads, farces, pantomimes, prints and shows’ in John Richetti (ed.) The Cambridge history of English literature, 1660-1780. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005.

Capp, B. S. (Bernard S.) Astrology and the popular press: English almanacs, 1500-1800. London : Faber, 1979.

Curth, Louise Hill. English almanacs, astrology and popular medicine : 1550-1700. Manchester : Manchester University Press, 2007.

Endnotes

[i] Hopcroft, Arthur. A concordancy of yeares… [London] : Printed [by Nicholas Okes] for the Company of Stationers, 1616.

[ii] Curth, Louise Hill. English almanacs, astrology and popular medicine : 1550-1700. p.121

[iii] Op cit, p.123

[iv] Capp, B. S. Astrology and the popular press: English almanacs, 1500-1800, p. 251

 

 

We’re Not Nice Old Ladies: Records of the Alma Unit for Women and Ageing

by Susan Feldman – Adjunct Associate Professor, Monash University.

University of Melbourne Archives recently acquired records relating to the establishment, work and achievements of the Alma Unit for Women and Ageing  a ground-breaking scholarly endeavour at the University of Melbourne that sought to shed new light on the connections between gender, ageing, health and wellbeing.

The Alma Unit was named after the mother of Fleur Spitzer OAM. In 1989, Fleur used her inheritance to embark upon a series of philanthropic ventures. Her particular interest and concern was to support women and girls in the community in areas of social justice. Fleur was committed to what she has called focused giving or progressive philanthropy. As she became more familiar with the ways of the philanthropic world, Fleur was increasingly frustrated. As a conservative city Melbourne is a place where people traditionally thought it impolite and indecent to speak about having money. Fleur showed her determination and courage by going against the established trend, talking about philanthropy in a range of public forums. Fleur has spoken publicly about her approach to philanthropic giving, explaining that she ‘would like women to see philanthropy as a way of supporting something that they believe in’. She was also keen to encourage other women to introduce their daughters to the value and importance of philanthropy. This she believes can be achieved by acknowledging generational change coupled with providing younger women with the opportunity to build on the great work of previous generations of women who have seen themselves as change makers.

However, Fleur has always had a realistic view about how money can impact on the quality of opportunity and choice in people’s lives. Leading by example is how Fleur conducted all her public activities. She worked tirelessly to encourage her peers and women in her own networks to follow her example and consider how sharing their wealth is much more than getting tax breaks or having a plaque on a building erected in your name.

Fleur was just 60 years old when she became acutely aware of how growing older was seen as a problem, most particularly for women. She was concerned about current thinking that has produced a dread of growing old and a denial of what is happening. For the most part, ageing has been constructed as a time when individuals become a burden to family, community and society.

Drawing on her experiences in the women’s movement Fleur understood very well the damage and danger of stereotyping women and she recognised that the negative images of older women in our society were very similar to those of women in general.

She wondered why feminists had not taken up the issue of older women, why they were ignored within the feminist rhetoric, and why gender was absent and did not seem to matter in discussions of or research about growing older.

The timing was perfect. It coincided with the release of Betty Friedan’s latest book in 1993, The Fountain of Age.[1] The publication of this book provided Fleur with the inspiration and impetus to ask the hard questions and challenge popular beliefs and stereotypes about women, only this time around, in regard to older women.

Fleur set about talking to policy makers, gerontologists, academics and even tackled government ministers on why they had not given thought to the health and wellbeing of older women beyond aged care settings. At every opportunity Fleur asked why gender had been neglected in their discussions about growing older. She challenged the status quo by asking whether a gendered view of ageing mattered or not.

The establishment of the Alma Unit for Women and Ageing in 1993 at the University of Melbourne gave Fleur the opportunity to make her most significant public philanthropic donation, the naming of which honoured her mother Alma. Professor Lorraine Dennerstein, Director of the Key Centre for Women’s Health, University of Melbourne, appreciated Fleur’s generous financial offer, and the opportunity it provided the centre to champion the development of a unique and much-neglected area of research and study, both in Australia and internationally.

American feminist and writer Betty Friedan (left) with Fleur Spitzer (centre) and Dr Lorraine Dennerstein, Director of the Key Centre of Women's Health (right) at the opening of the Alma Unit for Women and Ageing in March, 1994. Alma Unit for Women and Ageing Archive, 2016.0037, University of Melbourne Archives.
American feminist and writer Betty Friedan (left) with Fleur Spitzer (centre) and Dr Lorraine Dennerstein, Director of the Key Centre of Women’s Health (right) at the opening of the Alma Unit for Women and Ageing in March, 1994. Alma Unit for Women and Ageing Archive, 2016.0037, University of Melbourne Archives.

In a bold letter to New York publishing house Simon and Schuster written in 1993, Fleur explained, ‘I read “The Fountain of Age” eagerly, because it endorses everything the Alma Research Unit hopes to achieve.’[2] And indeed, who could have been a better choice than Betty Friedan to announce the official launch of the unit in 1994? During the launch, Fleur explained how ‘banded and bonded together with other like-minded women’[3] in the women’s movement to understand the reality of women’s lives and to dispel myths and stereotypes. Now, she would once again be prepared to work actively to promote the reality about all aspects of women’s experiences of growing older.

The unit was the first of its kind in Australia, and indeed the world, with a focus on the quality of the ageing experience for older women. By taking a broad psychosocial approach to ageing, and in recognition that gender does matter, the research undertaken by the Alma Unit was innovative and ground breaking with relevance to the broader community, policy makers and service deliverers, as well as for academic research, teaching and the student community.

Over the following years academic staff at the Alma Unit provided substantial input into academic and community knowledge, publications, teaching and research as well as public forums, exhibitions and conferences about the ageing experience for women from a diverse range of social and cultural backgrounds. Staff at the Key Centre were involved in teaching of international students through a successful series of short courses on women’s health. The contributions of the staff of the Alma Unit to these courses focused on older women’s health and wellbeing.

The collection of documents now held at University of Melbourne Archives contains materials documenting the thinking behind and the negotiations for the establishment of this innovative unit at the University of Melbourne. Papers include many of Fleur Spitzer’s public speeches, strategic planning and evaluation of the progress of the unit. In addition, the archive includes minutes of meetings, financial papers and budgets, and correspondence between Fleur Spitzer and the university.

Newsletters reporting on visiting academics, research undertakings, conference presentations and media interviews and programs are also included in this archive, alongside documents relating to the launch of key publications, and the curriculum for international students interested in older women’s health and wellbeing.

The archive provides an interesting and informative insight into how a philanthropist provided the financial and intellectual resources for the establishment of an influential and unique research and teaching unit that has made a significant contribution to understanding older women’s health and wellbeing needs.

Fleur has contributed to other scholarly projects celebrating the lives of Australian women, among them the Australian Women’s Archives Project (AWAP) , which was established in 2000 as a project by the National Foundation for Australian Women in collaboration with the University of Melbourne’s School of Historical Studies providing leadership in the area of historical research and technical innovation and support provided by research fellows in the eScholarship Research Centre.

 

[1] Freidan, Betty (1993). The Fountain of Age. New York: Simon and Schuster.

[2] Letter from Fleur Spitzer to John Cody, 6 December 1993.

[3] Spitzer, Fleur (1994). Public Speech at the Launch of the Alma Unit for Women and Ageing, University of Melbourne.

The interaction of art and science in the Print Collection

Working at the University of Melbourne’s Print Collection as part of the 2016 International Museum and Collections Award was like entering a veritable Aladdin’s cave of riches for a recent Art History Graduate like me.  Although the shelves are stacked with plenty of treasures for me to feast my eyes on, I was particularly struck by The Reward of Cruelty which is part of a series of four engravings entitled ‘The Four Stages of Cruelty’ by William Hogarth and was published in 1751.

William Hogarth, The Reward of Cruelty, 1751, engraving, plate: 38.8 x 31.8 cm, Purchased, 1995, Baillieu Library Print Collection, the University of Melbourne.

I was familiar with both Hogarth’s Gin Lane and A Harlot’s Progress with their satire of English 18th century life and their motive to serve as a warning to the lower classes. Each image is clearly designed to emphasis morals (or the absence thereof) and demonstrates the downfall of those who spend their lives courting vice, whether through drinking, prostitution or gambling.
In one sense, The Reward of Cruelty can be seen in a similar vein, offering a deterrent to those who may choose a life of criminality by highlighting the consequences—ultimately, a public execution and a body which will be dissected and thus denied a Christian burial and place in the afterlife.

William Hogarth, Gin Lane, 1751, engraving, image: 35.3 x 30.2cm, Gift of Dr J. Orde Poynton, 1959, Baillieu Library Print Collection, the University of Melbourne.

William Hogarth, Apprehended by a magistrate, (1732), engraving, plate: 22.7 x 37.9cm, Gift of Dr J. Orde Poynton, 1959, Baillieu Library Print Collection, the University of Melbourne.

Yet this image is macabre and perhaps propagandistic to the extreme, suggesting not only an undignified end to those who submit to a life of crime but also demonstrating the then popular suspicion of surgeons and a distaste for this practice of anatomisation.

Here the dissectors at hand are portrayed as vultures surrounding a carcass, quick to begin their preparations despite the fact the hangman’s noose has not yet been removed from the body, thereby signalling that their subject may in fact still be alive. They are devoid of humanity or caring and the crowds suggest this public spectacle is one of entertainment rather than to further the pursuit of medical knowledge. Hogarth succeeds in not only creating a grim warning that plays upon the steadfast religious attitudes of the era but also an image which demonstrates public distrust of contemporary medical advancements.

This contrasts vividly with another print in the collection: that of Johannes Pieter de Frey’s etching after Rembrandt The anatomy lesson (1798). In this image the surgeons seem more focused upon the book in front of them rather than the cadaver; they appear scholarly and sensible, studying their text instead of launching into the dissection. The composition of the print draws parallels with the motif of the depiction of the lamentation of Christ and emphasises that although this body is also of a criminal denied a Christian burial, this sacrifice is necessary for the furthering of scientific knowledge.

Johannes Pieter de Frey after Rembrandt van Rijn, The anatomy lesson, (1789), etching, image: 28.1 x 36.2 cm, Gift of Dr J. Orde Poynton, 1959, Baillieu Library Print Collection, the University of Melbourne.

It is this intersection between both art and science that can be traced throughout these prints and offers a different way of contemplating this collection.
These prints, alongside many other examples by artists such as Claude Lorrain, Francisco De Goya and Rembrandt, are available to study and view on request in the Baillieu Library Reading Room.

To learn more about the Museums and Collections Award please see:
Emily Robins – intern at University of Melbourne’s Collections
International Museums and Collections Award

For further reading please see:
Fiona Haslam, From Hogarth to Rowlandson: Medicine in Art in Eighteenth-century Britain. Liverpool: Liverpool University Press, 1996

Emily Robins
International Museums and Collections Award Recipient 2016

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