<h1>Stars are corpses</h1>
The Anatomy Theatre in Europe in the 17th century was a tourist hotspot, a spectacle that combined medicine with art.
Theater of the Dead: The Anatomy Theater of Archiginnasio, Bologna, Archiginnasio
The Anatomy Theatre is one of the most fascinating tourist attractions in the city. For three euros, visitors can visit the Anatomy Theatre and the former University, the first university in Europe. But the space lacked an important feature: a corpse. In the 1650s, people didn't flock to take photos and gaze at the architectural features. Instead, they came to the place of the dead.
Although Padua, Verona, Venice and Rome all have theaters, this cultural phenomenon is not only reserved for Italy. Due to the public anatomy they held, throughout Europe, anatomy theaters associated with early universities steadily became tourist attractions. From Leiden to Paris, Amsterdam and London, these unusual city attractions open their doors to a passionate and interested public. With the development of the 17th century, the Anatomy Theater became the focal point of urban life, where the fashion elite would gather. It was not just reserved for medical personnel, it represented an enlightened stage where clergy, local officials, merchants, administrators and even members of the royal family could socialize.
Bologna is not the only anatomy theater that has survived; Leiden and Padua are the earliest examples of modernization and continue to operate as tourist sites. Both were built in 1594 and they offer anatomy lessons in the form of weekly anatomy for university students and the general public. Meetings are held during the coldest month of the year – in order to preserve corpses – with different specific organs or systems dedicated to the human body.
Bologna followed in 1638, and by the end of the 17th century Europe was filled with anatomy theaters. Designed for educational purposes, its functions quickly proved to be diverse, as other uses quickly surfaced. Grand in scale and lavishly decorated, the styles of different theaters in Europe tend to be different, and most have one thing in common: those dissected are executed as criminals. With the exception of Bologna, where lax laws allow for other methods of obtaining the dead, most theaters rely on streams of corpses directly from the gallows. In this sense, a tour of the Anatomy Theater is closely related to watching public execution. Shortly after watching the suspension or execution, the witness could see the same person being dissected, a strange,
Therefore, looking at public profiling means more than just medical investigation. Especially in Italy, anatomy was performed during community celebrations; Most notably, carnival. Although these celebrations coincided with cooler months, historian Giovanni Ferrari believed that the mix of celebrations and public dissection was a very careful choice by Bologna officials, designed to encourage a large audience to attend. Regardless of the usefulness of the presentation or the scope of the topics covered, "outdated" dissections are often rigorously noticed by organizers and flagged as unsuccessful. As one observer described, the theater of Bologna is "one of the most famous buildings in Italy, constantly amazed by foreigners, and the splendor of the city in which it was built". This interplay between miracles, recognition, and glory shows that what matters is not educational or medical progress, but a large audience, international prestige and the strengthening of the authority of the University, medical or otherwise. As Jonathan Sawday points out, no respected British traveller would travel to the Netherlands and miss Leiden's Anatomy Theatre, which is often the highlight of a visit. In 1641, the writer and diarist John Evelyn wrote: "Of all the rare objects of this place, I am very pleased with the sight of the anatomy school, the theater and the adjacent storage room. No respectable British traveler would travel to the Netherlands and miss Leiden's Anatomy Theatre, which is often the highlight of a visit. In 1641, the writer and diarist John Evelyn wrote: "Of all the rare objects of this place, I am very pleased with the sight of the anatomy school, the theater and the adjacent storage room. No respectable British traveler would travel to the Netherlands and miss Leiden's Anatomy Theatre, which is often the highlight of a visit. In 1641, the writer and diarist John Evelyn wrote: "Of all the rare objects of this place, I am very pleased with the sight of the anatomy school, the theater and the adjacent storage room. ”
By the middle of the 17th century, the Anatomy Theater was at least no longer seen by medical institutions as a place of anatomical discovery. Instead, competing crowds and competing academic factions mean that getting a good seat is tricky, and students often rely on private, closed-door meetings dedicated to medical staff to improve their understanding of the body. Historians now believe that this was the ritual, symbolic and ultimately spectacular function of the anatomical theater in the crowd. In Bologna, posters spread around the city, announcing the date and time of the public meeting. Like a show or museum, entries are fined, usually for a fee. Usually, the audience has access to music beforehand, and it is noisy revelers and noisy people who are excited about the celebration.
A series of vibrant rituals reinforce this sense of ritual. Spectators sit according to the rank and maintain the dress code. The theater itself is very beautiful and ornate, often loosely based on classical models such as the Colosseum, and carved from wood. Like Roman emperors, anatomists behave like performers, often sitting high on decorative "thrones." Wood carvings or eerie sculptures and skull murals of famous doctors, strange and disturbing souvenirs, reinforce the sense of spectacle. All these elements create a dramatic and revealingly seductive atmosphere that encourages the viewing of the dead through aesthetics and even celebratory eyes. Although medical community such as William Hunter disapproved, anatomical science has become a spectacle, and its gaze is no longer pure medicine.
Whatever the motive for viewing the dead, by the 19th century, the popularity of anatomy theater was fading as new teaching methods developed and the public interest diminished. Today, some still stand the remnants of the ongoing relationship between medicine and the arts, a fascinating meeting point for historians of theater, science, and culture.