When art is tendencially morbid.

What does plastination consist in?

Plastination I learned, is a method of preserving perishable biological specimens by replacing the tissue water and lipid with a curable plastic polymer. The specimens preserved in this manner are permanent, clean, non-toxic and dry. Plastinates retain textures and structures of tissue and are therefore an invaluable teaching resource in anatomy. Plastinated specimens have none of the usual hazards and restrictions associated with the study of anatomical specimens eg. use of gloves, toxic fumes, contagions etc, and are more robust than the original specimen.
In this way I guess this is one of the many progresses in terms of technology adapted to science, and one can easily imagine how useful it may be as a teaching tool or learning exercise. Speaking of tool I just would like to remind you ... yes we're still talking about human bodies, Komisch.

Voyeurism? Or Anatomy lesson?

Behind this academic use, some people have seen in the plastination method an artistic niche...

Dr. Gunther von Hagens alias Dr. Death is travelling around the world and shows his "dead" babies in most of the big cities.

"The BODY WORLDS exhibitions are first-of-their-kind exhibitions through which visitors learn about anatomy, physiology, and health by viewing real human bodies, using an extraordinary process called Plastination a groundbreaking method for specimen preservation invented by Dr. von Hagens in 1977."
This exhibition is a collection of about 200 real humans, organs, healthy and diseased ones. Just look at muscles and joints relating, look at another you sitting, playing chess, swimming, riding a horse, even look at a 8 months - pregnant woman and her foetus.

This exhibition is said to have an educating role. Death: the cessation of life, deprives a body of its humanity, the corpse being nothing more than just a thing. Dr. von Hagens wants to "break taboos". Breaking taboos about human's inside? About death? Did our grand- and their forefathers wait for this anatomist to break the taboo of death, or is it just that death remains one of our main intimate fears and a reason why we have cemetaries or crematoria? Dignity, rest and peace.

Make people face death and the nudity of our inside

This Body Worlds exhibition seems to be a unique opportunity to discover the inside of each one of us. But this also an artistic way of turning a dead human being into a sort of living dead thing. Nice one though.

An exhibition of corpses, as an honor for those corpses allowed to re-live through the look of the visitors. An alternative to burrial or cremation? Would you give your corpse a treat ... 1500 hours to turn your mere dead body into a plastinated dead being... Massages, hair- and nerves- and whatsoever cut... Have a nice death.

What annoys me a bit in this thing is not the scientific background, use or interest of such an anatomy study whatever you may call it, nor the methods used. This is rather the commercial aspects relying under it. People dying, deciding to give their corpse to Dr Von Hagens, who is then going to earn millions of dollors, thanks to your donation,thanks to DVDs, Books ,Toys and so on, it's ok ... But why is he working on all those corpses, in China? He claims that it is because China is the worlds' factory place, and that there are plenty of skilled graduated students, looking for a job after they are done with Med school. The problem is maybe not him but the others like him who started copying his method and finding the business both interesting and ... lucrative. China: a growing economy and a new industry...How to use human and animal remains...Unclaimed Chinese bodies? Medical school graduates, working for much more little money than somewhere else in Europe or US? At first an artistic niche. Now a corpses' trade niche.

"Know yourself. Know your body. Inside out." Such a good commercial ... Love it.

More infos: Gunther von Hagens / Body Worlds

Plastination Gallery

In french: a swiss article...

France Belgium a big no-no story

Last week...
There exist so many jokes about Belgian people in France and vice versa, that there must be a reason. I should have tought about it a bit... before. Before I accepted that a guy that I barely know comes to my place and stays for a week. But how did it happen?
Once upon a time, in the Alps... A pretty bored girl, tired of chastening her boyfriend and a couple of friends who couldn't stand each other, decided to escape and take a few hours of rest. That's how she ended up taking a snow board class. And that's how she met Olivier ... The Belgian guy. He seemed nice, funny and all. They even might have become friends if it wasn't just a 3 mornings class, and if they didn't leave in two different countries. On her way back to Paris, she received a text message on her cell with his instant messenger address. And that should have been a WARNING SIGN... Who wants to keep in touch with someone you barely know, a lovely wanna-be-your-friend, or a lovely freak-with-no-friend?

That was two years ago. Since that time we kept in touch just the strict minimum, saying "hi" via Internet (how nice are the relationships nowadays?) once every 6 months, and that's how it happened. Two months ago he just started asking me a few questions:

-"Wassup, Were are you now?"

-"In Berlin"

-"How is it?"

-"Cool..."

-"Can I come and visit you, how long may I stay?"

My little voice appeared to me and told me what the hell? I don't know him, anyway he doesn't know me by the same occasion, I guess he won't ask fore more than a weekend or so...

-"Ten days is it alright ? At the beginning of August."

Whaaaaaaaaaat? ten days? what does he think? Is he trying to avoid the costs of an hotel? What is this urge to visit me or Berlin? No way he's gonna stay for ten days...

-"Hmm...Well, I have to go back to Paris at the beginning of August, why don't you come at the end of July, I've got another friend visiting me until the 29th, why don't you come after her?" It It was pretty clear, wasn't it?

- "Well, ok then , I'll come from the 27th until the 6th of August...
Is he deaf or what?

-" No I can't, I'll be back to Paris by that time..."

- "Ok, I'll leave on the 3rd then. "

I guess ok then...

And there he is, staying at my place for a week. First night my roomate, my other friend, and I celebrated his arrival with a bottle of champagne... after two glasses, he was completely drunk, singing and yelling in our appartment and after two hours like that my brain seemed like a jam of stupid pop songs. Just after that another friend of mine arrived at my place, and that's when Olivier decided to set his heart on my house guest, smelling that a competition game with the newcomer could be funny. Whereas the newcomer played the cool guy card who doesn't care too much, he played every single card he could. Massages, jokes (the best being: what's green and goes up and down? Snivel...) singing, sex accomplishments and exploits, shames and prides, a 3 hour-long monologue. Everytime one of us wanted to phrase something, he simply cut us off and went on telling one more story about... himself of course. What else could he talk about. Maybe I should depict him a bit more. The 28 year-old Belgian had already been: a professional singer, French teacher, actor, chiropodist, photographer (of nude girls exculsively). He has been with his girlfriend for seven years, is but on a break for two months (oups ... but wasn't he also on a break two years ago...) because she dumped him for a girl. But they are doing fine and both go together next week to a shrink appointment, to start allover. No comment.

Anyway. Next day in Berlin, we are going out in a club: same protagonists as the day before, plus some other friends. After a few minutes dancing on the low beats of a rather good mix, my two friends are kissing. That's when Olivier starts to freak out. He definitely has to find someone to hook up with. The hunter looks around, seeking for his prey...The raptor realizes then that everyone around is German. Now the poor guy is scared. How is he gonna be the Don Juan of the club if destitute of his main force, words... Thank god his guardian angel keeps an eye on him and sends him the hunted. Olivier catches the eye of Virginie. And the plan of action is already all set up. He won't leave her all night long, will blahblah her for hours, about everything and mostly nothing. Too bad ... Nothing happens that night.

And that's when the nighmare starts. The next day he keeps asking me to call her see what she's doing, if she wants to go out with us, have a drink somewhere... and so on.

He keeps asking me what he should do, how he should do it, telling me by the way that he has forgotten how to flirt and that his threesomes, his girlfriend, his few other dates, never started like that. Most of the time he doesn't know the girls, hooks up with them, and then maybe tries to know a bit more about them. If they are worth it. Well this girl who ended up going out every night with us, avoiding him at the same time by talking to everyone but him, was just one example. He tried everything with her. Treating her in bars, trying to stay over at her place, a red rose in another bar, a dinner of home made sushis... Who wouldn't have fallen in love with such a chef... I at least would have... If there wasn't something wrong.

What was wrong? Everything. Everything in his behaviour, in his way to turn out any subject in a personal experience, in his whistling 24 hours a day, in his self esteem, in his way to tell you that he envies you and your life here, and in his way to be both so proud and so complicated. After noticing that it wouldn't work out with that French doll, he invited his ex to come to Berlin for a few days. But he did not invite her at my place because discussing it with a friend of mine who told him I wouldn't be so pleased, he invited her to stay at my friends' place. Strangely enough, she didn't come.

By the end of the week I think I had a better insight of his personality.By the end of his stay, he basically didn't see anything of Berlin. I think the only thing he visited was the Didim Döner, around the corner, having a Kebab there at almost every meal when I wasn't home. And of course as for being Belgian, he was compelled to criticize the German fries and beers. Telling me "come and visit me in Brussels, with all my new friends that I met this week in Berlin with you, and you will all test the best." He wasn't able to go alone anywhere to see anything, and always counted on my friends to take care of him while I was working. No curiosity, no independance, his sex leading the way unsuccessfully...hided far behind a shit load of words.

Thank god it's over.

No more strangers.

Exhausted.