On Collaborating with Scientists

Pint of Science is an annual science festival that brings researchers into pubs and cafés to share their research with the public. It's a really cool festival. This year, I was commissioned as part of their Pint of Creativity event, where a scientist and an artist collaborate on a piece of work, based on the scientist's research. 

I was paired up with Richard Arm, a researcher at Nottingham Trent University's School of Art and Design, who uses art and science to create life-like human organs for surgery practise. 
 
Richard and his team use real patients' scan data into 3D printed models that are identical in shape, size and tactility to real human organs. By applying the latest advanced manufacturing techniques to the healthcare industry, they're providing ground-breaking solutions to support surgeons to undertake highly technical and often life-saving surgical operations with fewer complications.

On Friday 19th May 2023, I performed this poem, which I'd written, based on Richard's research. I'm really proud of how it came out! 


The Rehearsal 

An illusionist’s cabinet, your body conceals its secrets behind sinew and skin.
A messy, idiosyncratic thing, conjuring trials and tricks to trip you – 
cysts, cataracts, cancer. It is a finely-balanced biological instrument. 
No, not an instrument, a machine. No, not a machine, a computer. 
No, not a computer. A body. Fleshy and fallible, prone to collapse. 

The arteries of your heart are so fragile, that even a tiny tear can kill,
so scalpels clutched in shaking fingers could never engender confidence.
How can I practise my craft when the stakes are so high? A body 
is not a trial run, or an exercise yard, or a poorly-executed card trick. 
There are always fifty-one wrong answers before the ace is finally found.

But this is the harm that heals – the sharp slice that stops the rot,
the tweezers that ease out the shrapnel, the suture that steams 
the bleed. Your heart, bursting with electric momentum, ventricles 
asymmetrical, dark as unexplored caverns, blood vessels tightening.
Every new disaster performed with a magician’s theatrical flourish. 

They used to snatch bodies from graves to uncover their secrets – 
whole churchyards ransacked in the pursuit of the knowledge that
lies beneath your breast bone. These days, we ask the dead for 
permission before we crack their ribcages, and it helps, it helps.
But there are always better ways to say the same old spells. 

So, 3D print me a heart, lungs, skin and sinew. Show me how it feels
to slide a blade between muscle and fat, searching for rot, bleed,
shrapnel. Lay out a body like a white tablecloth, and vanish the 
anguish of mistakes costing lives. Let me practise in safety, 
pulling tumours from incisions, like rabbits from silk top hats.

Let me rehearse the tricks on a captive audience, a body replicated 
and reproduced, an illusion to strengthen my skills, until I can spot 
the ace in the deck from fifty yards away. Give me time to get things 
right, so you can breathe easy, knowing I have rehearsed the magic of 
surgery, without spilling a drop, ready to catch the bullet in my teeth. 


Photo: model's own










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