Exploring the Connections between the Medical Sciences and Art (Part 2)

2022/02/17

Masayuki Amagai　Dean, Keio University School of Medicine (Title at that time)

Professor, Department of Dermatology

Yoichi Kitayama　 Guest Professor (Part-time), Faculty of Environment and Information Studies,

Keio University

The Gospellers

Yohko Watanabe　 Professor, Keio University Art Center

Vice Director, Keio Museum Commons

(Names listed in alphabetical order by last name)

Read Part 1 here

Kitayama: In the past, music and science were seen as incompatible, but in the 1990s, a trend emerged to study music from the perspective and framework of science. The x-Music Laboratory, launched at Shonan Fujisawa Campus (SFC), is just one example. The power of medicine is necessary to study music, and I would like to use our strengths as a comprehensive university to connect music with medicine.

Amagai: I think it's terrific that Keio University has an appreciation for art as a comprehensive university. I believe it is the power of a university to provide a place where people can witness the chemistry between art and science and how that interplay influences young people.

Hospitals are inherently sterile environments, as their top priority is medical safety and avoiding the risk of infection. But that sterility can have an adverse effect on the way we feel. Illness and emotion are linked, so, as medical professionals, an inability to feel would risk not saving the people who need saving. How can art and medicine collaborate in the future?

Kitayama: I'm interested in the medical mechanism of how people perceive the same music in different ways, not to mention whether they like it or not. I’m also interested in synchronicity. I'd like to know more about the reaction mechanisms when people emit sounds together, such as singing along to a rhythm.

I also think that musicians, when collaborating on a piece of music, often have the skill to respect one other while expressing their own views. Good music doesn’t come from simply conforming to what other people think. Training to create music also fosters a person's social skills, which may link up with the education of medical professionals. That’s one reason I’d like to make this a research topic for myself.

Kitayama: One of music's greatest weaknesses is the fact that the moment it starts, it's already over. It is constantly changing, and no two performances are ever the same. It differs from paintings in that respect.

When I was a child, I went to an exhibition of Eugène Delacroix and was so fascinated by one of his paintings that I was glued to the spot and couldn’t move for hours. I think that art has the power to keep captivating people across generations. When it comes to music, I have an intuition about what captivates people. But what is the draw of an art form like painting, which is less temporal and doesn’t change over time?

Watanabe: Fine art is made up of materials like oil paints, which lend it a certain physical appeal and power, whereas music is more abstract because it is made up of sound.

What I find interesting is that each viewer sees art in a completely different context but is nonetheless moved by it. For example, Mr. Kitayama is not a Frenchman from the 19th century, so I find it extremely interesting how Delacroix's paintings could move a Japanese child from a completely different cultural context.

I believe that artworks are not only visual but possess a tactile quality. When I studied Van Gogh, I saw some of his hand-drawn sketches. When I saw the pencil strokes and how hard they had been pressed onto the paper, I felt a wave of euphoria to think that Van Gogh himself had physically drawn these lines. I think the allure of art also lies in the fact that you can still see the lines and brushstrokes of famous painters who put so much effort into their work.

It is interesting to note that once you see the real thing and experience that kind of emotion, you can later recall the feeling just by seeing it in a photograph. It is the same with architectural photography. For example, in the photograph of a classroom in “A Shinanomachi Journey" (see Part 1), I wanted to take a photograph that evoked something in the memories of the people who studied there. The architecture itself is a part of the lives of the people who spent time there.

It's also interesting how the brain works in such a way that even with the same work of art, our view of it changes depending on our individual experiences.

The better the work of art, the more access points it has, and the better it is for everyone. I think great works of art are open to diversity. Everyone sees what they like in it in entirely different ways. And yet, there are aspects that we also share.

Kitayama: This made a lot of sense to me. A great work of art that many people appreciate is easily accessible and has many different ways of hooking its audience, drawing people in and captivating them.

I think the weakness of a work of art or music is that it either resonates with you or it doesn’t, no matter how good it may be. But the moment it does, it has tremendous power.

Since being asked to participate in this interview, I have been thinking about how I can contribute to people on the frontlines in medicine. I wonder what I can do to help since they all have different genres of music and art that they like.

Watanabe: COVID-19 has been suffocating in many ways, causing our lives to become more monotonous as they become more and more sterile to avoid risk by process of elimination. I think music and art can provide a break from the usual routine. Amid the anxieties of avoiding infection, exposure to songs and images can guarantee a moment of respite where we can feel something different.

I heard about people in Italy singing on their balconies to thank frontline medical workers. By singing out loud, they must have felt liberated as well. In a monotonous world fraught with the coronavirus, music may be the vent that lets people blow off some steam.

Kitayama: Hearing that is like déjà vu... When the earthquake hit, it took me a long time before I finally went to the disaster area to sing. I wondered if it might be violent to hurl music at the people whose houses were still covered in mud and who were suffering from the disaster. I even wondered if it was okay to sing or if there was any point in making music. However, I was asked by someone who knew from experience that it would be very helpful to bring music to the volunteers working in the disaster area, and I was able to work with them on several occasions. In fact, there were times when hardworking volunteers came back to the volunteer center and burst into tears when they heard our music.

I was so worried about how difficult it was to find a way to fit music into the anxiety of frontline medicine, but after hearing your ideas, I think that relaxing, light background music might be the best option.

Watanabe: I exhibited works that had a deep connection to the Japan earthquake and tsunami of 2011 at the Art Center on April 7, 2020, amid the coronavirus pandemic. After the state of emergency was declared, the university closed down, so we knew we couldn't realistically open the exhibition that day, but the entire staff felt that we really had to keep it open. Now that I think about it, I think I just wanted the exhibition to exist. I didn’t want to lose to the pandemic.

After that, I continued to share information in every possible way, including videos of installing the exhibition. I have been involved in art exhibitions for almost 30 years, but this was the first time I was unable to open an exhibition. It was such a relief to visit the exhibition space once a week to see how it was doing. Part of me wanted to let people know that the exhibition “existed,” but now that I look back, I think that I was the one who was saved by its existence.

Amagai: Having an exhibition to beat the virus must have been a huge motivation amid the surge of COVID-19. Something very similar happened to us at the School of Medicine. When COVID-19 started to spread in 2020, medical professionals engaged on the frontlines were focused on providing the best medical care to patients. But among the basic medical scientists who had less direct contact with COVID-19 patients, there was a spontaneous movement in early April to ask ourselves what we could do to beat the virus.

For example, researchers who had previously only done human genetic analysis started genetic analysis on viruses. We all started to think about what we could do with our skills.

Shibasaburo Kitasato, the first dean of the School of Medicine, was the first person in the world to discover the plague bacillus in a trying time when plague broke out in the 1890s. His spirit of perseverance seems to have been passed on to our school today, and there was tremendous energy with everyone united in the fight against COVID-19. It was also an opportunity for me to realize what I could do in my current position.

The coronavirus pandemic has made me question my values. I couldn't go to conferences or go on overseas business trips because of the virus, but I think that time has helped me reevaluate my career and become more grounded.

Lastly, may I have your comments about what good you have seen come out of the coronavirus pandemic and how you will draw on these lessons in a post-pandemic world?

Kitayama: There is a tendency not to say anything good during the pandemic because there are so many people suffering, but I think it’s very important to share good news as well. It has been an opportunity to go outside my comfort zone and become aware of things that have supported me so far. In the future, I’d like to gather like-minded people and have a forum for discussion to create something that bridges the worlds of medicine and art. I hope we can do something new and interesting in unprecedented areas.

Amagai: What you've just suggested really hits home for me. There are so many people at the School of Medicine who enjoy art and music, so wouldn’t it be nice if we could tie them together.

In 2020, I was scheduled to preside over the annual meeting of the Japanese Dermatological Association at the Kyoto International Conference Center. The Dermato Orchestra, an orchestra formed by dermatologists from all over Japan, was even slated to perform Beethoven’s “Symphony No. 9.” They practiced all year, but unfortunately, due to the pandemic, we weren’t able to get together and perform. But it showed me that where there’s a will, there’s a way, so I really hope we can create more chances for collaboration between medicine and art.

Kitayama: And not just music. I think it would be great if we could involve various other art forms as well. I hope I can have a part in making this happen.

Watanabe: One of the best things that happened to me during the pandemic was that it changed the way I teach. Under the circumstances, we had to move classes entirely online, so I wanted to make them something that would leave a lasting impression and hit upon the idea for a class called “Considering the Unseen Exhibition.” Like the art center exhibition we held when the university was closed, we held classes on demand and asked students to write around ten essays on how to communicate when an exhibition is on but not open. I gave a hearty response of around 100 characters to every essay, so there was a sense of one-on-one interaction and intensive communication despite the lack of face time.

I started by asking the students to write about what they felt about the exhibition title, "Gaze Breathing via Branchial Respiration," as if it were a Zen koan. It was an experience that would not have been possible in in-person classes, and I think we were able to communicate well through the artwork.

It was only then that I realized that even in person, I relied on photographs and other virtual works of art to teach class, much the same as with remote classes. It was a great realization for me that I had been oblivious to until that point. It wasn't like we had the artwork in front of us, even in person, yet I was never inventive with those classes.

Making the theme of the class about "The Unseen Exhibition" led us to consider the potential of thoroughly physical art forms in the event of a future disaster like COVID-19. The pandemic made it clear that the modern forms of museums and exhibitions are coming to an end. I feel this is a turning point where people in the art world need to pause and seriously think about new configurations for museums and exhibitions.

As for the collaboration between art and the School of Medicine, I would like to hold an art class at Shinanomachi, hoping that these students and future doctors will be exposed to a different culture through their encounters with artists. I really think that these encounters will be useful in some way when they become doctors. Medicine is all about encounters with the unknown, so I think that taking a class with an artist could be a fundamental experience that brings you into contact with an entirely different category of people. I would love to plan a workshop with medical students.

Amagai: I really want to make this happen. If we make it possible for medical students and people from other undergraduate faculties to join, there may be some real chemistry that leads to something new.

Thank you very much for sharing your thoughts on the future possibilities between art and medicine with us today.

While they may seem worlds apart, there are many links between them, and you never know what can come out of partnerships between them. I think we can look forward to the prospect of future collaborations.