For more than three decades, Croatian artist Edita Schubert led a double life as both a meticulous anatomical illustrator for medical textbooks and an avant-garde artist, blurring the lines between her two seemingly disparate worlds.
Schubert's work with human bodies in the Institute of Anatomy at the University of Zagreb's medical faculty may have provided the precise technical skills that became crucial to her artistic practice. Her notes are still published in handbooks for medical students in Croatia today. As a curator, David Crowley remarks on how Schubert's two worlds overlapped: "She was producing these really precise, technical illustrations which were used in medical textbooks," he states.
While the artist might have initially found frustration with the limitations of her traditional painting practice – working from nudes or with sweets as subjects, for instance – a turning point came when she began experimenting with unconventional tools and materials. This was marked by the 1977 production of eleven large canvases painted in blue monochrome before taking a medical scalpel and making hundreds of precise cuts, creating artworks that were documented with forensic precision.
This particular series also saw Schubert employing what her friend Leonida Kovač would come to describe as a mysterious strategy: "I always want to be mysterious, not to reveal what I'm doing." In the late 1970s and early 80s, she then began creating installations from branches bound with leather, collections of bone, petals, spices, and ash arranged on floors.
Schubert's practice continued to evolve, as evident in her 1982 participation at the Venice Biennale and a Biennale of Sydney exhibition, yet even she rarely gave interviews or discussed her work openly, instead relying on subtle visual cues that invited viewers to interpret her creations.
As the Yugoslav Wars broke out, Schubert responded with collages of newspaper photographs and text – layered over paint in black bars resembling barcodes. This marked a particularly confrontational period for the artist: "The uncertainty of the period, together with the continuous reports of destruction and loss, placed her in a difficult position between her artistic pursuit and the rapidly changing world around her," reflects her sister Marina.
Ultimately, Schubert's confrontation took on a different form as she faced cancer diagnosis. She produced five groups of glass test tubes filled with photographs spanning her life, including artworks and anatomical drawings from medical manuals, titled Biography (1997-98). Her final installation, Horizons (2000), depicted places she loved – such as Zagreb, the Croatian island of Vir, Paris, and Venice – inviting viewers to step inside panoramic views.
Decades after Schubert's passing, her oeuvre remains elusive. Even in exhibition spaces, one encounters various artists, with shifts occurring every few years. Perhaps this was how Schubert herself had intended it – maintaining an aura of mystery around a life that embodied duality and the blurred boundaries between science, art, and personal identity.
Schubert's work with human bodies in the Institute of Anatomy at the University of Zagreb's medical faculty may have provided the precise technical skills that became crucial to her artistic practice. Her notes are still published in handbooks for medical students in Croatia today. As a curator, David Crowley remarks on how Schubert's two worlds overlapped: "She was producing these really precise, technical illustrations which were used in medical textbooks," he states.
While the artist might have initially found frustration with the limitations of her traditional painting practice – working from nudes or with sweets as subjects, for instance – a turning point came when she began experimenting with unconventional tools and materials. This was marked by the 1977 production of eleven large canvases painted in blue monochrome before taking a medical scalpel and making hundreds of precise cuts, creating artworks that were documented with forensic precision.
This particular series also saw Schubert employing what her friend Leonida Kovač would come to describe as a mysterious strategy: "I always want to be mysterious, not to reveal what I'm doing." In the late 1970s and early 80s, she then began creating installations from branches bound with leather, collections of bone, petals, spices, and ash arranged on floors.
Schubert's practice continued to evolve, as evident in her 1982 participation at the Venice Biennale and a Biennale of Sydney exhibition, yet even she rarely gave interviews or discussed her work openly, instead relying on subtle visual cues that invited viewers to interpret her creations.
As the Yugoslav Wars broke out, Schubert responded with collages of newspaper photographs and text – layered over paint in black bars resembling barcodes. This marked a particularly confrontational period for the artist: "The uncertainty of the period, together with the continuous reports of destruction and loss, placed her in a difficult position between her artistic pursuit and the rapidly changing world around her," reflects her sister Marina.
Ultimately, Schubert's confrontation took on a different form as she faced cancer diagnosis. She produced five groups of glass test tubes filled with photographs spanning her life, including artworks and anatomical drawings from medical manuals, titled Biography (1997-98). Her final installation, Horizons (2000), depicted places she loved – such as Zagreb, the Croatian island of Vir, Paris, and Venice – inviting viewers to step inside panoramic views.
Decades after Schubert's passing, her oeuvre remains elusive. Even in exhibition spaces, one encounters various artists, with shifts occurring every few years. Perhaps this was how Schubert herself had intended it – maintaining an aura of mystery around a life that embodied duality and the blurred boundaries between science, art, and personal identity.
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200 yrs after she died people are still trying to figure her out 
. I don't think I'll ever look at art the same way again 
Her process of experimenting with unconventional tools and materials was total game-changer - who knew using a scalpel could be so...artistic? 
I love that she maintained this air of mystery around her life and art, inviting viewers to interpret her creations. It's like she was always one step ahead, keeping us curious about what lay beneath the surface. 
. It's like she was saying, "I'll make art however I want, no matter what's happening." 
The way she used unconventional materials and techniques is just genius – I mean, who else could turn medical scissors into a piece of art? 
And can we talk about the mystery surrounding her work for years on end? It's like she was leaving us clues to decipher, which is honestly kind of intimidating but also kinda amazing 
. Anyway, I think Schubert's legacy is all about embracing duality and finding beauty in unexpected places 
.
. The way she transitioned from painting to installations to collages also shows her willingness to experiment and push boundaries. What a fascinating life and career! 
But seriously, it's crazy to see how she blended those two worlds together.
But I guess that's what makes her final installations even more powerful - she found beauty in those difficult times.
. Her story is a testament to the power of embracing your passions & not being afraid to take risks 
. We can all learn from her example to stay true to ourselves & pursue our dreams with courage 
But what's really fascinating is how she managed to blend her medical expertise with her artistic passion. It's like she was able to see the world from two different perspectives at once, and that's something we can all learn from.
