Edita Schubert lived a life of contradictions - for over three decades, she created precise and technical illustrations in the Institute of Anatomy at the University of Zagreb's medical faculty, yet in her studio, she made art that defied categorization. She used scalpels and other tools meant for surgical procedures to create artworks that resisted every attempt at classification.
Schubert's dual vocation was not unusual for Yugoslav artists who rarely had access to a commercial art market. However, the way these two worlds bled into each other was unique. Her anatomical drawings are still published in handbooks for medical students in Croatia today. In the early 1970s, Schubert created hyperrealistic still lifes in oil and acrylic of sweets and salt and sugar shakers, but her frustration with traditional painting grew since her student days at Zagreb's Academy of Fine Arts.
In 1977, that urge took literal form when Schubert produced eleven large canvases painted in blue monochrome before taking a medical scalpel and making hundreds of precise cuts. She then folded back the sliced fabric to reveal its reverse, creating works she documented with forensic precision. This marked a turning point in her practice as she began creating installations from organic materials such as branches bound with leather.
Schubert's art often featured newspaper photographs and text layered over them, partially veiling wartime reality. Her sister, Marina, recalls that the uncertainty of the period, together with continuous reports of destruction and loss, placed Schubert in a difficult position between her artistic pursuit and the rapidly changing world around her.
As she grew older, Schubert continued to push boundaries. Diagnosed with colon cancer in 1997, she created Biography β five groups of glass test tubes filled with photographs spanning her childhood, travels, artworks, anatomical drawings from medical manuals, and self-portraits titled Phony Smile. Her final installation, Horizons, invited viewers to step inside circular panoramas of places she loved.
Throughout the exhibition, it is clear that Schubert's art defies easy categorization. She remains elusive even decades after her death, leaving visitors to interpret her works in multiple ways.
Schubert's dual vocation was not unusual for Yugoslav artists who rarely had access to a commercial art market. However, the way these two worlds bled into each other was unique. Her anatomical drawings are still published in handbooks for medical students in Croatia today. In the early 1970s, Schubert created hyperrealistic still lifes in oil and acrylic of sweets and salt and sugar shakers, but her frustration with traditional painting grew since her student days at Zagreb's Academy of Fine Arts.
In 1977, that urge took literal form when Schubert produced eleven large canvases painted in blue monochrome before taking a medical scalpel and making hundreds of precise cuts. She then folded back the sliced fabric to reveal its reverse, creating works she documented with forensic precision. This marked a turning point in her practice as she began creating installations from organic materials such as branches bound with leather.
Schubert's art often featured newspaper photographs and text layered over them, partially veiling wartime reality. Her sister, Marina, recalls that the uncertainty of the period, together with continuous reports of destruction and loss, placed Schubert in a difficult position between her artistic pursuit and the rapidly changing world around her.
As she grew older, Schubert continued to push boundaries. Diagnosed with colon cancer in 1997, she created Biography β five groups of glass test tubes filled with photographs spanning her childhood, travels, artworks, anatomical drawings from medical manuals, and self-portraits titled Phony Smile. Her final installation, Horizons, invited viewers to step inside circular panoramas of places she loved.
Throughout the exhibition, it is clear that Schubert's art defies easy categorization. She remains elusive even decades after her death, leaving visitors to interpret her works in multiple ways.