Röntgenfoto van de met TBC geïnfecteerde ruggenwervel van Isabel Wachenheimer, gedateerd op 2 april 1946 Possibly 1946

This is an X-ray of Isabel Wachenheimer’s spine, taken in 1946. It’s not a painting in the conventional sense, but I see it as a kind of portrait, rendered in ghostly grays. I can't help but think about the person behind the image, Isabel, and the anonymous technician who captured this view of her insides. What was their relationship? What were they both thinking? Maybe the technician saw their work as purely functional, but isn’t there a strange intimacy in seeing this hidden part of a person? The textures here are fascinating - the dense bone and the soft tissue create a landscape of light and shadow. There's a kind of abstract beauty, too, in the way the spine is rendered, a series of shapes stacked one on top of the other. You know, a little like a brutally honest version of a Brancusi sculpture. Even something as clinical as an X-ray can be a form of expression, connecting us to the past, to a person we’ll never know, and to the shared human experience of vulnerability and resilience.