In the Zine House: The Hallway and the Balcony
In the final part of Lea Cooper’s six-part series about the study of zines in the medical humanities, we move through the Hallway and out onto the Balcony to consider zines, libraries and research.
In the final part of Lea Cooper’s six-part series about the study of zines in the medical humanities, we move through the Hallway and out onto the Balcony to consider zines, libraries and research.
Zines that connect to plants, the environment and nature often distribute knowledges with long histories as well as offering new ways of relating to the future, says Lea Cooper in part five of their
We explore zines that centre food in Part Four of Lea Cooper’s six-part series about the study of zines in the medical humanities. Most good zine titles involve a pun. This title is a
In Part Three of Lea Cooper’s six-part series about the study of zines in the medical humanities, we move from the living room to the bathroom, containing zines around (Self-)Care. Most good zine titles
In Part Two of Lea Cooper’s six-part series about the study of zines in the medical humanities, we move from the bedroom to the living room, where we encounter zines about trauma and memory.
In this six-part series about the study of zines in the medical humanities, Lea Cooper starts in the bedroom, where many zines begin their lives. Most good zine titles involve a pun. This title
Jane Hartshorn writes: In November 2020, I facilitated a creative writing workshop as part of Thinking Through Things: Object Encounters in the Medical Humanities.
Inspired by the scrapbooks of Audrey Amiss, artist and dancer Benjamin Skinner reflects upon the processes through which we (dis)engage with waste objects in everyday life. This article is part of a two-week takeover
The question of how the ancients conceptualised the body has been taken up by many scholars, yet analysis is often focused primarily on the textual evidence. Anatomical votives can offer a more tangible link to medical history, argues Stephanie Holton.
Jemima Short argues that a nineteenth-century lithograph found in Wellcome Collection speaks to inequalities in health care work today.