Recently, I mentioned that I had previously visited the Barts Pathology Museum, and that I’ll be featuring it on #MuseumMonday in the near future. However, on my first visit back before Christmas, there was a site-specific art installation being exhibited titled On The Art of Teeth, between 3rd to 6th December 2025. This was conceived and produced by contemporary British artist Janetka Platun in collaboration with researcher Dr David Mills, whereby the museum’s historic collection of extracted human teeth were put on display (after being enlarged through 3D printing), with a programme of film, that blended scientific technique and creative interpretation. Set within the shadowy, main hall of the Museum, On The Art of Teeth confronted visitors with the form, texture, history, and resonance of human teeth, not merely as biological artefacts but as repositories of memory, identity, vulnerability, and narrative. The intersection of art and pathology, public health, history, and embodied experience made this exhibition striking in both its conceptual ambition and tangible execution. As you will see from my photos below, it felt more like a séance than a scientific display.

So you’re not waiting forever, what is the Barts Pathology Museum? Well it sits on the third floor of the Robin Brook Centre at St Bartholomew’s Hospital in West Smithfield, London. It is part of Queen Mary University of London’s Faculty of Medicine and Dentistry, and houses approximately 5,000 medical specimens spanning multiple centuries of pathology and clinical history. Originally established in 1879, the museum’s vast collection was historically used for teaching medical students. Yet, as pathology practices evolved and the use of preserved specimens in medical education declined through the twentieth century, the museum became infrequently open to the public. Over the last decade, targeted conservation efforts and a new public‑engagement strategy have gradually opened the space for special events, talks, workshops, and exhibits such as On The Art of Teeth. The museum’s architecture, with its tall Victorian display shelves, spiral staircases, and cases filled with jars of human tissues, creates an atmosphere that is scientific, uncanny, and resonant, situating the exhibition against a backdrop that itself is historically rich, emotionally charged, and visually compelling. If you get the chance to visit and you’re not squeamish, then please do.

Okay, back to the art installation. The roots of On The Art of Teeth stretch back to an ongoing collaboration that began around 2020 between artist Janetka Platun and Dr David Mills, a Senior Lecturer in Imaging and Calcified Tissues at Queen Mary. Their shared interest in teeth (both as biological structures and rich symbolic objects) led to an interdisciplinary dialogue bridging artistic imagination with scientific methodology. Their focus centred on a group of 24 specimens known as the museum’s Diseases of Teeth collection, which includes extracted teeth with associated index cards detailing their medical histories. Many of these specimens date back to the 19th century and illustrate the range of dental anomalies, diseases, trauma, and interventions experienced by patients before the advent of modern dentistry. Platun’s practice which is characterised by film, sculpture, and inter‑relational explorations of people, memory, and time, found fertile ground in these artifacts, which bear physical traces of human lives, pain, survival, and loss. Dr Mills’ expertise brought a rigorous scientific dimension, using advanced imaging techniques to reveal structures unseen by the naked eye.

A central feature of the exhibition was its use of x‑ray microtomography, a scanning technology similar to CT imaging that uses thousands of projections to create highly detailed 3D reconstructions of small objects. Each tooth specimen in the Diseases of Teeth collection was scanned using this technique, generating data that visualised internal structures (canals, cavities, microfractures, and geological traces) invisible in ordinary light. These scans were then reconstructed into digital 3D images, which in turn guided the fabrication of enlarged ‘teeth sculptures’ and contributed to filmic projections displayed in the installation. The result was a multi‑sensory experience in which tooth morphology was transformed into sculptural forms and cinematic sequences that invited viewers to reconsider these objects not only as scientific specimens but as intimate artefacts with emotional and symbolic weight. The aesthetic choices of deprioritising clinical sterility in favour of atmospheric lighting, cinematic pacing, and thoughtful spatial design, allowed the exhibit’s deep interplay between form, data, and phenomenology to come through.

At its core, On The Art of Teeth was as much a philosophical inquiry as an artistic exploration. Teeth, for many people, represent more than chewing implements; they are markers of age, trauma, cultural practice, identity, and the intimate interfaces between self and world. In Platun’s articulation, teeth become sites of memory, loss, and survival. Teeth carry traces of lived experience, cavities formed by diet, wear patterns from habitual use, fractures from accidents, and disease‑induced deformities. The Diseases of Teeth collection embodies these traces, functioning as biological archives of individual histories. By focusing on these specimens, the exhibition invited viewers to imagine not just physiological processes but the human stories behind each tooth. In a surprisingly intimate way, an extracted molar or incisor becomes a kind of witness to a life lived, hardships endured, and body transformed. One of the striking conceptual angles in the exhibition is the paradox that teeth (once removed from the body) often endure long after other tissues have decomposed. Inside the body, teeth are vulnerable to decay, disease, and trauma; but once extracted, enamel and dentine can remain long after the rest of a person’s anatomy has faded. This paradox was artistically amplified in the juxtaposition of delicate scientific imaging with robust sculptural reproductions, reflecting both fragility and endurance. It encouraged reflection on mortality, embodiment, and the traces we leave behind. Beyond personal narratives, the exhibition positioned dental health within wider social contexts.

For visitors (such as myself), On The Art of Teeth was designed as an immersive journey rather than a traditional display of specimens behind glass. The museum’s low light levels during the winter evenings, the deliberate use of candlelight, and film projections contributed to an atmosphere that blended introspection with discovery. Visitors encountered the forms of enlarged teeth sculptures, illuminated by candles to highlight the teeth, and in the right light show internal shadows and structures usually hidden from view, while also casting others upon them. This exhibition contributed to a growing field where medical history and artistic practice intersect. By focusing on teeth, objects that are simultaneously mundane and profound, Platun’s installation drew attention not only to the aesthetic and material qualities of these biological forms but to their deeper cultural, psychological, and existential resonances. In the context of a museum rarely open to the public, On The Art of Teeth also helped to foreground the value of medical collections not as relics of bygone practices but as vibrant resources for interdisciplinary exploration.

On The Art of Teeth was a compelling exploration at the intersection of art, science, history, and public health. By transforming extracted tooth specimens into profound artistic media through advanced imaging and sculptural amplification, the exhibition encouraged its audience to reconsider everyday biological objects as carriers of complex narratives and meanings. It was genius as teeth are a universally recognised as we all have them at some point in our lives. Situated within the evocative setting of the Barts Pathology Museum, this installation showcased how creative practice can illuminate scientific collections, bridge disciplinary divides, and invite participants into deeper consideration of what it means to live, suffer, decay, and endure. In doing so, it underscored the power of art to evoke reflection, connection, and dialogue within spaces that might otherwise remain inaccessible or underexplored. I for one came away with a deeper understanding of the need to care for my own teeth.

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