The Art of Medicine

Visitors clutching yellow sketchbooks meandered through the “Tender Loving Care” exhibit at Boston’s Museum of Fine Arts, absorbing images of nurturing and need: an oil painting of a woman’s dress and apron shielding a fetus, encircled by domestic symbols like teapots and bread; a sketch of a premature newborn cocooned in tubes while recovering from a heart operation.

The visitors were future caregivers themselves: third-year students at Tufts University School of Medicine who typically examine patients, not portraits. A collaboration between the medical school and the School of the Museum of Fine Arts at Tufts empowers these future doctors to consider the human body through an emotional lens with Drawing as a Tool for Communication, a daylong workshop guided by SMFA Professor of the Practice Ethan Murrow.

“This is a time to talk to students about what art and medicine have in common: perception, listening, and observation,” explained Murrow, a professional artist who specializes in drawing.

The aim is to sharpen the future physicians’ communication skills—as well as to tap into their natural wells of compassion and empathy during a particularly intense stretch of their education. 

Most students are in the midst of rotations when the optional workshop takes place.

Sarah Rosenberg-Scott, M06, MPH06, assistant professor in the Department of Family Medicine, launched the collaboration in 2023 as a component of her Perspectives in Medicine–Patients, Populations, and Systems course. The course spans multiple years, examining healthcare systems and the patient experience with a focus on social justice, health equity, and community engagement. 

Adding something as unexpected as an art component was surprisingly straightforward, and emblematic of Tufts’ embrace of interdisciplinary cooperation.

“I had Ethan’s name and said, ‘Hey, I’m thinking of doing this,’ and he said, ‘Absolutely.’ There’s an ease of communication and true interest from people in other schools that’s really fostered here,” she said.

The SMFA workshop adds a valuable humanistic dimension to students’ penultimate year, in between the rush of clinical work.

“This is a course that goes beyond basic science to look at other aspects of being a doctor,” she said. “A lot of it is reflecting on: ‘The system is messed up. This is harder than I thought. Patients can’t access care in the way we’d like them to.’ But we also try to build in moments of community, to reconnect with those parts of themselves they’re not able to during this clerkship year.”

As such, the Perspectives course includes cathartic, creative electives like Murrow’s SMFA workshop, as well as other outlets like improv and storytelling sessions. It’s a welcome diversion; it’s also a valuable opportunity to hone observational and translational skills.

“We talk at the very beginning of med school about communicating with body language: ‘What nonverbal cues can I pick up on to help me provide better care?’ This gives students a chance to revisit those skills while looking at great art, being in a space that feels so different from hospital-centered, patient care,” she said.

At the museum, Murrow first led students to a pencil sketch of a man splayed on a park bench with his head covered in a newspaper. Was he napping? Sick? Simply enjoying a sunny day? 

“How would you title what’s happening?” Murrow asked. “What’s the first word that comes to mind?”

The students shifted nervously, clearly more accustomed to analyzing humans instead of art. A few looked down at their pads. The group was silent until one person volunteered tentatively: “Relaxed?”

“Bored,” offered another.

“Tired and exhausted,” someone else suggested.

The room cracked up, puncturing the tension like a needle.

“Are any of you feeling that way?” Murrow asked to laughter. “We see our own experience in a lot of art.”

The lesson was clear: Doctors might project their own emotions onto patients; feelings are a guide and a prism.

Next, the students split into pairs. One student held a sketchbook like a medical chart, turned away from the wall. Their partner described pieces of framed art in detail. On the surface, it looked like a fun drawing game. It was also a finely tuned exercise in precision and analysis — crucial skills when describing a cell, an organ, a tumor, or even a patient’s mood.

“One of the reasons I really love drawing is that it’s a language, a form of communication. These soon-to-be doctors are learning how to deal with people. I’m eager for them to keep in mind that, if they’re stuck, if they don’t have a translator, if they’re treating a kid, or if they just don’t know how to reach someone, drawing is always there as a tool,” Murrow said later.

He told the group about a time when his wife was in the hospital and a doctor drew a sketch of what a surgery would entail — bridging the gap between physician and family through the universal language of art.

“My goal is to share simple strategies that link drawing with perception, language, translation, and description. It says a lot about this wonderful group of School of Medicine students that they embraced activities like this wholeheartedly throughout our time at the museum,” Murrow said.

Celeste Hall, M26, one of the students in the workshop, said she appreciated taking a break from medicine to spend time in the art world and see how the two overlap.  

“Both the arts and the practice of medicine are forms of human expression,” she said. “I found lots of familiarity in the intentions that were described behind several artworks—most often, if not all, aimed at representing the human experience in some shape or form.”

The experience, she said, encouraged her to think outside the box when communicating with patients, “using the arts as common ground.”

And for Malcolm Norman, M26, the day transcended his expectations of a few pleasant hours gazing at artwork. Instead, the outing underscored how people with similar training and career trajectories could see the same museum—and maybe someday even the same patient—in vastly different ways. 

“What stood out the most was our final stop, when we each had to draw the open space we were in,” he said. “We each had a different perspective based on where we were standing, and we also each focused on different elements in the room. It goes to show how everyone can have different perspectives on things in life while looking at the same issue,” he said.