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The Beautiful Brain: The Drawings of Santiago Ramon y Cajal
At the crossroads of art and science, The Beautiful Brain presents Nobel Laureate Santiago Ramón y Cajal’s contributions to neuroscience through his groundbreaking artistic brain imagery.
“Among the world’s greatest scientific illustrations. . . . They posit the thing between your ears as an immense cosmic universe, or at least one of the most intricate of all of nature’s creations. That the images are also undeniable as art only adds to the complexity.” — New York Times
Santiago Ramón y Cajal (1852–1934) was the father of modern neuroscience and an exceptional artist. He devoted his life to the anatomy of the brain, the body’s most complex and mysterious organ. His superhuman feats of visualization, based on fanatically precise techniques and countless hours at the microscope, resulted in some of the most remarkable illustrations in the history of science.
This selection of Cajal’s exquisite drawings of brain cells, brain regions, and neural circuits features accessible descriptive commentary, explored in the text from multiple This book is the companion to the traveling exhibition that marked the first time that many of these works, which are housed at the Instituto Cajal in Madrid, have been seen outside of Spain.
In addition to showcasing Cajal’s contributions to neuroscience and exploring his artistic roots and achievement, The Beautiful Brain looks at his work in relation to contemporary neuroscience imaging, appealing to general readers and professionals alike.
“Among the world’s greatest scientific illustrations. . . . They posit the thing between your ears as an immense cosmic universe, or at least one of the most intricate of all of nature’s creations. That the images are also undeniable as art only adds to the complexity.” — New York Times
Santiago Ramón y Cajal (1852–1934) was the father of modern neuroscience and an exceptional artist. He devoted his life to the anatomy of the brain, the body’s most complex and mysterious organ. His superhuman feats of visualization, based on fanatically precise techniques and countless hours at the microscope, resulted in some of the most remarkable illustrations in the history of science.
This selection of Cajal’s exquisite drawings of brain cells, brain regions, and neural circuits features accessible descriptive commentary, explored in the text from multiple This book is the companion to the traveling exhibition that marked the first time that many of these works, which are housed at the Instituto Cajal in Madrid, have been seen outside of Spain.
In addition to showcasing Cajal’s contributions to neuroscience and exploring his artistic roots and achievement, The Beautiful Brain looks at his work in relation to contemporary neuroscience imaging, appealing to general readers and professionals alike.
208 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 2017
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Displaying 1 - 23 of 23 reviews
September 25, 2019
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____________________
I love walking around cathedrals because they are sublime examples of vital art. I say "vital" because the art is not just seen, but lived through. Every inch of a cathedral has at least two levels of significance: aesthetic and theological. Beauty, in other words, walks hand in hand with a certain view of the world. Indeed, beauty is an essential part of this view of the world, and thus facts and feelings are blended together into one seamlessly intelligible whole: a philosophy made manifest in stone.
The situation that pertains today is quite different. It is not that our present view of the world is inherently less beautiful; but that the vital link between the visual arts and our view of the world has been severed. Apropos of this, I often think of one of Richard Feynman’s anecdotes. He once gave a tour of a factory to a group of artists, trying to explain modern technology to them. The artists, in turn, were supposed to incorporate what they learned into a piece for an exhibition. But, as Feynman notes, almost none of the pieces really had anything to do with the technology. Art and science had tried to make contact, and failed.
This is why I am so intrigued by the anatomical drawings of Santiago Ramón y Cajal. For here we see a successful unification, revealing the same duality of significance as in a cathedral: his drawings instruct and enchant at once.
Though relatively obscure in the anglophone world, Cajal is certainly one of the most important scientists of history. He is justly considered to be the father of neuroscience. Cajal’s research into the fine structures of the brain laid the foundation for the discipline. At a time when neurons were only a hypothesis, Cajal not only convinced the scientific world of their existence (as against the reticular theory), but documented several different types of neurons, describing their fine structure—nucleus, axon, and dendrites—and the flow of information within and between nerve cells.
As we can see in his Advice to a Young Investigator, Cajal in his adulthood became a passionate advocate for scientific research. But he did not always wish to be a scientist. As a child he was far more interested in painting; it was only the pressure of his father, a doctor, which turned him in the direction of research. And as this book shows, he never really gave up his artistic ambition; he only channelled it into another direction.
Research in Cajal’s day was far simpler. Instead of a team of scientists working with a high-powered MRI, we have the lonely investigator hunched over a microscope. The task was no easier for being simpler, however. Besides patience, ingenuity, and a logical mind—the traits of any good scientist—a microanatomist back then needed a prodigious visual acumen. The task was to see properly: to extract a sensible figure from the blurry and chaotic images under the microscope. To meet this challenge Cajal not only had to create new methods—staining the neurons to make them more visible—but to train his eye. And in both he proved a master.
He would often spend hours at the microscope, looking and looking without taking any notes. His analytic mind was not only at work during these periods, making guesses about cell functions and deductions about information flow, but also his visual imagination: he had to hold the cell’s form within his mind, see the cells in context and in isolation, since these fine details of structure were highly suggestive of their behavior and purpose. His drawings were the final expression of his visual process: “A graphic representation of the object observed guarantees the exactness of the observation itself.” For Cajal, as for Leonardo da Vinci, drawing was a form of thinking.
Though by now long outdated by subsequent research, Cajal’s drawings have maintained their appeal, both as diagrams and as works of art. With the aid of a short caption—ably provided by Eric Newman in this volume—the drawings spring to life as records of scientific research. They summarize complex processes, structures, and relations with brilliant clarity, making the essential point graspable in an instant.
Purely as drawings they are no less brilliant. The twisting and sprawling forms of neurons; the chaotic lattices of interconnected cells; the elegant architecture of our sensory organs—all this possesses an otherworldly beauty. The brain, such an intimate part of ourselves, is revealed to be intensely alien. One is naturally reminded of the surrealists by these dreamlike landscapes; and indeed Lorca and Dalí were both aware of Cajal’s work. Yet Cajal’s drawings are perhaps more fantastic than anything the surrealists ever produced, all the more bizarre for being true.
Even the names of these drawings wouldn't be out of place in a modern gallery: "Cuneate nucleus of a kitten," "Neurons in the midbrain of a sixteen-day-old trout," "Axons in the Purkinje neurons in the cerebellum of a drowned man." Science can be arrestingly poetic.
One of the functions of art is to help us to understand ourselves. The science of the brain, in a much different way, aims to do the same thing. It seems wholly right, then, that these two enterprises should unite in Cajal, the artistic investigator of our nervous system. And this volume is an ideal place to witness his accomplishment. The large, glossy images are beautiful. The commentary frames and explains, but does not distract. The essays on Cajal’s life and art are concise and incisive, and are supplemented by an essay on modern brain imaging that brings the book up to date. It is a cathedral of a book.
https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast...
____________________
Like the entomologist in pursuit of brightly colored butterflies, my attention hunted, in the flower garden of the gray matter, cells with delicate and elegant forms, the mysterious butterflies of the soul, the beating of whose wings may someday—who knows?—clarify the secret of mental life.
I love walking around cathedrals because they are sublime examples of vital art. I say "vital" because the art is not just seen, but lived through. Every inch of a cathedral has at least two levels of significance: aesthetic and theological. Beauty, in other words, walks hand in hand with a certain view of the world. Indeed, beauty is an essential part of this view of the world, and thus facts and feelings are blended together into one seamlessly intelligible whole: a philosophy made manifest in stone.
The situation that pertains today is quite different. It is not that our present view of the world is inherently less beautiful; but that the vital link between the visual arts and our view of the world has been severed. Apropos of this, I often think of one of Richard Feynman’s anecdotes. He once gave a tour of a factory to a group of artists, trying to explain modern technology to them. The artists, in turn, were supposed to incorporate what they learned into a piece for an exhibition. But, as Feynman notes, almost none of the pieces really had anything to do with the technology. Art and science had tried to make contact, and failed.
This is why I am so intrigued by the anatomical drawings of Santiago Ramón y Cajal. For here we see a successful unification, revealing the same duality of significance as in a cathedral: his drawings instruct and enchant at once.
Though relatively obscure in the anglophone world, Cajal is certainly one of the most important scientists of history. He is justly considered to be the father of neuroscience. Cajal’s research into the fine structures of the brain laid the foundation for the discipline. At a time when neurons were only a hypothesis, Cajal not only convinced the scientific world of their existence (as against the reticular theory), but documented several different types of neurons, describing their fine structure—nucleus, axon, and dendrites—and the flow of information within and between nerve cells.
As we can see in his Advice to a Young Investigator, Cajal in his adulthood became a passionate advocate for scientific research. But he did not always wish to be a scientist. As a child he was far more interested in painting; it was only the pressure of his father, a doctor, which turned him in the direction of research. And as this book shows, he never really gave up his artistic ambition; he only channelled it into another direction.
Research in Cajal’s day was far simpler. Instead of a team of scientists working with a high-powered MRI, we have the lonely investigator hunched over a microscope. The task was no easier for being simpler, however. Besides patience, ingenuity, and a logical mind—the traits of any good scientist—a microanatomist back then needed a prodigious visual acumen. The task was to see properly: to extract a sensible figure from the blurry and chaotic images under the microscope. To meet this challenge Cajal not only had to create new methods—staining the neurons to make them more visible—but to train his eye. And in both he proved a master.
He would often spend hours at the microscope, looking and looking without taking any notes. His analytic mind was not only at work during these periods, making guesses about cell functions and deductions about information flow, but also his visual imagination: he had to hold the cell’s form within his mind, see the cells in context and in isolation, since these fine details of structure were highly suggestive of their behavior and purpose. His drawings were the final expression of his visual process: “A graphic representation of the object observed guarantees the exactness of the observation itself.” For Cajal, as for Leonardo da Vinci, drawing was a form of thinking.
Though by now long outdated by subsequent research, Cajal’s drawings have maintained their appeal, both as diagrams and as works of art. With the aid of a short caption—ably provided by Eric Newman in this volume—the drawings spring to life as records of scientific research. They summarize complex processes, structures, and relations with brilliant clarity, making the essential point graspable in an instant.
Purely as drawings they are no less brilliant. The twisting and sprawling forms of neurons; the chaotic lattices of interconnected cells; the elegant architecture of our sensory organs—all this possesses an otherworldly beauty. The brain, such an intimate part of ourselves, is revealed to be intensely alien. One is naturally reminded of the surrealists by these dreamlike landscapes; and indeed Lorca and Dalí were both aware of Cajal’s work. Yet Cajal’s drawings are perhaps more fantastic than anything the surrealists ever produced, all the more bizarre for being true.
Even the names of these drawings wouldn't be out of place in a modern gallery: "Cuneate nucleus of a kitten," "Neurons in the midbrain of a sixteen-day-old trout," "Axons in the Purkinje neurons in the cerebellum of a drowned man." Science can be arrestingly poetic.
One of the functions of art is to help us to understand ourselves. The science of the brain, in a much different way, aims to do the same thing. It seems wholly right, then, that these two enterprises should unite in Cajal, the artistic investigator of our nervous system. And this volume is an ideal place to witness his accomplishment. The large, glossy images are beautiful. The commentary frames and explains, but does not distract. The essays on Cajal’s life and art are concise and incisive, and are supplemented by an essay on modern brain imaging that brings the book up to date. It is a cathedral of a book.
September 4, 2023
Exemplified by the life of Cajal and his research published in this book - I hope that I and more readers may appreciate the interplay between science and art.
October 28, 2024
Ramón y Cajal fue un genio al que debemos la teoría neuronal y todo el conocimiento derivado de ella. Supo ver lo que otros no veía y supo dibujarlo para dárnoslo a conocer. Este libro incluye sus dibujos con explicaciones sobre ellos, así como fotos de él y su familia y, por supuesto, su historia. Lo he disfrutado mucho.
May 13, 2020
As an art book it failed to catch my interest: very repetitive. The drawings simply were not intended as art, and that shows. This is not to play down Cajal's skills as a draftsman or scientist, not at all - it's just that, for me, these drawings don't do anything. Drab, boring to look at. A matter of taste, obviously.
As a science book on the brain, neurons and nerves, it is too fragmented to be of use. However, it should be of tremendous interest to students of the history of neuroscience.
More non-fiction reviews on Weighing A Pig Doesn't Fatten It
As a science book on the brain, neurons and nerves, it is too fragmented to be of use. However, it should be of tremendous interest to students of the history of neuroscience.
More non-fiction reviews on Weighing A Pig Doesn't Fatten It
January 23, 2018
Santiago Ramon y Cajal reminds us that science and art need not lead separate lives. Combining biography with drawings and discoveries made during his microscopic examination of cells, "The Beautiful Brain" reinforces how different disciplines working in tandem can enlighten and enlarge our view of the world, how just the gesture of a drawn line can convey meaning and understanding that lies beyond words.
And also: just the magic and awe of life: the sheer beauty of the way we are constructed and the way each part connects and combines.
And also: just the magic and awe of life: the sheer beauty of the way we are constructed and the way each part connects and combines.
April 9, 2018
The title says it all: it is a book filled with beautiful images. One cannot but contemplate in ecstasy the sublime ink & pen drawings of one of the most influential neuroscientists of all time. They do not only reflect the reality under the microscope but enhance it as well, removing all non-relevant stuff to focus on the structure of interest. That is scientific illustration at its best: enhancing what the eye sees, without distorting the facts underlying each image.
August 13, 2024
These are some of the most gorgeous drawings of the brain that I have seen. I really love that as much as it is a book about the brain, it is also a testament to the difficulty of scientific research and the labor of love that accompanies thousands of hours of detailed drawing and quiet observation. The drawings are not picturesque and are filled with crossed out lines and mistakes, but they really showcase Santiago Ramon y Cajal's attention to detail; he has a way of bringing the lifeless and boring to life. The drawings in this novel resemble beautiful trees more than anything else and really shows how integral artwork is in portraying anatomy! The brain is so so beautiful and this book does such a fantastic job of illustrating that! Rating: 5/5.
April 11, 2019
A gorgeous and mesmerizing look at Santiago Ramon Y Cajal’s drawings of the brain. A Noble Laureate and known as the father of neuroscience, Cajal was also an artist. I recently saw an exhibit of many of his original drawings; it was a treat to see them in person. Highly recommend this to anyone interested in neuroscience but also to anyone interested in scientific illustration and art. It’s simply beautiful.
September 24, 2025
The title says it all. Swanson does a great job at curating from Cajal's nearly 3000 drawings to put together a striking book blending art and science. With a few short explanatory sections and some bibliographic information, I am intrigued to read more of Cajal's own work to better understand one of the most brilliant minds. A great book for anyone interested in the brain or the art of science. No prior knowledge needed.
August 16, 2024
Una joya de libro. Me ha parecido impresionante de principio a fin, cómo explican de forma tan cercana los descubrimientos de Cajal acompañados de sus dibujos con una calidad brutal. Sin duda el maestro de la neurociencia, un orgullo para España y sin embargo se nos enseña muy poco de él en las escuelas e institutos.
5/5 ✨✨✨
5/5 ✨✨✨
November 2, 2021
Very refreshing to see art and science come together. The evolution and workings of the brain is a very complex matter that we still don’t know a lot about. Maybe that’s what keeps us going.
Other than that a fun factual book to read.
Other than that a fun factual book to read.
July 15, 2017
I didn't read so much as soak in the gorgeous illustrations of those magical pathways drawn by Santiago Ramón y Cajal.
October 13, 2019
This book is art as science, but the essays inside are formal and historical about neuroscience and the brain.
Read
May 24, 2020Absolutely beautiful.
May 17, 2021
A bit repetitive with the text and even the art but still interesting to see Cajals’ own drawn neurons and his history. Expected more science text.
December 22, 2023
A lovely and recommended read for any neurologist
December 30, 2024
A wonderful biography/collection of art/science book about an incredible man and his astonishing contributions to art, science, photography, staining, and neuroscience. It is criminal that more people dont know about Dr Ramon y Cajal, and if they did their jaws would drop
March 21, 2017
A great collection of SRyC's drawings - some never before published. There are also some beautiful modern images, including an astonishing one of mouse pyramidal cells from A. Wertz et al. Science 349[2015]: 70-74. The accompanying text is nothing special.
December 5, 2023
Ramon y Cajal is the father of Neuroscience. I saw his exhibit in NYU years ago and this book captures a lot of the work in the exhibit with more context added. Despite the drawings being around 100 years ago, if you go through this book you'll have enough introduction for Neuro 101. Ramon actually wanted to be an artist but his father made him do medicine. He combined art and science and the amount of sheer genius that went into using the Golgi staining methods to extrapolate the workings of Nerons creating the Neuronal Doctrine from the images he was seeing. He saw the trees in the forest but also the forests from a single tree that he drew. I feel the same amount of virtuosity from looking at Cajal's drawing of Purkinje Neurons that I get from Monet's painitngs. His sketches and diagrams of the brain that he translated from his microscope are STILL used to this day. I can't say enough about this book than also to pick up The Brain in Search of Itself by Ehrlich.
One of the best coffee table sized books I've had.
One of the best coffee table sized books I've had.
September 9, 2023
"When Cajal was about sixteen, his father made him his accomplice in grave robbing to obtain bones for medical anatomical study."
"Cajal stated in 1894, "The cerebral cortex is similar to a garden filled with innumerable trees, the pyramidal cells, which can multiply their branches thanks to intelligent cultivation, send their roots deeper, and produce more exquisite flowers and fruits every day."
"Cajal mused in his autobiography, "In our parks are there any trees more elegant and luxurious than the Purkinje cell from the cerebellum ...?" The Purkinje neuron was first observed by Jan Purkinje, the renowned Czech biologist, in 1837. Cajal studied and described these cells in great detail a half century later."
"Cajal stated in 1894, "The cerebral cortex is similar to a garden filled with innumerable trees, the pyramidal cells, which can multiply their branches thanks to intelligent cultivation, send their roots deeper, and produce more exquisite flowers and fruits every day."
"Cajal mused in his autobiography, "In our parks are there any trees more elegant and luxurious than the Purkinje cell from the cerebellum ...?" The Purkinje neuron was first observed by Jan Purkinje, the renowned Czech biologist, in 1837. Cajal studied and described these cells in great detail a half century later."
May 14, 2025
This book features several beautiful drawings of the brain by one of the most influential neuroscientists of the 19th/20th century. I think it once again shows that art and science are not so different after all, but just two different ways of looking at the world (or the brain, in this case) in awe.
February 12, 2025
Beautiful organic designs.
August 21, 2017
Beautiful drawings and informative essays. A must for any neuroscience buff's bookshelf!
Displaying 1 - 23 of 23 reviews