Scientia canadensis最新文献

As obesity clearly becomes an epidemic disease, surgery has emerged as its only effective treatment. In the Western World, bariatric surgery is gaining favor, and the number of practitioners rises as rapidly as that of patients. But the recent success of an admittedly radical therapy tends to hide the fact that it faced considerable resistance in its early years, when many physicians considered the practice suspect, if not outright dangerous. In 1980, after 25 years of experimental research, and above all, after an initial attempt to introduce the practice into the clinic, obesity surgery, reducible to mainly one single procedure, the jejunoileal bypass, was widely abandoned. This general failure of a surgical technique, with the arguments that commanded it, is the subject of the present article.

This paper explores the architecture of the Mount Sinai Sanatorium in Sainte-Agathe-des-Monts (Qc) to disentangle the role of religion in the treatment of tuberculosis. In particular, we analyze the design of Mount Sinai, the jewel in the crown of Jewish philanthropy in Montreal, in relation to that of the nearby Laurentian Sanatorium. While Mount Sinai offered free treatment to the poor in a stunning, Art Deco building of 1930, the Protestant hospital had by then served paying patients for more than two decades in a purposefully home-like, Tudor-revival setting. Using architectural historian Bernard Herman's concept of embedded landscapes, we show how the two hospitals differed in terms of their relationship to site, access, and, most importantly, to city, knowledge, and community. Architects Scopes & Feustmann, who designed the Laurentian hospital, operated an office at Saranac Lake, New York, America's premier destination for consumptives. The qualifications of Mount Sinai architects Spence & Goodman, however, derived from their experience with Jewish institutions in Montreal. Following Herman's approach to architecture through movement and context, how did notions of medical therapy and Judaism intersect in the plans of Mount Sinai?

Built in 1850, the Toronto Provincial Asylum was once the largest mental hospitals in Canada. The main building was demolished in 1975, and the property is now home to the Queen Street branch of the Centre for Addiction and Mental Health. Although there are remnants of the nineteenth-century institution, including most of the perimeter wall, the only lasting visual reminder of the property as a whole is a small group of images. By the last quarter of the nineteenth century, perhaps in order to ease public concern over the increasingly custodial function of the institution, Victorian media sources repeatedly presented an unchanging or immutable depiction of the Toronto Asylum. Drawing upon the architectural concept drawings of the 1840s, which contained an ideal vision for the building, pictures from the 1870s, 80s and 90s depict the asylum as the new, clean, and proud-looking structure it was when it opened. Arguably, these images are what the Victorian public wanted to see: they preserved the early-century optimism that such institutions would yield high cure rates and they supported the view that the care of the mentally ill belonged in the hands of the medical profession.

This paper focuses on Montreal's Drummond Medical Building (1929), designed by the well-known architectural firm of Nobbs & Hyde, as a case study of the new typology that emerged in urban Canada in the 1920s: a modern, purpose-built high-rise for healthcare professionals, with elevators, telephones, indoor parking, and retail shops, located in an upscale commercial district. What role did medical high-rises play in the practice of modern medicine? We speculate that these clinics marked the end of the house-office era across Canada, centralizing the practice of healthcare professionals. This CIHR-funded project illustrates complex social and physical networks among architects and doctors, drawing attention to the importance of studying architecture as a technology in the history of modern medicine.

This article aims to elucidate and analyze the links between science, specifically natural history, and the imperialist project in what is now the northwestern United States and western Canada. Imperialism in this region found its expression through institutions such as the Hudson's Bay Company (HBC). I examine the activities of naturalists such as David Douglas and William Tolmie Fraser in the context of the fur trade in the Columbia Department. Here I show how natural history aided Britain in achieving its economic and political goals in the region. The key to this interpretation is to extend the role of the HBC as an imperial factor to encompass its role as a patron for natural history. This gives a better understanding of the ways in which imperialism--construed as mercantile, rather than military--delineated research priorities and activities of the naturalists who worked in the Columbia Department.

The Women's Art Association of Canada marked the 400th anniversary of John Cabot's "discovery" of Canada (celebrated in 1897) through the production of the "Canadian Historic Dinner Service." The high-profile project, which resulted in a set of hand-painted porcelain dinnerware, was a celebration not only of nation-building, but also of the natural history of the country. Visual reference material provided to the women selected to create the individual pieces included photographs, natural history texts, and illustrations that W.H. Bartlett produced for Canadian Scenery earlier in the century. This article explores this visual reinterpretation of Canada's natural history in order to raise questions about how a recontextualization of scientific material shapes narratives of nation and nature in the 'New World'.

Much has been written of the Columbian exchange, the transfer between New World and Old of people, pathogens, flora and fauna. The biota of two hemispheres, once seemingly irredeemably separated, were interpenetrated, both through accident and through human agency. Part of this exchange involved medicinal and food plants, discovered in the New World and adopted into the Old. This paper examines the translation of a number of New World plants that were part of the 'Cartierian' or 'Champlinian' exchange that followed the voyages to North America by Jacques Cartier (1491-1557) between 1534 and 1541, and the explorations and settlements undertaken by Samuel de Champlain (1580?-1635) from 1603 to his death at Quebec in 1635. During this period, a number of North American plants were propagated in European nurseries and even found their way into everyday use in gardens or kitchens. How were these new plants viewed on their introduction and how were they incorporated into Europe's "vegetable" consciousness? Where did these new plants fit in the classification of the edible and the exotic?