Interview: Dr. Francois Lukes, a Pediatric Surgeon, Artist, and Visionary Medical Educator

I first met Dr. Luks a few years ago online when I came across his brilliant book, Medspeak Illustrated. For a long time, I searched for a way to understand the link between medical illustration and visual communication, and his book was precisely what I was looking for.

Dr. Luks is a Pediatric Surgeon at Brown University, but his talents extend far beyond the operating room. He’s woven art into his medical career in powerful ways: teaching illustration workshops to medical students, leading comics workshops, speaking at TEDx, and collaborating with students at Brown and the Rhode Island School of Design to create an innovative course on medical illustration. He’s even developing a new program specifically designed to help surgeons learn to draw as a tool for clearer communication.

When Dr. Luks invited me to guest lecture in his medical illustration course at Brown University, I was genuinely honored and even more excited to meet someone who felt like a true kindred spirit. We instantly clicked, discovering just how much we had in common.

MedSpeak Illuminated, a book about medical illustration. Interview
MedSpeak Illuminated book and Dr. Luks and me in Providence, RI

His work is thoughtful, generous, and deeply human. I’m thrilled to share this interview with the wonderfully talented and visionary Dr. Francois Luks. Please enjoy!

Bio:

I am a pediatric surgeon by trade, and have been at the same institution since 1994: the Alpert Medical School of Brown University in Providence, Rhode Island. Through sheer longevity and the departure of others, I am now the chief of the Division of Pediatric Surgery and Pediatric Surgeon-in-Chief at Hasbro Children’s.

I am a native of Antwerp, Belgium, where I went to medical school. We (my wife and I – we met in medical school) moved to New York for residency, a bold move in the era of pyramidal training programs, long before the Bell commission and the 80-hour week. This was followed by a fellowship in pediatric surgery in Montreal, and an obligatory return to Belgium for two years before we were allowed to apply for a work visa and a green card in the U.S.

Best place to follow you:

www.rhodeside.art on the web; @francoisluks on X (but who knows for how much longer? Even serious media, one of the main reasons to be on the platform, have jumped ship); @rhodeside.art on instagram and @francoisluks.bsky.social on bluesky

Can you tell us more about your story?

I have always loved to draw, and I loved comics as a kid – my heroes probably don’t mean much to an American audience, but Belgium and France were (and still are) famous for comic book and graphic novel artists: I admired Alexis, Goscinny and Uderzo (Asterix), Pétillon, Jean Giraud (who also signed as GIR and Moebius), and most of all Marcel Gotlib, whose style and humor I tried to copy in my early attempts – and I was in awe of the political caricatures of Ricord, Morchoisne and Mulatier, whose style I also tried to emulate.

I even made it as far as having a daily comic strip in several Belgian newspapers in my senior year of medical school; it paid the rent and put food on the table for that last year before we moved to the States, after which I passed it on to a friend: a surgical residency was not compatible with the stress of coming up with daily ideas for the funny pages.

One of two daily comic strips that ran in several Belgian newspapers from 1981 to 1983, in black and white, and then weekly in a People-like magazine for a few years more. The key had been to create an easy-to-draw strip: the hardest part was obviously to come up with ideas for daily jokes, and I needed to draw the comic as quickly as possible to meet the newspaper’s deadline

Instead, I began drawing surgical operations and specific moves I learned from my attendings – my own little surgical atlas. That morphed into illustrations for my first few scientific publications. Friends and colleagues took note, and asked me to make medical illustrations for their research. Decades later, I now have a pretty decent portfolio, most of it pen-and-ink line drawings.

Medical Illustration
A representative example of my pen-and-ink medical illustrations. Here, the difference between an adult trachea and a neonatal one: in adults, the narrowest portion of the larynx are the vocal cords, which is why an endotracheal tube needs a stabilizing cuff (balloon); in small children, the cricoid cartilage, which is round in cross-section, is the narrowest point, obviating the need for a cuff.

My medical trajectory led me from general to pediatric surgery, and a detour into endoscopic (minimally invasive) fetal surgery, from the early days of laboratory research to a clinical program in fetal surgery that is celebrating its 25th anniversary this year.

Medical illustration
My “pen-and-ink” illustrations are now all digital, which also allows airbrush-style shading (here, a posterior view of the pancreas and the duodenum, and the technique for a successful subclavian vein catheterization)

And then, about 12 years ago, a medical student at Brown found out about my past as a closet illustrator and asked me to lead a workshop in medical illustration for first-year students. This 2-hour session gradually morphed into a preclinical elective, and now a full-semester course for undergraduate students at Brown and the Rhode Island School of Design.

What grew organically as a hobby that I loved sharing with kindred medical spirits is gradually evolving into a goal in itself, as I am slowly aging out of my clinical career. I have given grand rounds, after-dinner talks and named lectures on the subject, and have greatly enjoyed seeing former students establishing their own course at their medical schools and residency programs.

A spin-off of the course in medical illustration I teach has been a workshop on medical comics – a new trend in narrative medicine. Each spring semester, we mentor a handful of undergraduate students as they go from idea to full-page, printer-ready comic, which they then often successfully submit for publication (here, here and here are a few examples). This has inspired me to revisit my first love, this time as a senior surgeon.

How often do you create? Does it relieve stress from your job?

This is highly variable. I am always doodling, and the more I practice and hone my skills, the more I realize how much more I want to try: new techniques, new media, new styles…

For many years, the majority of my illustrations were an extension of my clinical or research work. Drawing was not so much a way to relieve stress from my job; rather, work was a great excuse to draw.

About 15 years ago, I (re)discovered watercolor -– what I call my very cheap midlife crisis: all I needed was the corner of a table, a little water and an inexpensive watercolor set. I know most artists agree that watercolor is very difficult, because it is so unforgiving (the water, paper and colors decide what it will look like, and you cannot easily correct your mistakes). But the satisfaction of rendering exactly what you meant by the lucky blending of colored droplets is so worth it. I imagine that that is why golfers continue to play, despite all the missed shots: once in a while, it is perfect, and you get the illusion that you are getting better.

When is your favorite time to create/what’s your process?

My absolute favorite time to create, paint or draw is when I really should be doing something else. It is more an issue of procrastination than stress relief, I guess – but the end result is the same. As children, we are told to do the unpleasant things first: eat your vegetables before you get dessert. My philosophy is now the opposite: have your desert first. Do what is easy or pleasurable first; that way, you’ll get at least something done, and by the time you’re ready to tackle the unpleasant things, some of them may no longer be needed.

Who are your favorite artists?

Contemporary artists I admire the most and – consciously or not – aim to emulate are Malika Favre (brilliant graphic designer and illustrator), Christop Niemann (inventive illustrator who has done a lot of work for the New Yorker, and who has a TED talk on visual communication worth watching), and – in the field of medical illustration, Ian Suk, Veronica Falconieri Hays, Peter Lawrence, and so many others.

Toots Thielemans (1978) – the most (only?) famous Belgian Jazz musician (preeminent harmonica player, guitarist and whistler; played with all the greats, like Oscar Peterson, Ella Fitzgerald, Dizzy Gillespie, Path Metheny and so many more. His signature piece was Bluesette); one of many caricatures in the style of the masters of the day (Morchoisne, Ricor and Mulatier, for Pilote, then the leading French comics magazine)

What is your favorite medium (ink, digital, paint, etc) and subject matter?

I don’t have a favorite subject matter, and I have a short attention span: in other words, I’m game for anything and will try many different styles (and my role models change often) – but I have a hard time not finishing something in one go. A watercolor of an animal, a tree or a forest? Sure! But a herd of animals or hundreds of individual leaves? I rapidly lose interest… (Of course, that is not always the case: I managed to paint three and a half pomegranates once, as shown here).

My very own (and very cheap) midlife crisis: watercolors. Yes, it can be frustrating – but boy, is it gratifying when it works!

As I mentioned, digital has taken over, and I have really enjoyed exploring a lot of different “media,” from airbrush to gouache, from pencil to charcoal, and even digital oil painting and watercolor. That last one is not fully satisfying, although digital brushes for watercolor are getting better. Still, that is the last thing I still do with actual water and actual paint (other than ballpoint or fountain pen doodling, all the time and everywhere)

For the past 5 years, I have been doing almost everything on a tablet; ProCreate is a cheap and simple-to-use app that has revolutionized digital drawing and painting (even professional illustrators are starting to use it). You can also animate the layers, and I’ve had a lot of fun with that (the process is a marvel of modern technology, and yet it is painstakingly old-fashioned: redrawing the same image over and over again, each time with the slightest change, at a rate of 24 frames per second)

What would be your dream project?

I was briefly asked to turn an entire wall in the hospital into a giant composite of my Rhodeside Attractions, which would have been very cool (the project was aborted). I would like to learn oil painting (I have dabbled in it once, decades ago), but that may have to wait until my actual retirement. On a larger, conceptual level, my current dream project is coming to fruition: For several years, I tried to convince Brown and RISD that a graduate program in medical illustration would be a natural, given our two prestigious schools (there are currently only 4 such graduate programs in the US); alas, no dice. But then, I realized that we can still offer a medical illustration opportunity, even without teaching it: we are now starting a Studio at Rhode Island Hospital for anyone (faculty, clinicians, researchers, as well as outside clients) who needs professional medical illustrations; we now have a team of 3 talented, certified medical illustrators (Emily Slapin, Lauren Lake and Raisa Rodriguez Maldonado), as well as students (from my course) who may be interested in an internship and can work on projects, supervised by the faculty. We will put Rhode Island Hospital (and Hasbro Children’s) on the medical illustration map!

As I was exploring my new digital illustration app, I created a series of doodles about typical sites in Rhode Island, which I (naturally) dubbed Rhodeside Attractions. I turned them into notecards and prints, and the profits go to support Hasbro Children’s

Do you have any advice for creatives who work in the medical field?

Visual artists are often individualists: we create our work in isolation, even if we end up sharing it with others. For years, I kept my doodling to myself (until I was outed by that medical student a decade ago), thinking I was an aberration. But I have heard that same story from several doctors-creators now, and I have discovered that many of us physicians and other healthcare professionals have artistic side-hustles. I am not really in a position to give advice to anyone, but I do have an opinion: medicine and art are not different parts of one’s personality; they work together, and feed each other. Visual art is visual communication, which makes us better, more compassionate, more communicative doctors. We can use our skills to teach, to explain, to translate; we can use our creativity in thinking outside the box, when a disease is not exactly following the textbook course, or an operation needs to be tweaked to fit a particular patient. And of course, art (visual or not) can be the antidote to burn-out. In any medical career, there will be times when a singular focus on work is inevitable (I see you, interns and residents). It’s ok to prioritize, but do not completely repress your creativity; keep it at low on the back burner, until you get a little more time. But keep at it, it will help you keep your sanity. (This goes for any other hobby or interest, of course: music, sports, dance…) Just know that there are a lot of people like you in medicine, and tapping into your artistic side does not diminish your Cartesian, scientific, rigorous, professional self.

Did you enjoy this interview? Click below to read more interviews with other medical creatives….

Interview with Pathologist and Collagist, Dr. Laura Tafe

An ER Doctor’s Creative Interpretation of Inktober

Interview with Surgeon and Children’s Book Illustrator Dr. Maria Baimas-George

Interview with Anesthesiology Resident and Creative, Dr. Sumana Mahata


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