The Return of the Missing Portrait
.webp)
It was in 1938 that Dr. Dorothy Andersen, a pioneering pathologist first identified cystic fibrosis. But in the intervening years her role was all but forgotten. Even the portrait commissioned in 1963 after her death to commemorate her contributions disappeared from Babies Hospital in New York where she had worked. Until we came along.
For us, this lost portrait became a symbol of how easily women’s contributions can fade from institutional memory.
Dr. Andersen’s story was the spark that ignited the The Lost Women of Science Initiative. In our inaugural podcast season, “The Pathologist in the Basement,” we honored Dr. Andersen’s contributions by sharing her story.
The impact of her work and her life resonated so deeply with us and our listeners that a follow-up season, Revisiting the Pathologist in the Basement, was launched to highlight her legacy and the advancements in the treatment of cystic fibrosis.
We also wanted to solve the mystery of her missing portrait.
Dr. Andersen’s portrait, painted by the renowned artist Frank Slater, was originally displayed in the entrance of Babies Hospital (now Morgan Stanley Children’s Hospital of New York) in upper Manhattan. The painting depicted her in a dark suit, with a book in hand and a look of intense focus, capturing both her intellect and her quiet strength.
When the hospital underwent several renovations, the portrait vanished. Dr. Scott Baird, a Columbia physician and Andersen’s biographer, tried hard to find it, but after several visits to different hospital buildings, he came up empty-handed. All this was captured in Episode 3 of our original podcast.
In Revisiting the Pathologist in the Basement, Baird’s search takes him once again through the halls of the hospital, where portraits of other medical figures hang, but none of them are women.
This absence of female representation – when we know there were women doing great work in all fields of science – has been dubbed the “dude wall phenomenon.” It highlights how institutional walls can shape our understanding of history, and how easily women’s contributions are erased from the spaces where their work was done because their portraits are so rarely hung.
As an intern with Lost Women of Science and as an undergraduate at Barnard College, which is so close to the hospital where Dr. Andersen worked, her story resonated deeply with me. Here was a woman whose legacy had not only been lost in the literal sense but also in the figurative sense. Listening to the season, I was struck by how her work, while foundational to the understanding and treatment of cystic fibrosis, had not been properly memorialized at the very institution where she had both made her discovery and dedicated over 30 years of her career.
Then we got some great news. A new portrait of Dr. Andersen had been commissioned by Dr. Jordan Scott Orange, chair of pediatrics at Columbia University College of Physicians and Surgeons and physician-in-chief at NewYork-Presbyterian/Morgan Stanley Children’s Hospital.
The oil painting, signed by an artist with the initials "J.C.", was inspired by an image provided by the Lost Women of Science podcast team. I had to go see it. I visited the hospital, hoping to further explore Dr. Andersen’s legacy.
I quickly learned how challenging it can be to navigate a sprawling hospital sprawling campus. After passing through security and the maze of hallways and waiting rooms, I finally reached the 17th floor and the Department of Pediatrics. And there, just beyond a waiting room and double doors, I found myself at a reception desk, where I saw it: Dr. Andersen’s portrait. It was a surreal moment.
Despite the decades that had passed since a portrait was first hung in her honor, her presence on that wall felt like a quiet acknowledgment of her monumental impact.
The area around the portrait also featured other portraits of prominent figures connected to the hospital, including Dr. Sylvia Griffiths, a surgeon who founded Columbia’s Division of Pediatric Cardiology and worked with Dr. Andersen. The display of these women together felt like a small but significant statement in an otherwise male-dominated medical history. It also underscored how important it is to preserve and honor the contributions of women who shaped the course of science and medicine.
As a student, I remain inspired by Dr. Andersen’s story. Her work not only changed the lives of countless cystic fibrosis patients but also paved the way for future medical advancements, including the discovery of the CF gene and today’s new life-saving treatments. Her legacy continues to live on in the progress made in the field of cystic fibrosis, and I’m proud to contribute, in my small way, to bringing her story to light.
