Self-medicating with art

Self-medicating with art 

On 11th July we participated in a discussion at The House of Lords about the value of arts and health, particularly our recent project The Homeless Library, supported by The Heritage Lottery. There is now a huge weight of evidence to show that arts and health projects have a powerful effect on the well-being and health of people who take part in them. However there is still a lot of concern about putting healthcare funding into arts and health. Here is the short presentation we contributed. 

Danny was sleeping on the street when we first met him. His fear of being around people held him at bay from the world. During the two years we gradually got to know him, Danny braved many fears, because the drive to make art was so strong. As he embraced poetry, he also embraced the company of others and began to address his difficulties. He said of this project: "It's put me back on the ladder to life."

Art allows public dialogue with the deeper private self. People share their deepest beliefs, feelings, fears, hopes. This is why artists make work and why people want to see/hear/read what they have to say. Making art can bring great satisfaction and community, in that sense it is healing. It is one of the best ways of communicating between human beings.

And for the individual? In our experience the safe space of art-making is similar to both therapy and childhood play. It brings joy, it brings insight.

The psychologist Polly Kaiser, who has written footnotes for The Homeless Library, observes that people can only change their lives using therapy if they have a safe place to do it. Homeless people by definition do not possess a safe place: therefore many of the stories they tell are of damage with no chance to heal.

The temporary place of safety that we've offered has been these discussions and particularly the making of art and poetry. The shared delight of the creative sessions was uplifting to witness. To offer people a short time away from fear, from addiction, from intimidation was perhaps the most valuable gift that we had to bring. The intensity of involvement was the intensity of people enjoying a rare and precious luxury. Self-expression is one of the deepest human needs, it defines identity, allows change and brings joy. It was what we gave, in fair exchange for their honesty.

Lawrence is a man who grew up witnessing extreme violence, as a child he was malnourished and ate dog food. Now, instead of self-medicating with continual substance abuse he writes poetry and grows a garden. He self-medicated with art. He says of making art and gardening at The Booth Centre: "There is genius in everyone and (this) has the ability to bring it out. I was a piece of detritus on the street and they found the gold-winning, cup-winning me. I was excrement and I found the garden, from excrement to compost."

Detail from the current South Bank Exhibition.

The Arts and Public Health Round Table was hosted by the All Party Parliamentary Group on Arts, Health and Wellbeing. It was one in a series of round tables in which practitioners, academics, policy makers, those with lived experience and managers of services are invited to share their knowledge and experience with parliamentarians. The information gathered will be used to inform policy recommendations for the Inquiry into Arts, Health and Wellbeing. Find out more about the APPG and Inquiry here: www.artshealthandwellbeing.org.uk/appg


FREE ebook. Yours for a limited time, The Homeless Library ebook, with insights into the lives and experiences of Britain's homeless, including art and poetry.
http://www.blurb.co.uk/ebooks/586385-the-homeless-library

The Homeless Library project is supported by the Heritage Lottery Fund

Feeling

The arthur+martha exhibition 'the warm /&/ the cold', textiles and textworks by homeless people, is at the Holden Gallery, Manchester Metropolitan University until 25 January 2013.

Second of a 2-part blog

Philip writes:

(We were showing a group of homeless people around an exhibition of their own work at Manchester Metropolitan University...)

We moved onto the big pieces, the textiles. Here are fragments of stories, the lives of homeless people, embroidered onto quilts and painted on ceramics, often by the tellers themselves. They are responses to simple questions - which don’t have simple answers. When were you warm? When were you cold?

The group had only seen the pieces as little scraps of cloth, not sewn together into the large, communal artworks that they'd now become. They'd come in from a bitterly cold day and were suffering from the bite of winter. But as they warmed in the space, they also warmed up to the work. We started to hear expressions of delight, of pride.

People talked about being physically cold, but also emotional warmth: 'The atmospherte, people's handiwork, people's hearts. The art makes it homely in here. It's real. Makes it homely when people pour their hearts out. I feel relaxed and I'm not usually, I'm usually on edge...' (Maureen)

From shepherding a little group of - what felt to me - very fragile people we were suddenly in the presence of artists. They expanded to fit the role, the room - relaxing in the sofas by the artworks and chatting about the meaning of it all, the FEELING of being a maker. The project was devised to help people develop new skills, socialise and build confidence - and in this moment that was precisely what it achieved.

Volunteer student helpers from the Embroidery and MA Textiles Department at Manchester Metropolitan University also helped to stitch the work and made quilts in reply. Volunteers from the Women's Institute additionally lent their needles and expertise. 

The project challenges stereotypes about homelessness, combating hate crime against homeless people and emphasizing needs shared by us all – especially shelter and acceptance. Lines from the denim quilt are currently being shown as text animations by the BBC, on Big Screens in Manchester and Liverpool. 

To find out more, follow these links:

http://www.citylife.co.uk/news_and_reviews/news/10020967_stitches_timely_for_winter__hard_hitting_reminder_of_life_on_the_streets

http://www.artscouncil.org.uk/news/arts-council-news/Exhibition-tells-story-about-life-on-the-streets-of-Manchester/

Holocaust: memorial and forgetting

We first showed the animated textwork BRING LIGHT TOWARDS YOU at Piccadilly Railway Station in Manchester on Holocaust Memorial Day 2009. The piece is made of short poetic texts, memory fragments – they describe train journeys, recollected by holocaust survivors. This year, the BBC offered to run the whole sequence of ten 30-second films on their Big Screen in The Triangle, the posh heart of Manchester shopping. It felt like a strange and interesting juxtaposition, we agreed, on a busy English street (around 50000 people walk past everyday) next to a sign saying The Triangle.

The piece will be on view for ten days in all, dotted amongst news and weather reportage, trailers for the London Olympics and a smatter of other little experimental films. Some of BRING LIGHT TOWARDS YOU couldn't be shown at the railway station in 2009 - a reference to people throwing themselves on electric fences, for instance - so this is a first for the complete set. If you've time, go see. It's the oddest, saddest thing to be surrounded by the iconography of comfort-thru-shopping and at the same to be told 'RUN' 'ESCAPE' 'THE SS' – the signs whispering a past that's far beyond our normal edges.

For a long while I stopped reading about the holocaust: it gave off such hopelessness. Not only were the events themselves staggering acts of brutality, any attempt by me to reconcile them with understanding, let alone optimism, completely failed. The history makes a piece like BRING LIGHT TOWARDS YOU a shadow of a shadow. How can you understand this? Perhaps for most of us Holocaust Memorial is only ever a gesture of sympathy, rather than empathy.

When Lois and I went to photograph the piece on Holocaust Memorial Day this year, the air was ice – a viciously cold morning. People hunched by, deep in their coats. The jagged little war-stories onscreen seemed utterly out of place, like dreams. I thought about one of the holocaust survivors we worked with, a woman with profound memory lapses. She had been in Auschwitz, alongside her sister. The girls couldn't acknowledge one another; to do so would have meant one of them being killed. The guards wouldn't allow support networks like family to exist in the camps. So she became used to burying the truth. Decades later, this woman would have intense moments of lucidity while she worked with us and details of her experience would flare. But even as she revisited her memories, they erased themselves, a kind of self-anaesthetic.

I remember her saying: “I was there. I was in a camp...” and the rest of it was excised from her own mind before the next sentence was out of her mouth.

(Sections from BRING LIGHT TOWARDS YOU are shown approximately every half hour on the BBC Big Screen at The Triangle in Exchange Square, Manchester UK. There is seating directly opposite the screen, the piece is also visible from the cafes in Selfridges and Next. The 10 day run started on 27th January 2011. See also flickr site images from 2009 and 2011 at http://www.flickr.com

Paracetamol Soup

Our exhibition 'Paracetamol Soup' is about to finish its run at Central Library, Manchester. We've been really pleased with the reactions its received, and local press coverage and national with The Guardian newspaper. I've just been sent a collection of photos of the exhibition, which I have posted up on our flickr site. You can view at http://www.flickr.com/photos/arthur-and-martha/ for more photos of the collection, click on the Paracetamol Soup set.

How to recycle junk mail?

Friday afternoon was spent discussing the season Spring and its associated subjects- hope, birth, re-awaking… after creating a short group poem, we created some ‘artist books’ using recycled junk mail envelopes. These where illustrated with bluebells, using a simple printing technique. The resulting images are sometimes cheeky, sometimes touching mix of hand written and typed text, bluebell printing and envelope…

On a HM Revenue & Customs envelope, you can just make out the handwritten text ‘There is good and bad, there is good and bad…’ A letter from the Houses of Common, has been printed with bluebells… Self Assessment envelope with the hand written text ‘Do the best that you….”

Two of the group where German born Jewish women, they reminisced throughout the session, mixing memories of spring time bluebells (their German name ‘Glockenblume’) cut with moving stories of anti-Semitism. For so many people we work with here, even the most innocent conversations are interwoven with dark memories- they never can forget.

We where joined by Jean Lally, who was on her first session volunteering for us. She was a wonderful asset to the group, and said of the session “I liked the way that the lady next to me changed in mood over the session, from sadness to a delight in what was going on, and I found your feedback arresting, incorporating both moods in such a striking way.” I look forward to working with her again. Our volunteers, training schemes and student placements are invaluable, allowing us to go deeper into subject matters and artistic techniques by working one-to-one with participants who may otherwise miss out due to lack of hearing, shyness or other physical or mental obstacles.

Photo © Lois Blackburn, for more please visit our on-line portfolio at http://flickr.com/photos/arthur-and-martha/

coming to life again

‘Trees, flowers, anything like that,
Mere sight excites you…

…it pours through your body

Squirm
God am coming to life again.’


One woman at the Jewish care home spoke so fluently about feeling better. Her words created such a clear picture that it left me wondering what she was coming back from. This subtly hints at horrors that could have been, but still leaves huge clouds of uncertainty. There is a belief that silences speak so much about the Holocaust as words can’t ever fully describe the horror. But can our imaginations really fill in the gaps, and are silences there just so that we don’t have to hear it?

On a personal note, I noticed my own hesitation when talking to the people from the Jewish care home. When asking questions about spring and feeling better, I felt myself pulling back. I automatically assumed that their past contained something horrific and created this huge hurdle that stood between me and who ever I spoke to as I hide in the silences. Before I even knew anything about them, my own uncertainty around how I would respond to what I might hear, created a barrier and distance between us that just compounded the difficulty.

Writing this I don’t seem to have a beginning or an end around what I’ve written, just a lot of questions.

Anneke Kuipers.

Holocaust Memorial Day 2009

Last week, on the 27th of January, we marked Holocaust Memorial Day, with animated text/art on the electronic billboards at Piccadilly Train Station Manchester.

After 2 sleepless nights and many many days of work and anxiety we at last showed our highest profile artworks to date. This project has been fraught with difficulties, responsibilities but above all its been an honour to work on. There was a constant battle between creating a living memorial to the memories and words of the wonderful people we have met, with the pulls and pushes of the demanding politics of placing a Holocaust Memorial in such a high profile space.

With the news from Israel and Gaza, everyday brings great hurt, anger, confusion and resentment. Sadly this seems to impact for some people on their responses to the very notion of a Holocaust Memorial Day.

For me the day was about separating the current events, and honouring the lives and memories of the people we have worked with and become friends with. A group of the authors, the older Jewish people who had provided the words and inspiration for the text/art came to the station to view the artwork. This was the highlight of the day for me. Never sitting still, I took photos, Phil gathered responses. I am very proud of what we have achieved, the text/art stood out amongst the hustle and bustle of the busy station.

55,000 passengers per day use the station! We where written about by the BBC http://www.bbc.co.uk/manchester/content/articles/2009/01/26/270109_holocaust_poems_feature.shtml in the Metro and Evening News. The Jewish Telegraph and The Jewish Cronicle, and http://www.writeoutloud.net We have had many individuals give us wonderful feedback, and the Holocaust Memorial Trust said ‘this is fantastic.’ and that ‘we’re so impressed with the work you have done for HMD09’.

There is so much to reflect on I will be thinking about the day and the lead up for a long while yet. For photos of the event please visit http://www.flickr.com/photos/arthur-and-martha/

This project would not have been possible without our Funding for Kindness which was provided by the Clore Duffield Foundation, through Sparks: The Clore Jewish Development Fund.

The art of hearing aids

'There is a great art in using hearing aids,' Barbara commented at the beginning of this session. It's true: the things are a miracle of electronic engineering, but they squall and squeak through many of our gatherings like disgruntled babies.

One of the sadnesses of growing old is the isolation that can result - and bad hearing exaggerates this, drops the sufferer into an aquarium of muffled noise and looming faces whose words are lost in swirling tinnitus - another of the sadnesses of growing old is that the voices of older people are often ignored - seen but not heard, and not hearing.

This Friday we felt that we owed it to to the group to do a lighter session - the holocaust-related material is heartbreaking and heavy to carry week on week - so in order to find a lighter subject, we talked about light itself - a cutup of the conversation is to be found on this blog, titled the bedeken.

The subject came from the kabbalic A poem for the Sefirot as a wheel of light by Naftali Bacharach, the result of dipping the magnificent Poems for the Millenium vol 1 edited by Rothenberg and Joris (met Jerry Rothenberg awhile ago at dinner with Tony and Sue Trehy, but of that another time) - was delighted to find a concrete-ish poem form that dates from ways back and another older tradition than that of Dada and Noigandres - and so we talked about light and we made sure that everyone was heard.

Although Pat did have a snooze.

Friday 17th October

A great session, some revealing reminiscences shared, some poignant poetry made, Phil will be putting finishing touches to next week….

Our best wishes are for Joyce, who we had the privilege to interview a few weeks back. She had a fall last week and is quite poorly. We all hope she is feeling better soon.

Jewish stories of survival

Yesterday at the Morris Feinmann Home, Phil and I met and interviewed four truly remarkable Jewish people, Joyce, Gisela, Sonja and Ad. I find it hard to put into words the effect meeting them had on me. Three spent their childhoods in Germany and lived through and felt the dreadful effects of the rise of Hitler. With eloquent tales of horror, of the concentration camps, of fear, of hatred, of escape and acts of braveness and kindness, they told their stories. The events have affected all four of them so deeply, and yet they are prepared to share their stories in the hope of ‘never again’. I felt honoured and privileged to meet them.

August 29th

This was an impeccably planned session – a truly exquisite plan, which Lois and I were very proud of – however the session itself was something of a wreck. But it’s always been the way that workshops are subject to the vagaries of life – and vague is exactly what this one became. It was a hot, airless day so all around the table – Myra, Joan, Susie, Peggy and Pat – were drooping before we started. Pat in fact fell in and out of a doze. However we rallied a little and Susie made an interesting piece, a life fragment of a refugee, and Myra hit a good streak towards the end, conjuring a powerful poem about losing her sight.

The session was built around notions of containing memory – could you put your memories in a box? – what are both your memory-delights and fears? It was a derivative of a very well-known poem writing exercise, but with a twist – the tip from light to dark being the axis of the poem, the drop from heaven to hell. And the debate – can a memory be compartmentalised anyway, or is it a functioning part of the whole person?

We were ably assisted by Peter, who is always a pleasure to work with and has an excellent dry humour. We are always interested to see what his latest hair colour will be.