content warning: discussions of mental illness

“Schizophrenia?”
“What?” my brother asked, starting to panic; I could see his hands shaking.
“Schizophrenia,” the man repeated. “Do you paint?”
His anxiety skyrocketing, my brother, again, only managed a confused “What?”
The man smiled, obviously trying to put my brother at ease. “Schizophrenics are amazing painters.”
Protectively, I jumped in: “No. He doesn’t paint.”
“Ah well,” the man cheerily replied.

Despite the 20 per cent of the Australian population that has been diagnosed, mental illness is still widely misunderstood. While psychiatric practices and general acceptance of disorders have greatly improved over the past several decades, those who have been labelled as ‘mentally ill’ still suffer ridicule and discrimination—even in seemingly positive ways, like in the interaction above. This is particularly prevalent for those who suffer from less common mental illnesses such as schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, post-traumatic stress disorder, not to mention dissociative identity disorder. The stigmas attached to these disorders still hang heavy in the air. Access to public resources is limited and difficult, especially for those who survive on government payments.

The system is broken.

Given this lack of governmental support, how then does the 80 per cent of the population not affected by mental illness develop their understanding of it? Unfortunately, the answer is usually popular culture—specifically film and television. I say ‘unfortunately’ because the media’s portrayal of mental health issues is often problematic, and sometimes downright offensive. If popular culture is to be believed, it is common practice for those with schizophrenia to have walls covered in newspaper and red string, and the majority of those with dissociative identity disorder to have at least one personality that is a serial killer. There is, however, one portion of our community that has long had a positive relationship with mental health. That is, the visual arts.

The benefit of art as therapy has been explored by professionals for a century. Initially, the process of analysing artworks was used as a diagnostic tool by doctors. While this still occurs, the emphasis of art therapy is often now placed on healing through artmaking. Julia Young, curator at the Dax Centre, comments: “You don’t necessarily have the words to describe how you feel. Why can’t that come through your art?”

Founded in 2012, the Dax Centre holds a unique place in the Melbourne art world. The gallery holds the collection of leading psychiatrist and art therapy advocate, Dr Cunningham Dax. His collection began as some 9,000 works created by inpatients of Victorian psychiatric centres during the second half of the twentieth century. As these institutions began to close down in the 1980s, Dr Dax collected many works that would otherwise have been consigned to the garbage. Later, the collection expanded to include donated work by contemporary artists with lived experience of mental illness. With an impressive collection of over 16,000 works, the mission of the Dax Centre is simple: “To advance the understanding of mental health issues and reduce stigma through ART.”

In any circumstance, when a curator assumes the role of displaying artworks, they take upon themselves a certain level of authority; they speak for the art and communicate its ideas. If the curator and the artist are not one and the same, there is a level of responsibility on the part of the curator to not misrepresent the artist. When dealing with the work of vulnerable members of society, that burden is far greater. Assuming the Dax Centre has permission from the artists and/or their families to show the works, there is still a heavy burden on the staff when it comes to the curation of artworks and management of exhibitions and public programmes. This is particularly important when working with the historical collection, which contains artwork created during art therapy sessions that were never meant to be displayed. Its public exhibition, therefore, raises certain ethical questions. Art therapists would be quick to point out that their mantra is do no harm.

This is something that the Dax Centre takes very seriously, creating certain policies around the dissemination of information, including the withholding of certain names. And while the centre holds original patient notes, including diagnoses, it is important to Julia that she not focus on these medical papers. “I like to have my own relationship with [the artworks],” she says. “We use this art to talk about mental health, but we don’t use it to analyse people. I like to not put any kind of curatorial oversight or voice over the top.” This way, the centre’s aim to reduce the stigma around mental health is foremost in the curator’s mind. Maintaining the artists’ dignity, while helping the public understand lived experience of mental health issues, leads Julia’s curatorial approach.

With the proliferation of negative representations of mental illness, spaces like the Dax Centre are crucial in changing societal attitudes. Speaking of the visitors to the centre, Julia notes, “They’ve left with better understanding and they’ve left with greater empathy. So, whatever the art is doing, it’s working. We just have to do more of it.”