Lauren Hemphill

4/9/18

Artistic Statement

            The reason this particular essay was written for my final assignment is due to, in part, Virginia Woolf and our discussion in class about her mental health and the issues she faced in a world that did not understand. As a writer myself who wrestles with depression, I have always felt a somewhat kindred spirit in Woolf, and have frequently wondered what would have happened if she were given the treatment she truly needed. This then developed into the question about mental health and creativity, a myth that has been passed around in creative circles for years: if you are mentally ill, you are more creative. Giving our lack of mental health the power over our creativity like this has caused many artistic sorts not to seek help when they most needed it, due to their fear of losing their creativity if they got a better handle on what was causing them to suffer—their own mind. With all this in mind, I decided it would be interesting to see what the rest of the scholarly world has to say on the subject, and if there is truly any studies that suggest being sick makes your art better.

The Abusive Muse: Does Mental Illness Cause Creativity?

            Within my studies as an undergrad and my many years of writing creatively and being within the artistic world, I have come to realize the reoccurring theme of mental illness in creatives. From friends who suffer beneath the abusive thumb of depression, anxiety, or bipolar disorder, to literary classics like Virginia Woolf and Picasso struggling with similar—if not the same—categorized mental illnesses. These reappearing issues within the creative world has been the source of much debate, peoples of all education levels wondering if there is a link between the two, and others arguing the opposite, insisting that creatives and mental illness do not necessarily go hand-in-hand. All this has been a source of tension within the artistic communities around the world, with some artists struggling with seeing their sicknesses in a poor light due to an assumed relationship between their imagination and creative ability, and that of their own torturous mind; while others insist that there is a separation made in order to help creatives to seek help without fear of them losing their creative ability. The science supports both sides, however, due to the importance of saving lives rather than pushing the romantic notion of the depressed artist, it is my belief that the conversation should revolve around ensuring creatives do not credit their mental illness as the source of their creativity.

            In an article written by J. Schlensinger titled “Creativity and Mental Health,” she notes that artists are seen by the public and enjoyed vigorously. After lamenting on the issues of Jamison, who, Schlensinger states, had “many introductory psychology textbooks include her contention that 50% of poets have affective disorders, without noting that she had only 18 poets in her sample and moreover diagnosed affective disorder as simply ‘seeking treatment’ for it,” Schlensinger states that “such flaws should have been fatal, but apparently the public appetite for the doomed artist is too great.” This is perhaps the first hurdle for the creative to face. A few years ago, as my creativity grew and my love of writing deepened, I struggled with depression on a day-to-day basis. This depression, I thought, had to have been the cause of my creativity, as the two seemed to show up around the same time. As Icon For Hire states in one of their lyrics for Happy Hurts: “This on again, off again temperamental affection // For my darling depression is making me go mad.” This line, as a whole, encapsulates a creative’s mindset when dealing with mental illness. Speaking from personal experience, it was difficult to separate the two from one another, and I found myself thinking that my depression was a necessary part of myself in order for me to write. I let myself grow worse, all because of the media’s portrayal of sick artists.

            Media, as a whole, has always had a fascinating association with mental illness. Often times, the sickness is seen in a negative light. For example: people are quick to blame mental health issues the moment a tragedy happens; movies often show those with bipolar disorder (as a rough example) as violent and unstable (movies such as Psycho, Split come to mind); films also tend to show those who separate themselves from the pack, as many creatives do in order to work (writers tend to spend hours at a desk alone, painters tend to find a workroom where they can focus, musicians needs space to compose, etc.), as people that need to be fixed (the animated movie Trolls is a rather large attack on introversion—worse still, it is targeted towards children. However, that is better discussed in-depth in another essay). Yet, despite all the bad press, artists exhibiting illnesses are often idealized. The reoccurring joke of poets and their drinking problems is evident of the normalizing aspect of society. Suicides within the artistic realm are prevalent and common—everyone has heard of an artist who has killed themselves, from Virginia Woolf, Picasso, to Vincent Van Gogh. These people have all suffered in their lifetimes, all struggling to find an outlet in which they could express themselves, but ultimately, their sickness returned in a manner they could no longer handle. It is horrific, but not unheard of. The frequency in which this happens, and the sheer amount of articles committed to trying to find a link between mental health and creativity, shows that many people have tried to justify it. But growing up in the 90’s and onward, I, for one, always believed that if you fell into the path of an artist, sickness would come shortly after. And you weren’t likely to survive it.

1. G. Gordon says in the article “Creativity and Mental Health” that, specifically speaking of musicians and poets, a sense of rhythm comes from what “seems to be musical hallucinations” (728). In this article, Gordon argues that this syndrome of a hyperactive inner ear seems to be prevalent in most of the well-known musicians, and sites the side effects in tandem with the artists in question. While a small article overall, Gordon’s words hold great weight. Suggesting that there is a common theme and that some of the greatest composers and poets are victim to specific, singular thing, and that this is what aided them in their creativity is something rather immense. However, it is not new. As someone within the community of artists with mental health issues, many of these people believe this to be the case. The rhetoric has been spread by people throughout many years of research, but there are those who rise up within the science to declare that this way of thinking could cause the death of more of our artists.

            A study by Jeffrey Garfield titled Artistic Creativity and Mental Health, however, showed that mental health wasn’t necessarily the cause of an artist’s muse. Garfield does reference the amount of branching studies in the abstract of the study before going on to discuss the conclusions:

“Psychodiagnostic studies of eminent artists report unusually high rates of bipolar disorder, major depression, and suicide, with visual artists among those at greatest risk for severe psychopathology. In contrast, other research finds creative people possess high levels of beneficial psychological traits, such as ego strength, emotional intelligence, and transformational coping, which appear incompatible with severe psychopathology. These divergent findings have led some to conclude that creative artists are both ‘healthier and sicker’ than people in general, and that the healthy traits associated with creativity counterbalance the effects of mental illness in creative people” (Garfield, iii).

This study therefore opens with the acknowledgment of the various paths research has taken. Indeed, in the many articles I have read (more of which will be reference and discussed later in this essay), this seems to be the case. With this conflicting research, this allows, as mentioned earlier, the media to take the spin in which the artist is linked with their illness, that they are moody and depressive and, occasionally, violent. These traits are normalized. But Garfield concludes a different statement of faith for creatives who do not wish to lead a life such as this:

“The majority (64%) of visual artists reported no affective instability and no mood disorder, suggesting that artistic creativity and illness are not related…These results suggest that artists are, as a consequence of their creativity, particularly resilient and adaptive even in the presence of significant psychopathology. By reducing the effect of illness, hardy personality traits may allow creative individuals to be more productive, adaptive, and innovative” (iii-iv).

Arguing this idea, that not only should creatives not be tied to their mental health, but should in fact seek help for it so that they may be even more creative, is a huge and nuanced idea within the field. Not only that, it is a massive victory for those who insist that creatives not see their mental illnesses as the source for their art. In high school growing up, this was one thing that was immensely difficult for me to grasp. Spoken amongst friends, it was clear that those who were creative tended to have mental issues. Art of all sorts was a release for many of these people, but none of them frequently sought help. It was simply the way things were. And when schools taught on the arts and mentioned the rampant mental sicknesses, they neglected to reiterate to any potential creatives in the room that these unwell people did not necessarily owe their sicknesses anything. They were creative. They were also ill. But one did not birth the other.

            As Elizabeth Gilbert says in her TED talk on Your Elusive Creative Genius:

“We writers, we kind of do have that reputation, and not just writers, but creative people across all genres, it seems, have this reputation for being enormously mentally unstable. And all you have to do is look at the very grim death count in the 20th century alone, of really magnificent creative minds who died young and often at their own hands, you know? And even the ones who didn’t literally commit suicide seem to be really undone by their gifts, you know. Norman Mailer, just before he died, last interview, he said, ‘Every one of my books has killed me a little more.’ An extraordinary statement to make about your life’s work. But we don’t even blink when we hear somebody say this, because we’ve heard that kind of stuff for so long and somehow we’ve completely internalized and accepted collectively this notion that creativity and suffering are somehow inherently linked and that artistry, in the end, will always ultimately lead to anguish” (Gilbert).

In saying this, Gilbert acknowledges not only the internalization of, as she puts it, “creativity and suffering” somehow going together, but also, as her talk continues onward, asks the pressing question: how do we keep these people alive? With the constant conversations surrounding this topic, it is a wonder why so many studies seem to suggest that mental health is directly linked to the quality of someone’s work. In a study done by S. Jeffery Garfield titled Creativity and Mental Health, the suggestion is made early on of this idea: “These empirical studies tend to support the notion that creativity, if not a function of, is at least highly related to mental health” (1). But what some studies have pegged as a wholly negative relationship, Creativity and Mental Health seems to suggest that positives go along with this link. In fact, it argues that there appears to be a positive relationship between mental health, citing that it even helps make a person more accepting of change, better able to rely on themselves, and more open to understanding who they are as a person. This brings a new idea to the field, one in which a connection between mental health and the creative arts is not shown in a negative light. Instead, it is suggested that perhaps this connection is beneficial for the creative person. This manner of thinking in and of itself is curious, as the common conversation around these two ideas have almost always been in a manner in which the creative person is suffering beneath the rock that is their mental illness.

            This produces a new dialogue around this topic: is there a connection between mental health and creativity, and if so, is it a negative or positive experience? Within the mental health community, most people push to make sure young artists understand that their mental illnesses should be treated, and not suffered through. As some people believe this tether to illness is what causes them to be able to create more artistic creations. This can allow for artists to become more and more ill, never seeking help as they believe if they were to find some sort of relief, their creativity would disappear. With the idea of illness potentially helping a person while also positively influencing their behaviors, this opens up new possibilities of romanticizing illness within creative types. While positive, and opening up a dialogue that sees illness as something better than it is, it remains concerning as artists under this new belief still may not seek help, claiming, then, that their lack of mental stability is what makes them a good person.

            It is therefore, with all these different studies in mind along with the community that suffers from these illnesses at my back, that I suggest that while mental illness should continue to be studied and understood, it is beneficial for the conversation to always note that people should seek help regardless of their thoughts on their mental health. If mental illness is positive, a person should still find sources to aid them regardless, and if mental illness is negative, an artist should still seek help. The conversation should always note that being healthy is more important, and that being healthy will still allow for someone to be creative—and not just creative, just as creative as when they were ill. If this is the dialogue that revolves around this particular field of study, perhaps then people would stop seeing mental illness as something romantic, and push more artists to find help before it is too late for them. With this push, more of the world’s artists could remain living and survive what ails them, and produce more incredible work for the populace to enjoy.

Works Cited

Garfield, S. Jeffrey. “Creativity and Mental Health.” The Journal Of Educational Research.

1969.

Garfield, Jeffrey S., Helen A. Cohen, and Robert M. Roth. “Artistic Creativity and Mental

Health.” The Journal of Educational Research. Taylor and Francis, Ltd. 1969.

Gordon, A. G. “Creativity and Mental Health.” Journal of the Royal Society of Medicine. 1996.

Nettle, Daniel. “Schizotypy and Mental Health Amongst Poets, Visual Artists, and

Mathematicians.” Journal of Research in Personality. 2005. University of Newcastle,

Newcastle.

Schlesinger, J. “Creativity and Mental Health.” Journal of the Royal Society of Medicine. 1996.

Viswanath, K., K. Janardhan Reddy, and S. Viswanatha Reddy. “Effect of Mental Healthy on

Creativity.” Indian Journal of Health and Wellbeing. Indian Association of Health. 2015.