Artists and Mental Health

Still Crazy After All These Years By Ilana Stanger, Guest Writer Are artists really, well, crazier than regular folks? Judging by my artistic friends, yes. Judging by the number of famous mentally ill artists it'd be easy enough to conclude so. The theory of the "mad genius" has roots at least as far back as ancient Greece, where Socrates dismissed any poet "untouched by the madness of the muses." Such poets, Socrates warned, are doomed to find their "sane compositions never reach perfection, but are utterly eclipsed by the inspired madman." Since then the stereotype of the crazy artist has endured, and, with psychology's emergence as a science in the late nineteenth century, scientists have taken to studying the somewhat elusive connection between artistic genius and mental illness. As the eminent and early psychiatrist William James noted, "When a superior intellect and a psychopathic temperament coalesce we have the best possible condition for the kind of effective genius that gets into the biographical dictionaries." In 1992 Dr. Arnold M. Ludwig, a psychiatrist at the University of Kentucky Medical Center, published an extensive biographical survey of 1,005 famous 20th-century artists and writers, comparing their mental health with those of individuals in other, more conventional, professionals. Ludwig discovered that artists and writers experienced two to three times the rate of psychosis, suicide attempts, mood disorders, and substance abuse than did comparably successful people in business, science, and public life. Ludwig went so far as to trace various types of mental illness to different creative professions: he found that if you're a poet you're more likely to suffer from mania and psychoses; a musician or actor, drug abuse; a composer, artist, or non-fiction writer, alcohol dependence. In Ludwig's analysis, those professions which rely on precision, reason, and logic have a much lower rate of mental illness than those that rely on emotive expression, personal experience, and vivid imagery as a source of inspiration. In other words, it could always be worse--you could be a poet. Another (desperate sigh) interesting study, published in The American Journal of Psychiatry in 1994, surveyed the mental state of fifteen Abstract Expressionist Artists of the New York School--including Jackson Pollock, whose infamous instability is currently bringing in the bucks on the big screen. The study found that over 50% of the 15 artists included in the group suffered from some form of psychopathology, most often mood disorders and morbidness compounded with alcoholism. Often the consequences of these illnesses were fatal: of the fifteen artists, two were suicides, two died in single-vehicle accidents considered to be "suicide equivalents," and two had fathers who killed themselves. In total, seven of the fifteen were dead before the age of sixty. Why might artists suffer more from mental illness? Dr. Sidney Melanger, a Freudian psychiatrist in private practice in New York, offered one explanation. "People who are creative are much more in touch with their unconscious," he told me. "This increases their capacity for creativity, because they can tap the uncharted waters within them. As a result of this they can think in crazier ways, which means more creative ways." As Dr. Oliver Sacks (you know him--the doctor Robin Williams played in "The Awakening,") put it, "Creativity involves the depth of a mind and many, many depths of unconsciousness." Ok, so we've got the unconscious involved, which always means trouble. But there's more. According to Dr. Kay Jamison of Johns Hopkins University, herself a sufferer of manic-depressive disorder, hypomania, or mild mania, is "highly conducive to original thinking." The diagnostic criteria for hypomania includes "sharpened and unusually creative thinking and increased productivity," and some of the personality features associated with hypomania, especially expansive thought and grandiose moods, can lead to increased fluency and frequency of thoughts. In other words, people who experience hypomania may, for a time, experience greater productivity and creativity--both key characteristics for artists. Other theories about the art-mental illness connection include the possibility of a genetic link between depression and creativity (remember the two children of suicides in the New York school?) and, ironically, the therapeutic effect of making art itself. Art Therapy is based on the idea that people who have difficulty expressing themselves through "normal" social interactions will benefit from expressing themselves through art. So, those drawn to art might be those who already have some emotional difficulty. Finally, a third theory considers the effect of artists' exposure to toxic materials. (Ala the old image of the Mad Hatter in Alice in Wonderland, and the subsequent research that found the mercury used in repairing hats was, indeed, making those hatters "mad.") Are suffering and art inevitably linked? Carl Jung praised the artist as the one who "makes it possible for us to find our way back to the deepest springs of life." If that sounds like a big responsibility, it is. Jung's artist, forced to carry "the unconscious psychic life of mankind," might find himself with "so heavy a burden that he is fated to sacrifice happiness and everything that makes life worth living for the ordinary human being."

Yikes. Ready to throw in the towel right now? Don't. Not every psychologist believes in the mental illness-creativity link. I spoke with Annie Hagert, a mental health counselor at the University of the Arts, who is unconvinced that there is more pathology among artists, but, at the same time, is absolutely convinced that the stereotype of the mad artist affects artists. "Artistic children often do not have as many venues to shine, and to gain self-esteem, as other children," she explained. "They see themselves as different, as an artist. The notion that craziness is an important aspect of being an artist, and that the craziness makes you a better artist, affects them." This negative stereotype can, taken to an extreme, prevent mentally ill artists from seeking treatment for fear of losing their creative edge. For a frightening example of this we can look to the expressionist artist Edvard Munch, who, when informed that certain treatments could replace the cycle of institutionalization he'd been undergoing, insisted that he be able to "keep those sufferings." Munch considered his emotional torments "part of me and my art," warning that, "they are indistinguishable from me, and it would destroy my art." Hagert strives to combat that attitude among the young artists she sees. "I used to work on Capitol Hill," says Hagert, "And there is just as much craziness there as among art students. Artists see their work as a manifestation of themselves, which it is. But so can a lawyer's work be, or an accountant's. The notion that artists use their problems as fuel for their art, and therefore must have problems, is a story that both sides like to tell. And that's fine, as long as it doesn't hurt the artist." Jamison also warns against the stereotype of the "mad genius," which trivializes a very serious disease and undermines individuality in the arts. "Most manic-depressives do not possess extraordinary imagination, and most accomplished artists do not suffer from recurring mood swings," she reminds us. The upshot? Although many artists do relish their quirkiness, there's nothing romantic about suicide and substance addiction. Art is hard. It's hard to make a living. It's hard to believe in yourself. And it's hard to be judged by subjective criteria--especially when you feel it's your soul up on the canvas. While it can be illuminating to consider the art-mental illness connection, it shouldn't be taken as prophesy. Hagert asks the students she sees, some of whom exhibit self-destructive behavior, "How can you be interesting and creative and tow the line? How can you be interesting and creative and not hurt yourself?" Remember also that taking care of yourself is important not just for your health, but, despite Munch's claim, for your work. Dr. Melanger noted that someone who suffered too deeply from mental illness would not be able to produce art: "If you're truly insane you can't really be creative in a way that's communicative and that people can respond to." As Sylvia Plath put it, "When you are insane, you are busy being insane--all the time...When I was crazy, that's all I was." Take care of yourself, work hard on your art, and stay sane. The rest will follow. This article was originally created for TheArtBiz.com. It appears on NYFA Interactive courtesy of the Abigail Rebecca Cohen Library.
1994-2011 NYFA