The new Bethlem Museum of the Mind

I've been looking forward to writing this post, just as I was looking forward to seeing the new Bethlem Museum of the Mind. It has been closed for a couple of months, moved building and undergone a considerable transformation. It is still housed in the grounds of the hospital, the South London and Maudsley NHS Trust. 

I went with friends, the same friends who I visited the old museum with last December just before it was about to close and we loved it. You can read about that visit here. The old site was tiny, and what we remember most was that it was full of artwork by patients depicting their stories and experiences of their own mental health.

Things have changed.
You're drawn into the museum by this compelling portrait, Numb by Lisa Biles.
Looking at it, I felt anything but.

In this new incarnation of Bethlem Museum of the Mind, there is more of a focus on the history of Bethlem Hospital, told through the 'lens of mental health issues'. But that is slightly misleading, leading you to believe that this is all about the past. For me it was all about the now, as every object, quote, painting and photograph evoked the most powerful of emotions right here in the present. I couldn't just situate things historically, and think, 'that's OK, that's what happened in the olden days' and leave it there, parked in my 'olden-days' file. Throughout this exhibition we were asked what we thought, asked to contribute, contemplate and decide.

 The first thing I had to think about was my language.

Labelling and diagnosis.

The language surrounding mental health has changed over centuries. Some words are now acceptable, some can cause offence. These words are being collected and you are encouraged to add to the collection. I didn't. I felt uncomfortable, quite rightly, challenged by the insensitive words I have probably used over the years, particularly as a child. I don't think that this was intentional, to make me feel uncomfortable, so it was reassuring to read that in recent years the words 'mad' and 'bonkers' have been reclaimed for positive use. 

In the 19th century, it was believed that facial expressions and physical appearance provided clues about people's mental states. With this in mind, these photographs were commissioned to document different states of mental health, I assume to help with future diagnosis. These two individuals were noted to have chronic melancholia (above) and acute melancholia. We now know that the camera 'often' lies, but imagine having your photo taken for these reasons. I'm struck by the fact that they are patients, this is for real, they're not modelling melancholia.

I feel uncomfortable looking at much of the treatment from the past. But I'm in no position to criticise, I've never worked in this profession. I can only think about it from the perspective of a potential patient, thankfully not an actual patient.

The walls of an isolation room contrasted so beautifully against the tree outside.

Physical restraint.

ECT Electro convulsive therapy.

Not all therapy made me feel uncomfortable. Occupational therapy, time spent doing something 'useful, purposeful and worthwhile'. I know how it feels to be involved in something, to do something, useful, purposeful and worthwhile. Good for the soul and my self-esteem, rewarding.

Here I read about sewing, carpentry, ceramics, music and gardening.
There's a place for these therapies in most of our lives.

Then there's social therapy, talking.
Finding the right person to talk to.

This portrait is a testament to mutual respect. The individual who painted this was reassured, thinking his social worker was "crazier than he was". I liked the hope in this painting. He dedicated it to "friends, family and mental health professionals who... have given me perspective on a journey through to the other side where there is hope in being able to cope with my illness".

More opportunities to contribute, to have your say. But these are decisions not to be taken lightly. After hearing from a girl with mental health issues, her family and the healthcare professionals in this film, you get to have your say, to experience the weight of decision making. In making her decision, one of these students faltered and turned to my friend for reassurance, had she done right by the girl?

Not all stories end well,

but for some they do.

With this in mind, I found it it important to reflect on the World health Organisation's definition of mental health, which is

'a state of well-being in which every individual realizes his or her potential, can cope with the normal stresses of life, can work productively and fruitfully and is able to make a contribution to her or his community'.

Who ticks all these boxes, all the time?

The Bethlem Museum is aware of it's impact and the need to reflect. It provides a space right in the heart of the museum to do this. In this space you get a chance to reflect on some of the artwork made by patients that has been produced to explore their own state of mind or to provide a chance to escape.

Visitor comments, what you think, is important to Bethlem Museum. Your voice will be heard and displayed on the museum walls.

Bethlem has hosted visitors for centuries. In the 17th century the well-to-do came to see the 'lunatic poor'. Coming to the Bethlem myself, I was not only inspired and challenged, but had questions about my place here. Were we like those 17th century visitors? Well meaning onlookers? The Bethlem Museum says not, they tell us their work at the hospital and the museum is for everybody, it is 'important, not only for the future of mental healthcare, but for the future of us all'. 

Bethlem Museum of the Mind is open to the public Wednesdays to Fridays, and the first and last Saturdays of the month. details on the website, here.

I urge you to visit, there is so much more than I have mentioned, including an art gallery.