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By Paramita Chaudhuri India offers just one hospital bed nationally per 15,400 mentally ill patients. The situation in West Bengal is no different. A unique outsider art exhibition of dolls in Kolkata recently helped mentally handicapped individuals from two state-run institutions make dolls that communicate their lives and aspirations to each other and the outside world
The room is full of people walking around and exclaiming in wonder and appreciation. It’s an eclectic group comprising students, teachers, artists and young children. From the ceiling hang dolls of various colours and shapes, beckoning the visitors into their world, inviting everyone to embark on a journey with their creators. All of it is part of ‘I Witness: A Doll Project’, initiated by Anjali, a human rights group based in Kolkata, West Bengal. The project was conceptualised in the belief that the creative process of making dolls allows people with mental disabilities to find forms of expression that go beyond words and traditional therapies. The significance of this becomes clearer in the context of the mental health scenario in India which paints an alarming picture. According to the National Mental Health Programme Document (1982), between 20 million and 30 million Indians need some from of mental care, with an estimated two people per 1,000 population requiring serious mental attention. India has 36 mental hospitals serving 75,000 patients, with a total of only 20,764 beds available throughout the country. This translates to one available bed per 15,400 people needing institutionalised treatment. The situation in West Bengal mirrors the national scenario. For the vast majority of mentally ill people who are unable to afford better care, state-run mental hospitals are the only recourse. Inmates of mental hospitals and other state custodial agencies are herded together with no recreation, creative activity or social contacts. It’s against this background that Ratnaboli Ray, managing trustee of Anjali, andPeter Bjorn Franceshci, a visual artist from Denmark, came together to foster the process of communication and connectedness in people suffering from severe mental illness. The process also aims at breaking the monotony and stillness of life behind institutional walls, bringing in laughter and imagination. Ratnaboli Ray says: “What is unique about these dolls is that they don’t symbolise despair; they represent the aspirations and uniqueness of their creators. They embody the reassurance of being worthy, of being loved. They (the participants) did not strive for perfection in the doll-making; they have attempted to develop a way of communicating with the external world.” Engaging the creative spirit The ‘I Witness: A Doll Project’ concept can be traced back to the last half of the 17th century, which was characterised by the emergence of a culture where boundaries were drawn between assumed productive elements of society and those found lacking because of poverty, infirmity or mental illness. Asylums and sanatoriums became a prominent feature in the European and American landscape. Within such confinement and isolation the creative endeavours of the ‘insane’ began to be expressed and the ‘artist-outsider’ came into being. ‘Outsider art’ refers to the creative work of artists who, for a variety of reasons, cannot be taught how to make art. It includes the naïve, the innocent, the self-taught, the visionary, the intuitive, the eccentric, the schizophrenic, the developmentally disabled, the psychotic, the obsessive, the compulsive. The strong appeal of this work seems to be rooted primarily in its ‘otherness’ and originates from personal vision, experience, memory, intuition, obsession or compulsion, rather than from popular ideals. Work on a pilot project began in 2007 at Lumbini Park Mental Hospital with the participation of mainly schizophrenia patients. Enthused by the response, a larger workshop was organised in 2008 with more or less the same group of people at Lumbini Park and with a smaller group of 12 participants from Pavlov Mental Hospital. Both these hospitals are government-run mental health institutions in Kolkata. The participating group comprised people who had suffered severe trauma, abuse, loss, or grief. They were mostly from the outskirts of Kolkata and had led normal lives until the time of their illness. Many had left behind husbands, wives, children, parents and siblings. In spite of this they had had virtually no visitors from home in the last one year. Their average stay in the hospital has been between six and 10 years. To begin, participants reflected on a happy or unhappy memory and made dolls that reflected this memory. During sessions, participants encouraged and supported each other. One participant did and un-did his creation over and over again until his peers praised the work. Throughout, the conversation flowed -– on history, family relationships, sport, the discovery of dinosaurs, and the fact that the Royal Bengal tiger understands Bangla but not English! The group worked intensely for a month. Many participants made multiple dolls, each representing different memories and aspects of their lives. There were metaphors from religion, dolls based on animal imagery to express nurturance and power. And an overwhelming majority were images of family members -- sons and daughters, nephews, husbands, brothers, lovers, friends. Feelings of caring were strong amongst men and women who either had children or had been involved in looking after nieces and nephews. Forty-two-year-old Jhumpa explained: “I have made this doll thinking of my younger brother’s child. I miss my brother, brother’s wife and their child so much. I want to stay with them. Had I been married, I too would have had a child. That did not happen. So I thought of my brother’s child and made this doll.” Some doll-makers made animals to evoke memories of both happy times at home and days of fear and bitterness. The creations included penguins, parrots, tiger cubs, rabbits, elephants and butterflies. A female artist made a doll in memory of her favourite Discovery Channel programme on penguins. Several made fish as they recalled their families’ fondness for fish preparations! One woman used to have a parrot as a pet -- a gift from her husband -- which she lost when the domestic help “let it fly away”. Fruits and flowers were markers of nostalgia, of a childhood spent watching lotuses in bloom, or rejoicing when one’s parents brought home succulent mangoes. Prantik, a 44-year-old male participant yearning for a lotus flower, recalled: “I have been fond of the lotus since my childhood. My uncle had a pond near our house. No one would let me pluck a flower. The lotus always reminds me of my childhood days. This does not look like a lotus at all, but it is a lotus flower.” Feelings of fear and anger were embodied in 37-year-old Suman’s tiger. But then Suman added: “No living creature can be as cruel as man.” The tiger was thus an embodiment of man in his vilest form, representing all the cruelty that the creator had experienced during his illness. The White Doll, on the other hand, was 44-year-old Chirashree’s manifestation of suppressed rage for the man she loved but who only acknowledged her as a sister. Chirashree attributes her sickness to unrequited love. The Blue Doll captured her creator’s memories of lost friends who are living free and leading good lives. Several male participants made prototypes of themselves. Twenty-seven-year-old Jeet depicted a sick man who used to be strong in the past. The doll expressed his yearnings to be a ‘perfect’ man. “I have made a male doll. He has a moustache and is smoking a cigarette. I don’t smoke, but it looks smart. I am very fond of the colour orange; that is why he is wearing an orange shirt. I thought of myself whilst making this doll. He is a strong man, someone who can solve all problems.” Religious motifs were powerfully evoked by some artists to represent their negative experiences of trying to be accepted. For Deep, the image of Lord Shiva was a self-portrayal since, “Lord Shiva too tolerates everything, especially when Goddess Kali is in a tempestuous mood”. Rupa, a 39-year-old female artist created Lord Krishna in memory of a lover who had thwarted her. She said: “I am a devotee of Lord Krishna. Along with Lord Krishna I used to love my Sir (tutor). He promised to marry me but then broke his word and married another girl. My heart broke. I have made this doll while thinking of my Sir.” Room full of dolls And so it was that dolls of every form and colour, representing the lives and feelings of their creators, welcomed and enthralled visitors during the seven days of the exhibition. People from all walks of life dropped by, many of them unaware of the existence of mental health institutions in Kolkata and the conditions in which inmates live. A few visitors were initially hesitant, but the mood was infectious and they could not help but respond with spontaneity and enthusiasm. The participants added dimension to the exhibition by sharing their personal thoughts and experiences. A group of students from a fashion institute were captivated by the posters displayed outside the venue, and enthralled by the colours and emotions expressed through the dolls. An IT professional said: “The experiences depicted are so achingly honest that they make us re-look at our relationships. I need to re-think my notions of normalcy after this.” A university lecturer summed up everyone’s mood by remarking: “There is a strong sense of entitlement that comes through each of these dolls, a yearning to get back what is lost and reclaim one’s own; a desire shared by so many of us. It is this that ultimately breaks the ‘otherisation’ and brings us together.” (Paramita Chaudhuri works as a consultant with human rights groups in the areas of research, training and capacity-building. She is a Fellow of the Health and Population Innovation Programme managed by the Population Council, New Delhi) Infochange News & Features, July 2009
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