Art therapy engages the mind and may help heal the body

A lively group of pregnant women is learning how to make picture frames on the sixth-floor maternity unit at the University of Washington Medical Center. The women have been hospitalized for weeks — sometimes months — so that their endangered unborn babies can be constantly monitored. Most are allowed out of bed only one or two hours a day.

"We are so limited in what we can do," says Rachel Mueller, a small person whose belly is huge with twins threatening to arrive prematurely. "I miss sweeping and doing the dishes and making dinner. I feel sad that I'm here and not at home taking care of my family."

But this crafts project "lightens the load," she says. "It's nice to be with other women, to talk and gossip."

Making simple art is just a tiny example of an emerging movement around the world to use the arts in health-care settings to relieve stress, distract from pain, uplift the spirit and promote healing.

Hospitals and other medical providers now recognize that painting, music, storytelling, sculpting, theater and other forms of creative expression benefit patients and staff alike.

Some hospitals also enhance the environment with art collections and entertainment. Patients, their families and staff may be the audience — or they may be the artists.

"Studies are showing it helps retain nurses when facilities are filled with art and music," said Gay Hanna, executive director of the Society for the Arts in Healthcare, a nonprofit whose members include some of the largest health-care providers in the world. "It also helps the caregiver in terms of stress. It helps the patient as well, especially those with chronic illness."

'A way to forget'

The same day that women in the UW hospital maternity ward were making frames, two floors up, a musician played a beautiful, handmade instrument in the rehabilitation unit for patients recovering from terrible injuries and trauma. The next week, oncology patients gathered with an art therapist to create a collage about spring.

"It's a way to forget about everything else," said Yvonne Brehan, a patient with an inoperable brain tumor. "You can concentrate on the process of making art. I can also express feelings through the art."

Across the state, especially in Seattle, arts are starting to emerge as a powerful partner with health care.

A new public and nonprofit consortium, the Washington Arts and Health Care Network, will launch an initiative this summer to raise awareness about the value of arts in health care.

The first step will be a Web site that includes a list of best examples, such as old-time fiddlers and quilters who entertain in nursing homes, dance therapists who work with accident victims, potters who help arthritis patients.

The group is planning a conference on the arts and health care for fall. And an eventual goal is to link health-care providers with artists through a roster on the Web.

Consortium members include the Washington State Arts Commission, UW Medical Center, Harborview Medical Center, the state Health Care Authority and the Artist Trust in Seattle, a nonprofit dedicated to supporting Washington artists.

Sterile décor is history

The influence of art on health care goes back to ancient times, says Annette Ridenour, president emeritus of the Society for the Arts in Health Care. Certain theatrical performances in Greek temples were considered healing. Indigenous cultures used drumming, dance, body markings and masks to invoke healing. The church commissioned icons of saints as symbols to whom people could pray for deliverance from specific kinds of disease.

The arts were eliminated from health-care settings with the emergence of modern medicine and its emphasis on operating, medicating and getting rid of germs. Hospitals became very sterile-looking.

In the 1930s, the arts movement re-emerged when the federal Works Progress Administration hired artists during the Great Depression to paint murals in hospitals as well as in other public buildings. The objective was to give artists work, but a byproduct was art enjoyment for the public and patients.

Art therapy as a distinct profession took hold in the 1940s. Numerous developments paved the way, from more humane treatment of mental patients to the study of child development.

Today, more than 30 master's-level art-therapy programs exist across the country. Antioch University in Seattle offers the only one in this state and, in the fall, it will offer the nation's first doctorate in clinical psychology with an emphasis in art therapy.

The biggest change in the arts and health-care movement emerged about 15 years ago with the idea that how we think and feel influences our physical well-being.

Today, the big emphasis is on scientific evaluation and documentation.

"The shift has gone from 'Is it pretty?' to 'What does it contribute to the healing process?' " says Ridenour.

Reaching for mind and spirit

The arts won't cure physical disease and injury.

"We're reaching the mind and spirit of people, helping them to focus in a different place, sort of like when we go on vacation," said Linda Allen, founder and volunteer coordinator of Seattle's Healing Music Project. The project provides professional, free performances — such as string ensembles, classical guitar and interactive theater — to the Cancer Care Alliance, comprised of UW Medicine, the Fred Hutchinson Cancer Research Center and Children's Hospital & Regional Medical Center.

"Any serious critical condition totally draws you into its claws. It can take over your mind. Maybe this is a way of finding an escape from that," said Allen.

Several research studies are starting to affirm the power of art for patients and their caregivers.

One example is a study by Sandra Walsh, a nurse researcher and professor at Barry University in Miami Shores, Fla. The study showed that bedside art activity at a regional cancer center helped family caregivers and patients during treatment.

A bilingual nurse-artist team rolled an "artkart" full of supplies and ideas for projects to the patients' bedsides. Rather than sit and wring their hands with worry, the caregivers, and often the patients, got involved in a creative project. The caregivers felt happier and less stressed. The cancer patients forgot about their misery for awhile.

But the most convincing evidence arises from stories about patients' personal encounters with the healing power of art.

In Seattle, Children's Hospital sponsors a therapeutic-play program of art and music, as well as animal-assisted activities. The clown-care unit sends clowns throughout the hospital to help kids find fun and laughter in their day.

Choral groups and the symphony entertain. Music calms the infants and helps teenagers deal with pain and the adjustment to hospitalization, says art therapist Rosalie Frankel. Frankel offers patients hands-on projects a few hours every week.

Children like to make picture books, for example, that tell their hospital experience. One child made a mobile with pictures of Hawaii, a fondly remembered vacation spot.

Making art, a natural extension of play, gives children a chance "to feel like kids," says Frankel. And it's nice for parents to see their child do something productive.

Recently, a teenager who had to be hospitalized after complications from a bone-marrow transplant tried to draw a picture of a mountain. He ended up throwing down his pencil, frustrated over perceived limitations.

"The art was a really good way for him to see his negativity and remember his past successes," said Frankel.

The boy and the artist talked. He started the drawing over and was more successful the second time.

A 5-year-old boy on the surgical unit was forced to be away from home long-term. When his healthy older brother visited, they spent hours drawing fire trucks together, which really was a way to strengthen their bond.

"It created a really positive interaction between the two," said Frankel.

Karaoke in the burn unit

Harborview has a longstanding collection of public art. Over the next decade, about $2 million worth of commissioned art work will be added to the medical campus, in both exterior gathering places and interior waiting rooms. The additions are part of bond-financed seismic upgrades and construction, and will satisfy the requirement that 1 percent of the bond money be set aside for art.

About two years ago, Harborview started an eclectic in-house arts program — from live interactive theater, poetry readings, puppetry and musical performances to patients who are part of a bus-shelter art project. An internist recently shared an exhibit of his photography.

One of the most memorable events was created by a patient injured in a car accident. After discharge, she organized a karaoke night for about 60 patients from the burn unit and rehabilitation area.

"She came back in her wheelchair, cranked up the music, and we had an incredible night," said Peggy Weiss, director of the Medical Center's in-house arts program, which she started two years ago.

People were awed when a burn patient put on an incredible performance with no embarrassment. The patient's explanation went something like this: "Look at me. I was burned over 80 percent of my body. What I've been through is amazing. Standing up and singing a song is nothing."

'It calmed me down'

Every day in the corridors of the UW Medical Center, thousands of people are exposed to a diverse collection of fine art and textiles. Patients' families often express appreciation in letters and e-mails at having something to focus on besides IV tubes, blood draws and waiting-room lines.

The Medical Center's artist-in-residence program serves about 230 patients and staff a month through art groups or bedside visits. Volunteer musicians also perform regularly.

For patients, the idea is to focus on creativity rather than illness and to recapture an image of themselves as independent and productive. For staff, it's a moment to decompress.

A few weeks ago, a pregnant Rachel Mueller went into labor prematurely after all.

An injection stopped the contractions. But she had to stay in bed all day wondering and worrying whether she could make it another two weeks to give her babies "every fighting chance to cope with the outside world."

When it was time for art class, she eagerly asked for a wheelchair and pillow — "Just so I could get out of my room and talk to the other girls."

The project this time was making leaf prints. Her mind escaped.

"The colors reminded me of nature of being outside. ... It calmed me down," she said.

"It makes me feel almost normal."

Rachel Mueller gave birth to her twins last week.

Marsha King: 206-464-2232 or mking@seattletimes.com