The film gives an overview of the Cunningham Dax Collection which has over fifteen thousand works, comprised of paintings, photographs, drawings, sculptures, ceramics, photography and poetry.

The works in the collection have all been produced by people who have had an experience of mental illness or psychological trauma.

The film features Sandy Jeffs, a Melbourne poet, who has the most poems in the Cunningham Dax Collection. Sandy's poetry is about more than mental illness, it is about her relationship with herself and the world.

Who is Dr Dax and what is The Cunningham Dax Collection?

Whilst the Collection is typically perceived to house historic materials drawn from Victorian institutions from the 1950s to the 1980s, approximately half of the objects within the Collection actually comprise works of art produced by contemporary Australian artists, who have had an experience of mental illness or psychological trauma.

Netherne Hospital 1965

Several years before coming to Melbourne, I was a post graduate student of Clinical Psychology at the Institute of Psychiatry in London (1964 to 1966). The course there was both extremely intensive and exceedingly well organised. It included a series of visits to a number of mental health/psychiatric services and institutions around London. In that era the role of large, all encompassing Psychiatric Hospitals (or Mental Asylums, as they were called) still reigned supreme; although the beginnings of change were apparent.

I clearly recall one of these visits was to Netherne Hospital. What stands out in my mind was that part of our tour included a visit to the Art Studio that had been created for patients to use as they pleased, and not as a specific part of therapy. There was a male resident artist who gave an explanatory talk to us and showed some of the work that patients had done.

What I most vividly recall, was a sculpture in wood of a person that had then been systematically carved away over a period of time, until all that was left was a slender curved residual shape of an ultra thin human body. The artist, as I recall, said that when almost nothing of the body was left that patient (a man) had committed suicide. He stated that he wished that the significance of the carving for the patient had been recognised by the mental health staff at the time, and the patient’s loss of life prevented.

That experience is still firmly embedded in my memory and constantly reminds me of the importance of appreciating the artistic and creative expression of those who are very distressed and suffering from mental health problems.

In my own psychotherapy work I am always interested in a person’s use of imagery and creative ideas, in addition to their more direct verbal communication about their concerns.

Little did I know at that time, in 1965, that the Netherne Hospital Art Studio was an important contribution of Dr Eric Cunningham Dax to patient welfare. His name may have been mentioned but I have no recall of that.

However, the experience of that visit certainly served to prime my interest in Dr Dax’s work when I met him during my first year (1969) in Melbourne, as a young lecturer in the University Department of Psychiatry, and later on, to work to ensure his unique collection of 'psychiatric art' was saved for posterity.

David J de L. Horne

In Victoria, institutions providing some form of care or control for people with mental illness or intellectual disability have existed since 1848, with the opening of the Yarra Bend Asylum, which later closed in 1926.

When the need to close the Yarra Bend Asylum arose, land in Bundoora was purchased in 1907. This site later became the home of Mont Park Psychiatric Hospital, and consequentially, Larundel and Plenty Psychiatric Hospitals, of which Mont Park was the parent hospital.

It was not long after the completion of the first building in 1910, that physical activity for patients was introduced. With the arrival of the first patients from Yarra Bend asylum in July 1912 to be housed in the Farm Workers’ Block, work was considered to be important to stimulate patients who were considered to be ‘dull and lifeless’ (Bircanin, 1995, p.3).

However, it was not until 1934 with the appointment for six months of Miss Lucy Syme, in the role of occupational therapist at Mont Park and Kew Mental Hospitals, that such practices were actively encouraged. A number of the Mont Park inmates were successfully employed in local Heidelberg businesses. Proving successful, Syme continued in the role of department occupational therapist until 1949.

During the 1950s and 1960s, a dual emphasis emerged that provided patients with experience of industrial-type work and encouraged them to express themselves through the creative arts. After Dr Eric Cunningham Dax was appointed the Chairman of the Mental Hygiene Authority in 1952, he introduced art programs into Victorian psychiatric hospitals.

He was inspired by the work produced by patients of Netherne hospital in England. Conducted by art therapists or occupational therapists, Dax believed these sessions and the practice of art making was therapeutic and beneficial for recovery.

These images, circa 1960s, capture the wards at Mont Park Hospital along with female patients in the midst of an occupational or art therapy activity. Poet Sandy Jeffs, who spent some time at Larundel, recalls similar wards, stating:

"In the 1970s and ‘80s, I recall the rooms in Larundel in the North Wards had no heating or air-conditioning, and they were freezing in the winter and hot in summer. At least that is how I remember them."

Meeting Dr Dax in the NSW Art Gallery in 1979

One Saturday morning following a conference in Sydney, I decided to visit the Art Gallery of New South Wales. At lunchtime I made my way to the gallery restaurant where I saw Eric already seated. I approached, greeted him and joined him for lunch.

What ensued was most interesting. He launched into a quite emotional account of the difficulties he was having in finding a place to house a large collection of paintings, sculptures and other artworks by patients experiencing “mental images” that he had gathered over many years during his career in mental health; originating in London but most notably developed during his time in Victoria in the nineteen fifties and sixties.

The more he told me about this collection, the more it dawned upon me that it was a uniquely significant Australian collection of “raw art”, with both educational and artistic significance for understanding the evolution of how people understood their emotional illnesses, and the treatments they received, during the mid 20 century. I concluded it would be a major loss to the nation, as being the only comparable collection in Australia to those in the UK and Europe.

I concluded that it was important enough to become a university collection.

As soon as I returned to Melbourne I was directed to contact Mr Ray Marginson, then Registrar of The University of Melbourne.

I vividly recall that first meeting with Mr Marginson. After briefly explaining what the situation was, his immediate response was that he greatly admired 'Dax' for the work he had done in Victoria to bring mental health services into the modern era, and that I should organise a joint meeting between the three of us to move the project forward. This I duly did and it led to funding being provided to bring Dr Dax’s collection from his home in Hobart to The University of Melbourne.

Initially the collection was housed in an unused laboratory in Old Physics but due to the support of Ray Marginson, the collection was soon moved to a small, single-storey terrace house, owned by the University in Faraday Street, Carlton.

Again, Mr Margison ensured adequate shelving and hanging space was funded and this allowed real progress to be made in curating and displaying the art work. Of course, later on, the Dax Collection was moved elsewhere until finding a truly professional home in its current setting: The Dax Centre, Kenneth Myer Building, The University of Melbourne.

Ⓒ David J de L. Horne

Footnote: This brief account is based upon a longer version written for: The Department of Psychiatry at The University of Melbourne 1964-2009 Personal Reminiscences (Eds. Edmond Chiu and Joy Preston). David Horne, Chapter 27. The Eric Cunningham Dax Psychiatric Art Collection. Department of Psychiatry, University of Melbourne, 2010.

This film excerpt, featuring Consulting Clinical Psychologist David Horne’s interview with Dr Eric Cunningham Dax, explains the different uses that Dax believed art within a therapeutic context could offer to clinicians.

'Psychiatric Art: an illustrated talk by Dr Eric Cunningham Dax; introduced by David J. de L. Horne', 1982

Contributors
Dr David J de L Horne
Dr Eric Cunningham Dax
Professor Emeritus Brian Davies
Mr Ray Marginson
The Dax Centre

When Dr Dax arrived in Victoria after being appointed Chairman of the Mental Hygiene Authority in 1952, it was into a society where links between psychiatry and art already existed.

Psychoanalysts such as Guy Reynolds, Ainslie Meares, Reginald Ellery and Paul Dane were fascinated by the notion that using art in a therapeutic context could assist the patient in expressing their emotions and ideas about the world around them and their inner world.

While Dax didn’t practice psychoanalysis himself, psychoanalytic theories were of interest to him, and partly influenced his decision to introduce art-making programs into Victoria’s institutions. Of equal importance to Dax however, was a belief that symbols within art produced by people experiencing mental ill health, could reveal to the psychiatrist the nature or progress of an illness.

Over the decades, Dax noted a number of key symbols that he saw within many of the artworks collected from patients of Victorian institutions. Mountains, cliff faces, heads and empty landscapes were but some of the symbols Dax felt were symbolic of different states of being. Other artworks expressed what Dax believed the patient was unable to express using words. A symbol noted on numerous occasions was the hidden meaning within trees:

‘Drawings of tree have many meanings, the downcast, drooping, black, leafless tree with broken branches represents depression. The windswept bent tree with leaves blowing away in the face of an approaching storm is associated with anxiety, whilst opposing forces show conflict, blocked roads demonstrate frustration, and cliffs insecurity.’ (Dax, 1992, p.4.)

Whilst Dax’s interpretations of the symbols within these works is a practice that subsequently became cautioned, his decision to introduce art-making programs within Victorian institutions also signposted the beginnings of dedicated art therapy practices in Victoria as a method of assisting recovery for the patient.

Audio file extract from video 'Psychiatric Art: an illustrated talk by Dr Eric Cunningham Dax; introduced by David J. de L. Horne', 1982

Contributors
Dr David J de L Horne
Dr Eric Cunningham Dax
Professor Emeritus Brian Davies
Mr Ray Marginson
The Dax Centre

“Just as in its namesake, One flew over the cuckoo’s nest, this image looks at sanity and insanity and the stigma around this.

A distressed figure looks out, with the term often used, Cuckoo, laying beside the figure emphasizing the concept of madness. Just as the film questions, 'What is madness?', the image means to convey darkness and the concept of individuality.”

- Artist statement

oil and collage on canvas

60.1 x 60.2 cm

Oil and collage on Canvas

100.5 x 60.5 cm

"After years of taking prescribed medications, many of which didn't work or had horrible side effects, I have come to the belief that many health professionals are happier to prescribe than not.

I understand the stigma that we don't want 'crazy' people walking the streets but hey, most of us are pretty normal when it comes down to it. The tile refers to the adventures of Alice, and how easy it is to simply take the pill."

- Artist statement

Felt tip pen on paper

29.7 x 21 cm

“I really think this work’s natural home is the CDC [the Cunningham Dax Collection]. To me it is the work of both a professional artists and an outsider artist.

I believe I’m an outsider artist in that this work has no compromise in its imagery. This work has poured out of me without censure. I haven’t been concerned whether it’s beautiful, whether it’s disturbing, whether it’s good. My modus operandi is self expression with no compromise, striving for genius.

The image of the skull in the Picasso’s work represents war. To me this work reflects not only my own personal pondering of mortality but also the ongoing destruction of the beautiful earth in which we live.”

- Artist Statement

digital print of original drawings, reworked with ink and felt markers

100 x 140 cm

"Like any worky, worky work muck muck as the gray tart teast in astrailer accompanying laughter ha ha."

- Artist Statement

digital print of original drawing, reworked with ink and correction fluid

42.1 x 29.6 cm each

"I declare myself open and shut to any critik or coachroach gone underground for the winter or loseter. A blood and thunder press release from the doilet papers.

I know this is a bit mad, but what can you expect from a man Abbott mad madman as mad as a cut nace. I hope this little nut note finds you helen wappy, well and happy."

Love Crazy Grazy.

- Artist Statement

digital print of original drawing, reworked with ink and correction fluid

42.1 x 29.6 cm each

"After accidentally discovering what a powerful tool subjective artwork can be, I began collecting records of all my drawings. At the same time I recorded my depressions.

A study of symbolism and Jungian psychology directed me further into subjective experiential exploration.

Critical evaluation of the recurring themes allowed me to find some order in the chaos of constant depression.

In 'Mother in the Moon' there is energy and anger. It's about the part the mother plays in the theatre of incest. You tell me what that is.

When I first drew this I didn’t have an intent to portray any special subject, but a strong emotion was the source. Even when it was finished I didn’t know ‘What it was about’, until I was describing it to a group and realized ‘Mother in the Moon’ is about being remote – which my mother was.”

- Artist Statement

charcoal and pastel

57.4 x 59 cm

"This work is one of a number of works, a visual record of the journey from unconscious driven behaviour to conscious change. These images express the silent cries of depression.

Nothing tells a tale so well as these leaky pictures as they emerge from my unconscious. After I became very deaf I could only talk with friends one on one. Sometimes I drew a portrait of how my intuition saw them. This friend is underwater (my way of expressing closed consciousness). She is suppressing many dangerous aspects but seems at home with this decision."

- Artist statement

mixed media on paper

76 x 56 cm

Birth Into Chaos

“Water features in many of my works. It is a strong emotion. ‘Birth Into Chaos’ was about a time when a young relative was sent to stay until her baby was born. It maybe reflecting on her life, and the life that the baby may have, being born in these circumstances. The idea of throwing out a beautiful daughter comes to mind.”

- Artist statement

mixed media on paper

59.7 x 56.2 cm