World Mental Health Day 2023 – Sharing Lectures on Art & Mental Health
For Mental Health Awareness Day 2023, Together are excited to share video recordings from our recent Henry Hawkins lecture to celebrate our chosen theme of art and mental health.
In September this year Together were delighted to host the first of a series of annual lectures in honour of our founder, Rev. Henry Hawkins. This year’s event focused on the relationship between art and mental health and our incredible keynote speakers shared reflections on how art can have a transformative and healing impact on people experiencing mental distress, how art can be a tool for hope and a positive impact on our mental wellbeing. The event also featured original spoken word and music curated and performed by alumna and students studying at the Guildhall School of Music and Drama. We are excited to share video recordings of these performances with you now.
The full text from Tane’s poem is provided here:
Watching Paint Dry
When I wake up, I let the pale morning down on my head
(Sometimes I try to see how much I can hold in the gaps
before I start spilling
crying on the train again)
I want to be a miracle, someone that isn’t afraid of a little mysticism.
I want to be a miracle. That is to say, I want to be a cryptid. Something someone will see.
Something that is disputed. Different accounts of the same thing. Something incomprehensible. Something I can write stories about.
Something gold and shining. Wearing eyeshadow in the dark parts of town.
Nail polish coming off on our teeth.
Buoyant, running, throwing ourselves to the weather. Considering my body and my mind – a church being rebuilt.
(I will learn to love myself in every format, every frame, be as simple
as moving and learning the new way home)
I brought my old bed with me
the stickers still peeling
Sometimes I try to see how much I can hold in the gaps
before I start spilling, watering the garden, helping the paint mix, waiting for the sky to turn to filigree.
I am sure that to keep myself sane I must keep at least one part of the flat clean.
If I can just keep the kitchen surface clean, I know that I am coping.
If I can just keep the bathroom sink clean, I will know that I am coping.
I am sure that to keep myself sane I must do the joyful, small things.
If I can read one page of a book, sketch something small, listen to one song on that album that just came out.
At least if I am an empty restaurant, somewhere, the tables being set in the white noise. A fresh coat of colour on the walls.
At least if no one arrives today,
I can sample the ghost. Have a rest. Pull up a chair.
The open sign turned closed; the blinds pulled tightly round the sun.
The Henry Hawkins Lecture will take place again in 2024 and if you’d like to be notified about that and other events we organise please complete the form below: