{"id":28367,"date":"2015-04-02T03:30:54","date_gmt":"2015-04-02T09:30:54","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/artistsofutah.org\/15Bytes\/?p=28367"},"modified":"2018-10-09T15:06:05","modified_gmt":"2018-10-09T21:06:05","slug":"whats-my-name-dementia-on-exhibit-at-art-access","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/artistsofutah.org\/15Bytes\/whats-my-name-dementia-on-exhibit-at-art-access\/","title":{"rendered":"The Art of Losing Someone Who’s Still There: Dementia on Exhibit at Art Access"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"Vilnius-Altimer\"<\/a>

“Lone Vilnius, “Altimer”<\/p><\/div>\n

You\u2019d expect an art show about Alzheimer\u2019s to be dreary, depressing and certainly just for people of an age to be facing the disease. But What\u2019s My Name?<\/em> at Art Access turns out to be an exhibition that will fascinate most anyone.<\/p>\n

As executive director Sheryl Gillilan says, \u201cThe stories \u2014 it\u2019s all about the stories. The abstract depiction of Alzheimer\u2019s disease progression, the humorous moments that arise when confusion and forgetfulness overtake minds, and the pain of losing someone you love even though they\u2019re still there.\u201d<\/p>\n

One in 10 of us will lose our minds to some form of dementia before we die: more than 5 million Americans live with Alzheimer\u2019s today (28,000 of them in Utah); that number is expected to increase by 50 percent just in this state by 2025.<\/p>\n

The exhibit comprises art by those who suffer from the disease and those who care for them and it is powerful stuff. It shows how creative expression \u201cstimulates memory, linking present and past, and how art making helps caregivers process the daily frustrations and fears that accompany their changing roles as their loved ones\u2019 cognitive function slips away.\u201d<\/p>\n

Peg Hardin\u2019s partner of 27 years, Margaret Hill, was a retired middle-school art teacher when she began showing signs of memory loss and cognitive challenges that would last for more than a decade until she lost her battle with Alzheimer\u2019s in January of this year. The two began taking art classes together after they retired and Margaret\u2019s ability is apparent in \u201cSonoma Hills,\u201d painted en plein air, and \u201cLittle House in the Trees,\u201d a beauty when she first completed it. But she returned to it in 2009 (when she needed assistance with activities), using thick paint — strong colors right out of the tube \u2013 with quite different results. It was her last solo painting.<\/p>\n

In 2013, during a home visit, Peg helped Margaret by squirting out paint and handing her friend a brush, then turning the board for her and adding more paint. This was titled \u201cCollaboration 50:50.\u201d Later works became more by Peg and less by her partner; the last one was called \u201cCollaboration 80:40.\u201d<\/p>\n

This compelling and instructive portion of the exhibition is difficult to move away from.\u00a0 But there is much more to see.<\/p>\n

When Kathryn Romney was diagnosed with Alzheimer\u2019s, she and her husband, Leonard, made the decision not to keep it a secret from family, friends or even the media, which has helped to dispel the stigma often associated with the disease. Leonard Romney had been taking art lessons from Marian Dunn and, after hearing about the positive results of creating art for people with Alzheimer\u2019s, Kathryn decided she wanted lessons, too, and Dunn agreed.\u00a0 While Leonard\u2019s excellent \u201cAlzheimer\u2019s Disease from a Caregiver\u2019s Perspective,\u201d a watercolor, pen & ink, probably reflects his wife\u2019s immediate decision not to drive, asking him to be her chauffeur, it\u2019s a little more difficult to gauge from where her watercolors arise. The small and evocative \u201cHow the Fox Ate Alice in Wonderland\u201d is delightful and deserves a close look; the painterly \u201cAutumn Leaves \u2013 Nature\u2019s Alzheimer\u2019s?\u201d also elicits a thoughtful response.<\/p>\n

Curator Sue Martin\u2019s paintings tell stories of her father\u2019s descent into Alzheimer\u2019s and his struggles with Parkinson\u2019s disease.\u00a0 She kept a daily blog as a way of sorting out feelings and staying in touch with family and friends. Years later, bits of the blog and other memories inspired this series of loose and colorful paintings that look at the \u201calternate universe of \u2018La La Land.\u2019\u201d One, for example, shows her father sitting on the bed in his underwear, with a bevy of women across the room. The story that accompanies the work explains that he suffered incontinence at night and when her mother asked why he didn\u2019t just get up and go to the bathroom, Martin\u2019s father explained that he would have except for the fact that there were all these women in the closet!<\/p>\n

Irene Rampton\u2019s facile watercolors of her father are sad and memorable. One, called \u201cFading Away,\u201d in watery blues and blacks, shows a fractured face. Hanging beside it, in a bright palette of healthy skin tones, a red and white checkered shirt and sunny yellow background is a hopeful portrait of the same man before dementia struck. \u00a0He suffered from memory loss and dementia for nearly 20 years, his last 10 years living in four different care facilities, his daughter recalls.<\/p>\n

Lone\u2019 Vilnius, the \u201cdaughter of an Alzheimer\u2019s mother,\u201d offers captivating assemblages, two of which had sold at the time of this visit. A very large one has to do with time \u2013 an important subject for those dealing with this illness. Another, a box containing a bisque doll\u2019s head topped with an exposed brain, has a candle half burned down, another reference to time. \u201cUnraveled\u201d is an enormous spool of twine (unraveling) on a silver-colored stand with bunches of keys on rings (don\u2019t we all lose those?) hanging from strands of colorful wooden beads. \u201cI often worry about my own life journey,\u201d says Vilnius, \u201cand am reminded of these words, \u2018Don\u2019t worry that you can\u2019t find your keys .. .only worry if you no longer know what they are for.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n

Abstract artist Jerry Hardesty says, \u201cThe emotion I felt when I entered the Alzheimer\u2019s unit to visit Mom was overwhelming. Sitting in a chair, she was slumping to her left as she was being spoon-fed. Tears filled my eyes. Where was my Mom? I wanted to remember her when she became a belly dancer in her sixties. Mom hadn\u2019t recognized me for years . . .\u201d<\/p>\n

He paints with acrylic, house paint, and oil pastel on cradled panel. He paints in layers. He scrapes and sands and repaints. \u201cEach layer is a response to the previous one,\u201d he says. He paints the seven stages of Alzheimer\u2019s in acrylic abstraction. You will understand more than you thought possible.<\/p>\n

\u201cMuse,\u201d a collage by Elizabeth Bette Barbano is a truly lovely work by someone who helps people with Alzheimer\u2019s exercise creativity and creates art for her own pleasure.<\/p>\n

As Gillilan says: \u201cArt really can save lives, or at least help you process difficult emotions. \u00a0And nowhere is that clearer than in this exhibit. \u00a0Caregivers of loved ones with Alzheimer\u2019s express pain, disappointment and humor, and people who currently have Alzheimer\u2019s use art to express what is no longer expressible.<\/p>\n

\u201cThis is one of those \u2018Why we get out of bed\u2019 exhibits\u2014we\u2019re honored to offer an exhibit like this to the community, and to have viewers and participants tell us how meaningful and moving the art is to them.\u201d<\/p>\n