The Myth of the Tortured Artist: how to create art whilst in recovery
Written by Kate Gough
We often relate sadness to talent, the suffering and starving artists are those with the ability to create rather than consume. In art and literature, that which is small and diminutive is thought of as beautiful, and the death of a beautiful woman is thought to be poetic. Ophelia of Shakespeare and Joan of Arc, these women are thought to be virtuous and beautiful because they suffered. Vincent van Gogh, Ernest Hemingway, Sylvia Plath, these painters and writers’ legacies are shrouded with the narrative of the tortured artist. Today, it exists within the romanization of mental illness on platforms such as Tumblr and TikTok, girls writing poetry on their arms, about their experiences with depression and anxiety.
Now, accurate depiction of mental illness does exist, however it should never romanticize the suffering. The key here is whether the person making the art feels they must continue to perform their pain in order to maintain their audience. Oftentimes, artists curate a brand of sadness, and they don’t want to recover, because it would be betraying their art. This not only creates a toxic relationship to art, but it also encourages the audience to expect and feast upon the suffering of the artist, thus perpetuating the idea of anti-recovery.
Now, you may be wondering, “How can I exist and make art whilst in recovery, within these constructs?” Thousands of years of valorizing suffering, as if it were righteous and virtuous to be in pain, how can one begin to deconstruct this narrative? I can’t give you all the answers, however, I do have one counterthought.
We cannot pick up a brush, or type on the typewriter, or mould clay when we are wailing on the floor in searing pain. We do so afterwards. We pick ourselves up, and we channel the pain into the art. Art that transcends the need to romanticize pain, but instead depicts it in its bare and gory details. We are honest with ourselves and in our art. But first, we have to pick ourselves up. Vincent van Gogh’s most famous paintings were painted when he was in the hospital, trying to get better. They weren’t made when he was in his most depressed. When we choose to make art out of our pain, we are choosing to get better. We are choosing recovery. We are choosing growth. That choice, negates the glorification of suffering, and instead rebels against it, and screams “I tried! If I suffer again, I will try once more!” That is the role of the artist. To scream back at the void which consumes us, and perhaps offer an antidote to life’s suffering.
Now you may be wondering, must I suffer to be a good artist? The answer is no, you mustn’t. You needn’t have had a hard life. However, you must be in tune with the suffering of the world. You must be observant of life’s pain, and depict it sincerely. This doesn’t mean that you have to be a “suffering artist”. You don’t need to be diagnosed with depression in order to write a beautiful poem. Instead, write what you notice about the good and the bad parts of life. Notice the balance. Be honest, and in tune with the sensory parts of life. Notice how things smell and taste and feel. Tactile imagery about candlelight flickering can be just as impactful as a morose poem about heartbreak.
Trying to make art when you are going through a hard time, it is an act of courage. But you most likely are not going to have the energy or emotional capacity to do so, when you are in the thick of it. So please process first, and then, when you are ready, get up off the dusty floor, and make art.
KATE GOUGH is a Canadian based poet and a member of the online poetry community. Her work modernizes romantic literary sensibilities and explores recovery from chronic illness and trauma. Her philosophy is one close to the Danish “Hygge” which is, the celebration of cosiness. Warm socks, hot tea, and candlelight are her favourite writing tools.