New Scientist Book Club: Read an extract from Art Cure by Daisy Fancourt

Russell stood with his hand on the door wondering if he should go in. It just wasn’t his scene. He was only here because his doctor told him to come.

It started with a stroke. He was walking home from work when the blood supply to the base of his brain was blocked and the world turned sideways. He had to learn to walk again, to talk. It had been months of him lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, panicking about his future. He got such bad back pain that he couldn’t sit up. He lost his job, his relationship with his partner fell apart, he could no longer play with his son, he gained weight, he could not sleep. When he fell asleep, his breathing stopped constantly, so he had to wear a mask over his head at night and force air into his lungs to keep his airways open. His doctors prescribed dozens of pills, but new problems kept piling up. He could feel himself spiraling into depression.

When his doctor first prescribed eight weeks of art classes, Russell thought it was a joke for a moment. How was art supposed to help? But he didn’t feel like he had anything to lose, so he opened the door.

First class wasn’t as bad as he expected. He didn’t paint, he just watched the others in the class. But somehow just being among the colors and the colors and the calming atmosphere affected it, and when he was coming home he noticed that his breathing was slower and deeper and he felt a little calmer than when he came in. The next week was not so dismal. He met a few other people. Again, he did no art. But he couldn’t sleep that night, so he snuck out and sat in the garden shed and drew little caricatures of the people in the art group. In the third grade, he picked up a paintbrush. Russell still isn’t sure how it escalated so quickly after that, but a few weeks later he found himself standing in front of an art group to announce an idea he had: paint them all portraits.

I first met Russell at 6am in the basement of the Premier Inn cafe in Manchester. We were both waiting to go on TV BBC Breakfast news program which talks about a new proposal to introduce “prescription art” across the National Health Service. Over cups of instant coffee, I tried to grasp the magnitude of the experience he was telling me about.

At the next checkup, Russell explained, his doctor was satisfied with his progress. His mood improved and his pain was less. Even his blood pressure was better. Art class gave structure to his week and he found himself looking forward to it. At the next check-up, they started revising his medication, but the doctor didn’t feel he needed that much. His sleep was also better.

As his portraits neared completion, Russell approached the Gloucester Museum to ask if they would allow him to hold an exhibition of the paintings in their cafe. He called the exhibition “We’re all crazy here”. Among the participants were his classmates and his doctor. Shortly after, he received his first commission – a sister who came to the exhibition wanted him to paint her children. That was just the beginning.

In the decade since, Russell Haines has exhibited his artwork across the UK, from Gloucester Cathedral to the Tower of London. His pieces sell for thousands of pounds (if you can get your hands on one fast enough). He was also running his own classes back in the community and his doctor was referring more patients. He is not taking any pills today. He hasn’t even had to see his doctor in over a year.

I asked him, “How much of a difference do you think the art classes actually made for you? How much of an impact are we talking about?”

He didn’t even miss a break.

“They saved my life.

This is an excerpt from Daisy Fancourt’s Art Cure: The Science of How Art Transforms Our Health (Cornerstone Press), March reading for the New Scientist Book Club. Sign up to read along with us here

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