Beginning a series of extracts from the 'Asylum Diary' written by Britta von Zweigbergk. Now a Centrepieces trustee, she worked at Bexley Hospital until it closed and kept a detailed journal of her time there in the hospital's Art Therapy Department. They paint a vivid picture of what working in the mental health sector was like over twenty years ago. The selection of entries for this blog begins in 1984...
Wednesday 1 February 1984
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| A selection of work by 'GG'. |
I got a shock when I walked into the Art Therapy Department this morning. The damp smell that has been troubling us
for a few days was even more pervasive, and the cupboard had been moved to the
back door.
It was strangely unnerving to come
in, prepared for a quiet morning as is usual on Wednesday when we are closed to
patients, to suddenly see someone rise out of the floor wet and smelling of
sewage. It’s a good thing my heart is
fairly sound.
Evidently there is a blockage in the
drains – certainly, the end of the department and store room have been smelling
very damp, and the floor in my office is gradually subsiding into the labyrinth
of cellars below.
Dudley helped me move the cupboard
into the office. It’s a lot better in
there anyway, and, as he said, it could be to our advantage in the long run – our
floors will finally be repaired.
I have warned people that if I do
not emerge after a period of time from the office, please explore as I might have
disappeared into the cellars underneath, never to be seen or heard of again – another
of the unsolved mysteries connected to Bexley Hospital.
GG was on hand to help and to move
his paintings to a safer place. After all the hard and unexpected work, he
certainly regretted coming in so early. “I should have gone
to collect my wages,” he
commented ruefully .
I am taking BH and GG to the
Tate Gallery later this morning. I’ve arranged the hospital taxi to take us to Swanley Station, where we
can get a train to Victoria and then the underground to Pimlic. Much quicker
than going from Bexley station to Charing Cross.
Later…
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| The back door of the Art Therapy Department, with the Art Department bike! |
BH seemed impressed but a little
tense. I wondered whether he may have felt a bit out of place in our
surroundings – being very much a ‘man’s man’. Culturally it may not have been entirely
acceptable for him to go to galleries and museums. He was reluctant to be seen
in the cafeteria; he said he would stick out like a sore thumb. Overall, though,
I think he was pleased to have gone to the Tate and enjoyed seeing the
different pieces; he has a natural affinity with shapes and sculpture. It’s
pleasing to see this natural ability developing in the open art therapy
sessions in the department.
