Art as Healing and Survival – The Story of Elizabeth Layton
What might creative expressions of aging do for hearts and minds? What impact might they have on our psyche, our mental health, our sense of self and others?
Art can be enacted as a process, a collaboration, an individual reflection, a shared social message or discourse. But art – as process and product – can also impact the ways in which we understand ourselves and what matters, to shift our psychological perspective, to inspire new perspectives on our lives and relationships. As you consider art in its many forms, have you experienced a piece of artwork in any medium which touched your soul deeply? How would you describe its impact on your worldview or self-understanding?
We can understand the potential and realized impact of art as therapeutic process through the lives of older artists. One notable story of such impact can be found in the memoire and personal collections of local artist Elizabeth “Grandma” Layton (1909 – 1993). Layton discovered the art of blind contour drawing when she was 68 years old through a local university course. She became a prolific artist, producing over 1,200 pieces in 16 years. Her work has been displayed in over 200 art museums across the country, including the Smithsonian’s National Museum of Art. Layton struggled with severe mental illness throughout her adult life and often credited her drawing with having cured her depression.
While Layton’s artwork has been displayed many times in local venues, her personal correspondence and documentation of her life and work illustrate her personal, humble reflections on the impact of her work, for herself and others.
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First: Transverse Shadows essay, 1985
Call Number: RH MS 1538, Box 1, Folder 4
Second and third: Signs Along the Way memoir, 2013
Call Number: RH C12442
Born Elizabeth Converse in Wellsville, Kansas, Layton was raised by a family of writers and journalists. In adulthood, she edited her local newspaper for several years, of which her father was the prior managing editor and for which her mother wrote a column and opening poem. Layton struggled with severe mental health issues throughout her life, in part due to early life challenges and a very conflicted first marriage. These struggles are detailed in her memoire, Signs Along the Way, which was written by three of her granddaughters following her death with portions written directly by Layton.
Layton’s mental health struggles were severe enough that she underwent several electroshock therapy sessions at a time when the treatments’ results were uneven and side effects intense. In her essay, Transverse Shadows, written in 1959, she describes the confusion, disorientation, and horror she felt during this ultimately unsuccessful intervention. It was not until 1977 at the age of 68 that she took her first blind contour drawing course at a local university and developed a strong affinity for the practice. As she stated, within the following year of continuous and intensive drawing, she felt that her depression had been cured.
Layton’s memoire includes several reproductions of some of her most well-known pieces. Here, Fear depicts the artist cowering in a closet, staring at an empty prescription bottle. Of the piece, her granddaughters state, “This picture probably had the most impact on Grandma Layton’s grandchildren...we had no idea that Grandma was once this woman, she had kept that secret well.”
The following page shows Nike, Winged Victory, also drawn in 1981, which her granddaughters describe as capturing a turning point in Layton’s mental health and life journey. Of the piece, the artist stated, “She has struggled and toiled up a lifetime of steps. Now she is where she wants to be, has taken off her running shoes, and is ready to fly. Scars, where the arms and head of the statue were broken off, now are only hallmarks of the new and everlasting growth.”
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First and second: Photos of blind contour drawing in process, not dated
Call Number: RH MS 1538, Box 12, Folder 6
Third: Photo of Layton and Lambert, not dated
Call Number: RH MS 1538, Box 12, Folder 4
The process of blind contour drawing requires the artist to draw while looking solely at one’s subject as opposed to observing the artist’s paper and the line being drawn. Focusing on the subject of one’s drawing is meant to improve focus and relies on the hand-eye coordination of the artist. Layton almost always drew what she saw in the mirror, and her work often depicts herself in various situations – sitting on her porch swing, standing on a bathroom scale, as Eve in the Garden of Eden, as the Mona Lisa. She also drew her second husband, Glenn, in different settings, always capturing their wrinkled skin, stark expressions, and white hair in unflinching detail.
Layton’s work was quickly discovered and captured the attention and appreciation of journalist Don Lambert, who became her greatest supporter, promoter, and facilitator of her many art shows and exhibitions. Her personal correspondence includes many hand-written notes between herself and Lambert, coordinating meetings, planning for various shows, and discussing her experiences with the many reporters who visited her home in order to tell her story through different outlets.
Despite the eventual wide reach of her work, Layton rarely attended the opening of one of her shows and never sold a drawing, choosing instead to gift her work to various recipients. To one reporter, Layton described the cure of her mental illness through drawing as a form of miracle: “If I sell my work, the miracle might go away.” To her, the importance of her work seemed to be in its capacity for creating social connection, meaning making, and increased understanding of self and others.
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How to Draw by Blind Contour, not dated
Call Number: RH MS 1538, Box 2, Folder 8
Layton became fascinated by the healing affect that drawing had in her life. She researched the mechanisms of art therapy and blind contour drawing, aiming to find reliable sources of expertise on the topic and reading any materials she could access. Through her friend, Don Lambert, she also reached out to and was connected with Robert Ault, a practicing Art Therapist working at the Menninger Mental Health Foundation, then located in Topeka, Kansas.
Her discussion with Ault validated and reaffirmed her belief in the power of art as a form of healing. Together, they drafted a series of steps that one might follow in order to apply contour drawing as a form of art therapy. Ault and Layton developed a long-standing friendship and professional partnership with Layton serving as a willing research participant and case study in Ault’s many professional articles and presentations. In 1992, the two also provided testimony to the U.S. Senate to argue for the inclusion of art therapy in the Older Americans Reauthorization Act.
Layton was generous in sharing her experiences and insights with anyone who asked, answering questions about her life and art for school-aged youth, warmly inviting reporters into her Wellsville home, and maintaining correspondence with many professional and personal contacts.
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Elizabeth Layton, The MAG, 1981
Call Number: RH MS R328
Layton’s life story has been documented in many publications and each offers a distinctive perspective on her history, life, and artwork. Some journalists and critics were clearly inspired by her work, describing it as prolific, touching, stunning, original, and captivating. Others, such as Eric Gibson writing for Life Magazine in 1992, described her one woman show at the Smithsonian as “kitsch of the most unalloyed kind” and an “egregious howler,” stating that her autobiographical work could not stand alone without detailing her personal story and intentions of the pieces in great detail. In expressing distaste for Layton’s personal descriptions of her work, he portrayed the artist as “a largely self-taught octogenarian grandmother given to inscribing her work with morsels of teabag folk wisdom.”
In both generous and harsh descriptions of her work and personal characteristics, we can also see various discourses around aging emerge, such as evidence of internalized ageism, positive or benevolent ageism, arguments in support of the value of elders and their wisdom, and the authors’ belief in art as therapeutic process (or a lack thereof), among others.
Layton was certainly well aware of her critics, describing the impact of her work as “potent” in the perspective of both appreciative and critical audiences. Of her work, she stated, “What I draw is for other people who are like me and may be troubled by their feelings...whether this is art or not...I don’t care.” Despite some critical reception, many agree that Layton’s work captures a particular voice, perspective, and beauty, having a notable staying power which has gone on to capture the attention of and inspire many intergenerational audiences.