Mila Daskalova, Julia Macintosh, Cheryl McGeachan, and Azra Khan organised the Figments: Madness, Health and Creativity Conference. In this piece, they reflect on how the conference unfolded, examining how delving into the history of madness fosters connection, belonging, and continuity for the mad present.
‘Mad is a starting point.’ This phrase, borrowed from Tasha Downs’s presentation at the ‘Figments: Madness, Health and Creativity’ conference (University of Glasgow, 15 June), perfectly captures the event’s aspirations. A collaboration between the Medical Humanities Research Centre and the Centre for Mad Culture UK, the conference sought to foster a multidisciplinary conversation about the relationship between art and madness, bringing the lived experience of madness to the forefront.
Though called a ‘conference’, the event aimed to disrupt the traditional format, making it less rigid in form and more inviting to affective responses, spontaneity, and organic connections. To encourage this, delegates’ name badges contained no titles or institutional affiliations. The event was attended by over 60 people from across the UK, the US, Canada, and Europe. Among the delegates were representatives of local community-led projects, artists, writers, activists, clinicians, therapists, and researchers from a diverse array of academic disciplines (literary studies, history, Mad studies, disability studies, geography, the medical and health humanities, and sociology). Many of those present had lived experience of madness.
Refusing to stick to a single linear narrative and keen to include as many of the fantastic proposals we received as possible, we designed the event to run as two parallel streams of talks in two different rooms, which reunited everyone during the breaks, the keynote, and the final performance over drinks. The panels combined academic presentations with artistic performances and personal reflections on experiences of madness, confinement, care, and creativity. During the breaks, attendees could visit interactive displays of artworks, archives, and promotional materials from the partnering organisations and the Oor Mad History group at CAPS, the independent advocacy organisation operating in Lothian, East Lothian, and Midlothian. Archival materials, creative writing, visual art, sound pieces, song, dance, and theatre all combined to create a kaleidoscopic, multi-sensory space governed by a spirit of exploration, empathy, and trust, built around the knowledge that we are all strangers in a strange land inhabited by voices from the past and the present.
Coming to terms with the past
The past tenses of madness are particularly elusive. Even when trying to recover one’s own madness, memories are often fleeting and imperfect. The minds of people from the past are even harder to read. Yet delving into the history of madness holds promises for new insights into the mad present. History can bring people together and promote a sense of connection, belonging, and continuity. This was amply demonstrated by Hazel McMichael when recounting her curation of a co-produced art installation at Charleston (the home and studio of the Bloomsbury Group’s Vanessa Bell and Duncan Grant).
However, history is often partial to certain groups and selective of what and how it remembers. How do we represent the stories of others, especially when they cannot tell them themselves? And how does one write one’s own history when regular language fails?
Several of the speakers at the conference tackled these questions. Louisa Fairclough’s pained but tender voice echoed in the room, and narrated her experience of psychosis over a unique soundtrack: her own personal sound archive consisting of recordings and music she made in her distress. Sea Sharp reflected on their lineage of madness pieced together through a vast family archive of papers, scrapbooks and artworks of their schizophrenic and artistically talented grandmother. Chris Philo took us to Ellamatta – the imagined world jointly inhabited by lived experience artist Jan(ella) Carswell Lewis Benjamin (1943-2024) and her partner, Arthur Wolfe Mandelson. Together these talks showcased the possibilities of art in conveying deeply personal experiences and the importance of trusting embodied intuitive knowing in our work on madness and creativity.
They also raised questions about privacy, agency, representation, and the limitations of knowing, a theme that was expanded upon and developed further in subsequent presentations. For instance, Katie L. O’Neill drew attention to the injustice suffered by mad artists of the past and the present. By showing the considerable yet unacknowledged influence of mad art on prominent figures in the Surrealism and Art Brüt movements (such as André Breton and Max Ernst), she posed questions about current practices of representing and valuing mad artists’ work. Turning to literature, Burkhart Brückner discussed the ethical concerns surrounding the publication of historical first-person narratives of madness and psychiatric treatment (including accounts quoted in medical publications and reports). Would the authors of these accounts wish their stories to be published? Brückner argued that many of these texts were already out in the world, either forgotten or wrapped in medical frameworks and suggested that drawing attention to them while respecting anonymity could promote more considerate inclusion within the literary tradition.
A few of the speakers explored the functions of creative practice in psychiatric settings throughout history and the complexities of interpreting creative work produced during detainment. Mary Chapman showed that, in the nineteenth century, writing for the Crichton Institution’s magazine, The New Moon, promoted patients’ recovery and self-expression. Cultural activity remained an important aspect of life in psychiatric institutions throughout the twentieth century. Drawing on the experience of their uncle at the Broadmoor high-security hospital and a rich, though neglected, archive (including a periodical, the Broadmoor Chronicle), Han Dee highlighted instances of patients’ creative resistance and social critique in the face of institutional neglect, abuses, and the stigma of their psychiatric and criminal records. Returning to the present, Xavi Nottidge criticised the lack of creative opportunities in today’s clinical settings, where inspiration and encouragement are rarely found, smothered by preoccupations with budget cuts and efficient spending. As one of the delegates reflected during the Q&A, researchers studying the remnants of human creativity preserved in personal and institutional archives tend to be conscious of what has survived but not of what was never created due to restrictive treatments and the uninspiring (if not oppressive) environments of psychiatric care.
The playful futures of madness
The conference also looked at the future and envisioned new possibilities for expression, communication, and care. Tasha Downs showcased the untapped analytical potential of madness, which could generate new insight into creative works. Through his new creative piece titled ‘The Sound Of Sirens’, Glasgow-based artist Luke ‘Luca’ Cockayne provoked reflection on the responsibility of presenting artistic work dealing with painful experiences and difficult subjects. Kerry Lane’s exploratory excavations into cultivating epistemic justice inspired discussions about ethical life as a creative practice. By focusing on translation, Lane showed the importance of treating individuals as authorities on their own experiences. Mallory Minerson continued debates into ethical domains through her work with incarcerated indigenous women in the Northwest Territories, Canada. Spotlighting the complexities of working within carceral spaces and Western models of care, Minerson showed the importance of creative expression for voicing what had never been heard.
Our keynote speaker, anna six, delved into the work of comedic artist Kim Noble to explore radical alternative models of being that challenge modern-day pressures of self-monitoring and regulation. Amidst widespread pathologisation of psychic life, especially among children, six urged us to consider embracing absurdity, cherishing vulnerability and engaging in playful transgression as acts of defiant survival of the creative self.
This is what K Zimmer achieved in their captivating reading from a manuscript finalised minutes before the conference: a radiant waterfall of words, a celebration of mad aesthetics and its potential not only to express but to promote intuitive understanding and emotional bonding beyond the confines of grammar and logic. In a similar vein, Nicole Marchesseau reflected on the relationships built with artists while exploring the ill-defined realm of ‘mad art’ and on the mutual understanding that a moment of shared joy among the chestnut trees of the Arboretum in Guelph, Ontario could generate. Building on Arthur Franks’s concept of the ‘chaos narrative’, Calanthe Milton showed that creative media such as video and roleplaying board games could effectively convey the chaos of madness and chronic illness.
The engagement of mad communities will be central in the creation of these playful futures. Community fellowship was beautifully illustrated by Sarah Jackson, editor of Inner Worlds – a magazine of speculative fiction that offers its contributors and readers a place to explore difficult mental and emotional experiences through the genres of fantasy, science fiction, and horror. Meanwhile, the conference served as a springboard for the launch of a new project by the Centre for Mad Culture UK. Julia Macintosh announced the call for submissions for a forthcoming Book of Mad Insight – an invitation directed specifically to the mad community as a platform for the mad voice and mad perspectives.
The day ended with a playful performance-lecture, ‘The Mad Therapist: Healing the World from Sanist Oppression’, by Berlin-based activist, artist and researcher Rosch Eberl. Accompanied by popular pop tunes and two dancing packs of antipsychotic drugs, the mad woman and the psychiatrist (both impersonated by Eberl, at times simultaneously) made us revel in the messiness of human experience and appreciate once again the importance of the Mad voice: a voice of unapologetic honesty and stubborn, hopeful mirth despite the frustrations of the existing systems of care and neglect.
About the authors
Mila Daskalova is a British Academy Postdoctoral Fellow at the University of Glasgow. Her research explores the early development of psychiatry in conversation with literary culture. She has just published her first book, The Nineteenth-Century Asylum Periodical (Cambridge University Press, 2026).
Julia Macintosh is the founding director of the Centre for Mad Culture UK, which is based in Edinburgh, Scotland. She also sits on the editorial collectives of both Unpsychology Magazine and Asylum: the radical mental health magazine. Julia blogs on Substack and can be found at juliamacintosh.online.
Cheryl McGeachan is a Senior Lecturer in Human Geography at the University of Glasgow. Her research specialises in understanding the lived worlds of mental ill-health and distress. She has worked extensively in collaboration with lived experience communities to explore creative practice and expression.
Azra Khan is a Mad activist, writer and artist based in Edinburgh. She is the co-director of the Centre for Mad Culture UK and the facilitator for the Oor Mad History Collective Advocacy group, a community history project that amplifies the power of lived experience, activism, and advocacy.
Acknowledgement
The conference received funding from the British Academy and the University of Glasgow’s Lord Kelvin/Adam Smith Fellowship Scheme.
