- Email: [email protected]
Expression through art helps patients with cancer cope
seem improved—in the real-life trials, 42% of the sample group showed a significant response. Interwoven with Slamon’s travails— which really amount to nothing more than an office power struggle—are storylines concerning several women in varying stages of breast cancer. Director Dan Ireland isn’t wholly certain that his audience will grasp the connection between Slamon’s activities in the laboratory and the real world. So he offers the occasional helpful reminder. Ellie Jackson (Regina King), for example, asks her doctor about her postdiagnosis options; “mastectomy, chemotherapy and radiation therapy”, he replies. “There’s got to be something else”, Ellie says. “Not yet”, says the doctor. A pause follows.
There are all kinds of problems with Living Proof: amateur performances, a misfiring script, and an unwavering sentimentality. The film concludes with Slamon running around a track. Trastuzumab has been approved. The stadium slowly fills with the film’s female characters—dead and alive— and they start cheering him on. At which point, to distract myself from the on-screen events, I started wondering about Living Proof’s attitude to women. Here’s a film about a man who holds the power of life and death over virtually all the women around him, none of whom can hold a candle to him intellectually. His neglected wife—played with dutiful emotion by Paula Cale—contentedly accepts that her desires are nothing compared with her husband’s. None of
Skip Bolen, Lifetime Networks, 2008
Cancer and Society
Dr Slamon thanks his patients for participating in the phase I trial
which need trouble feminist theorists too much, since I suspect Living Proof will soon be dead forgotten.
Talha Burki [email protected]
Transcending depression and fear, displaying courage in the face of adversity, and experiencing feelings of hope and renewal—these were some of the many inspiring themes explored in more than 300 works of art on display at an awards ceremony, held October 22, 2008, in New York, NY, USA, for the 3rd biennial art competition, Lilly Oncology on Canvas: Expressions of a Cancer Journey. The competition, presented by Eli Lilly and Company, in partnership with the USA’s National Coalition for Cancer Survivorship, invites patients with cancer, their families, friends, caregivers, and health-care providers to express their feelings about contending with the disease through art and accompanying narration. “Like everyone else, I long for the day when we don’t need an Oncology on Canvas”, says Richard Gaynor, one of the event’s award presenters and vice president of cancer research and the global oncology platform leader for Eli Lilly. When the company first established the competition in
2004, it wanted to fill a void in patient care, he explains, adding that medicine can only go so far in meeting all of the needs of individuals touched by cancer. “Survivorship—living with cancer from the moment of diagnosis—has its challenges”, says Gaynor, adding that it can take an emotional toll on patients and those who care about them. Although art is not a panacea, expressing feelings through a creative process complements medicine and can help people heal, he says. “The painting process is meditative, therapeutic, and healing all at the same time”, says Nikko Shabtai, of Beverly Hills, CA, USA, first prizewinner in Best of Exhibition for his acrylic painting, “As I Am, Beautiful and Whole”. His piece is of a nude woman with high cheekbones and long dark hair, who gazes serenely off the canvas. Despite missing her right breast, she seems at peace (figure 1). The creation of this image was a subconscious process, says Shabtai. During a live-model workshop, he picked up his knife instead of a brush
www.thelancet.com/oncology Vol 9 December 2008
Courtesy of Eli Lilly and Company
Art Expression through art helps patients with cancer cope
Figure 1: “As I Am, Beautiful and Whole” Winner of the 2008 Lilly Oncology on Canvas competition.
1131
Cancer and Society
and painted his subject without a breast, he explains. He later realised that his inspiration was the breast cancer diagnosis and mastectomy of a family member, as well as the illnesses that several of his friends were contending with. A fellow painter in his workshop commented that the woman in the painting was beautiful and whole and did not need her breast. Shabtai realised that he, too, thought the woman was complete. Elizabeth Menges, of Boston, MA, USA, received second place in Best of Exhibition for “C. in the Bedroom”, a series of six small oil paintings depicting the intimate daily dressing routine of a breast cancer survivor who has undergone a mastectomy
For more on the 2008 Lilly Oncology on Canvas competition see http://www. lillyoncologyoncanvas.com For more on the 2006 Lilly Oncology on Canvas competition see Lancet Oncol 2006; 7: 980–81
of colour reflects a wide range of emotions from depression and withdrawal to empowerment and the ability to plan for the future, despite her diagnosis. The other third place winner, “Traces,” is a haunting light blue and black photomontage created by Nash Hyon, of Wilton, CT, USA (figure 4). The self-portrait, produced in her late husband’s photography studio, features Hyon standing in front of the glow of a chest radiograph with her face turned away from the viewer. The work captures her feelings of loss surrounding the death of her husband from lung cancer, and explores themes of moving forward with memories of his love and support.
Courtesy of Eli Lilly and Company
For more on how art can help people heal see Lancet Oncol 2008; 9: 20–22.
(figure 2). The work captures the woman’s vulnerability as she looks at her reflection in a full-length mirror, adjusts her bra, or sits quietly on the edge of her bed. In the work’s accompanying narration, the artist states that she hopes the piece demystifies a situation that people generally avoid exploring, due to fear, and broadens the range of how a real woman looks. “Moons In The Wind”, a mixed media work produced by Barbara Litek of New York, NY, USA, expresses her journey after being diagnosed with chronic lymphocytic leukaemia and was awarded one of two thirdplace prizes given this year (figure 3). The abstract piece of bold swathes
Figure 2: “C. in the Bedroom” Second prizewinner in the Best of Competition category.
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www.thelancet.com/oncology Vol 9 December 2008
Figure 3: “Moons In The Wind” One of two third prizewinners in the Best of Competition category.
Overall, more than 600 artworks from throughout the USA and Puerto Rico were entered into this year’s event. The pieces, which included watercolours, oils, pastels, acrylics, photographs, and mixed media, represented about a 20% increase in the number of entries compared with 2006. The deadline for submissions this year was in July, and
the artwork has since been on a tour of more than 130 US cities. An independent panel of judges, comprised of an art director, cancer survivors, oncologists, journalists, and representatives from advocacy groups, selected this year’s winners. Lilly Oncology On Canvas awarded 26 prizes, totalling US$42 000 to 22 cancer charities selected by the 19 winners in various categories. The competition, which began in 2004, was initially international in scope, but was limited to the USA and Puerto Rico for the last two competitions due to the programme’s rapid growth. The company will likely announce the 2010 competition in the autumn of 2009. Although the need for another such competition is a sombering thought, seeing patients and the people who care about them explore the wide range of emotions that come with a cancer diagnosis is ultimately a lifeaffirming experience.
Heather Lindsey [email protected]
Courtesy of Eli Lilly and Company
Courtesy of Eli Lilly and Company
Cancer and Society
Figure 4: “Traces” The other third prizewinner in the Best of Competition category.
Book How Shall I Tell the Dog? “When you’ve got cancer, you notice one or two little odd things which other people don’t, one of which is the sudden proliferation round the house of skewers and knitting needles and cork-screws, sometimes covered in blood, sometimes not….because you’ve been trying to pierce new holes in your old belts.” So observes the late humorist Miles Kington in his final book, How Shall I tell the Dog’, an object lesson in how to die with style and humour, and “how to make cancer work for its living”. I should declare an interest here. Miles was both a friend and an inspiration. He launched my comedy career in 1990 (with a very favourable preview), showed me how to play
petanque (with a little alcohol on board) and taught me the secret of comedy. Most jokes have a punchline you can see coming for miles, but the best jokes take you somewhere completely unexpected. Hence the belt holes. As Miles put it: “Knowledge is knowing that a tomato is a fruit, wisdom is knowing not to put one in a fruit salad”. Miles was one of our most prolific humorists, writing a daily column for 30 years, first for The Times, and then for The Independent. Before that, he was on the staff of Punch, where he started the popular “Let’s Parler Franglais” column “which furnished four Penguin paperbacks and many middle class loos”. His own loo was
www.thelancet.com/oncology Vol 9 December 2008
stuffed with books, as was the rest of his idyllic house near Bath, England. He would write a column, share it with his wife Caroline, bake some bread, argue about the shape of the loaf, cycle to Bradford on Avon, buy some rare jazz records, stop and chat, think about tomorrow’s column, and amble home. Then he started losing weight. “In my trim days, my waist was a good, elegant 32”, but when I started to enjoy food more and take less exercise, it gradually crept up to 36”, nudging 37”….Now I’m down to 32” again. However, it’s not a slim elegant 32” any more. It is a scrawny, puckered-navel kind of thinness which means that having tightened my belts progressively, I have now come to
How Shall I Tell the Dog Miles Kington Profile Books Ltd, 2008, pp 224 £9·99 (US$ 15·87, €12·36) ISBN 13 9781846681974
1133
There are all kinds of problems with Living Proof: amateur performances, a misfiring script, and an unwavering sentimentality. The film concludes with Slamon running around a track. Trastuzumab has been approved. The stadium slowly fills with the film’s female characters—dead and alive— and they start cheering him on. At which point, to distract myself from the on-screen events, I started wondering about Living Proof’s attitude to women. Here’s a film about a man who holds the power of life and death over virtually all the women around him, none of whom can hold a candle to him intellectually. His neglected wife—played with dutiful emotion by Paula Cale—contentedly accepts that her desires are nothing compared with her husband’s. None of
Skip Bolen, Lifetime Networks, 2008
Cancer and Society
Dr Slamon thanks his patients for participating in the phase I trial
which need trouble feminist theorists too much, since I suspect Living Proof will soon be dead forgotten.
Talha Burki [email protected]
Transcending depression and fear, displaying courage in the face of adversity, and experiencing feelings of hope and renewal—these were some of the many inspiring themes explored in more than 300 works of art on display at an awards ceremony, held October 22, 2008, in New York, NY, USA, for the 3rd biennial art competition, Lilly Oncology on Canvas: Expressions of a Cancer Journey. The competition, presented by Eli Lilly and Company, in partnership with the USA’s National Coalition for Cancer Survivorship, invites patients with cancer, their families, friends, caregivers, and health-care providers to express their feelings about contending with the disease through art and accompanying narration. “Like everyone else, I long for the day when we don’t need an Oncology on Canvas”, says Richard Gaynor, one of the event’s award presenters and vice president of cancer research and the global oncology platform leader for Eli Lilly. When the company first established the competition in
2004, it wanted to fill a void in patient care, he explains, adding that medicine can only go so far in meeting all of the needs of individuals touched by cancer. “Survivorship—living with cancer from the moment of diagnosis—has its challenges”, says Gaynor, adding that it can take an emotional toll on patients and those who care about them. Although art is not a panacea, expressing feelings through a creative process complements medicine and can help people heal, he says. “The painting process is meditative, therapeutic, and healing all at the same time”, says Nikko Shabtai, of Beverly Hills, CA, USA, first prizewinner in Best of Exhibition for his acrylic painting, “As I Am, Beautiful and Whole”. His piece is of a nude woman with high cheekbones and long dark hair, who gazes serenely off the canvas. Despite missing her right breast, she seems at peace (figure 1). The creation of this image was a subconscious process, says Shabtai. During a live-model workshop, he picked up his knife instead of a brush
www.thelancet.com/oncology Vol 9 December 2008
Courtesy of Eli Lilly and Company
Art Expression through art helps patients with cancer cope
Figure 1: “As I Am, Beautiful and Whole” Winner of the 2008 Lilly Oncology on Canvas competition.
1131
Cancer and Society
and painted his subject without a breast, he explains. He later realised that his inspiration was the breast cancer diagnosis and mastectomy of a family member, as well as the illnesses that several of his friends were contending with. A fellow painter in his workshop commented that the woman in the painting was beautiful and whole and did not need her breast. Shabtai realised that he, too, thought the woman was complete. Elizabeth Menges, of Boston, MA, USA, received second place in Best of Exhibition for “C. in the Bedroom”, a series of six small oil paintings depicting the intimate daily dressing routine of a breast cancer survivor who has undergone a mastectomy
For more on the 2008 Lilly Oncology on Canvas competition see http://www. lillyoncologyoncanvas.com For more on the 2006 Lilly Oncology on Canvas competition see Lancet Oncol 2006; 7: 980–81
of colour reflects a wide range of emotions from depression and withdrawal to empowerment and the ability to plan for the future, despite her diagnosis. The other third place winner, “Traces,” is a haunting light blue and black photomontage created by Nash Hyon, of Wilton, CT, USA (figure 4). The self-portrait, produced in her late husband’s photography studio, features Hyon standing in front of the glow of a chest radiograph with her face turned away from the viewer. The work captures her feelings of loss surrounding the death of her husband from lung cancer, and explores themes of moving forward with memories of his love and support.
Courtesy of Eli Lilly and Company
For more on how art can help people heal see Lancet Oncol 2008; 9: 20–22.
(figure 2). The work captures the woman’s vulnerability as she looks at her reflection in a full-length mirror, adjusts her bra, or sits quietly on the edge of her bed. In the work’s accompanying narration, the artist states that she hopes the piece demystifies a situation that people generally avoid exploring, due to fear, and broadens the range of how a real woman looks. “Moons In The Wind”, a mixed media work produced by Barbara Litek of New York, NY, USA, expresses her journey after being diagnosed with chronic lymphocytic leukaemia and was awarded one of two thirdplace prizes given this year (figure 3). The abstract piece of bold swathes
Figure 2: “C. in the Bedroom” Second prizewinner in the Best of Competition category.
1132
www.thelancet.com/oncology Vol 9 December 2008
Figure 3: “Moons In The Wind” One of two third prizewinners in the Best of Competition category.
Overall, more than 600 artworks from throughout the USA and Puerto Rico were entered into this year’s event. The pieces, which included watercolours, oils, pastels, acrylics, photographs, and mixed media, represented about a 20% increase in the number of entries compared with 2006. The deadline for submissions this year was in July, and
the artwork has since been on a tour of more than 130 US cities. An independent panel of judges, comprised of an art director, cancer survivors, oncologists, journalists, and representatives from advocacy groups, selected this year’s winners. Lilly Oncology On Canvas awarded 26 prizes, totalling US$42 000 to 22 cancer charities selected by the 19 winners in various categories. The competition, which began in 2004, was initially international in scope, but was limited to the USA and Puerto Rico for the last two competitions due to the programme’s rapid growth. The company will likely announce the 2010 competition in the autumn of 2009. Although the need for another such competition is a sombering thought, seeing patients and the people who care about them explore the wide range of emotions that come with a cancer diagnosis is ultimately a lifeaffirming experience.
Heather Lindsey [email protected]
Courtesy of Eli Lilly and Company
Courtesy of Eli Lilly and Company
Cancer and Society
Figure 4: “Traces” The other third prizewinner in the Best of Competition category.
Book How Shall I Tell the Dog? “When you’ve got cancer, you notice one or two little odd things which other people don’t, one of which is the sudden proliferation round the house of skewers and knitting needles and cork-screws, sometimes covered in blood, sometimes not….because you’ve been trying to pierce new holes in your old belts.” So observes the late humorist Miles Kington in his final book, How Shall I tell the Dog’, an object lesson in how to die with style and humour, and “how to make cancer work for its living”. I should declare an interest here. Miles was both a friend and an inspiration. He launched my comedy career in 1990 (with a very favourable preview), showed me how to play
petanque (with a little alcohol on board) and taught me the secret of comedy. Most jokes have a punchline you can see coming for miles, but the best jokes take you somewhere completely unexpected. Hence the belt holes. As Miles put it: “Knowledge is knowing that a tomato is a fruit, wisdom is knowing not to put one in a fruit salad”. Miles was one of our most prolific humorists, writing a daily column for 30 years, first for The Times, and then for The Independent. Before that, he was on the staff of Punch, where he started the popular “Let’s Parler Franglais” column “which furnished four Penguin paperbacks and many middle class loos”. His own loo was
www.thelancet.com/oncology Vol 9 December 2008
stuffed with books, as was the rest of his idyllic house near Bath, England. He would write a column, share it with his wife Caroline, bake some bread, argue about the shape of the loaf, cycle to Bradford on Avon, buy some rare jazz records, stop and chat, think about tomorrow’s column, and amble home. Then he started losing weight. “In my trim days, my waist was a good, elegant 32”, but when I started to enjoy food more and take less exercise, it gradually crept up to 36”, nudging 37”….Now I’m down to 32” again. However, it’s not a slim elegant 32” any more. It is a scrawny, puckered-navel kind of thinness which means that having tightened my belts progressively, I have now come to
How Shall I Tell the Dog Miles Kington Profile Books Ltd, 2008, pp 224 £9·99 (US$ 15·87, €12·36) ISBN 13 9781846681974
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