Artist Looks At Mental Health From The Inside

Rebelled is a direct yet complex image. Death looms over it, a sense of pain, from the position of the skull to the splayed black watercolor spilling out from the jawline. But the flowers growing out of the eyes and mouth aren’t just a sign of the skull’s inner decay. They suggest new life, too, rejuvenation. Those opposites come together as uneasy partners, the same sort of way the title of the piece isn’t, but sounds a lot like, the word rebuild.

The piece is part of ​“Madness in the Morning,” running through the month of May at the restaurant Blue Orchid New Haven on Court Street. Through her art, Amanda Rodriguez aims to give viewers ​“a personal glimpse into the harsh world of someone who struggles with their mental health,” she writes. 

She studied at Paier College, an art school in Bridgeport, and during that time and since, ​“her work has transformed from watercolor doodles in sketchbooks to fully formed and custom framed pieces as a way of processing stressful times in her life. In sharing this vulnerable aspect, she hopes to not only help break the stigma that comes with mental illness, but to also open up the floor to discuss how one’s mental health can affect daily life if not treated.” The exhibition at Blue Orchid, said Mike Flora, co-owner of Blue Orchid, is intended to mark May as Mental Health Awareness Month.

It makes a difference that Rodriguez uses her art to approach questions about mental health from the inside. The emotions in her work are big, intense, and raw, but also not entirely negative. There’s room for a lot of understanding, a lot of compassion, and even a little humor. 

The lightness comes in part from a style informed somewhat by comics. With her ability to execute strong lines, bold figures, and angular poses, Rodriguez could make a gorgeous graphic novel. Deployed for standalone pieces, the style even suggests a narrative. 

Word Vomit — the combination of funny and grotesque in this case starts with the title — could be one panel in a strip, but it also tells all the story it needs. The image succeeds in being literal and figurative for both words in the title, as the substance pouring out of the subject’s mouth is liquid and letters. It’s absurd. It’s shocking. And it says a lot about how it can feel to lose control of the things you say, to find yourself speaking when you wish you weren’t.

Levitate plays with the same kind of ambiguity. The figure floats in a red sky, but Rodriguez doesn’t partake of the usual emotions associated with taking flight — freedom, joy, power. Instead, the figure’s pose is inert, the face covered in hair. Is she levitating by choice? Is she enjoying it? It’s possible that she has escaped a tough situation and is now floating, recovering, exhausted but catching a breath. It’s also possible that the flight itself is the tough situation, one that she’s trapped in, and just waiting to end. It’s possible, finally, that the difference between those scenarios isn’t terribly important; what matters is simply that state of disconnection, otherworldliness, a hazy stasis apart from everything else.

As illustrations of certain mental states, they will likely strike a chord with many, opening avenues for connection and understanding. That, in the end, is part of the point. Rodriguez has posted a sign in the exhibition. ​“I hope to share this space of vulnerability with everyone who has or is currently going through a tough time with their mental health. Please remember that you are not alone,” she writes. Near the sign is a small cache of Post-It Notes and pens. ​“Take your stickie and place it anywhere on the wall around the art. Sign it or leave it anonymous but make it yours. You can even do one or multiple as long as we keep it hopeful,” she writes. ​“Thank you for being a part of this journey and for being here.” 

Several visitors so far have taken Rodriguez up on the offer to participate. They are full of advice and encouragement (“be yourself”; ​“surround yourself with people who are genuine and promote self-growth”) as well as a few simple things that bring someone hope (softball; cats; kids with dogs). They’re reminders that dealing with mental health is an everyday occurrence, and while our popular conception of it is about big breakthroughs and dramatic steps forward, perhaps more often it’s just about finding smaller hopes in the hour you’re in.

Madness in the Morning runs at Blue Orchid New Haven, 130 Court St., through the end of the month. For hours and more information, visit Blue Orchid’s website.