State Mental Hospitals

The 1970s constitute the decade of decisions about state mental hospi tals! These large, monolithic, and seemingly impervious institutions are being phased out in some states and their basic purpose for exis tence is being seriously questioned in almost all others. Since 1970, hospitals have closed in California, Illinois, Kentucky, Massachusetts, Minnesota, New York, Oklahoma, Washington, and Wisconsin. Simi lar closings have occurred in several provinces of Canada, in Great Britain, and in some European countries. The purpose of the book is to examine the multiple issues growing out of the hospital closings: Why are the state hospitals being closed? What is the impact of closings on patients, hospital staff, and the communities where the hospitals are located? What has been the impact on the communities receiving these patients? What are the trends for the future, in terms of numbers of closings and types of hospitals which will remain? Is there a role for the state hospital in the care of the mentally ill or is it an obsolete institution? The impetus for the closings is diverse. The discovery and wide spread use of the tranquilizing drugs in the early 1950s allowed more patients to be returned to the community-under medication.

Powerful photographs of the grand exteriors and crumbling interiors of America's abandoned state mental hospitals. For more than half the nation's history, vast mental hospitals were a prominent feature of the American landscape. From the mid-nineteenth century to the early twentieth, over 250 institutions for the insane were built throughout the United States; by 1948, they housed more than a half million patients. The blueprint for these hospitals was set by Pennsylvania hospital superintendant Thomas Story Kirkbride: a central administration building flanked symmetrically by pavilions and surrounded by lavish grounds with pastoral vistas. Kirkbride and others believed that well-designed buildings and grounds, a peaceful environment, a regimen of fresh air, and places for work, exercise, and cultural activities would heal mental illness. But in the second half of the twentieth century, after the introduction of psychotropic drugs and policy shifts toward community-based care, patient populations declined dramatically, leaving many of these beautiful, massive buildings—and the patients who lived in them—neglected and abandoned. Architect and photographer Christopher Payne spent six years documenting the decay of state mental hospitals like these, visiting seventy institutions in thirty states. Through his lens we see splendid, palatial exteriors (some designed by such prominent architects as H. H. Richardson and Samuel Sloan) and crumbling interiors—chairs stacked against walls with peeling paint in a grand hallway; brightly colored toothbrushes still hanging on a rack; stacks of suitcases, never packed for the trip home. Accompanying Payne's striking and powerful photographs is an essay by Oliver Sacks (who described his own experience working at a state mental hospital in his book Awakenings). Sacks pays tribute to Payne's photographs and to the lives once lived in these places, “where one could be both mad and safe.”