Holding the Space

Every year I teach students about object relations and attachment theory in the graduate level Theories of Counseling and Art Therapy course. I frequently use the metaphor of the nest to discuss the concepts in a creative way inspired by a class I took with Janis Timm-Bottos during my doctoral program. Before I start the lecture, those of us in the class that know how to crochet teach the rest of the students that do not. We sew the nests using an extra-large crochet hook and yarn made from repurposed T-shirts. First, we make the yarn from the knit fabric, cutting away the unusable parts and winding it into a ball. Then, the students place the yarn on the hook and make a few stitches. After they are able to work on their own for a bit, they carefully crochet while I teach.

The materials and art making parallel the lecture. I present information about secure and insecure attachments, what those may look like through one’s behaviors and possible reasons for why someone might display a certain type of attachment. We talk about how the brain has neuroplasticity and that insecure attachments can be repaired (Green & Bavelier, 2008; Heller, 2019). Relationships and experiences, like worn T-shirts, can be repurposed through intention. The developmental markers of secure attachment as a caregiver – making a connection, attuning, developing trust, expanding available resources, and being present – develops from the stitching practice of over and under looping that helps regulate the nervous system. Once everyone in the class successfully crochets the beginnings of a nest, we celebrate our new neural pathways forged by learning a new skill and acknowledge our sense of feeling grounded. Through this experiential learning, the studio is reinforced as a safe place.

The class also discusses the concept of the holding environment within attachment and explores ideas related to the art therapy relationship. Secure attachment processes take place in a protected space with a caregiver; who might be a therapist. Some art therapists refer to the symbolism of the nest as it relates to the environment and context for growth, change, and transformation (Kaiser & Deaver, 2009; Sheller, 2007; Yoon et al., 2020). Art therapists, then, are also keepers of the nest. Within art therapy sessions, the job of the therapist is to hold the space for clients to deepen relationships, contain challenging emotions, connect to roots, and explore identity.

Similarly, within this issue of the journal, each of the authors’ contributions reinforce these ideas. As strands woven together, each piece provides the reader with an opportunity to explore, learn, and return. The articles presented are written with representation from researchers and practitioners nationally and internationally, casting art therapy and the nest that all art therapists interlace globally.

Holding the space for a strong connection with clients, Bani Malhotra develops empathy and collaboration with mentor David Gussak for those in treatment for sexual offenses using the metaphor of the journey. Introspection during Malhotra’s reflexive practice led to an avenue for linking of one’s own vulnerabilities to those of the clients. Through reflection Malhotra deepened the care and concern in relationship with her clients and ultimately helped them find meaning and take further responsibility for their actions and future. Also considering the therapeutic alliance, Lali Keidar, Sharon Snir, Dafna Regev, Hod Orkibi, Michal Adoni-Kroyanker present an exploratory study that imparts the importance of the client-therapist bond. The client-therapist bond is shown to affect outcomes of art therapy with children in a school setting.

Providing containment for who are preparing for birth, Ceara Rossetti explores the application of the open studio, or non-directive, approach within an antepartum hospital group setting through a case study. Women who are admitted for crisis during pregnancy gain support from one another and process their experiences of boredom, isolation, lack of control, and family through art making in the open studio group. Considering grief, research by Darlene Green, Kacie Karafa, and Stephanie Wilson supports the use of art therapy with people who have experienced loss. Though not a surprise to art therapists who work in grief, their research findings indicate that art therapy aids in exploring the positive and negative emotions associated with loss.

Maintaining art therapy history, Jordan Potash writes about the legacy of Christine Wang, pioneer art therapist and the first Chinese art therapist. Wang’s contribution to the field of art therapy includes her early work with the transgender population, and her notion of the creative process and the use of the graphic image. With Wang’s recent passing in March 2021, this article attends to the overlooked history that has plagued art therapy in the U.S. Similarly, Rif S. El-Mallakh provides missing art therapy history in the U.K. with the inclusion of Dr. William A. F. Browne who began using art to support healing with his patients in Britain in the 1840s. His patient centered approaches at that time were revolutionary.

Discovering new and untethered selves, Mavis Osei offers her art and experiences as she navigated her evolving identity as an art therapist. She explores her experiences as an international art therapy student externalizing and contemplating her confusion and tension. The reader then accompanies Osei back to Ghana where her sense of self as an art therapist shifts. In sharing her narrative, Osei provides an often unrepresented perspective – that of an international student who trains in the United States but traverses cultural and contextual challenges to navigate relevant art therapy practice in one’s home country.

Finally, the cover art and inspiration for the editorial for this issue depicts a nest resting in the branches of a winter tree. To the artist, Sheryl Stern, the nest is a place to return again and again. Much the same, all of the articles demonstrate uses of art therapy to grow, transform, heal, repair harm, learn, recover, grieve, and explore. Therefore, this issue is itself an intentional holding place for research, knowledge, and experiences for readers to return to again and again.