Healing Through Harmony & Brushstrokes
Throughout my father's journey with Alzheimer's, one remarkable constant remained: his uncanny ability to remember lyrics from decades past. Even as other memories faded, a familiar melody drifting from the television or radio would transform him—his eyes would light up, his posture would straighten, and suddenly he was belting out every word, perfectly, as if the disease momentarily released its grip.
In his research at Columbia University, renowned neurologist Dr. Oliver Sacks observed a remarkable phenomenon: even as Alzheimer's and other dementia-related diseases erased memories and abilities, music remained a universal key. "Every patient," he noted in his findings, " without a single exception, showed meaningful response to melody and rhythm.”
According to Dr. Sacks, music serves as a key unlocking what he describes as "fossil memories"—personal recollections preserved intact as the surrounding mental landscape deteriorates. These preserved moments, otherwise inaccessible, resurface when triggered by familiar melodies from the patient's past.
The parietal lobe— a region nestled within our neural architecture—activates uniquely when engaged with artistic expression and musical stimuli. When dementia patients encounter visual art, something remarkable often occurs: neural pathways seemingly dormant find alternative routes to expression. A painting of sailboats might evoke memories of childhood summers rather than accurate descriptions of the canvas itself, yet these moments of connection—however imperfect—create bridges across the cognitive divides the disease has carved.
New York's Museum of Modern Art pioneered an innovative program for dementia patients, offering monthly access to carefully curated mini-exhibitions. Each session features a focused selection—perhaps Remington's dynamic western art one month, Rothko's color fields the next—deliberately limited to prevent sensory overload. Curators guide these special visitors through the experience with open-ended prompts: "How do these colors make you feel?" or "What story might this image tell?" Documentation from these sessions reveals participants offering insights of remarkable perception and poignancy, challenging conventional assumptions about cognitive decline. I believe this type of therapy is healthy for those living with dementia to attend. Unless the trip becomes too unsettling for them. Anything that promotes conversation or energizes the mind, helping to give a richer quality of life, is extremely encouraging.
Art was Dad's lifelong passion. He'd earned his appraiser's certification and nothing delighted him more than guiding visitors through his collection, gesturing with those expressive hands of his while recounting each piece's provenance. Midway through his Alzheimer' s journey, I overheard a woman inquire about a particular landscape in his study. Dad's eyes lit up as he correctly identified the French countryside and even pinpointed the 1890s timeframe. Then came that telltale hesitation. "This," he declared with absolute confidence, "is by Barnes and Noble." Catching the visitor's confused glance, I offered a subtle nod that silently pleaded: let him have this moment. The details might have blurred, but his joy in sharing remained perfectly intact.
– Gary Joseph LeBlanc, Director of Education
