emerges from the darkness of depression By Patricia Calnan For every artist, a solo exhibition is a special event.

For Diana Tetlow, whose show opens at the Bermuda Society of Arts' Harbour Gallery this week, however, it is rather more than that. It is, she says, "a celebration''. The clue to what has turned out to be a very personal celebration may be found in the name chosen for her show, "Back Home''.

On one level, it emphasises the contrast between her last exhibition, "Elototo'', for the Heritage House gallery in 1992, which was a tribute to and a record of the rich culture of Africa's Maasai people.

"This show is quite a contrast,'' she says. "Last time, I went to Africa to find out what I wanted to paint -- this time I was simply stepping out into my back garden and painting the flowers I found there.'' The ambiguity of the title lies in the fact that the journey between that garden and the easel in her studio has represented a very different kind of journey, one that proved far more challenging and difficult than the thousands of miles travelled in her African odyssey.

A portraitist whose work is regularly commissioned by clients as far apart as the US, Europe, Australia and South America, Ms Tetlow gained early recognition with her portrait of Sammy Davis, Jr., by his film director friend, Don Siegel. Her work has also been commissioned by the Annenburgs and the von Thyssens, two families renowned for their international art collections.

After studying in Britain, Paris and New York, Ms Tetlow also worked in cinema and the theatre.

Equally at home in portraiture, still-life and figurative painting, she works in pastels, oils and watercolours.

Yet this artist who enjoys international acclaim has emerged from a period of about a year during which she ceased painting altogether. Suffering from clinical depression, one of the first -- and classic -- symptoms of the disease manifested itself in an initially inexplicable loss of confidence.

Every trip to the studio within her house became a nightmare of fear and panic. Far from being a panacea, the act of painting itself became an agonising threat. As the illness progressed, she suffered loss of appetite and accompanying loss of weight, and insomnia.

"I would like to talk about depression because, although it's been around since the beginning of time, it's still a much misunderstood illness, and certainly no respecter of creed, colour or class,'' she explains.

"I hope that talking about my experiences might help someone who may be suffering the same symptoms that I had.'' Noting that depression has only been seriously researched within the last couple of decades, she emphasises the importance of early, and accurate diagnosis.

"The highest percentage of suicides are directly attributable to depression that is either undiagnosed or remains untreated. I grew up in an environment where any kind of mental illness had a stigma attached to it.'' Sadly, she believes, this attitude still prevails in some quarters. "The fact is that clinical and manic depression is now treatable.'' The breakthrough in successful treatment came with the scientific recognition that depression is a chemical disorder. During the 1950s, research revealed that two of the chemicals that form neurotransmitters in the brain were lacking in people suffering from acute forms of depression. Nowadays, medication (usually combined with cognitive therapy) can restore sufferers to a normal and rewarding life.

Ms Tetlow is not the first to point out the inadequacy of the terminology, "depression'', for a condition so appalling, that almost all words are inadequate in conveying the sense of utter despair that engulfs its victims.

As Pulitzer Prize-winning author William Styron writes in a moving memoir of his own illness, "Darkness Visible'', "melancholia'', a word that often pops up in Chaucer and comes from the Greek, meaning "black bile'', seems far more appropriate.

It is of interest -- though, she emphasises with a rueful laugh, no consolation -- to note that many people of genius throughout history have been so afflicted. These, and the list is seemingly endless, includes such luminaries as Abraham Lincoln, Van Gogh, Schumann, T.S. Eliot, Shelley, Keats, Byron, Tennyson, Ernest Hemingway, Virginia Woolf, Cole Porter, and Tennessee Williams, to name but a very few.

There seems to be a still not entirely understood connection between the disease and what is often referred to as "the artistic temperament''.

One of history's most famous figures who suffered from depression was Winston Churchill, who referred to his own bouts of debilitating depression as his "black dog'', an all too familiar companion.

"There was very little treatment at that time,'' remarks Ms Tetlow. "And he had to fight the illness almost all his life until the last few years.'' One of the ways he overcame it was by taking up, and becoming a highly successful painter. "I would hate to compare myself with Churchill,'' she laughs. "But it would seem that he was at his healthiest when he was facing the most enormous challenges. In my case, when I am healthy, I find painting challenging, but when I became ill, my confidence drained away until it was non-existent, to the extent that the challenge became a threat. The very last thing,'' she adds, "that anyone should ever say to a depressive is `buck up' or `cheer up' because they can't when they're in that state.'' The turnaround for her came in a newspaper article on depression. Forcing herself to read it, she remembers, "At last I had found someone who had suffered exactly the same symptoms as I had! Then I tried to read as many books as possible about depression and I came to realise that I was not a peculiarity, but someone with a definable illness that could be treated with medication. That's why I believe that those of us who have come through should be happy to talk about this disease, to offer hope for others who may not realise the nature of their despair, or who are too frightened to seek competent medical help.'' Permeating everything, she says, was a feeling of shame that she had been reduced to "such a miserable mess.'' But learning as much as she could about the medical facts concerning depression took that shame away and, she believes, set her back on the road to health.

Everyone, she points out, gets depressed at times, but this can in no way be compared with clinical or manic depression (the latter characterised by sustained, euphoric highs followed by devastating lows and usually inherited).

"I did meet one doctor who said there was no such thing as `clinical depression' -- all I needed to do, he said, was to go for a two-mile walk every day! But I have two amazing doctors who have helped me through, and I also have a wonderful group of friends who understood and supported me through my recuperation.'' Diana Tetlow says that one day, she suddenly realised that she missed painting -- a sure sign, for her, that she was well on the road to recovery.

"Painting is like playing the piano -- if you don't practise regularly, you lose hand and eye co-ordination and dexterity. So I knew I had to come back gradually. I al ready had some portrait commissions and I began on those, but I was anxious to choose painting something that I really love, and I do love flowers. So I began to paint them. The vast majority were all home grown -- by someone who's a very spasmodic gardener! I had been given some Bermuda roses and, amazingly, they seemed to thrive. So I started off with them. Old Bermuda roses are wonderful to paint -- quite unlike the cultivated, symmetrical modern roses. Much nicer! Then as the year went on, I painted my freesia patch, narcissus, and just about anything else that popped up.'' While working on the oil paintings of flowers, she also completed paintings of Lady Waddington, former Hamilton Mayor Cecil Dismont for City Hall, and Mr.

Keith McPhee, who retires shortly as headmaster of Saltus Grammar School.

"Luckily, none of the people I was painting seemed to mind being surrounded by all these flowers in various stages of decomposition. It was chaos -- but a cheerful kind of chaos!'' Now, she is re-experiencing the joys of painting, anxious to occasionally work alongside others ("painting can be a lonely business'') and plans to attend the life classes run by the Society of Arts.

"In the meantime,'' she says, "I've had a wonderful time preparing for this show and I hope people will enjoy it.'' "Back Home'', at the Harbour Gallery on Pitts Bay Road, will run from Saturday, June 3 to June 16.