SPACE 22: Premieres Tuesday, 8pm (AEST), ABC TV and ABC iview
ABC TV's six-part series Space 22 quickly became a refuge for the seven volunteer strangers who met there to see if art and music could positively impact their mental health, as measured by the Black Dog Institute and analysed by Professor Kathryn Boydell.
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Popular recording artist Natalie Bassingthwaighte, who bravely admits to her own mental health battle, is the host for this powerful program.
"I was approached by my manager, who said the ABC wanted to know if I was interested in being involved. I said yes straight away," she says.
"I never wear my heart on my sleeve, but I knew in my heart and soul I had to do this.
"I'm 47 this year, and working through my mental health problems has been a process for me for a very long time."
Bassingthwaighte says early on, she didn't really want to talk about her circumstances because of the stigma.
"I thought I wouldn't be employed by people. But the older I got, the more I realised I had to deal with it.
"I went back to the Black Dog Institute 20 years ago," Bassingthwaighte says.
"I was told I needed to go on medication. No one really understands unless they have been through it. I had brought my friends in with me, so they could explain to them a little of what I was going through."
The diverse individuals who take part in Space 22, to see if creative exercises can help heal invisible wounds, are visibly changed by it.
Australian artists Abdul Abdulla, Wendy Sharpe and Eddie Perfect share their skills and inspire the volunteers, while psychotherapist Noula Diamantopoulos supports the group, talking them through fears and encouraging them to give it a go.
"It was really at times overwhelming. I'd been there when everyone arrived and watched as they looked at their own images. You could see they were dead behind the eyes," Bassingthwaighte says.
"Every day we tried something new and you could see them changing, even in the way they walked.
"I came home from the first day and said to my husband: 'I've found my purpose'. It's the show we need right now."
Volunteer Ray, although willing to try things, didn't really put much stead in how it could help him.
"Ray was just amazing. When he first came in he didn't want to hug with me, unlike everyone else. By the last day I was asking him 'Ray, who are you?'. He said he didn't remember the last time he had been laughing and smiling before this, and was now very willing to hug."
A young female, who thought the experiment was "a little bit wanky", was at least open to being real within it, while gay Muslim Muhammed wanted to believe it would help.
"I felt for Muhammed," Bassingthwaighte says. "Most had had a rough trot, but he's had a particularly rough time. Even his mother tried to "fix" him."
During the series, some of the tasks undertaken by the group would trigger emotional reactions.
"I think because its a fly on the wall documentary, you have to allow for the real stuff to happen. It was important to showcase that [happens] in real life.
"I think it's brilliant being able to speak to someone when they are having a moment, but unfortunately there is not enough money, and not enough doctors.
"One of the things we were talking about early on, was to give people the tools to try creative therapies themselves and to know where to go depending on what's happening to them.
"Triggers that happen in your life, on a cellular level, get stuck in your body. Now we know we can do things about it we never thought we could.
"It wasn't like this is going to fix you, it's about helping you moving forward.
Bassingthwaighte says "it's the best thing I've ever done".
Make sure you have your tissues handy.