Theatre that feels: A journey into Art Therapy

The first time I heard the term art therapy, I thought it sounded like one of those hipster buzzwords: stylish, a little vague, probably trending on a tote bag. Not too long ago, someone close to me began studying it in Madrid. Through her, I started hearing stories — not just about creativity and expression, but about deep psychological shifts, even in complex neurological conditions like autism. Still, I wasn’t entirely sure what art therapy looked like in practice.

That changed in a dark theatre in Madrid, where I watched a play created by a diverse and deeply focused group of students from the Universidad Complutense de Madrid. The play, titled “___etc”, is part of a cross-cultural project that began with its first season in Brazil and continued with a second in Madrid. Each version evolves from the lived experiences of its cast, making every performance unique, raw, and rooted in real emotion. Jesica Dounce is one of those rare people with a heart as big as the sun — the kind that makes you feel warm even on the coldest nights. Watching her on stage wasn’t just emotional; it was transformative. You could sense that it was theatre that wasn’t being performed — it was being lived. The script was co-written using personal experiences from the entire group, then co-edited by Professor Felipe Salarolli and Assistant Professor Chaxiraxi Sosa. One of the core principles of the play was that you couldn’t tell whether the person acting a part was also the person behind the story. That intentional ambiguity made everything more powerful.

The stories were so human, so seemingly ordinary, yet carried a complexity that held the audience in quiet awe. It was raw. It was beautiful. And it stirred something deep. This wasn’t theatre to be admired from a distance. It was theatre to be felt. I now understand why it’s such a powerful emotional outlet for those on stage.

I also want to highlight the assertiveness of the production itself — the lighting design, the total darkness of the auditorium, the complete ban on phone use — everything helped shape an atmosphere that felt intimate and respectful. It wasn’t just a performance. It was a quiet emotional climax, carefully built and deeply shared.

Dounce Art Clinic isn’t your typical therapy space — it’s where creativity quietly does the heavy lifting.Founded by Jesica Dounce after completing her Master’s in Art Therapy at the Universidad Complutense de Madrid, it offers a space where drawing, painting, or simply making becomes a way to process what’s hard to put into words. Whether one-on-one or in groups, the atmosphere invites reflection without pressure — just presence, honesty, and a bit of color.

To understand the soul behind this kind of creative care, we sat down with Jesica Dounce for a conversation about healing, art, and her Hot Take on it all.

1. What first pulled you toward art therapy, and how did that interest evolve into the work you do today?

About seven years ago, during a conversation with a friend, I heard the term art therapy for the first time. She was studying it and explained that it wasn’t just about aesthetics — it was about using creativity as a tool to explore emotions, heal trauma, and reconnect with yourself when words aren’t enough.

Something clicked. I remember thinking, “This is it. This is the mark I want to leave on the world.”

That spark lit a path: academic studies, clinical practice, and eventually Dounce Art Clinic — a space where creativity gently opens the door to emotional and psychological well-being. It’s where art isn’t just expressive — it’s transformative.

2. Can you recall a moment when you witnessed art truly becoming a tool for healing?

There are many. But one moment still stays with me. I worked with an adult stroke survivor who barely spoke at first. He felt invisible — like someone who used to be admired and suddenly wasn’t seen anymore. In our sessions, he didn’t need to explain anything. He could just create. And that changed everything. Gradually, he began to open up. First about pain, then about dreams, frustrations, hope. He asked for music, danced while painting, and his speech became more fluid — not just in words, but in spirit. He wasn’t speaking at the world anymore. He was speaking with it. That’s the kind of healing you don’t always see on paper. But you feel it. Deeply.

3. Dounce Art Clinic also works with companies – how does art therapy translate into a corporate setting without losing its soul?

It’s easy to assume art therapy belongs only in clinical or creative spaces. But in my experience, it can be just as powerful in a corporate environment. People bring their whole selves to work — stress, grief, burnout — yet rarely have space to process any of it.

Art therapy in companies isn’t about making art. It’s about making space. We create settings where people can reflect, express what’s usually unspoken, and reconnect with their sense of purpose — individually and as a team. There’s no pressure to perform, only to be present. In these sessions, creativity becomes a quiet connector. It restores empathy, clarity, and presence — not just for others, but for ourselves.

And that’s where real culture change begins: not with slogans, but with human connection.

4. What would you say to someone who thinks they’re “not creative enough” for art therapy?

I hear that often — and it always touches something deep. Because behind that phrase is usually a long story: of comparison, shame, or being told you weren’t “good at art.” But art therapy isn’t about being good. It’s about being real. It’s not about technique or talent — it’s about giving yourself permission to explore, to feel, to make meaning beyond words. I’ve seen people create with shaking hands and say more than a polished essay ever could.

Creativity isn’t a talent. It’s a remembering. A remembering of your voice, your rhythm, your truth.

And if the art looks messy, raw, or even “ugly”? That’s often where the deepest beauty lives. That’s where healing begins.

5. Your Hot Take on Art Therapy?

Art can be medicine — real, emotional, embodied medicine — when it’s met with the right space and support.

It’s not just a soft extra. I’ve seen it unlock movement in kids with cerebral palsy, spark connection in autistic teens, and give shape to grief too heavy for words.

In places like the UK, Canada, and Australia, doctors are already prescribing art. It’s time we stop calling it “alternative” — and start calling it what it is: healing.