By Quincy Walters

                Each and every year, an estimated 12.7 million people are diagnosed with cancer (CDC). How those 12.7 million deal with their predicament varies. However, few have dealt with it quite like Megan Hildebrandt.

                The year was 2009, and Hildebrandt was just beginning her Masters of Fine Arts degree at the University of South Florida, after moving from her native Detroit, Michigan. What is usually a time of personal discovery, and self-improvement was shaken by a more sinister discovery.

                “She was about a month into the program and she discovered a lump had formed on her neck,” recalls Peter Foe, Curator of the Collection at USF’s Contemporary Art Museum. “She went to her doctor, who I think was somewhat dismissive of the concerns initially, and it [the lump] did not go away.”

                The lump was Hodgkin’s Lymphoma—a blood cancer in which the disease attacks the lymph nodes, one of the most integral parts of the immune system.    

                “When I was first diagnosed with Hodgkin’s Lymphoma, I didn’t have a sense of what was really happening.  I think that happens to a lot of cancer patients- a delay in processing,” writes Hildebrandt in an e-mail. “My first reaction was to ask, ‘[W]hat do we do to take care of this?’ – trying to just mentally prepare myself for 7 months of chemo[therapy], which is impossible to do.  Only after chemo[therapy] was over did it really start to hit me what had happened.  That is when I began making art about my cancer experience, after my treatment was over.  I think when something [like] cancer happens to you; you can’t help but let it infiltrate your creative process somehow.”

                The result was Counting Radiation—a collection of works, composed of acrylic, graphite and ink on large sheets of paper that measure up to 81 inches in length and 50 inches in diameter, that captured the essence of her ordeal with cancer. Each piece is riddled with hundreds—if not, thousands—of tally marks. Initially, the tallies represented the amount of radiation Megan received.

                “The tally marks came about after my doctor told me the CT scans I had been getting over a period of two years during my treatment had exposed me to 1 lifetimes’ worth of radiation for each scan- I had gotten 16 or 17 at that point, so this was alarming news to hear. I began trying to count this giant number via tallies.” This is where the collection’s title comes from.

The tally marks, however, evolved to represent something more; a commodity that surmounts the vitality of chemotherapy and radiation—time. “After a while of making the drawings, the tally marks began to represent time’s passage more than radiation,” Megan writes. “…time since diagnosis, time since chemotherapy ending, time since remission.”

                Despite the evolution of the meaning of the tallies, one characteristic remained—the visible landscapes of each piece. Each landscape takes the viewer along, through the rough journey of cancer, with the artist.  

                Hildebrandt’s experience with cancer and how she handled it provided an opportunity—one that could both inspire and teach. Peter Foe recognized this opportunity. “We approached Moffitt, and talked with Megan Hildebrandt to see if she was interested,” recounted Foe. “We talked a little bit about what might be a program associated with this work, with an educational component that might allow for us to do both an exhibition and some outreach component that would have some kind of educational value…”

                The result was an exhibition and symposium, held on March 28^th, of Counting Radiation.  In the symposium, Hildebrandt discussed her art, in depth, about how the tallies and what they represented evolved. The exhibition began on March 5^th and will be available for viewing until September 15, in Moffitt’s Vincent A. Stable Research Building Atrium on the USF campus. There, viewers will have the ability to see the intricate detail and emotion present in the pieces. Undoubtedly, they will navigate the intricate landscapes, and follow Hildebrandt’s journey through cancer and to recovery.

                An integral person in making the symposium and exhibition possible was Megan Voeller. She describes her job as pursuing “collaborations and relationships with USF Health—which is a specific division of five colleges of healthcare at USF.” Voeller has known Hildebrandt prior to the diagnosis.

                “Megan [Hildebrandt] and I met the same day we were starting our master’s program, because I was doing an MA in Art History, so I got to see her thesis work evolving,” recalls Voeller. “And at various points, we had conversations about what it might be like to make artwork about illness, but that was just an informal conversation over the span of a couple of years.”

                Voeller recalls Hildebrandt’s initial artistic reaction to her illness. “In the early phase, Hildebrandt made a graphic novel about having cancer and then, she moved into this later abstract work.”

                “It just seems serendipitous, in the sense that I now have this thematic job and Megan was making this work that was so relevant to the work that Peter was already doing with Moffitt. All of this sort of gelled in a way that it made sense to collaborate”.

                It is often believed that art, during an illness, has the ability to provide comfort—perhaps, healing—to those afflicted by it. Either by creating it or witnessing it, there seems to be a positive linear correlation between the relationship of art and healing.

                For Hildebrandt, art improved her physical and psychological well-being. “[Art] gave me a purpose and identity beyond just being a patient,” she writes. “Anything that helps to maintain or regain a sense of normalcy during a traumatic experience is invaluable, and for me that was art making.”

                With her success still strong in the present, Hildebrandt looks eagerly to the future for continued artistic and personal discovery.

                “I am currently working on a new series that also involves repetition. It is [on a] slightly smaller scale than the Counting Radiation series, using paint and collage. It also explores time’s passage.”

Not only does Hildebrandt create solo works, she is also a member of EyeSplice Collective.  According to the Collective’s website, EyeSplice “is a group of international emerging artists” who put on exhibitions, screenings, performances and artist talks in institutions around the world. They will have their first exhibition this fall and summer in New York.

 Hildebrandt is also looking forward to completing her family. In June, she and her husband are expecting their first baby.    

Hildebrandt has been in remission since 2011, but she cannot say for certain that she is cancer-free. “You aren’t able to say you are ‘cured’ until you have been in remission for 5 years,” she says. “I still have 3 more years or so to go.”

When asked what she hopes to achieve with her work, she replies:

“I want people to look at my art, and for them to have some kind of connection to it— for it to make them pause.”

To see more of Counting Radiation, and other works by Megan Hildebrandt, visit meganhildebrandt.blogspot.com