The fact that it took a centennial birthday and a century-old bequest that almost vanished to provide performing artists with a useful mental health program is subtly startling. The Marilyn Monroe Mental Health for the Arts Program was introduced by Mount Sinai in late April. It is housed within the Samuel J. Friedman Health Center for the Performing Arts, which is located a few blocks from some of Broadway’s most iconic theaters. It doesn’t seem like a press conference. It seems like it’s long overdue.
Discussing mental health has never been simple in the performing arts industry. It has an unspoken but ubiquitous culture that views suffering as a necessary component of the craft. Depression in between contracts, anxiety prior to auditions, and the grinding uncertainty of a career with no guarantees. While the audience only sees the polished final act, singers, dancers, stagehands, and musicians are all under tremendous psychological strain. The program’s own materials acknowledge the never-ending cycle, which goes from audition to rehearsal to performance and back again, seldom stopping long enough for someone to inquire about how they’re doing.
Marilyn Monroe had a deep understanding of that cycle. Less talked about is the fact that she made an effort to address it, which is what gives this program a genuinely thoughtful rather than symbolic feel. She donated a portion of her estate to support mental health initiatives. Lori Hall, the cultural advocate who provided a $100,000 gift to launch the program, has described her role as completing the circle on Monroe’s original intention, despite the bequest’s gradual decline over decades due to time and legal complications. That framing has an unexpectedly poignant quality. In 2026, a 1962 wish comes true.
Mount Sinai’s Division of Psychology is led by psychologist Shilpa R. Taufique, PhD, who oversees the program. Nicholas Kopple-Perry, a psychiatrist who specializes in treating performing artists, offers on-site mental health services. It may not seem like much, but that specificity is important. Patients are not like artists. They have complex relationships with vulnerability, emotional exposure, and public identity that are not always taken into account by general mental health frameworks. The quality of care is altered when a clinician truly knows what it’s like to audition for a job—the unique pain of rejection, the disruption of inconsistent income.
How many artists will utilize the program in its early months and whether the funding will increase beyond that initial seed are still unknowns. These kinds of programs frequently start out with real momentum before subtly plateauing. However, the infrastructure seems to be taken seriously. In 2024, the Friedman Health Center was awarded a Tony Honor for its contributions to the entertainment industry. It is supported by the larger psychiatric network at Mount Sinai. Furthermore, the cultural moment—Mental Health Awareness Month, Monroe’s centennial, a post-pandemic reckoning with burnout in all creative industries—is significant.
As this develops, it’s difficult to ignore how much the discourse surrounding creative professionals has changed in recent years. Sports psychologists work with athletes. Executive coaches work with executives. Historically, artists have had very little other than each other. Although this program won’t immediately address the imbalance, it is a credible step because it was created in the right location, in the right city, and under the right name.
