Saturday, January 4th marked the closing of “Adverse Affects Include” at Popps Packing, with an artist talk by sculptor Brian Nelson about his large-scale welded bronze and steel works.

Several of Nelson’s sculptures, which had a striking aesthetic nature independent of their meaning.

The installation dealt with pharmaceuticals, specifically antidepressants. A number of the works, including “Paxil, Paroxetine (16 Years),” “Xanax, Trade name, Alprazolam (I will never find my way back),” and “Zoloft (Losing at a higher rate)” all depicted the chemical compositions of their eponymous medications, each of which the artist has personally been prescribed and taken for periods of his life.

“Paxil, Paroxetine (16 Years).”

Detail from “Gabapentin (The Death of N-1 How to disappear).”

Other works deal with the concepts of antidepressants and pharmaceuticals more abstractly, such as “The Voice of America, for Charlie, Jim and Joseph. (Aphasia),” which juxtaposes an augmented laughing gas canister, a piece of found neon (augmented from the original “Curves” fitness center sign to read “Cure”), and a 1976 Charlie McCarthy Juro ventriloquist doll.

“The Voice of America, for Charlie, Jim and Joseph. (Aphasia)”

We live in an era where mental illness is increasingly diagnosed and medicated, especially among people that were perhaps once considered to be merely eccentric, artistic, or even just regular energetic children. Conversely, things that were once considered mental illness, such as homosexuality, have been declassified as such, and happily it is no longer the fashion to administer treatments for mental outlooks of this nature. However, the changing fancies of the DSM (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, an industry standard and staple of every analyst’s training) might lead us to question the ultimate nature of a diagnosis. Certainly, pieces like Nelson’s “This is my own (bag of not’s),” which features a cast, welded and fabricated bronze grocery bag filled to the brim with (presumably) his own empty prescription bottles, underlines the obvious fact that the companies who produce these drugs and the people who prescribe them have a commercial stake in their acceptance as the means to address mental conditions.

“This my own (bag of not’s).”

While taking in the exhibit during a beautifully sunny break in the weekend’s winter storm warnings, with Graem Whyte, his beautiful and upbeat daughter, and two canine members of the Popps Packing family milling around merrily in the space, it occurred to me that art and family are two other ways one might address mental illness. Many thanks to Brian Nelson for a deeply personal work, and good luck in his continuing process to salvage meaning from an affliction that poses a challenge to continuing existence.

Check out the new show opening on Saturday, January 10th at Popps Packing.

Popps Packing: 12138 Saint Aubin, Hamtramck; www.poppspacking.org