Artists use so many different materials to create their work. The artist's mind seemingly has no limitations. Case in point: Jeff Ostergren, who uses pharmaceuticals as a medium. 

“Prescriptive Visions,” an exhibition by Mr. Ostergren, opens in the Sue and Eugene Mercy Jr. Gallery on Thursday, February 12. An opening reception will take place from 6 p.m. to 7 p.m., including a gallery talk from Mr. Ostergren at 6:15 p.m. Running concurrently to the exhibit are featured student works from all visual arts classes, on view in the Barnes and Wilde galleries. All exhibitions run through March 29. 

“Artists are always looking for new materials and forms to work with, often taking from the world around them,” Mr. Ostergren said by email. “Artists are trained not only to make — but also to look — and that act of looking means that we are always observing and thinking about how to bring elements from daily life into our practice.” 

Mr. Ostergren earned a bachelor's degree from Rice University in Houston in 1998 and a master's in fine arts from Art Center College of Design in Pasadena, Calif., in 2006.  

“Rather than attending art school for undergrad, I studied anthropology and women's studies,” Mr. Ostergren said, “and these have provided another layer in terms of how I approach art. When I went back to art school, I combined the academic critical thinking skills with making work, and that perhaps drives my practice, which involves a lot of research and planning before I even get into the studio.”  

He said he began using pharmaceuticals in his work about 20 years ago during his art studies.  

“While in school, I received a clock from my mother-in-law as a joke gift,” he said. “It was a clock that featured the antidepressant Zoloft, given to doctors' offices as a promotional item by drug representatives, who would visit offices to pitch doctors and nurses on new pharmaceutical products. This one was cheaply constructed of blue plastic and featured the white Zoloft cartoonish blob, which was ubiquitous in television commercials at the time.” 

One day, he said, he placed the clock on “a fairly generic, abstract sculpture made of red wooden slats.” A critique of that work drew a wide range of responses from his peers and instructors. 

“Some took it personally, reflecting passionately upon their own positive experiences with antidepressants,” Mr. Ostergren said. “Others found it to be a pointed critique of corporate America, while still others accused me of being a shill for Big Pharma. The reaction was so strong that I made more work along these lines.” 

“In the process of writing my thesis,” he continued, “I did a lot of research and learned that the origin of the word pharmaceutical is the Greek word ‘pharmakon,’ which meant simultaneously ‘cure,’ ‘poison,’ and ‘paint,’ and this sent me down rabbit holes in terms of exploring interconnected histories of drugs and colors. I've worked in many different media, from painting to video to sculpture, but have primarily focused on this subject matter since then.” 

Mr. Ostergren works in the pointillist style, a technique in which small dots of color are used in patterns to eventually form an image. 

“I make my marks not with a paintbrush but with custom PVC tools that I manufacture using a CNC router,” Mr. Ostergren said. “Sometimes the tools are just one pill dot, and others are larger grids. So most paintings are not entirely done dot by dot, but with small rectangles of dots. Nonetheless, they do take a considerable amount of time.” 

Time that he enjoys. 

“I take pleasure in that time spent in the studio; the act of making becomes about entering a flow state, and is often meditative,” he said. “I like that the repetitive act of mark-making in the way that I do is a lot like consuming pharmaceuticals themselves. Most of the time when we use them, they are on a set schedule (daily, twice daily, etc.) and that becomes its own way of counting and marking time.” 

When viewers take in his work in Mercy Gallery, he hopes they connect to it in their own way.  

“I'm very interested in how the word 'pharmakon,' which evolved into our term pharmaceutical, embodies the fact that drugs are inherently and simultaneously good and bad,” Mr. Ostergren said. “Drugs can kill and cure, can save one's life or lead to addiction, and even the same molecule can help one person and harm another. I think that pharmaceuticals are ubiquitous in this world, and that means that each viewer coming to the exhibition will have their own unique relationship to drugs. I hope that viewers reflect upon that and think about the images and colors that we see in advertising and art and how they can affect us. I also hope viewers take pleasure in the work, through exploring the colors and patterns. But ultimately, despite the title, I have no ‘prescriptive vision.’ I hope that viewers connect with the work on their own terms.” 

Photo credit: Jessica Smolinski