Malleable Memories

I am a product of the 1990s, so it’s only natural that I’m drawn to nostalgic imagery of the decade. There are so many ways to define the culture of the 1990s, but I’d be remiss not to mention that this was the period in my life when I was swept up by material culture. In my defense, I was an adolescent, coming of age at a time when video games and toys were bigger and better than ever before. It was all about “keeping up with the Joneses,” or in my case, my friends who seemingly were acquiring all the latest gizmos and gadgets.

In reality, I didn’t need every single new console or toy. I had more than enough, and it was a great opportunity to make and see friends, because we all had something that someone else wanted. The 1990s were truly a time of consumer excess. The surplus of materialism trickled into every aspect of daily life. My perspective on this may be warped a bit because I was a youngster, but I seem to recall there being a lot more mass media objects geared towards active lifestyles than there are today. One of my all time favorite video games is Nintendo’s World Class Track Meet, which used an interactive controller called the Power Pad. When I started my fitness journey, I’d follow along with YouTube HIIT workouts, which gave me flashbacks to when I was vigorously jumping and running in place on the Power Pad. I wrote about this experience in a very early Substack piece called “Cardio in a Cartridge.”

Stephanie H. Shih, Thighmaster, 2024, ceramic. Photo by @bredvad

I’m a big fan of Stephanie H. Shih’s ceramic sculptures, and her latest series of work really hit a chord with me. Shih’s art is a brilliant critical and cross-cultural examination of consumer ideology. She makes nearly identical replications of popular products and brands out of clay. Her work highlights the items that are popular throughout the Asian American diaspora. The items in Domestic Bliss, Shih’s current solo show at Alexander Berggruen, gallery tell a very 1990s tale. Sculptural renditions of TV dinners juxtaposed with self-help books (i.e. Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus and Divorce for Dummies), romance novels, VHS tapes of Buns of Steel and packaging for the now defunct ThighMaster, epitomize the zeitgeist of quick and convenient entertainment, nutrition and wellness.

There’s a lot of unpack here. The vapid promises of wellness and convenience are an overwhelming theme throughout each sculptural tableau. Home video follow along workouts made the option of getting in shape easier than ever. Products like the ThighMaster, albeit useless in reality (it’s more of a toy than a piece of fitness equipment), offer the concept of looking good and sculpting your body without much effort.

Alongside the gimmicky fitness items, Shih’s presentation of fat-free ultra-processed foods like SnackWells cookies epitomize the craze and illusion of a healthy lifestyle. The 1990s were an era when body image was such a mass marketed ideology. I myself developed an eating disorder towards the end of the decade.

The overarching tone of Domestic Bliss isn’t all that blissful. Shih’s aesthetic objects are vessels for alienation, delusion and disappointment. She packs one sardonic punch after the next. It’s no coincidence that Alanis Morissette’s 1995 smash hit album Jagged Little Pill has been faithfully replicated. It’s a pop album infused with the angst of grunge; while Shih’s objects are fine artworks infused with a punk rock attitude. Mundane subject matter becomes elevated and given a new cultural lease. The transformation of mass produced products into unique handmade works of art is a very personal way for Shih and her viewers to connect over common experiences. Through Domestic Bliss, I was brought back to a time that was very formative in my growth. I’m both nostalgic for those days and grateful that they’re bygone.

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