In today’s society, we are witnessing a transformation marked by technological advancements beyond imagination, an overwhelming flood of complex and unintelligible information, tightly woven and centralized social structures, and an ever-fragmenting division of labor. For those of us living through this modern era, sheer survival through fierce competition seems to be all that remains. The spirit of community has faded, and the law of the jungle — where one must trample others to survive — appears to be the only truth that’s revered.
In the struggle to survive these conditions, many are inevitably cast aside and wounded by a winner-takes-all system. Those left behind wander in a haze of defeatism and existential denial, while even the so-called “winners” emerge with their spirits worn down and destroyed by relentless struggle. Counseling centers are crowded with the wounded, and television programs centered on comfort and healing enjoy widespread popularity. People, weary and emotionally battered, send out distress signals in search of solace — but healing is not easily found.
It’s no surprise, then, that we feel a natural impulse to return to the self we once were — to that pure, curious, and unburdened being of our childhood. Though not everyone’s early years were ideal or joyful, many of us still hold a sense of nostalgia for the simple memories of playing all day with neighborhood friends — a scene that now feels almost utopian. The world then was a place brimming with curiosity, and we were purely playful beings.
Tez Kim’s work invites us to reconnect with this sense of childhood. The artist grew up during South Korea’s rapid economic expansion, a time when the country was flooded with products from major global brands — an era of abundance and hope. In Apgujeong, Seoul’s trendiest area at the time, American pop culture made its entrance with the opening of McDonald’s, while brands like Nike and Adidas filled the streets. For the artist, whose childhood was marked by relative comfort both socially and economically, this world appeared as a dazzling new universe filled with vivid and fantastical images.
The various brands that appear in his work are not just commercial objects — they are symbols and semiotic markers of that era. These logos, anchored deep in the artist’s subconscious, naturally become the language of his imagery. Memories of living in Indonesia as a child also remain imprinted in his mind as unique visual signs. The mischievous yet innocent character of a young boy — often seen in his work — is plump and rounded like a 3D model, embodying the playful spirit of his youth.
But of course, childhood isn’t always joyful. It is also a time of confusing solitude, anxiety about the future, and discontent with adults or society. That’s why Tez Kim’s work is not mere nostalgia. His images are charged with a range of emotions — and the boy who appears in them swirls in the midst of this emotional turbulence. His piece referencing Banksy’s Flower Thrower — reimagined as a “Boy Throwing a Banana” — becomes a small yet potent act of protest, a pure and curious child’s shout at a world filled with contradictions and absurdities. In I Love You More Than a Ceiling, a rain-soaked boy in a yellow poncho glances sideways, as if trying to make sense of the unknowable world around him. Meanwhile, another boy soars through the sky on the back of a seagull, appearing as though he possesses the entire world.
Faced with a society that has lost its humanity, the artist poses fundamental questions about life and existence. Is it not in childhood — when the primal id and the ego coexist, as Freud once suggested — that we see the most authentic form of the human being? Through his work, Tez Kim gently asks us to recall and reflect on those shared memories of who we once were.
Having studied industrial design, Kim incorporates design-based composition and structure into his works, constructing narratives that embed deeper philosophical inquiries about memory, identity, and being. This narrative approach allows viewers to overlap their own experiences with the artist’s, creating a transcendent, almost timeless experience.
For humans — beings that cannot exist in isolation — the search for true life and genuine being will always remain. Perhaps, in this dehumanizing and destructive modern life, we can try to substitute the memory of childhood innocence for the way we live now. In this age of endless competition and unconscious objectification, Tez Kim’s work — and the questions it raises — will continue to resonate with meaning.
