Shin Min (b.1985)’s work begins with a
feeling of anger toward the social structures she has personally
experienced—those that divide the powerful and the powerless. Her sculptures,
composed of multiple layers of paper, express both a deep rage against societal
injustices and a strong will to stand in solidarity with the marginalized.
Through her art, Shin has consistently
shown solidarity with the lives of the vulnerable—especially women workers—who
are often alienated and objectified within today’s vast systems, such as
capitalism. Her figurative sculptures reflect the lives of herself, those
around her, and others beyond her immediate circle, offering small yet
heartfelt gestures of comfort.

Shin Min, Kyungsook, 2006, Mixed media, 14x16x18cm ©Shin Min
Since her early works, Shin Min has focused
on women—including herself—as central subjects. She sculpted small female busts
with somewhat eerie expressions: eyes wide open in anger, tears streaming down
their faces, or bloodshot sclera. These figures were given familiar, everyday
names.
These works can be seen as the artist’s
response to the frustrations she experienced as a woman living in Korea. Shin
has said that in moments of deep frustration—what she describes as “bbak-chim”
(a Korean word for intense irritation or fury)—she found it hard to express
herself in words, so she created “people” instead. Her ‘Crying Women’ series
(2006–2010), consisting of small female busts with angry, tear-filled eyes,
embodies the emotions she had long kept bottled up.

In her 2011 solo exhibition 《Daughters》 at Place MAK, Shin Min presented
small girl-like figures with strawberry noses, which she referred to as her own
“daughters.” The artist pierced the eyes of these small sculptures and burned
incense within them, allowing smoke to gently escape through the holes.
The paper that formed these girls’ bodies
was inscribed with letters and prayers addressed to those she loves, those she
once resented, and those to whom she feels apologetic. Through “borrowing the
bodies of her daughters” and “the smoke of incense,” Shin sought to convey her
innermost thoughts and emotions.

This act of writing letters began at a time
when Shin Min was struggling to create paintings to earn a living, only to find
her work not going as she had hoped. In an effort to break through this
frustrating situation, she turned to what she called “letter-like works” that
came more naturally to her. Using familiar materials—letter paper, pencils,
newspaper, and glue—she began molding clay figures and casting them to create
her emotional counterparts, Daughters.
In this sense, Shin’s practice carries a
ritualistic quality, as it involves channeling her emotions into handmade
figures. According to the artist, once she had prepared her materials in her
own way and mentally readied herself, she would begin shaping the faces as if
guided by an unseen force—much like a séance—following an intuitive pull.

Shin Min describes her work as akin to a ritualistic act. Since the beginning of her practice, she has used paper as her primary material to create human-shaped talismans. With each piece, she attaches paper, repeats written phrases, and forms faces while wishing that “whoever sees this sculpture will be protected from all harm.”

Meanwhile, Shin Min has channeled her anger
over the harsh realities of high-intensity, low-wage labor into her work,
drawing from her personal experience working at the global fast-food chain
McDonald’s.
She saw the massive amount of discarded
French fry packaging as a symbol of cheap, disposable labor. Using these
materials, she began creating figures of workers dressed in fast-food uniforms,
highlighting the dehumanizing cycle of labor and waste.

One of Shin Min’s representative works
using French fry sacks is Part-Time Worker in Downward Dog
Pose (2014), a human figure wearing an actual McDonald’s uniform.
This sculpture powerfully reflects both the symbolic role of McDonald’s in the
capitalist era and the shared realities of today’s youth—including the artist
herself.
The figure is positioned in the yoga pose
known as "Downward Dog," through which the artist raises a critical
question: Is it truly right to turn to yoga for healing from illnesses caused
by labor itself?

Service workers tasked with selling “Happy
Meals” at McDonald’s are forced to wear cheerful smiles as part of their job,
yet Shin Min’s paper figures defy this demand. Their eyes are wide open in an
intense stare, mouths agape as if shouting, and brows furrowed with rage.
Through these unsmiling, unkind sculptures, Shin releases the repressed
emotions hidden behind customer service smiles—giving voice to silent rage.
Over time, the artist came to realize that
under neoliberalism, all service workers are inherently positioned as the
vulnerable. Her anger, she came to understand, was not solely directed at a
corporation like McDonald’s, but at the deeper, unjust social structures that
produce such exploitation.

Drawing from these experiences, Shin Min began creating sculptural groups of female service workers commonly seen in fast-food chains, cafés, restaurants, police stations, and department stores—many of whom wear the black mesh hairnets typical of the service industry. The black hairnet, along with the neatly tucked hair it conceals, symbolically represents the embodied experience of capitalism for Korean women.

In her 2022 solo exhibition 《Semi 世美》 at The Great Collection, Shin Min
presented a series of small figurative sculptures named “Semi” that represent
ourselves or countless others around us who struggle to withstand the harsh
tides of life amid unstable employment conditions.
Inspired by the common use of English
nicknames among franchise workers, “Semi” embodies those who labor in anonymous
offices, tucked between the towering buildings of urban centers, wearing fake
names on their chests. Sometimes comical, sometimes cute, and at times defiant,
these small figures make visible the existence of many young people working in
low-wage, high-intensity service jobs. Gathered together, the Semis also evoke
a powerful sense of solidarity unique to their shared experience.

Shin Min, who openly describes herself as
an SNS addict, views actions such as liking someone’s opinion or tagging each
other online as forms of solidarity in today’s era. Her 2024 sculpture Let’s
Take a Selfie Together❤️
imagines five high school students from different places, brought together by
shared beliefs through SNS or online communities, taking a group photo. Though
this moment might one day become a cringeworthy memory, the work captures the
genuine act of support and encouragement shared in that instant.
Shin also embraces her identity as an “SNS
attention-seeker” as a deliberate artistic strategy. People photograph her
works and share them across their own social media platforms, allowing the
messages within her art to travel along digital timelines. For her, being an
attention-seeker is not just a personal trait, but a mode of participating in
society and a method of disseminating art.

My Reflection in My Mind
(2024), presented at the Buk-Seoul Museum of Art, evolved from Shin Min’s
earlier sculptural “talismans” embodying personal emotions toward someone, into
a participatory work that brings together the hearts of many viewers.
Inspired by the act of walking in circles
around a temple pagoda while praying, this sculpture invites viewers to
physically walk around it, write their wishes on pieces of paper, and attach
them directly to the work. Through this piece, Shin hoped to offer people a
vivid, up-close experience of her artistic process.
Unlike most artworks displayed in galleries
that are often fossilized within the space and stripped of vitality, her
sculpture remains alive and dynamic. Her piece not only reveals the process of its
making but also invites active participation from the audience. By allowing
viewers to engage with the work during its formation, she transforms sculpture
into a “living, moving” entity.

Shin Min has long worked with paper—a
fragile material that is easily altered, torn, and worn away—to embody the
lives and emotions of the vulnerable in contemporary society, especially female
laborers. She writes words of well-wishing on the paper, draws faces that rage
in place of those who cannot, and through this, expresses both solidarity and
fury.
The soft and unstructured materiality of
paper and pencil mirrors the artist’s own sensibilities, breathing life into
her works. Shin’s sculptures are not mere forms—they are stories of countless
women living through this very reality.
“I love art. Because I believe art is one
of the few ways to move people and speak about those who are marginalized.
Who am I, and what kind of world
do we live in? I think of art as the act of struggling to think for oneself in
search of answers to life’s riddles—and through this struggle, I find my sense
of self.” (Shin Min, Artist's Note)

Shin Min graduated with a Bachelor’s degree
in mechanical and system design engineering from Hong-ik University and has
worked in Seoul. Her solo exhibitions include 《Ew! Hair
in My Food!》 (P21, Seoul, 2025), 《semi 世美》 (The Great Collection, Seoul,
2022), 《People Made of Paper》 (Incheon
Art Platform, Incheon, 2017), 《The Gigantic Golden Arch》 (Seoul art space seogyo, Seoul, 2015), 《We’re
all made of ___》 (Place MAK, Seoul, 2014), and more.
She also participated in group exhibitions
at various institutions, including the 7th Changwon Sculpture Biennale (Changwon,
2024), SeMA Buk-Seoul Museum of Art (Seoul, 2024), Jeonbuk Museum of Art (Jeonbuk,
2024), and Museum of Contemporary Art Busan (Busan, 2023). She also has
experience as a guest performer with Trust Dance Theater (2006-2008).
Her works are included in the collection of
Jeonbuk Museum of Art, Mirae High School of Science and Technology, and Ulsan
Nodong 1987. She is the inaugural winner of the MGM Discoveries Art Prize at
Art Basel Hong Kong 2025.