Nestled in Northwest Arkansas, Bentonville has evolved into a key player in the world of retail and corporate landscapes. This dynamic town’s identity is closely tied to Walton’s, a small five-and-dime store that opened in 1950 on the downtown square. The store’s success led its owner, Sam Walton, to open another store nearby, which eventually grew into the world’s largest retailer: Walmart.
In the 1960s, a post-war economic surge swept across the United States, reshaping the country’s commercial environment. The suburban American Dream pushed retailers to find new ways to meet the needs of families seeking affordable essentials. This period saw convenience stores and chains adopting new features, such as self-serve gasoline pumps.
The 1980s and ’90s marked a new era in U.S. commerce, driven by modernization. Supermarkets began to epitomize the “one-stop-shop” concept, far exceeding prior ideas of convenience. Shoppers could handle a week’s worth of groceries, refill household supplies, get prescriptions, and grab a meal at the food court—all while waiting for their trip photos to develop via rapid film processing. The frozen food aisle offered easy dinner solutions, alongside the option to purchase VHS movies to complement a “TV dinner.”
U.K.-based artist Lucy Sparrow describes this period as “the beginning of convenience,” which is also the title of her latest large-scale installation and her first museum exhibition in the United States. The Beginning of Convenience at The Momentary evokes nostalgia for regional chain stores, retro packaging, and a time when life was shifting towards enjoyment rather than toil, as Sparrow noted at the exhibition’s opening.
Modern grocery stores can often feel overwhelming, but Sparrow’s extensive installation creates a sense of joy and comfort rather than sensory overload. Featuring more than 20,000 handmade felt objects, this expansive collection fills a 4,000-square-foot gallery, offering an immersive experience for visitors—or “shoppers.”
The exhibition’s enchantment lies in its attention to detail, crafting a comprehensive sensory experience. As visitors navigate the aisles, they are serenaded by old-school supermarket tunes, punctuated by playful, familiar intercom announcements, summoning the parents of a lost girl named Lucy to the photo department.
At the exhibition’s opening, Lucy Sparrow wore a custom light blue, collared shirtdress with vertical stripes, inspired by original Walmart uniforms, a subtle tribute to the exhibition’s location.
Sparrow has a unique ability to create inviting spaces that appeal to everyone. Her installations are crafted from her imaginative world, inviting visitors into a space of vulnerability. According to an exhibition statement, “Lucy’s work is quirky yet subversive. Her colorful felt creations charm and disarm visitors, while her detailed research and keen observations evoke nostalgia, foster community, and spark conversations about shared history.”
This human connection is a refreshing contrast to the often impersonal nature of American consumerism and corporate growth. Recently, grocery shopping has become a contentious experience for many Americans, a reminder of tight household budgets and rising costs, making it hard to view retail spaces as anything but stressful.
The joy and wonder present in The Beginning of Convenience offer a stark contrast. This environment encourages visitors to rediscover the pleasures of retail innovation and the nostalgia it brings.
Felt, as a material, evokes warmth and security, akin to the comfort of soft toys. As visitors wander through Sparrow’s produce and meat sections, they are greeted by the friendly faces of netted oranges, juicy grapefruits, and pork chops.
In this imaginative world, Sparrow’s soft sculptures seem to possess unique personalities. The Georgia peaches might be more cheerful than their prickly pineapple neighbors, and the beef steaks, though tough on the outside, may be tender inside. This world merges the vibrant spirit of commercialism with the slow, deliberate creation of handmade objects through cutting, stuffing, sewing, and embellishing.
As visitors leave the supermarket setting, they encounter more felt representations of everyday items found in grocery store vestibules: vending machines with Coke or Pepsi, a photobooth, a coin-operated car ride, and an electronic ATM, which was gaining popularity at the time.
Around the corner, visitors enter a space filled with over 3,000 stuffed bananas. This is a recreation of Sparrow’s “Banana Room,” a comforting retreat in her studio where she feels surrounded by happiness. She received her first plush banana as a child, and a larger version named Sebastian later joined her collection. Sebastian appears throughout the exhibition, symbolizing the enduring childlike wonder that permeates Sparrow’s work.
Opposite the Banana Room is the “Felt Cave,” a replica of Sparrow’s Suffolk studio, which was once an ambulance station. This space offers insight into her creative process and the collaborative efforts involved in producing thousands of felt objects. Sparrow’s team includes five full-time assistants, freelancers, four cats, and, naturally, Sebastian.
The Felt Cave features a faux window showing the studio’s actual view, looking out at two colorful cars, including a hot pink Jeep with a “F3LT U” license plate. The room is filled with unexpected delights, such as an “HR Department” of spectacled bananas, a bright yellow cuckoo clock, and “dab dabs”—abstract art made by dabbing paint bottle tips.
The Beginning of Convenience is open for viewing until July 11, 2027.
