The portrait series, The Important Folks, as part of The Land of Slimes Project, explores the dual nature of portraiture - at times a simple artistic practice, and at other times a politically charged act. In Thailand, portraits of royal figures hold deep cultural significance, often seen as sacred. Any perceived disrespect towards them can incite public anger. This work delved into the enigmatic power of images, questioning how certain portraits convey an almost mystical aura, compelling the audience to respond emotionally and reverently.

Portraits which convey a distinctive posture, all with a subtle yet potent political subtext designed to assert a particular kind of power over the audience. While creating portraits is a standard artistic practice, I've encountered uneasiness during certain drawings. Fear, irritation, sorrow, or overwhelm—prompting self-reflection. It's not the portraits themselves that unsettle me, but rather the aftermath.

Historical Foundation – "In Chan Man Kong": The concept of Volksgeist in "The Land of Slimes" draws from the ancient Thai belief in "In Chan Man Kong," a ritual integral to the establishment of city-states. This Four Gates Ceremony involved burying individuals named In, Chan, Man, and Kong at each of the pillars of the city's gates. It was believed that their spirits would remain to protect the city from enemies and threats.

The criteria for these individuals were stringent: they could not be murderers, lepers, or deaf, and had a predetermined time of death. Some records even mention the burial of a pregnant woman, with preference given to those close to childbirth, reflecting ancient animistic practices.

The Portrait of 2B stems from an exploration of drawing, which began with the simple forms like squares, gradients, and grids. Over the past decade, Thailand has undergone profound changes - Coup d’etats, the transition of King Rama 10, and the aftermath of various tragedies - that have shaken the core of Thai culture. As I reflect on the digital images I’ve collected from the internet, I’m drawn to their poor quality and the contexts in which they were produced. This has led me to question not only how we treat these images but also their intrinsic value and the process that generated them. 

While creating portraits is a standard artistic practice, I've encountered uneasiness during certain drawings. I grapple with emotions—fear, irritation, sorrow, or overwhelm—prompting self-reflection. It's not the portraits themselves that unsettle me, but rather the aftermath. In this process, I invest my labor, time, and craftsmanship using only 2B pencil rendered layer by layer. The unease emerges from the intricate interplay of emotions and the potential repercussions, transcending the mere act of drawing.

Hanging Sticks is an installation composed of lumber and twine, where the pieces are suspended on the wall through tension, without the use of nails or adhesives. The work examines how objects interact with and influence the body, exploring the value we assign to material things and how they impact us physically and emotionally. By challenging the conventional stability and permanence often associated with “art,” Hanging Sticks questions the inherent value in such works. The precariousness of the piece, with its potential to collapse, mirrors a personal reflection on instability and uncertainty in life journey at the time.

“Traps in a Studio” is a series of ephemeral sculptures I created using the studio space and its elements as the primary structure. In the piece “Sugar Cube,” I use sugar as the main material, emphasizing its fragility and the way it can condense into cubes. The cubes are suspended from the ceiling with invisible thread, giving the illusion that they are floating. However, this thread is connected to the ceiling light switch, forming a trap system - if the switch is triggered, the cube will fall. 

Another piece in the series, “Beware,” is constructed from small pieces of MDF. These wooden pieces are installed at the entrance of the studio, held together by the tension between each piece. The rows are positioned at eye and shin height, creating a deliberately uncomfortable situation for anyone entering, heightening the sense of caution and physical awareness in the space.  

Wrong Place Wrong Hair  is a looped video piece that plays with text in motion. Words move up and down, making them challenging to read, while a single static word shakes, resembling “Ku-i” sound. The full sentence, “Wrong hair grow in a wrong place,” is only revealed briefly at the end. This video reflects a statement made by a historic significant figure in Thailand, encapsulating the tension and complexity of their words.  

“ The single hair or nail does not pose a problem when it is missing, but when many are missing, it becomes noticeable, just like people. Even if some people die it may not be noticable, but if many die, it will make the town feel desolate.” Vajirananavarorasa (2004. 1954, 72)