CREDITS:
Illustration of Jakkai Siributr by Maria Chen, inspired from photo courtesy of CHAT (Centre for Heritage Arts and Textiles), Hong Kong
ALL WORKS: ©Jakkai Siributr
1-3. Blind Faith. Photo by Chanoopat Boonwong
4. Transient Shelter, courtesy of CHAT (Centre for Heritage Arts and Textile ), Hong Kong
5-6. Phayao a Porter, courtesy of CHAT ( Centre for Heritage Arts and Textile ), Hong Kong
7. C-10, 2014, digital print, 102 x 76 cm
8. Changing Room detail
9. Changing Room. Photo by Smit Na Nakonpanom
10-11. 78 interior. Photo by Smit Na Nakornpanom
12. Jakkai Siributr There's No Place, Whitworth Gallery, 2024. Photos Antonio Parente
13. Airborne Phra Nakhon, courtesy Arts Maebashi
14. Broadlands, courtesy Preecha Pattara and 100 Tonson Foundation
15. BPB
16. Blackdeath
17. Jakkai Siributr Airborne Klongtoey, Whitworth Gallery, 2024. Photos Antonio Parente
18. Jakkai Siributr_The Outlaw’s Flag
19-20. Jakkai Siributr_There's no Place photo by Markus Gortz
21-22. Jakkai Siributr There's No Place Installation at Whitworth Gallery. Photos Antonio Parente
Jakkai Siributr, a pioneering textile artist from Thailand, brings deeply personal and politically charged narratives to the global stage. In his first UK solo exhibition, There’s No Place, at the Whitworth Art Gallery, Jakkai explores themes of displacement, cultural memory, and the intersection of personal and national histories. Known for his intricate embroidery and community collaborations, Jakkai sheds light on untold stories of marginalised communities, drawing on influences from his upbringing in Bangkok, education in the United States, and extensive travels. In this exclusive interview with CNTRFLD.ART, Jakkai reflects on his creative journey, the social impact of his work, and advice for emerging artists navigating the contemporary art world.
CNTRFLD. Your first UK solo exhibition, There’s No Place, opens at the Whitworth this November. How does it feel to bring your work to a new audience in the UK?
JS. It always feels great to be given an opportunity to exhibit my work anywhere in the world because I get to tell my stories to the wider audience, stories of communities living on the margin that are often go unheard. So, to have my first UK solo exhibition at the Whitworth means that I’m able to bring the voices of stateless communities and Muslim minorities to the UK audience, which is fantastic.
CNTRFLD. Textiles play a central role in your practice. What first sparked your interest in textiles and embroidery, and how did your upbringing in Bangkok influence this passion?
JS. I studied textile art and textile design in college and that’s the reason why textiles play a central role in my practice. But looking back, I may have been greatly influenced by my late aunt - a batik artist whom I’ve spent a great deal of my childhood in her studio and also the many women in my life, various ‘aunties’ and a nanny who constantly mended old clothes and blankets.
CNTRFLD. Can you share more about your journey to becoming an artist? What motivated you to pursue a life in the arts, and how has your education in the U.S. shaped your perspective?
JS. I have always liked art but was not that good at it and if I had stayed on to complete my studies in Thailand, I certainly wouldn’t have studied art. At the age of 15, I received a scholarship to attend The United World College in New Mexico, USA where my interest in art grew even more. The encouragement of my art teacher to develop an individual style rather than to excel in draughtsmanship as was the case in Thailand built up enough confidence to further my studies in Art. Yet the prospect to become an artist in Thailand back in the early 1990’s was bleak and that was why I chose to major in textile art thinking I could find a job in one of the Thai silk companies or open a textile studio like my aunt upon my return. Then I started working as a lecturer at the fashion/textile department of the newly established Faculty of Fine and Applied Arts, Thammasat University. My students at the time were unfamiliar with western concept of textile art, so I started to make different artwork to show them as an introduction. After a year or so, I’ve accumulated enough work to stage my first solo exhibition and that’s how I segued to become an artist.
CNTRFLD. The exhibition explores themes of home and belonging through collaborative embroidery. Can you tell us about your work with the Koung Jor Shan Refugee Camp and its significance in this project?
JS. In 2019 I travelled to the Thai/Myanmar border to conduct a story telling workshop with residents of the Kuong Jor Shan Refugee Camp. I heard their stories and their plight as stateless people in Thailand that I was never aware of before. ‘There’s no Place’, which is the title of the project conceptualized soon after my return to the studio with the goal of creating a dialogue between the displaced ethnic Shan minorities and viewers around the world and supports them financially through their embroidery work.
CNTRFLD. Your art often delves into Thailand’s political and social histories. How do your personal experiences and memories inform these narratives?
JS. When I explore the themes of Thailand’s political and social histories in my work, it forces me to dive deep into extensive research on certain subjects that I may have not been aware of. But these experiences can also be personal as my family history intersects with the national history. Our family have been tragically affected by incidents during Thailand’s most tumultuous period. By addressing these issues in my work, it is my way of coming to terms with them.
CNTRFLD. There’s No Place also highlights the impact of the COVID-19 pandemic. How did the pandemic shape your practice and inspire recent projects like Phayao-a-Porter?
JS. Works from the Airborne and Outworn Series, created during the pandemic are included in the exhibition. During that same time, I also started Phayao-a-Porter project, a limited series of one-of a-kind commissioned jackets to keep my studio assistants busy during the 2020 lockdown and later expanded to the remote northern province of Phayao to help women artisans whom I’ve previously collaborated with and have suffered economically during the pandemic. The project offered them some temporary employment for their craft and 30% from the sales from each garment return to the community as scholarships, welfare and emergency funds.
CNTRFLD. You’ve explored the interaction between Buddhism and materialism in Thailand. How has your cultural background shaped this exploration, and what do you hope audiences take away from it?
JS. Having spent ten years abroad, when I came back to live in Thailand at the age of 25, I was seeing my own country through the lens of a fifteen-year-old boy, especially Thai Buddhism. And I started to question these aspects of our religion through my work. Later did I learn that Thai Buddhism is a very syncretic religion deeply influenced by animism, Hinduism, Brahmanism, ancestral worships among others. So, a lot of what I’ve explored in my work- religion, history, politics really stemmed from my own ignorance.
CNTRFLD. Your projects often involve collaboration with local communities and artisans. Why is this collaborative element important to you, and how does it shape the narratives you tell?
JS. My parents have always insisted that their children must always contribute to society in some ways. My mother always felt that because of her privilege upbringing which became some kind of guilt, especially in a country such as Thailand, she had to give back. She was involved with so many charity organizations. One of the core emphases of the United World College was also community service so this principal is deeply rooted in me and even while I was in college, I wanted to work for international organizations that work with communities in need. These narratives are told through empathy, and I feel extremely fortunate that at this point in my life, I’m able to contribute to society in some way through my art practice.
CNTRFLD. You’ve exhibited across the globe, from Singapore to Venice to San Francisco. How do different cultural contexts influence your work and its reception?
JS. At first glance, my audience outside of Thailand may view my work to be Thai centric. Many of the inspirations, influences and narratives surely come from the Southeast Asia region. But I believe that we all share mutual experiences whether it’s the corruption of religion, political polarization, displacement, history or even the notion of loss and grief.
CNTRFLD. What advice would you give to emerging artists, particularly those from Southeast Asia, who are striving to build careers in the contemporary art world?
JS. Choose to tell stories that are close to the heart. Don’t make work according to the trends. Don’t rush and don’t quit even if it means you must juggle two or more jobs. With some luck and a lot of hard work, opportunities will come.
About the artist
Jakkai Siributr is known primarily for his textile and embroidery works, and his installations increasingly offer an element of audience participation. Siributr is concerned with the unofficial histories that have been written out of Thai account as well as intersections between personal and regional histories. He creates a delicate tension between his subject matter — ongoing conflict driven by nationalistic discrimination against minorities — and the visual sensuality of his chosen form and materials. More recently he has begun to work with various communities through embroidery workshops including refugees on the Thai Myanmar border and the USA. He also worked with the Thai Government on a social developmental program in remote areas of Mozambique. Studying and residing in the USA for nearly ten years, Siributr earned his BA in Textiles/Fine Arts, at Indiana University Bloomington in 1992 and MS in Printed Textile Design at the Philadelphia University in 1996. He was an instructor at Thammasat University’s Faculty of Fine and Applied Arts from 1996-2003.
Jakkai Siributr, a pioneering textile artist from Thailand, brings deeply personal and politically charged narratives to the global stage. In his first UK solo exhibition, There’s No Place, at the Whitworth Art Gallery, Jakkai explores themes of displacement, cultural memory, and the intersection of personal and national histories. Known for his intricate embroidery and community collaborations, Jakkai sheds light on untold stories of marginalised communities, drawing on influences from his upbringing in Bangkok, education in the United States, and extensive travels. In this exclusive interview with CNTRFLD.ART, Jakkai reflects on his creative journey, the social impact of his work, and advice for emerging artists navigating the contemporary art world.
CNTRFLD. Your first UK solo exhibition, There’s No Place, opens at the Whitworth this November. How does it feel to bring your work to a new audience in the UK?
JS. It always feels great to be given an opportunity to exhibit my work anywhere in the world because I get to tell my stories to the wider audience, stories of communities living on the margin that are often go unheard. So, to have my first UK solo exhibition at the Whitworth means that I’m able to bring the voices of stateless communities and Muslim minorities to the UK audience, which is fantastic.
CNTRFLD. Textiles play a central role in your practice. What first sparked your interest in textiles and embroidery, and how did your upbringing in Bangkok influence this passion?
JS. I studied textile art and textile design in college and that’s the reason why textiles play a central role in my practice. But looking back, I may have been greatly influenced by my late aunt - a batik artist whom I’ve spent a great deal of my childhood in her studio and also the many women in my life, various ‘aunties’ and a nanny who constantly mended old clothes and blankets.
CNTRFLD. Can you share more about your journey to becoming an artist? What motivated you to pursue a life in the arts, and how has your education in the U.S. shaped your perspective?
JS. I have always liked art but was not that good at it and if I had stayed on to complete my studies in Thailand, I certainly wouldn’t have studied art. At the age of 15, I received a scholarship to attend The United World College in New Mexico, USA where my interest in art grew even more. The encouragement of my art teacher to develop an individual style rather than to excel in draughtsmanship as was the case in Thailand built up enough confidence to further my studies in Art. Yet the prospect to become an artist in Thailand back in the early 1990’s was bleak and that was why I chose to major in textile art thinking I could find a job in one of the Thai silk companies or open a textile studio like my aunt upon my return. Then I started working as a lecturer at the fashion/textile department of the newly established Faculty of Fine and Applied Arts, Thammasat University. My students at the time were unfamiliar with western concept of textile art, so I started to make different artwork to show them as an introduction. After a year or so, I’ve accumulated enough work to stage my first solo exhibition and that’s how I segued to become an artist.
CNTRFLD. The exhibition explores themes of home and belonging through collaborative embroidery. Can you tell us about your work with the Koung Jor Shan Refugee Camp and its significance in this project?
JS. In 2019 I travelled to the Thai/Myanmar border to conduct a story telling workshop with residents of the Kuong Jor Shan Refugee Camp. I heard their stories and their plight as stateless people in Thailand that I was never aware of before. ‘There’s no Place’, which is the title of the project conceptualized soon after my return to the studio with the goal of creating a dialogue between the displaced ethnic Shan minorities and viewers around the world and supports them financially through their embroidery work.
CNTRFLD. Your art often delves into Thailand’s political and social histories. How do your personal experiences and memories inform these narratives?
JS. When I explore the themes of Thailand’s political and social histories in my work, it forces me to dive deep into extensive research on certain subjects that I may have not been aware of. But these experiences can also be personal as my family history intersects with the national history. Our family have been tragically affected by incidents during Thailand’s most tumultuous period. By addressing these issues in my work, it is my way of coming to terms with them.
CNTRFLD. There’s No Place also highlights the impact of the COVID-19 pandemic. How did the pandemic shape your practice and inspire recent projects like Phayao-a-Porter?
JS. Works from the Airborne and Outworn Series, created during the pandemic are included in the exhibition. During that same time, I also started Phayao-a-Porter project, a limited series of one-of a-kind commissioned jackets to keep my studio assistants busy during the 2020 lockdown and later expanded to the remote northern province of Phayao to help women artisans whom I’ve previously collaborated with and have suffered economically during the pandemic. The project offered them some temporary employment for their craft and 30% from the sales from each garment return to the community as scholarships, welfare and emergency funds.
CNTRFLD. You’ve explored the interaction between Buddhism and materialism in Thailand. How has your cultural background shaped this exploration, and what do you hope audiences take away from it?
JS. Having spent ten years abroad, when I came back to live in Thailand at the age of 25, I was seeing my own country through the lens of a fifteen-year-old boy, especially Thai Buddhism. And I started to question these aspects of our religion through my work. Later did I learn that Thai Buddhism is a very syncretic religion deeply influenced by animism, Hinduism, Brahmanism, ancestral worships among others. So, a lot of what I’ve explored in my work- religion, history, politics really stemmed from my own ignorance.
CNTRFLD. Your projects often involve collaboration with local communities and artisans. Why is this collaborative element important to you, and how does it shape the narratives you tell?
JS. My parents have always insisted that their children must always contribute to society in some ways. My mother always felt that because of her privilege upbringing which became some kind of guilt, especially in a country such as Thailand, she had to give back. She was involved with so many charity organizations. One of the core emphases of the United World College was also community service so this principal is deeply rooted in me and even while I was in college, I wanted to work for international organizations that work with communities in need. These narratives are told through empathy, and I feel extremely fortunate that at this point in my life, I’m able to contribute to society in some way through my art practice.
CNTRFLD. You’ve exhibited across the globe, from Singapore to Venice to San Francisco. How do different cultural contexts influence your work and its reception?
JS. At first glance, my audience outside of Thailand may view my work to be Thai centric. Many of the inspirations, influences and narratives surely come from the Southeast Asia region. But I believe that we all share mutual experiences whether it’s the corruption of religion, political polarization, displacement, history or even the notion of loss and grief.
CNTRFLD. What advice would you give to emerging artists, particularly those from Southeast Asia, who are striving to build careers in the contemporary art world?
JS. Choose to tell stories that are close to the heart. Don’t make work according to the trends. Don’t rush and don’t quit even if it means you must juggle two or more jobs. With some luck and a lot of hard work, opportunities will come.
About the artist
Jakkai Siributr is known primarily for his textile and embroidery works, and his installations increasingly offer an element of audience participation. Siributr is concerned with the unofficial histories that have been written out of Thai account as well as intersections between personal and regional histories. He creates a delicate tension between his subject matter — ongoing conflict driven by nationalistic discrimination against minorities — and the visual sensuality of his chosen form and materials. More recently he has begun to work with various communities through embroidery workshops including refugees on the Thai Myanmar border and the USA. He also worked with the Thai Government on a social developmental program in remote areas of Mozambique. Studying and residing in the USA for nearly ten years, Siributr earned his BA in Textiles/Fine Arts, at Indiana University Bloomington in 1992 and MS in Printed Textile Design at the Philadelphia University in 1996. He was an instructor at Thammasat University’s Faculty of Fine and Applied Arts from 1996-2003.
CREDITS:
Illustration of Jakkai Siributr by Maria Chen, inspired from photo courtesy of CHAT (Centre for Heritage Arts and Textiles), Hong Kong
ALL WORKS: ©Jakkai Siributr
1-3. Blind Faith. Photo by Chanoopat Boonwong
4. Transient Shelter, courtesy of CHAT (Centre for Heritage Arts and Textile ), Hong Kong
5-6. Phayao a Porter, courtesy of CHAT ( Centre for Heritage Arts and Textile ), Hong Kong
7. C-10, 2014, digital print, 102 x 76 cm
8. Changing Room detail
9. Changing Room. Photo by Smit Na Nakonpanom
10-11. 78 interior. Photo by Smit Na Nakornpanom
12. Jakkai Siributr There's No Place, Whitworth Gallery, 2024. Photos Antonio Parente
13. Airborne Phra Nakhon, courtesy Arts Maebashi
14. Broadlands, courtesy Preecha Pattara and 100 Tonson Foundation
15. BPB
16. Blackdeath
17. Jakkai Siributr Airborne Klongtoey, Whitworth Gallery, 2024. Photos Antonio Parente
18. Jakkai Siributr_The Outlaw’s Flag
19-20. Jakkai Siributr_There's no Place photo by Markus Gortz
21-22. Jakkai Siributr There's No Place Installation at Whitworth Gallery. Photos Antonio Parente