Alongside his feature films, Apichatpong Weerasethakul has consistently cultivated a complementary body of work on the fringes of traditional cinema throughout his 30-year career. Whether through his photographic work or multimedia installations, a common "fascination with movement" pervades his creations, as he acknowledges. In fact, his oeuvre is deeply rooted in the very essence of "cinema," deriving from kínêma (κίνημα), meaning "movement" in ancient Greek. The three recent works showcased at the Thailand Biennale titled The Open World, on view until April 30, 2024, serve as exemplary manifestations of this ethos.
Displayed at the Kochasan Conference Hall in Chiang Rai for a week, A Conversation with the Sun (VR) (2023) is conceived as “a collection of small memories of home and friends," which captures "a night and dream of a dialogue with the sun,” according to the Thai filmmaker. It consists of an installation that transitions from screen projection to virtual immersion. Previously shown at the Aichi Triennale in Japan and the Theater der Welt in Frankfurt, Germany, it explores the potentialities of virtual reality in an aesthetic and poetic manner. Through a unique blend of archaic and modern references, the artist sheds new light on the roots of cinema, from prehistorical cave rituals and animist culture to a novel artistic realm, blending new technologies with dreamlike impressions. His engagement with VR also prompts a reflection on the pioneers of moving images, such as English photographer Eadweard Muybridge (1830-1904) and avant-garde filmmaker Hans Richter (1888-1976).
A Conversation with the Sun (VR) also stands out as his second collaboration with Japanese composer Ryuichi Sakamoto (1952-2023), following Async - first light, his short film from 2017. Weerasethakul praises Sakamoto’s contribution as “the heart of the show,” lauding “the physicality of his sound”. The VR work is dedicated to the memory of the Japanese composer who passed away a year ago.
Displayed in the picturesque setting of an abandoned school in the city of Chiang Saen, his other two works at the Biennale also play with cinematic conventions. Solarium (2023) is directly inspired by a popular Thai horror movie. It offers a sophisticated screening experience in which a 20-minute silent film can be seen in a loop from the opposing sides of the same translucent screen: first in the Ghost Screening Room or Side A, and then in the Light Observation Room or Side B.
As for Blue Encore (2023), the installation comprises three curtains hung on racks that move automatically along the walls and windows. It delves into pictorial references, as the curtains feature printed versions of landscape paintings by three artists from Chiang Rai. Here, Weerasethakul imbues the art of motion pictures with a literal meaning.
Ahead of the presentation of his new installation in collaboration with Korean artist Haegue Yang, to be shown this summer in Naoshima in Japan’s Seto Inland Sea and a new project with the Centre Pompidou in Paris, he shares eye-opening insights about his latest works.
Rémy Jarry: What are your favourite artworks in the current Thailand Biennale so far?
Apichatpong Weerasethakul: I’ve always been at my side, with no time for the rest. But I’ve seen the piece by Pierre Huyghe [Untitled (Human Mask), 2014] at the Chiang Rai International Art Museum (CIAM). That was an amazing experience because I didn't know what I was going to see. It was like a shock.
Rémy: How about A Conversation with The Sun (VR), your first venture into virtual reality?
Apichatpong: I'm still getting new impressions every day. It feels to me like an ancient ritual, where people gather around a fire in a cave to share stories. The first cinema was in the cave, with the shadow play which stamped our identity or story onto the cave. It also comes from my curiosity about VR as the future of cinema. But after I've been working with it, I don't think it is. Cinema is inherently subjective and controlled, whereas VR offers an open platform, more akin to a stage for people to participate in, like a performance. While there are nods to Muybridge and connections to shadows and movements, for me, VR is not cinema, it’s another branch coming from the same tree.
Rémy: How did your second collaboration with Ryuichi Sakamoto come about?
Apichatpong: We rarely discussed work when we met. I sent him some clips and keywords such as "transformation", "dissolution" and "infinite meaning." Then, we engaged in a back-and-forth process. I would try out his sound and then adjust the image accordingly. Our collaboration was very organic.
Rémy: This VR piece incorporates recurring elements from your films, such as ghost mythologies and animism. What sets it apart from your past works?
Apichatpong: Working on this VR piece has been liberating for me. In cinema, my work often revolves around my memories of people and places. However, in VR, it's more about the memories of the participants. You go in and see people walking with devices fixed on their heads. You wonder what they're looking at. Then, you see the screen, people protesting, sleeping. Once you are in the VR, it becomes like a dream, but you hear the same sound and understand that the actual people who just came in after you become ghosts because you don't see them anymore. So, this shifting of bodies and memories becomes superimposed within your brain. When you move into the cave, you see the light of people in the VR as spirits. All these layers of components are intriguing to me.
Rémy: A Conversation with the Sun is also the title of a previous installation and a book that you presented at Bangkok City Gallery in 2022. How are these eponymous works connected?
Apichatpong: The previous installation in Bangkok is about movement, both internal within our minds and external toward the sun. As I was losing interest in cinema and art, I had to visit a friend at a museum. I became fascinated by people walking around the museum, and how they moved differently in front of each artwork. Then I realised that we are moving, the Earth is moving around the sun at 107,000km/h. Although we don't feel it, we're moving together. I realised that my love lies in the ritual and I want to play with this mechanic.
As for the book, it is about our collaboration with the machine, to see what ChatGPT can do. AI is historically very important: learning continuously from our inputs, it almost seems the internet was created for it. For me, it's another kind of filmmaking or story-making.
The VR piece is really in the tradition of impressionists. I feel like I'm just recording life and light through the eye of the camera. It's primarily impressions, especially of my love of people, friends and the northeast of Thailand. Of course, it also carries conceptual and political undertones. But it's more about looking and recording. Regarding the Andean statue [with a prominent erect penis] also featured in the VR, it comes from one of the small sculptures that I have seen in a museum in Peru. So, it's based on animism, like my earlier short film Fireworks (Archives) in 2014.
Rémy: You’re also presenting Blue Encore, an installation of moving curtains with reproductions of paintings from local artists in Chiang Rai. Can you tell us more about it?
Apichatpong: These reproductions are landscape paintings from local artists because Chiang Rai is renowned for its “impressionist” painters. The installation also reflects my appreciation of movement, shadows and light within a room where these curtains keep on moving. Thus, the room’s windows, as well as the exterior, are integral to the whole work. Instead of hanging things on walls, I aim to activate our awareness and appreciation for movement. It also has this animistic sensation, bringing life to something inanimate.
Rémy: Is this display setting an attempt to depart from Western or bourgeois art canons?
Apichatpong: My thinking is still very bourgeois. I cannot change myself, my education, all my references to Western cinema and art history. It’s more about what these objects can activate and the beauty they can convey within their surroundings.
Rémy: Solarium, your third work included in the biennale, is inspired by Phee Ta Boh (ผีตาโบ๋, literally translated as ‘anophthalmic ghost’), a Thai horror movie from 1981 directed by Nopphon Komarachun (นพพล โกมารชุน). What motivates this reference?
Apichatpong: Phee Ta Boh is a mix of horror and comedy, something that has stuck with me since my childhood. The film itself also reflects other movies I watched during that time. Growing up in Khon Kaen where nights were dark, I've been drawn to darkness since I was young. As kids, we enjoyed venturing out in the dark with our flashlights to play and often shared ghost stories. My fascination with darkness and light also explains why I loved going to the cinema. Solarium revisits those past experiences and takes a serious look at this film. I've selected certain scenes to recreate them, drawing inspiration from Western early experimental films made during the Industrial Revolution and the dawn of cinema. Thus, there's homage paid to Hans Richter, Marcel Duchamp and Fernand Léger, who explored geometry, light, perception and movement.
Rémy: What about your relationship with time within your work?
Apichatpong: I've always been struck by the saying: “My time is not your time”. For me, it's not only that but also: my time is not my time. The time when I was making Blissfully Yours is no longer the present. Time is an expression. You capture where you are, the people you love and your time. In that sense, Memoria represents the time of Colombia and myself there, as well as the internal sense of time.
Rémy: How do you determine the right duration for a particular sequence?
Apichatpong: I don't know. But I always say that if it's too long, I will cut it!
Rémy: Your installations often reference cave and fire rituals as protocinema, a recurring theme from Fever Room (2015) to A Conversation with The Sun (VR). Additionally, you break free from traditional cinema constraints by redefining projection settings. Could 'metacinema' describe your approach appropriately?
Apichatpong: Cinema can also refer to itself. So, I would agree because I like to create an awareness of looking. When you look at the cinema, you get lost in it. We have a biological need for movies, to get lost, and to stop hearing our voices. But sometimes, when cinema creates something that makes you aware of your thoughts again, it's precious to me. It's almost like meditation when while sitting, you are aware of your internal dialogue.
Rémy: Would this aim to separate cinema from entertainment?
Apichatpong: When considering the definition of entertainment, I still believe that art inherently serves as entertainment. Art always entertains, whether intellectually or otherwise. The sight of moving images always evokes a sense of innocence. In our youth, we play with shadows and flashlights, uninhibited by labels like Impressionism or Relational Art. We simply explore with curiosity. Even now, when I handle a camera or edit footage, I'm transported back to a childlike state, free from fear and rules, filled only with a fascination for simple magic.
Rémy: This biennale has been co-directed by Rirkrit Tiravanija, who is often associated with the concept of relational art or relational aesthetics. What is your stance on this term?
Apichatpong: For me, it traces back to the 1990s when it became unavoidable to observe the art scene. It also resonates with my interest in meditation and the science of the mind, making it highly significant for me. Relational art serves as a reminder that we don't necessarily need art. Why should we look at something hanging on a wall when nature, in its ever-transforming beauty, offers the finest art? The trees, the sunlight, everything is already manifesting. Yet, as humans, we require art as a pointer to these natural wonders. That's the idea of relational art if I understand correctly. However, such analytical thinking and vocabulary don't come naturally to me when it comes to creating something novel.
Source: https://www.stirworld.com/inspire-conversations-apichatpong-weerasethakul-on-unveiling-installations-at-the-thailand-biennale