SHADOWS ON THE WALL
Lending subtle poetry to when a country mourned a king
As we look at the photograph, our own shadows creep up onto the wall as if our souls are leaving our physical bodies
Stepping through a pair of curtains at the entrance of Kathmandu Photo Gallery, viewers are transported back in time. On the left of the gallery walls are 13 black-and-white photographs, depicting iconic scenes from late 2016, when citizens took pilgrimage to perform rituals of grief in front of the white walls of the Grand Palace where King Bhumibol Adulyadej’s body lay in state inside.
Dubbing his exhibition of photographs about the vigil “The White Wall”, 30-year-old photographer Chakrit Leelachupong captured the raw emotions of people cloaked in darkness and sorrow. Their eyes are black, empty and seemingly soulless. Their shadows are eerily projected onto the white walls of the Grand Palace, akin to troubled souls wanting to cross over to the other side. Arrested by these powerful images, Chakrit decided to simulate this environment inside Kathmandu Photo Gallery itself. On the opposite wall, two blinding spotlights shine up on a white wall on which hangs a single black-and-white photograph — a family portrait of the royal family placed on a bed of flowers. As we look at the photograph, our own shadows creep up onto the wall as if our souls are leaving our physical bodies.
“I wanted to take photographs during an historic moment in Thailand,” said Chakrit. “It’s an extremely rare moment in Thailand when so many people come out to do this for someone. I tried to find an angle that was different than other people’s, and I just happened to luckily find the white walls of the palace. I saw the shadows reflected onto the walls in such a strange way.”
For weeks upon weeks, Chakrit walked six to seven hours every night to capture the sombre moments when people’s spirits seem to be lifted away from their bodies. Showcasing his portfolio to curator Manit Sriwanichpoom at this year’s PhotoBangkok festival, they decided to work together to condense the set to 13 photographs — symbolising the day King Bhumibol passed, as well as the number which can symbolise both luck and death.
“The wall, for me, is a dividing line between the living and the dead,” he said. “[It’s] my extremely personal view of the situation, where I saw people paying respect to their king at that place. But for me, the shadows are very strange. It’s like something that creates a link between the person in front of the palace walls and the person behind those walls. My photographs are personal, but don’t show the Thai people’s love [for the king] directly. There are other messages in there [as well]. If we don’t know anything about this wall or about the events [during] which he passed away, you’re able to interpret the pictures in a completely different way from what I took.”