Different interpretations of the Monkey King fly over Tiananmen Square; an assortment of Snoopy toys group together outside Hua Lamphong Station; and a Garfield Maneki-neko waves over the Statue Of Liberty. This mix of realistic paintings, cartoon illustrations, and pixelated backgrounds are the paintings of Thai fine artist Phattarakorn Jirawarin.
Jirawarin likes to play with contrast, portraying hyperrealistic pictures of childhood toys, 8-bit landscapes and objects, and iconic scenes from around the world. He uses instantly recognizable characters from Japan and the US, postcard locations, and brilliant colors to embrace the joys of nostalgia while also broaching contemporary issues.
One painting portrays a waving Garfield floating in the heavens with an OG Super Mario Bros coin, presiding over the skyline of Manhattan and Lady Liberty—often projected as the land of opportunity. Below them are other cat characters like Doraemon who cry exaggeratedly as they attempt to build their own structures amid piles of candy coins. Is this a realistic goal? Are they being lied to by propagandists? Who can really say? But it’s certainly fun to look at.
Others are a bit more straightforward, like a school locker full of dreams and joys. A Star Wars poster is taped to the wall next to Peanuts comics and a Van Gogh picture book alongside Toy Story figurines, a balloon animal, and a lunch box. It’s a pretty wholesome scene, reminiscent of his own locker of many years ago but updated. Many of his paintings are simple fun like this.
Then there are the Monkey Kings, all drawn from different interpretations and painted in various styles. There’s the classic Hindu Hanuman; a toy version from Ramayana inspiration; a cartoon version from a Thai cartoon based on an Indian one; and then, of course, there’s Dragon Ball’s Son Goku. (Yes, Goku is based on the Monkey King, too!) All of them float around that heavily-censored Chinese landmark. Although he’s Thai-Chinese himself, Jirawarin is questioning the wisdom of increasing Chinese influence in Thailand.
As joyful as Jirawarin’s paintings are, he’s not afraid to dive deep into misfortune. One painting juxtaposes the comical face of Shin-chan, portrayed as an idol, and a sunset scene from an old school racing game alongside a disheveled old man with someone praying to his feet. It’s a comment on false prophets who encourage followers to engage in deadly rituals while maintaining it’s good for their health.
Jirawarin’s work uses these fun and familiar images to capture viewers’ attention and draw them in close. The surprising balance of ideas and styles makes for a deeper appreciation until his subtle messages become more clear. They’re not statements as often as they are questions, allowing us to chew them over as we walk away, giving the paintings a staying power—a challenging feat in these days of endless feeds and distractions.