Banjerd Lekkong, who grew up in his father's garage and whose intricate iron-welded sculptures are being exhibited in a New York gallery, is an outlier among Thai artists. The 47-year-old did not graduate from any art school -- neither Poh Chang or Silpakorn University, the most respected training grounds for local artists. His works have never been displayed in a local museum or gallery. Bangkok Art and Cultural Centre (BACC) turned down his proposal for an exhibition. Private galleries did the same. The only show he had was a brief display at Amarin Plaza, a shopping mall.
"My pieces are perceived as metal robots, like models sold at Chatuchak Market," Banjerd says gingerly. "I was told to join the artists' network in order to have my work displayed. But what can I do if I don't have artist friends? I didn't go to art school. Without connections, I realised I might not be able to achieve much. So I started sending my portfolio to overseas art galleries."
All those rejections may come from the fact that Banjerd's highly detailed figurative sculptures, all of them depicting characters from ancient-Hindu Ramayana, feel slightly dated and out of touch with the modern art market, which values conceptual works -- more obscure and harder to explain.
"Artists from Silpakorn University told me that if I want to salvage my career, I must pay less attention to detail and make my work look modern," says Banjerd.
A maestro of iron welding, Banjerd Lekkong turns scrap metal and iron bars into works of art.
Of course he didn't listen.
After a decade in the dark, Banjerd has his vindication. Agora Gallery in New York City last year decided to represent him, and Banjerd's first solo exhibition, titled "Metamorphosis", ended at the gallery in Chelsea on June 9. Luck is now on his side. After getting an agent, Banjerd also got his first financial patronage, from Singha Corp, who sponsored the exhibition as well as the media trip. Banjerd is the first artist to receive sponsorship from the Singha Park Chiang Rai & Social Enterprise, a CSR providing assistance to socially conscious projects, including creative works. His Thai-style sculptures and never-surrender attitude impressed the committee.
Figurative iron-welded sculptures exhibited in "Metamorphosis".
Beaming with pride for his Big Apple debut, Banjerd still maintains the homely air of a man who doesn't belong to the art circle. He still prefers to call himself an iron welder rather than an artist.
The son of a garage owner in Nakhon Ratchasima, he grew up opposite a national museum where sculptures of Ramayana characters were displayed on the lawn. His home was near the splendid gate of Pimai sandstone palace, and this environment helped shape his childhood sensibility.
One early toy was an welding tool that he found while helping his father in the garage. The boy started making his first iron model, a soccer goal, when only 10. His expertise in welding grew more and more exceptional -- today, Banjerd can tell whether metal scraps are pieced together just by listening to the noise of an welding machine.
"I never thought I would want to be an artist -- creating models from iron is second nature."
He studied architecture at Rajamangala University of Technology Isan, and worked as an interior designer for restaurant projects in the Pattaya area. He quit his job 13 years ago to dedicate his time to making art from welding. His pieces show the suppleness of the material, and the shapes -- mythical monkeys, multi-limbed ogres, elephants' heads -- he created from pipes, screws, bolts, discs, rings, wires and rust-tinted scrap have a mysterious aura that compels you to focus on the details.
The appeal of Banjerd's work can be appreciated up close, where you can see the welded metals coalesce beautifully. From afar, his sculptures appear like life-size superhero models. But in close-up, they reveal various sizes and shapes of industrial metals fused together seamlessly. Always on a shoestring budget, the artist has relied only on scrap metal and iron from garages and factories. For this exhibition, he used metal and iron that a Japanese manager of a car plant gave him for free.
Figurative iron-welded sculptures exhibited in "Metamorphosis".
For fans of modern and abstract art, Banjerd's work is old-fashioned; they're all skill and not much idea. But in fact, his pieces boast a minute uniqueness that relies on masterful welding craftsmanship.
"His works are unique. Those iron-welded sculptures might look complicated in pattern yet simplistic in line, and so symmetrically balanced in shape. Perhaps his background in architecture helps him achieve that symmetrical balance," Angella Di Bello, director of Agora Gallery, says in explaining why she decided to represent him as art trader.
There are narratives and expressiveness in these works, symbols from ancient mythology, she says. For example, Di Bello interprets the 11 shapes of small Hanuman figures as an expression of agitation, which gradually unite into the shape of a three-headed elephant, a representation of peace and unity. That, she says, may be a message about Thailand as well.
Banjerd is planning his next collection, which will be a series of gigantic sculptures of khon dance masks. He's aiming real big this time: the size of the sculpture will go up to 4m, and the pieces will require a large public space to install.
Asked if he would consider creating a modern work, something that plays with form rather than content -- perhaps twisting his Hanuman sculptures into something unrecognisable -- Banjerd says he prefers to make traditional art because it reflects his imagination.
"Perhaps I just want to prove that you don't have to conform to other ideas. Thai artists do not have to change their style, or modernise in order to appeal to the overseas market. As an artist, I just believe we have to be ourselves and be true to our style."
