National Artist Kwanjit Sriprajan is an enigma onstage and off. At 66, she quick-fires volleys of sharp wit during performances, but as she applies her make-up while giving a short interview, she very much looks and sounds like a kind grandma, with a sweet, slow cadence to her voice.
National Artist Kwanjit Sriprajan performs.
Kwanjit has contributed to Thai roots music for almost her entire life. She is revered for her role in popularising choi and e-saew music, spitfire lyrical battles of the sexes minimally accompanied by Thai instruments from the country’s central region, as well as her marks on luk thung.
Kwanjit’s rhythms are influenced of National Artist Buapan Chandsri, while her argumentative lyricism is of legendary status.
These days, Kwanjit and her troupe, which includes her daughter, perform regularly. She also devotes time to imparting her roots music knowledge to academic institutions and interested parties.
Life caught up with the grand dame when she performed at ZudRangMa Records’ “5th Paradise Bangkok Anniversary” party.
How have you been doing?
I am doing quite well. My health is as good as it can be for a person my age. I am not so young anymore, so I’m not as strong as I used to be. I can’t be young forever, but I maintain my health as well as I can. I also pay a lot of attention to my mental health. I try not to worry about things so my work won’t be affected.
Work is steady, especially during holiday seasons like Songkran.
Choi and e saew often deal with current affairs and politics. How do you go about this?
I think it’s up to you what kind of stories you want to tell. Personally, I am interested in current affairs, so I infuse them in my verses. It all boils down to wit and how you want to play it. You also have to read your crowd. That’s very important. You know where the toughest crowd is for me? My home town in Suphan Buri. I don’t know why, maybe they’re just really used to me.
Your lyrical battles are noted for their humour — are you a funny person offstage?
I’ve never been proper. I’ve always been a fun-loving type. My relatives were disappointed because I didn’t act the way women were expected to act, but my parents were okay with it. They understood how I had to make a living.
We weren’t a rich family. We did everything we could to put food on the table — I didn’t have time to be proper; I did what I needed to do. Back then girls were expected to act a certain way; it was different.
Did you come from a musical family?
I think my father did it for fun, but he was casual about it. Back in the day, it was our way of life to sing, to celebrate. Even when we farmed, we sang.
How do you feel about roots music being seen as a revered art form?
I am very happy about that. When I began performing, it was almost a lost art, but masters wanted to preserve it. One of them, [master Sawai Wongngam], came to my mother and asked to train my sister. I followed her and secretly learned everything. I was curious about everything, so I asked a lot of questions.
I started having fun. I was like my sister’s keeper, making sure she was OK. One day, she was so tired from all the travelling that she couldn’t wake up, so they asked me to try. I did and they started to take me along to perform instead of my sister.
How was your transition from choi and e saew to luk thung?
I just thought about how I would be able to make a better living. It wasn’t a hard transition. When I was doing strictly traditional music, I incorporated fractions of luk thung music and the crowd always loved it.
There seems to be a renewed interest in roots music from the hip generation and foreigners. What is your take on that?
Yes, I’ve noticed a new interest in traditional music. It’s a good thing. I’ve taught many in my lifetime and I hope the traditions can continue. We can’t always be stuck in the old ways or we won’t be able to communicate with the younger generations.
When are you happiest onstage?
When I perform at my best and my troupe delivers the best performance they can. Sometimes I get disappointed with the kids when they can’t banter very well or if they misunderstand the direction I want to take onstage.
Is there anything you’d like to accomplish that you haven’t yet?
I want to create an archive of musical patterns for roots music accompanied by a Western note scheme. I want these patterns recorded, classified and catalogued.
I don’t know everything, but I think I know a bit more than a lot of people and I want future generations to know about our art form.
