The new graffiti on the walls along the recently facelifted Klong Ong Ang became the talk of the town so I decided not to miss out on it. City Hall wrapped up the artwork just in time for the recent Loy Kratong festivities.
After a walk through the area, I have to say, I was a bit disappointed because my plan to take selfies with a graffito of our governor had been thwarted. I was told the governor's image had been erased, shortly after it was finished. According to an official, some were afraid the graffitied image of of Pol Gen Aswin Kwanmuang could backfire as it would give the impression he was promoting himself. So it was replaced with other images which, in my view, still closely resembled the governor and one of his deputies.
I walked through the festival ground, taking a look at all the graffiti painted or sprayed on the back of buildings along the canal. The content of the graffiti could be divided into two themes. The first alluded to the devotion of City Hall's hardworking team that keeps the capital clean and in order. The other harked back to the good old days of a slow city life, when rickshaws and paddle boats travelled into bygone neighbourhoods.
I agree that the area has changed completely, from the once-illegal market into an open public space for local residents.
Many have praised the newly revamped area as beautiful, clean and orderly. Some even compared it to picturesque Amsterdam. I couldn't agree more that the area has become neat, clean and in order. After having been illegally covered by the semi-permanent Saphan Lek Market for over two decades, the canal is clean, with clear water and a neatly paved walkway.
But I'm not sure if City Hall has expended too much effort in on the wrong things. After my walk, I couldn't help but realise that the area, which is about a quarter of the whole canal's size, seemed only to showcase a fake lifestyle and livelihoods. The section had been built too perfectly, and on a walk further out of the designated festival ground, I encountered a bumpy and messy canal-side walkway.
Graffiti is seen as either vandalism or freedom of expression. But the graffiti at Klong Ong Ang is neither. A wall painted or sprayed by a street artist, (or artists in the case of Ong Ang canal), commissioned by the state to promote its work and the city's disappearing history, doesn't make it street art.
The graffiti at Klong Ong Ang reminded me of how City Hall has always intended to turn Bangkok into a kind of Disneyland -- a city with standardised beauty and order, making it easier for the state to govern.
Just before the festival, deputy governor Sakchai Boonma, who turned the lush-green centuries-old Mahakan Fort community into an empty lawn in 2018, toyed with the idea of improving the area once more after the park idea failed.
He said the upcoming manicured lawn would feature -- like other public parks, namely Lumpini Park or Suan Loy Fah Chao Phraya in Bangkok -- musical programmes and a new project that is to feature the long-gone history and stories of the capital: a set of model forts, mimicking the 12 old structures at Mahakan Fort that were demolished.
The models, to be made of concrete and to stand one or two-metres high, would be placed around the five-rai Mahakan Park plot. With this idea, the deputy governor expects the park to become an "edu-recreational" space where local residents can exercise and learn about this part of Bangkok's history.
Yes, we could learn from the miniature forts to remind us of the disappeared structures that once stood there, built during the early Rattanakosin period, that were, against the wishes of conservationists, just thoughtlessly demolished. What was the point of erasing a centuries-old community -- to replace it with a living museum under the dictates of City Hall? The city's history was already there, but then it was knocked down. Why are we made to learn a history that's solely dictated by the authorities? The authorities have acted as if this city were built only by nobles, without the people.
In its failed Mahakan Park project, City Hall chose to erase a centuries-old community, known to be the last in the old town area, tearing down wooden houses and felling big trees, despite resistance by the community, only to end up with an open museum with fake structures.