• Gridthiya Gaweewong on curating, community, and the evolving art landscapes of Asia

For Gridthiya Gaweewong, the path into the art world did not begin in a studio or an art school. Instead, it emerged gradually from a background shaped by literature, language work, and humanitarian engagement along Thailand’s border regions.

“I’m not an artist at all,” she said with a smile when reflecting on the early years of her career. “I studied literature at the Open University in Bangkok. I grew up in northern Thailand, then came to Bangkok for university.”

In the early 1990s, Gaweewong worked in refugee camps along Thailand’s borders, where many residents had arrived in the aftermath of the Vietnam War. 

The camps were administered via United Nations agencies and several international partners, and the work exposed her to complex social realities that would later influence how she approached cultural work.

“At that time I was working more on the language side,” she explained. “But by the early 1990s many of those camps were closing, and I was thinking about what to do next.”

The birth of Project 304

The answer arrived unexpectedly through a chance encounter with the art world. A newly returned graduate from the United Kingdom had opened a gallery in Bangkok and was looking for someone who could communicate with international visitors and artists.

“I joined a commercial gallery in the early 1990s,” Gaweewong recalled. “It was a prime time for Thai contemporary art, when the scene was just beginning to take shape. From 1991 to 1994 I worked closely with many Thai artists.”

Although the experience exposed her to a vibrant network of emerging artists, she soon realised that the commercial nature of gallery work did not suit her.

“I loved working with artists and with art,” she said. “But I hated selling. And I missed the kind of social engagement I had experienced when I worked in the refugee camps.”

A turning point came during a visit to New York, where she spent days wandering through museums and thinking about what an art space in Thailand might look like.

“I remember walking around those museums and thinking, I want to have this kind of space in Thailand,” she said. “So I spoke to people I respected in the art world, and they told me I should study and become a curator.”

At the time, curating was still a relatively new concept across much of Asia. Artists often organised exhibitions themselves, and the idea of a curator working conceptually with artists and institutions was only beginning to take hold.

Gaweewong decided to pursue further studies at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago, where she completed a Master’s Degree in Visual Arts Administration and Policy. Her thesis explored the possibility of establishing a non profit art space in Thailand.

“The future in Thailand at that time did not really have experimental museum spaces,” she explained. 

“My thesis was a feasibility study for establishing a non profit art space in Thailand. We didn’t have the infrastructure like the United States or Europe, so I wanted to understand how to build something without that infrastructure.”

Building an alternative art space

When she returned to Bangkok in 1996, she decided not to wait for institutional support. Instead, she transformed her own apartment into a small experimental gallery. The project became known as Project 304.

“My apartment was about 65 square metres,” she said. “When I came back I spoke with artists I already knew and shared my proposal. I wanted to build a community.”

Working with collaborators from both Thailand and abroad, Project 304 became a platform that encouraged artists to experiment with new forms and ideas.

“We always encouraged younger artists or those doing something different,” Gaweewong explained. “We trained them to write proposals and to develop a conceptual framework for their work. Many had never done that before.”

The mid 1990s were a moment of transformation for the Thai art scene. New media such as video installation and performance art were beginning to appear, and spaces like Project 304 helped introduce these practices to a wider audience.

“If an artist wanted to do a video installation, we supported them,” she said. “At that time it was very fresh for Thailand.”

Despite its modest scale, the space quickly attracted attention from artists, curators, and researchers interested in Southeast Asia.

“In the late 1990s people were looking at Thailand and Southeast Asia more closely,” Gaweewong recalled. “I had visitors almost every day.”

The project also emerged during a turbulent period marked by the Asian financial crisis and political changes across the region. For Gaweewong, such moments often catalyse creative shifts.

“Every time our country or our region goes through a political or economic crisis, art changes direction,” she said. “The art scene in Thailand has transformed radically since the 1990s.”

Project 304 would later become recognised as one of the early alternative art spaces in Southeast Asia. Its archive is now preserved at the Asia Art Archive, reflecting its influence on the region’s evolving contemporary art networks.

Interpreting the Jim Thompson legacy

In the years that followed, Gaweewong continued working internationally as an independent curator before eventually becoming the Artistic Director at the Jim Thompson Art Center in Bangkok.

The centre forms part of the legacy of Jim Thompson, the American architect and entrepreneur who helped revive Thailand’s silk industry after the Second World War. Thompson assembled his famous Bangkok residence by relocating and reconstructing several traditional Thai wooden houses.

“The Jim Thompson House is a Thai house interpreted by Jim Thompson,” Gaweewong explained. “It follows traditional forms but also includes things that traditional Thai houses didn’t have, like living rooms and studies.”

Beyond architecture, Thompson was also an avid collector of Southeast Asian art, gathering paintings, Buddhist sculptures, and ceramics from across the region.

“His collection is very interesting because it shows how he saw Southeast Asian culture,” she said.

Thompson himself disappeared mysteriously in Malaysia in 1967, a story that continues to fascinate visitors and historians alike.

For Gaweewong, working with the foundation that preserves his legacy has also opened new conversations about history, culture, and the changing role of art institutions.

“We try to connect with Jim Thompson from different angles,” she said. “Not only the architecture but also the context he came from – Thailand during the Cold War – and what his work meant for culture and society.”

Across Sri Lanka and Southeast Asia

During her visit to Colombo, organised in collaboration with the Geoffrey Bawa Trust and the Royal Thai Embassy, Gaweewong found herself reflecting on unexpected parallels between Thai and Sri Lankan cultural histories.

She first encountered Bawa’s work through an artist friend from Japan who had spent time in Sri Lanka.

“When I saw Geoffrey Bawa’s work I thought, I have seen this kind of space before,” she said. “Across Southeast Asia, in Indonesia and Malaysia, there are many spaces that feel similar.”

Both Bawa and Thompson, she believes, engaged deeply with the relationship between architecture, landscape, and cultural identity.

“Bawa is more hybrid, shaped by Sri Lanka’s context,” she said. “Thompson was completely American, but he became deeply involved with Thai culture.”

There are also older connections between the two countries that extend beyond architecture. In northern Thailand, Gaweewong notes, a monastic tradition known as Lankawong traces its lineage to Sri Lanka.

“Centuries ago monks travelled from Thailand to Sri Lanka and back again,” she said. “Those connections still exist in cultural memory.”

Although she admits that she is still learning about Sri Lanka’s contemporary art scene, her first impressions have been encouraging.

“I know a few Sri Lankan artists from the 1990s,” she said. “But I was very surprised to see some of the younger artists and photographers here.” 

For Gaweewong, the shifting global art landscape offers new opportunities for regions such as South Asia and Southeast Asia to contribute to international conversations.

“Art discourse has changed a lot from the 1990s to the 2000s and now,” she said. “Today there is more attention to voices that were previously marginalised. This is a moment when many new perspectives can emerge.”