Thaweesak Srithongdee takes a dim view of youth’s transition in his latest solo show, ‘Strawberry’.

Forget the strawberry's sweet and luscious virtues. The title of Thaweesak Srithongdee's new show of paintings at Bangkok's J Gallery has more to do with the strawberry's quickness to rot. And in that he sees a metaphor for teenagers.

Strawberry shapes, formed with Thaweesak's usual ornate weavings, engulf young boys and girls who are innocent despite their alert, steady gazes. Many are bandaged, though at times the patch-ups could be fashionable leggings too. Or is it the clothing of the future?

"Young people have always been victimised," he says. "Marketing strategies are now targeted mainly at teenagers and pre-teens, encouraging a voracious appetite for everything from mobile phones and beauty products to clothes. I think it's unfair."

The 38-year-old speaks out on teens' behalf in 39 acrylic and watercolour paintings that are half black-and-white drawings. His pop style has become familiar in the magazines Image, Volume and Preaw, and he admits a fondness for Andy Warhol as well as Renaissance classics, but his bowl-of-noodles cages that entangle the kids are pure rococo.

As to the predominant shape of the stringy traps, he explains: "I don't eat strawberries as much as bananas and guava, so I'm not familiar with their specific attributes - I just know that they rot easily. They're like teenagers, whose perspective I'm trying to understand."

One painting has a boy with golden curls and a fluttering scarf who's reminiscent of Antoine de Saint-Exupery's Little Prince, but he's holding a gun in one hand. Thaweesak could be evoking that classic children's tale's views of man's follies and the simple truths we forget as we grow older.

Another painting's character is wearing a Nazi officer's cap, and still another shows off Che Guevara's portrait. In both cases the female figures pose somewhat seductively.

Thaweesak, a guest lecturer on illustration at Bangkok University, has a 12-year-old nephew, and he's worried about the kind of world that's opening up to him.

"He and his friends have their own way of communicating in symbols, and they're into all sorts of technology. They don't listen to [pop-music duo] Golf & Mike anymore - they opt for Retrospect, or anything indie.

"It's quite challenging for parents to become gatekeepers and prevent them from straying out of line."

Viewers might have a challenge too with his 20-minute animated video. Footage of innocent youngsters is interspersed with horrific images of war victims, evil figures like Hitler, Saddam Hussein and Osama Bin Laden and unappealing celebrity role models such as Kurt Cobain, Paris Hilton and Britney Spears.

"Some people become addicted to heroin or commit suicide in the belief that there is no solution to their problems," Thaweesak explains, "but their personal problems can't be compared to the suffering in war zones."

The new collection stems from his  "Hero" series displayed at the Fukuoka Asian Art Triennale in 2005. The war in Iraq had stirred him up about the nature of hero worship, and he's since devoured books on Hitler and Mussolini and visited a Holocaust memorial in the US.

In Japan he created a shrine to heroes by inviting viewers to place portrait stickers on the walls - depictions, he said, of "the little creatures of the universe. I wonder why some people seize power and try to change the world for their own benefit."

Thaweesak's new watercolours of teenagers - innocent except for their military uniforms - are meant to recall the wall of pictures of war victims he saw at the Holocaust memorial.

Four female portraits in circular frames were inspired by old pictures of soldiers that he'd seen in friends' homes, "hanging on the wall in honour of their bravery on the battlefield".

"Strawberry", at the J Gallery on fourth floor of J Avenue on Soi Thonglor 15, continues until Monday, daily from 1 to 9. Visit JgalleryBangkok.com or LolayStrawberry.exteen.com. On Saturday at 5pm Thaweesak will give a talk and present 10 videos he's created since 2001.

Khetsirin Pholdhampalit

The Nation