Arrested for insurrection for defending their homeland, chained in pairs, the beaten men stare back unflinching at their oppressor’s camera lens, elevating these mug-shots of political prisoners from 1902 into something noble and impossible to ignore. Surely a totem image for our time, thought photo- artist Manit Sriwanichpoom when he discovered these enigmatic black and white portraits one day at the National Archive. By reproducing the images through an old photographic process from 1851, of wet-collodion on 8” x 10” black glass plates, Manit took the digital files of these Ngiow (Tai Yai) warriors back to their time, allowing us to view the men with a sense of awe and respect. They do not appear like terrorist killers of Siamese soldiers and bureaucrats who had come to take away their power and their rights. Driven to help them tell their untold story and their reasons for resisting Siamese hegemony, Manit was inspired to create an installation of the men as skeletons in the cupboard of Siamese history.
Arrested for insurrection for defending their homeland, chained in pairs, the beaten men stare back unflinching at their oppressor’s camera lens, elevating these mug-shots of political prisoners from 1902 into something noble and impossible to ignore. Surely a totem image for our time, thought photo- artist Manit Sriwanichpoom when he discovered these enigmatic black and white portraits one day at the National Archive. By reproducing the images through an old photographic process from 1851, of wet-collodion on 8” x 10” black glass plates, Manit took the digital files of these Ngiow (Tai Yai) warriors back to their time, allowing us to view the men with a sense of awe and respect. They do not appear like terrorist killers of Siamese soldiers and bureaucrats who had come to take away their power and their rights. Driven to help them tell their untold story and their reasons for resisting Siamese hegemony, Manit was inspired to create an installation of the men as skeletons in the cupboard of Siamese history.