Twenty-Three Years Later: Reconnecting Through Printmaking in Chiang Mai
In 2003, I was studying Fine Art at the College of Fine Arts (COFA) in Sydney. It was an exciting time, surrounded by people who had travelled from all over the world to study art. We were all finding our feet creatively, experimenting with different approaches and working out what kind of artists we might become. Among those people were some wonderful friends. Although we eventually returned to different parts of the world and followed our own paths, we stayed in touch. One of those friends was Kitikong, a Thai printmaker who now lives and works in Chiang Mai and another Freedom from Sydney.
Over the years, we'd often talked about meeting up again. It was one of those ideas that was always there in the background: something we'd love to do one day, but never quite managed to organise. Eventually, we tentatively suggested meeting in Thailand, a convenient halfway point for those of us travelling from Australia and elsewhere. Only three of us could make it, but we decided that was no reason not to go ahead. And so, twenty-three years after meeting at university, we found ourselves together again in Chiang Mai.
Finding our way back to printmaking
Reuniting after so many years was special in itself. We'd all lived different lives since our university days, with new experiences, work, relationships and creative journeys. Yet there was still that shared connection from the time we'd spent studying art together. For me, it was particularly exciting to see Kitikong in his home town. He's an established printmaker with deep connections to the local printmaking scene, and he generously took us around Chiang Mai, introducing us to the city's printmaking community. We visited workshops and galleries, met people and saw different approaches to printmaking. Everywhere we went, there seemed to be another artist, another space or another opportunity to discover something new. I was struck by how vibrant the printmaking community was. It wasn't simply about individual artists working away in their own studios. There was a sense of connection, shared knowledge and possibility. Seeing this through Kitikong's eyes made the experience even more special. He knew so many people and places, and we were able to see a side of Chiang Mai that we might never have discovered on our own.
During our visit, Kitikong was in the middle of moving into a new building that he'd renovated to become the studio, gallery and workshop space. It was exciting to see this new chapter taking shape. The space represented possibilities for making work, sharing techniques and bringing artists together. He also generously offered us both the opportunity to return for an artist-in-residence experience, spending time in the studio and becoming absorbed in the process of making. It's an invitation I've kept in the back of my mind. Perhaps in a couple of years, I'll find a way to make it happen. For now, it's an exciting possibility rather than a definite plan, but even having that opportunity to consider feels significant.
Travel has always given me things to think about creatively. I'm drawn to the details people might walk past: textures, marks, layers, street art and the traces that places and people leave behind. I continued to travel Thailand for another 2 weeks, visiting the vibrant city of Bangkok, the very relaxing Koh Lanta and finally Ao Nang.
It's easy to become absorbed in your own practice, working through ideas and techniques in the space and time available to you. Spending time with other printmakers reminds you that there are so many different ways to approach the same medium, and so much to learn from seeing how other people work. It also brought me back to the people and experiences that helped shape my artistic journey in the first place. When we met at university in 2003, none of us could have known where our lives would take us. Twenty-three years later, printmaking was still something that connected us, despite the distance and everything that had happened in between.
That feels pretty special.
I'm not sure yet where this experience will lead creatively, or whether I'll make it back to Chiang Mai for a residency. But the possibility is there, and I'm excited to see what might come of it. Sometimes a trip doesn't need to result in a finished body of work or a clear plan for what comes next. Sometimes it's enough to reconnect with people, discover new possibilities and come home feeling inspired. And occasionally, it reminds you that a door you thought you'd left behind is still open. For now, I'm holding onto that feeling of possibility—and the idea that one day I might return to Chiang Mai, spend time in the studio, and see where the process takes me.
