What do a four-story ruin, located in one of Bangkok’s most vibrant neighborhoods, and a forest about 200 km from the city center have in common? Both are at the heart of South Korean art collector and patron Marisa Chearavanont’s ambitious project to transform Thailand into a contemporary art hub in Southeast Asia. In 2023, Chearavanont launched the Khao Yai project, a cultural initiative that now includes Bangkok’s Kunsthalle and the Forest. 

To bring the project to life, she entrusted the artistic direction to Stefano Rabolli Pansera—an artist and curator of international projects, recipient of the Golden Lion for the Angola Pavilion at the 2013 Venice Biennale, and founder of the St. Moritz Art Film Festival.

The recent opening of the Forest, in February 2025, has drawn international attention, especially due to the presence of renowned artists such as Louise Bourgeois, Fujiko Nakaya, and Elmgreen & Dragset. However, behind the creation of the Forest lies the development of another cultural hub in the heart of Bangkok. “Without the Kunsthalle, the Forest would never have existed. That’s why it’s so important to see them as two sides of a coin, but expressed in completely different ways,” Pansera explains to Domus. He recalls moving to Bangkok two years ago to embark on this bold curatorial project.  

“Both initiatives are based on the concept of healing, of care and caretaking,” Pansera states, emphasizing an approach that, as a pun, makes the act of caring for a place the very essence of the curatorial project itself. 

Located in Bangkok’s Yaowarat district (Chinatown), the building is what Pansera describes as “a beautiful expression of industrial archaeology.” Originally a printing house—divided into three buildings that have since been unified—it was severely damaged by a fire in 2001 and remained abandoned for 23 years. In 2023, Chearavanont and Pansera transformed it into the new Bangkok Kunsthalle, embracing a radical curatorial approach. 

Stefano Rabolli Pansera

Artistic activity began immediately, without renovations or aesthetic modifications. In fact, Pansera’s approach uses artworks and installations within the museum space to reconstruct the building. “Instead of imposing a top-down vision through restoration, the idea is to tame the space and reclaim it floor by floor,” the curator explains. Thus, starting with Michael Auder’s exhibition on the first floor in January 2024, the Kunsthalle becomes alive and open to visitors one floor at a time. “Each artist creates an installation that transforms the space while simultaneously adapting to the building’s own identity,” Pansera says. “The raw, almost brutal nature of the space forces artists into solutions that would be impossible in a conventional museum setting, making them active participants in the building’s redefinition”. 

With only primary services and basic infrastructure—such as electricity and ventilation—the rest of the space evolves according to the creativity of the artists. For example, Yoko Ono’s installation introduced a table for eighty people in a room that became a workshop for repairing ceramic fragments. Meanwhile, Thai filmmaker Korakrit Arunanondchai’s video installation prompted the renovation of an entire wing of the building, which was then transformed into a permanent cinema. “It’s a new epistemology of design. This fusion of a curatorial program with an architectural project is the core of our vision,” Pansera explains, emphasizing that “the building is not simply a place where artworks are displayed, but rather the tool the works are shown through in an entirely new way.”

Like Kunsthalle, Khao Yai Forest also has a troubled past. This 65-hectare plot of land was completely devastated by intensive agriculture in the 1970s. “It’s a landscape that has been deeply violated,” says Pansera. “That’s way the theme of ‘healing’ becomes even more important.”

Stefano Rabolli Pansera

When defining this new project, the curator takes a bold stance: “The traditional model of the Land Art park is like a virus. I find it outdated to simply place artworks in nature, just as I find it outdated to call star architects to create something iconic and spectacular. The Khao Yai Art Forest aims to be the complete opposite—at least in its intent.” It may seem contradictory that the Forest features (also) artworks by major artists, including Louise Bourgeois, Fujiko Nakaya, and Elmgreen & Dragset. 

However, Pansera explains that these works do not merely fit into the natural context, they actively interact with it in unexpected and sometimes uncontrollable ways. Take, for example, Fujiko Nakaya’s artificial fog installation. At the slightest gust of wind or the flap of a bird’s wings, its shape continuously changes. Over time, the constant humidity generated by the work will alter the landscape itself, fostering the growth of new plants and flowers, gradually shaping a new ecosystem. Another example is the work of Thai monk Ubatsat, who placed nine fragments of Jedi—the traditional domes of Thai temples—throughout the Forest. The idea is that the earth, through moss and wild plants, will reclaim its space, weaving history back into the land.

Even the world-famous Maman by Bourgeois, a temporary presence in the Forest, takes on a new meaning. “This gigantic spider is usually placed in urban settings,” Pansera notes. “Here, surrounded by the vastness of nature, it seems to shrink back into what it truly is—a small insect in the wild.”

Then, there are those who have taken an entirely opposite and provocative approach. Elmgreen & Dragset, the artistic duo known for their subversive and visually striking works over the past 30 years, have chosen to create the K-Bar—a small, metropolitan-style venue placed in a natural environment. The bar is accessible once a month and is almost entirely hidden from view. 

Elmgreen & Dragset

“The main idea was to create a sense of disorientation, as if an alien object had crash-landed in the middle of the forest,” the artists explain to Domus, drawing a parallel to some of their most famous works: Prada Marfa, a luxury boutique in the middle of the desert, and Van Gogh’s Ear, a swimming pool installed vertically in New York’s Rockefeller Plaza. “Like these, K-Bar transplants something from a logical setting into an entirely new environment.”

It is a work that serves as a stark warning against what should not be done, creating a sharp contrast between human intervention and nature. Yet, by limiting its accessibility, it also denies itself to humans, exposing “the emotional and psychological effects of anticipation and unmet expectations.”

Inside the bar, a painting by German artist Martin Kippenberger, from which the installation takes its name, encapsulates the entire concept. “The sense of displacement is heightened even further,” the artists note, “as so many valuable Southeast Asian artworks and artifacts have ended up in European museums. Here, we’ve done the opposite—placing a unique work by a major German artist in the Thai countryside.”

Coincidentally, the painting happens to depict a hippopotamus—and soon after its acquisition, a baby Thai hippo named Moo Deng went viral on social media. The artists conclude with amusement: “Now it feels like the painting was made for this moment.”

Opening image: Bangkok Kunsthalle. Photo Andrea Rossetti