Studio journal
PHUKET BIENNALE 2025–2026 — WHEN AN ISLAND BECAME A MUSEUM
For six months, Phuket ceased to be merely an island destination and became an open-air museum. Abandoned schools, forgotten civic buildings, public parks and historic streets were transformed into places where contemporary art could be encountered in unexpected ways. The Thailand Biennale invited visitors not only to look at art, but to wander through it.
The Thailand Biennale Phuket 2025–2026 unfolded across the island from November 2025 until April 2026, bringing together artists from around the world in an ambitious exhibition that extended far beyond the walls of traditional museums.
Rather than confining art to pristine white galleries, the Biennale embraced Phuket itself as its exhibition space. Vacant schools, heritage houses, old industrial buildings and public parks became temporary homes for installations, sculptures and performances. Every venue carried its own history, and those histories became part of the artworks themselves.
Moving from one location to another felt less like visiting an exhibition and more like discovering an island through art. A monumental sculpture would suddenly appear beside the sea. An abandoned building would reveal an intimate installation hidden within its worn walls. Art and place became inseparable.
Many of the works explored themes of memory, ecology, migration and the relationship between humanity and nature. Others drew upon mythology and local traditions while speaking in a distinctly contemporary language. Together they formed an exhibition that was both deeply rooted in Phuket and remarkably international in spirit.
What remained most memorable was the generosity of the Biennale’s approach. Art was not presented as something distant or exclusive, but as something capable of inhabiting everyday places and temporarily transforming the way they are experienced.
Like every meaningful journey, this one also left behind a few small traces.
On a visitors’ wall, Bugsy quietly made an appearance. Elsewhere, a drawing titled Small Faces found its place among the messages of other visitors, and at another location a small symbol, a sprout that echoes the dragonfly emblem found on the reverse of my paintings, was left behind as a silent greeting.
Nothing official. Nothing announced.
Simply small gestures of gratitude from one artist to the places that inspired him.
A special word of appreciation belongs to the organisation of the Thailand Biennale and to the many hosts and hostesses who welcomed visitors throughout the island. Their friendliness, professionalism and willingness to share their knowledge made every location feel inviting. The time they took to answer questions and engage in conversation became an essential part of the experience itself.
Long after the Biennale closed its doors, the memory that remained was not only that of remarkable artworks, but of an island that, for a brief period of time, became a living museum and reminded every visitor that art can exist anywhere, along the coastline, inside forgotten buildings, and sometimes in the smallest traces left behind.
