What happens when two decades of fragmented memories, political tension and home-recorded chaos are stitched back together, frame by frame? In I a Pixel, We the People, Chulayarnnon Siriphol turns twenty years of video work into a flickering constellation of resistance, memory and quiet revolt. Spanning 24 episodes, the project is equal parts retrospective and reinvention: home footage in faded hues, VHS ghosts, government archives, handheld fictions – all reassembled into a fragmented narrative that feels both intimate and unspeakably vast.
Screened at Bangkok CityCity Gallery in six weekly instalments, April 26-Jun 21 (Wednesday to Saturday, 1pm-6pm), the work is not so much an exhibition as it is an unfolding. Each week brings a new season – four episodes at a time – demanding that the viewer return, absorb, connect the fragments and confront what it means to remember.
In this 24-episode sprawl, what emerges is not a single, coherent picture but a mosaic stitched from what might otherwise be discarded. Siriphol’s work suggests that if even one flicker were missing, the whole structure might collapse. It’s a quiet rebellion against the dominant version of events – one that says the overlooked matters. That silence isn’t absence. That the footnotes might actually be the main text.
But the videos are only part of the story. The exhibition itself spills over into a dense installation, where mountains of household objects – hoarded over decades – rise like ruins inside the gallery. These aren’t props or stage design; they’re artefacts. The space becomes something closer to an archaeological site, where memory clings not only to images but to material remains. Each object hums with its own history, blurring the line between clutter and cultural record, detritus and documentation.
I a Pixel, We the People doesn’t promise clarity. It’s not interested in delivering resolution or revolution on demand. Instead, it insists on the long view: a pixel at a time, a story pieced together from scraps. Stay six weeks if you want the whole picture. Or don’t. Either way, it leaves something behind – flickering, unfinished, still mutating.