Jay

Mention wine bars in Bangkok and chances are that Sukhumvit – Asok, Thonglor, Ekkamai – comes to mind. It makes sense. This is where many big spenders live, where international cuisine is easy to find and where you’d always expect to find a decent bottle of wine. But for the last three months, I've been living on the other side of the Chao Phraya, in a small, quiet district known as Bang Yi Khan. Despite how delightful it is, remarkably few expats I speak to have ever crossed the river just to have a drink. A few weeks ago, I noticed that Low Ceiling, a brand new wine bar, was taking shape around the corner from my condominium. I naturally became curious. Last week, it opened. Good wine bars are still surprisingly difficult to find in Thailand once you leave the tourist and expat areas. This one looked promising. Sophisticated, even a little classy. I took a seat at the bar, with a few people sitting at the tables behind me. Then I met Film – owner and wine connoisseur – and it didn't take long to realise that he wasn't simply someone who had decided that opening a wine bar might be a good business idea. He really knows wine.  Low Ceiling – Wine BarLow Ceiling – Wine Bar Low Ceiling, high bar I have been drinking wine for most of my adult life. What I like changes with season, temperature and mood. I can enjoy younger reds – a Beaujolais Villages, for instance – but I have a slight preference for whites, particularly Chardonnay from Australia, Chile or California.  I like t

In a dead-end alley, a few minutes' walk from MRT Sam Yan Station, I was welcomed inside by one of BATURU Incubator Space's founders. Walking into the gallery, I was struck by the contrast between the spacious room, its two expansive white walls, and the 24 small portraits of women arranged across them. Next to each portrait was a caption. A few acrylic paintings occupied a smaller section of wall, apart from the portraits. On the floor, slightly off-centre, lay a large pink cocoon-like cushion sculpture. I started down the line of portraits, looking at the women and reading the captions beside them. Then it dawned on me. What I had expected, without being fully aware of it, was an exhibition about the womb itself. But the notes told me a different story. Each of the women approached the subject differently. Where I had assumed I would find a shared relationship with the womb, I found 24 deeply individual ones.   Jay WPhotograph: Jay W   Gerda Liebmann drew her inspiration from an unexpected life event. When her adult son died, she experienced grief physically – in her womb. She later described it as feeling desolated, barren and torn apart. Her own acrylic paintings in the exhibition explore that territory of creation and loss.  Until then she had not given her womb much thought, outside of her pregnancies. It made her wonder whether other women have similar experiences and how women in general relate to their wombs. This curiosity made her invite women to work with her. 2