Cultural resistance in focus: Photographing Thailand's freedom fighters

The Southern Thai province of Pattani is warm in every possible way: a dreamy quality to its streets and buildings and an air of community suffuses even the most minor interactions. Food stalls serve customers sitting at red plastic tables crowding five-foot ways, with proprietors switching effortlessly between Thai and Kelantan-Pattani Malay, a distinct sub-dialect of Malay. Shop signs are in several languages, an indicator of its diversity: the majority of the population is Muslim, and the rest Buddhist – the opposite of most of Thailand, where Muslims remain an embattled minority.

In the news, Pattani is often painted as a place of violence, displacement, and conflict. Nationalism and forced cultural assimilation into a blanket definition of “Thai-ness” have seen ongoing armed resistance from the Muslim minority, which has been met with disproportionate force and brutality from the government. 

The government has killed thousands in the insurgency, with a marked escalation in violence after 2001. Foreign governments still urge their citizens to avoid travel to the region, and the government has blocked mobile roaming access for Malaysian SIM cards across certain fractious provinces that share a border with Malaysia. 

The province, along with its neighbours, has endured much. For photographer Ampannee Satoh, documenting the consequences of the suppression is a cause motivated by principles and passion.

Satoh, 41, explores issues of cultural repression in a country that seems to tell its citizens that there is one ‘correct’ way to be Thai. She aims to examine the impact of social unrest and migration in her home province. Born and raised in Pattani, Satoh’s work is vivid but ethereal: wind, sun, and structure are loud whispers suffusing her work, the backdrop for figures that speak volumes in just a tilt of the head or curve of the spine.

In 2014, she created the series Lost Motherland in response to the violence resulting from the insurgency. This series was exhibited twice in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, most recently in 2018.

Satoh’s cultural fuel comes from her homeland and her time in France, where she studied photography at L’École Nationale Supérieure de la Photographie. While in France, she conceptualised and produced another series, Burqa, exhibited in 2011. The project was inspired by the life of contemporary Muslim women in countries like France, which at the time banned full-face veils in public.

In the series, the photographer uses the camera’s delay timer to capture herself in front of vivid backdrops: in striking red in front of the Eiffel Tower, in pure white by the sea, and sapphire by the Arc de Triomphe. 

When FairPlanet met Satoh in Pattani in late August, she had returned home to exhibit the series (retitled ‘Hijab’ – a more region-specific descriptor) at the nine-day Pattani Decoded biennale, a networking event to bring together local businesses and creatives and speak at a forum on local women in the creative and design industries. 

IDENTITY AND CULTURE IN ART

Did you decide to tell stories about southern Thailand and cultural repression, or did this occur naturally over time in your work? 

I was resolute in my determination to emphasise oppression and produce works that mirrored these concerns. I think my surroundings have fuelled a deep-seated desire to express these ideas. 

This drive has grown and evolved with me over time.

You have documented the women of Southern Thailand who have lost family to the conflict. What themes resonate with you in this work, and what message would you like audiences to internalise?

The themes of oppression and victimisation served as inspiration for my work. I believe that they and individuals who share in enduring such experiences should not be treated in such a manner. They are human beings.

The idea of a 'lost motherland' is now a fact in many parts of the world. Conflict has led to forced migration, with many fleeing violence in regions such as Myanmar, Syria and Palestine. This theme is universal in many ways. When you photographed this series, what was your thought process? What did you want to express?

Through this series, I aimed to emphasise the freedom refugees rightfully deserve. The separation from one's homeland is a painful experience. This series serves as a tribute and a prayer for those impacted by war.

It can be alienating to inhabit the identity of 'minority' – even more so when this is compounded by overlapping identities such as womanhood or religion. How do you approach these facets of yourself, and how do you express them in your work? 

I may have felt that way in my youth, but now I do not fear expressing myself. If my art can contribute to social change or speak truth to power, that holds significance.

Tell us about Burqa. What inspired this series? How did the audience react? You donned the hijab while in France – how did the nation’s response to Muslim women make you feel?

My time there involved questioning the freedom of expression of Muslim women. Wearing the hijab brought me closer to myself and my religion and enabled me to express my freedom. I felt empowered and challenged to articulate myself through my work.

It's natural for people to have different viewpoints. I feel fulfilled knowing I could voice these thoughts through my work.

And what are you currently working on?

I'm embarking on a new project that's deeply personal to me. It's inspired by my childhood memories of the Islamic school my grandfather started in Pattani. I was a student there, too.

THE EVOLUTION OF ARTISTIC EXPRESSION AND PRACTICE

How did you begin taking photographs? What was your first camera and first subject?

I began taking photos of my family with a regular camera. It was my first time photographing myself. It was a small Canon film camera. 

I was about 15 years old then, but I didn't take photography very seriously. I considered it more of a casual hobby. My true passion for photography began when I started studying Photography at the Faculty of Fine Arts at Rangsit University.

What challenges did you face as a young photographer before exhibiting your work? How did you overcome self-doubt?

I encountered challenges frequently when attempting new things, but I consistently had a strong desire to exhibit the work I had passionately created. 

The complexities of my work, particularly when addressing issues like community violence and women's rights, are multifaceted. This multifaceted nature of my work requires a presentation that can effectively engage viewers and stimulate critical thinking about the complex issues at hand.

From where do you source inspiration? What sort of people do you like to photograph?

I discover inspiration in my surroundings. I am intrigued by humanity, society, religion, and freedom. Classifying the people I photograph is challenging, as it hinges on the particular message I wish to communicate.

My work is inspired by my observations of the world around me. I delve deep into understanding these experiences before transforming them into creative outputs.

What was your most challenging series to photograph thus far, and why?

The Burqa series, due to the unfamiliar environment. The stark cultural differences, especially regarding clothing, presented a significant challenge when I first started wearing a hijab in France.

However, I overcame these obstacles and successfully asserted my identity as a hijab-wearing woman in that environment.

THE ROLE OF ART IN ACTIVISM

You take on very heavy themes. Are you worried about political backlash or criticism? Has there ever been pushback or intimidation from audiences or institutions?

I am entirely unconcerned about producing the work I desire to create, and I am prepared to confront any criticism. I believe that everyone possesses the right to criticise.

I might not be the bravest, but I want to use my art to confront the realities of society and humanity. I believe everyone has the potential to create art that sparks conversations and drives social change.

Who are your inspirations, and why? 

I don't have a specific inspiration, but if we are talking about artists, I admire how Ai Weiwei approaches his work. He often uses his art to comment on global events.

My father's role as a community leader also had a profound impact on me. Seeing him help others inspired me to use my art to address social issues and bring about positive change.

As a teacher, you are responsible for shaping young artists. What is your teaching philosophy? 

My students' art should reflect the world around them, contributing to a deeper understanding of society and humanity.

What do you want people to take away from your work? What is your biggest message?

Humans possess the right to freedom. They ought not to be oppressed or suppressed.

Image by Ampannee Satoh.