MELT

The deterioration of photographic objects is often associated with deliberate artistic intervention. Artists scratch negatives, soak film in chemicals, cut or puncture photographic prints, scan and manipulate images through various processes. If we take the intact photograph as a starting point, these actions can be understood as acts of degradation—intentional departures from the image's original state.

There is, however, another kind of deterioration that arrives on its own. It is commonly found in older photographic materials: film negatives, prints, and other analogue media that have been poorly stored and gradually surrendered to their surroundings. In such cases, nature seems to take possession of the object, reshaping it as though it were the true author. Artists later recover these remnants and present them as found objects (fragments rescued from everyday life and relocated into the space of art).

MELT is a group exhibition that brings together Thai artists from different disciplines around this condition of transformation. At its centre is MELT (2026), a project by Sutee Kunavichayanont (b. 1965) consisting of 500 rolls of photographic film produced between 1977 and the mid-1990s. Over time, the emulsion on these films melted and deteriorated to the point where much of the original imagery disappeared. A few strips still retain traces of their former subjects, but most have become something else entirely—abstract compositions that seem less photographed than painted onto the film itself.

The work recalls ERODED MEMORIES PROJECT (2013) by Pramuan Burusphat (b. 1953), who explored a remarkably similar condition. Pramuan described two states of deterioration. In the first, enough of the original image survives for its former structure to remain visible. These fragments evoke memories that have begun to fade yet still retain a connection to a particular place and time (in his case, Bangkok in 1970). Sutee's work also remains tethered to specific moments through documentary records displayed elsewhere in the exhibition, where locations, dates, and times are carefully preserved.

The second state is one in which everything has disappeared. The image is gone, leaving only abstract forms and patterns behind. Here, time becomes the master, and deterioration its gift to the objects under its care. Though separated by more than a decade, both artists arrive at a strikingly similar way of visualizing this passage. Together, these works speak of memory (both personal and collective) as something that inevitably erodes.

They also point to the limitations of materials, and perhaps of human beings themselves. Humans, after all, are also objects of a kind. We cannot preserve information forever, no matter how often we transfer it from one form to another: from the mind to film, from film to digital files, from files to paper, hard drives, servers, and clouds. At a certain point, the artists relinquish ownership over these memories. They accept deterioration and transformation, not only in physical form but also in the stories and meanings that accumulate around an object over time. In one sense, this acceptance extends to the artists themselves.

Abandonment plays an important role in these works. The memories embodied in these materials were left behind for years before being encountered again through unexpected circumstances. Pramuan discovered that his own negatives had begun to melt, which reminded him of another collection of film once given to him by his father-in-law that had suffered the same fate. Manit Sriwanichpoom (b. 1961) similarly revisits fragments of old pornographic film that had partially melted over time, leaving marks that resemble a kind of natural censorship. Enlarged and presented as Dream Rendezvous (2026), these images emerged directly from his invitation to participate in this exhibition.

The artists create new memories from abandoned ones. Looking at these neglected materials anew, they begin to recognize meanings and values that had long gone unnoticed. They re-establish these objects, giving them another burden to bear—as though offering a measure of justice to memories that had been left behind. Placed upon pedestals within the exhibition space, these objects wait quietly for time and change to resume their patient, unwavering work once again.