Chatpong Chuenrudeemol

Chatpong Chuenrudeemol, Principal and Founder of CHAT Architects, leads a Bangkok-based research and design practice. In 2012, Chatpong launched the “Bangkok Bastards” project, an innovative initiative that delves into creative architectural solutions crafted by everyday individuals to address daily challenges. Born in Thailand, Chatpong relocated to the US at the age of six, where he pursued his formal education. He graduated from the University of California, Berkeley and went on to obtain a Master of Architecture from Harvard University’s Graduate School of Design in 2000. His work has garnered numerous accolades, including the Silpathorn Award in 2020, recognising him as an outstanding living contemporary Thai artist in the field of architecture. Presented by the Office of Contemporary Art and Culture under Thailand’s Ministry of Culture, this award celebrates Chatpongs’ contributions to the country’s architectural landscape and his influence in shaping contemporary design.

In an exclusive interview with Asia Designers Directory, Chatpong Chuenrudeemol shares insights into the “Bangkok Bastards” project and reflects on his unique career journey. He discusses his exploration of authenticity, identity, and creativity within the context of his home country, offering a compelling look into his innovative approach to architecture.

Having studied at prestigious universities in the US, how has your formal education abroad influenced your approach to architecture in Thailand? What aspects of your US-based education have been most impactful in your work here?

This is a two-fold question. Studying at prestigious Western universities was both an honour and a challenge. While my education from renowned institutions provided critical thinking skills and opened doors, it also became a barrier when I returned to Thailand. My Western architectural knowledge didn’t translate well in Southeast Asia. The designs I initially produced failed to respond to the tropical climate and cultural context of Bangkok.

I realised that I couldn’t rely solely on referencing Western architects like Corbusier or Frank Lloyd Wright. I could not just read about traditional Thai architecture from books, or look at Thai temple and houses on stilts, because they were wonderful, valuable, and steep in history, but wouldn’t help me design a modern or contemporary building in Bangkok.

I felt that I had to start from zero, which turned me to the everyday structures in Bangkok, or what I call “Bangkok bastards”, or informal, everyday structures such as makeshift street food carts, informal housing, and other functional, low-cost designs. These structures, created by everyday people to solve everyday problems in life, are created out of necessity or efficiency, because most of these architectures were created by low income people. These became a rich source of inspiration and led me to do something that was authentic and meaningful in Thailand. The creativity, resourcefulness, and improvisation in these designs taught me to embrace constraints and think on my feet, leading to more meaningful architecture in Thailand.

Essentially, my Western education taught me critical thinking skills. But in terms of design authenticity, I had to relearn that and then reintegrate that into my formal Western education.

What is the most significant project from the “Bangkok Bastards” and what is your biggest takeaway?

Initially, people misunderstood my interest in Bangkok “bastards”, thinking I was just photographing slums like a tourist. But for me, the appeal lay in the design creativity born out of necessity. These structures, like worker housing or street stalls, weren’t built from theory but from practicality, using what was available. I began photographing, drawing, and modelling these informal structures, treating them with the same detail reserved for modern buildings. This revealed design insights that went unnoticed at first glance. But as a designer, I saw and was attracted to the purity of the design language that comes from invention when you don’t have much.

Once I start to photograph them, I wanted to look deeper to measure, draw accurately and model them. So I wound up drawing low-end “bastards”, which I call them, in a way that was reserved for modern, beautiful, high-end buildings. I learnt that there were hidden secrets and sharing these on social media gained attention from people looking for something beyond the globalised architectural trends of the early 2000s.

A major turning point came when Toto Gallery Ma in Tokyo invited me to exhibit my work as part of “The Asian Everyday,” which celebrated architecture grounded in local culture. This recognition showed me that the research had value beyond Thailand and opened doors for me both academically and professionally. On hindsight, “Bangkok Bastards” opened doors for me academically. Professionally, it taught me a new way to design – design that had an authenticity rooted in everyday street architecture. It was the DNA of this unique local aspect that led to the work becoming recognised.

What notable projects have emerged from this endeavour and what is its influence on urban design in Thailand?

One key project is the Samsen Street Hotel, in Bangkok, which I embarked on about a decade ago. This was an adaptive reuse of an old love motel, a type of structure with unique architectural features like secret courtyards and tunnels. I combined this with lessons from construction worker housing, using scaffolding to transform the once-secluded motel into an open and active part of the neighbourhood. The result was a building that was itself a “bastard,” blending two seemingly unrelated architectural influences.

The scaffolding allowed me to transform a once dark and mysterious introverted love motel into what I deemed a street hotel that activated the neighbourhood. This approach of blending elements from informal architecture has shaped many of my subsequent projects. It’s not just about aesthetics; it’s about incorporating the DNA of local, everyday structures into modern designs, creating buildings that feel authentic to their environment.

From your perspective, how has the architectural landscape in Thailand evolved over the years? What key trends or shifts have you observed, and how do they influence your work?

Thai designers are known for being adaptable and willing to take risks. We can easily adopt styles from Japan, Europe, or the US, but this strength can also be a weakness. We can adapt like chameleons. However, the ability to imitate different design languages sometimes leads to a lack of critical reflection on what makes our own architecture unique.

Right now, Thailand is at a crossroad. We have talented designers, but there’s a need for more focus on developing an authentic architectural voice. Without that, Bangkok and other Thai cities risk becoming indistinguishable from other cities like Singapore and Tokyo. Essentially, we need to understand what is unique about us and let it shine through our architectural language.

Would you describe yourself as a new-generation architect who is willing to challenge conventional design norms. How do you approach pushing the boundaries of architecture, and what drives your pursuit of unconventional ideas?

I prefer not to focus on myself, but on the work that I create. What drives me is the desire to push the boundaries of architecture, beyond the discipline itself. My goal is to create architecture that laypeople can understand. That’s why I use the word “bastards”, which instantly draws attention and shifts the conversation away from typical architectural jargon.

I want architecture to resonate with a broader audience. When we extend the conversation beyond the small circle of esteemed architects, we start to make a more meaningful impact across different sectors of society. By communicating in a way that reaches out to non-architects, it’ll empower architecture in general.

What are you working on at the moment? 

My work has evolved from a personal exploration of architecture in Bangkok and Thailand to a method that has caught on elsewhere. For instance, I was recently invited to Kyoto to run a studio called the “Kyoto Bastard Studio”.

Kyoto, with its rich cultural history and well-preserved traditions, might seem like an unlikely place to explore unconventional architectural ideas. However, even in such a culturally rich city, architects are searching for fresh perspectives on architecture. In the studio, we bring together students from Singapore, Thailand, Hong Kong, Japan, and China who have studied what we call “bastards” in their home cities—or architectural hybrids or unconventional designs that exist in the urban fabric. These students come to Kyoto to discover its own “twin bastards”, or undercurrents within the city that offer solutions to contemporary challenges, like rapid urbanisation and the effects of the pandemic.

It might sound a bit unconventional, but the process is really engaging because we’re seeking ways to move forward in architecture. What’s interesting is that even in cities with rich heritage, we face the same global issues, and our approach offers new insights to address them.

In the past five years, my work has expanded beyond Bangkok to rural areas in Thailand. We’ve started studying what I call “rural crossbreeds”, or architectural hybrids found in rice paddies, orchards, and areas where urban and rural landscapes merge. Recently, we’ve been working with indigenous communities to explore how handmade huts and agricultural tools reflect modern crossbreeds with traditional architecture.

These things that we study are limitless, because these “live architectures”, as I coin them are around us and changing every day. As such, they’re a constant source of design inspiration.

What is your vision moving forward? Where do you see yourself five years from now?

I hope for Thailand or Southeast Asia to become more aware of their identities. I also hope that our design becomes more recognisably authentic when we design in a way that doesn’t just look out and take in the global scene but actually start to develop something that’s internal such that the world comes to us.

I do not think this goal is far-fetched goal because many people are already converging in Southeast Asia because of its rich culture and potential for growth in terms of architectural exploration or any type of design. Our goal is to ensure that as this shift occurs, we are prepared to be at the centre of attention, with a solid foundation of authenticity and creativity.