Street decorations of the Fibreglass Kingdom - durable but often charmless

These elaborate structures of wood, bamboo, rattans, and gilt paper are intended for purely temporary use. Constructed as an architectural representation of Mount Meru, the sacred centre of the universe, Phra Meru would be dismantled as soon as the cremation ceremony concluded. Other notable temporary structures include the Khao Krailat, an artificial mountain of bamboo and tinsel used during the tonsure ceremony of celestial princes.

Temporary structures are not uniquely Thai. Examples from other cultures abound, from the Tibetan mandala to the great Shrine at Ise, Japan. The Romans erected temporary triumphal arches and firework stands during grand civic ceremonies. This tradition continued into the Baroque period, when monarchs strategically deployed temporary triumphal arches and theatres to enhance their control of the public realm.

Since they were not built to last, ephemeral architecture allowed architects and designers freedom to explore the limits of form. As the structures were often light, the emphasis was often placed on spectacle, symbolism, or both. Its transience made over-the-topness acceptable.

A local case study is Bangkok’s urban decoration for the occasion of Their Majesty’s birthdays. The practice began in the reign of King Rama V when Siamese elite adopted the European practice of celebrating birthdays. The city would be illuminated for a couple of days around the King’s birthday, with firework displays and theatrical performances throughout the city. The King and his entourage would traverse the city in the evenings to enjoy the spectacle. The practice continued through the end of Rama V’s reign, culminating in the grand triumphal arches erected along Ratchadamnoen Avenue during the celebration of the King’s return from his second European journey in 1907. Plywood, cloth, and gilded paper were used extensively in the construction of arches of various architectural styles, representing the King’s cosmopolitan taste and his subject’s reverence.

After decades of decline, His Majesty King Bhumibol Adulyadej restored the Thai monarchy’s popularity. City streets once again became prominent sites for the display of the public’s affection. Bangkok residents are familiar with how major streets are specially decorated with fairy lights, flags, and bunting during the King’s birthday in December and the Queen’s birthday in August. In earlier days, it was a real pleasure to drive around Chitralada Palace to enjoy the evening’s breezes and the display of lights commemorating the King’s birthday. After a few weeks, these would be dismantled and the streets returned to normal, awaiting the next occasion.

More recently the situation has slowly devolved. Fibreglass commemorative stands now dominate. Undeniably light, cheap, and durable, fibreglass can be reproduced infinitely and performs better than traditional materials like plywood or cloth.

Yet, the danger lies exactly in its lightness and cheapness. Their affordability ensures their ubiquity regardless of the propriety of the setting, more often than not already crowded with billboards, police boxes, and derelict telephone booths. It is unfortunate to see a fibreglass commemorative stand, complete with a digital image of the King, the sacred Garuda, and the votive offerings in silver and gold, lost amid the jumble of the urban landscape.

Durability is the worst danger. As they can endure tropical weather conditions, the fibreglass stands now remain a permanent fixture in the urban landscape, like having a Christmas tree in one’s front lawn all year round.

A sad example is Ratchadamnoen Avenue. The green vistas of old tamarind trees and grass are intermittently disrupted by the commemorative stands. As ephemerality becomes permanent, special occasions become mundane. Welcome to the Fibreglass Kingdom.

 

Pirasri Povatong, Faculty of Architecture, Chulalongkorn University