If you've ever lusted after a huge piece of wooden Thai furniture, or gushed
over an ornate wooden carving, chances are it came from the Hang Dong or Ban
Tawai area of Chiang Mai province. The region is rich in traditional artisans,
helping Thailand to its position as the 17th largest exporter of creative
products in the world.
And few have been as influential as Khun Areesak (Pop's) business ...
On the main road from Chiang Mai to Hang Dong, you can't miss the
Thai Plit Pan Carving Factory, with its massively wide wooden frontage with
artifacts spilling out all over the place. This was started by Pop's father,
Khun Somrot, 45 years ago.
'When he started, everyone was just carving animals,' says the congenial
slender all-in-Johnny-Cash-black Pop, who happily shows me around the several
floors of the main shop, and then takes me out the back, up the garden path to
a series of old out-buildings and warehouses full of rotting wood,
artifacts-to-be, and nearly finished products. It's a timber version of Steptoe
and Son.
The rotting wood, as it turns out, is like gold dust. 'Old teak trees, about
400 years old,' says the gracefully middle-aged Pop, tapping a pile of old
lumber. 'Old wood is better because it doesn't crack.'
Sculptures, statutes, folding panels, and furniture all magically take form
under the chisels, saws and planes of his craftsmen. The intricacy is
bewildering -- some details in a wooden mural no bigger than toothpicks -- in
tableaux that take literally years to create. A team of around 50 craftsmen and
women turn teak into treasures, some of them specialising solely in village
dioramas, others mythical naga serpent figures.
But his pieces-de-resistance are tables. Imagine BHP Billiton or some
other large conglomeration that has need for a boardroom table to fit hundreds
of directors around. Pop makes them BIG. Half a forest goes into some of these.
One is on display for 800,000 baht; that's about 25,000 bucks, jing jing.
'We have sold many pieces for over 1 million baht,' declares Pop proudly.
'And we once shipped an 11-metre table to Norway.' They've clearly come a long
way since his dad decided there was more to Thai craftsmanship than chipping
away at little sculptures of elephants.
One of the tables on display is a hollowed out teak trunk, full of
fantasmagorical fish and mermaids and crabs and all things maritime carved into
its interior. The top is glass. The idea is that the table will be filled with
water and become a giant fish tank-cum-conference table. Talk about a present
for someone who has everything!
Upstairs, as I try out a really comfy chair, I spy Pop's mum doing the
ironing in a back room. And his father, who still despite his advanced years,
works the shop floor keeping an eye on Pop. Then he introduces me to his
daughter, a student at Chiang Mai university, who also puts in time at the
family business.
But the problem I have is that as much as I like these tables, I don't think
my landlord would take kindly to me bashing out one of the walls in order to
make it fit the lounge room. There again I could always put the table out in
the garden. After all, this wood's been sitting around in the sun and rain for
400 years already ...
