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Enid Tsui

There was never any doubt that Nawapooh Sae-tang, the grandson of the late Bangkok-born artist Tang Chang, would inherit the family business of protecting and promoting his legacy.
“My father had told me from a young age that as his eldest son, I would have to be involved in the running of the estate,” he says ahead of the May 1 opening of the Tang Chang Private Museum in Nakhon Pathom, an hour outside the Thai capital.
It might not have been his choice, but Nawapooh has blossomed into a dedicated champion of his grandfather, who died in 1990, two years before Nawapooh was born.
The estate has felt like something of a ball and chain for the family ever since Tang chose his fourth son – Nawapooh’s father, Thip – to manage his affairs posthumously. The burden also fell heavily on Nawapooh’s mother, Duangnate, who had to navigate all the English-language communications in the early days.
“My father was working in a publishing house,” says 34-year-old Nawapooh, who is unassuming and sports the same sharp buzz cut as his 63-year-old father. “Nobody wanted [the archive], but my grandfather told everyone before he died, ‘This is for Thip.’”

The responsibility Thip and Duangnate shouldered in their twenties was staggering – the sheer volume of material they inherited was onerous, to say the least.
They were left with more than 200 paintings on canvas, thousands of works on paper, and mountains of photographs, newspaper clippings and exhibition catalogues in an archive that mirrored the intense hoarding tendencies of another renowned self-taught artist, Hong Kong’s Ha Bik-chuen.
Further complicating matters, the family had no real financial backing and no established relationships with galleries, collectors or academics.
During his lifetime, Tang – who also went by Chang Sae-tang – famously never sold his work and fiercely disavowed the Thai art establishment. Born in 1934 to impoverished Teochew Chinese immigrants, he had his formal education abruptly cut short at age 10 due to the devastating impacts of World War II.
Fluent in both Chinese and Thai, the entirely self-taught artist made ends meet by rendering technically superb, photorealistic charcoal portraits in a small commercial studio, running a corner shop with his wife and selling herbal tea from a street stall.

Tang rejected commercial galleries, museums and the prevailing modern art network centred on Silpakorn University and its Italian founder, Corrado Feroci. He opted instead for absolute creative independence and produced paintings, sculptures, poems and translations in such wildly divergent artistic languages that his oeuvre remains misunderstood to this day.
Yet, an unwavering conviction that Tang was one of modern Asian art’s most fascinating figures – and that his finest pieces belong in the world’s top museums – sustains the family’s monumental efforts.
Nawapooh says that this dedication led them to invest 20 million baht (US$620,000) of their own money to build a museum to show and conserve the art right next to their home.
Though Tang is not well known internationally, in 1973, he painted one of the most famous 20th century Thai paintings, October 14.
At more than two metres (6.5ft) wide, this monumental, arresting self-portrait holds pride of place within the new, 1,300-square-metre (14,000 sq ft) single-storey museum.

According to the museum’s extensive online database, October 14 was exhibited only once during Tang’s lifetime. It has been shown six times since, amid a surge of interest in art outside the Euramerican canon, with notable appearances at the National Gallery Singapore in 2016 and as part of a solo exhibition at the Centre Pompidou in Paris in 2023-24.
Viewing the piece up close is a disturbing experience. It was Tang’s deeply personal response to the historical horrors of the date in its title, when armed forces shot dead dozens of students and injured more than 800 during a 1973 pro-democracy protest against Thailand’s military dictatorship. Naked shock, vulnerability and dread radiate from the canvas.
As Tang’s only self-portrait that has been extensively written about, October 14 dominates the critical discourse surrounding him, but he produced hundreds of others from the 1950s until his death. Dozens of these line the walls in the new museum’s inaugural exhibition, infusing it with his presence.
These range from the realistic to playful abstractions and symbolic manifestations of the Taoist and Buddhist philosophies that the autodidact intensely studied. This prolific output shows a fascinating tension between Buddhist self-effacement and an overwhelmingly strong personal will.
Armed with a palpable charisma evident in old television interview footage, Tang cultivated a devoted following of young male artists who revered him as a bit of a guru.
Frequently photographed in monk-like garb, Tang, and by extension his practice, was steeped in spirituality. He viewed the simple act of stirring paint as meditative, and his technique of flinging himself onto canvases to smear pigment with his limbs was an intensely ritualistic performance.

Decades ago, Thip and Duangnate made the bold choice to live intimately with this art. They built three wooden houses on a plot in Nakhon Pathom, using one primarily for storing and displaying the collection – a prototype for the Tang Chang Private Museum.
Unfortunately, it lacked air conditioning and was surrounded by rice paddies and fruit farms, making it a less-than-ideal environment for delicate archives. Thip sold a small number of works to local collectors to fund conservation, but stopped in 2016, mindful that a lack of serious research into his father’s work was hampering the creation of a sustainable market for it.
Visiting art historians and curators – including this writer while researching a paper in 2020 – watched with dismay as the thick impasto on Tang’s paintings was cracking and flaking away, feeling that time was rapidly running out. The longer the deterioration went unchecked, the harder it would be to convince the world that this was art worth looking at.
Enter a grown-up Nawapooh. Now serving as the museum’s director, he is as committed as his father, but brings an academic edge and English fluency to the table. His single-minded devotion has seen him spend the past few years pursuing a doctorate at the University of Malaya in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, naturally writing his thesis on Tang Chang.
By actively engaging with an expanding network of auction houses, museums, academics and private institutions, Nawapooh has developed a clear-eyed understanding of the art ecosystem and a fierce determination to run the estate completely hands-on.
Visiting the new Nakhon Pathom museum this April, the massive, shed-like structure felt bright and airy, naturally cooled by a light breeze and giant ceiling fans.

The building, which is funded by the resumption of limited sales, still lacks air conditioning outside the offices and conservation room due to prohibitive costs. As Anthony Yung, head of research and archives at Hong Kong’s Asia Art Archive, points out, this is a common struggle.
“There are really high standards for climate control for archives and artworks, and it is simply not feasible for most collections because the cost is too high. Even if you have dehumidifiers and fans, it’s still not up to scratch,” he says.
“I have been to many places – universities, national museums in Southeast Asia – even their storage facilities don’t meet up with climate control standards.”
This just-in-time mission to rescue the treasure trove from further deterioration is buoyed by mounting interest from major international exhibitions.
Hong Kong-based art collector Lewis Cheng, owner of the art logistics firm Eythos, backed a research project on Tang for the Pompidou show and remains in close contact with the family.
“Tang Chang holds a rare place in post-war art history, one that the world is still catching up to,” says Cheng, who is deeply drawn to the “raw honesty” of his work.
“He painted on soot, burlap and industrial scraps, not out of necessity but out of conviction. A single trembling line on torn sackcloth somehow carries the weight of ancient Buddhist thought and post-war human anxiety at the same time,” Cheng adds.
“Truly remarkable is that while European artists were tearing apart traditional form after the war, Tang Chang arrived at a very similar place entirely on his own, from a tradition rooted in Thai calligraphy, Buddhist philosophy, and Southeast Asian life. He wasn’t following anyone. He was in conversation with the wider world on his own terms. That independence is exactly what gives his work its authority.”

The preservation effort remains very much a family affair. Nawapooh’s aunts manage the office alongside a small museum staff, while his younger brother Phumraphee handles the IT side of things. Meanwhile, a young cousin acts as an apprentice conservator, working under part-time professional Yanisa Thongchai to stabilise around two dozen high-risk canvases.
Building a superb online database while handling conservation in-house demands monumental commitment – a sacrifice that Stephane Lam knows intimately. The son of Cuban artist Wifredo Lam navigated a similar path to find genuine allies for his father’s estate.
“It upends a generation and requires a great deal of courage and sacrifice to preserve this legacy, from both an ethical and moral standpoint as well as a strategic one,” Hong Kong-based Lam says when asked his thoughts on such a family undertaking.
Looking ahead, Tang’s rarely seen landscapes will shine in an upcoming solo exhibition at Galerie du Monde (GdM) in Hong Kong, curated by the Tang Chang Private Museum’s Singapore-based research head, Sheryl Gwee.
Though the family considered other galleries, they ultimately chose GdM for its proven expertise in representing Chinese diasporic artist estates, such as that of Wesley Tongson, which is managed by his sister Cynthia.
“We think there is a lot of potential in exploring Tang Chang through his identity as a Chinese diasporic artist because of the connection with the Chinese ink tradition,” Nawapooh says.
While viewing Tang through the lens of the diaspora offers a compelling entry point to define who he was, his brilliantly multifaceted and rebellious practice will ultimately always transcend the boundaries of any single confinement, continually inviting the art world to discover his genius anew.


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A partial view of “October 14” (1973), by Tang Chang. The Thai-Chinese artist’s self-portrait was painted in the wake of a 1973 crackdown in Bangkok that left dozens of pro-democracy protesters dead and hundreds more injured. The canvas is on show at the Tang Chang Private Museum, which will open in Nakhon Pathom on May 1. Photo: Tang Chang Private Museum

An undated photograph shows Tang Chang with his wife and two children outside their home in Bangkok, Thailand. His pseudo-calligraphy, which is illegible, can be seen painted on the door beside them. Photo: Tang Chang Private Museum

An untitled diptych that Tang painted with his hands and body in the 1960s is displayed at the new Tang Chang Private Museum. Photo: Tang Chang Private Museum

October 14 (1973), by Tang Chang. Photo: Tang Chang Private Museum

Nawapooh (second left), his father Thip (right), mother Duangnate and younger brother Phumraphee stand in front of their home opposite the new Tang Chang Private Museum. Photo: Enid Tsui

The exterior of the new Tang Chang Private Museum. Photo: Enid Tsui

A storage area in the new Tang Chang Private Museum. Photo: Tang Chang Private Museum

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“Untitled 1” (2013), by Dinh Q. Le. Photo: 10 Chancery Lane Gallery. This woven image is based on the infamous “Napalm Girl” photograph taken during the Vietnam war. It is featured in an exhibition at Hong Kong’s 10 Chancery Lane Gallery that pays tribute to the late Vietnamese artist. Photo” courtesy of 10 Chancery Lane Gallery

Vietnamese-American artist Dinh Q. Le is photographed at his “Tropicana Migration” exhibition at Hong Kong’s 10 Chancery Lane Gallery in 2015. A new exhibition at the gallery is a tribute to the artist, who died in 2024. Photo: 10 Chancery Lane Gallery

“Untitled 1” (2013), by Dinh Q. Le. Photo: 10 Chancery Lane Gallery

“The Two Widows” (2024), by Dinh Q. Le. Photo: 10 Chancery Lane Gallery

Installation view of “Remembrance: A Tribute to the Work of Dinh Q. Le”. Photo: 10 Chancery Lane Gallery

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HEM executive director Shao Shu has been with the museum since the beginning. Photo: HEM

At Least There’s Love, by Dongguan-based artist Li Jinghu. Photo: Cheung Hok-hang

Guangzhou-based artist Chen Jialu’s installation as part of the “Threads of Kinship” exhibition. Photo courtesy of HEM

Part of Chen Jialu’s piece Gupoyu, on show at HEM and part of “Threads of Kinship”. Photo: courtesy Chen Jialu

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A mixed-media piece Nissa Kauppila made in 2025, painted on discarded materials found on the beach near her home on Hong Kong’s Lantau Island. Photo: Nissa Kauppila

The view from Kauppila’s childhood home in the US state of Vermont. Photo: Nissa Kauppila

One of Kauppila’s earlier works in 2015, when she had first begun experimenting with traditional Chinese materials. Photo: Nissa Kauppila

Kauppila moved from mainland China to Hong Kong in part for easy access to nature. Photo: Nissa Kauppila

One of Kauppila’s pieces features a Mormon butterfly on discarded materials collected from Pui O Beach on Hong Kong’s Lantau Island. Photo: Nissa Kauppila

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The Tang Chang Private Museum opens on May 1 as the Bangkok-born artist’s family aims to show the world his work before it’s too late


The Tang Chang Private Museum opens on May 1 as the Bangkok-born artist’s family aims to show the world his work before it’s too late.


New Tang Chang art museum in Thailand preserves Thai-Chinese art rebel’s remarkable legacy

.css-1c6uqr6{color:inherit;font-weight:inherit;font-size:inherit;font-family:inherit;line-height:inherit;overflow-wrap:break-word;}The Tang Chang Private Museum opens on May 1 as the Bangkok-born artist’s family aims to show the world his work before it’s too late

The Tang Chang Private Museum opens on May 1 as the Bangkok-born artist’s family aims to show the world his work before it’s too late