What was the impetus to start Music Matters back in 2006?
Music Matters was introduced to liven and enrich the music industry in Asia. It was important to bring the music made in Asia to the rest of the world and to provide opportunities for up-and-coming bands to learn from people who have made it in the industry.
Have you planned any special programs to help musicians who are just starting out?
Branded Ltd. has contributed US$50,000 (S$61,886) worth of passes to enable local musicians to meet with and learn from those attending Music Matters 2012. Our mentoring sessions will provide attending musicians the opportunity to learn from experienced artist managers, producers, publishers and professionals to gain first hand creative advice for their careers.
Is there a particular speaker you are most looking forward to hear from?
Troy Carter, the man behind the Gaga phenomenon. He’s speaking at Music Matters for the very first time in Asia. Troy has been instrumental in Lady Gaga's success; he has illustrated how taking advantage of radical new marketing techniques can give an artist an additional boost. Can't wait to hear how they did it.
How has the Asian music market changed since 2006?
With technology, the music world has transformed into a global village. The Asian music market has evolved radically having amalgamated other music cultures with its own. Recently, consumers have been catching on the Hall-yu (Korean wave). It is the perfect example of how technology has contributed to the transformation of traditional music. Today, Korean music is heavily infused with western pop influences like rap, rhythm and English lyrics.
What are your future plans for the event?
We hope the event will continue in its growth and relevance to both Asian and international markets. We want it to become a platform for aspiring artists to be discovered by and learn from the industry's very best.
Music Matters 2012 runs May 22-26 at The Ritz Carlton.
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Why Vue Privée?
I moved to Singapore in 1998, a passionate young photographer with big dreams. Years down the road, having worked on campaigns for major local and international brands, I realized I was still deep down a frustrated artist. Becoming a fully-fledged artist was out of the question, so I decided to open an art space that would promote all those wonderful photographers and artists out there, with the hopes of launching their artistic careers.
What differentiates you guys from other galleries?
We do not really like to be called “a gallery.” Nothing wrong with the word, but it is very limiting in vision. We want to be a space where artists and the general public feel empowered by art. We help young artists with the production of their works and cover all their transportation, framing and installation costs.
Why the move?
The new venue in Spottiswoode Park provides us with more flexibility. This wide open space provides the perfect, blank canvas to showcase large-scale works that require more viewing distance, enhancing the experience for the viewer to appreciate them.
You guys also have a strong online platform; so why the need for a physical space?
We are a mortar business. Our online platform allows us to reach the whole world. But we are still based out of Singapore and it is important to have a physical presence in order to create dialogues among artists.
Why do you think affordable art has taken off in such a big way?
Art uplifts people and everyone should be able to own at least one piece of original art in their home. At Vue Privée, buying accessible priced art does not mean you are necessarily buying a cheaper artist. It just means that you are paying the fair price for something produced in a higher edition number. It is a great way to not only start collecting, but also a wonderfully unique gift idea. And you can potentially also buy something that may gain value with time when the artist gains notoriety.
Vue Privée is now located at 63 Spottiswoode Park. Check out their current exhibition, Buy Bye.
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When did you start dancing?
I started at age seven-and-a-half at the Robert Ivey Ballet School in Charleston, South Carolina. I attended pointe classes (usually only done by female dancers) three times a week in addition to my regular sessions. The Trocks were always an ambition.
How different is it dancing male and female parts?
With the male role, there is a looser freer movement and the ease and comfort of being in a flat slipper. But I like the challenge and silent strength required for female movements, especially when combined with my masculine strength.
Humor is a big part of the show. Do you have a background in comedy?
I don’t but I have a great sense of humor and was always considered the class clown.
What’s it like getting into those tutus?
Putting on a tutu is a lifting experience, literally. Ours are made to accommodate our male figures but they do the same as they would for women.
Have you ever had any kind of wardrobe malfunction?
I’ve had experience with my strap breaking or skirt snagging but my most memorable (and embarrassing) moments have been the few times I lost my wig.
How do you deal with injury, pain and strain?
Eight hours of sleep every night, a good diet, lots of ice, heat and sometimes ibuprofen.
Les Ballets Trockadero de Monte Carlo is on through May 5 at the Esplanade Theatre.
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When did your passion for choreography begin?
It began with Michael Bennett. He would walk into the rehearsal room, throw off his coat, tell the drummer to play a rhythm, and start to dance. Choreography poured out of him. It was so much fun. The other assistants and I would pick up steps, as he wouldn't always remember what he did. I could learn it and write it down faster than anyone else.
How does the Australian cast compare with the original?
The original company, for many of us, was playing our lives. We went through a year of development with Michael Bennett. That experience was priceless. In order to get the same incredible moments 36 years later, we have to examine each actor thoroughly. Hopefully, I have done my job well and the cast is very close to the original. I think the Australian group is spot on.
How has the show changed since its inception?
The show has gone round the world and sometimes the actors speak different languages like German or Japanese. But Michael Bennett wanted an audience anywhere to experience what was seen in New York. So the elements (sets, costumes, lights) remain the same. We haven't changed the show. We want you to see it as it was. It’s a period piece.
How important is it that your performers be a triple threat, and be able to sing, dance and act?
Very. If they start out with one element that is not as strong as the other two, we work on that at the A Chorus Line boot camp.
The role of Connie must feel so personal. How do you pick a Connie?
They usually pick themselves with their talent and personality. After all these years, I have learnt to treat Connie as one of the characters and not me.
What is your favorite song in the show?
“What I Did For Love”. It tells us why we do what we do. We have no regrets because it makes us feel whole as a human being.
How do you feel about the Singapore audience?
I am excited for them to experience the show. I hope they go beneath the surface and see what artists and performers go through. This is dedicated to anyone who ever had to march in step. To anyone who ever had to go for a job interview.
A Chorus Line runs May 4-27, 7:30pm; 5-6, 12-13, 19-20, 26-27, 1:30pm at the Sands Theater.
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Was it your love for sports that got you started?
Yes, definitely. I started doing sports regularly after I realized that my liver would not last very long if I continued with the way I was living—barhopping and socializing late into the night—in Dubai, where I’d co-founded an investment advisory boutique. I became fond of sports not only because it kept me fit, but also because it allowed me to make new friends. When I moved back to Singapore, I had an urge to set up a business and sports immediately came to mind.
What was the process like starting out?
It took about one day to put a rough plan and financial projections together. After I’d done that, I shared my idea with everyone who was willing to listen to it, hoping for someone to tell me how bad it was. No one did and in September 2011, I took over the operations of a futsal court operator in Punggol and haven’t looked back since.
What has been your proudest moment from this journey?
I don’t have just one proud moment—each time we complete an event, whether it’s a recreational sport open night or a tournament, is a proud moment for my team and I. People seem to think that event organization happens overnight, but in order to differentiate ourselves from our competitors, we work 12-hour days everyday. Nothing beats seeing a smile on the clients’ face.
Any less than positive feedback so far?
When we first invested in our indoor street basketball court, people said we were crazy. They were right about the abundance of courts in Singapore, but they’d missed the point. We cater to the “after-work athlete”, and having an indoor court that opens till late (we usually play basketball till 2am in the morning) makes absolute sense!
How would you describe Playlor! if it was a friend?
Playlor! is someone who brings out the best in me.
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I’m inspired by ordinary people who accomplish the seemingly impossible by setting their mind to it.
I won’t live my life constrained by societal norms and expectations.
I’ve been on the Paleo diet for about a year now and I think it’s quite self-reinforcing—I’ve seen massive improvements in terms of performance, so that keeps me going.
It helps that I focus on quality over quantity when it comes to food and nutrition, so there’s nothing standing in the way of me and a large Porterhouse steak any day.
My smile has gotten me places.
Hand-cut, twice-cooked sweet potato fries dipped in spicy chipotle mayo from Zingerman’s Roadhouse in Ann Arbor are like sex in your mouth.
I set my iPhone alarm for an hour before I’m supposed to wake up just so I can have the pleasure of hitting the snooze button umpteen times before I finally get my ass out of bed.
I’ve driven in the US, Australia, and Singapore and, unfortunately, we seem to have the most assholes on the road.
I don’t give a shit if guys are intimidated by me. Everyone’s free to think what they want.
I think a man’s confidence and poise are his sexiest qualities—if he’s intimidated by my athleticism, then he’s not Mr. Right.
Be smart when you play the cards you’re dealt, and you’ll emerge a winner one way or another.
Don’t live life with any regrets, everything happens for a reason.
I don’t like flowers or superficial bullshit. My ideal date is someone engaging and intelligent so I don’t have to idly play with my food or compose a little instrumental with a spoon and a wine glass, willing time to pass faster.
There’s no point dwelling on mistakes—everyone slips up! Just clean up your shit and move on.
I only sing in the shower when I’m heavily intoxicated.
Nice hamstrings usually equate to a cute bum.
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Dream Country was based on your 1988 work, the Urn Piece. How has it evolved since then?
Marion D'Cruz: The original was for three performers. This is for 35. We started with the idea of 100 but this was not possible logistically and financially. We came down to 50 and then now 35, which is significant because this is the 35th year of the Singapore Arts Festival.
What’s the symbolism of the urn in this piece?
Anne James: The urn is ubiquitous in South East Asia. It is part of our past and present. It brings to mind images of life, birth, death and much more, both commonplace and profound.
How did you find and recruit the cast of female performers?
AJ: We engaged four directors who are working with eight to nine performers each. Some people were invited by the directors; others were selected at an open call. It was an unusual audition process. Participants were asked to bring swimwear, be ready to get wet and to bring towels. They were literally asked to plunge into the urns. Then, the directors chose whom they wanted to work with. All of the performers had to agree to get thoroughly wet, wear sack-cloth and get dirty!
Does working in an open air space affect the performance?
MD: The piece can work anywhere. I have done it indoors and with good lighting it was quite magical. But outdoors, there is an organic relationship among the urns, water, sacks, earth, sky, sun, moon, stars and trees. There is a greater sense of expanse.
What are your personal hopes and dreams for the show?
AJ: I hope the performers have a blast just playing with water, urns, sacks and the ground. I hope the viewer feels the desire to jump into the urns and play too—be a child again—and create their own stories and journeys.
Dream Country runs May 31-Jun 1, 8pm at the Esplanade Park.
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How did you get into music?
My Ma sang to me from a very young age. I loved nursery rhymes. I would try to remember every song I knew and sing it to myself before falling asleep. I was always drawn to music in films. The soundtracks to Oliver Twist, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang and Mary Poppins were all a big part of my childhood. As a teenager, I played the guitar and started writing songs. In my early 20s, I attempted to go down a different path, but music pulled me back again. As soon as I graduated, instead of finding a “serious” job, I threw myself into Tiny Ruins.
How has growing up with music influenced your perspective as a person and an artist?
By necessity, it opens you up to the world a bit more, and broadens your horizons. You go into the world wanting to listen, to seek out and draw things from everyday life. It forces you to notice the world, and to feel things more intensely. It can also go the other way—focusing solely on music is a mistake I think. You can become self-centered and annoying if that's all you care to talk about. Musicians seem to be a section of society that's a bit looser, a bit crazier. So you meet interesting people and often feel very alive, even if you're not so financially well-off...
Which is more difficult: writing lyrics or melodies?
Melodies seem to be a natural thing for me. They're always playing around in my head. Lyrics can emerge quickly, at the same time as a melody, or they can be scrawled in notebooks over many months and worked on. It is only when you have lyrics that excite you that you have a song—melodies on their own just come and go. But working on lyrics makes me feel like I'm moving forward and creating something.
Do you prefer performing live or playing in a studio, recording albums?
Performing live is what I'm more used to. Studios are pretty alien environments to me, and I can feel a bit daunted when in one. I prefer the idea of recording at home or in a homely environment.
How’s touring going?
Touring is a blast for the most part, but certainly has its stressful moments and tough times, especially when on a low budget and hitting new territories. I try and eat well while on tour—lots of greens! And try to experience something small and special in each new town, like visit their museum. I like taking long walks in new towns.
Tiny Ruins is on May 4, 7:30pm at the Esplanade Recital Studio. Tickets are on sale now for $38.00 via Sistic.
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We spoke to five freelancers about what it’s like to go solo. We weren’t so much interested in client horror stories (after all, you get those in an office, too) as in what motivated their big decision, and if they still felt positive about freelancing after having experienced it first hand. Two of our interviewees eventually went back to full-time positions within a company—and another is considering it—but all felt freelancing is a positive experience. Find out why.
Going freelance could also mean doing two jobs, or pursuing that job you’ve always dreamed of. In this particular case, Wachiraporn Janrut, 33, quit her job as a salesperson at a magazine to discover another side of her industry—writing. But to complement her income she began by doing both sales and writing as a freelancer.
“Time flies. If you want to do something, then you should act right away,” says Wachiporn, although her decision didn’t exactly happen overnight. Por started her sales career at Big Chili, an expat magazine in Bangkok, and worked there for seven years before moving to a deal-a-day website startup. At the time, she was making from B70,000-100,000 per month, but she still yearned for an opportunity to pursue her passion for writing.
She quit to become a freelance salesperson. On the plus side, it meant being her own boss. “There are no rules and regulations to comply with,” she says. “I can work from wherever I want, so it doesn’t get boring.” But freelancing also requires huge self-discipline. Although her working hours were not fixed, she would set to-do lists for herself. “Each day I set a goal of what work I will get done and follow it.”
On the downside, it can get lonely working solo: “Sometimes I want to talk to someone. But there’s no one around me like in the office.”
Another drawback is that income can be inconsistent. Freelance salespersons get higher commission than in-house salespersons as they have no job security, no salary, no benefits and take up no office space. Hence, while salespersons on staff earn commissions between 5-15% depending on the industry, 25-30% commission is typical for freelancers.
“A friend of mine is a sales freelancer and is doing well due to her large customer base. But I don’t have that many,” she says. Her family and friends also doubted her choice.
“If being a freelance isn’t what I expected, then I’ll go back to working fulltime. There will always be a job for me,” she told us on our last meeting. In fact,
her plan paid off sooner than expected.
A few days after we spoke, she had indeed accepted a new job as an associate editor at ScandAsia, thereby fulfilling her original plan to transition from sales to writing.
“Being a freelancer gave me the courage to follow my passion sooner. Now, I’m thinking about saving money to start my dream business as a publisher.”
Sirichai Kamrat, 37, studied animal science, gaining a master degree in the same field. He then worked at a pharmaceutical chemistry company for a couple years until one morning, he snapped and quit. He traded his B60,000 salary for a B15,000 one at California Fitness, working as a trainer, just because he loved working out. Then, three years ago, he quit California Fitness to go freelance.
“I didn’t want to wait until the dead end comes,” Sirichai says. “I felt awkward being part of the team. The policies weren’t going to work for the long term system so I just figured it’s better to quit before everything goes downhill.”
Sirichai had always loved sports, but just didn’t think he could make a career out of it. “I was on the rugby team at my high school. But I can play any kind of sports, from basketball and football to tennis and golf. But there’s no money in it in Thailand. So I thought that it’s better to study and try to do something else to make money.”
Soon, the temptation to go back to his passion for sports proved too tempting, though. “I thought it would be great if my passion could make me money, too,” says Sirichai. Apart from the training course at California Fitness, Sirichai paid B27,000 for a course that paved his way to an international fitness instructor certificate from The American Council on Exercise (ACE). He also went to a lot of courses to broaden his skills.
Then word of mouth eventually began to spread, and new clients introduced him to their friends. Today, he makes B120,000 a month, charging B900-B1,000 per hour. Not that his lifestyle has changed that much. “I don’t drink, don’t shop, don’t hang-out. I still use a motorcycle to get around Bangkok because it’s fast and cheap. I can spend about B200 a day because of it.”
For Sirichai, the reason his clients love him is that he is strict and punctual. “My clients are business owners so their time is valuable. They love punctuality. If you’re late, they’re wasting time they could spend making money. And I lose my reputation.”
Sirichai now dreams of opening a small fitness center or a sports campus where he wants to train athletes to be world-class champions. And it all started with quitting his job: “Being a freelancer helps push you forward. Though you can’t achieve your goal right away, at least you’re getting closer to it. I love to win and I know how to train you to be a winner.”
Contact Sirichai at 083-090-2004.
Natsaran “Jay-Jay” Deeprasert, 35, never planned on being a freelancer. But he did have a problem. He worked in public relations at a media agency, on yearly contracts, and wasn’t getting any advancement.
“Public relations is the last step in the marketing process. People only recognize its importance when they need immediate feedback,” he says. “It costs money, but it has the biggest pay-off.”
To move his career forward, Natsaran was looking for a full-time position in the field of property. That’s when an old client from the agency rang him up with a job. That was three years ago and he’s never looked back, getting a constant stream of jobs through word of mouth ever since.
“Being honest is important as a freelancer. I can tell clients right away what they can or can’t get—and the same goes for the press. The press feels that freelancers are more independent, and therefore more open [than in-house PRs].”
The downsides? A lack of office in the CBD, for one. Instead, Natsaran relies on his smartphone, and even sends and receives faxes online. But connectivity, too, is not without its drawbacks: “I can work and be easily reached anytime, anywhere. And most people, whether they are customers or friends, expect a freelancer to have more free time than an employee. So even when I’m at home, I have to dress up like it’s a day at the office. I have to be ready in case a client needs to see me immediately.”
A quirk of the profession is that Natsaran says freelance PRs actually help each other out. “We share information and even jobs if we feel it’s in a colleague’s area of expertise and would be better suited to them. I’ve passed on B200,000 PR jobs to take on B15,000 ones, just because I had a crush for that particular project,” he says.
Despite an easy start, Natsaran went through a rough patch last year, during the flood. Public relations were put on hold everywhere, but he pulled through thanks to his savings. Natsaran doesn’t plan on freelancing forever, though. He plans on getting a full-time position again but “only if I get a good offer,” he says.
Meanwhile, he plans on giving some official shape to this loose band of freelance PRs—and continue his development on the job. “Being a freelancer, you get to know your real potential. You find out that you can do things beyond what you thought were your limits, and that you could take on the most challenging jobs.”
Contact Natsaran at 080-064-5464 or [email protected]
Can a freelance career survive bombs, gunfire and a flood? It seems the answer is no (at least for now), although this newly re-employed freelancer doesn’t regret the adventure.
Full disclaimer: Nuttaporn Srisirirungsimakul, 30, used to work at BK Magazine, as a senior writer overseeing the dining section then as a features editor. But while we sorely miss her sharp reviews (she had zero patience for bad Thai food—or music), Nuttaporn’s career extends well beyond the realm of BK. She began her work life at the Bangkok Post, and went on to Thai Airways’ Sawasdee Magazine. While freelancing is a pretty typical mode of operation for writers, Nuttaporn never chose to do so. But in the wake of the 2010 political upheaval, her life was suddenly turned upside down.
With red shirt protesters occupying the heart of the central business district, including stretches of Rama 4 where her office was situated, getting to work became impossible. When bombs and gunfire erupted on the streets, her employers, based in Dubai, decided to pull out of Thailand entirely. They promised employees three months compensation and packed up.
“No one got that money,” says Nuttaporn. “It’s hard to chase them for the money because they fled back to their country. It’s beyond our ability to try to get the money now.”
But her large network of friends in the industry immediately began throwing jobs her way. Soon Elle, Bangkok Post and BK Magazine were commissioning her for jobs ranging from B5,000-50,000. Still, she recalls those times as tough. “Sometimes I only had B2,500 in my bank account to survive until the next job came along,” she says.
Freelancing was beginning to grow on her, though. “I liked it! It’s so free. I can manage my life and my schedule any way I want. It’s like, ‘I’m going to work today’ or ‘I will go out shopping for a whole day even though it’s a weekday.’”
And she was soon also making a good living again. “I even had enough money and time to travel to places that I had wanted to go to for a long time, like Japan and India. It was such a great time.”
Another benefit is that Nut is a homebody, and could spend more time with her family. “Going out means you have to spend money so it’s better to stay home and save money. My mom also loves that I can be with her more. She’s totally fine with the fact that I am a freelancer.”
Then the flood hit. Nuttaporn lives in Nonthaburi, and her home (she lives with her brother and her mother) was severely damaged by the flood. “We need money to fix the house,” she says. “But I am a freelancer so I’m not qualified to ask for a loan from banks. And my mom will retire from her work next year. So I started looking for a full-time job.”
Nuttaporn had just taken a full-time job at a big oil and gas company when we spoke to her, working in the public relations department. “Going back to working office hours again isn’t easy. I have to wake up at 5am every morning to be at my workplace before 7:30am. I get home and I pass out at 9pm every night, now.”
Would she ever do it all over again? “I like the security that my employer gives me but if I can be freelance again, I will go for it.”
Jean-Francois Cousin was a vice president at Lafarge, a multinational construction material company headquartered in France. For over 15 years, he enjoyed all the perks of being an expat in Asia, but then he decided to quit it all.
“I questioned myself when I was 40 years old. I asked myself what I want to do with my life for the next 10 years. When I reflected about what I had enjoyed the most so far in my career, it was clearly developing my team members’ talents. That’s why becoming an executive coach was a passion of mine. I help my clients unleash their talents, reconsider their boundaries and bring greater balance between their private and professional lives.”
In just three years, Cousin has coached executives from leading brands like Unilever, Mazda, HSBC, DHL or Hermes. Today, he says he’s coached 300 executives from 60 companies. “I had worked in Asia for more than 10 years, so I had a good network of country managers at multinational companies in Thailand and Singapore. I’m lucky I got help from them in the first year.”
When asked if it takes courage to go freelance, Cousin says passion is more important. “It fuels you with the energy and confidence to get past obstacles.” But Cousin also had a solid plan to back up his venture. He had saved up money for his family to get by for at least two years in case his freelance dreams did not pan out. “Not having to worry about money also gives you the confidence to make people trust in your ability and be willing to do business with you.” Today, Cousin says he makes 30% more than in his previous job, charging B50,000-B200,000 per course, and that he is much happier.
Cousin does warn of pursuing a dream out of passion alone: “You can’t just say, ‘Oh…I want to open a restaurant because I love to take care of people.’ That is crazy. It’s a dangerous thing to do at this age [in your 40s]. You must develop a fully-fledged business plan, especially the cash flow part, and then gather reasonable worst-case assumptions and write the pessimistic business plan. You need to complete a master plan before hitting the road and double check the reality.”
Another thing that Cousin underlines is that you have to expect that being a freelancer means you have to work very hard. Sometimes it might be harder than your previous job. “Having high standards, a positive mindset and not being afraid of failure are key to your survival,” Cousin says.
“The life of a freelance entrepreneur may seem glamorous when people look at it from a distance, but successful freelancers will all tell you that they have worked very hard to achieve their dream.”
Contact Jean-Francois Cousin at www.executive-coach-thailand.com
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I always wanted to be an artist ever since I was a teenager. My parents were afraid that I would get into an art school so they tricked me into going to the US for a short trip and ended up leaving me with a host family in Illinois.
I was a little shocked at first but I had lots of fun there. I even hosted a party where all the teenagers in town came and destroyed everything in the house while my guardians were out of town. I ran away to New York in the morning before they came back home.
I finally came back to clean up the mess and took a cut from my allowance in order to fix the house. Anyways, I got this reputation for being the guy who threw the coolest party in town.
Being a patron for the arts is better than being an artist. I realized that when I studied business in university. I’ve been collecting art ever since.
It was really hard to take over my family’s empire, because we had huge debts from lawsuits. My dad was sued by his friend who was his business partner at Narai Hotel.
When close friends fight, it’s always hard to reconcile them. The partner demanded I bend down on my knees and ask for forgiveness for what my father had done. I did and later sold all stakes of the hotel to him.
You can make a decision easily when you have made a promise. My dad was dying from cancer of the gallbladder when he made me promise to take care of the family as well as he had. And I have always kept that promise.
It’s better to stumble alone than to drag others down with you. I paid off all the debts on my estate’s share so my siblings wouldn’t have any problems paying it off.
The biggest problem with business people is their egos. Many leading businessmen in Thailand have failed because they hold their ego above the survival of their business.
Let the boxers of the same weight fight each other. That’s why I sold Dtac to Telenor Group seven years ago. I learned that AIS would sell Shin Corp. to Singtel Group, the leading mobile company in Asia, and there was no way we could win over that regional player. But now I’ve bought some shares back.
Everything has a starting point. Nearly 30 years ago, I wanted to use a mobile phone in Thailand so I decided to import mobile phones and established the mobile network [TAC] to support it. Now we have more than 80 million mobile numbers in Thailand.
Art museums also need someone to start them. If the government isn’t ready for an art museum, then why can’t I just make one? If others want to open museums like me, that’s exactly What I want to do, widen the appeal of arts.
I don’t want people to remember me as the guy who founded Dtac or the guy who had a big fight with the government about mobile networks. It’s not a nice picture.
I want to be remembered as a delicate man who admires the beauty of art and gives back to society as a philanthropist.
Creating beauty is harder than destroying it. It takes years to create a beautiful art piece but it takes just a minute to destroy it. We need to support those who create beautiful things in the world.
My parents are my biggest inspiration. They are my business and life teachers. When I came back from the US, my dad sent me out to be an insurance salesman. It taught me so much about life and how to persuade people to believe in what you’re doing.
The king devoted the best 60 years of his life to the people and that has inspired me to give back, too.
I can’t imagine any other place on earth that I’d want to live in other than Thailand. I have friends, food and Chatujak Market. This is our home.
Don’t put personal benefit ahead of charity. I put a hundred million baht into creating the Rakbankerd Foundation 15 years ago to strengthen our agriculture industry. Our objective is to cut out the middle man.
I am like a snake antivenom for farmers, protecting them from the poison of this capitalistic world. Our farmers are losing out to everyone, and it’s weakening the system. I’m trying to make Rakbankerd successful as quickly as possible, as I know capitalism well. If it’s successful, it will be my biggest achievement.
Money can bring happiness only if you know how to spend it on what can bring you true, lasting happiness.
I’m not a playboy. People always depict me as having many wives but I’m still broken-hearted, waiting around for this one woman who left me.
Love is the biggest threat to artists like me. It can destroy your life.
Visit MOCA website at www.mocabangkok.com
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