EMKP grantee Tristram Riley-Smith (Sainsbury Research Unit, University of East Anglia) returns to Thailand after 40+ years. He re-connects with traditional foundries of Chiang Mai as well as the monastery of Wat Chang (where – in 1984 – he filmed days of rituals and craftsmanship surrounding the casting of the community’s Paramount Buddha).

 

A large golden buddha sits, cross legged, with their left hand in their lap, and their right hand resting on their right knee. An orange sash is draped over their left shoulder. In front of the buddha, someone has left flower offerings and a smaller, silver buddha.

Vipassi, The Paramount Buddha enshrined in Wat Chang’s Ordination Hall, Tristram Riley-Smith, 20 January 2026.

 

In 1984, as a young Anthropologist of Art researching the traditional casting of metal sculpture, I was privileged to witness the three-day festival surrounding the creation of a “Paramount Buddha” in Wat Chang – an isolated monastery linked to the farming community of Tha Mai, in the heart of rural Thailand.

This led to the creation of my film The Birth of a Buddha, which featured in the British Museum’s Buddhism – Art and Faith exhibition in 1985, and which has (since then) been available online via The Meridian Trust’s Buddhist Film Resource. [This film represents a key component in the EMKP archive that I am now building.]

The day before that festival began, in March 1984, I went to introduce myself to the Abbot of Wat Chang with my Research Assistant (Chairat Bunnag) and my wife (Louisa), seeking his permission for us to attend the event. This is how my fieldnotes describe the journey, from the market-town of Chum Saeng after we had crossed the river by ferry:

Climbing from the riverbank, we are met by three motorcyclists who act as taxi drivers in the area. They will take us to Wat Chang, wait for us and return for 45 baht each.

We set off northward beside the river for a while passing a cable trolley transporting travellers and their loads across the stream and to our left a large wat which appears empty. Then we are among fields moving westward away from the brown, fast-flowing River Ping, riding on irrigation banks or down dirt tracks with ruts about which we have to manoeuvre. At other times, the track is quite smooth and we pick up speed to 40 km per hour and wraiths of dust wreathe the wheels or stream out to smother those riding behind.

After 20 minutes, the joy of riding in the open air – clean country air despite the dust motes and clear views – we enter a grove of trees passing stilt-high houses and even a health-care quarters. Then we arrive at a second river, perhaps less broad than the Ping, with slower, greener waters and gentle green banks to it. Opposite stands Wat Chang, an orange temple roof glimpsed through trees, a concrete pier rising high up above the water’s level, and an emblematic white concrete elephant standing beside the gateway.

For the occasion, a bridge of bamboo and planks has been constructed just above the surface of the river and failing to meet in the middle, presumably because the bed below is too deep or more likely to allow the flow of river traffic. Instead, a boat has been tied to the two bridge ends, and a little dek wat – “child of the monastery” – guides the boat back and forth for the visitors.

We go to the abbot’s quarters, and make our three bows (kneeling, hands on ground, head to hands, then lift torso and hands to face in a wai, thrice), and introduce ourselves. He is very welcoming, offers us rose-flavoured water, and is willing to answer questions.

My detailed, hand-written, account of that visit (over 25 pages) will be included in my EMKP archive (transcribed into English and Thai to help those searching for specific details).

 

A picture of page 56 of an old, lined notebook. In blue ink, the title says 'WAT CHANG - An upscaled plan of the wat', and underneath is a blueprint of a temple, handdrawn.

Plan of Site of Casting of Paramount Buddha, scan of Tristram Riley-Smith’s field-notes from 1 March 1984, Tristram Riley-Smith, 2026.

 

Forty years on, in January 2026, I returned to Thailand as an EMKP “Legacy Grantee”.

I had already digitized film footage, photographs and field-notes from that 1984 trip. The aim now was to augment that historical record by conducting interviews with the last of the craftsmen who create metal Buddha images using those traditional methods. This goal has been achieved thanks to the impressive support and planning provided by my Co-Applicant (Professor Pitchaya Soomjinda, known as Kratik) and my Research Assistant, Dr Peerapat Ouysook (known as Earth).

There is more work to be done before the world-wide-web will have access to our indexed archive. But one early dividend has been realised, thanks to EMKP’s strong emphasis on Community Engagement. 

In the northern city of Chiang Mai, I met the descendants of family foundries that I had visited when conducting a rapid survey of traditional metal-working sites in the country. We showed them my photographs and film from that trip and read out extracts from my Field-Notes (translated into Thai) that described my observations. All the artists that we met on our return to Chiang Mai welcomed us into their homes, and they all spotted relatives – brothers, uncles, fathers, grandfathers – in the material that we shared with them. But it was a particular delight when Noi Chantharat recognised her younger self applying sheets of wax to the clay core of a Buddha.

Vintage, colour picture of a young woman applying wax to a Buddha core. She is wearing a blue and white stripey t-shirt.

Super-8 film still, Chan Chantharat Foundry, Tristram Riley-Smith, 12 March 1984.

A black and white image of three people gathered around a laptop balanced on a chair in an outdoor workshop. On the left, a young woman is listening as an older woman on her left points past her to the laptop. To the older woman's left, a young man in glasses scribbles something on a notepad.

Noi Chantharat spots herself (see left image) applying wax to Buddha core in film-footage from 1984, Nui Chantharat Foundry, Tristram Riley-Smith, 24 January 2026.

On a more sombre note, we learn from these encounters that none of the next generation will be continuing the craft: industrial batch-processing techniques, economies of scale, and the hard graft associated with artisanal work are combining (with other factors) to bring this tradition to an end.

Our return to Wat Chang was to prove even more rewarding. This was partly because we were connecting to a wider community (represented by the monks of the monastery and the householders of Tha Mai and the extended region). But our outreach was especially significant because we could reveal to that community a rare and endangered record of the making of their Paramount Buddha – the life-size figure that has overseen the ordination of monks into the wat for decades. In contrast to the monastic traditions of the West, it is a common rite of passage for each household to send sons to be ordained and to spend some time in the monastery.

It was a very different journey to the monastery compared to that precarious expedition in 1984, when we had ridden pillion through the paddy fields and wobbled across a rickety, half-constructed footbridge. Now we arrived in the comfort of a climate-controlled mini-bus, driving along a metalled highway and across the sturdy Wat Chang Bridge that takes traffic over the river less than 1,000 feet from the monastery. Concrete has replaced pounded earth in the monastic grounds, and we held our Community Engagement event in a substantial air-conditioned Sermon Hall that far-removed from the simple, open-sided structure seen in our last visit.

We produced display boards carrying pictures of both the Buddha-casting and the villagers; and arranged for a projector to run all the uncut Super-8 footage from my 1984 visit on a loop (now digitized, thanks to EMKP). This generated great interest as villagers gathered to look out for their relatives and friends: a palpable frisson of excitement ran through the room as characters from the past were recognised – such as Great Uncle Chua, aged over 80 in 1984 and the Head of the Laymen’s Association that had organised the event. My footage also confirmed stories villagers have told themselves over the years about households donating precious metal vessels to be melted down and incorporated into the body of their Buddha: we could see these being thrown into the furnace by the foundrymen.

A picture of an older man showing other people some vintage photos in a community hall.

A picture of a group of people watching a projection of old film footage onto a whiteboard.

Tristram shows pictures (left) and villagers watching film-footage (right) from 1984 casting of Wat Chang’s Buddha. Photos from Wat Chang / Tha Mai Community Engagement Day, Pitchaya Soomjinda, 22 January 2026.

 

In the best traditions of Thailand, our Community Engagement included ritual elements (with candles lit, and symbolic offerings of light and water to Lord Buddha and the wider universe of spirits); religious elements (with prayers, chanting and a sermon); and a social aspect, focused on a feast for the community (produced by volunteers from the village). Thais place the highest premium on the variety, complexity and quality of their dishes, and our Wat Chang feast was no exception: there was Tom Yum Soup, fried river fish, tod man pla (Thai fish cakes), nam phrik kapi with mackerel, minced pork, snow peas, steamed rice and khanom chin (fermented rice noodles). Coconuts were chopped open to provide refreshing coconut water to drink straight from the fruit.

Afterwards, we invited householders to be interviewed on camera, sharing their memories and reflecting on the significance of their Paramount Buddha (which, we learnt, carries the name Vipassi). We heard, for instance, from the village school-master, who recalled being present – as a young man – when the clay mould was broken open to reveal the newly-cast bronze Buddha inside; one of his friends ran off with a discarded shard of metal: when falling ill soon afterwards, he was convinced this was punishment for absconding with this powerful material.

Stories like this left us with a strong sense of the intangible knowledge associated with traditional Buddha-casting. Religious concepts and folk beliefs surround the process (exemplified by householders bringing precious metal vessels to be melted down and integrated into the body of their Buddha); and there was a strong sense that the communal celebrations that had proceeded over many days in 1984 – marking the different stages of Buddha-making – promoted social cohesion and identity in a way that no modern, industrialised process could replicate.

Our visit also revealed the great respect that all villagers held for Prapas Passaro Bikkhu (known as Ajahn Thong): he was the Abbot who had presided over the events of 1984, and who had welcomed us so warmly when we made that first journey to introduce ourselves. It was clear from interviews and conversations at our Community Engagement Day that he was regarded as a man of spiritual authority and great charisma: he had played a significant part in overseeing the casting of that Buddha, putting himself in harm’s way as he stood on a platform, high above the ground, to consecrate the molten metal as it flowed into the mould.

Ajahn Thong had, of course, left the monastery many decades before; and – not unusually for a Thai monk – we learned that he had married late in life. We were then thrilled and surprised to discover that he is still alive, residing 35 miles away in a simple house outside the town of Phichit. He was recovering from a stroke, but through intermediaries we established that he was well enough to receive visitors: so, we had the honour and pleasure of travelling to meet him, to show him film and photographs that he had never seen before.

A picture of a Thai buddhist monk praying in front of a kiln.

Super-8 film still, Wat Chang, Pitchaya Soomjinda, 3 March 1984.

An older couple look at the laptop of a younger man with interest.

Ajahn Thong’s home, Pichit, Pitchaya Soomjinda, 21 January 2026.

Ajahn Thong prays before baking Buddha mould (left image) and looks at legacy footage with wife and Earth (right image).

 

There were, in conclusion, notable benefits in reaching out to re-establish contact with the foundries of Chiang Mai, the villagers of Tha Mai, and the monks and abbots of Wat Chang. I was able to demonstrate my respect and gratitude to these communities for showing such generosity of spirit in making me feel so welcome in 1984. I am open to criticism for not making the effort to do this before (with a career that took me down a very different path). EMKP’s Legacy Programme has given me the chance to make amends!

In the process, I have made a small but substantive difference to the lives of these people : beyond the short-term entertainment that came from showing them those images from their past, all this material has been made available to them, with copies of all the uncut rushes from my films being delivered to both the school-master and the local historian serving the community at Wat Chang.

I was also able to meet an ethical commitment, in securing retrospective approval for filming those communities 40 years’ ago (from an era when anthropologists like me operated with less formality or proper sensitivity). In 1984, Ajahn Thong had made an announcement over the Tannoy at his monastery, inviting all members of the community to make us welcome and answer our questions; now he has followed that up in writing!

At the end of our Community Engagement Day at Wat Chang, I was invited to have my photograph taken with the villagers who had worked in the kitchens preparing our meal. They encouraged me to raise my right hand with thumb and forefinger crossed together.

 

A group of people stand in front of a buddhist temple, making heart signs at the camera using their thumbs and forefingers.

Householders of Tha Mai bid farewell to Tristram at the end of our Community Engagement Day. (The monastery’s Paramount Buddha resides in the temple behind). Wat Chang, Pitchaya Soomjinda, 22 January 2026.

 

This was not, as I initially thought, invoking the conventional Western money gesture (as in Pay Up!). For the Thais, this represents the heart and is a sign of amity and friendship. Could there be a more powerful emblem of Community Engagement than that!