The Show

The gallery was off soi 31 Sukhumvit road. Chris Coles was both showing his art and launching his new book negotiating the Bangkok noir. Make no bones about it. Chris Coles is a brilliant artist who owing to some strange twist of fate or more likely a succession of badgering emails from myself let me use his painting soi dog number 1 for the cover of my first novel. A novel that by New York standards was duck soup, but one that my Bangkok publishers still pump out both electronically and unethically every day. The painting in question was there on display, but a tad out of my price range. Chris’ book is a beautifully put together piece of art that no Bangkok coffee table should be without. Hey, it’s almost essential. Like coffee. And tables. Expressionist paintings of the Bangkok noir bar-scene. Go-go-dancers and mangy dogs. Who wouldn’t be interested in spilling their cappuccino on something like that?



Walking up to the entrance of the gallery I saw a figure instantly recognizable from my book collection. The Canadian wordsmith, writer of brilliant stories, photographer of book covers, creator of blurbs, seller of film rights and the speaker of podcasts. Christopher G. Moore stood regally at the door. I shuffled past him like a naughty school boy, bowing my head, as only Thai’s and young Bangkok writers can. I ducked under his right shoulder and walked into the gallery proper to get a good butchers at the pictures. We’d both (Moore and I) used Chris’ paintings for covers of our books and he had sold a truck-load more than I had. Mostly to people in Germany and Bulgaria.



Brother, this work was good. The art work. Before I could reach the upper level I was collared by a journalist who had once worked for the New York Post but was now a lowly freelancer in Bangkok. Perhaps mistaking me for an imposter she asked who I was and why I was there. Being used to freelancers I spoke the truth. Told her my name and that I was there because the artist painted the cover of one of my books. Panic over, In a heartbeat she whipped out a notepad and hustled me into a corner and pumped me for free information. After pumping we smoked a cigarette and spoke briefly about my work . As I say, she used to work for the New York Post.



Then I met Chris Coles, who I’d been in electronic contact with for a few years. Dazzling eyes and a quick mouth that immediately explained why Arabs chop lady-boys – It’s a religious thing – he told me. Chris is a man impossible to dislike. This is a man who knows the Bangkok bar-scene upside-down and back-to-front. At one point the expressionist explained that there are only four bars in Soi Cowboy. A noted author from the Asia books dynasty dressed for the occasion in a pyjama-suit begged to differ. ‘I mean bars that make money,’ Chris retorted. ‘The man is amazing,’ so said a buying visiting attorney. ‘The only man who can walk into a go-go-bar full of beautiful women and say “look at the strobe light, look at the colour, the light is amazing...”’



They don’t make them like that too often. Thank god. Chris’ show is open for the rest of the month. It’s on Soi 31, Sukhumvit, Bangkok. Go see it. Please. I have a tuk-tuk tout style deal going on. I bring in enough customers and Coles gives me a painting after we’ve had the soapy massage and bought the fake gems... good idea, na?

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You can visit the author at http://jamesnewmanfiction.blogspot.com/