It started at a long wooden table.
Plate I · Ongcor Wat · Illustrated London News, 1868
Our two boys went along to one of the free art classes that run down the road from us. They came home with a Hanuman each, still tacky, and by the next morning they wanted another one.
There wasn’t another one. Not in the market, not in the shops off Pub Street, not online. We looked properly, for about a week, and found nothing you could buy and paint. Which is a strange thing to discover about a face that half of Asia grows up with.
So we made one.
The first mould came out soft and went in the bin. The second was worse. Sotharith got the third one right and we are still pouring from it. Somewhere around the sixth or seventh casting it stopped being a project for the kids and started being a company, which nobody in the house had planned for that month.
Once we had Hanuman we started reading about everybody else’s. Japan has Hannya, the jealous one. Korea has Hahoe, carved with a jaw that moves. Bali has Barong. Mexico has two different answers depending on which century you ask about. Eight to begin with, one at a time, in whatever order we can do them properly.
That is roughly one a season, and we are aware how slow it sounds. It is the pace a small workshop can hold without the quality slipping, so it is the pace we keep.
With love, the editors
















