Last Updated on June 15, 2026 by Cliche
Somewhere on every set Riw Rakkulchon designs, there is a bird’s nest.
Most audiences never notice it. Hidden among architectural details, scenery, shadows, or stage machinery, the small nest has become a personal ritual—an easter egg quietly connecting productions that otherwise appear radically different from one another.
It is an unexpectedly revealing detail. Over the course of a career that has taken them from Thailand to some of America’s most respected stages, Riw Rakkulchon has become known not for a single visual signature but for an unusual ability to reinvent their artistic language from project to project. A Shakespeare production may look entirely different from a contemporary drama. A large-scale musical may bear little resemblance to an intimate play. Yet beneath those differences lies a consistent philosophy: a belief that space itself can tell a story.
For scenic designer Riw Rakkulchon, a stage is never simply a place where a story unfolds. It is a space where memory, identity, history, and human connection can be experienced together.
“What distinguishes my work is the way I approach scenography as an active relationship between space, actors, and audience rather than as a static backdrop,” Rakkulchon explains. “I am interested in creating environments that carry emotional and cultural resonance.”
That philosophy has guided a career marked by remarkable versatility. Following an MFA in Theatre Design from Yale University, where they received the prestigious Donald and Zorka Oenslager Fellowship in Design, Rakkulchon has created scenic environments for institutions including Berkeley Repertory Theatre, Hartford Stage, The Public Theater, Cleveland Play House, Audible Theater, Commonwealth Shakespeare Company, The Old Globe, and many others.
Yet success alone does not explain the distinctive quality of the work. To understand that, it helps to begin much earlier.
Born and raised in Thailand before building part of their career in the United States, Rakkulchon developed a heightened awareness of the ways stories can carry ideas that are sometimes difficult to express directly. That experience continues to shape their understanding of theatre and the role design can play within society.
“I became interested in how storytelling, symbolism, and design can create space for reflection and dialogue when direct conversation is not always possible,” they say.
Rather than viewing scenic design as decoration, Rakkulchon sees it as a framework for human experience. Their work is rooted in the belief that theatre can encourage empathy, curiosity, and critical thought—not by telling audiences what to think, but by creating environments where meaningful encounters become possible.
“Theatre allows people to explore complex ideas through human stories,” they explain. “I am deeply interested in the power of scenography to support those conversations.”
This perspective has only deepened through years of working within the diverse artistic landscape of the United States. Exposure to different cultures, histories, and communities has reinforced their belief that theatre can function as a space for public dialogue and collective reflection.
Perhaps what is most striking about Rakkulchon’s practice is a deliberate refusal to cultivate a recognizable aesthetic brand.
In an era where artists are often encouraged to develop a signature look, Rakkulchon has pursued the opposite path.
Some productions embrace hyper-realism, immersing audiences in richly detailed worlds. Others are more gestural and poetic, relying on suggestion rather than literal representation. Rather than pursuing a recognizable visual style, Rakkulchon prefers to develop a unique spatial language for each project.
“I try to develop a unique language for every production, allowing the design to emerge from the specific story rather than imposing a style onto it.”
That commitment to constant exploration can be seen throughout a body of work that ranges from Shakespeare and classical texts to contemporary drama, immersive productions, public performances, and large-scale musicals. While the visual vocabulary may change, the underlying objective remains remarkably consistent: creating spaces that actively participate in storytelling rather than merely framing it.
One of the clearest examples of this philosophy can be found in Mexodus, the acclaimed live-loop musical created by Brian Quijada and Nygel D. Robinson. The production explores the little-known history of Black Americans who fled the United States for Mexico in pursuit of freedom after the Civil War. Drawn to the show’s themes of migration, resilience, identity, and self-determination, Rakkulchon found a project that aligned closely with their own interests in storytelling and social history.
“The themes of migration and the search for freedom resonate across cultures and time periods,” they explain. “As someone who has lived and worked between different countries, I found those ideas especially meaningful.”
Mexodus also presented one of the most unusual design challenges of Rakkulchon’s career. Built around a live-loop musical structure, the production required the scenic environment to function not only as a setting but as part of the performance apparatus itself.
“The set could not simply be a place where the story happened—it had to become part of the musical instrument itself.”
Rather than creating a literal reconstruction of nineteenth-century Texas or Mexico, Rakkulchon designed a space capable of holding multiple layers simultaneously: memory and history, past and present, architecture and music. The result exemplified a broader artistic ambition to create environments that operate on both practical and metaphorical levels, allowing audiences to experience history as something alive and unfolding before them.
Yet even as their profile continues to grow, Rakkulchon remains more interested in future possibilities than past achievements.
One upcoming project that particularly excites them is a new adaptation of Dracula at Hartford Stage. Unlike traditional versions of Bram Stoker’s classic tale, Morgan Lloyd Malcolm’s adaptation reimagines the story through a contemporary lens, opening new possibilities for theatrical transformation, illusion, and stage magic.
“Theatre is one of the few art forms where audiences willingly suspend disbelief and experience something impossible happening right in front of them,” Rakkulchon says.
For the designer, the production offers opportunities to create a world where characters appear and disappear, shadows take on a life of their own, and the boundaries between reality and nightmare constantly shift.
“The audience should never quite know where a character might emerge from next or whether what they are seeing is real or imagined.”
That fascination with transformation remains central to Rakkulchon’s artistic vision. Whether designing a musical, a Shakespeare production, a contemporary drama, or a new theatrical experiment, they continue to pursue work that is visually inventive while remaining deeply rooted in human experience.
“I want to keep challenging myself with work that feels both visually inventive and emotionally grounded,” they say.
Ultimately, what distinguishes Riw Rakkulchon is not a particular style but a particular way of seeing. Their work reminds us that design is not merely about constructing scenery. It is about building worlds—spaces where stories can unfold honestly, where audiences can encounter unfamiliar perspectives, and where human connection becomes possible.
And somewhere within those worlds, hidden in plain sight, there is always a small bird’s nest. Most audiences never notice it. Yet it quietly captures something essential about Rakkulchon’s work. A nest is both a shelter and an act of faith. It is built, abandoned, rebuilt, and adapted. It carries ideas of migration, resilience, and renewal—of creating a home wherever one finds oneself.
In many ways, that spirit runs throughout Rakkulchon’s career. From Thailand to the United States, from intimate dramas to large-scale musicals, from hyper-realistic environments to poetic abstractions, their work reflects a continual process of reinvention while remaining rooted in the same commitment to storytelling and human connection.
Whether exploring questions of identity, freedom, memory, or transformation, Rakkulchon creates spaces where stories can be rebuilt and rediscovered.
A reminder that every story needs a place to land—and sometimes, a place from which to begin again.”
Read more interviews at ClichéMag.com
Images provided by headshots by JKLphoto, Austin Ruffer and Zach Bailey
