Our Father

Walked into the act3 (theatrics) office today and it felt like I was walking into some major flea market. The place was overflowing with props, backdrops and costumes. There was barely walking room; the light trying to come in through the windows fell unsuccessfully on some black boxes and got absorbed at once, the laundry basket had been pushed right next to the shoe rack, which, by account of the weekend, was about the only place that could claim to be empty. (relatively).

The reason for the mess? Now that NAC requires all companies putting up school assembly shows to audition before they can market their plays to schools, act3theatrics now has to get all six shows for next year's school tour ready by September for the auditions, which is crazy considering the immense detail that has to go into each production, script-wise, props-wise, costumes-wise -- and who's to say the actors who are free this year will be similarly free next year? The cast who auditions may not necessarily be the cast who performs, and not to mention the company pays the actors for the audition as well.

In all, this auditions business is rather unfeasible. Yes, possibly the rationale is to do some sort of quality control, but holding auditions a year before the actual show, and at such short notice at that, will do nothing but decrease the quality of the shows. (Well, I don't think my director will allow the production standard to drop, perfectionist that he is, but suddenly having to turn into a mass show-churning company will take much joy out of the whole creative process, I think.) With this new 'policy', only the larger companies with the resources (money, talents, continuously ingenuous backstage production team) will be able to survive at least this year's audition round, and new 'entrants' into the 'market' might be forced out even before they even start.

Anyway, how can the nice folks at NAC presume to know what the students might or might not like to watch? Based on the fact that they were kids once, a fact which I suppose most of them would be more than happy to forget, or maybe never remembered in the first place? Are the censors always going to decide what is and is not desirable for public consumption? Then again, the patriachal state will more or less breed a self-policing society - even the matrons at NYG boarding school are attempting to pull out the 'Urban' section of The Straits Times due to it's supposedly undesirable content which I think is laughable. (both the content and the action.)

This is such an embarrassingly incoherent post - I would like to blame it on the sleep deprivation of the past week because of the "Street Scenes" opera, but I think it has to do more with the fact that I see that the oppressive (disguised as paternal) hand of the government is everywhere and please don't tell me

"You mean it took you this long to realise it?"

As I've said before, I'm in denial about a lot of things, selective amnesia not included.

On a happier note, Chandran and Amy are getting married three months from now!

Patrizio Buanne

If you've heard of him, you're either very in the loop of musical things, very into Italy, or a regular listener of Gold 90.5. Being none of the above, it was only today when I went down to Grand Copthorne to play for a mysterious gig that I got to hear of him. Male, 26, Naples, sings oldies and Italian songs, 'Il Mombo' being the one that's supposedly on air now, and surprisingly he has a really good voice! He was actually singing live for the showcase, unlike the musicians who were only suppose to mime playing (which was fortunate because the scores were strangely difficult for gig pieces, but unfortunate in a way because it's virtually impossible to mime playing as there'll always be sound once the bow touches the string!)

The whole showcase was slightly reminiscent of Singapore Idol, minus the hordes of screaming fans. This was a very yuppie crowd who were enthusiastic with clapping but nothing more, lest they spoil their immaculately dressed image. Very gay crowd too. I was wondering if it has anything to do with music scene. It seems to be almost a habitual phenomenon.

It's fun to get paid for wasting time and not actually playing, but with all the readings and assignments piling up, it's a muted kind of joy at the end of the day. Strangely enough, I only played for this because another cellist doesn't have clothes to fit the dress code, namely a black skirt. Ironic huh.

in denial

So. I've finally decided to do major in Social Work, on the first day of the semester. A rather bad time to decide, especially since I've done 5 modules of Sociology and only 3 modules of Social Work, but as I told someone today, I've been in denial for most of my life, I suppose it's time for me to finally do what I'm supposed to do, even if every part of my being is resisting the idea.

It's strange, how feeling can become knowledge. You feel something is right and you do it, as opposed to knowing something is right and doing it. Is feeling any weaker than knowing? Presumably so, but after last semester's module on emotions and social life, I realised that much of decision making is based on/guided by emotions, or the expectation of certain emotions that accompany one's decisions. Lacking the ability to feel would make one akin to a modern Phineas Gage, a man whose amygdala (the brain's emotional control center) was ejected by a railroad spike, and who forever lost the ability to feel and hence made irrational decisions.

I would think this social work major thing is quite an irrational decision, although that would be my self in denial speaking. It was not so much a sudden realisation but a sudden resignation to comfort. Having said that, I'm so much more at peace with everything now that I've finally accepted (no matter how unwillingly) my destiny.

Ok let's do away with the drama. I shall try to take this seriously.

Rant of a figuratively starving musician

Recently THE quartet wanted to busk before we went back to school but we realised that we have to apply for things called endorsement
letters from NAC which involves forms and auditions. And the website
said something along the lines of 'Now you don't require licenses just
endorsement letters.' (What's the difference right?!) It isn't a
surprise that you don't get many people busking in town - either you
get chased away by the really fierce Malay guitarist along the
Wheelock Place underpass, get drowned out by the blind keyboardist,
and when you really get an endorsement letter to busk for charity,
there'll be some person who complains of noise pollution (in
Orchard?!) and sends two policemen along to check on us (it
happened.).

I think the Straits Times did a write up on busking recently, but I
think we cannot deny the fact that busking seems to be the territory
of the disabled with only a few exceptions. If the government, or
rather, NAC, really wants to 'help enliven the streets of Singapore
and to add colour to city life', the last thing you want to do is
regulate spontaneous urges to make music right? I suppose the
rationale for the audition is to ensure 'quality not quantity' but
that hasn't stopped the Californian amputee from striking a Chinese
gong with his feet at ten second intervals for a whole day. And what
about the dialect speaking old erhu player who probably can't read
English, much less fill up the application for the endorsement letter
anyway?

No wonder the saying 'laws are meant to be broken'. Not in a bad,
dissident-ish way, but when a simple thing like busking requires
endorsement which demands that the person in question has a certain
level of literacy in English, and whose music/act appeals to the
person auditioning him/her, it seems, ironically, rather elitist.
Interestingly enough, it seems to contradict one of the objectives of
the busking scheme, namely, to 'make the arts more accessible to the
public'. Is the general population not discerning enough to decide if
the music is worth parting with their money for? We're not even
delving into the taboo realm of forum theatre or inflammatory
political speeches - busking is the harmless territory of more often
than not physically incapacitated people seeking to get by in any way
they can.

I have no idea why I'm ranting on behalf of buskers, present or
would-bes, but I just don't believe the extent to which the government wants to exercise its control. Grrr. Of course, the plight of buskers can't compare to let's say the Andrew and Grace Home who have to raise close to $750 000 per year for their programmes (I think-- to the extent of my memory of what Andrew said the last time my social work group went there to visit). However I think the rights of buskers to be endorsement-letter free is still worth fighting for! (Though according to Charles Dickens the real pugilists are government officials 'always with a system to force down the general throat like a bolus'...)

Busking is a great, but still largely unused platform for local
musicians who want to showcase their stuff and/or earn enough money for the group to survive without having to eat kaya toast everyday (which isn't a bad idea at all.)

This isn't a very substantial argument, more like a huge grouse
against the system. No actually, I'm just giving my disused fingers
and brain a practical and harmless dose of overwork before I start
school in 3 days time

unscathed

At the Carrefour checkout counter, the cashier mumbled

"Go and collect your 'fri-ay' from the information counter."

I couldn't catch what she said but lumbered there with my cello. To my horror, I spotted a huge sign that read,

"Be among the first 500 hundred customers to spend $50 in a single receipt and get 40 free eggs!"

I wished I shared the enthusiasm of the sign.

My original purchase was small and light enough to squeeze into my bag but it didn't look like the forty eggs, in any packaging permutation, would be able to do likewise. Anyway it was too late to chicken out and so I had 2 plus kg worth of eggs dumped on me with a smile that challenged me to get the eggs home in one piece. The prospect of taking a bus home with the cello and eggs made me wish I had the ability to apparate.

Thank God the eggs survived. Now I have the dubious honour of literally 'putting food on the table'.

It's pathetic how I amuse myself.

reading list a.k.a how I spend/wasted my holidays

The Girl in the Picture by Denise Chong - The book is classified as Non-Fiction but isn't history a fictional construct of events? Other than that it's not bad at all, does quite a good job of setting Kim Phuc's story against Vietnam's rather tragic situation. I've stopped reading 7/8 into the book because it was getting a bit too depressing, and started on something a little less emotionally demanding,

*whispered*(Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince) - It feels as if you're watching a movie in your head. Harry screams less in this one, but is stil as generous with his Petrificus Totalus, Impedimenta and the newly found Septumsempra. It isn't any less depressing than the afore mentioned book, only that in this book, the depressing bits where (Dumbledore dies) is grossly marred by Rowling's very blatant attempts to milk tears out of her unsuspecting prepubescent readers. So it wasn't very nice. It was just a read-for-the-sake-of-reading thing. Lemony Snicket's a whole lot better.

The Body (and other stories) by Hanif Kureishi - I love his one liners. He combines the simplicity of Winterson and the sociological analysis of George Eliot, and isn't as tied down in cultural baggage like Shyam Selvadurai. Though I suppose it isn't very fair of me to compare writers like that. After all, everyone is 'unique' right?

The Rainbow by D.H Lawrence - Cloying. Embodies the essence (and context) of "Go forth and multiply". No wonder I took more than a year to get through the book.

Buffy and Philosophy - Very enlightening; I didn't know a girl with blond hair could generate so much academic interest.

And I've finally, finally, finished the Chronicles of Narnia by C.S Lewis which was great although after the first two books it got rather bland until The Last Battle. The Aslan bits are the most read-worthy, in general.

Presently, am ploughing through 'Blood Bread and Poetry' by Adrienne Rich (very dry except for the occasional essay;I'd rather read her poetry!) and 'A Fine Balance' by Rohinton Mistry; am putting off 'Art and Lies'by Jeanette Winterson to make sure I finish reading the two books. Please tell me this delayed gratification will pay off somehow.

Broken Wings by Mizeryfree

The process of listening to it was painful, and definitely not misery free. If i were a bird, I would break my wings first before listening to it again.

The tune was ok, if not a bit monotonous, the guitar 'riff' in the middle (if you call it a riff that is), sounded like an acoustic guitar trying to sound like an electric guitar, the vocals were so out of tune, didn't matter whether the singer was singing mid range or on the higher end of his range, which by the way, isn't much of a range to speak of.

Alright that's all for the very vicious rant, which I think is probably because I literally tumbled out of bed (Didn't even have the luxury to 'get up' on the wrong side of bed). They were played during Perfect 10's Non stop hits program (during which I really felt that they should have stopped the track or at least hit me into some sort of concussed stupor so I could classify the music as the white noise in my head, but no, it had to go on and on and on ad nauseum.)

Seriously, I don''t know why I'm feeling so much towards a song. (Ooh I'm actually feeling something for once!) I could have just as easily turned it off if I didn't want to listen to it, but no, what was really disturbing about that song was that the station played an intro jingle to the song which singled it out as being "Made in Singapore". And I don't think that the song does justice to local musicians at all. If I were a non-regular listener of radio music (which I am), that song would have put me off all local bands till kingdom come (during which we will thankfully all be spared from these unlistenable tunes, phew.)

I wasn't there for the School of Rock competition, I don't know what local bands sound like (except for Mizeryfree and maybe Ronin), but I just think Singapore is definitely capable of better sounding, or at least, in tune bands. Whining your way through a song trying to sound like a cross between Sylvester Sim and Simple Plan just isn't going to cut it.

I suppose this Miseryfree band is just starting out; perhaps they lack sufficient funding, so they don't have money to buy instruments or get enough studio time to practice, but that's really no excuse for poor music! (Maybe this is the reason why people say classical musicians are snobs/elitist etc but really, you have to listen to the song to know what I mean.) Then again, it won't be fair if I judge the band by just one song, although I seriously wonder how much better the other songs can be if only this one made it to a radio station.

That's all for now; now I can return to ironing my clothes with the radio off. I don't think I need anymore cranial stimulus. It's too tiring.

30-mins-after-post note: Alright I think I overreacted; to the band/friends of the band/ardent supporters,don't take it personally, it's solely a personal preference thing. :)

written in the stars

I have always wondered about peoples' fascination with astrology. The Bible forbids dabbling in it (though 'forbidding' has never really stopped anyone has it?), Shakespeare doesn't really believe in it - and to quote from 'Julius Caesar', everyone's favourite O Level text,

"Men at some time are masters of their fates: The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, But in ourselves, that we are underlings."
--William Shakespeare Julius Caesar I.ii.

Life! now has an astrology column, almost every magazine contains horoscope predictions - why, when so many people claim to read it with a pinch of salt, do they still bother?

In a recent meeting with a friend also known as the Late Night Astrologer, he expounded to some enlightening degree the known traits of people born under certain star signs, taking into consideration the ascendant and moon signs, and it wasn't too far from the truth. To put it less mildly, it was uncannily accurate.

Horoscope readings aside, if astrology can tell what a person's character is, I suppose it draws people because it can be extremely comforting. For one, you know that even if you think you're weird, there are others, born on the same day at the same time at the same place who are equally weird so you don't have to worry about sticking out like a sore thumb. Also, knowledge is power, (let's not go into the 'power corrupts' part yet), and if one has a certain degree of self-knowledge, that will cut down a lot of time in the Painful Self-Discovery area inevitably experienced by adolescents. This phase is more commonly identified by the "Who am I? Why am I so screwed up? What am I doing on earth?" refrain (or at least, different permutations of the above).

Arguably, these character readings may turn out to be nothing more than self-fulling prophecies. However, I suppose the Painful Self Discovery phase drive people to different areas, including religion. To each his own I suppose; but I do see why people enjoy reading up on their horoscopes. Ultimately, we all just need security, by knowing that our futures are at least known, if not controlled by some higher power, be it the stars or God. (Though I know some would vehemently oppose, saying each man is his own master, which is true to a certain degree I suppose...)

Personally, I'd rather have God than stars anytime.

Our store has closed

Yesterday while thoroughly enjoying the feeling of being one of the last few customers at Taka on a Monday night, I noticed a really strange shopper ahead of me in the queue. She was dressed normally, i.e. tank top and pants, and looked like a 30 plus year old tai tai. Only she spoke with what I think was a Taiwanese accent, and lacked the ostentation or the carefully dolled-up ness expected of someone with tai tai status.

The thing that caught my attention though, was how she paid for $637 worth of L'Occitane products with cash. And the notes were two or three dollar generations ago. The one dollar notes (who still has one dollar notes nowadays?!) were the ones with the kingfisher print, the ten dollar notes had the shape of our little island, and i noticed that she had two more $1000 notes in her wallet. No wonder she was shopping so late at night. But still, how does one buy so much L'Occitane products! They aren't exactly very expensive, but it looked like she was stocking up enough soap and shampoo etc to last a decade.

If I didn't know that I was fully awake, I would have thought I was in some nightmare because the old notes looked really like hell notes. Maybe she robbed a bank a really long time ago and only now does she dare to take out the money to spend. Hmmm.