[Theatre Review] Throwing One’s Hands Up

Hands Up
Split Theatre
5 March 2021
Sigma Collective Space
5–7 March 2021

An actor in school uniform points to something ahead and above eye level. Another actor with a school top and red shorts holds him back. The former questions the latter. We do not know if the first actor is directing our attention to something, trying to touch something, or just wanting to reach out. We do not know if the second actor wants to stop the other from danger or prevent him from leaving.

The above scene from Split Theatre’s Hands Up—directed by Darryl Lim and Fadhil Daud— struck me because it encapsulates the whole show. This gutsy group of actors (Amanda Kim, Clement Yeo, Ella Wee, Mabel Yeo, Hoe Wei Qi, Xin Rui) may have something to say, but we do not know what exactly that is.

The show is purportedly divided into five sections: silence, self, pride, realisation, and death.

Take ‘Self’ for example. It consists of ten minutes of movement motifs that are repeated by the actors. They, perhaps, gesture towards struggle, conflict, connection, birth. Yet, there is no palpable sense of progression or stasis in the composition. The actors seem like microscopic organisms moving about in the rectangular petri dish of a dance studio.

Worse still, I am assuming the movement sequence just described belongs to ‘self’ rather than other sections simply because one is never sure. And wherever the other sections might be, they all proceed in the same vein of generic gesturing.

We have scraps of text that range from the prologue of Agamemnon to the very mundane question in Hokkien: ‘Have you eaten?’ We do not know if the characters mean what they say or if the piece is perhaps inclined towards absurdism and the emptiness of words.

We have bits of song that are perhaps veneers of the characters; occasional dance breaks that perhaps aid with transitioning to another section; and one could go on ad nauseum.

All of that is such a waste as the show actually started with some potential.

In ‘Silence’ (this I am sure because it is the first thing we see), the actors introduce themselves by writing their names on their individual whiteboards. Next, they inform us that it is difficult to interact because of COVID-19. They then attempt to strike a conversation by writing a question on their whiteboards and would shush anyone up if someone verbally answers them. The fact that fellow audience members could not help themselves but to answer, even after the first couple of instances, speaks of the innate, human need to connect and communicate.

But as with the carousel of vignettes that ensue, it is not developed any further.

With a show that offers perhaps, perhaps, perhaps, we are less inclined to put one’s hand up and more inclined to throw both up.

Checkpoint Theatre Publishes First Comic Book – Putu Piring

When a theatre company announces its upcoming season, one gets excited about the shows on offer and the issues that will be tackled. Checkpoint Theatre’s 2021 season, Take It Personally, remains true to its vision of championing original stories, but there is a twist.

In a first for the company, Checkpoint Theatre will be publishing a comic book, Putu Piring. I contacted the Myle Yan Tay (author) and Shuxian Lee (illustrator) to find out more about the project.

What is Putu Piring about?

Yan: Putu Piring is about a man returning to his childhood haunt with the titular snack in hand. He reflects on his journey of growing up: from being a kid cycling on the parkway home from school, to a working adult, now cycling to escape the monotony of his daily life.

Putu piring itself is an oddly evocative snack. It’s a food that is both sentimental but also current, with new renditions appearing all the time. It’s that sense of being rooted in the past and present that I wanted to capture in this story; that sometimes, in our present moment, we become so cynical that we wish we could be nostalgic. It’s almost a nostalgia for nostalgia.

A theatre company publishing a comic book? How did the project come about?

Yan: During Circuit Breaker, when it was unclear when theatres would open again, Huzir Sulaiman, Joint Artistic Director of Checkpoint Theatre, asked me to write a comic. It had been a long-running conversation between the two of us and this was the perfect opportunity to make it happen. Faith Ng, Checkpoint’s Associate Artistic Director, put me in touch with Shuxian, and we then worked to write, develop, and publish it. 

Could you explain the creative process in creating this comic book? Did the text come first before the illustration or was it done simultaneously?

Yan: I wrote the first script, passed it to Shuxian to illustrate, and then we’d go back and forth on subsequent drafts together. I had a very clear vision of the ending of the comic; I knew what the reader would be seeing, and what sort of emotions I wanted them to feel. The comic book’s story was weirdly reverse-engineered in that way, with me figuring out what readers would need to read and see in order to get to that ending.

As we worked, Shuxian crafted some new pages that didn’t quite fit into the first draft of the script, but they were too perfect to cut. So together we rewrote and redrafted to figure out how to make those gorgeous pages work. It was a very collaborative process and it was really fantastic to see these pages I had written come to life with such colour and vibrancy.

Shuxian: When I read Yan’s script, I could already see most of the visuals in my head. Either he wrote incredibly vividly, or I was fortunate enough to share his vision, so there weren’t huge differences between what he wanted the comic to look like and what I actually drew. Since I’m based in Belgium, Yan had to provide me with most of the reference pictures for the locations featured in the comic; with those and his script as a starting point, I could build on the scenes and perspectives. I had some guidelines to follow, but was mostly free to do anything I liked with it. I would sketch out thumbnails or uncoloured panels and Yan would send his feedback before we finalised a page.

Illustration by Shuxian Lee

How did you approach illustrating this comic? How would you describe your aesthetic?

Shuxian: I decided I wanted to draw something minimal and almost sterile—Adrian Tomine-inspired illustrations, to reflect the overall sense of ennui. I used disparate colour palettes to differentiate the time frames and contrasting moods of the past and present.

My aesthetic influences vary, but I try to keep a hand-drawn, organic feel throughout my drawings, even when they are drawn digitally.

What were some of the challenges in creating this comic? Were there any interesting discoveries in the process?

Yan: A clear challenge was Shuxian’s remoteness from Singapore. The comic book takes place in Singapore and follows a cycling route near East Coast Park. We worked around it by having me send photos over for reference. Shuxian then recreated them on the page with her own flair. These ended up lifting the comic into a unique visual space: something very real and unreal at the same time.

Shuxian: The time difference as well, perhaps—it would have been more difficult if there was a tight deadline! I also found it challenging to balance a very physically and mentally exhausting day job with illustrating on the side; I’m hoping that illustration and art-making will take up the bulk of my time in the near future. Thankfully, for this comic, I had the weekends to work on it.

I’ve rediscovered my love for the graphic novel medium! And that I actually do love illustrating someone else’s story. This is the first time I’m collaborating on one and it’s been amazingly rewarding seeing what we come up with after bouncing ideas off of each other. I really appreciate being lucky enough to find a collaborator who shares my love for this storytelling medium. Getting to immerse myself in someone else’s inner world has been very enriching.

Yan: In the past, I’ve mainly written and then directed my own work; so it was surprisingly fulfilling to be able to hand off the reins to someone else and watch as they worked. I especially enjoyed seeing Shuxian come up with pages that I could never have thought of myself, because she has such a great imagination.

We had such a good time with this project that we’re actually already working on a new comic, Through the Longkang, which will be launched together with Putu Piring at our comic book launch event Picture This on 23 March!


Putu Piring will be launched, along with several other titles, at Picture This on 23 March 2020 at Goodman Arts Centre, Black Box.

[Book Review] Void by Frank Passani

Void 

Frank Passani

Notion Press (2020) / 219 pp.

To purchase the book, click here.

Passani’s cerebral novel revolves around Melpomene Lau, a Spanish literature professor teaching at the Singapore University of Literary Studies in 2032.

Through a series of vignettes presented in various literary forms (diary entries, dialogues, flash-back, flash-forward, reversals, speculative imaginings of utopia and dystopia), we see Lau dealing with the void that she feels, triggered by a suicide of a friend and the general ennui induced by the demands of modern life.

As hinted by the Lau addressing her diary as Transcendental Ego, we get more of an intellectual rather than an emotional exploration of this void. Initially, it might be difficult for most readers to have a handle on this as it is full of academic terms and references. However, Passani does leave some clues as to what he is doing towards the latter half of the novel.

Those who have any training in philology or literary studies will have a field day as Passani is unafraid to reveal the breadth and depth of his academic background through his protagonist. This book could easily double up as a reading list for anyone who wants to delve deeper into literary studies or world literature.

Lau would eventually go on to write a novel, Void. These and other self-reflexive elements in the novel seem to express Passani’s views on academia, literature, and even aspects of Singaporean society. However, rather than exploiting his protagonist to be a mere mouthpiece of his views, care is taken to weave that into the story.

A couple of areas in which I wished Passani would delve a little more into are Lau’s identity and the setting of Singapore in the near future.

In the novel, it is established that Lau’s father hails from Hong Kong, while her mother hails from Madrid. Her parents decided to settle in Brighton, which lends her sort of a triple identity. Add to the fact that her name is due to her mother specialising in Ancient Greek philology, and we get an interesting melange. With Singapore priding itself on being a multicultural society, it would be fascinating to see how someone with such a complex identity exist within that society.

Placing the novel in Singapore 12 years ahead from the present day allows Passani some leeway to invent certain elements, such as the university Lau is teaching at. That said, apart from mentioning COVID-27, I would love to see how he imagines other areas of Singapore—as a foreigner who has lived in Singapore for a decade—based on current trajectories.

On the whole, this novel requires a patient reader as one has to scale the mountain of academic references. However, Passani makes the journey a little less arduous with an engaging narrative and a thinly veiled explanation later on. If anything, it has sparked an interest in me to explore world literature to find out what inspired him to structure the novel that he did.

[Interview] Taking Five with Actors of “FIVE”

Actors rehearsing FIVE (Photo: Intercultural Theatre Institute)

Next week, the graduating cohort of the Intercultural Theatre Institute will present their final showcase, FIVE. It consists of five actors telling their stories which raise the following questions: How does it feel to be cut off from regular human contact? What happens to a mind and body which can only connect with others virtually? What does it mean to be an artist in this “new” world?

As the performance will be catered to an on-site audience at the Esplanade Theatre studio and another group of audience on Zoom, I spoke to the actors to find out more about the process.

As an actor, what are the main changes you have to make in order to cater to both a live and an online audience?

Kyongsu Kathy Han: As an actor, one of our jobs is to understand how the show is framed. This understanding informs our actor’s choice in rehearsal. FIVE is framed in two very different ways: onstage and online. I don’t think this has changed what I do as an actor, but it certainly has made the job more difficult. Each frame has its own boundaries and limits, its own sweet spots. My biggest challenge is hitting the sweet spot for both frames. Or not. I’m still searching.

Li-chuan Lin (a.k.a. Aki): 需要在表演、做動作時,注意電腦鏡頭的位置,以及可以拍攝的範圍。思考要給線上觀眾看到的角度、畫面、細節,在螢幕看到的構圖是否有趣或帶有意義,同時也要考慮現場觀眾看到整體的狀態與畫面。
在創作時,也會思考「這個動作/細節,我想讓線上及現場觀眾都看到?或是只有其中一個?」或是或是「同個動作,能否做出透過鏡頭和現場觀看會有不同的感覺或意義。」
簡而言之,需要考慮到兩個觀看視角,以及試著做出對兩者觀眾都有意義的故事。

[I need to think about the camera when I am acting or moving, as well as creating meaningful and interesting compositions for a screen. I am also considering whether the same movements or gestures can evoke different emotions to the audience that are on-site and online.]

Prajith K Prasad: First, the fundamental difference is that the live audience will see the whole body of the actor, whereas the online audience will only see a certain part of the actor’s body as captured by the computer’s low-quality camera. It is a difficult task to produce good results and it’s up to the director to pick and choose what to show with the help of the creative team.

The main difficulty for the actor is working with the team to tell a narrative on an online medium in the best way you can, while being aware of the energy you are directing to the audience sitting right in front of you. You have to be more generous and patient. The dynamic energy that is usually there while devising a theatre work changes into a different form because of the intervention of technology.

A major component of your training is an exposure to various traditional Asian art forms. Has that informed the way you approach this modern mode of performance?

Kyongsu Kathy Han: The traditional Asian art forms did not directly prepare me for a “Zoom theatre/performance”. What the training did give me is the courage to face difficulties; to remain grounded when negotiating with the unfamiliar.

Li-chuan Lin (a.k.a. Aki): 其實我還在試著了解傳統表演怎麼影響我在當代戲劇的演出。這似乎不是短時間就能悟出答案的問題。目前在創作的過程中,會試著加入傳統表演的form,從外在形體找到內在的感受;或是在某些言語或肢體等的表達過程中遇到困難,也會找尋曾經學過傳統表演內在表現的部分(例如日本能劇外在表現平靜如水,內在能量濃烈如火),來套用在自己的創作上。

[I am actually still looking for the answer on how the traditional forms have influenced me in this contemporary performance. It’s not easy to find the answer.

But for now, in the devising process, I have tried both ways. The first is using the physical form, using outside physical work to find inside feelings/emotions. The second is the opposite. I use the elements of inside expression in traditional forms (e.g. in Noh, the physical movements are as quiet as lake water, but the energy inside is as active as fire) to find vocal or physical expression.]

Ramith Ramesh: For starters, training in various traditional art forms makes me aware of the minute details that are crucial to the craft of performing. This is especially relevant when performing for a Zoom audience, as it ensures appropriate and efficient execution of the movements. 

One key component of Kutiyattam that has made it easier for me to perform in front of the laptop, is to ‘perform for the lamp’ and keeping a close performance area around it in my mind. In Kutiyattam, the lamp is always viewed as our audience. So I simply envisioned the laptop camera as the lamp, while transforming the screen into the close performance area. My training in the traditional art forms has given me stability and flexibility to adapt to all sort of changes.

 Rhian Hiew Khai Chin: For me, the traditional Asian art forms have definitely changed my body and voice in my performance. I am able to create a new way of telling a story by weaving the vocabulary from these forms into a contemporary performance.

Performing for two groups of audiences (Photo: Intercultural Theatre Institute)

Are there any interesting discoveries in the process of creating this piece?

Kyongsu Kathy Han: During rehearsal, we explored different ways we can still play theatre games online through Zoom. In the beginning, I was overwhelmed by a sense of loss. I was made aware of the things that I took for granted, such as being able to sense another being when breathing in the same space. But we adapted, changed some rules, and made new games. It is not the same. But with death, we also found rebirth.

Li-chuan Lin (a.k.a. Aki): 第一個有趣的點還是,學習如何作出Zoom的線上演出。

第二個是,第一次可以在舞台上展現我自己喜歡的藝術:繪畫、摺紙、剪紙、小裝置藝術。這些靜態的視覺藝術,多半只是我自己的孤芳自賞。但在這次的創作中,有機會讓它們被展現出來,雖然只是小小的一部分,也是感到很開心。

[First: Studying how to perform on Zoom. Second: It is the first time I can present my other art works (e.g. drawing, origami, paper-cutting and small installation art). These visual art forms are usually an indulgence for me, and are never shown. However, they are seen from this opportunity. Although they are not shown much, I am still satisfied.]

Ramith Ramesh: It is a strange and funny thing for actors to feel a sense of empowerment from looking into the eyes of the audiences. However, performing in front of a laptop screen has made me more self-conscious, as I sometimes overthink about the acting, the voice, and the looks — something that never happened to me while performing live. 

There were also technical troubles at the beginning that I found hard to cope with. The real struggle then came in balancing my acting and voice to fit the requirements and direction of both mediums. It took some time for me to make my peace with it.

What does it mean to be an artist in this new normal?

Kyongsu Kathy Han: That is very hard to say. On one hand, I am mourning, heavily. On the other hand, I feel challenged, which is probably a good thing. For theatre is about conflict and tension, discovery, meaning-making, and pushing boundaries. It’s been a steep learning curve, and despite the drastic change in what we know as theatre, we’re carrying on. So I’m looking forward to sharing FIVE with an audience, onstage and online.

Li-chuan Lin (a.k.a. Aki): 我把這件事當成「藝術進入了另一個時代」。
就像生命會依不同自然環境改變進而演化;人類文化會隨著時間、空間、社會環境產生變化。現在我們遇到這樣的時空背景與條件,對我而言就是保持開放的態度,嘗試不同的創作模式。過程當然會感到不適、不習慣、不知所措等負面狀態,但結果或許會很有趣也說不定。即使失敗了,也沒關係,因為這是下次創作的養分。

[I think that “Art is going to another era”. Life evolves when the natural environment and culture changes because time, space and society are different.

For me, I just keep an open mind and continue trying and learning — maybe there’ll be something interesting. Even if I fail, it is alright, as failure serves as the nutrient for creating my next work.]   

Prajith K Prasad: I believe that a performance without a live audience is not theatre. Theatre should be experienced live. However, I’m glad that we get to bring FIVE to a small live audience in these turbulent times. Regardless, I believe that theatre will find its way back and people will continue to tell stories through art, even in this new normal. So to be an artist in these times is made even more significant.

Ramith Ramesh: Art flourishes in crisis, I believe. The worst times present the best opportunities for nourishment. It is sad, but true.

 Rhian Hiew Khai Chin: There are many challenges the artist needs to work against during this pandemic, as they struggle to find creative new ways to make art. However, I am still hopeful that I’d be able to use this time to reflect on myself and my art in the community. I hope to continue experimenting, to use my art to motivate and encourage others. And, of course, to keep healthy.

Read: ITI Navigates Between Live and Digital Performances with “FIVE”


FIVE will run from 12 to 14 November 2020 at the Esplanade Theatre Studio and Zoom. Tickets from Peatix

ITI Navigates Between Live and Digital Performances with “FIVE”

In a first for the Intercultural Theatre Institute (ITI), the graduating cohort will present FIVE, a live performance to audiences at the Esplanade Theatre Studio and on Zoom.

Under the direction of Kok Heng Leun, artistic director of Drama Box, FIVE is a devised piece which explores the experiences of solitude and separation. This hybrid performance can only be possible with the collaboration of some of Singapore’s leading artists, including Genevieve Peck (video and lighting design), Guo Ningru (sound design), Tan Wei Ting (film direction) and Lim Chin Huat (costume coordination).

I interview director Kok Heng Leun to find out more about the show.

Director Kok Heng Leun speaking to the production team of “Five”
(Photo: Intercultural Theatre Institute)

Why did you choose to create a hybrid performance in which audiences can either watch it live or on Zoom, as opposed to sticking to one form of engagement?

As the pandemic is quite a volatile situation, our approach with dealing with it is to imagine the live performance being watched on both Zoom and on-site. So even if theatres remain closed, we have already designed our rehearsal process to accommodate for online viewing. 

What are some of the major challenges of directing actors to cater to both a live and online audience?

Directing actors for both a live and online audience requires us to create two different scores. The actors have to learn to work with two mediums and cater their blocking and stage composition to both.

Are there any interesting discoveries that would inform your work as a theatre-maker? Is there something you learnt from this experience that you might explore further?

I think it further underscores the importance of having enough resources for experimentation during rehearsal. The two mediums are very different, and a lot of time and resources are needed to see how they can interweave with each other. In a way, we are exploring a new dramaturgy of work. I look forward to seeing how this new form can develop in the future.

What does it mean to be an artist in this new normal?

I feel that it has not changed. As a practitioner, my concern has always been on how to engage with the audience, as well as how the art is made and distributed. In that sense, artists are always dealing and responding to change. And we are still in business.


FIVE will run from 12 to 14 November 2020 at the Esplanade Theatre Studio and Zoom. Tickets from Peatix

Teater Ekamatra presents Baca Skrip: #Causeway

In the final instalment of Baca Skrip, Teater Ekamatra takes us across the border and back with Aflian Sa’at’s “Causeway”. 

I spoke to the actors involved in this presentation to find out more about their processes and thoughts about the play. 

Could you give us some insights as to what the rehearsal process was like?

Iedil Dzuhrie Alaudin: It has been fun! I’ve always enjoyed working with actors from around the region to share stories. The first session was a read and trying to understand the context of the play and how we are going to interpret it. The next few was to make sure we get everything in order. Being in a room with great talents is a blessing. Everyone is on the ball and gunning to make this production amazing! You might think that having to just sit in your room during rehearsal is easy, but it is quite tiring! You have to deal with the text and technology!

Hafidz Rahman: It’s definitely different doing zoom rehearsals but I think the good thing about zoom is that it keeps me alert throughout—I don’t get to zone out like I usually do during normal rehearsals. It’s a lot of reading, a lot of technical discussions, a lot of preparation and a lot of sitting.

Umi Kalthum Ismail: Most of the time I spend time solving tech problems! When it comes to acting, it is a strange feeling. While it is fun to get into character in my own bedroom, I’m not entirely sure if I’m all in. I feel like I’m giving my all but I’m not sure if my co-actors are feeling me, the way I want them to!

Fazleena Hishamuddin: Proses rehearsal secara online memerlukan para pelakon tidak hanya membaca skrip dan berlakon, tetapi terlibat dalam hal-hal teknikal. Pelakon perlu sentiasa bersedia untuk menukar aplikasi snap camera untuk kepelbagaian karektor. Juga berdepan dengan masalah-masalah coverage internet dan lain-lain. Namun proses interaksi yang baik antara krew dan pelakon dapat melicinkan proses latihan.

(The online rehearsal process requires the actors not only to read the script and act, but to engage in technical matters. The actors must always be ready to change the snap camera app for a variety of characters. We also faced internet coverage problems and others. But the process of good interaction between the crew and the actors help smoothen the training process.)

Arjun Thanaraju: The rehearsal process was definitely different than anything I have ever experienced before. Not only are we taking notes as actors but we are also taking notes as our own camera person, lighting director, special effects coördinator, and so much more! This made me appreciate just how much work goes into a production and how important every element is in making the show a success. 

Darynn Wee: It’s a unique kind of process compared to the usual physical rehearsal. It’s convenient because we don’t have to travel to the rehearsal place, but  it also not that convenient because of the technical demands. A few of us had to figure out some technical issues before the rehearsals and sometimes even during rehearsals. But once we got it settled, it’s a huge relief. With this group of people, it has been really fun! I enjoyed every bits with them. We especially had a good laugh over the ridiculous camera filters. That sort of broke the ice for us. Something we wouldn’t get to experiment with the ‘live’ sort of encounter. That’s a bit sad because we’re still missing that physical connection.

Gloria Tan: All rehearsals have been held online, with a good amount of time spent with us trying out new filters for each scene and giggling at one another, from Singapore to Malaysia.

What are some challenges you face, especially when you are not in the same room with the rest of the cast and crew?

Iedil Dzuhrie Alaudin: Technology can be your friend and your worst enemy. We always pray for smooth connection all the time. There were times during rehearsals when some of us had to drop out due to poor connection or tech difficulties. As actors, we need to learn to multi-task now and become tech-savvy along the way! It is definitely a new experience. I do miss being in one space with fellow actors and crew not forgetting the live audience. However, we could sense the energy from everyone involved, and everyone is rooting for each other to do well, so that is a nice feeling. The first few rehearsals were to understand the play, now, it is to make sure we get the technology down for a smooth run.

Hafidz Rahman: My main challenge is really bridging that human interaction online because I cannot talk to them in the flesh. We don’t get to hang out together during breaks or after rehearsals so it almost feels like a long-distance relationship.

Umi Kalthum Ismail: It is hard to get a sense of everyone’s energy while we are online. It’s hard to break the ice with the other actors and crew members whom you’ve never worked with on a zoom call. I wished we had more time to speak to each other.

Fazleena Hishamuddin: Saya seorang pelakon yang tidak boleh hilang fokus. Ia akan membuat saya stress dan gelabah. Saya juga kurang arif dalam hal teknologi. Saya selalu berdebar untuk menukar dan mengalih aplikasi. Di waktu yang sama perlu memberi penghayatan pada skrip. Ia sukar pada saya yang amatlah noob dengan teknologi. Saya seorang diri yang mengawalnya. Jadi ia memang menakutkan. Perasaan berdebar yang berpanjangan tidak baik untuk saya. Ia akan buat saya rasa sesal dan sedih tidak dapat beri yang terbaik. Saya faham jika ada sedikit saja kesalahan, ia akan beri kesan pada semua.

(I am an actor who cannot lose focus. It will make me stressed and nervous. I am also less knowledgeable in terms of technology. I am always panicking whenever I need to change and switch apps. I have to appreciate and focus on the written work, all at the same time. It is difficult for me because I’m a greenhorn when it comes to technology. I am the only one who controls it. So it’s really scary. Feeling anxious is not good for me. It will make me feel sorry and sad because I was not able to give my best. I understand that if there are a few mistakes, it will affect everyone.)

Arjun Thanaraju: Theatre has always been about human connection for me. Especially with an ensemble piece like this, building rapport with my fellow actors is something I deem very important. It was definitely a challenge to do that through a screen but I think we managed to overcome that obstacle quite early on in the rehearsal process because everyone was so warm and welcoming towards each other!

Darynn Wee: We don’t really know what is going on to our other cast mates or crew if something happened, and if you’re facing it, it’s like you’re alone, and the rest will be wondering what is going on. I had some internet connection problem at the first read, and I missed out some chunk of the rehearsal.

Another thing is to be on the same page with each other, I may be thinking that you are seeing what I am seeing on screen but we are actually not seeing the same thing. So what we did was we shared screen or shared our screenshots in WhatsApp.

Gloria Tan: Sometimes the room (online) can be rather cold. You come online and saying hello to give a little burst of energy, but no one replies you because everyone’s mics are all muted, and everyone is intently looking at their screens because the internet connection is not stable. Lines with repartee are definitely tricky especially with varying internet speeds (Dear internet Gods, please generously bless us with smooth and stable internet speeds on the 28th of August. Thank you.) which sometimes can be funny when the video frame freezes up when someone is mid-sentence.

That being said, major kudos to the production team for tirelessly working to get everyone up to speed and working to make sure everyone is on the same page while working in isolation.

Has this process made you look at the piece that you are involved in a new way? How so?

Iedil Dzuhrie Alaudin: I feel that this form of staging lets you view the stories deeper as you could really see what the characters are going through. You literally get a close-up of what is going on. But there’re also parts where you have to leave it to imagination. For a play that was written 20 years ago, it’s funny how some of the stories and criticism still resonates today. As for whether this is new normal theatre? I think this is  just another form of theatre performance in its infancy stage. A lot more to explore. I just like the potential of it getting a bigger reach globally. You can be in Antartica and still watch a live performance!

Hafidz Rahman: I have read “Causeway” when I was in college and the same themes still resonate with me. It’s just that in this process, with COVID and the inability to actually experience Malaysia, it gives a certain sense of longing. I miss Malaysia.

Umi Kalthum Ismail: This process has made me looked at all scripts differently. It makes me question how much of my upper body and voice can help tell the story better!

Fazleena Hishamuddin: Namun begitu, inilah cabaran yang perlu saya hadapi. Perlahan-lahan saya belajar beradaptasi dengan teknologi. Ia bagus untuk membentuk sikap dan pemikiran saya. Belajar benda baru, bertemu dengan orang baru dan meraikan cabaran bersama. Kalau inilah norma baharu seni persembahan, saya perlu berusaha mengatasi ketakutan saya.

(However, this is the challenge I have to face. Slowly I learnt to adapt to technology. It was great way to shape my attitude and thinking. Learn new things, meet new people and celebrate challenges together. If this is the new norm of performing arts, I will continue to work on overcoming my fears.)

Arjun Thanaraju: I tend to favour narrative-driven pieces because I find the stories more compelling. However, this process has definitely showed me that you can still tell a compelling story through whacky and playful means! This has opened my eyes to a different way of storytelling, one that I intend to pursue further in the future.

Darynn Wee: This script is an interesting piece and we got the chance to just play around and explore a few new things together. Although Alfian wrote this piece several years ago,  some of the issues being talked about are still relatable. We don’t really talk about it as much anymore now, but we still have those thoughts and memories at the back of our mind. I believe we all have our identities tied to the country where we are from and have some sense of pride and memory to it.

We had the liberty to give our input at the last part in introducing ourselves and that brought in some form of our own identity to the piece. So to me, this version of the piece is now ours, in a way.

Gloria Tan: I think the one that stands out the most right now above everything else is how much we all miss theatre and being in a space with the whole team. We also miss the bonding aspect of theatre when everyone works together and feels each other’s energy to  create collectively. We are all very much done with the pandemic.

I would like to thank Teater Ekamatra for creating this Baca Skrip: #___ platform for performers to continue practising and (in the aspect of Causeway) reach out to our fellow performers in Malaysia to remind us all that we in this together and that we are not alone.

Singapore needs Malaysia as much as Malaysia needs Singapore.


Baca Skrip: #Causeway will be presented via Zoom on 28 August 2020 at 8 p.m. Tickets at $10 from Peatix.

[Theatre Review] Two Songs and a Story – Taking Stock of Locks and Barriers

Courtesy of Checkpoint Theatre

Two Songs and a Story
Checkpoint Theatre
Online, Sistic Live
6–31 August 2020

Apart from being a health crisis, the COVID-19 pandemic has turned out to be a life audit. We are forced to reëvaluate all aspects of our lives and confront uncomfortable truths that we would rather conveniently forget.

For Checkpoint Theatre, they cancelled their first production of the 2020 season and turned The Heart Comes to Mind and A Grand Design into audio presentations. Two Songs and a Story marks the company’s first major production conceived to be presented online in adherence to the government’s guidelines.

As the title suggests, we get five writer-performers taking stock of certain aspects of their lives with a monologue largely bookended with two songs.

While the format may sound like an open mic gig on film, directors Huzir Sulaiman and Joel Lim worked closely with the performers and the cinematography to ensure diverse and surprising modes of presentations.

ants chua performing “at least i have words now” / Photo: Courtesy of Checkpoint Theatre

In “at least i have words now”, ants chua explores the dynamics of friendships vis-à-vis romantic relationships and how the former is much more ambiguous with lack of rituals and clear markers of beginnings and endings.

It is a wise choice to anchor the monologue with a childhood story about making friends on the school bus as a reflection—and almost an allegory—of the friendships made and lost later in life. The situation is simple enough to understand, but there is a sense that one carries a certain naïveté into later life, which results in hurting others. This is in stark contrast to chua’s insightful analysis of the difference between romance and friendships—a realisation for which chua has the words to articulate now.

chua’s restrained performance allows the text to breathe and sink in as we inevitably reflect on our own friendships.

Inch Chua performing “Super Q” / Photo: Courtesy of Checkpoint Theatre

It is easy to think of Inch Chua as a singer, but if her consistent forays into theatre over the past few years is not enough to rid you of the idea that she is merely “dipping her toes” in the theatre industry, then “Super Q” should do the trick.

Chua plunges into the heart of the COVID-19 crisis by relaying her experiences as a volunteer in sanitising operations. The disjuncture between the comforts of her home and the seemingly draconian measures at the workers’ dormitories is disconcerting to say the least.

Chua’s experimentation with rhythm and poetry in her text enhances the emotions of frustration and confusion it evokes. This is complemented by the cuts and lighting design in the way the video was edited.

If the first piece is contemplative, Chua is on the other end as she bores into your heart with original songs written for the show. She cries: “All this must mean something more / when you have the privilege to be bored.”

Jo Tan performing “A Bit” / Photo: Courtesy of Checkpoint Theatre

Ever since the success of Forked (2019), Jo Tan has been prolific in writing and performing monologues that feature quirky characters, but their experiences or desires reveal something insightful about the circumstances that we live in.

In “A Bit”, Tan plays Bit Wah. An unassuming office lady who gets through life merely doing what is expected of her. While her lack of ambition makes her existence seems mechanical, she finds solace in her favourite anime.

Tan’s comic timing makes this short piece a joy to watch, and the ending is oddly entertaining.

To a culture that glorifies productivity, watching anime may seem frivolous. But if all that hustling is akin to the conformity of the grey skyscrapers of Tokyo, perhaps Bit Wah has a point in wanting life to be a little bit more colourful.

Rebekah Sangeetha Dorai performing “And Then I Am Light” / Photo: Courtesy of Checkpoint Theatre

Rebekah Sangeetha Dorai’s “And Then I Am Light” is a refreshing change as the diagonal angle of the shot and the breezy delivery of her monologue feels like a casual interview as compared to the performative nature of the other pieces.

On the whole, it is heartfelt and life-affirming as she comes to terms with being able to accept herself and move on from her trauma of her childhood and past relationships.

However, with the breezy delivery and tight pacing of the editing, one does not feel the full gravity of her words. This results in the piece losing some of its bite as it sometimes feels like a behind-the-scenes interview for a sleek music video.

This is a pity as the potential of the monochromatic shot of her monologue transiting into full-blown colour when she sings in a beautiful blue costume with embroidery is lost. However, the option of turning on the captions and reading the text does compensate a little.

That said, this does not completely detract from the heart of the piece and Rebekah’s luscious vocals is always a treat.

weish performing “Be Here, With Me” / Photo: Courtesy of Checkpoint Theatre

Fresh from her collaboration with Checkpoint Theatre on Displaced Persons’ Welcome Dinner (2019), weish takes centre stage in “Be Here, With Me”. An evocative performance about her struggles with trying to get over a traumatic experience.

In her music practice, weish uses live loops of singing, vocal percussion, and instrumentation. While we see that here, it not merely a transposition of her forte into this piece. Instead, the live loops that are present in her songs and monologue become a soundscape of her mind.

This allows us to see how she tries to appear normal so not as to burden others, while desperately wanting affirmations from others, even though she knows that it does not assuage her insecurities, self-doubt, and blame.

Having the camera suddenly charge up to her face-on after her opening song is uncomfortably confrontational, but it creates a sense that she is speaking directly to us as a particular person rather than an audience in general.

This is an inspired move as we then get to see her slowly crumble as she tries to explain herself and her experience—a rather different side of her as compared to the one who is in absolute control of the sonic textures, rhythms, and tempo when she is singing.

Despite its seemingly simple premise, Two Songs and a Story proves that Checkpoint Theatre is equally adept at bringing their brand of producing local works for the digital medium.

Other Reviews

“Theatre review: Checkpoint Theatre’s Two Songs And A Story presents intimate, heartbreaking monologues” by Olivia Ho, The Straits Times Life!  
♦ Article is behind a paywall. 

Resources

Two Songs and a Story: Artist Dialogue

[Listing] BODY X : The Culprit

After two successful runs in 2014 (BODY X The Wedding) and 2016 (BODY X The Rehearsal), BODY X returns with a brand new murder-mystery online: BODY X The Culprit.

This happened 35 years ago during the economic crisis of the mid-1980s.

Lacking substantial evidence, the case was left unsolved.

 

While tackling the challenges of an unprecedented recession and rapid business decline,

a neighbourhood kopitiam had to face another murderous impact —

a Regular Patron was found dead outside the shop in the early morning,

lying face-down at his usual spot.

 

All who were in contact with him the previous night

—Big Boss, Kopi Auntie, Cleaner, Beer Girl, Stall-owner—

had valid alibi and were not at the scene of the crime.

However, they all had disagreements with the victim before.

 

Was it an accident? Or is the murderer one of them?

Body X is a pioneering immersive-interactive Mandarin murder-mystery in Singapore theatre. An original and innovative theatrical format conceived and created by seasoned theatre practitioners, Li Xie and Danny Yeo. Both directors emphasised that the 2020 online version should retain important features—the involvement of and the autonomy in choice-making for the audience, the exploration of performance space, as well as the experimentation of unknown theatrical practices.  

So, are you behind-the-scene or in-the-scene? You decide. 

Come traverse through time and space to help solve this murder-mystery with us… this time, virtually. 


Body X The Culprit runs from 9–13 September 2020 via Zoom. Performed in Mandarin with no subtitles. Tickets from $18 at Peatix

AMBOI! Teater Ekamatra Launches a Fundraising Challenge

Despite several cancelled performances, Teater Ekamatra has rolled with the punches and continued to put up performances to champion minority voices. In its efforts to safeguard the future of the arts and to ensure that minority voices have a place within it, Teater Ekamatra has launched a fundraising challenge with a goal to raise $10,000. 

Titled AMBOI!, a colloquial Malay word that expresses wonderment, the fundraising challenge will run from 24 July till 31 August 2020.

It has the unique effect in which every dollar donated will be multiplied four-fold. This is made possible by a private donor who has generously committed to match dollar-for-dollar up to $10,000. The total amount will then be doubled through the Cultural Matching Fund. This will translate into the company being able to receive $40,000 should they be able to achieve the fundraising target.

Furthermore, reaching this fundraising milestone of $10,000 will “unlock” a special reward in the form of a free mini festival of performances via Zoom on 25 September 2020. The two-hour session will feature performances by surprise guests and collaborators of Teater Ekamatra as a way to thank all donors who contributed to the AMBOI! fundraising challenge

The funds raised will help to support Teater Ekamatra’s future programmes, including upcoming digital projects such as a reimagining of recently cancelled production Berak; children’s programme Mat Champion; its long-runnning Playwright Mentorship Programme; and Baca Skrip, a new Zoom play reading series. It will also cover overhead expenses such as rental and staff salaries. 

“As a word with multiple meanings, AMBOI! is an apt rallying cry to galvanise the community with the same spirit of playfulness, thrilling delight and creative expression that is associated with the work of Teater Ekamatra. We hope this fundraising challenge, with its 1:4 feature, will inspire more giving. It’s equally a challenge to ourselves to keep finding ways to carve out space for the ethnic minority voice in Singapore in the years to come.”

Shaza Ishak, Teater Ekamatra’s Company Director

If you would like to support Teater Ekamatra’s artistic endeavours, please donate generously via their giving.sg campaign page. This challenge runs from 24 July till 31 August 2020. 

Teater Ekamatra presents Baca Skrip: #IkanCantik

The third instalment of Baca Skrip features Aidli Mosbit’s Ikan Cantik which meditates on issues such as the historical (mis)representation of women; gender roles and sexuality; women in popular culture and the biases; and privileges of female power dynamics. 

To find out more about the processes that go into present an online reading via Zoom, I interviewed some of the actors involved (Farah Ong, Suhaili Safari, Rafeyah Abdul Rahman, Elnie S. Mashari) in the presentation. 

Could you give us some insights as to what the rehearsal process was like?

Farah Ong: Reading. Just listening to the voices and tapping into those memories from a long time ago, and re-creating some experiences. There are a lot of technical details involved: checking of sound, angling of camera, and testing the intensity and colour of the lighting.

Suhaili Safari: The rehearsal process has been very technical when it comes to setting up our space every night. Having it being consistent especially with lighting and sound makes it easier for us to make a good show.

Rafeyah Abdul Rahman: What goes on behind the scenes is amusing. My rehearsal space is filled with costume and makeup on the right and IT peripherals, wastepaper basket (and snacks ssshhhh) on the left. The blinding ring light is in front of my laptop. Being older, presbyopia is a bane. Otherwise, getting on board and switching into character is easier than connecting through zoom on a weak wireless connection.

Elnie S. Mashari: Rehearsals started a month ago, with five or six sessions lasting two hours each. It was pretty refreshing to get into a “rehearsal” mode after months of not being actively involved in a production. It took a couple of sessions to get into the flow of the rehearsal process. It  would take 30–45 minutes to set up the technical elements  before the actual read. The session would end with a round of notes. While we plan for our rehearsals to last for two hours, it would usually stretch to three, which is fine as we had nowhere to go except to sleep after that. 

What were some challenges you face, especially when you are not in the same room with the rest of the cast and crew?

Farah Ong: The technical part is really challenging. The internet connection determines how you’re gonna sound, whether it’s going to lag. So, it takes a lot more energy and focus and listen. It’s listening plus something else.

The satisfaction is completely different, of course. Rehearsing on Zoom takes away the joy of human connection. So, your brains got to work double and triple hard to process.

Suhaili Safari: While needing a consistency in the quality of lighting and sound, sometimes we have to deal with unannounced noise bleeding from our environments because we are playing in our own homes . We also have to work with the latency of visual and sound when our network gets wonky and our Bluetooth earphones run out of power. Basically, we got to get our technology right at its peak at all times which is the main challenge of making online live shows. Besides that, having it directed in a tinier space made me feel claustrophobic, but that’s only because I had to think outside the conventions of stage playing and more of working within the idea of probably what film/TV would entail like eye line in film acting.

Rafeyah Abdul Rahman: Synergy. But fortunately, it’s a read. Nevertheless, the lag in connection requires a lot of waiting and patience from cast and crew. What’s interesting is that we get to use digital apps to get things up and make things work when otherwise it’ll purely be us on stage.

Elnie S. Mashari: I guess getting into a robust or an active discussion is hard because rehearsals were done over Zoom, and we we would not be able to hear each other at all if we accidentally talk over each other. It is like being in class, where we need to raise our hands before we share our opinion. 

Has this process made you look at the piece that you are involved in a new way? How so?

Farah Ong: It’s interesting that all these issues are probably still happening now. Just in a different language and vocabulary. The root of the problem and the issues are still the same. I guess humanity hasn’t evolved that much, you know…This whole Zoom process makes me miss the actual rehearsal and creation process of making theatre in general.

Suhaili Safari: Well, this is my first time working with #ikancantik as opposed to the rest who are revisiting it. Finding relationships with characters of actors I’ve not worked with before from behind my laptop screen made me imagine myself in a fishbowl and talking to fishes from other fish bowls. 

If this is rehearsed as a show rather than a script read, I wonder what dynamics will need to be in place to highlight relationships of characters without having them meet in the same space?

Rafeyah Abdul Rahman: It gets cast and crew to think of solutions that befit a zoom read. We have to lift the words off the script and how to do that without ‘acting’? Mastering the text and improve on eloquence—thus providing depth for each word, phrase, and sentence. The script still feels light-hearted but belies the weight of so much research, careful representation and deliberation.

Elnie S. Mashari: It definitely opens up a new perspective into performing for Zoom  or acting for a live-stream. The stage version allowed us to express ourselves more with body language and gestures. For Zoom, we need to capture our emotions and intention within that single frame. Using only our voice, facial expressions and upper body reactions. This gives me the tool to access insights to the character’s psyche and the sensitivity required in the delivering of the lines. I think that’s the main new change I experienced.

In addition, 22 years have passed. Our collective years of experiences have provided new insights to the issues raised in the 1998 production. We have now a bigger pool of information and experiences to support our choices for the characters.


Baca Skrip: #ikancantik will be presented via Zoom on 24 July 2020 at 8 p.m. Tickets at $10 from Peatix.