Myle Yan Tay

[Interview] Myle Yan Tay on his latest play, “Statement Piece”

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Playwright Myle Yan Tay (seated left) with director Claire Wong (seated right) and the cast (standing L-R): Tricia Tan, Rusydina Afiqah, and Huzir Sulaiman (also the dramaturg). / Courtesy of Checkpoint Theatre

After the the success of Brown Boys Don’t Tell Jokes (2023) in which playwright Myle Yan Tay looks at male friendships, race, and politics, he is back with a new play, which focuses on the purpose of art in Statement Piece.

I caught up with him to find out more about the play, which kicks off Checkpoint Theatre’s 2025 season.

Synopsis
Two weeks after a loss that reverberates through the nation, a young gallerist prepares for her first exhibition. Lily has endured constant pressure from her formidable boss, spent countless hours on research, revved up the public for a buzzworthy show – everything for the perfect opening that will cement her name in the art world. The months of suffering are about to pay off at last.

But when the final painting arrives, hand-delivered by the reclusive Gopal Rangaraj himself, she is horrified. With the entire exhibition—and her fledgling career—on the line, even the surprise visit from her artist girlfriend Marjia can’t cushion the gravity of the situation.

As three different worldviews collide, how much should be sacrificed in the name of Art?

What inspired you to write Statement Piece?

While studying in Chicago, I was spending a lot of time with American artists and having conversations about freedom of speech, the ethics of representation, and the peculiar challenges of being an artist in our era. I’d share Singapore idiosyncrasies with my peers about art-making, which led to me thinking deeper about how Singapore’s art world works and its relationship with our existing systems. These ideas eventually took root and led to Statement Piece.

As your main artistic practice is the the literary arts, what made you choose the visual arts as the main context of the plot?

I write prose and plays, review movies, and host a podcast about comic books—medium is always on my mind. What does one medium do that another can’t? Plays don’t have page-turns, comic books don’t have line breaks, and the central painting in Statement Piece has no dialogue.

Art is only finished when it’s viewed by its audience, but the way an audience finishes the work varies greatly depending on the media. I wanted to put interpretation front and centre in this script, to ask questions about what it means to look at a work, what we are doing when we try to “understand” art. We’re always trying to finish the work we’re looking at, whether it’s subconscious or not. Bringing the painting into the theatre is my way of making that process explicit.

What is the biggest challenge in writing this play?

The biggest challenge of writing this play was probably its relationship to the art world. I want it to feel authentic but I also don’t want to be bogged down by the details. I want the script to be accessible and open, so anyone can approach its ideas without feeling boxed out. The Checkpoint Theatre development process has been integral to finding this balance.

The cast rehearsing Statement Piece. / Courtesy of Checkpoint Theatre

Were there any interesting discoveries seeing your characters come to life in rehearsals?

It’s not quite a discovery but it really is always such a joy to watch this world you built come to life. The joy of playwriting is that you get to hand it off to other people, and when those people are as talented, thoughtful, and generous as Claire Wong, Huzir Sulaiman, Tricia Tan, Rusydina Afiqah, and all the other incredible people in the art, set, lighting, sound, costume, and make-up team, you’re very very lucky.

What is the most pressing issue or question that Singaporean artists should think about?

I don’t think I can prescribe a single issue to every Singaporean artist. If anything, the question every Singaporean artist should be asking themselves is, “what do I want from my work?” Because that’s really the only thing you can control.

Do you want to create societal change? Do you want to provide emotional catharsis? Do you want to make people laugh? All of these are valid questions and should be guiding how we make our work. It really depends on what is personally most important to them, which is actually one of the central questions of Statement Piece.

Catch It!

Statement Piece runs from 3 to 13 April 2025 at the Drama Centre Black Box.

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[Theatre Review] ‘Brown Boys Don’t Tell Jokes’ by Checkpoint Theatre: The Joke’s on All of Us

/ Isaac Tan / 3 Comments

Photo: Joseph Nair / Courtesy of Checkpoint Theatre

Brown Boys Don’t Tell Jokes
Checkpoint Theatre
24 March 2023
Drama Centre Black Box 
23 March–2 April 2023

A musician, an activist, an academic, and a therapist walk into a politician’s house on the eve of an election. The showdown that ensues is unexpected as the characters, save for the politician, thought this was just a group of friends catching up for old time’s sake.

There may be a sense of camaraderie in the shorthand that one develops with friends, but without examining the intention and context that underlie them, the in-jokes, nicknames, and quips soon become barbs. 

As Tesh, an aspiring member of parliament, enlists the help of his friends due to a looming political scandal, friendships are pushed to the limits, and intentions are questioned, as old or unresolved conflicts emerge. Barbs and hands fly quick and fast. 

It is in this messy slugfest that playwright Myle Yan Tay interrogates race, politics, class, and censorship. Issues such as minority representation in media and politics; what constitutes the brown community; and whether cancel culture is going too far—among other topics—are unleashed on us in unrelenting waves.  

The topics covered might make the production seem like an argumentative essay in costume, but it is far from that. The topics are raised organically, depending on what the characters clashed about, and we are not brow-beaten into any position. 

But where we really see the playwright’s skill is that as we lean towards all the characters being complex and irreducible to a set of identity markers, we are yanked back to the reality that there are some issues affecting all of them simply on the basis of their skin colour. One is unsure of one’s stand, but as a Chinese man, I find myself keenly absorbing every nuance and complexion presented.

Not turning a provocative play into something overly didactic or having a woe-is-me protagonist, while offering several insights to mull on is difficult for any playwright, let alone for one debuting his first full-length play. 

L-R: Dev (Krish Natarajan), Adam (Shahid Nasheer), Tesh (Gosteloa Spancer), Scott (Ebi Shankara), Fizzy (Adib Kosnan)
Photo: Joseph Nair / Courtesy of Checkpoint Theatre

As most of the stage time mirrors real time, and all the action occurs in Tesh’s living room, it is easy for the show to be derailed into an endless shouting match. The sophistication in Huzir Sulaiman’s direction coupled with the sheer commitment from the wonderful cast mean that every moment is filled with pregnant intensity. 

Our attention is drawn to different parts of the room when the fissures occur. But if one were to cast an eye on the other characters observing the situation, you can feel the simmering tension, as you wonder what would happen next. 

Gosteloa Spancer’s portrayal of Tesh may be slightly tentative initially. But by the time he delivers the key monologue, he has the audience latching on to every word. 

Ebi Shankara’s Scott, a therapist who moved to the US, may be the most easy-going of the lot, as he bears the brunt of jokes about him escaping Singapore or adopting Americanisms. However, domestic troubles gradually bubble to the surface. Witnessing how Shankara allows his character to stew in his problems until the inevitable revelation is a delight. 

Krish Natarajan plays Dev, a musician who provided most of the comic relief due to his cheeky demeanour. But one should look out for the handling of Dev’s character arc as he becomes more circumspect when Tesh’s predicament compels him to reflect on his past.

Watching Adib Kosnan play Fizzy—an ardent activist seeking to effect change via social media—is a refreshing change to his mild-mannered character in a previous collaboration with Checkpoint Theatre, Keluarga Besar En. Karim. This is also a testament to his versatility as an actor.

Adam, a jaded academic caught in an unjustified social media maelstrom caused by Fizzy, is understandably sceptical and guarded. Shahid Nasheer’s keen sense of timing allows Adam to play devil’s advocate as he curtly interrogates everyone’s intentions.

The other cast members—Isabella Chiam (Marina, Tesh’s wife); Lareina Tham (Caroline, Tesh’s assistant); Vishnucharan Naidu (Ravi, Tesh’s intern);  Hang Qian Chou and Chaney Chia (cameramen)—serve to emphasise how politics is heavily reliant on optics.

The Singapore theatre canon is no stranger to tackling race issues. Only time will tell if Brown Boys Don’t Tell Jokes will be added to it.

However, with so much to think about, the joke’s on all of us if we don’t move the conversation forward on race issues, and figure out ways to coëxist better. 

Other Reviews

“Theatre review: Brown Boys Don’t Tell Jokes offers detailed characterisation and serious themes” by Ong Sor Fern, The Straits Times Life! (Review is behind a paywall. Read a partial transcript here)

“Brown Boys Don’t Tell Jokes“ by Naeem Kapadia, Crystalwords

“Review: Dia Hakim on Brown Boys Don’t Tell Jokes by Myle Yan Tay (Checkpoint Theatre)” by Dia Hakim, Critics Circle Blog

[Interview] Myle Yan Tay explores the evolution of male friendships in ‘Brown Boys Don’t Tell Jokes’

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Courtesy of Checkpoint Theatre

Checkpoint Theatre kicks off its 2023 season with the premier of Brown Boys Don’t Tell Jokes, a play by its associate artist, Myle Yan Tay.

With the play being promised as a “nuanced and unflinching examination of friendship, race, and masculinity in our country”, I caught up with the playwright to find out more about his inspirations behind the play.

Synopsis

The eve of an election. A politician, a musician, an activist, an academic, and a therapist reunite after several years.

As the five friends catch up on the different paths their lives have taken, they realise their rose-tinted memories might be the only thing holding them together.

With secrets unravelling, old conflicts reawakening, and a threat looming, the five are forced to confront the boys they once were, and the men they want to become.

What was the inspiration behind Brown Boys Don’t Tell Jokes? Was there a particular incident that compelled you to explore male friendships?

The emotional inspiration was hanging out with my friends and thinking about what our conversations will be like in 15–20 years. Will we still laugh at the same things? Will we still be as close? What secrets will we have? That was the first step, but the characters are very far from my friends. They were the initial spark for me to start thinking about friendship and male intimacy.

The more artistic inspirations were two plays: The Boys in the Band by Mart Crowley and One Night in Miami by Kemp Powers. Both plays look at masculinity in such a specific way, concerned with larger societal issues, but located within this group of very human characters. And both works take place over a single evening, as these lifelong friendships become forever altered. That constraint was very appealing to me, to see how a situation like that can devolve.

What is the significance of the title?

I’ve been telling jokes my whole life. Some of them are funnier than others. Some have been hurtful. Jokes are often seen as funny and lighthearted but can also be used to deflect, distract, empower, and attack someone.

In a group of friends (who happen to be brown), what are the jokes that harm individuals and/or friendships? What are they laughing at? Who are they laughing with? That’s what the title is about, it’s about the confluence of race, masculinity, and comedy in Singapore. The jokes that are told can reveal a lot about the relationship between oneself and the relationships one has with others

What was the biggest challenge you faced while writing the play?

One of the biggest difficulties was trying to figure out when I was crossing the line. I knew I wanted the play to step into some taboo territory, but it was also trying to navigate when it should happen, when I should step back, and very often, when I had to go a few steps further.

Did you gain any new insights into your own friendships in the process of writing the play?

It’s definitely had me thinking about the concept of “growth”. That’s a major theme of the play, something I was intentionally exploring when writing Brown Boys Don’t Tell Jokes.

But seeing the actors bring it to life and make those friendships tangible puts it even more in focus—because these are five men who have grown together and grown apart. Now that they’re together again, they’re regressing to those older versions of themselves.

So the thing I’ve been thinking about is how can friendship allow transformation? And how does it encourage stagnation?

What is one advice you would give a young man transiting into adulthood?

Gosh, I hardly feel qualified to do that. I guess it would be to think about your position. What biases are you carrying because of how you exist in the world? What are you allowed to get away with because you’re a man? And how can you help people from your position?

Catch It!

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[Comic Book Review] Putu Piring – A Ruminative Snack

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The nostalgia that I write about, that I study, that I feel, is the ache that arises from the consciousness of lost connection.

Michael Chabon, ‘The True Meaning of Nostalgia’, The New Yorker

If Chabon’s characterisation is accurate, the “consciousness of lost connections” could not be more keenly felt during the circuit breaker period (a nation-wide lockdown in all but name) at the height of the COVID-19 pandemic in 2020.  

It is out of this context that Putu Piring is conceived. 

The lost connection is manifested in “the ghost of a wild boar” as a man decides to buy putu piring (steamed rice cakes) and cycles to a park―his favourite childhood haunt―to feed the wild boar. En route, he contemplates the various changes in his life. 

Like a well-prepared dish, Tay’s text is sparse yet impactful, as he manages to encapsulate the changes in the protagonist’s life with a few food items that serve as striking metaphors. 

In an interview, writer Myle Yan Tay explained that he chose putu piring for his story because it is sentimental yet current; it evokes a sense of the past, yet it is still around today. In a similar vein, the contemplations of the protagonist straddles being elegiac and coming to terms with the changes. Such a choice strikes the right chord as it leaves space for the reader to contemplate about one’s own life in tandem with the protagonist. 

Illustration by Shuxian Lee

Shuxian Lee’s illustrations may appear simple, but they have some delightful subtleties. She uses shades of brown for scenes in the past to give it a sepia complexion. This is in contrast to the monochromatic colour scheme for the present. However, the contrast is not too stark and there are portions where past and present seem to meld together. This is in harmony with the aims of the plot that straddles both past and present.

There is a striking use of small panels in various sections of the comic, which only shows an element of the whole picture such as the snout of the wild boar or the fingers of the protagonist’s grandfather. This resembles the nature of our memories as we tend to recall in vignettes. Additionally, it complements the literary elements such as placing emphasis on the culinary metaphors. 

With it being only 20 pages long, Putu Piring might be bite-sized as compared to other comics. However, it offers a flavourful bite that tempts one to crave for more. 

Further Reading

Interview with Myle Yan Tay and Shuxian Lee on Putu Piring

[Comic Book Review] Through the Longkang #1 – Paranormal Intrigues

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Through the Longkang #1
Myle Yan Tay (writer) and Shuxian Lee (artist)
Checkpoint Theatre (2021) / 20 pp.

The second collaboration between Myle Yan Tay and Shuxian Lee brings us the start of a trilogy that delves into the paranormal. 

Through the Longkang brings together the well-loved elements of action-adventure, mystery, and intimations of the paranormal tales that those born in the 1990s and earlier grew up with. 

We are immediately thrown into the heart of the action as Fishball and Brick find a punctured football on a beach, and one of them (they are not clearly identified as neither of them is addressed by name) has a psychic insight upon touching the ball. 

It is revealed that a teenager went down into the longkang (canal) to retrieve a football. Upon climbing out of the longkang, he suddenly found himself exiting a well and saw an abandoned bungalow with a rather inviting swing. Horrors ensue. Our heroes hope to save the boy before it is too late. 

The well being the portal between the longkang and the abandoned bungalow reminds us of horror stories of suicides and wrongful deaths. Could this be related to the disappearance of the teenager? Is Myle Yan Tay bringing in certain local cultural tropes and recontextualising them for a new audience?

Ilustration by Shuxian Lee

As for the art, it is wonderful to see what Shuxian Lee can do with grey, white, black, red, and the occasional dash of brown. Her minimal approach truly exemplifies how less can be more. 

Her backgrounds resemble charcoal drawings, lending the story an ominous feel. Need to make the bungalow look sinister? Simply add shades of red, and highlight the entrance with white to indicate the light is on, while making it appear that the building has eyes and a mouth.

Additionally, the irregular layout of the panels adds a certain dynamism to the action, without needing to add more details to the drawing itself. This is best exemplified in choosing to have two small squares on the top left to show the teenager emerging from the well, while the rest of the two-page spread depicts the sprawling bungalow. 

That said, the first instalment will leave impatient readers unsatisfied as all it does is to set up the story of how a teenager went missing. It is unclear why this is planned as a trilogy. If the other instalments are of similar length, the trilogy could simply be a self-contained comic book. 

However, the set-up is intriguing enough for one to look forward to the rest of the series just to see what other elements will be brought in, and what effect the serialisation has on the overall story-telling.

Through the Longkang #1 is published by Checkpoint Theatre and retails at $7.90 (e-book) and $10.90 (hardcopy).

To purchase a copy, visit Checkpoint Theatre’s online shop.

Checkpoint Theatre Publishes First Comic Book – Putu Piring

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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.

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