AND SUDDENLY I DISAPPEAR: THE SINGAPORE ‘D’ MONOLOGUES by Access Path Productions

“And Suddenly I Disappear“

Reviewer: Lee Shu Yu 
Performance: 26 May 2018

As the pre-show multimedia dissolves into the first scene of And Suddenly I Disappear, Ramesh Meyyappan’s deft fingers trickle like water over a closed fist. Then, a narration says, “Be a river, be like water”.

The rest of the 90 minutes follows this course, a call for the redefinition of disability and how it is viewed in society. Directed by Phillip Zarrilli, And Suddenly I Disappear is an important piece of work that demands diversity and difference be visible and apparent. Aptly, it is led and performed by a team who identifies as d/Deaf and disabled. The work champions the Social Model that disability is a social construct, over the Charity Model of disability as being pitiful or inspirational.

These popular representations do indeed disappear, and what remains is a cheeky and self-assured assemblage of fictional voices.

Borne from rigorous research and interviews conducted in both Singapore and the UK, playwright Kaite O’Reilly’s text is simple and enjoyable to listen to. However, the stories expose the ableist prejudice present in society.

Some segments evoke laughter, like Can’t Do, in which the tenacious Sara Beer lists things she cannot do, including logarithms and filo pastry. Others provoke a quiet indignance, like Taxi Driver Karma (performed by Lim Lee Lee), which is about being taken advantage of by a seeing cabbie.

At its core, the work demands the acknowledgement that it is the physical and attitudinal barriers of society that disables, rather than one’s body.

Audio descriptions, physical theatre, captions and sign language ensure that And Suddenly I Disappear is as accessible as it is poignant. Performer and musician Daniel Bawthan’s haunting rap segments also provides good contrast to the entire piece.

But most striking is the way the work picks at the insidious discrimination in capitalist Singapore and the hypocrisy of our attitudes towards disability. Peter Sau plays an unnerving Machiavellian businessman with an invisible disability, celebrated for his ruthlessness. Meanwhile, the charming Grace Khoo laments that our national oneness has no room for misfits. So much for harmony in diversity.

Although the disparate stories threaten to pull in different directions, they do ensure complex representations. I, for one, enjoy the looseness of the vignettes, which resists the conflation of persons into a stereotype or a trope. Almost rhythmic in its pacing at times, the work never dwells nor wallows in the emotional or pitiful for the sake of drama.

Just like water, And Suddenly I Disappear is renewal; its representations are fluid and its diversity is refreshing. And just as in water, it promises to make more waves.