Neo Kim Seng at a post-show dialogue with audiences at “The Vault: My Grandfather’s Road” (2017).

By Neo Kim Seng
Published on 14 January 2020

I only remember two shows I watched at Action Theatre at 42 Waterloo Street. The first was Alfian Sa’at The Optic Trilogy in 2001. The set included a few CRT TVs and I was quite impressed by the way they were used in the production. The other show was Yak Aik Wee’s Streetwalkers in 2009. That was also the last time I visited 42 Waterloo Street before it closed in 2012.

In Centre 42’s first year of operation, I felt it operated like an underground exclusive members only club and the general public, even myself, didn’t know much about its activities. Then the Centre started organising more events, many people came and it has been that busy ever since.

Actor Tan Cher Kian performing the Malaysian Cantonese version of “The Vault: My Grandfather’s Road” (2017).

I first approached Centre 42 about the Cantonese version of My Grandfather’s Road (MGR) in early 2017. I wasn’t quite sure when Centre 42 proposed that MGR be presented under The Vault’s platform as The Vault was more looking at responses to established local texts. MGR was written and published only in 2015, but I guess it qualified because it was my response to the English text.

White Rabbit, Red Rabbit by Nassim Soleimanpour and An Oak Tree by Tim Crouch inspired me to experiment with the idea that MGR should not be over-rehearsed to keep MGR’s sincerity and raw emotions. These two plays featured performers who were only handed the script just moments before the performance or fed lines via an earpiece.  I really appreciated the vulnerability and sincerity of the performers in those two productions.

I did not want to work with seasoned actors for the Cantonese version. I wanted to work with new blood and then see them grow in their own ways – I do this in my other work as well, for example in programming. So I worked with Bjorn Lee Varella (2015) and Tan Cher Kian aka CK (2017, 2018) and Gary Tang (2017, 2018), as they were quite new on stage or last acted a long time ago. Another important criteria for all the performers was that I didn’t know them previously.

Kim Seng (centre) with actors Gary Tang (left) and Tan Cher Kian (right) beneath the Neo Pee Teck Lane street sign at “The Vault: My Grandather’s Road” (2017).

For the English version, I asked Karen Tan (2018, 2019) and Loong Seng Onn (2019) to come onboard as I wanted to try something else. I’ve never shared my personal stories with them before. How would this new knowledge affect how they see me and the character(s) they play on stage?  I would need to work with actors I’m familiar and comfortable with for this to work, and I’ve known Karen and Seng Onn for almost 30 years.

Karen and I spent a lot of time sharing our own stories. This was very important because it help to open up new possibilities and explorations. Karen helped a lot to clarify and restructure the script for the 2018 version, also performed at Centre 42. Seng Onn came onboard in late 2018 and the final performance structure of the English script for the 2019 version (part of the Esplanade’s The Studios season) was his doing. During one Saturday afternoon, instead of rehearsing, he broke down the stories into its essential parts on the white board at Centre 42 and asked me to restructure and rewrite the piece. So Karen and Seng Onn were my dramaturgs.

The different Cantonese versions were developed in three phases over two years. I deliberately kept a distance from CK and Gary while working on the first staging in 2017, to allow themselves to find my voice in the piece themselves. But by the second and third iterations (in 2018 and 2019 respectively), we became more comfortable with each other, and just like Karen, they started interrogating me about my life. We traded stories and some of their own stories were incorporated into the script.

During one of the warm-up sessions before the Cantonese performance in 2018, Karen said that I should consider putting CK and Gary together on stage as they have very different energies. That was how the Cantonese duologue for Esplanade in 2019 came about. (The idea for the English duologue came shortly after that!) CK, Gary and I brainstormed the new version and how to make it coherent. Some sections of the script were written on-site at Centre 42, some were homework for them.

Actors Loong Seng Onn and Karen Tan performing the English duologue version of “My Grandfather’s Road (RHDS)” (2019).
Photo: Law Kian Yan

The brown wooden benches of Centre 42 have been an essential part of the MGR set since 2017, and have naturally evolved as part of MGR because of their versatility as we found different ways of using them. The 2017 and 2018 presentations used one table and two stools to evoke the one-table two-chairs idea of storytelling – simple props to support the stories.

Why am I telling all these Centre 42 and MGR stories that took place at 42 Waterloo Street? It is a place where I found out more about myself when I opened up to my actors in a way never before, even with my own family.

It is a place where I shared intimate personal stories with CK, Gary, Karen and Seng Onn, many of them will stay within the rooms of 42 Waterloo Street.

It is a place where friends and strangers found out about me, even more so than the years they know me.

It is a place where I Instagram-ed a Singaporean mango. (It’s the only local fruit in my ongoing Instagram project about the origins and journeys of fruits found in Singapore.)

It is a place where I started to research more about and reconnect with my family and long-lost relatives and friends, my mother tongue, Cantonese, and my roots.

It is place where I had to choose between truth and honesty.

Neo Kim Seng is a crossdisciplinary practitioner who has been involved in independent and large-scale projects in various capacities in Singapore and overseas since 1987. Besides fruit, he has also documented his journey with “My Grandfather’s Road”.

Read the other essays in this series about the blue house on 42 Waterloo Street:

The House on 42 Waterloo Street

“There’s always another performance to look forward to next month” by Eugene Koh

“Sebuah Play_Draft 28″ by Hazwan Norly

“The Passage of Time” by Jocelyn Chng

“It almost feels like there’s nothing I’ve not done at the blue house” by Juliana Kassim Chan

Juliana Kassim Chan (extreme right) performing in a showcase with her LASALLE classmates during an eight-week residency at Centre 42 in 2019.

By Juliana Kassim Chan
Published on 14 January 2020

I don’t remember the first time I visited Centre 42, but I remember vividly how amused I was that this building was so different than all the other monochromatic architecture most of us are used to when we think of art spaces. I’m quite sure I even giggled and said out loud to my friends, “My god, it’s blue!”

There’s a comfort that lives within this place, like that one spot you always hung out at in secondary school with your clique.  If I had to live in a performing space (which I admit is a strange premise to put myself in), it would be Centre 42, hands down.

It almost feels like there’s nothing I’ve not done at the blue house.

Upon graduating from polytechnic I went through the all-too-familiar ‘now what?’ phase, and eventually decided that applying for the Arts Management programme at LASALLE would be the perfect balance of practicality and creativity. I was accepted, but something didn’t feel quite right. So I did what any young and spritely adult would do – try a little bit of everything.

Juliana (circled) performing in “Family” (2016) by the Second Breakfast Company.

Around the same time, Bound Theatre came together to devise an original production titled Invasion. Hungry and clueless, we were nomads and the Rehearsal Studio and Meeting Room at Centre 42 became our temporary home. It was also my first time producing a theatre show. Bringing people into the space was my first taste of creative liberation. There were places for us to tell the world we exist!

I was gaining confidence that I could create work and there were spaces for me to do it, but what I really wanted to do was act. Anyone toying with the idea of making acting a profession has probably been through a moment of second, third, fourth guessing. How could it ever be possible, right?! On a whim, I auditioned for The Second Breakfast Company’s debut production of Family. In our weekly sessions I found a community of young actors and driven creators. I loved every part of it, and kept thinking to myself, “This is it. This is what I want my life to be.” That was also my first time performing at Centre 42.

In the haze of not knowing what to do, I remember sitting with the director of a show I was involved in at the Starbucks down Waterloo Street. It was my first time stage managing. In between rehearsals, I had confided in her that I was afraid of pursuing acting because I didn’t know if it could be a viable career. I didn’t know if I was good enough to do it. I don’t remember her words exactly, but it was blunt, honest and was everything I needed to hear but was too afraid to tell myself. That conversation was the hard nudge to the path I wanted to venture on.

So I did it. I applied for the Acting programme at LASALLE and promised myself that I would make it work. Fast forward three years later, and my class of graduating actors find out that we have a residency at the blue house planned for us. Not only were we going to spend eight weeks there, we also had the opportunity to curate our own experience. The result was a carousel of industry creators that we learned from and created work with. It was truly an explosion of creative juices, eight weeks straight!

Juliana (left) hosting a post-show dialogue during her class’s eight-week residency at Centre 42 in 2019.

We got to create our own audio plays, learn the basics of jazz dance, create our own devised work, direct and write our own plays. Every day was a new adventure, not without a cup of Kopi from the coffee shop opposite, of course. It’s surreal comparing myself where I am now to where I was a few years ago. Some things remain the same, of course. You’ll still find me snacking outside the rehearsal studio, or loitering outside the library running lines. But the ability to now say, “Yes, I am an actor” is a result of all the moments I’ve collected being inspired by the people around me. I owe it all to those who have empowered me to go for what I truly want. Centre 42 has a soft spot in my heart for being that place I could fail at, embarrass myself at, and discover new worlds at.

It almost feels like there’s nothing I’ve not done at the blue house, but I know that there’s so much more that can be done. With graduation right around the corner, the possibilities truly feel endless. Who knows what I’ll do here next. The only thing I know is that this isn’t the last time. I’ll make sure of it.

Juliana Kassim Chan is an actor, voiceover artist and drama educator. She is currently receiving formal acting training at LASALLE College of the Arts and is a recipient of the Veda Mekani Scholarship for Performing Arts.

Read the other essays in this series about the blue house on 42 Waterloo Street:

The House on 42 Waterloo Street

“There’s always another performance to look forward to next month” by Eugene Koh

“Sebuah Play_Draft 28″ by Hazwan Norly

“The Passage of Time” by Jocelyn Chng

“A Singaporean Mango” by Neo Kim Seng

Hazwan Norly (extreme right) with the rest of Main Tulis Group celebrating their first birthday in 2017 at Centre 42.

By Hazwan Norly
Published on 14 January 2020

Whenever I try to think about my journey as a playwright/theatre-maker over the last decade, the first thing that usually comes to mind is the multiple times I have found myself sleep-deprived, and manically trying to write a new play, a new scene, or choreograph something that needs to be submitted or reviewed the next day. I think about the many times I’ve questioned my own aptitude as a writer and theatre-maker (in between puffs of cigarettes and generous amounts of coffee), and have wanted to call it quits because why put myself through so much heartache?

I know, so dramatic for what, right?

“Tompang”, a short play written by Hazwan, performed at Late-Night Texting 2017.

Never would I have imagined that in all of that self-perceived calamity I would be one of nine founding members of a playwright collective like Main Tulis Group, let alone being able to call a place like Centre 42 our home for the last four years. From writing a short play read in the Black Box featuring a foul-mouthed, tudung-wearing lesbian to co-writing another with two angels leading a mass dance workout in the Front Courtyard, the journey has definitely been fun. Getting the opportunity to create varying types of new work at the blue house has not only allowed me the space to experiment, but also rediscover the kind of artist I want to be, and the kind of stories I want to champion or tell.

It’s heartening trying to recall our first Main Tulis Group meeting because it felt like we were just a rag tag team of people who were really just looking for someone to help us take apart our work, without the need to be too politically correct all the time. I can’t speak for everyone in the group, but I wanted a space where people could tell me exactly what they thought about my work, and why they felt that way, so that I could be more informed when I’m editing it, or writing my next one.

It was definitely intimidating at first because while I already knew most of the people in the group, I’ve never really been in a setting where they’re reading my play aloud only to tear it down afterwards. Everyone brought to the table a different perspective when it comes to writing and dissecting new work, which then allowed me to see my work in ways I couldn’t have imagined by myself. It was really quite thrilling because I felt like I was being challenged at every meeting.

Apart from getting my own work reviewed, it was also important to my journey that I could also critique everyone else’s plays in our ‘Script Circle’ sessions. These sessions also made me realise the art of providing reviews and feedback for the drafts of plays, which better informed how I reviewed my own drafts before presenting them.

Being a part of such a diverse group also meant that everyone had a distinct style and voice. This became quite apparent from our very first Late Night Texting in 2017 where we coined the ETA: 9 mins programme featuring nine-minute plays by nine playwrights. The experience was quite surreal because it was the first time I was able to present a play that had already been critiqued by eight other playwrights, so I could improve it even before it was performed.

“Heavy Weight”, co-written by Hazwan and Nabilah Said, was performed in the Front Courtyard at Late-Night Texting 2019.

Late Night Texting 2017 was also the first time I was openly writing about LGBT issues, especially because I viewed my orientation as something very private at the time. I remember the play had gone through many drafts, and what had struck me about the many drafts was how much I felt I had to censor myself, even though the play wasn’t about me. Later, I found out that someone in the audience had found my play uncomfortable, even though the audience was laughing during the run, and the play was really about re-examining the meaning and experience of love for different people.

Whether it was for Late Night Texting, or other festivals like the BuySingLit Festival, the last four years creating new work at Centre 42 has helped me define myself as a playwright/theatre-maker. It was at the blue house where I discovered the stories I truly wanted to tell, and the style of work I wanted to experiment with. I’ve grown to love putting out countless drafts, even though I’m still manic writing into the night because I’ve grown to love the process. And so to that I say, to many more drafts, and to making more people uncomfortable.

Hazwan Norly is a writer and theatre practitioner. He is also co-founder of the collectives Main Tulis Group and Rupa co.lab.

Read the other essays in this series about the blue house on 42 Waterloo Street:

The House on 42 Waterloo Street

“There’s always another performance to look forward to next month” by Eugene Koh

“The Passage of Time” by Jocelyn Chng

“It almost feels like there’s nothing I’ve not done at the blue house” by Juliana Kassim Chan

“A Singaporean Mango” by Neo Kim Seng

Eugene Koh (extreme left) performing in “The Vault: Project Understudy” in 2016 with the rest of NUS Thespis.

By Eugene Koh
Published on 14 January 2020

It is at once a bustling rehearsal compound, a retreat for writers, and a festival ground of ideas. The house itself is unassuming and quaint, its facade just like a house that any child would draw, square with pitched roofs, complete with the cloud hanging over it. On a typical weekday, it is quiet and still, at night sometimes filled with the murmurs of a line read, testing the words of a new creation. On some weekends, there are emotive arguments, some fictional, some not. And there’s always another performance to look forward to next month.

“With/Out” by Loo Zihan, staged in the Rehearsal Studio as part of the M1 Singapore Fringe Festival 2015.

It is the same building, but it never looks quite the same every time I step into it. In 2016, the carpet flooring of the Rehearsal Studio feels comfortable as my fellow writers and I sit around a table, typing away on a shared document for Project Understudy under The Vault. Yet, one year ago, I wander through this very same room transformed into a completely different world with bright lights, recording equipment, and exhibition materials for Loo Zihan’s installation With/Out for M1 Singapore Fringe Festival. And at Late Night Texting 2019, the Rehearsal Studio becomes a room of short and quick dramatic picks, where I am an audience member seated on the carpeted floor, entranced by a moving play by Brown Voices.

There were projects: With Project Understudy, a team of seven writers including me worked out a sequel to Tan Tarn How’s Undercover. We took a classic play from the 90s and responded to it, extending the universe of the original story into a fictional present. It was exciting and, at times, hilarious. We were really creating a fanfiction of Undercover. The Vault allowed us to respond to historical Singaporean theatre pieces, but even more than that, it allowed us the freedom to geek out and imagine the what-ifs beyond the original.

“The Vault: @thisisemeraldgirl”, written by Eugene, was performed in 2018 at Centre 42.

In the first Late Night Texting, all the venues in the Centre were packed back-to-back with play-reads, performances, spoken poetry and more.  I had written 3 Rules of Whore, staged by Saga Seed Theatre as part of Seedy Stories. In 2019, a piece that my friends and I created for The Vault, @thisisemeraldgirl, was restaged at Late-Night Texting. It is always a dizzying experience for anyone’s written work to be spoken in front of a listening audience. But with Late Night Texting, new works are given the license to be heard without expectations of perfection – this is why I look forward to it every year, both as artist and audience.

Even on quieter days, there is always a sense of activity around the house. There are rehearsals, meetings and discussions all the time. When I worked on Bintang Temasek under Saga Seed’s Incubation Programme in 2017, the Meeting Room provided the physical location of this incubation. My work was scrutinised, quibbled over, and edited several times by my mentors. The cosy room gave a sense of familiarity and comfort within which a performance could grow and flourish. And this experience is constant throughout the various times I have been in the Centre’s spaces. Most recently, working on The Utama Spaceship for M1 Singapore Fringe Festival 2020, the security of knowing that we have a space to work out our ideas gave me the confidence as both a creator and an actor to push the work to greater heights.

There are many times when a performance or rehearsal would end late at night, and I become one of the last few people to leave the blue house, a pre-war bungalow transformed by the art it houses. Each time I come back, I am excited for the new experiences and discoveries that await a day’s work. The place is kept alive through the activity of the community that enters and exits through its gates, breathing works into it. And as always, there’s always another performance to look forward to next month.

Eugene Koh is an aspiring text-based theatre-maker with a degree in Theatre Studies (Distinction) at the National University of Singapore.

Read the other essays in this series about the blue house on 42 Waterloo Street:

The House on 42 Waterloo Street

“Sebuah Play_Draft 28″ by Hazwan Norly

“The Passage of Time” by Jocelyn Chng

“It almost feels like there’s nothing I’ve not done at the blue house” by Juliana Kassim Chan

“A Singaporean Mango” by Neo Kim Seng

Jocelyn Chng performing in “The Vault: Becoming Mother” (2017).

By Jocelyn Chng
Published on 14 January 2020

“Buildings are storage houses and museums of time and silence. Architectural structures have the capacity of transforming, speeding up, slowing down and halting time.”

Pallasmaa, J. (2007). Space Place Memory and Imagination: The Temporal Dimension of Existential Space. In M. A. Andersen (Ed.), Nordic Architects Write: A Documentary Anthology (pp. 188-201). London: Routledge.

The blue house at 42 Waterloo Street has been etched firmly in my mind as a space, both physical and otherwise, that I will always hold dear. I do remember the time when the physical premises was the home of Action Theatre – I had attended a few performances in the black box upstairs, and always wanted to try the restaurant in the courtyard but never got around to it! However, those memories are hazy, partly due to time, but also partly because I was only a passerby in the space, never lingering long enough for the space to touch me.

Jocelyn (right) and Nidya Shanthini (left) performing in “The Vault: Becoming Mother” (2017).

Only in the past five years or so, when Centre 42 took up residence there, did my relationship with the space evolve – from being a transient visitor to gradually coming to feel at home, where I can comfortably show people where the toilets are, and know how to lock up the space if I am the last to leave.

In the past few years, over which my memories of the space have crystallised, time seems to have passed very quickly and yet simultaneously slowly. My first memory at Centre 42 was in 2015 but feels as vivid as if it happened only in the past year. I showed up one afternoon for a recce for rehearsal space, gingerly making my way round to the back trying to locate the office. Finally I was greeted by Yanling, who gave me a tour of the house, and I went on my way. Who would know that I would be back before long, and many more times after.

At the same time, my memories of 2016 and 2017 at Centre 42 feel like a long period, one in which time slowed down. I was working on the Vault project Becoming Mother, and spent many mornings, afternoons and nights in the various spaces of the compound. We rehearsed mostly in the Meeting Room as its floor was most suitable for dancing, but it is also easily my favourite room. I love it for its odd shape and view into the Inner Courtyard where you can see plants growing outside. During the time when I was rehearsing there, I knew exactly how many windows were on one wall of the Meeting Room. When I needed to work on my laptop, I would move a table right against the floor-to-ceiling windows and sit facing the courtyard so I could see outside. I can still remember the way the morning sunlight slowly spilled into the room, casting long diagonal shadows on the floor, as I lay on it warming up.

I also love the Inner Courtyard. At the time there was a wooden bench in the courtyard, dark brown and misshapen, but full of character. I would pass by every time and say hello to the bright orange fungus that had made the bench its home. Dark brown, bright orange, and the bright blue of the walls – a perfectly alluring colour combination that sticks in my memory and makes me strangely calm, despite being someone who usually detests bright colours.

The orange fungus growing on a wooden stool in the Inner Courtyard.
Photo: Jocelyn Chng

Over the years, my accumulated memories of the Black Box from passing through as audience member, performer and crew, can be rather disorienting. I’ve lost track of the number of performances, talks and readings I’ve watched in the Black Box, with various audience configurations and uses of space – testament to the creative energy for which the space is a continuing repository.

On the crew of productions, one of the memories that I savour the least, but yet sticks with me, is sweeping the entire Black Box, a job I did not relish in the low light conditions and with the annoying grooves in the floor! But my most treasured memory in the Black Box is the first day of bump-in for Becoming Mother. As with many bump-ins, there is the feeling of not quite being ready, combined with excitement that anything can happen. I remember lying on my back warming up as usual, with my legs in the air, staring at my feet against the high ceiling. I had never seen the Black Box from that angle before, and I thought it was beautiful.

While the face that many people see of Centre 42 is likely one of bustling activity surrounding the hundreds of events that take place there, I realise as I write that my fondest memories are not of those, but of quiet moments. I believe that one’s relationship with a space, like with people, is personal. And I hope to continue building and treasuring that relationship for many years to come.

Jocelyn Chng is a freelance practitioner, writer and educator in dance and theatre. She has a keen interest in issues of culture and history, both personal and in wider societal/national contexts.

Read the other essays in this series about the blue house on 42 Waterloo Street:

The House on 42 Waterloo Street

“There’s always another performance to look forward to next month” by Eugene Koh

“Sebuah Play_Draft 28″ by Hazwan Norly

“It almost feels like there’s nothing I’ve not done at the blue house” by Juliana Kassim Chan

“A Singaporean Mango” by Neo Kim Seng

Reception in the Front Courtyard at “In the Living Room: William Teo’s Asia-in-Theatre Research Circus” in 2017.

Centre 42’s home at 42 Waterloo Street is really old. But just how old exactly? We’re not entirely sure. What we do know is that the house must have seen a lot in its lifetime, evolving from a home for families, to a commercial space, and in recent years, back to being a home – for the arts.

Before 1995

42 Waterloo Street (circled), circa 1960.
Source: The Long Winding Road blog

Records are sketchy as to when the house at 42 Waterloo Street was first built. Doraikannu Jawharilal, who used to be a resident at 42 Waterloo Street, told the New Paper that the house was built in the early 1930s, dating the age of the structure at 80 years. But it could be much, much older. According to the National Heritage Board website Roots.sg, the bungalow could have been built over 127 years ago!

The book Singapore Eurasians: Memories of Hopes refers to Waterloo Street and its neighbouring streets as “the foremost Eurasian enclave” at the turn of the 20th century. The bungalows in the area were described as “large compounds with massive trees and stone pillars at the entrance to the compound”, which sounds very much like 42 Waterloo Street.

In the early 1900s, the house was the home of the de Souza family. At some point in history, likely around the 1930s, the rooms in the bungalow were let out to multiple tenants. Doraikannu said the house had been divided into “about 20 rooms but only one kitchen and one toilet which all the tenants used to share.” He estimates that 50 tenants lived at 42 Waterloo Street in the 1960s.

On 22 Sep 1969, the property was sold in a public auction and converted into a commercial space. 42 Waterloo Street then became the operating address for the Dharmapala P. Company, which offered “engraving on all types of metals, cups & trophies by hand”. The company appears to have folded in 1977 following a notice for the sale of its equipment.

From that point, it looks like 42 Waterloo Street sat unoccupied for almost two decades.

(Story continues after the jump)

42 Waterloo Street, circa 2012, home to local theatre company Action Theatre. On the left is an outdoor performing area called The Stage Under The Mango Tree. On the right is the alfresco seating of Mexican restaurant Casa Latina.
Photo: Casa Latina

A home for Action Theatre

In 1995, the National Arts Council (NAC) put up 42 Waterloo Street for leasing as part of its Arts Housing Scheme. NAC’s goal was to turn Waterloo Street into an arts district, and by that year, several arts groups were already residing in the other historic properties in the area.

In 1996, NAC announced that 42 Waterloo Street had been allocated to Action Theatre. Action Theatre was formed in 1987 from a group of National University of Singapore graduates who wanted to pursue theatre-making in their spare time. Action Theatre registered as a society in 1988 and turned professional in the 1990s. Action Theatre primarily staged new plays from local playwrights like Ovidia Yu, Eleanor Wong and Desmond Sim.

Action Theatre’s artistic director Ekachai Uekrongtham had plans for the house – in the words of the project’s architect Vincent Lee, Ekachai wanted “a cross between Jim Thompson’s house in Bangkok – a landscaped setting in the middle of the city – and experimental, fringe theatres like Nimrod in Sydney”. Action Theatre’s new home was intended for theatre practitioners to experiment and develop new work.

From October 1998, the rundown property at 42 Waterloo Street underwent six months of extensive restoration and refurbishment. The second floor of the bungalow was gutted to create a small theatre with seating for 100. The ground floor would house the box office and a restaurant. Behind the bungalow, a new L-shaped extension was built for rehearsal spaces on the ground floor and Action Theatre’s offices on the second. There were also two outdoor stages on the compound, one in the front courtyard, the other nestled in the crook of the extension. Lush landscaping would further bring Ekachai’s “tropical theatre resort” vision to life. Renovation costs amounted to S$1.3 million, with NAC footing half and Action Theatre raising the remaining amount on their own.

Then-President Ong Teng Cheong (extreme left) being shown the newly-renovated 42 Waterloo Street in 1999.
Source:
Ministry of Information and the Arts Collection, National Archives of Singapore

On 28 May 1999, then-President Ong Teng Cheong came to tour the premises. On 12 November 1999, 42 Waterloo Street was officially declared open by Professor Tommy Koh, who had been NAC Chairman when Action Theatre was allocated the property.

For over a decade, Action Theatre at 42 Waterloo Street would be instrumental in developing local playwriting. Said Ekachai in 2001, “We’ve been continuously working towards realising our goal of turning [42 Waterloo Street] into a ‘greenhouse’ for incubating new works and new talents for Singapore theatre.”

To that end, Action Theatre ran a range of initiatives at 42 Waterloo Street, from a ten-minute playwriting competition to new works showcases like the 42 Theatre Festival. The intimately-sized theatre, known as The Room Upstairs, also saw the debuts of many loved and landmark works in Singapore theatre, such as Desmond Sim’s Autumn Tomyam and Alfian Sa’at’s The Optic Trilogy in 2001, and Jean Tay’s Everything but the Brain in 2005.

Action Theatre moved out of 42 Waterloo Street in 2012 and soon after ceased operations.

(Story continues after the jump)

Actor Serene Chen performing a reading of a local play during the soft-launch event of Centre 42 on 21 April 2014.

A blue era

In 2013, NAC announced intentions to refurbish 42 Waterloo Street and create a centre for the development of text-based works. It sought proposals from partners interested in developing and operating such a centre.

A collective called TAFY (Two-And-Fifty-Years) – comprising industry veterans Casey Lim, Michele Lim, Robin Loon and Chiu Chien Seen – submitted a proposal for a centre that would not only help to create new Singaporean works, but also document and promote Singapore theatre. This was Centre 42, named for its location at 42 Waterloo Street, and also in homage to Centre 65, an arts centre started by pioneering Singaporean playwright Goh Poh Seng in 1965 to promote arts and culture in the newly-independent nation.

The throngs of audience at Late-Night Texting 2019.

With a lick of bright blue paint, 42 Waterloo Street received its latest tenant in early 2014. On 7 July 2014, graced by then-Minister for Culture, Community and Youth Lawrence Wong, the blue house officially opened its doors to artists and audiences.

Centre 42 swiftly got to work, and within a couple years had launched a slew of programmes serving the Singapore theatre industry and public, which include incubation of new plays, archival of local theatre ephemera, and promotion of local theatre history, to name a few. Our showcase of new works and emerging theatre talents, Late-Night Texting, has also become a fixture on our yearly calendar since 2016. Held in conjunction with Singapore Night Festival, we’re able to introduce thousands of audience members to Singapore theatre each night.

Over the years, the blue house has become a birthplace of new theatrical works and new theatre-making groups. But more importantly, it has evolved into a community hub for theatre-makers and theatre enthusiasts, who regularly congregate within our blue walls, drawn together by their love for the stage. And with changes in the works for 2020 and beyond, the history of 42 Waterloo Street looks set for a new chapter.

Our six years at 42 Waterloo Street have been a whirlwind of creativity and experimentation – we’ve been home to more than 150 artists and collectives, and supported the development of over 200 new works. But don’t just hear about it from us! Instead, read what these five artists who have worked within our blue walls have to say about their time at Centre 42.

“There’s always another performance to look forward to next month” by Eugene Koh

“Sebuah Play_Draft 28″ by Hazwan Norly

“The Passage of Time” by Jocelyn Chng

“It almost feels like there’s nothing I’ve not done at the blue house” by Juliana Kassim Chan

“A Singaporean Mango” by Neo Kim Seng