“Human, After All”

Reviewer: Liana Gurung
Performance: 1 August 2019

The energy, from the first, is dazzling. Audience members step into what looks uncannily like a miniature National Day Parade, waving paper flags while red-clad youths shimmy and strut across the stage. Even the arrangement of the seats is coliseum-like, circling the heart of the stage: a minimalist void deck, which transforms over the course of the performance from gathering spot, to classroom, to Malayan kampong. This transformation re-impresses the point: this place is what you make it to be.

The Community Theatre’s Block Party is a series of vignettes, strung together by the overarching question of what community is. Sometimes uproariously funny, at other times painfully raw, the polish of the performances belies the experience of its young and talented cast. By looking behind the closed walls of the eponymous blocks and tunneling into the hearts of our ubiquitous HDBs, the work gives us access to another kind of reality altogether.

In a particularly wrenching scene, we see a father separated from his daughter by officers patrolling the void deck of their flat. Digging through some refuse, he unearths a parang, and relives in a rush a moment of remembered glory and emancipation. Before the kampongs of the city closed and our resident population was walled into blocks and districts and regions, he says, we were people of the land. The stage darkens; a single spotlight shines on him. But to the policemen watching, he is only a man holding a sharp, unsheathed knife with his small daughter watching on. The criticism is clear: there is always more to every story, something those who do not care for context will never be able to fully understand.

Moments of empowerment and purpose in the play are bookended by scenes showcasing the systemic shackles that keep poverty and disparity in place. Another striking scene is the more artistic exploration of the double-bind of getting “help” in Singapore. With lighting drenching the stage in National Day-red, a sharply-worded song begins to play as a couple seeks “help” from figures representing a mode or stage of assistance in Singaporean society. Here, the musicality of the production serves to emphasise the rote and routine nature of the process of receiving aid. At each juncture, they are asked to lower expectations, or told to let go of their dreams altogether. Echoing our society’s more recent conversations, the audience is left to consider: what is the price of dignity?

Throbbing beneath the cheer and dazzle of the production is the anger. But it isn’t the anger of resignation or capitulation – it is an anger that pushes, propels, and progresses. And while Block Party is unflinching in its crystallization of its cast’s experiences, it is still a party. The production challenges and celebrates community in a breath, encapsulating well the complex relationship with the reality of Singapore as a place they (and we) call home. What makes a community? What builds a home? It might be something we might have the power to create, block by block.

(Reviewer’s note: I didn’t want to write too much on The Community Theatre’s background in the body of the review itself because I wanted my focus to be on the power of the production’s technicality as separate from its social mission. But it is definitely an amazing project – please do check them out!)

 

“Every Vote Counts Towards A Better Life”

Reviewer: Yong Yoke Kay
Performance: 3 August 2019

Three hundred families with 800 dollars each, 150 minutes, 56 voters, four conditions, one scheme, and one decision to make. 

The Class Room, created by Li Xie, Kok Heng Leun, and Jean Ng, and facilitated by Li and Kok, is a participatory theatre work that brings each audience member through a simulation of a social worker’s experience. The show begins with each audience member putting on a lanyard that transforms them from passive audience to fully engaged social worker. The facilitators then introduce the scenario: “A Better Life” is a new social assistance scheme by the government to help families in need of financial assistance. Each target family unit comprises three main groups – single parents, elderly, and children – whose problems are listed in a case file. However, the scheme’s benefits come with a catch: there are four rules that the family cannot break, or all benefits will be forfeited. 

Us social workers are given the opportunity to outvote one of the rules, but only if there is at least 80 percent concurrence in the room. Every vote carries weight. 

The facilitators begin to instigate division among the crowd. Each person chooses the rule they want out, and soon, different camps of people emerge. Everyone has their own opinion and ideas, so how can 56 strangers-turned-colleagues put aside individual differences to make a collective decision to benefit their clients? 

There is a growing sense of helplessness and entrapment in the room, which one can only imagine is what professional social workers face on a daily basis – massive responsibilities with no easy solution. The facilitators steer the conversation, ensuring that it does not go off tangent. They play a critical role in helping us maintain critical distance and focus, with constant reminders of situational constraints and tradeoffs. They also urge us to put aside personal opinions as our suggestions become increasingly varied. Debate ensues, and time ticks away with no sight of a clear conclusion.

The Class Room successfully creates an intense and pressurising scenario that necessitates collective decision-making, effectively making the audience stand in the shoes of others. In fact, it practically leaves us no choice but to be accountable for our decision. This serves as an important reminder of how difficult and time-consuming it is to implement change during the policy making process.

One big takeaway is that there is no such thing as an “ideal situation”, especially when it comes to community and social problems. There will always be conflicting and competing needs and interests, complicating the decision-making process. We all have opinions, each valid in their own way, and the challenge then, is to learn to find the courage and humility to make and accept imperfect decisions.

“Balancing conversation and showmanship”

Reviewer: Myle Yan Tay
Performance: 21 September 2018

Drama Box and ArtsWok Collaborative are closing their two-year stint in Chong Pang with their last show, Last Dance. The production is part of “Closer”, a series of collaboration between artists and elderly residents under the “Both Sides, Now” initiative; a collaboration which is key to this show’s success.

The production takes place in a basketball court in between HDB void decks, with large circular tables for the audience to sit around. The central premise, which anchors the show, is that the audience is attending a party being thrown by the main character 100 days after his father’s death. Yet, this narrative is only the background used to propel the audience into conversations and exercises, all focusing on the act of dying.

It is not often that we are asked to not only confront death but share our thoughts on it with strangers. As such, the production puts in ample effort to ensure that participation is not left to chance. Facilitators are at each table, creative exercises allow for individual reflection, and Kok Heng Leun, the artistic director of Drama Box, does an incredible job moderating, drawing connections and challenging participants to think deeply about their relationship with death.

But at the very foundation of this show lies a central problem. The vacillation between scripted narrative and organic conversations creates a push and pull on the audience. It is hard to remain invested in the crafted plot after hearing such honest and unfiltered stories from other audience members. These moments are so moving that the scripted narrative – which at times borders on melodramatic – is overshadowed. A plot twist in its final moments feels especially unearned when real people’s stories have already carried such emotional weight. Though this reviewer understands that the script helps people to relate to more diverse experiences, perhaps several simpler narratives would lead to deeper introspection.

Furthermore, the show’s overbearing sound design throws off any sense of immersion and hammers the emotional beats too hard. And though Heng does an excellent job as moderator, his opening speech as the artistic director shatters any illusion of immersion. There is an attempt at integration later, when the protagonist states that he has invited Heng to help moderate conversations at his party. However, it feels like too little too late.

Last Dance is a thought-provoking and evocative work. Audience members get what they give, which may not be the easy evening out an audience may desire. But this is what makes Drama Box and ArtsWork Collaborative’s work all the more important. Through unconventional means, Last Dance challenges us to think deeper not only about ourselves, but about how we communicate with our loved ones, as well as complete strangers. At the end of it all, the companies pull off an impressive feat, one that this reviewer looks forward to seeing more of.

“Triple Bill“

Reviewer: Selina Chong
Performance: 1 August 2017

I love the concept of Peer Pleasure. I first encountered it at the M1 Singapore Fringe Festival in 2014, and am happy it has since developed into a full-fledged festival that provides a platform for school groups to stage productions in collaboration with seasoned theatre practitioners. The theme for the 2017 edition of the festival is “The Other”, and Triple Bill explores the concept of alienation, both as a form imposed on an “other”, and as a state experienced by the self.

The first of the three performances is Nonsense. It is devised and performed by young people with Down syndrome and other intellectual differences, and it is impossible not to be moved by the courage of every single performer onstage and to silently cheer on their efforts. Nonsense is a story of people displaced by war. While the concept is pressingly topical, especially in light of increasing anti-immigration sentiments in the US and Europe, I couldn’t help feeling uncomfortable throughout the performance. There is little clarity and coherence to the show, and I found myself asking what the audience is supposed to get out of the experience.

The next two performances – The Box by St Anthony’s Canossian Secondary School and How Did I Mess Up This Bad: An Analysis by Unsaid – are punchy. Each expresses a clear message: the former urges us to consider how young people struggle with issues of physical imperfection when they are inundated with images that are unrealistic, while the latter crowd-sourced stories and shows us snapshots of what it means to live with depression. Both performances deliver their respective messages indubitably. Each performance represents, for me, the power of the stage in helping audiences empathise and learn when the production is uncluttered and the message is straightforward.

As an educator, I see young people negotiating their place in the world and figuring out what they stand for on a daily basis. As an audience member, I am very heartened to see so many groups of young people care enough to come together and speak out, to leverage the spotlight and force viewers to think and wonder. To the performers in Triple Bill, thank you for reminding me that it is never foolish to hope.

“Increasingly Pleasurable”

Reviewer: Lee Min Jie
Performance: 30 July 2016

Upon entering Esplanade Recital Studio for M1 Peer Pleasure Youth Theatre Festival 2016’s Programme B, I realise that a space filled with youths is always exuberant and energetic. Chatter and laughter bounce off the walls and there is never a quiet moment right up till the lights dim for the first performance.

This theatre festival is a necessary platform to harness all this energy.  It is here that youths can channel their energies and creativity into collaborating and cooperating, not only with their peers, but also with mentors, who have been in the industry for a long time.

Programme B opens with In The Cracks We Find. Performed by Raffles Girls’ School (Secondary), it begins by quoting the definition of “family” from the dictionary and Wikipedia. As the play progresses, we realise how wrong, or incomprehensive, these definitions are. Families in the modern society face unique challenges and no longer come in the prescribed forms. This gang of girls are a force to reckon with. They challenge definitions, offer their own and build human pyramids when you least expect it. Perhaps in the future they could consider a more stable and safer platform (not jagged blocks) to stand on when making their statement.

My personal favourite (from Programme A and B) is Pull Up by Clementi Town Secondary School. A play where life takes three fighter pilots in different directions after a freak accident. This is a well-conceived dramatic story that elucidates the theme of friendship and forgiveness. Lightbulbs on airplane models cleverly mimic their flight at night. Synchonised movements by the ensemble replicate the turbulence felt in a plane realistically. The emotional rollercoaster ride is made all the more memorable by the cast’s striking facial expressions. This thoughtful and theatrical presentation makes me overlook the illogical revival of one of the characters.

Dancing In The Dark by Buds Theatre concludes the evening. A girl’s fear of leaving the house and interacting with other people is so strong that it is paralysing. She stays at home, lives vicariously through movies and survives on delivery.

Everything is beautifully romanticised in this play and appropriately so I feel. For a girl who battles opening the front door, walking along the cobbled streets with a snack in hand is a dream. However, she doesn’t realise that her own existence is romanticised too. Using a typewriter and dancing like no one’s watching is a luxury one can rarely afford in a fast paced modern society like Singapore. What are the chances of a pet cat taking refuge in your own home and befriending the delivery man? The set, sound, and lighting design lends another dimension to the whole atmosphere too.

A home that provides a comfortable escape is something that all of us should be able to own.

“Simple Pleasures”

Reviewer: Lee Min Jie
Performance: 26 July 2016

Peer Pleasure initially started out as part of the M1 Singapore Fringe Festival in 2014. Response to the programme has been so overwhelming that in 2015, it became a stand-alone festival on its own. With M1 as its title sponsor in 2016; M1 Peer Pleasure Youth Theatre Festival, this youth festival is probably here to stay.

Organised by ArtsWok Collaborative, this platform allows youths to showcase their works to the public. This year six original works, largely devised and performed by the youths themselves, will explore the theme of “Home”.

Programme A opens with Housing Games. Performed by CHIJ Katong Convent Secondary School, it resembles The Hunger Games novel and movie series. Set in SG100, students from the Dramatic Arts Society put up a reality game show where audiences double as television viewers. Three families are plucked from HDBs and battle it out on “Do You Belong?”, for the opportunity to continue living in Singapore.

The cast is dedicated and each contestant’s backstory and characteristics are nicely fleshed out. The flashy hosts have good camaraderie and are on point with their comic timing. Transitions come as a pleasant and refreshing surprise, when backstage crew reveal themselves and shout cues on stage instead of shifting props in the shadows.

The second item by Singapore Polytechnic is put up by students from Diploma in Applied Drama and Psychology. This performance follows the friendship of two young girls, the struggles of their respective families are thrust under the spotlight. An absent father’s presence is sorely felt and it seems the challenges of a single parent family are insurmountable. Parents who fail to achieve work life balance also fail to realise that nothing, not even money, can buy them time spent with their children during their growing up years.

Unnecessarily exacting movements and prop shifts during transitions are painful to watch. However, one can forgive the technical glitches when faced with a scene where both girls reveal how little they need to be happy.

Body of Land by School of The Arts concludes the evening. Students present excerpts from a series of signature Singaporean works by Haresh Sharma, Jean Tay, Kuo Pao Kun, Natalie Hennedige, Ovidia Yu, and Zizi Azah. The excerpts chosen are interesting and the students bravely put their own spin on the subject matter. The ensemble is bold and gives their all in performing. Insects are affectionately personified, even unscrupulous aunties are comically portrayed. Expect onesies, singing and dancing, and animal head gears.

“Democratising Theatre for Youth”

Reviewer: Muhammed Faizad Bin Salim
Performance: 28 July 2015

ArtsWok Collaborative and the Esplanade have come together to plug what appears to be a gap in the Singaporean theatre scene: the lack of an avenue / platform for youth to showcase their works to the public. And if the maiden run of the festival is anything to go by, future iterations are looking promising … but not before ironing out some kinks first.

The 5 festival plays were conveniently chosen from the 2014 Singapore Youth Festival Arts Presentation for Drama (English) for Junior Colleges and Centralised Institutes. They share a commonality in that they all are loosely based on the festival theme of Causality. In addition, according to the festival’s Artistic Director Alvin Tan, the 5 plays features strong ensemble pieces and they provide an antidote to an otherwise individualistic and competitive world. What he fails to point out however, is how most of the works being presented are not actually written by the youth themselves and the direction is also usually provided by an adult – a teacher in charge of the school drama club or an arts practitioner, roped in to help mentor and train the students for the competition.

The standout pieces were Hwa Chong Institution’s The Female of the Species and Raffles Institution’s 10,000 Cigarettes. The former showcases the casts’ acting chops really well by getting them to play stereotypical female personas ranging from the gossip schoolgirl to the wife dealing with the partner’s infidelity at the cusp of ending the relationship. Alex Broun’s darkly humorous play 10,000 Cigarettes on the other hand is given a whimsical treatment by RI with lots of physical theatre thrown in to complement the brilliant banter. Catholic Junior College’s Poop handles Chong Tze Chien’s writing with great sensitivity and care. This showcase features committed performances by the three female leads playing the roles of Emily, Mother and Grandmother. The use of white masks for the cast, whilst simple, conveys the theme of hallucinations, spirits and the afterlife across clearly.

What ultimately soured the experience though, was ironically the very people this festival was supposed to cater to and celebrate. Admittedly, some of the issues presented on stage are not your everyday, run-of-the-mill topics the average school-going Singaporean student would identify with but neither are they so highfalutin that it would be beyond their grasp. It is irksome then, to have them react (oohs, ahhs and ooh la las) rather loudly and inappropriately to the littlest of things. One of the male actors from CJC gave the whole experience a rather positive spin during the Question and Answer segment by stating that the experience taught him that as an actor his job was not just to deliver the lines but to also react to the audience and pace the performance accordingly. For me (and the rest of the ticket-paying adult audience) though, part of a youth theatre festival must at the very least in its outreach efforts, be concerned with cultivating a sense of decorum that is unfortunately sorely lacking in young theatre audiences.

The short interval where the Q&A is conducted for the group that came before is neither purposeful nor insightful as the questions are over-determined and banal, and they do not mask the fact they are time-fillers while the next group is prepping to perform. Regardless of the audience demographic, the facilitator need not have dumbed down the questions.

Peer Pleasure certainly holds a lot of promise but for it to be a successful youth theatre festival, it must aspire to be a theatre of the youth, by the youth and for the youth.