“I am LGB”

Reviewer: Dawn Teo
Performance: 20 August 2016

Commissioned by the Singapore International Festival of Arts, I Am LGB is a collaboration between Loo Zihan and Ray Langenbach.  Addressing social constructs, self-identity and propaganda, this is a social experiment of questioning ourselves and our environment.

In the vein of participatory performance art pieces, I Am LGB demands direct engagement from the audience, as the audience become the very subjects that perform tests and produces outcomes.

The experiment starts immediately upon stepping through the entrance of 72-13.

Personal belongings are removed and in their place a textbook and a pencil. The audience are asked to put on a lab coat with an index number that will be their marker for the night. A mug shot is taken and the audience walks into the chamber – a sterile white room with chairs, tables, facilitators and a huge podium that requires you to look so far up that aches your stiff neck.

Everything is very surreal, in the sense that you will be listening to lectures and taking tests with your peers in this confined space. To leave the chamber is to be liberated and to never step back into this space again. Oddly enough, it is rare for anyone to voluntarily ask to be liberated. After all, that will mean missing out on what is to come and the thrill of the unknown.  The audience members will slowly be liberated throughout the four hours of the performance, with only one left and named LGB for that one night.

Despite its strangeness and claustrophobic nature, the performance turns out to be a microcosm of society today and that makes it eerily pertinent. Facilitators will constantly watch over you, liberate you for reasons that you are unaware of and you repeat the cycle all over again with different activities.

This piece of work set me thinking about what it really means to be liberated. It sets me thinking about my place in this complicated web of politics, social networks and home. It is a journey of self-discovery  and a  realisation of how art truly imitates, or is, life.

“Everything By My Side”

Reviewer: Dawn Teo
Performance: 12 August 2016

When one thinks of a theatre performance, you see a stage. Actors performing under stage lights while audience members sit in the dark and be silent observers most of the time.

But for Everything By My Side, this production brings theatre into a much more intimate setting – the bed.

Directed and helmed by Argentine artist Fernando Rubio, this miniature play of 15-minutes is a brief encounter between one of actor ten and an individual audience member. Lying side by side on a bed draped in white within the National Gallery of Singapore, the actor proceed to share a story. With both actor and audience placed in the middle of the museum and equally exposed, it is an intimate experience of giving and listening.

As I climb into bed and tuck myself within the sheets, all my senses are aroused. The rhythm of both our breathing and the movement of bed sheets become the main melody underpinning the story. I catch sight of every movement – the actor’ slow blinking, staring into space, every pore and every curve of her hands move. It is fascinating to notice all the little details we miss in everyday life.

The most beautiful moment is when eye contact is made, and both of us smile at the same time. The actor gauges how comfortable and receptive the audience member is before initiating physical contact. For me, the touch is a powerful connection because it seals the little moment in time both individuals shared together.

Everything By My Side is a performance that is personal because every audience member enters it from their own points of view. It is intensely unique and this is this performance’s beauty.

“My Mother Buys Condoms”

Reviewer: Dawn Teo
Performance: 23 July 2016

My Mother Buys Condoms is written by Helmi Yusof, an arts correspondent for The Business Times. Humorous and entertaining, the audience is invited to take a glimpse into the lives of an average Singapore family. All hell breaks loose when Maggie rediscovers love and sex at the age of 63, and she discovers this with air-conditioner repairman Raju. “It is disgusting,” Nora, Maggie’s best friend exclaims. As for her adult children, will they accept her, and each other?

The 90-minute long play unfolds in Maggie’s home – a HDB apartment. Audience members are greeted by cramped up book shelves, a sofa set, a dining table and a small fully-kitted kitchen. The set is constructed to mimic a lived-in HDB apartment and it provides the  audience members the perfect illusion that we are peering into the characters’ lives. The set firmly anchors the characters’ realities and their social environments and habits.

This piece of theatre does not shy away from controversy – sex, ageing and it questions what constitutes a “normal” family in a country such as Singapore. Instead of being overbearing or preaching, the text  presents multiple perspectives on the issues. Whether one aligns to LGBT rights or is against them, acceptance or prejudice towards aging , all sides are given an airing in the play. Personally, I really enjoy the debate dramatized on stage because while it kick-starts the conversation, it does allows us to form our own opinions.

It is a pity that the play seems a little short and it ends abruptly. The performance will have benefited from more time and further character development  before the climax is reached at the end.

The cast has good chemistry on stage. Lok Meng Chue as Maggie and Remesh Panicker as Raju is a beautiful pair. Both of them share many heartfelt moments on stage. Seong Hui Xuan as Maggie’s daughter Gwen provides a lovely presence on stage. Despite having few lines, her character conveys her emotions through her body and that is fascinating to watch.

“Hotel”

Reviewer: Dawn Teo
Performance: 14 & 15 July 2016

First staged in 2015, Hotel is a five-hour long epic that still manages to touch the audiences. Having caught the show last year and now at Lasalle’s SIA Theatre, I find myself going home with new perspectives of my identity and homeland.

Hotel captures the various narratives from Singapore as a colony till today, and even into the possible future. As chambermaids clear the room for the next guest to enter, a new story unfolds. The multiple stories reveal the perspectives of different individuals as we follow the journey of the room, nation and its people through time and history

With all the action centering on the same hotel room, the set is the constant – two walls and two doors to resemble an entrance, washroom exit as well as the layout of the room. The walls have multimedia projections to illustrate the movement of time periods – from patterned wallpaper to iconic events displayed through video.  It is simple and functional.  The scene changes are done quickly because of how well-practiced the chambermaids are. It is quite a delight to witness the room morphing in front of our eyes

But the stars of the show are the actors. An ensemble of 14 actors play characters of multiple ethnicities in different scenes of the play and at other times working the transitions. I enjoyed the use of different languages, accents that add to the authentic portrayal of these characters. Humour is used to underpin issues we as a nation wallpaper over. Propositions are declared but I am allowed to make up my own mind.

Hotel is one play that traverses time and space and is a piece of brilliant story-telling about ourselves and our home. Perhaps it challenges the common perception that we are too young a nation to have memories and histories to call our own.

“Double-Bill: Riders Know When It’s Gonna Rain & Hawa”

Reviewer: Dawn Teo
Performance: 30 June 2016

Riders Know When It’s Gonna Rain is a glimpse into the mat moto subculture, complete with lingo of the Singapore motorbiking community and youths going with the fast ride. Audience members follow the journey of four friends from the day of receiving their 2B licenses to the unexpected detour of their friendships.

The play is presented mostly in Malay as it captures the essence of its characters as well as the culture itself. Having surtitles help non-Malay speakers to understand the conversations, but even through the acting, I am able to figure out what is going on at any given point in time.

Straightforward, clear and heartfelt, I find myself empathising with all the characters throughout the play. Nessa Anwar captures their growth and personalities in her writing simply, and the actors have tremendous chemistry in breathing life into the characters.

Some scene changes felt clumsy and excessive but each setting is used to great effect and adding layers of meaning to the text.

Through the building up and the slow burn of events, the ending for Riders Know When It’s Gonna Rain really hit it home for me. I enjoy how the fragments hinted through the play came together in the end without the over-explanation and fuss.

Hawa delves deep into the topic of religion, sexuality and love. This text-heavy piece is mainly presented in English, which provides a good guide to the audience on certain Islam-specific terms. Dialogue is the key to this play. Many back-and-forth banter question each character’s beliefs and intentions, while giving audience members the space to be part of that conversation.

The gem in Hawa is really watching the whole process of cleaning a body – how to cover it and clothe it with white pieces of cloth. Being able to witness something so intimate and important proves to be meditative, and somehow, very emotional.

Catching both plays in a single night is quite an experience since I got to see multiple aspects of the Malay culture and Islam side-by-side. Considering that I am not part of these groups, it is a true privilege to be able to experience these events in the form of theatre and educate myself further.

“Drumming in the future”

Reviewer: Dawn Teo
Performance: 14 May 2016

Drums is a performance that showcases the traditional and the contemporary interacting to bring about new perspectives. It challenges the audience to keep an open mind while engaging their imagination.

Performed as part of the Super Japan Japanese Festival of Arts, it is held at the Esplanade Recital Studio. The two-hour performance is essentially a double-bill – two directors, Chong Tze Chien and Shigeki Nakano, each work on the same modern noh classic, The Damask Drum by Yukio Mishima.

Chong’s interpretation eases the audience into the dark atmosphere with its straightforwardness. Though abstract in presentation, Chong chooses to stick closer to the storyline and that allows the audience to follow the story. In doing so, Chong takes liberties in other theatricalities, such as the stylised physicality of the actors. He successfully unsettles the minds and hearts of audience members while merging the old with the new.

Nakano’s piece is satirical in treatment and form: he plays more on humour and sarcasm. Together with the use of props and two languages, he creates multiple layers of meaning. I am unfamiliar with the Japanese language and culture and so I feel like I am missing out on some aspects of this approach (e.g. the mannerisms and choices of reference in text). However, I am able to grasp the sentiment and message of his work.

Even though both works are presented in very different ways, I enjoy how both directors worked in the small pool of water that sits in the middle of the stage. It is significant as the stage is left bare most times, besides a wooden panel that works as a backstage area for the actors.

Drums provides a glimpse into two sides of the same coin, and leaves plenty for the audience to ponder over. It is an interesting and beautiful way of exploring perspectives and the various crossings between two worlds.

“The Cave”

Reviewer: Dawn Teo
Performance: 10 June 2016

Written by Annabel Tan and directed by Benjamin Chow, The Cave is a monologue written to explore the female body.  The space is simple yet intriguing. A single character, Eve (played by Selma Alkaff), dressed in whites, is walking around in a dream state blowing bubbles. All this while, audience members would enter, settle down and observe her go about this ritual until the show starts.

It is a clever way to immerse the audience into the experience and let the atmosphere sink in. Besides that, the set is aesthetic and functional at the same time. With the use of the imagination and the entire alphabetical jigsaw play mat, Selma transforms the set into usable props such as a baby, a desk and even the mouth of a cave.

Despite the space constrains and the set, I feel that more stillness can be used to hold her presence apart from the constant movement. Though some gestural illustrations are vivid and enhance the story-telling, it is too overwhelming at some points and some directional variations are unnecessary.

With that, some portions of the text are lost and cannot be heard clearly. Together with the use of sound, the voice gets drowned out. That is quite a pity since the text itself has plenty of emotional shifts, juxtapositions and changes in thought processes. The performance may be improved if the text is  given more time to breathe and settle with the audience, before shuffling from one story to another. Regardless of weaknesses in text, direction and delivery, Selma remains a charismatic performer and she embodies the beauty of transformation in her body – illustrating the changes in atmosphere, time and thoughts with clarity.

“National Memory Project”

Reviewer: Dawn Teo
Performance: 10 June 2016

Every citizen has to contribute a memory to the memory corps to facilitate organisation, research, discovery and eventually, archive. When a convicted murderer on death row is forced to share a memory, a confrontation ensues with the officer tasked with this job. In the hopes of moving towards the future, they are both forced to retrace their paths made in the past.

Written by Johnny Jon Jon and co-directed with Nadia Cheriyan, the focus of this 50-minute play is on the text as well as the individual characters.

There are more questions unearthed than answered. The result is bittersweet for me. The issues tackled reflect a part of Singapore that is seldom questioned today – the need for constant construction and upgrading, turning a blind eye to what we sacrifice in the process and leaving certain people behind.

Presented in Malay, English as well as certain Chinese dialects, National Memory Project captures the individual stories of each character and offers them to the audience to ponder. The use of surtitles ensures inclusiveness.

To exemplify inclusiveness, the team has a cue for all Muslim members of the audience to break  their fast during the show. The cue is cleverly included into the play as a sip of water made by one of their actors. The gesture is very heartwarming, especially in a multiracial country such as ours.

The team chooses to use multimedia as a clever tool to transcend space and time. Beyond the usual showings of videos and photographs to keep the story moving along, there are also portions of the play where persons appear in video-form to converse with a live actor. Using these videos as a manifestation of memory, the audience witnesses the absences and presences of memory in play. It is a slight pity that sometimes, the audio recording together with the videos are not as clear and some words are lost.

Besides two screens to present the videos and surtitles, a simple table, bench and chair is all that make up the set. The simplicity is functional and helps with directing the audiences’ focus onto the two actors on stage.

As part of The Twenty-Something Festival, National Memory Project is a play that speaks about current affairs and is unafraid to question our current societal structure. A simple yet strong work, it brings story-telling to its basic form and appeals to us in its sincerity and relevance.

“Lord of the Flies”

Reviewer: Dawn Teo
Performance: 2 April 2016

Even though many would argue that elaborate sets do not always make good theatre, I must say that the set done by Wong Chee Wai for this adaptation of Lord of The Flies played a big role.

Upon entering the SOTA Studio Theatre, I am surrounded by plants and green creepers. The greenery overwhelms and greets audience members at every turn – even the ceiling and the sitting area are not spared. It is as though I have walked into a forest and am watching the play’s events unfold right before my eyes in real time.

With such an immersive set that extends itself beyond stage limits, I am glad that the production chooses to omit the house announcements and flow right into the performance: complete with sounds of the airplane crash, strobe lights as well as smoke. These portentous signals are only marred by random mobile phones ringing while the performance ensues.

Directed by Samantha Scott-Blackhall, Lord of The Flies is about a group of school boys being the only survivors of a plane crash. Stranded on a deserted island, they are left to organize themselves, hunt for food, make shelters and start fire signals. Things slowly make a turn for the worse, and it soon becomes a fight for life and death.

Despite the heavy themes, the play remains mostly aesthetically pleasing. The actors are strong: ranging from veteran actor Lim Kay Siu to the return of Mark Richmond. But I must say that it is quite an interesting experience to witness grown men physicalise and behave as young teenage boys.

A special mention goes to Erwin Shah Ismail playing the role of Simon. During his short monologue, he manages to capture the subtleties of his character without making it caricature. The honesty and genuine nature of Simon is portrayed with a sense of truth, and that made the short scene very relatable.

The passage of time was beautifully illustrated with the use of lights. Lighting Designer James Tan manages to enhance the storytelling with just a change in light colour or type of lighting used.

Being a complex story to share and to bring to life on stage, I applaud the team for their ambitious effort and artistic direction that Is evident in every aspect of the design and acting.

“Finding Spaces Between Memories”

Reviewer: Dawn Teo
Performance: 27 March 2016

The performance is housed in a simple set of trapezium wooden frames that grow in width to invite the audiences’ seating area within its staged compounds. It embraces the audience as it implicates him/her. I feel like I am part and parcel of the creation of this work just by being present, and that is a lovely feeling to have before as well as after the performance.

The two actors acknowledge the audience and speak directly to them – complete with conversational gestures and eye contact. After initial awkwardness in both presentation and reception, everyone eases into the casual atmosphere eventually. The bond created through set and actors endures and endears throughout the performance.

Recalling Mother is a new iteration of a work-in-progress for theatre makers Claire Wong and Noorlinah Mohamed.  This 2016 version is its fourth staging. Discovering and rediscovering memories, the duo explore their ever-evolving relationships with their own mothers.

Wong and Mohamed transform themselves as fluidly as memories do. One moment they are their present selves chatting with each other, in the next, they are children watching their mothers cook once more. However, the seamless transitions are most magical when both women alter their physical shape one limb at a time to assume their mothers’ appearance. Watching the detailed transformations right in front of my eyes is a beautiful sight and brings the performance home to me, literally

Recalling Mother is genuine and poignant story-telling. Despite the use of Cantonese and Malay without subtitles, the tone of voice and context given in minimal English at each time are enough to paint the complete picture for the audience.

I left the theatre studio deep in thought while being overwhelmed with emotions. I reflect on my own relationship with my own mother: pondering on what this performance has brought and will bring to our relationship.