“A knotty experiment with undetermined results”

Reviewer: Isaac Lim
Performance: 18 September 2015

I am at The Substation getting ready to watch an installation-performance by Luke George from Australia, and Daniel Kok (a.k.a. Diskodanny) from Singapore. I know it involves ropes. I know it will get naughty, as the description says it is an attempt at ‘queering’ rope play.

What I hadn’t known is that before the performance, I’d be ushered into a room to sign an indemnity form, and pledge myself to any audience participation. Now this is quite an experiment, with a buzz building outside the theatre door.

“Bunny” is a nickname given to the person being tied in rope bondage, and this show poses the question: What if everyone in the theatre is a Bunny?

Thought-provoking indeed.

The 90-minutes long performance attempts to weave various rope tying techniques with the physical interaction between the performers and the audience members. But more than half the time, nothing is quite happening.

The audience enters the space, and sees George tied up on the floor with little mobility, while Kok is suspended a meter off the ground. For fifteen minutes or so, at random intervals, George will request for an audience member to help spin Kok around. Thereafter, much time is spent, with the help of a crew, to untie Kok.

The entire show, save for a five minutes segment that had the two gyrating to club music, generally involves tying and untying audience members with a variety of neon-colored ropes. This includes tying a man facing down on a table, and than attaching to him a knotted-up vacuum machine and a Hello Kitty soft toy, before placing a CD-player on his back (which by the way, is all there is on stage, apart from a pail filled with ropes).

In the final segment of the performance, as George is busy tying up a female audience in Japanese bondage style, Kok busies himself with connecting audience members with the collection of ropes available, tying some ends to legs, wrists and even legs of chairs. When some sort of a web forms after four ropes are put to use, the performance comes to an end, leaving me with question marks in my head. Then everything is slowly loosened and untied.

The programme stated that the pair of artists have studied the various knot-tying techniques and crafts, such as macramé, Chinese knots and Japanese bondage. However, the entire performance-installation is dry and flat, even the homo-erotic, as hinted by the topless duo in skin-tight bottoms, was a non-starter. There is nary a connection between the performers and audience members.

The theme and devices of this performance have so much potential to challenge mindsets and sexual politics, among many other issues. In the end, it seems to have taken a safe route, and settles for being a bold experiment without any clear results.

“We’ll all need another spin.”

Reviewer: Casidhe Ng
Performance: 18 September 2015

First showcased to the public earlier this year, Bunny is the product of a 2-week collaborative process involving Daniel Kok and Luke George, arranged by the Campbelltown Arts Centre. By exploring the dynamics between the ‘rigger’, the person tying, and the ‘bunny’, the person being tied, the piece aims to involve the audience in the complex power play of bondage — an aspect they manage with relative success. Yet, the concept of involving the audience firsthand in the rope-tying experience inevitably brings up several issues: the tolerance of the audience member, the time taken to tie the ropes, and by extension, how far they can go with their exploration.

For the most part, two of the three issues are dealt with well. Kok and George constantly ensure that the audience members involved do not experience any discomfort, and they gauge their exploration with similar sensitivity. Unfortunately, it is the time taken to tie those ropes that lets the piece down. Whilst it’s intriguing to see an audience member being tied up, the novelty quickly wears off. Themes of sexual politics and power are similarly lacking as emphasis is placed on the striking stage pictures instead. The ropes and objects appear to be used for their aesthetic value as opposed to embodying the aforementioned ideas. The piece is thus besieged with patches of emptiness, and the payoff doesn’t quite offset the wait.

The set and prop designs are stunning, with everyday objects (a kettle, a vacuum cleaner) being tied entirely with colored rope, providing a surreal touch to the shared space between the spectators and performers. At one point, as George is tying up another audience member, Kok begins a sequence of movements on his own, shifting and contorting as he travels the space in an unrestrained fashion. These fleeting moments of beauty, amid the loud music and neon rope, paired with the chemistry shared by Kok and George are easily the best parts of Bunny.

All that said, Bunny remains a daring, unusual and uninhibited piece of work, if occasionally confounding. Whilst I had hoped for a more meaningful use of the objects involved, I commend Kok and George’s courage to take such a huge step into audience interaction. Performances that use the audience as the focal point —the medium that embodies its concept as opposed to just a secondary element — should deserve more promotion and praise.

“Hearing Things: The Ghosts of The Substation”

Reviewer: Jemima Yong
Performance: 9 September 2015, 7pm

I sign an indemnity form – I understand they are not responsible if I lose something, I understand they are not responsible if I slip and hurt myself, I understand they are not responsible if I am frightened by paranormal activity and the baby in my womb decides to make a premature exit. Three company members lead me to my starting position, by the side of an alley: the entrance to the basement. “Here is a torch… I suggest not having it on all the time or it could ruin the atmosphere. You ready? Mind your head and remember to shut the doors behind you,” Soon enough, I am in darkness and it hits me – it is Hungry Ghost month and maybe I should have come with someone else.

Hearing Things is an experience that takes the form of a pre-recorded audio track designed to guide you on a journey through the Substation. Voices perform a weaving of stories, a cauldron of fact and fiction illuminating the warehouse converted theatre space through reported hauntings of its ghosts. Tania De Rozario, Terence Lau and Kamini Ramachandran have created an intricately crafted, gentle and effective stimuli for the imagination.

Attempted is a balance between the eerie portrayals of the spiritual world’s mystery with the harmlessness of the Substation’s resident ghosts. The visceral experience sharpens my awareness; there is a strong presence in negative space, be it paranormal or living. This tension in the atmosphere frightens and incites. As I proceed, I can feel a distinct drop in temperature as I walk from the basement into the backstage area, the tautness of yellow gaffa tape ascending the stairs reeks of human manipulation, I look at the creases on the sofa and I choose not to sit. There are little installations framing spaces, simple dressing, and isolated lights just out of sight. This is the beauty of site-specific work.

The audio track is composed with precision, it gives me space and time to look closer, it allows me the agency to move and focus my attention on what I choose. I oscillate between craving to see something I can’t explain to not wanting to witness anything at all. More than once I think about retracing my steps – not because I am afraid of what I can’t see, but because I am scared that there might be a human round the next corner. Isn’t it curious that at this point I am more afraid of other people than the eerie absence? The final act is gentle and we rest on a “silent thank you” to the space and its inhabitants.

A day on, I find myself watching the family dog bark at mid air, perhaps acknowledging the presence of my late granddad. Hearing Things has provided me the comfort I need to know that I am not alone.

“Part Mystery, Part History, Fully Disclosed.“

Reviewer: Gabriel Lim
Performance: 6 September 2015, 3pm

Be warned, this review is filled with necessary spoilers.

Imagine being alone, a headphone over your head with the narrator’s voice, a faulty torch light in one hand that activates your paranoia. The twisting of the door knob with the other hand opens to a lesser-known tunnel-like storage space in the basement of The Substation.

Do not hesitate, just venture into the unknown. No cheap sudden screams, I promise.

Hearing Things: The Ghosts of The Substation is part of Septfest, The Substation’s annual anniversary celebration. As they turn 25 this year, this production investigates the past through its iconic building.

A spectre haunts. A little girl. This figure is mentioned umpteen times. She may leave traces of a tiny pair of slippers; she may be running on the catwalk platform above the blackbox; or luring the technician in the middle of the night by activating the burglar alarm. And all this while, it is as though she is waiting for the right person.

This place has so many traces of the past: one sealed door is said to be a tunnel leading to Fort Canning. In another instance, a director tells an actor to conduct a cleansing ritual by carrying a fruit basket around the theatre. Never have I been on a tour so trippy and surreal. You will definitely not regret going on this trip to explore the space. My only gripe is that this tour is a little tedious: the audience/participants must pay close attention to the speaker and the deliberate footstep sounds to judge when to move. Often, I find myself chasing after the narrative, ignoring the space and the atmosphere as a result.

Nevertheless, the next time you visit The Substation, suspend your disbelief. You may just come across something that makes you eerily aware of your presence and the presences of the unseen past.