tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4790752188878083162024-03-13T09:32:04.075+08:00Bootleg LightbulbsProse, poetry and prattle: some published, and some ... well, not yet.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger28125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-479075218887808316.post-37370432654993873702022-12-24T17:38:00.006+08:002022-12-25T04:56:01.031+08:00How The Web Was Wrong<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/bvenable1/posts/pfbid02kHbLDw9RJZuLLGS4T28Uyu9rjJamrhA4fNVsLBFiL38PBEgZjc3iAh2ci9g9VbCNl" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img alt="" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="345" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgevbBd2IshF2qJ4Hki5jujJUayv7S78zYc9iRoQOHC0UjMkucQ7ZLmxPAPW0JM38v0-JWSO9vMsDbzvfp1wk2endY7R2R1S-TC-VNCKFTirnmVk-rR811fXB-e4AlcPIaD_BnpCPQ2ZQBMfyAD_A3JYWqZ-dAdf0cEt6CgqhN5OnMIYtdL14V8Bxj05g=w259-h345" width="259" /></a></div><br />Click the image to read the heart-moving post about a <a href="https://www.facebook.com/photo?fbid=10100645887099835&set=a.575622771155" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">frazzled young mother</a> struggling with two toddlers while flying interstate and how women around her stepped up to help her through flight check-in, until baggage claim at her destination. The post was made on 8 December 2018.<div><br /></div><div>My interest pertains to the narrative's movement and transition through social media. As a feel good story it deservingly gains traction much to the surprise of the OP (original poster).<p>Web-media picks it up and makes it part of their editorials, which in turn gets viralised. In most cases, links to the OP are <a href="https://bit.ly/beccauncredited" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">not made</a>. Maybe a <a href="https://bit.ly/beccaunlinked" target="_blank">mention</a> of her name. Other soc-med news vultures do the same on their own private accounts. Wondering if there's a term for such a phenomenon.</p><p>Two days later the smart OP appends a charity drive to her original story to take advantage of its popularity. A sharp and compassionate move on her part. One webzine runs the story, fails to credit her original post but <a href="https://bit.ly/nobeccalinkbutdonate" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">DOES link to the charity</a>. Good enough? Hmmm... <br /><br />Four years later, the narrative surfaces again, and it must be because of the "MEMORIES" function of Facebook, especially since it incorporates a timely Christmas message people feel they must share it.</p><p>According to Becca in 2020, <a href="https://bit.ly/becca2yearson" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">people were STILL donating</a>. If they chance upon the OP on Facebook.<br /></p><p>And now imagine the missed opportunities for charity by others who read the story from hijacked postings (that's my term for now for this despicable deed) that do NOT attribute or credit fairly.</p><p>If you found this article interesting, do leave a comment, and DO donate to the charity that Becca Kinsey felt could benefit from the viralizing of her beautiful and inspiring story.<br /><br />Merry Christmas!<br /><br /></p><p><br /></p></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-479075218887808316.post-3249245048703017022013-10-03T11:41:00.001+08:002013-10-03T11:42:48.134+08:00I Fly To TheeThank you for dropping in.<br />
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I was asked to write a short blurb of 100-words maximum so that audiences at Five Arts Centre's 2-Minute Solos might better appreciate my performance.<br />
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I did not think 100 words would be enough to explain the references in my piece.<br />
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I also feel that audience coming in cold would be a much better thing for the piece. I want them to feel an almost similiar bewilderment that I have felt when I faced the issues that resulted in this piece. <br />
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I am prepared to admit that many references in my piece would not be recognised immediately or even at all. That some insights need a little more help. Such is the practice of piety and often politics.<br />
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The Memorare is a passionate Catholic prayer pleading for the intercession of The Blessed Virgin Mary, the revered mother of Jesus Christ.<br />
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The Blessed Virgin Mary is also revered in The Holy Quran, and whose Virgin Birth to Christ is also part of Islamic belief. According to Wikipedia, "She is mentioned more in the Quran than in the entire New Testament and is also the only woman mentioned by name in the Quran".<br />
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My paternal grandmother, Dolores Chin, a Penang-born Peranakan-Serani only spoke Malay to her children. Both my grandmothers were devout Catholics.<br />
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The <i>batu tumbok</i> (pestle and mortar) found in nearly every Malaysian home is often used to make <i>sambal belachan </i>by pounding chillies and <i>belacan </i>together.<br />
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<i>Belacan </i>has been produced by the fishermen of the Portuguese Settlement in Melaka for many generations. I have ancestral stock from this community.<br />
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The pounding gesture of twelve times echoes the European theatre tradition of 12 knocks heard before a stage play begins. You can still hear this ritual practised in some theatres in Paris.<br />
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The <i>knocking before the curtain rises</i> tradition references a historical beginning to when re-enactments of religious stories developed into theatrical performances and the knocking was an homage to the 12 apostles of Christ. Some theatres have reduced it to three knocks in reference to The Trinity of Christian belief.<br />
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When I was growing up, <i>rub chilly in your mouth</i> was a threatened punishment to children for saying rude things.<br />
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The <i>punishment </i>transforms into <i>a holy anointment</i> (like Hindu holy ash) at an agonising turning point of revelation, courage and faith following a passionate prayer for understanding. <br />
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My 2-Minute Solo ponders the question: "When does expression of faith become propagation of faith?"<br />
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It is my heartfelt and impassioned artistic response to "The Allah Controversy".<br />
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I would be very happy to hear any comments or feedback you may have about my 2-Minute Solo, especially the feelings and issues that have been aroused in you, before and after having read this.<br />
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Terima kasih.<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-479075218887808316.post-31255204051140529162013-03-10T21:59:00.003+08:002013-03-10T21:59:53.963+08:00The Best 6 Pack Exercise at Home!<iframe src="https://www.facebook.com/video/embed?video_id=10200336076347009" width="640" height="360" frameborder="0"></iframe>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-479075218887808316.post-7645316664680090422012-12-02T23:24:00.001+08:002012-12-02T23:35:41.726+08:00Stephen Krashen on Language Acquisition<br />
“Acquisition requires meaningful interaction in the target language – natural communication – in which speakers are concerned not with the form of their utterances but with the messages they are conveying and understanding.” Stephen Krashen<br />
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“The best methods are therefore those that supply ‘comprehensible input’ in low anxiety situations, containing messages that students really want to hear. These methods do not force early production in the second language, but allow students to produce when they are ‘ready’, recognizing that improvement comes from supplying communicative and comprehensible input, and not from forcing and correcting production.” Stephen Krashen<br />
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“In the real world, conversations with sympathetic native speakers who are willing to help the acquirer understand are very helpful.” Stephen Krashen<br />
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From: <a href="http://languagesupportuk.wordpress.com/2012/11/29/language-acquisition-does-not-require-extensive-use-of-conscious-grammatical-rules-and-does-not-require-tedious-drill-stephen-krashen/" target="_blank">The LanguageSupportUK Blog</a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-479075218887808316.post-84362753717752928332011-06-03T17:59:00.002+08:002011-06-03T18:02:15.465+08:005 Ways To Make Time For Long-Term ProjectsOriginal <a href="http://www.openforum.com/articles/5-ways-to-make-time-for-long-term-projects">HERE</a>.<br /><br />If most of your revenue is generated through daily interactions with customers, a project can be problematic. Longer-term engagements require thought processes that are much different than day-to-day tasks.<br /><br />New business initiatives can be more troublesome. Projects involving innovation, such as investigating the potential of a new product line, choosing and applying a new technology to operations, or figuring out what trends are relevant to your industry and business, can be ambiguous at the start. Planning for these can be more complex and require greater agility.<br /><br />Whether your goal is a completed project or business initiative, planning now can allow you to avoid panicking about missed deadlines, botched presentations, lower-than-average efficiency, or missed market opportunities later.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">1. Deal with your resistance to planning</span><br /><br />Maybe you don’t have extra time now to devote to preparing for an event or plotting how to capitalize on a trend that may (or may not) be relevant to your business. Based on your best calculations, your workload will be lighter in a few months, giving you time to plan and execute well before any deadlines or changes in the business landscape.<br /><br />Maybe a project or technology doesn’t seem all that complicated or time-consuming. You believe that you don’t really need to explore or analyze anything right now order to execute effectively when the timing is right.<br /><br />Maybe your business model and project deliverables involve day-of-event issues so that not planning seems like a wiser use of time. You can’t get commitments from vendors, customers, etc. too far in advance and you can’t predict trends, so you don’t even try.<br /><br />But as a deadline looms or as methods, technologies, trends that were cutting edge years ago become widely accepted as norm, forethought looks smarter. What to do? Craft a plan to keep the order-shipping routine intact and make progress toward your goals so that you can calmly approach your workdays.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">2. Figure out what you plan to accomplish</span><br /><br />Figure out what you want to do in as precise terms as possible. A project for a customer should have firmly established objectives, deadlines, and budgets. The design of a new product line, trend analysis, or technology investigation should have general parameters with allowances for flexibility throughout the planning and execution phases.<br /><br />Engage those involved in your project or initiative. Clarify areas of uncertainty or possible confusion. Think about what success will look like if execution is flawless. If the vision of your stakeholders is described differently than yours, or the ROI looks unreasonable, ask more questions and tighten your project’s definition. Develop a shared understanding of what requirements and outcomes are fixed, and which are flexible.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">3. Get a handle on the details</span><br /><br />Planning at a high level is pretty easy. But when you start identifying details of a project or initiative, things get more complicated and overwhelming. Cataloguing the details to be considered and acted upon is crucial to effective execution. So, take your time and make the effort to nail down specifics.<br /><br />How should you figure out the details to be included in the plan? Unless you have led many projects or spearheaded new programs just like the ones you are plotting now, it’s likely that you will miss something. But don’t let uncertainty stop you. Get started and then fill in the gaps.<br /><br />Write down the details you have already considered. Take a mental walk-through the entire project or program to discover more. Consult an expert to uncover items that you would have never considered or may have mistakenly judged inconsequential to the success of your project or business initiative. Translate details into action items.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">4. Set aside time</span><br /><br />Make room on your calendar for project tasks, interjecting them with everyday business. Ideally, you can create a project plan, listing one action item after another in a linear sequence until all actions are completed and the project is complete.<br /><br />Note that business initiatives and innovation projects may not follow a straight linear path. For these situations, certain actions will lead to defining next steps but may involve temporary reversals before moving ahead. Doug DeCarlo describes one way of guiding this process as extreme project management.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">5. Start now</span><br /><br />Start as early as possible so that the schedule can accommodate setbacks as well as surges in everyday execution without compromising completion dates.<br /><br />Develop strategies to keep the project or initiative moving forward.<br />Devise timelines that take into consideration lead times for products to be ordered, services to be arranged, project approvals from stakeholders.<br />Discover what actions are dependent on previous steps so that your path is as linear as possible and backtracking is unnecessary.<br />Anticipate constraints and allocate resources to prevent bottlenecks based on these limits.<br />Review project status regularly to deal with unexpected or recurring problems.<br />Make decisions quickly and stay focused on well-defined and well-understood goals of projects and initiatives.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-479075218887808316.post-31376517934769111132008-06-16T04:40:00.003+08:002008-11-14T05:28:17.322+08:00The Epicurean's Secret CalendarWas called in to do a quick copywriting intervention on a promotional brochure for Carcosa Seri Negara. Clients loved what I did and the text went into print almost immediately. Perhaps the fastest turnaround from brief (Friday) to production (Wednesday) I had ever experienced.<br /><br />Here's the cover and back:<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bzYpeFXov9Y/SFV_OhTp-qI/AAAAAAAAAzM/CIQ0Yb-0Qmk/s1600-h/CSN_July08FnBoutside.bmp"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bzYpeFXov9Y/SFV_OhTp-qI/AAAAAAAAAzM/CIQ0Yb-0Qmk/s320/CSN_July08FnBoutside.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212212031186926242" /></a><br /><br />And here's the inside:<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bzYpeFXov9Y/SFV_96y_olI/AAAAAAAAAzU/NL01AN-e9qI/s1600-h/CSN_July08FnBinside.bmp"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bzYpeFXov9Y/SFV_96y_olI/AAAAAAAAAzU/NL01AN-e9qI/s320/CSN_July08FnBinside.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212212845483106898" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-479075218887808316.post-66368003646559084592008-03-17T23:59:00.000+08:002008-03-30T00:00:57.125+08:00HOPEHe drifts into the knowledge <br />that what he knows <br />will never subsume <br />the unknown.<br /><br />And so he must learn <br />to embrace the unknown like <br />a familiar friend he had lost contact with <br />for many, many years.<br /><br />They re-connect, <br />he and this wine dark future, <br />and no love feels lost.<br /><br />(Must. Should. Will.)<br /><br />The unknown becomes familiar, <br />to survive the next second.<br />Next hour. <br />Next day, week, month and year.<br /><br />No doubt he will flow with the clock, <br />yet he reaches out to grasp the reeds <br />but the current carrying him fast<br />past<br />only aids <br />their razor-sharp edges <br />to draw deep cuts <br />into his palms, <br />rewriting history.<br /><br />He yearns to know: <br /><br />Why do you <br />make me believe <br />that you are <br />my saviour<br />when often <br />I feel you <br />delight to<br />crucify me?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-479075218887808316.post-9521197821052875022008-01-15T02:07:00.000+08:002008-01-15T02:11:39.612+08:00Movie MusicalsDear Mr Vernon,<br /><br />We were the four students from MDIS who did the street interview with you and Mr Rohaizat and Mr Dan Myer in the Esplanade Mall last Sunday (6th Jan 2008). <br /><br />We would like to thank you for your time and assistance in helping us with the brief interview. Due to your relevant expertise for our assignment, would it be possible if you could further help us with a few more in-depth questions?<br /><br />If you could assist us, we have attached the questions to this email for your kind perusal. We hope to get in touch with Mr Rohaizat and Mr Myer as well, and were hoping if you could pass along their contacts to us.<br /><br />Sincere appreciation for your kind help and inputs. We eagerly await for your reply.<br /><br />Best Regards,<br /><br />Charlene Poo<br />Ivan Wee<br />Xiao Shuyun<br />Julianatasha Salleh<br /><br /> <br /><br />V A Emuang to charlene, Ivan, j_natasha88, jerlaine2505, Xiao<br /><br />show details 01:50 (8 minutes ago) <br /><br />Gosh why did just four simple questions have to be appended via a MS-WORD document?<br />If I had known I would have answered them earlier. :-)<br /><br />Does that sound like a great excuse for handing this in two days late?<br /><br />Sorry for the delay.<br /><br />Peace - V<br /><br />Questionnaire<br /><br />1. How long have you been in the Arts industry?<br /><br />Forever. I graduated with an BA (English) degree and my major was Theatre Arts - in 1984. So - you do the math. :-)<br /><br /><br />2. What do you think about the evolution of musical films over the years?<br /><br />Musical films? Presume you mean 'movie musicals' as per the genre you asked us about two Sundays ago. Well it has evolved with movie-making technology. And so special effects is as much a part of the narrative, or influences narrative. Music has become, even more so,dramatic atmosphere and emotional soundscape, in addition to just melodies upon which a lyricist may hang plot and character, a la traditional stage musicals.<br /><br /><br />3. What are the driving forces behind a successful/effective musical film?<br /><br />Always - plot and character. The story. What is t'he story'. Always. Of course the things that make a movie a movie musical such as the music, choreography, singing, singers, etc ... that's a given. But eventually, it's the story. How it makes great people look humble - or humble people look great.<br /><br /><br />4. Do you think that musical films contribute to social values?<br /><br />Behind every story is a moral. All art is contributive, constructive ... but only to a mind that allows it to do as such. That is a call made by the reader/viewer, but would be influenced by other external factors. Art education, media, marketing and promotion. The movie musical, like any artform, which encourages empathy, contributes to the social value of 'empathy' - perhaps the most fundamental and under-rated of all social values.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-479075218887808316.post-51222824226737825852008-01-07T21:02:00.000+08:002008-01-07T21:10:57.689+08:00Incommunicado's ideal<em><span style="font-size:85%;">I just unearthed this article which appeared in the 4th October 2005 issue of the New Sunday Times, in a column entitled "My perfect weekend". I was interviewed by Intan Maizura.</span></em><br /><br /><br />Livewire arts activist and marketing communications consultant, Vernon Adrian Emuang is hard to pin down but INTAN MAIZURA manages to halt him for a tete-a-tete.<br /><br />Picture by HAMSIAH ABU BAKAR<br /><br />FOR THOSE OF US NOT IN THE Arts circle, the name Vernon Adrian Emuang, 44, might probably elicit a `blur' reaction. Others may remember him for his wacky turns as Jeffrey Ong's sidekick eons ago on the now defunct TV3 IT offering, Cyberwave. But that's not to say he's been dormant. This lively Sarawakian just does not know the meaning of the word `stop', furiously and actively working behind the scenes, on a number of projects. He is presently involved in KL Sing-Song 2005, the first ever regional singer/ songwriter conference and workshop in Malaysia, which incidentally is produced by his own company of eight years, Artsee Networks.<br /><br />"I was also recently involved in Yasmin Ahmad's Sepet, helping to negotiate and secure sponsorship for the premiere as I believed a lot in the film - it's a powerful film in a very sweet way. I wanted to support it so when I discovered it was going to be released, I got very excited and came on board," explains Vernon.<br /><br />He has also been busy helping out RTM with voice-overs and scripts for a documentary series called Malaysian Food Discovery, of which there are going to be 26 episodes in all. "I don't go out on the shoots but I do go through the footages. And then I write the script and subsequently do the voice-overs."<br /><br />It's been a long time since he has had any breaks, let alone a weekend off but Vernon definitely knows what'll make his weekend perfect.<br /><br />"It would be one where nothing has been planned and I am in a foreign place, where nobody speaks English so I can't really communicate normally with anybody and everybody is a stranger. Of course, I would have at my disposal enough money for a decent meal and to probably catch a bus or taxi somewhere, anywhere.<br /><br />"It would be one of those days where I'd wake up to a bright sunny morning, in another place that I'm not used to. Maybe Tokyo, Paris, Canberra - I'm a city person! It's not familiar but neither is it completely strange. I'd just walk out onto the streets where I'd have to use my wits to get around, but the people are friendly, of course.<br /><br />"I'd start off by looking for a decent breakfast which would have to include bacon and eggs - I don't know why - and lots of fruit. I'd then look for interesting cultural and art places to head for, like a gallery or something. Nothing would be planned; I prefer to stumble into things because I get enough of having to keep to schedule when I'm at work!<br /><br />"In fact, that's how I stumbled into the Picasso Museum in Paris and the Louvre, also in the city. A saxophone player who was playing inside this cavernous porch - basically the portal of a castle - caught my attention. The sound was amazing and I just stood there for half an hour just listening. I didn't know where I was really and after half an hour decided to move on. I moved out of the portal into this courtyard, which was huge and barren with just sand. I thought, 'Oh, this is interesting, it's a castle'. The next thing I knew, I walked into this area with all these pyramids. It was the Louvre. I still remember this moment.<br /><br />"Looking for deodorant in Tokyo was also exciting. I still remember it because it was quite an adventure looking for it. My bags went missing on a flight to Tokyo where I was supposed to meet some clients on the day I arrived. I had to resort to using sign language. Every time I asked for deodorant, they kept pointing me to the most expensive perfumes! "I've had that kind of experience before and it's quite refreshing because you're challenged a little and you have to slow down to communicate, so you have to slow everything down to understand what's going on.<br /><br />"When I was growing up, weekends meant church in the morning with my parents, then a family breakfast. That was fun. We'd trundle off to the Section 14 market (in Petaling Jaya) and buy stuff - all the hawker food and then come back and the whole dining table would be scattered with hawker food still in their wrappers. We'd have to forage through them to find what we wanted. I also used to do a lot of things with my brothers (I don't have sisters), whether it was cleaning the house, or helping my mum with the baking.<br /><br />"A perfect weekend could be with my family whose company I enjoy, or it could be alone or even with friends. I guess as long as there's no set programme, it would be perfect. Wake up, have breakfast, do anything that comes to mind and just let things move along. Unrushed, unplanned, and where surprises just keep popping up.<br /><br />"If I can go to bed that night thinking, 'oooh, what a great day and it wasn't even planned', I would have had a great weekend. I just love that whole idea of serendipity with all the happy accidents that happen."Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-479075218887808316.post-84092510365177394572007-12-10T03:34:00.000+08:002007-12-14T16:30:45.850+08:00TARAP MAN (STAR Review)<i>The review in THE STAR of 9th December 2007</i><br /><p><span style="font-size:+2;">More than meets the eye<br /></span><br />In this play set 13 years ago in Sabah, double-edged one-liners helped to lift it into the contemporary realm.<br /><br />THE TARAP MAN<br /><br />Dec 5-9<br />The Annexe Gallery,<br />Central Market, KL<br /><p><br />Review by SARAS MANICKAM<br /><p><br />THEY said The Tarap Man is a journalistic thriller. They lied. The Tarap Man is more than that. It is an unflinching look at a system that failed and continues to fail the individual.<br /><p>It is about socio-political reality failing common humanity; about the fourth estate (Senior journalist to young award-winning one: “Once upon a time, there was a Fourth Estate.” “Where?”) failing to maintain journalistic integrity, preferring to play ball instead. It is about metaphors of life, surviving the system and rising above it. The play may have been set 13 years ago but given recent events, the threads are wholly contemporary.<br /><br />The Tarap Man is set in Sabah. It is about a boy incarcerated for the murder of his mother in 1952 and presumably still in prison with the system having forgotten about him. More than 50 years later, a journalist struggles to unravel the truth about him. Against the backdrop loom the state elections of 1994, a critical testing time for the system, individual and the public at large.<br /><div align="center"><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/vernonadrianemuang/TarapMan02/photo#5142056585804349954"><img src="http://lh4.google.com/vernonadrianemuang/R1xBOJPTggI/AAAAAAAAAgg/NxOx16ND4Kc/s800/annevernon.bmp" /></a> <i><br />When Aashi (Anne James) finally meets the tarap man (Vernon Adrian Emuang), she is swept into his secret, cryptic world.</i> </div><div align="left"><br /><br />The play could have descended into ponderous pathos; instead, it is largely accessible and absorbing, thanks to gifted acting, direction and production. Double-edged one-liners helped to lift the play into the contemporary realm. Goes one line: “What makes you think that those who fight for democracy are democratic themselves?” And when Cornelia (Mia Palencia) is chuffed about her award-winning piece on endangered corals, she meets with “So you think that if they know, they will care?” Perhaps the most thought provoking line belongs to Leong Kin (Thor Kah Hoong) when he tells his editor: “Do not mistake my silence for my compliance.” </div><div align="left"><br />Rising above being merely entertained, the audience is constantly forced to assess meaning within meaning and so an interactive process is created. For this, if not anything else, go watch this wholly original local play by Ann Lee. The play is in English but incorporates naturally into its flow, other languages such as Hakka, Telugu, Kadazan and Malay. </div><div align="left"><br />Aashi (Anne James) is a Semenanjung journalist in Sabah, in cold storage, for writing one too many critical pieces against the establishment. She is advised by friend and colleague, Leong Kin, to lie low. Aashi is incredulous. “Lie low? I am in Sabah. How low do you want me to go?” </div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">When Leong Kin corrects her usage of a preposition, she barks about his ability to “debate the details to death and miss the main point entirely”. Frustrated, cynical, increasingly depressed and dependant on her pills, Aashi finds in the search for the tarap man, a lifeline to rescue herself from her own darkness and rigor mortis. </div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">As she delves deeper, she comes up against a hardened, routinely obstructive public system as well as the authoritarian stance of her editor, Regina (Christina Orow), indifferent to “the epic miscarriage of justice”. </div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">As character interacts with character, the players find that the quest for the tarap man has irrevocably changed their own perspectives. Leong Kin learns to stand up for truth, forsaking security and even Aashi, in her quest for truth, learns about honesty from fresh-faced, idealistic Cornelia. </div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">When she finally meets him, Aashi connects immediately with the tarap man (Vernon Adrian Emuang). </div><div align="left"> </div><div align="center"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/vernonadrianemuang/TarapMan02/photo#5142056577214415346"><img src="http://lh6.google.com/vernonadrianemuang/R1xBNpPTgfI/AAAAAAAAAgY/L7c6jEKsxs8/s800/leongkincornelia.bmp" /></a> <i><br />A different kind of mentoring. Leong Kin (Thor Kar Hoong) wants more from Cornelia (Mia Palencia) than what she is willing to give. </i></div><em></em><div align="left"><br />Their critical scene together, pivotal to the play, is perhaps the weakest scene, marred by a script that suddenly becomes a mishmash of the obscure, the incomprehensible and the simply too confusing. A tighter reined script here, that allows the leaps and incoherence without sacrificing understanding, would have been good.<br /></div><p>We get the gist though: the tarap man is no mad creature. He is governed by his own unconventional views and methods. Perhaps saner than many, he is cryptic, mysterious, complex and he cunningly keeps his secrets.<br /><br />Single-minded in pushing his agenda, Aashi refuses to acknowledge or cover the larger-than-life political crisis in Sabah then and so is sacked again.<br /><br />There are many threads in the play and not all of them quite work. We don’t know what is really in the letters. Did the tarap man actually kill his mother? Is he mad pretending to be sane pretending to be mad? There are no neat tie-ups but it doesn’t quite matter.<br /><br />Director Zahim Albakri is brilliant – though I can’t understand the necessity for the table tennis scene. Vernon Adrian Emuang, Anne James and Thor Kah Hoong are outstanding and the rest of the cast, very impressive. </p><p>At intermission, the audience finds itself ushered out by a cold-faced prison guard: “Pigi! Pigi! Pigi! Cepat!” Her words are chilling. I would use the words with more warmth and say, “Pigi! Pigi! Pigi cepat and watch the play.”<br /></p><p> </p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-479075218887808316.post-81951283808900575582007-08-12T17:10:00.000+08:002007-08-13T05:22:55.380+08:00The Deafening SilenceIt sings a mocking dirge<br />A melody untuned<br />Which rocks upon the earth<br />Unsettling every dune<br />And while the tides unfurl<br />A froth of hope and gloom<br />A precious little girl<br />Stands silent in my room.<br /><br />So much was shared between<br />The wires of a song<br />But everything seems nothing<br />Since you won't play along.<br /><br />Perhaps I should have not<br />had that facetious thought.<br /><br /><br />"But he that dares not grasp the thorn, should never crave the rose." - Ann BronteUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-479075218887808316.post-38078018215122878452007-08-02T17:52:00.000+08:002007-08-02T17:55:24.434+08:00A Personal Belief About BeliefsBelief is an amazing thing. While belief is neither a fact nor an empirical, it can hold great sway among many of us.<br /><br />Perhaps this is because belief brings order to a chaotic mind, a chaotic world.<br /><br />Belief decrees, and so demarcates, and while it arranges, it is divisive. The more there is of one kind of it - the more likely that those who stand apart from that kind of belief may be excluded by it. Often, those who make the choice to question a belief, or challenge it, put themselves at great risk of exclusion or derision by those greater in number who stand by it.<br /><br />Belief is perception. It is not reality. Often we forget. But then, what is reality but a prevailing agreement of the most common perceptions. So, widespread belief can immolate reality with its fervour.<br /><br />Thankfully, belief is known to evolve. Change. It must. Because the human mind is a fickle thing.<br /><br />And that which finds home within, like a belief, may also change. Evolve.<br /><br />Yet, belief would rather forget that the only constant is change. Mostly, belief hates this . Because belief believes it exists to bring order to a chaotic mind. Belief thrives in diplomacy, which advocates order. But belief does not need diplomacy. For when a belief is strong enough, diplomacy is a hindrance. Like a stampeding horde, a popular belief that has never been challenged will trample underfoot those who linger in inquiry or doubt. Or even in diplomacy.<br /><br />Belief unchallenged is a ball of snow allowed to roll down a slope. Belief unchallenged may grow bigger, but that does not mean it will grow better. A snowball, no matter the size, is always just a snowball. It cannot pretend to have turned into an igloo. That needs work. Needs craft. Needs inquiry and discussion to shape and mould it into something more useful.<br /><br />That’s my belief. What’s yours?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-479075218887808316.post-55582189620583821722007-08-01T19:14:00.000+08:002007-08-03T15:40:58.254+08:00Swept AwayMy unbridled<br />optimism gets in the<br />way of<br />my longing to be<br />a fabulous realist.<br /><br />It is true.<br /><br />I think too much.<br /><br />Your one gesture spoke<br />volumes.<br /><br />And a castle rose up<br />upon the fecund beach<br />where many ruins now stand.<br /><br />There another ruin<br />now stands.<br /><br />And I feel wonderful.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-479075218887808316.post-34447694441813375542007-07-08T19:02:00.000+08:002007-07-08T19:04:15.409+08:00Eaten AwayCutting my losses<br />Just moving on<br />Accepting defeat<br />Extracting a thorn<br /><br />How was I fooled?<br />Blind as a bat<br />Humility absent<br />You're not where I'm at.<br /><br />Yeah, go on, snigger<br />Playing your game<br />Who's your next quarry?<br />So friggin'lame<br /><br />Should I just hope you<br />Choke on your bile<br />Even your death<br />Isn't worthwhile.<br /><br />All this is silly<br />The anger I feel<br />Frustration uncloaks me<br />Rage makes me its meal.<br /><br />Why this theatrics?<br />It baffles me so.<br />Because it was not<br />where I wanted to go.<br /><br />And when I relented<br />You knew you had snared<br />This stupid damn fool<br />That could never be spared.<br /><br />You gawked and you prodded<br />And when you were bored<br />Made the decision<br />To ignite the discord.<br /><br />This throwaway thing<br />Is how I do feel.<br />Frustration uncloaks me<br />Rage makes me its meal.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-479075218887808316.post-61509933152090541482007-06-25T18:11:00.000+08:002008-11-14T05:28:17.524+08:00The Anticipation of ArrivalThis is a campaign I created for Ismail & Associates in the advertising account pitch for Mutiara Crowne Plaza Hotels sometime in 2005. Yes, <em>that </em>long ago. <em>Sigh</em>.<br /><br />The hospitality chain was formerly known as Merlin Hotels & Resorts, and they had various kinds of hotels in cities and resorts.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/vernonadrianemuang/BootlegLightbulbs/photo?authkey=9LT2pg3iMnI#5079944302901294530"><img src="http://lh4.google.com/image/vernonadrianemuang/Rn-WbcUzdcI/AAAAAAAAAYA/Pcg7mSsJJzo/s400/mutiara%20ad%20campaign1.jpg" /></a> <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/vernonadrianemuang/BootlegLightbulbs/photo?authkey=9LT2pg3iMnI#5079944710923187666"><img src="http://lh3.google.com/image/vernonadrianemuang/Rn-WzMUzddI/AAAAAAAAAYI/Cr4MbfZqTPU/s400/mutiara%20ad%20campaign2.jpg" /></a><br /><br />As per the usual with some of my best work (well, I <em>do like</em> this series of ads), another agency got the account and these thumbnails remain for me to gloat about as great ideas that were never realised.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/vernonadrianemuang/BootlegLightbulbs/photo?authkey=9LT2pg3iMnI#5079948636523296226"><img src="http://lh5.google.com/image/vernonadrianemuang/Rn-aXsUzdeI/AAAAAAAAAYQ/RjqUwwlaHBY/s400/mutiara%20ad%20campaign3.jpg" /></a> <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/vernonadrianemuang/BootlegLightbulbs/photo?authkey=9LT2pg3iMnI#5079949443977147890"><img src="http://lh5.google.com/image/vernonadrianemuang/Rn-bGsUzdfI/AAAAAAAAAYY/J9XYz244HBU/s400/mutiara%20ad%20campaign4.jpg" /></a><br /><br />My strategy was to create anticipation via suggestive and evocative headlines. Stir the kind of excitement in a reader's imagination as if they were about to embark on a trip, or arrive at a destination.<br /><br />It was about creating a feeling for a place that is almost palpable even though you hadn't been there yet.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/vernonadrianemuang/BootlegLightbulbs/photo#5079951217798641154"><img src="http://lh6.google.com/image/vernonadrianemuang/Rn-ct8UzdgI/AAAAAAAAAYg/ZYVRFhSvos0/s400/mutiara%20ad%20campaign5.jpg" /></a> <a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bzYpeFXov9Y/Rn-qsMUzdiI/AAAAAAAAAY4/Ucq4Q-IBX-g/s1600-h/mutiara+ad+campaign6.jpg"></a> <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/vernonadrianemuang/BootlegLightbulbs/photo#5079966580896658978"><img src="http://lh3.google.com/image/vernonadrianemuang/Rn-qsMUzdiI/AAAAAAAAAY4/nVHFYANpjn0/s400/mutiara%20ad%20campaign6.jpg" /></a><br /><br />Isn't that the excitement and anticipation of travel?<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/vernonadrianemuang/BootlegLightbulbs/photo#5080326447616456242"><img src="http://lh4.google.com/image/vernonadrianemuang/RoDx_MUzdjI/AAAAAAAAAZA/J3lhCBqtQy8/s400/mutiara%20ad%20campaign7.jpg" /></a><br /><br />Do you think it works here?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-479075218887808316.post-50085115852936473362007-06-04T07:52:00.000+08:002007-06-11T09:43:30.738+08:00Wake Up The Village!<a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://malaysia.answers.yahoo.com/question/index?qid=20070528213153AAHBUHO">MM asked</a>:<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">How do we change mindsets towards women so that they are no longer the victims of violence and abuse?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">The word "abuse" isn't exclusive to physical harm. Many women around the world, across races, religions, income, class & cultures, are equally subjected to psychological, social or mental abuse, which are sometimes even more damaging than physical violence.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">How can sexist, derogatory & abusive attitudes be overcome?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">What role do the rest of us play in this process of change?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">So I answered</span>:<br /><br />Mindsets and attitudes can only change with education and illumination, over time ... and each of us have the responsibility to do what we can when we see injustice of any kind.<br /><br />We must speak out because evil triumphs when good people do nothing.<br /><br />We must be proactive - teach young people to be empathetic and compassionate. Give them the awareness to recognize injustice, and how it can damage and hurt.<br /><br />Bring home the truth of what hurts and destroys, what is evil and what aids the negative actions of others.<br /><br />Young children should be nurtured on parables and fables, all those great stories that can fuel the imagination and strike a chord in the heart.<br /><br />Those neurons must be sensitized from a young age. And this also happens when children themselves are subjected to care and compassion by adults. Are we spending enough time with them on these story-lessons?<br /><br />Parents need to spend precious, quality time with their children. Adults need to set strong and clear examples. Abberant adults should be taken to task by those who witness their intolerable actions, especially when children are about.<br /><br />It is true that it takes a whole village to bring up a child, and our villages need to come together fast!<br /><br /><br />Then I decided to take advantage of Yahoo! Answers:<br /><br />Question: <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">I am unable to stay focussed on goals that I want to achieve. What can I do?</span><br /><br />Question Details: <br /><br />Too many ideas, not enough cerebral RAM or physical energy. I seem to be chasing my own tail on many things. I know that once I set my mind to it, I can make things happen. The universe has been good to me that way - providing many opportunities, and connecting me with wonderful helpful and generous friends and family. But I still feel unfulfilled. What's really missing?<br /><br />I can't wait to see what answers come back.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Wake up the Village Idiot!<span style="font-style:italic;"></span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-479075218887808316.post-27726037899825579182007-06-04T07:12:00.000+08:002008-11-14T05:28:17.679+08:00A Curious Blend<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-Uvzp2Hpr0N-71IMAhuDaaqGvgTaCwJLM0WJF8B9yfDIS0NjUQec8Y_32kaMp-sYQQ04UW4_XWQc23-tIyN2TpK4h5iqQPz99er6URoLXgyNNceXsrC6bMwL14kx9HUmT5ByrUGkPTlQ/s1600-h/burmahroad.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-Uvzp2Hpr0N-71IMAhuDaaqGvgTaCwJLM0WJF8B9yfDIS0NjUQec8Y_32kaMp-sYQQ04UW4_XWQc23-tIyN2TpK4h5iqQPz99er6URoLXgyNNceXsrC6bMwL14kx9HUmT5ByrUGkPTlQ/s320/burmahroad.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5071919252240689362" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Burmah Road is one of the oldest parts of Georgetown in Penang, and is a main street for Kampung Serani. This was where a Eurasian community re-settled from Thailand, brought over by the British to act as go-betweens between the colonists and the local people, in the late 1700s.<br /><br />I wrote these few verses to start me off, and hope to extend it further at a later stage.<br /></span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">BURMAH ROAD</span><br /><br />Remember when the roads were lined<br />With shady trees as old as time<br />A village where proud houses stood<br />On pedestals or stilts of wood.<br /><br />The families who lived here then<br />Comprising of a curious blend,<br />Were not as obvious just by face<br />To fit just one specific race.<br /><br />For here was quite a melting pot<br />Of foreign ties and polyglots,<br />Where great-grandpa now buried here<br />Did come by ship from not so near.<br /><br />(<span style="font-style: italic;">To be continued...</span> )Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-479075218887808316.post-69804641616148550322007-05-23T02:03:00.000+08:002007-07-05T18:00:33.381+08:00Wilting Without GraceI am wilting. It is getting unbearably hot here. Not the kind that tingles the pores of your skin like a well-earned sauna. It is quite different. It is an oppressive kind of heat and I feel driven to jump from this <em>kuali </em>into Sungei Wang. Blame the humidity, the high percentage of moisture in the air that clots each laboured breath, makes the skin clammy, and makes even a harmless cotton-blend from British India feel like a Lycra straight-jacket fashioned for a rave at your local downtown asylum. It is the kind of humidity only fat Cuban cigars with equally fat price tags could appreciate. Not me. I cannot roll that way.<br /><br />I am wilting. Even though my great-grandparents were born here (all eight should be enough), and probably their parents, too, the mitochondrial legacy within me struggles to acclimatize. Should I wonder why it would take this long? Will my children's children feel as alien? When is the time when my progeny will fully feel at ease, fully integrate and disappear into the <em>kerawang</em>? Until then, do we deserve to be treated like … well, termites?<br /><br />I am wilting. I feel the energy draining from me. The oppresive temperature bears down on any semblance of hope I ever did harbour. Yes, it once sprang from my breast with enthusiasm born of youth. Perhaps, more than a port-of-call, what my post-adolescent hope really needed was an aircraft carrier. Not long ago, in the last millennium, as a returnee, that idealistic foreign graduate – stupid me – I should have launched my unapologetic assault upon these beloved shores. But now more than I had ever imagined, I feel embattled – like many around me; bullied by crafty, titled figures of authority, brow beaten by badge-wielding officers behind glass counters, held frozen by those swirling blue lights on screaming white Protons. The servants are not civil in this land of Planta. They look at me with contempt because they have been told that their gourd is more bitter than mine, or because language fails me. Annie Lennox knew this well. (I love her voice and know she sings for me.)<br /><br />And you? Are you not wilting, too? Surely, sister, you must be choking in those swarthes of fabric meant to keep sandblasting winds at bay as they would (as you are so often told) those dreadful primal distractions. And, <em>Tuan</em>, can't you see how the sweltering demarcations are closing in around you, until where you may sip an iced <em>cincau</em> even will be governed by men with oily moustaches?<br /><br />I am wilting. My knees tremble because the spot where I stand has shifting sands. I am told I should be thankful that it is not quicksand. This could be one of those places you see on CNN, they say. The kind that in time will become the setting of an award-winning epic movie or television blockbuster. Where the hundreds of extras the producers hire won't need to move too much. Listen … maybe they all started this way, too? Something strange would hang in the air which not nearly enough among them ever thought required speaking up about. So, the strangeness unchallenged crept over them like another harmless twilight. Lines drawn in the sand, differences no longer merely observed but legislated, and soon the yellow stars come out to play. <em>Syurga </em>forbid we ever come to that? <em>Choy</em>! Is it not strange that inclusion must be fought for?<br /><br />Oh, I am wilting. <em>Aku melayu</em>. Can I say that? Well, I did. Because I so want to – truly.<br /><br />____<br /><br /><em>This piece (a lightly abridged version) appeared in the Ramblings column of TELL (July 2007) magazine. Do pick up a copy - it's one of the more daring magazines around.</em>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-479075218887808316.post-47583226618418699602007-04-10T03:57:00.000+08:002007-07-20T03:20:33.941+08:00No AnswersThe turning point<br />was a fog<br />heavy and harsh<br />choking all hope<br />all sight<br />ending dreams<br />with a quick, decisive stab.<br /><br />Screams of disbelief<br />like wind-chimes in a cyclone<br />a mind trying to find meaning,<br />looking back for signs,<br />wondering why the earth disappeared from beneath my feet.<br /><br />Both planted so firm, at least I thought, on a feeling.<br /><br />But these pass. Like he did, this sniper, and I am still unable to curse his mother.<br /><br />Fondness became despair,<br />like the second foot thrust into<br />the same pyjama leg.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-479075218887808316.post-55492140215009735222006-11-29T01:51:00.000+08:002007-07-19T01:59:10.470+08:00Sparkle & AweWhen one thinks of the House of Cartier, that designer brand of timepieces and jewellery, one would think of classic designs best accompanied with a quietly elegant sense of style. But a turn at an exhibition featuring creations from its Heritage Collection recently spun my head around on two counts: that Cartier has a radical history, and that a respect for tradition is best matched with a daring for innovative side-steps into the untried and unprecedented.<br /><br />The exhibition was The Art of Cartier, a collection of specially commissioned jewellery and precious objects comprising over 100 pieces specially repurchased in the past twenty years, and selected to tour the world since 1989. Its priceless gig at the National Museum of Singapore recently – the collection’s first showing in South-east Asia, was indeed a timely one as the last Preview Season event for the newly renovated Museum before its official re-launching.<br /><br />I arrived at the Museum aptly located on Stamford Road on the very last day of the The Art of Cartier, organised by the legendary maison, and presented by the Museum. This cosy collaboration between a Singaporean public organisation and a French designer-brand corporation at the Museum’s new extension, called Gallery Theatre, was truly dramatic – spotlit glass-cases nestled into staggered redbrick walls where the Cartier creations held sway like holy grottos. In this seemingly religious ambience a volunteer guide provided a spirited commentary. An enthusiastic gaggle of perfectly coiffured tai-tai’s and curious sunbaked backpackers toured the exhibits like pilgrims of gemstones and precious metal.<br /><br />Right from the start The Art of Cartier was an exceptional journey in time, in the history of design, and in quick glimpses into the lifestyles of the very rich and terribly famous. It seemed that Cartier was the choice of European royalty as well as Indian Maharajas, who would arrive at the Parisienne jeweller’s workshop with crates full of precious stones for the Cartier artisans to set in exquisite designs.<br /><br />The route of the exhibits begins with designs from the Belle Epoque era of the early 1900s. It was here that Cartier innovation trail-blazed its own course, employing for the first time platinum, which lent itself to mounts and settings that were as delicate as they were solid, and which showed off the sparkle of diamonds in a way gold and silver never could.<br /><br />Enamel, hardstone and a daring combination of colours were also the hallmark of Cartier. And the maison’s design inspirations came from as far-flung places as the Middle East, and China, capturing the imagination of those who had a penchant for the priceless, the exotic and the singularly unique.<br /><br />Materials, motifs, ideograms, mythical creatures and divinities inherited from these places exotic and unfamiliar to the West, were incorporated bravely into Cartier designs. Each must have caused quite a sensation in their time. Cultural fusion, long before the phrase had been coined, and of an exquisite craftsmanship that would have set Cartier way ahead of any other jewellers then.<br /><br />Nature may have inspired Cartier, but their artisans ensured that any one Cartier floral and animal designs would be bold and assertive in its materials, posture and architecture. Some boasted highly articulate structures, where wings quivered and tails could lash one way or the other.<br /><br />Hollywood celebrities too had their day with Cartier. Gloria Swanson, one of the silver screen’s earliest icons would be immortalised flashing not just one but two diamond, platinum and rock crystal bracelets fashioned by Cartier in what has been described as prefiguring jewellery as fashion accessory.<br /><br />One of the hallmarks of Cartier design is in the creation of their ‘mystery clocks’, where their hands seem to float in space without any visible connection to the movement. Utilizing crystal discs and an intricately concealed mechanism, Cartier mystery clocks are quite a sight to behold. I was mesmerised for quite a while as time passed, well … ‘mysteriously’.<br /><br />Other notable exhibits were the sword designed for Jean Cocteau, the famous ‘Crocodile’ necklace for Mexican actress Maria Felix, and the ostentatious creation for the Maharaja of Patiala – a heavily jewelled and gem-ed up number that would turn Elton John green with envy, or make Liberace do double-flips in his grave.<br /><br />While I am not really very much into jewellery, The Art of Cartier was quite an experience. It reminded me that when inspiration meets innovation, and when some daring is part of the mix, that is perhaps when some history can be left behind for others to gape at in total awe. I know I did. And it wasn’t even because of their price tags.<br /><br />(761 words)<br /><br /><br />The Art of Cartier was presented by National Museum of Singapore from 30th December to 17th October 2006.<br /><br /><br />(This piece was published in the February 2007 edition of THE HILT.)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-479075218887808316.post-47265771153376542362006-09-28T14:43:00.000+08:002007-07-19T01:49:47.126+08:00Not armies, but artistsThere are days I wake up wishing it were all a dream. It has never been easy, but hopefully, the pain can turn into joy. Like childbirth. No, this is not from personal experience. I am biologically male. Well, OK, anatomically, then. Genitally?<br /><br />But the truth is, a job in my chosen line – of being a writer such as those who churn out articles like this – is like living on the edge. From deadline, to deadline. Clever people like you will proclaim, “Life’s like that, what?”<br /><br />The wiser ones would chip in, “School is meant to prepare you for the dreaded deadline. And deadlines are good because targets must be met.” And to that I would add, “a wholly adult construct”. No wonder then that the wise are usually old. Deadlines can age you. Fast.<br /><br />Homework, projects, examinations. I am sure you have noticed how they have a tendency to turn days, weeks, and months into semesters, diplomas and degrees. One academic hurdle after another, and before you know it, you are flipping a motar board into the air, even as you yourself are propelled into the rat race. Fast.<br /><br />I graduated with a degree in the arts. A generalist of sorts, armed to do most things except build something out of sand or metal; cut, stitch and heal body or soul; or even argue in a court of law. And so it came to pass that I would find first employment as an advertising copywriter. This was in the last millennium. The truth is it was a decade and a half before the end of the last, when Lim Kok Wing was still a Mr., not yet institutionalized, and most people weren’t sure exactly what such a job entailed.<br /><br />For the uninitiated, I choose to repeat or, more aptly, plagiarise, from someone more articulate than I. He was, if memory serves me well, an advertising legend who said, “Copywriters spend ten percent of their time writing, and ninety percent of their time convincing their clients they really can write.”<br /><br />So, there you go. When I heard it, an epiphany happened. The uninitiated would need to be told that an epiphany is that light-bulb thing you see in comics. Except that this one was in neon tubes that spelt out the following: “Being creative isn’t just about, being creative. You need to be convincing.”<br /><br />Following that, another thing happened. (Dare I call it a pro-phani-ty?) Coupled like a wonderfully familiar cliché of a metaphor the phrase fell into my cerebral lap: creativity and conviction – they need each other, like, yes, the chicken and the egg. Of course, the second of the couplings we know as the tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum of metaphors.<br /><br />“But which is which?” did I hear you ask? It doesn’t matter if you get the point.<br /><br />If it is meant to go anywhere, do anything, or be of any worth, creativity requires conviction. And conviction with creativity rocks. It is as simple as that. Seriously simple. That it takes conviction to motivate, and encourage creativity.<br /><br />So what really is creativity? Those ideas turned into action that moves things forward. Some are simple, others more complex, each requiring the conviction of time, effort and support.<br /><br />Creativity usually begins with curiosity. And curiosity often begins with questions. So when two or three or more are gathered in the name of curiosity, asking questions and looking for answers, whether factual or artistic, we should not be afraid. Because, it simply means that creativity is a foot, and that the germination of more ideas is about to occur, and move us forward, as one happy kelompok.<br /><br />Imagine if Newton had ignored the apple, or Magellan had not bothered what lay beyond the horizon, where might mankind be right now? Not very far from where he first started, right?<br /><br />Let go further back. If prehistoric man had been cast into a hypnotic spell by the flickering tongues of a flame, and sat rigid not wondering if by its heat he could make his Brontasaurus steak a little more appetizing, could Chef Wan be a celebrity cook today?<br /><br />Ask? Answer.<br /><br />Creativity needs conviction. It needs our courage and support, not a tempurung, to flourish fearlessly and constructively.<br /><br />Imagine? When that happens, everywhere, nations could very well be represented not by armies, but by artists, and rather than fight with each other, we will simply show off our best, creative minds, moving mankind forward in mind, body and soul.<br /><br />Yes, when that happens – and it can, please: BE CONVINCED – the world will be one great big arts festival.<br /><br />Yes! Much more enjoyable than what’s going down here on earth and in our land just right now.<br /><br />So please, someone – set a deadline. Fast.<br /><br /><br />- THE SHRIMP WARRIOR~ fighting for the ‘lil flings<br /><br />(Published in WEEKEND MAIL - 28th September 2006)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-479075218887808316.post-87011884642093630282006-09-01T19:05:00.001+08:002007-07-19T19:08:27.819+08:00Text Appeal(Published in the November 2006 edition of THE HILT.)<br /><br />Lessons lurk in two kinds of history: those collected and endorsed by official historians; or that shared by a communal imagination. For instance, just how different is Malaysia from its nextdoor neighbour, Singapore? Expect this question to strike up fascinating chitchat among its citizens. Honestly. Providing, of course, neither of either ilk are in earshot of each other. So what better way to really tell it like it is than a cross-Causeway collaboration where written texts, not just scripts, are interpreted by theatre practitioners from the other country?<br /><br />Flashback: It is July 2004 at a popular nightclub called Zouk, but it is 5pm in the evening. Too early for the fashionable clubbing set of Kuala Lumpur yet people are streaming into one of its cavernous dancehalls. It will shock the regular Zouk visitor to know that this is a gathering of bespectacled bookworms and stuffy literary types. Billed as RIDE THE NICE BUS, the event is part of the inaugural Kuala Lumpur Literary Fest. Five of among KL's finest actors will give dramatic release to poems and extracts of plays. The material is Singaporean, the actors Malaysian, and the bus referred to as “Nice” is a popular executive coach service, which to this day plies dutifully between Kuala Lumpur and Singapore. Conceived by Madeleine Lee, Alvin Pang and Eleanor Wong (two Singaporean poets and a playwright), curated by Pang and Wong, and given over to Krishen Jit (Malaysian theatre director) to mould into a performative experience, the one-off performance of RIDE THE NICE BUS concludes to thunderous applause. <br /><br />The RIDE, from its opening poem, where the iconic Singaporean fountain is given a theatrical brushing down in Edwin Thumboo’s poem “Ulysses By The Merlion”, to the final piece, a lyrical extract from Kuo Pao Kun’s script “Descendants of the Eunuch Admiral”, is breathtaking. Jit deftly weaves Singapore’s diverse literary excavations for affirmation and identity into an exquisite tapestry, and the Malaysian actors deliver with honesty and vigour. The mainly Malaysian audience sees the nation nextdoor grappling with the many psychoses of fast-track development, walking the East-West tightrope of social and moral values, and empathizes. The next fuse is kindled when Lee, Wong, Jit and his wife, dancer-choreographer, Marion D’Cruz, share a post-show chitchat in a taxi-ride through KL.<br /><br />Fast-forward to a year later: September 2005, Singapore. The Singapore Writers Festival is coming to an end. Theatre company, W!LD RICE has been commissioned to present a stage production to close the festival. A re-enactment of the taxi chitchat by Wong and Lee, who has secured official support and funding) has inspired the company’s founder and artistic director, Ivan Heng, to revive Jit’s original Malaysian vision together with a Singaporean rejoinder. W!LD RICE buses in the Malaysian actors, perhaps 'Nice-ly' too, and Heng appends to Jit’s anthology his own response: Malaysian material curated by Leow Puay Tin (Malaysian playwright/actor), and a cast of five of among Singapore’s best. The back-to-back versions – like two nations in a theatrical pas de deux - would be billed by Heng as SECOND LINK – a reference to the newer, more modern bridge at Tuas that connects the two countries.<br /><br />As Heng builds on the original concept of “performed literature”, he is aided by a retrospective advantage, and a more wily Leow, who plumbs the depth of Malaysia's writing heritage, trawling up not just poetry and scripts, but also folklore, historical and government policy documents, press interviews, even a recipe for Steamed Chicken Rice. Enlarging the aperture of writings beyond just poetry and plays aptly echoes the polygenous social fabric in a more geographically and socially expansive Malaysia. Leow then titles it TIKAM-TIKAM: A MALAYSIAN ROULETTE and instructs that it lives up to its namesake, the tikam-tikam: a local lucky dip game that Malaysians and Singaporeans would have experienced as children. In similar ‘luck of the draw’ fashion (hence, the roulette reference) audience members would determine this chapter’s running sequence of Malaysian texts. Only the opening piece and the end piece would remain pre-determined and anchored. <br /><br />Between its set beginning and end, TIKAM-TIKAM’s unpredictable sequence of Malaysian texts each night would challenge the Singaporean performers – not unlike the way a Malaysian’s casual nature might push the wrong buttons of the more punctual, fastidious Singaporean. Its ‘one day this way, the next day that way’ line-up – perhaps cheeky acknowledgement of the peninisula’s more fragmented, organic, and edgy demeanour – would throw up new juxtapositions and contextual semantics with every showing. In fact, Leow’s curatorial decisions reflect a predilection to issues of race and religion, though always artistically veiled and stopping short of being overt and offensive. The opening piece, “In 1969” a short story by Beth Yahp about her mother in the year of Malaysia’s worst racial upheaval is a chilling yet heartfelt curtain-raiser.<br /><br />With SECOND LINK, the similiarities and differences of Malaysia and Singapore seem to loom like an apparition through a frosted windowpane – evident but not conclusive. The Singaporean audience connects, just as the Malaysians did to their writers one year before. It seems that cross-border empathy is an emotion leveraged best by imaginative artists. The last piece of TIKAM-TIKAM, and also the piece which closes SECOND LINK, is a poem called “Dance” by Fadzilah Amin. Malaysian actors return to the stage to partner each Singaporean for a poem about the Malay traditional dance known as Ronggeng. It is a masterly choice and brilliant dramaturgy: “If only at one point our hands could clasp / What rich variety of movement and gesture could be ours.”<br /><br />SECOND LINK is a runaway success. W!LD RICE is compelled to open the higher stalls at the spanking new National Library’s Drama Centre, to accommodate unanticipated ticket sales, audiences are delighted with the pumped-up version of what began as BUS, and a Singapore daily runs two lauding reviews of the production on the very same day. The new and improved formula of a text-exchange between theatre representatives of each country is ‘seconded’ enthusiastically by both critics and box-office. <br />Its success soon attracts the attention of the Hong Kong City Festival of Arts. Five months after, in January this year, W!LD RICE tailors a downsized version to fit a smaller venue, taking the project in a new form to a new audience. The bilateral cross-cultural endeavour generates waves of goodwill probably more lasting than any political entourage.<br /><br />In early August 2006, W!LD RICE launches the inaugural Singapore Theatre Festival. Living up to its name, it is the daring theatre company’s initiative to celebrate Singaporean writing. Five new scripts would premiere at this three-week celebration of new Singaporean plays. Without a major corporate sponsor, it is a massive gamble that pays off at the box-office, and Heng and his team are vindicated. Most of the total of nine productions are a sell-out. To close the festival, SECOND LINK is offered to Singaporean audiences for the second time, and given a second chance to be honed and polished, it is no surprise that Singaporeans lap it up ecstatically. At a festival meant to help springboard new Singaporean plays, a diverse selection of Malaysian writing, together with the talents of our actors, enjoyed their moment in the limelight. How can Malaysians not be pleased?<br /><br />On the eve of Malaysia’s 49th Hari Kebangsaan (National Day) W!LD RICE unleashed the 5th staging of this fascinating project for a Malaysian season to more acclaim. We can learn from history, yes, we all know that. Yet so often we forget to document the development of landmark creative and communal endeavours. I believe the BUS that became the LINK to be one such landmark, and we are reminded once again that artists truly build bridges. In this case especially, it is one bridge where no natural terrain, no flora nor fauna (not even a politician’s ego) had been compromised to build it.<br /><br />(1,299 words – 1 September 2006)<br /><br />+++++<br /><br />The Kuala Lumpur season of “SECOND LINK – The Singapore- Malaysia Text Exchange” was performed at The Actors Studio, Bangsar from 30th August to 3rd September 2006. It was directed by Ivan Heng and presented by Wild Rice in collaboration with Five Arts Centre and The Actors Studio. More information at http://www.wildrice.com.sg <br /><br />Vernon Adrian Emuang performed in the Singapore season of SECOND LINK in 2004. He is also an arts activist, highly supportive of intercultural, experimental and multigeneric projects.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-479075218887808316.post-58795132718168102022006-07-18T19:17:00.000+08:002007-07-19T01:38:22.232+08:00The Creepy Doyen<em>(This article appeared in the July 2006 edition of THE HILT. It was my very first magazine commission. The editor, Thomas Blum, was looking for someone to write about Krishen from an up-close point-of-view. I have Pang Khee Teik to thank for this. Not having had any success in convincing me to write for him during his tenure at </em><a href="http://www.kakiseni.com/"><em>www.kakiseni.com</em></a><em>, Pang suggested me to Thomas. I had no desire to make my private writings or feelings too public. I only agreed because I owe Krishen so much and miss him deeply. It became the first of three pieces in quick succession for The Hilt. I haven't looked back, since.)</em><br /><br /><br />Rehearsals would run in a shoplot in SS2, Petaling Jaya. The fragrance of Thai cooking wafted up from the restaurant below. Through untinted windows, the glare of the afternoon sun reminded us to be grateful for noisy air-conditioning.<br /><br />Competing against its numbing drone, we would run scenes from Chin San Sooi's "Yap Ah Loy – The Play", and he would be there again, this Indian man, a silent presence at every rehearsal. He would sneak in and perch himself on a wooden stool behind faux marble tables with collapsible legs. He would sit with arms folded, a hand propping a chin or stroking a greying goatee.<br /><br />I was not terribly curious about his identity – he did not seem important. After all, he had nothing to say. Years later, I would discover that anything he had to say, he would say it through others. Or he would say it only to you. The power of genius is never self-serving.<br /><br />The shophouse was Five Arts Centre – a nebulous collective of some of the most eminent visual and performance artists of mid-80s Malaysia. The Centre was founded by San Sooi, together with this Indian man, and several others - including that charismatic educationist and choreographer, Marion D'Cruz, who would in time become, in his own words, his 'rock solid producer' wife.<br /><br />As a fresh theatre graduate from a university education in Australia, I was keen to make it into the KL performing arts scene. A perilous decision, my parents believed. "Is that a living?" my father would ask. But I had found a spiritual home for my creativity. The Centre's methodologies in search for a contemporary Malaysian voice in performing arts practise echoed my need to give meaning to my own intercultural genetics and exhibitionistic imagination.<br /><br />As the sweat trickled down my temples after having worked silat moves into a scripted scene about Kuala Lumpur's ethnic Chinese founder, I would look across to the Indian man, looking like a gnarled stump of a tree behind a marble boulder and I would think that surely the performance arts in KL must have a future if one so old as him would be so interested in what we were doing. His sage-like presence seemed to decree some measure of gravity to our 'play'.<br /><br />For the next two and a half decades of my life – this same sage-like presence would make intermittent intrusions into it. And when it did, it left battle scars that I would reflect on with pride, reminding me of my vulnerabilities and my strengths as actor and entity. Many years later I would tell him how creepy I thought he was. The actor's psyche is both a fragile thing and a potent instrument, and he was its singular virtuoso. I felt he 'played' me well.<br /><br />When still alive, Krishen Jit (to be exact, of Punjabi extraction) was described as the doyen of Malaysian theatre. Before I knew its actual meaning, the word 'doyen' evoked for me an almost deifying quality, which I would have happily agreed to, as the intellectual power of the man became apparent to me. When I finally took the time to look up the dictionary, I was more than a little disappointed to find out that it simply meant 'the senior, or eldest male member of a group'. Ha! Didn't we know that already? The surprise to me was typical Krishen-esque. Together with Amarjit, 'Unassuming' was his middle name, and I feel maybe that is why in his living years he was so undeservingly uncelebrated.<br /><br />He never owned a car so he was always at the behest of the drivers among those he worked with. Being asked for a lift by the man was like winning an appointment with God. Peppered among our small talk when I gave him a lift would be precious, amusing insights he had about those on a project with him. It was not production gossip, neither were the stories he shared dismissive of anybody. Rather, they were snappy lessons about the complexity of individual souls in a way only a huge heart and a sharp mind like his could proffer.<br /><br />In the mid-90s, I was asked by Krishen to act in two of his landmark projects almost back-to-back. "Scorpion Orchid" was a provocative script by Lloyd Fernando, which allegorised the communal conflicts and riots of our pre-Independent era. It was invited to play at the Singapore Arts Festival of '94. The play would then be re-mounted for a Kuala Lumpur season one year later and I would reprise my role with a brand new Malaysian cast.<br /><br />In between, there would be the groundbreaking "Skin Trilogy". This trilogy of plays was playwright, K S Maniam's sci-fi take on love, marriage and identity in futuristic Malaysia, and Krishen the visionary conceived of a site-specific avant-garde multimedia performance, which would come alive in the numerous exhibition spaces of the National Art Gallery. His strategy was for actors, dancers and musicians to negotiate a processional performance among specially commissioned art installations. The grand result was a cornucopian spectacle of the most amazing theatrics I will ever be a part of.<br /><br />Now as I look back, I remember again how both projects touched on ideas of race and ethnicity in unprecedented, unapologetic ways. To have taken this one-year journey with Krishen is to have been there when a defining part of contemporary Malaysian theatre was forged. Though this 14-month stretch is really piddly against Krishen's forty years in the performing arts before he died, I will cherish the experience the way one clings on to memories of a life-changing love affair.<br /><br />A quick Google on Krishen Jit will unearth countless personality features and reviews as well as a slew of heart-wrenching tribute pages following his departure to that big theatre in the sky. To replicate his biography here would simply chronologize his formal credentials. Truly impressive as they may be, yet we must recognize that it was something more and deeper than all that kind of thing, which brought the massive congregation of every age and ethnicity to his funeral. The turnout on that saddest of days was befitting of a much loved and highly respected statesman, or guru or father-figure, or … OK, then: doyen. A doyen who had transformed landscapes of every kind.<br /><br />Krishen's significant span of work in academia, on cultural policy, and on the international stage would be dutifully repeated in the aftermath of his passing by the well-meaning media. But those who worked with him and shared his vision of art needed something more intimate and personal as the relationships he struck with each of us.<br /><br />So even to this day, many of us at the Centre would seek solace in our loss just as only close family members would, by reliving anecdotal fragments of being with him, some so incidental that the telling of it would bore those who did not really know him. Like the simple gestures of kindness and affection Krishen was terribly generous with, or the extraordinary revelations about our own quirks and kinks he would teasingly throw back at us when we least expected it, or even his mystifying habit during long rehearsals of dozing off into a soft snore in mid-scene, waking up as it ended and yet knowing if we missed a word or phrase.<br /><br />He is terribly missed, and yet he is deeply remembered. That beloved doyen's legacy for a contemporary Malaysian theatre lives on in the new generation of arts practitioners who now drive The Five Arts Centre forward. Yes, the Indian man continues to speak through many of us. Creepy, right?<br /><br />(1,267 words – 16th May 2006)<br /><br />+++++<br /><br />Krishen Jit was perhaps Malaysia’s most eminent theatre director, and had presented critically acclaimed works on many stages around the world. He died in April 2005. The Five Arts Centre, a performing arts collective he co-founded is currently running a programme, The Krishen Jit Experimental Workshop Series, in commemoration of his life’s work. More information by email from fivearts@tm.net.my<br /><br />Vernon Adrian Emuang is a performer, writer and marketing communications specialist. He is also an arts activist, highly supportive of intercultural, experimental and multigeneric projects.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-479075218887808316.post-36242085602242821082006-07-11T03:29:00.000+08:002007-07-23T01:30:22.177+08:00That Damn 4-Letter WordLove is a feeling. Feelings pass.<br /><br />For love to remain eternal, it needs commitment and sacrifice.<br /><br />Love is a journey where the destination is happiness. Getting there needs a roadmap.<br /><br />The journey may be pleasant, or long and arduous, but it is the journey of trials and tribulations, and where struggling gives it meaning and depth.<br /><br />Arriving there at the destination isn’t as important as how the journey is enjoyed and endured.<br /><br />Love is a banquet which leaves you filled and contented at the end. It is made up of many ingredients, brought together with great effort.<br /><br />The flavours mingle and co-exist, and hitting the right flavours at the right times create beautiful melodies of sensations, and of memories.<br /><br />Love is best endured when there is a sense of duty, like a religion that demands ritual and responsibility.<br /><br />Love is not about you. Love is about the other - the one that you love.<br /><br />And yet to be loved, we must love our own self the most.<br /><br />Because when we do, we are attendent to our inner, most true thoughts and feelings, and we are then able to communicate them in all honesty and without agenda to that person whom we say we love.<br /><br />The purest of all love after all is honesty unclothed. Like a new born before its mother.<br /><br />(For B, and maybe for W - written on 11 July 2006)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-479075218887808316.post-54375957419762606822006-01-04T00:30:00.000+08:002007-07-23T01:07:15.804+08:00The Race ForwardIn Malaysia, the Malays mostly think I'm Chinese, the Chinese mostly think I'm Malay - neither wants to have me as their own. I have also been mistaken for a Chindian. A frequent mistake is that I am Sarawakian Iban.<br /><br />In Australia, I was called both Paki and Nip (Japanese) by Skinheads looking for a fight. My classmates at high-school nicknamed me 'Refo' - short for 'refugee', and accorded with the greatest affection.<br /><br />At university in Australia in the early '80s I had a stranglehold on any coloured part that was up for auditions during my theatre arts course - playing Gautama Buddha, Red Indian Chief, Pakistani schizophrenic, a black sex slave (??), a Chinese cook in the Wild West, and a Russian of Mongol extraction in Fiddler On The Roof. I think these days, most white Australians would be able to tell the Asian races apart.<br /><br />In Dijon, France a beautiful mademoiselle once insisted that I was facially too expressive to be fully Asian. I found that an interesting echo of the inscrutable Oriental.<br /><br />I don't think a mixed-race person is more attractive - just less provocative in that the level of racial specificity is blunted somewhat, and therefore garners greater acceptability across racial lines. Yeah - less provocative: more inclined to 'sameness', and less of 'the other'.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/vernonadrianemuang/SeraniSembang/photo#5090063999455668242"><img src="http://lh4.google.com/vernonadrianemuang/RqOKPTuPKBI/AAAAAAAAAZU/UwqRSMhf2NQ/s400/DevonEurasian-Psych_Today.jpg" /></a><br /><br />If you ask me Devon Aoki looks distinctly Asian against someone like Nicole Kidman. And I believe I do have Catherine Zeta-Jones and Mariah Carey look-a-likes among my millions of Serani cousins.<br /><br />IMHO, when those celebrities who look unmistakeably of their non-Caucasian race, can be accepted and deemed attractive and sexy by others outside their race - I think that's when humanity is really moving forward.<br /><br />And, people - the first Serani's are a result of that cross-cultural/racial acceptance, attraction.and collaboration. :-)<br /><br />Enough of me.<br /><br />(<span style="font-style:italic;">I wrote the above piece in response to a SeraniSembang.Org thread referring to a Psychology Today article entitled MIXED RACE, PRETTY FACE: Why we are drawn to exotic beauty. You can read the article by clicking on the thumbnail.</span>)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0