Sunday, March 28, 2004
The ARTivities performance kicks off with a crisis in the morning.
Miss Chew messages me that the music stands were forgotten.
We meet up in school so that I can help her carry the stands, and thereafter at Suntec I can help her to carry the easel and the stool, which have been left in her car from the previous day.
The performance area is at the stage close to Marche, flanked by two escalators that lead down to the car park in the basement. The quartet meets in the holding area to rehearse – due to the difficulties of time the members haven’t been able to meet and practice, since two Wednesdays ago.
Shimei (first violin) is not yet here, so the rest of the quartet try to do without her part and just count and play theirs. Some difficulties arise when we come to the section “A Slight Drizzle Begins to Fall”. Yiyuan (cello) seems to be playing the wrong notes.
Here’s the second crisis.
It was discovered that three bars were missing. I thought it strange: who would delete three bars from the part score, which had been directly extracted from the full score?
Further playing reveals that she was reading the OLD version – I see the 5/8 section of “Song of Praise” and straightaway know it is wrong, because in the newer version I deleted that particular time signature.
Die.
Miss Chew and Wei Xuan do damage control: they cut up the cello part from the full score and paste them, strip by strip, onto a sheet of blank paper. Thank goodness the second half of her score is okay.
Sound test. After setting up the quartet, I discover that the stage is actually DAMN small. The quartet takes up almost two-thirds of it, while Wei Xuan and her easel occupy the other one-third. I overestimated the size of the stage, and still thought I would have time to walk about.
Shimei arrives; we go outside Marche to do a proper run-through while Pasir Ris Crest Secondary School begin their performance. Someone suggests that we practice in Marche itself, then people will plonk coins in support for our art. Meanwhile, halfway through I run back to the holding area to get my coat. When I return, the secondary school has finished and the quartet is on stage.
Shit. I haven’t dress myself properly yet. My shirt sleeve and collar are still unbuttoned; I look like a mess. And I haven’t – or rather, didn’t – bother to read through my script or memorise some bits of it.
Heck, I just have to crap.
I put on the microphone – it’s a headset mike with a transmitter to be put into the pocket – and go on stage. To hell with whatever goes wrong. Just talk cock on the stage to everybody and make sure you tell lame jokes to make them laugh. I dash up the stage and greet them heartily.
Thank goodness when I visited Suntec the previous week I saw this magician performing at the Tropics Atrium and so had some idea of how I can appeal to the crowd.
The crapped “script” goes something like this:
“Good afternoon, every one! My name is August and I’m from TJC. I’m here to present to you my music. With me are my friends…
(Gesture to the quartet)
“…Shimei, who plays first violins; Poh Ning, second violins; Shiyun, viola; Yiyuan, cello. And over here…
(Gesture to Wei Xuan)
“…We have Wei Xuan, our talented artist, who will paint pictures of… FLOWERS. Now, why am I talking to you about flowers when I’m here to talk about and perform music? Well, my piece has something to do with flowers. Now, listen to this song and tell me if you find it familiar…”
I unfold my script which I haven’t been using at all, because I’ve copied the lyrics of “Mo Li Hua” onto it. And then I SING… yes, I sing the whole song, unaccompanied… perhaps the karaoke session about a week back trained me up a bit. When I finish, there’s a round of applause. I add jokingly: “So you’ll see me in Singapore Idol next time?”
There’s some laughter. Thank goodness.
“So, do you all know what song is this? Quick, shout out the answer!”
Some people chorus: “Mo Li Hua!”
Thank goodness again. Otherwise it’ll have been embarrassing.
I continue talking cock for like about another five more minutes. Somehow I’m torn between wanting to continue talking on the stage… the applause for my singing seems to have set me going. One of the MOE people said that I got high without alcohol. Indeed I nearly couldn’t stop myself from talking. I touch on how I got inspired, how I wrote the piece and how the programme runs.
Anyway finally I shut up and walk off the stage, and the string quartet begins to play. We’ve only played this piece together for like… 6 or 7 times? They rehearsed on Wednesday, 11 March 2004… and then the piece was never touched until today, outside Marche, when the quartet rehearses it again.
Wei Xuan does a very beautiful painting of 2 jasmine flowers, using the medium of spray paint and brush strokes… all within the span of five minutes! And she does two of these pictures, one for each performance. We are all absolutely impressed by her talent and skill. In fact, MOE wanted one of the paintings to take back to headquarters and display it. It was a glorious moment for her, signing her name and brushing in: “ARTivities 2004” while being filmed.
Lunchtime: we (Shiyun, Yiyuan, Poh Ning, Miss Chew and I) settle on Marche. Miss Chew promises to treat us for our work in this performance; she subsidises five dollars per person. I go for pasta – ever since I started working out at the gym I have been obsessed with gaining carbohydrates, and have been going to Pasta Mania almost after every gym session. Damn, I am wearing white… all the tomato sauce spits onto the shirt, peppering it with a few red marks.
After lunch, we prepare for the final performance. My talk is worse than the first. But at least the audience is still responsive. Bee comes to watch the second performance. Obviously as the pianist premiering the original piano solo version (she helped me record the work for my A levels) she cannot miss it – in fact the two versions are different in many ways. For instance the string quartet does not have the glissando over black keys with a cloth – instead the first violin takes a solo part that is almost reminiscent to those writings for solo Chinese instruments, such as the dizi and erhu. Still she likes the “sighing” part of the piece – the ultra-Impressionistic part.
On the way home I discover that Yiyuan actually lives two blocks away from my new house! So we head home together. When I reach home, my paternal grandmother is here for a visit. In private, I coax her – with a smattering of Cantonese and Chinese – not to follow me to Tekong on enlistment day. It’s not that I don’t want her to be there, but it’s the consequences that follow her presence. My fourth uncle will tag along… then my maternal grandmother, upon hearing her relatives going, will want to go… then there will be a huge big crowd to see me off, which, to me, is pretty embarrassing. It would just be suffice that only my parents go. The last time I went on holiday to Melbourne alone as part of a prize, almost ten people came to see me off, including the maid (when we still employed a maid then). The others only had, at the very most, three or four people – i.e. their immediate family members. It was all very embarrassing for me. Furthermore the elderly tend to fuss over our well-being – sometimes when it’s overdone it can get pretty irritating, because you have to coax them, “I’ll be fine. Really, I can take care of myself.”
An hour later, I meet CBW at the gym. Halfway we go for a soccer game at the field just behind the sports hall. My god, we are playing against CHILDREN. There are KIDS who are in Primary School and we teenagers and adults are playing against THEM. What the hell is this sort of game? I don’t even dare to tackle people, otherwise if those kids fall and hurt themselves I’m going to get into serious trouble. For people of our age nobody gives a shit if we fall and hurt ourselves, but for those little critters… some of them when they hurt themselves they turn into babies.
BW was also extremely pissed with the game. There was too much violence – it was more of rough-and-tackle than a soccer match. One of the critters from the opposing team nearly DELIBERATELY rammed his knees, which could have crippled him. What do those kids know about soccer – in the name of abuse and rough-play? Hell, this is wrestling, not soccer! You want to kill people is it? Also BW comments that the players, even those in our team, are very individualistic. They tend to keep the ball for themselves. After the game he swears that he will not play with them again. ¶ 3/28/2004 05:51:00 pm
Miss Chew messages me that the music stands were forgotten.
We meet up in school so that I can help her carry the stands, and thereafter at Suntec I can help her to carry the easel and the stool, which have been left in her car from the previous day.
The performance area is at the stage close to Marche, flanked by two escalators that lead down to the car park in the basement. The quartet meets in the holding area to rehearse – due to the difficulties of time the members haven’t been able to meet and practice, since two Wednesdays ago.
Shimei (first violin) is not yet here, so the rest of the quartet try to do without her part and just count and play theirs. Some difficulties arise when we come to the section “A Slight Drizzle Begins to Fall”. Yiyuan (cello) seems to be playing the wrong notes.
Here’s the second crisis.
It was discovered that three bars were missing. I thought it strange: who would delete three bars from the part score, which had been directly extracted from the full score?
Further playing reveals that she was reading the OLD version – I see the 5/8 section of “Song of Praise” and straightaway know it is wrong, because in the newer version I deleted that particular time signature.
Die.
Miss Chew and Wei Xuan do damage control: they cut up the cello part from the full score and paste them, strip by strip, onto a sheet of blank paper. Thank goodness the second half of her score is okay.
Sound test. After setting up the quartet, I discover that the stage is actually DAMN small. The quartet takes up almost two-thirds of it, while Wei Xuan and her easel occupy the other one-third. I overestimated the size of the stage, and still thought I would have time to walk about.
Shimei arrives; we go outside Marche to do a proper run-through while Pasir Ris Crest Secondary School begin their performance. Someone suggests that we practice in Marche itself, then people will plonk coins in support for our art. Meanwhile, halfway through I run back to the holding area to get my coat. When I return, the secondary school has finished and the quartet is on stage.
Shit. I haven’t dress myself properly yet. My shirt sleeve and collar are still unbuttoned; I look like a mess. And I haven’t – or rather, didn’t – bother to read through my script or memorise some bits of it.
Heck, I just have to crap.
I put on the microphone – it’s a headset mike with a transmitter to be put into the pocket – and go on stage. To hell with whatever goes wrong. Just talk cock on the stage to everybody and make sure you tell lame jokes to make them laugh. I dash up the stage and greet them heartily.
Thank goodness when I visited Suntec the previous week I saw this magician performing at the Tropics Atrium and so had some idea of how I can appeal to the crowd.
The crapped “script” goes something like this:
“Good afternoon, every one! My name is August and I’m from TJC. I’m here to present to you my music. With me are my friends…
(Gesture to the quartet)
“…Shimei, who plays first violins; Poh Ning, second violins; Shiyun, viola; Yiyuan, cello. And over here…
(Gesture to Wei Xuan)
“…We have Wei Xuan, our talented artist, who will paint pictures of… FLOWERS. Now, why am I talking to you about flowers when I’m here to talk about and perform music? Well, my piece has something to do with flowers. Now, listen to this song and tell me if you find it familiar…”
I unfold my script which I haven’t been using at all, because I’ve copied the lyrics of “Mo Li Hua” onto it. And then I SING… yes, I sing the whole song, unaccompanied… perhaps the karaoke session about a week back trained me up a bit. When I finish, there’s a round of applause. I add jokingly: “So you’ll see me in Singapore Idol next time?”
There’s some laughter. Thank goodness.
“So, do you all know what song is this? Quick, shout out the answer!”
Some people chorus: “Mo Li Hua!”
Thank goodness again. Otherwise it’ll have been embarrassing.
I continue talking cock for like about another five more minutes. Somehow I’m torn between wanting to continue talking on the stage… the applause for my singing seems to have set me going. One of the MOE people said that I got high without alcohol. Indeed I nearly couldn’t stop myself from talking. I touch on how I got inspired, how I wrote the piece and how the programme runs.
Anyway finally I shut up and walk off the stage, and the string quartet begins to play. We’ve only played this piece together for like… 6 or 7 times? They rehearsed on Wednesday, 11 March 2004… and then the piece was never touched until today, outside Marche, when the quartet rehearses it again.
Wei Xuan does a very beautiful painting of 2 jasmine flowers, using the medium of spray paint and brush strokes… all within the span of five minutes! And she does two of these pictures, one for each performance. We are all absolutely impressed by her talent and skill. In fact, MOE wanted one of the paintings to take back to headquarters and display it. It was a glorious moment for her, signing her name and brushing in: “ARTivities 2004” while being filmed.
Lunchtime: we (Shiyun, Yiyuan, Poh Ning, Miss Chew and I) settle on Marche. Miss Chew promises to treat us for our work in this performance; she subsidises five dollars per person. I go for pasta – ever since I started working out at the gym I have been obsessed with gaining carbohydrates, and have been going to Pasta Mania almost after every gym session. Damn, I am wearing white… all the tomato sauce spits onto the shirt, peppering it with a few red marks.
After lunch, we prepare for the final performance. My talk is worse than the first. But at least the audience is still responsive. Bee comes to watch the second performance. Obviously as the pianist premiering the original piano solo version (she helped me record the work for my A levels) she cannot miss it – in fact the two versions are different in many ways. For instance the string quartet does not have the glissando over black keys with a cloth – instead the first violin takes a solo part that is almost reminiscent to those writings for solo Chinese instruments, such as the dizi and erhu. Still she likes the “sighing” part of the piece – the ultra-Impressionistic part.
On the way home I discover that Yiyuan actually lives two blocks away from my new house! So we head home together. When I reach home, my paternal grandmother is here for a visit. In private, I coax her – with a smattering of Cantonese and Chinese – not to follow me to Tekong on enlistment day. It’s not that I don’t want her to be there, but it’s the consequences that follow her presence. My fourth uncle will tag along… then my maternal grandmother, upon hearing her relatives going, will want to go… then there will be a huge big crowd to see me off, which, to me, is pretty embarrassing. It would just be suffice that only my parents go. The last time I went on holiday to Melbourne alone as part of a prize, almost ten people came to see me off, including the maid (when we still employed a maid then). The others only had, at the very most, three or four people – i.e. their immediate family members. It was all very embarrassing for me. Furthermore the elderly tend to fuss over our well-being – sometimes when it’s overdone it can get pretty irritating, because you have to coax them, “I’ll be fine. Really, I can take care of myself.”
An hour later, I meet CBW at the gym. Halfway we go for a soccer game at the field just behind the sports hall. My god, we are playing against CHILDREN. There are KIDS who are in Primary School and we teenagers and adults are playing against THEM. What the hell is this sort of game? I don’t even dare to tackle people, otherwise if those kids fall and hurt themselves I’m going to get into serious trouble. For people of our age nobody gives a shit if we fall and hurt ourselves, but for those little critters… some of them when they hurt themselves they turn into babies.
BW was also extremely pissed with the game. There was too much violence – it was more of rough-and-tackle than a soccer match. One of the critters from the opposing team nearly DELIBERATELY rammed his knees, which could have crippled him. What do those kids know about soccer – in the name of abuse and rough-play? Hell, this is wrestling, not soccer! You want to kill people is it? Also BW comments that the players, even those in our team, are very individualistic. They tend to keep the ball for themselves. After the game he swears that he will not play with them again. ¶ 3/28/2004 05:51:00 pm
