Thursday, March 11, 2004
An extremely “eventful” day: two things happened.
In the morning some movers came to ship my piano to my grandma’s house. We were about to move to a temporary four-room flat, which didn’t have the luxury of space for my huge instrument.
I stood beside the movers, watching them eagle-eyed, never leaving more than 2 metres from the piano at all times. I didn’t care if they were professional piano movers or ordinary movers who moved lots of pianos before; I just wanted to watch over my beloved.
They wrapped her up, and carried her out into the garden, down the steps, and onto the trolley at the common pathway. My apartment is on the ground floor, with its own garden leading to a common pathway that leads to the other houses. So imagine a terrace house within an apartment building. They had problems going down the small garden steps, and about thrice they had to put her down and lift her again. I feared that they might damage the mechanism, or scratch her underbelly.
It was problematic again, going up onto the lorry. (1) We were on sloped ground. (2) The lorry had to park with its cargo door alongside the grass patch, as a low concrete barrier blocked the pavement. The castors on the piano ran onto the patch so many times that mud and grass were stuck onto it. I grimaced. On the first attempt at lifting her up, they nearly dropped her as they got their balance wrong. On the second attempt, thank goodness, she was heaved safely onto the truck. Then all of us clambered onto the truck to head for my grandma’s, fortunately not very far away.
Grandma’s was easy. The piano was simply unloaded and wheeled on the trolley straight into the living room, where it occupied the spot where my old M108T once stood. She took up more space though, because she was broader, and taller. Furthermore, we had the homemade sound-absorber (of egg crates) placed behind the piano. So she seemed to have taken up more space.
I gave her a test run. Some keys were a little out of tune, but not too seriously discordant. Anyway it was time for another tuning.
* * *
I had just finished lunch when the phone rang. It was Megan.
“August, we’re calling off the musical.”
CALLING OFF THE MUSICAL. I couldn’t believe. I SIMPLY couldn’t believe it.
“Why?”
“Administrative problems. The school’s not being very cooperative, and this is making it difficult for us to rehearse. We can’t put on a good show for everyone.”
I asked her for alternatives. There was none.
I thought I had listened wrongly. Only this morning Meg had called me again and volunteered to be the Funeral Directress for the show, since we couldn’t get any of the male teachers to be the Funeral Director. And we were starting to sell tickets today.
The confirmation: “Can you tell your orchestra? I’m so sorry…”
I hung up, and immediately massed SMS the orchestra and other people who have been anticipating our show the bad news. Some replied back asking about alternatives. Some suggested talking to the principal.
I called Meg again. “They want us to continue with the show.”
But the circumstances forbid us, she said.
-1-
We need a lot more opportunities to go into the auditorium (our performance venue) to rehearse, so that the singers and the orchestra can get used to the acoustics. The singers, in addition, can try out their stage movements on the actual performing platform. Vellachi could easily discuss the technical stuff since we had an actual view of all the equipment.
However, the OM has flatly denied us frequent entry into the auditorium, even though we begged and cajoled him, and offered not to use the air-conditioning, if the school was really bent on cutting down on electricity bills. Still the OM only restricted us to Saturdays only. Weekdays, even if during the March holidays, was a no-no. Saturday is a very dangerous day, for there might unexpectedly crop up some other activity elsewhere which leaves some members of the cast or orchestra unable to attend the rehearsal, so we wouldn’t be able to practice. Furthermore, two rehearsals in our performing venue are insufficient.
You may ask, how do other performance groups make do with just one or two uses of their actual performing venue before their performance? You can’t compare us with them. They are professionals. So far only Eng Tat is the only person in our team who has experience with drama. Even for the orchestra, this is the first time they get to play in a “pit” - even though it’s not really a pit, but they are playing off the stage for the first time. We really need the venue to get really used to it for our performance.
To make things worse, the school is not helping us by granting us more frequent access to a room with a piano within the school for cast rehearsals. Constantly we are forced to practice in the canteen on Wednesdays, or to carry a portable keyboard in on Saturdays and work in some unworldly place, such as under the lecture theatres. We can hardly use the hall and its piano because there would be PDPs using it during our rehearsal times. We can only rehearse on PDP days in the school because that is when we can leave the school late, by following another PDP out when they finish their activities for the day. Otherwise we would have to scram by 8pm on other days.
-2-
The school wants all our profits. Fine, they can have it. But not when they do not make the effort to help us, and instead constantly try to curb our activities. Especially his Ominous Majesty, who made sure we were not going to get the venues for our practice. We’re doing this musical as a favour for the school, to raise funds to help needy students, but the administration (especially the OM) is not helping us with the logistics to enable us to deliver a good show for the charitable purpose. I cannot help but comment on the OM’s behaviour in particular towards our activities. When Megan called him and talked to him nicely on the phone, the man behaved extremely rudely and haughtily and even slammed the phone down on her at the end. Also, our posters were banned from being put up around the school, even though it has been vetted. Why is there discrimination against former students? Are we a threat to the school’s security? Then why have alumni associations? You might as well tell graduating students: “Okay, you’ve finished studying here, now get the hell out and don’t come back here again.” Or he could have easily said, given his disposition: “Fuck off.”
Why are we talking about fostering entrepreneurship and all that shit in school? Here we are trying to do something on our own, and we do not receive support and backing. Instead, we are constantly thrown with obstacles, not from outside but from the inside. I am not bragging, but how many people would come to together and say, “Hey, let’s put up a performance,” and with their enthusiasm pull other people in to share their interests? It’s all NATO: No Action Talk Only. If we’d pull this through they’d probably say, “Oh, these people have the spirit of entrepreneurship, they’re not afraid of difficulties… and they’ve put in this whole performance on their initiative…” Crap. True we are not afraid of difficulties, but if people are deliberately making things difficult for us, how are we not to feel frustrated and let down constantly?
On the bright side, there have been genuinely supportive and helpful people. The teachers, for example. Miss Chew has been unfailingly generous in loaning us the use of the band room, and in dispensing advice over the use of facilities. Miss Kang graciously allowed me to draw members from the Chamber Ensemble. Mr Tan affirmed the loan of some equipment from the Chinese Orchestra. When we talked to Miss Loong about our project, she even volunteered the teachers to help raise funds for us. Mrs Lau and Mrs Lofthouse were looking forward to our show, and responded enthusiastically whenever we mentioned about the musical, and promised to get their literature students to buy tickets to our show. In fact, through word of mouth, the whole staff room soon knew about this project. The photocopy shop’s aunty and uncle, they gave me a discount when I photocopied the scores for the musical at their outlet.
We cannot forget the cast and orchestra, who still joined and supported us even though this project was a high-risk one, and that there could be no great benefits from it. Most of them took time out of their busy schedules to come for practices and rehearsals, and pigged it out until late at night. I am very impressed and grateful to my orchestra for continuing to play despite the presence of Mardi Gras and tests and all that.
And the friends who took an interest in our show and promised to come and watch, thank you for your support! Apologies that the show had to be aborted; we are extremely disappointed too.
But our creation will live. Megan will revise the script; I will revise the score and possibly create some arrangements of the songs for other ensembles to perform. The spirit of “Red-Threaded Hearts” will not die… ¶ 3/11/2004 10:33:00 pm
In the morning some movers came to ship my piano to my grandma’s house. We were about to move to a temporary four-room flat, which didn’t have the luxury of space for my huge instrument.
I stood beside the movers, watching them eagle-eyed, never leaving more than 2 metres from the piano at all times. I didn’t care if they were professional piano movers or ordinary movers who moved lots of pianos before; I just wanted to watch over my beloved.
They wrapped her up, and carried her out into the garden, down the steps, and onto the trolley at the common pathway. My apartment is on the ground floor, with its own garden leading to a common pathway that leads to the other houses. So imagine a terrace house within an apartment building. They had problems going down the small garden steps, and about thrice they had to put her down and lift her again. I feared that they might damage the mechanism, or scratch her underbelly.
It was problematic again, going up onto the lorry. (1) We were on sloped ground. (2) The lorry had to park with its cargo door alongside the grass patch, as a low concrete barrier blocked the pavement. The castors on the piano ran onto the patch so many times that mud and grass were stuck onto it. I grimaced. On the first attempt at lifting her up, they nearly dropped her as they got their balance wrong. On the second attempt, thank goodness, she was heaved safely onto the truck. Then all of us clambered onto the truck to head for my grandma’s, fortunately not very far away.
Grandma’s was easy. The piano was simply unloaded and wheeled on the trolley straight into the living room, where it occupied the spot where my old M108T once stood. She took up more space though, because she was broader, and taller. Furthermore, we had the homemade sound-absorber (of egg crates) placed behind the piano. So she seemed to have taken up more space.
I gave her a test run. Some keys were a little out of tune, but not too seriously discordant. Anyway it was time for another tuning.
* * *
I had just finished lunch when the phone rang. It was Megan.
“August, we’re calling off the musical.”
CALLING OFF THE MUSICAL. I couldn’t believe. I SIMPLY couldn’t believe it.
“Why?”
“Administrative problems. The school’s not being very cooperative, and this is making it difficult for us to rehearse. We can’t put on a good show for everyone.”
I asked her for alternatives. There was none.
I thought I had listened wrongly. Only this morning Meg had called me again and volunteered to be the Funeral Directress for the show, since we couldn’t get any of the male teachers to be the Funeral Director. And we were starting to sell tickets today.
The confirmation: “Can you tell your orchestra? I’m so sorry…”
I hung up, and immediately massed SMS the orchestra and other people who have been anticipating our show the bad news. Some replied back asking about alternatives. Some suggested talking to the principal.
I called Meg again. “They want us to continue with the show.”
But the circumstances forbid us, she said.
-1-
We need a lot more opportunities to go into the auditorium (our performance venue) to rehearse, so that the singers and the orchestra can get used to the acoustics. The singers, in addition, can try out their stage movements on the actual performing platform. Vellachi could easily discuss the technical stuff since we had an actual view of all the equipment.
However, the OM has flatly denied us frequent entry into the auditorium, even though we begged and cajoled him, and offered not to use the air-conditioning, if the school was really bent on cutting down on electricity bills. Still the OM only restricted us to Saturdays only. Weekdays, even if during the March holidays, was a no-no. Saturday is a very dangerous day, for there might unexpectedly crop up some other activity elsewhere which leaves some members of the cast or orchestra unable to attend the rehearsal, so we wouldn’t be able to practice. Furthermore, two rehearsals in our performing venue are insufficient.
You may ask, how do other performance groups make do with just one or two uses of their actual performing venue before their performance? You can’t compare us with them. They are professionals. So far only Eng Tat is the only person in our team who has experience with drama. Even for the orchestra, this is the first time they get to play in a “pit” - even though it’s not really a pit, but they are playing off the stage for the first time. We really need the venue to get really used to it for our performance.
To make things worse, the school is not helping us by granting us more frequent access to a room with a piano within the school for cast rehearsals. Constantly we are forced to practice in the canteen on Wednesdays, or to carry a portable keyboard in on Saturdays and work in some unworldly place, such as under the lecture theatres. We can hardly use the hall and its piano because there would be PDPs using it during our rehearsal times. We can only rehearse on PDP days in the school because that is when we can leave the school late, by following another PDP out when they finish their activities for the day. Otherwise we would have to scram by 8pm on other days.
-2-
The school wants all our profits. Fine, they can have it. But not when they do not make the effort to help us, and instead constantly try to curb our activities. Especially his Ominous Majesty, who made sure we were not going to get the venues for our practice. We’re doing this musical as a favour for the school, to raise funds to help needy students, but the administration (especially the OM) is not helping us with the logistics to enable us to deliver a good show for the charitable purpose. I cannot help but comment on the OM’s behaviour in particular towards our activities. When Megan called him and talked to him nicely on the phone, the man behaved extremely rudely and haughtily and even slammed the phone down on her at the end. Also, our posters were banned from being put up around the school, even though it has been vetted. Why is there discrimination against former students? Are we a threat to the school’s security? Then why have alumni associations? You might as well tell graduating students: “Okay, you’ve finished studying here, now get the hell out and don’t come back here again.” Or he could have easily said, given his disposition: “Fuck off.”
Why are we talking about fostering entrepreneurship and all that shit in school? Here we are trying to do something on our own, and we do not receive support and backing. Instead, we are constantly thrown with obstacles, not from outside but from the inside. I am not bragging, but how many people would come to together and say, “Hey, let’s put up a performance,” and with their enthusiasm pull other people in to share their interests? It’s all NATO: No Action Talk Only. If we’d pull this through they’d probably say, “Oh, these people have the spirit of entrepreneurship, they’re not afraid of difficulties… and they’ve put in this whole performance on their initiative…” Crap. True we are not afraid of difficulties, but if people are deliberately making things difficult for us, how are we not to feel frustrated and let down constantly?
On the bright side, there have been genuinely supportive and helpful people. The teachers, for example. Miss Chew has been unfailingly generous in loaning us the use of the band room, and in dispensing advice over the use of facilities. Miss Kang graciously allowed me to draw members from the Chamber Ensemble. Mr Tan affirmed the loan of some equipment from the Chinese Orchestra. When we talked to Miss Loong about our project, she even volunteered the teachers to help raise funds for us. Mrs Lau and Mrs Lofthouse were looking forward to our show, and responded enthusiastically whenever we mentioned about the musical, and promised to get their literature students to buy tickets to our show. In fact, through word of mouth, the whole staff room soon knew about this project. The photocopy shop’s aunty and uncle, they gave me a discount when I photocopied the scores for the musical at their outlet.
We cannot forget the cast and orchestra, who still joined and supported us even though this project was a high-risk one, and that there could be no great benefits from it. Most of them took time out of their busy schedules to come for practices and rehearsals, and pigged it out until late at night. I am very impressed and grateful to my orchestra for continuing to play despite the presence of Mardi Gras and tests and all that.
And the friends who took an interest in our show and promised to come and watch, thank you for your support! Apologies that the show had to be aborted; we are extremely disappointed too.
But our creation will live. Megan will revise the script; I will revise the score and possibly create some arrangements of the songs for other ensembles to perform. The spirit of “Red-Threaded Hearts” will not die… ¶ 3/11/2004 10:33:00 pm
