Sinfonia da Vita, Op. 1
Thursday, March 31, 2005
The cool-looking brochure from the Singapore-Japan Composer's Concert
Posted by Hello ¶ 3/31/2005 11:26:00 pm 0 comments
--- I ---
First year soldier.
"On this date I handed in my Pink IC
See it well; won't get it till ORD
It's surrender of my civilian life
And now I start a new life as a slave to drum and fife."
--- To the tune of "On My Own" from Les Miserables.
--- II ---
On the train to City Hall I declare to myself: I am going on a sabbatical from composing and arranging music.
This morning, I lose my groove to write. In fact I've lost the feeling for the past two weeks already. I tend to write halfway, only to realise that what has been input sucks to the core. I attempt another version of it. Again, I give up halfway. I have no impetus to continue.
Perhaps I'm burnt out.
In case you are wondering this means giving up music, throw that thought away. The spirit of music will always be there.
--- III ---
Marina Square has been renovated so much that Loh Wei and I get lost inside the mall.
Suddenly, there are so many atriums. There used to be one main atrium, and you can spot it by looking for the translucent and cylindrical lift columns. Now they seem to have disappeared.
The Hans Café has been moved all the way towards the end of the mall, near the Oriental Hotel. Anyway now it has a chic setting - a better ambience than the outlet facing One Raffles Link.
At least this time the dessert is a generous serving of Swiss Roll. The worst and suckiest and not-your-worth dessert was a bar of Kit Kat for each person.
Please, I don't pay money for a set meal to come and eat Kit Kat bars.
--- IV ---
Is it me absent-minded or did my vision is blurred?
I am at the ground floor of One Raffles Link; I am about to board the escalators going down to the basement mall, just beside the great water wheel. There are three rows of escalators - if I can remember clearly, two of them are heading upwards.
I make my way to the one in the middle, because it is empty. Everyone seems to want to ride the down-going escalator at the corner. I think: why so stupid to squeeze with other people?
So I step onto my choice of escalator . . . to my horror I am going backwards. It takes me some time to realise that I am on an up-going escalator! I hop off the moving steps onto the landing because I get myself in further damage.
Damn scary.
I have no idea how I ever thought that escalator was a descending one . . . when I first approach it, I see it's descending. I think nothing of it . . . only when I step onto the machine itself do I discover my mistake.
--- V ---
Mr Leong invites me to a concert of contemporary music by living Singapore and Japanese composers. It is an exchange programme - a mutual showcase of works by people living in different countries.
I meet Jun Kai at the concert - he's back from London for a month's vacation. Emily is there with Miss Chew and Jie Bao; to my surprise I spot Sergeant Sheng Ming and his girlfriend. There's also Emerick, who was at the Young Composers' Forum in September last year.
The most interesting combination of instruments has got to be from the pieces of Motoki Takeda and Michiharu Matsunaga. The first one uses bassoon, viola, cello and harp. Each stand out from the other - throughout the performance I feel that the bassoon penetrates the most.
I think Matsunaga is trying to imitate the sounds of traditional Japanese music in his piece. The wailing sho is brought out by putting the clarinet and oboe together and making them play at a high pitch. The harp could possibly imitate the koto, although its tone is much rounder. I don't know what the cello represents. Anyway I can't understand what the composer is trying to bring forth in this piece.
There is one point where the scraping of a page of the score against the metal stand is damn loud during a pause in the last movement of Phoon Yew Tien's String Quartet, such that Miss Ku, the violist, looked up in shock at the second violinist who did it.
In Kentaro Shimizu's work, the higher range of the vibraphone works well with the same range on the violin. It's such a happy, bright sound - the warbling of the vibraphone, especially.
--- VI ---
On the train home, Jun Kai tells me: the next time I ride the MRT after booking out from camp, I ought to close my eyes and listen to the sounds on the train. Peel it layer by layer like an onion, filtering the noise from the human invaders, until I get to the gentle roar of the air-conditioning.
This is real music. Music of the spheres. All that we've listened to on the radios, at concerts, on Discmans and MP3 players - they are all artificially-produced music. Pitches created for remembrance's sake. You can't possibly "notate" natural sounds, can't you? Perhaps monotones like the hums of engines can be taken down. On the bumboat ride to Ubin last week, I tried to figure out at what pitch the motor was emanating, but I couldn't. There was a mass of sounds - and the sounds didn't correspond to the pitches that we know.
Go and read the chapter of "Equal Temperament" in Howard Goodall's "Big Bangs in Music". The concept sounds cheem at first, but when you read and re-read it, you'll come to appreciate the topic and you will stun yourself: "Why didn't I realise or notice that before?"
--- VII ---
To my dismay I discover my CCHMS friendship band has gone missing.
It has been with me since 2002, when I went back for the 64th anniversary carnival. I thought the colours - red and white - represented those of CCHMS - obvious from the polo-T-shirts we wear for PE and the inverted-triangle school badge.
When I got my stationary pouch I attached the band to the hook, and it has been there ever since.
Until today.
It detached itself from the hook and dropped off. Where, I don't know. I've been to so many places: the MRT stations, CityLink Mall, the Esplanade Library, Marina Square, Suntec City, Raffles City, Victoria Concert Hall . . . I really don't know.
Wednesday, March 30, 2005
The article... I've typed it for the benefit of others to read...
Posted by Hello ¶ 3/30/2005 11:56:00 pm 0 comments
Second page of the article. Ignore the advertisement there, please... I don't want to be accused of soliciting business for others...
Posted by Hello ¶ 3/30/2005 11:54:00 pm 0 comments
Tuesday, March 29, 2005
Things that got me stumped for quite a few hours . . . and quite a few distances . . .
This guy went around the world in eighty days.
He went to Australia, then the Russia. Next he proceeded on to Osaka, Uruguay, the Netherlands, and the Dominican Republic. From there, he went to Ireland. What's the next place on his itinerary?
* * *
How many times did the sheep jump over the fence?
* * *
Listen carefully: Aunty Lisa killed the dog yesterday. Did Aunty Lisa kill the dog yesterday?
Yes.
Aunty Lisa killed the cat yesterday. Did Aunty Lisa kill the cat yesterday?
No.
Aunty Lisa committed suicide yesterday. Did Aunty Lisa commit suicide yesterday?
No.
Aunty Lisa bought a bag of peanuts yesterday. Did Aunty Lisa buy a bag of peanuts yesterday?
No.
Listen carefully: Aunty Lisa went to the station yesterday. Did Aunty Lisa go to the station yesterday?
Yes.
Listen carefully: Aunty Lisa lost her purse yesterday. Did Aunty Lisa lose her purse yesterday?
Yes or no?
* * *
Coffee yes but tea no
Apple yes but orange no
Company no but platoon yes
Train no and bus no
Book yes and boss yes
Food yes but drinks no
TASK: What's the MISSING LINK???
¶ 3/29/2005 10:43:00 pm 0 comments
This guy went around the world in eighty days.
He went to Australia, then the Russia. Next he proceeded on to Osaka, Uruguay, the Netherlands, and the Dominican Republic. From there, he went to Ireland. What's the next place on his itinerary?
* * *
How many times did the sheep jump over the fence?
* * *
Listen carefully: Aunty Lisa killed the dog yesterday. Did Aunty Lisa kill the dog yesterday?
Yes.
Aunty Lisa killed the cat yesterday. Did Aunty Lisa kill the cat yesterday?
No.
Aunty Lisa committed suicide yesterday. Did Aunty Lisa commit suicide yesterday?
No.
Aunty Lisa bought a bag of peanuts yesterday. Did Aunty Lisa buy a bag of peanuts yesterday?
No.
Listen carefully: Aunty Lisa went to the station yesterday. Did Aunty Lisa go to the station yesterday?
Yes.
Listen carefully: Aunty Lisa lost her purse yesterday. Did Aunty Lisa lose her purse yesterday?
Yes or no?
* * *
Coffee yes but tea no
Apple yes but orange no
Company no but platoon yes
Train no and bus no
Book yes and boss yes
Food yes but drinks no
TASK: What's the MISSING LINK???
Sunday, March 27, 2005
I borrow this terrific book from the library: [Nicolas] Slonimsky's Book of Musical Anecdotes. I quote some of the entries here for your pleasure.
* * *
BISEXUAL ORGANIST
The Music Committee for London schools advertised for "a candidate as organist and music teacher." One of the replies came in the following letter:
"Gentlemen, I noticed your advertisement for an organist and music teacher, either lady or gentleman. Having been both for several years, I offer you my services."
* * *
THE REVERSE OF THE OPPOSITE
Among orchestral musicians notorious for their reverse English, a certain radio conductor occupies a special niche of honour. Here are some of his more brilliant malapropisms:
"If you don't know what I'm talking about, write it down."
"Take a pencil and put a cross around it."
"If I would tell you the truth, I would be a hypocrite."
"Play as I tell you and everything will be topsy-turvy."
"You are playing the reverse of the opposite."
When at a rehearsal he could not get the right tempo, he finally proposed to the orchestra: "I know what! I will conduct a little slower, you play a little faster, and we'll hit it exactly right."
And once he announced to the players that he felt so nervous "they had to give me an epidemic in the arm."
* * *
THE OBSTREPEROUS HARMONIUM
In a small church at a little village near Brighton where the congregation could not afford to pay an organist, they recently bought a self-acting organ, a compact instrument well-suited to the purpose and constructed to play forty different tunes. The sexton had instructions how to set it going and how to stop it; but unfortunately he forgot the latter part of his business. After singing the first four verses of a hymn before a sermon, the organ could not be stopped, and it continued playing two verses more. Then just as the clergyman completed the words, "Let us pray", the organ clicked and started a fresh tune. The minister sat it out patiently. When he renewed his introductory words, "Let us pray", the organ went off again and started another tune. The sexton and others continued their exertions to find the spring, but no man could put a stop to it. They got four of the stoutest men in the church to shoulder the perverse instrument, and they carried it out down the centre aisle of the church, playing away, into the churchyard where it continued clicking and playing until the entire forty tunes were finished.
* * *
MUSICAL CRITICISM - PLEASANT AND UNPLEASANT
Some pointed reviews that are as definite as they are brief:
"Mr X conducted Brahms' First Symphony. Brahms lost."
"Miss Y gave a song recital last night. Why?"
"The orchestra men can play Tchaikovsky's Fifth Symphony in their sleep, and very often do."
There was a review by Irving Kolodin which noted that Korngold's Violin Concerto had more corn than gold; and there was a remark of an anonymous critic that a performance of Chopin's Minute Waltz gave the listeners a bad quarter of an hour.
When a baker, who was also an amateur musician, published a song, a waggish music critic described it as a "yeaster-hymn; it begins with 'dough', rises rapidly, but soon falls flat."
Eugene d'Albert, asked to give his opinion of a new piano concerto by a mediocre German composer, Max Vogrich, examined the manuscript carefully and returned it with this comment: "The ink and paper are excellent."
Some pointed reviews are more brief than definite:
Reviewing a Paderewski concert, a music critic waxed enthusiastic about Paderewski's pedalling. "At the hands of Paderewski," he wrote, "the pedal becomes a thing of singular beauty."
Often a misprint combined with a dubious metaphor results in a comic image. A Boston critic opined that Josef Hofmann was a pianist of but a single facet. His review came out this way in print: "Hofmann is an artist of but a single faucet, but what a faucet!"
One critic noted that a certain musician was blowing "his horn with his tongue in his cheek" - an extraordinary trick for any brass player to perform.
The pianist Rosenthal once looked over the manuscript of a piano concerto which had been submitted to him by a friend and displayed great agitation. "It is extraordinary," he kept repeating. "Just imagine! The whole first movement hasn't a single solitary theme in it. Nobody has ever achieved so much sound with so little essence!"
* * *
RIMSKY, ARRANGED BY KORSAKOV
An apprentice radio announcer in charge of broadcasting recorded music announced a Stokowski arrangement of Bach's Toccata as composed by Mr Bach Stokowski. The music supervisor of the station explained to him that when there are double names, the first is the composer and the second the arranger. The next time when Rimsky-Korsakov's "Flight of the Bumblebee" was broadcast, the announcer introduced it as a piece by Rimsky, arranged by Korsakov.
* * *
HALF AN OCTAVE DOWN
Studio engineers at radio stations are notoriously lacking in musical knowledge. During a rehearsal of a string ensemble, the radio engineer told the conductor that the violins sounded too high for good transmission.
"Okay," said the conductor, "I'll have them play an octave lower."
"Half an octave will be enough," replied the engineer.
* * *
MUSICAL DEFINITIONS
The following are actual quotations from school papers:
"Wagner was born in the year 1813, supposedly on his birthday."
"Mandolins are high officials in China."
"The correct way to find the key to a piece of music is to use a pitch fork."
"A sound vibration can only be heard when it makes a noise."
"There are many Russian composers who are radically different, only I can't spell their names."
"Sibelius is a nationalist. He is Polish through and through."
"Beethoven's wife and children were always quarrelling, and made him all the deafer."
"Libretto was an Italian who wrote 'Tannhauser'."
"An interval in music is the distance from one piano to the next."
"Syncopation is emphasis on a note that is not in the piece."
"Contralto is a low sort of music that only ladies sing."
"Vibrations are osculation to and fro."
"In conducting, only the down beat should be struck downward."
"Beethoven wrote three symphonies: the First, the Fifth and the Ninth."
"Bach was the master of the fudge, also the feud."
"A bassoon in one-eight Negro."
"Robinson Caruso was a great singer who lived on an island."
"An oboe is a sort of transient or tramp."
"The best cello players are those with bow legs."
"Folk music is coloured people singing what they thought about their parents."
* * *
WHAT'S IN A NAME?
The following programme would certainly puzzle the most authoritative musicologist:
Overture to "Rienzi" . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Cartwright
Les Preludes . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Flour
Invitation to the Dance . . . . . . . . . . . . . Weaver
Scherzo . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Son-of-Mendel
Largo . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Trade
Air on the G String . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Stream
Blue Danube Waltz . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Ostrich
Die Moldau . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Sour Milk
Egmont Overture . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Beet Gardens
Such billing would ensue if the conductor would translate not only the titles of the pieces by the names of the composers.
Wagner would become Wagoner, or Cartwright.
Liszt means flour in Hungarian.
Weber is Weaver.
Mendelssohn is Mendel's son - hence the double S in the name.
Händel in German is the plural of the word Handel which means trade or business.
Bach is Stream (German writers speak of Bach as the fountainhead of the mighty stream of music).
Strauss means either ostrich or a bouquet of flowers.
Smetana is sour milk.
As to Beethoven, whose grandfather was born in Holland, the Beet in the name is identical with the English word Beet, and Hoven is the plural of the Dutch word for garden, similar to the German word Hof. Beethoven, consequently, is Beet Gardens. A conscientious biographer ought to investigate whether Beethoven liked beet soup, and whether he ever cultivated a beet patch.
* * *
POLYTONAL MUSIC LORE
George Bernard Shaw is critical of the piano as a musical instrument. As long ago as 1894, he wrote in the Fortnightly Review that "time will come when we shall regard the piano as an execrable, jangling, banging, mistuned nuisance."
The celebrated Cardinal Newman cared little for music. In his treatise, The Idea of a University, he opined: "Stuffing birds or playing stringed instruments is an elegant pastime, and a resource to the idle, but it is not education."
Jerome Kern declared in an interview that he got his best melodies from bird calls during his stay at the Austin Ornithological Research Station. The most melodic bird in his estimation is Melospiza Melodia.
The following advertisement appeared in the Fremont, Ohio, News-Messenger in 1947: "Help wanted: Base vile player to play with small orchestra."
Wagner did not like the saxophone. He said it "sounds like the word Reckankreuzungsklankewerkzeuge."
Mascagni, who was sceptical about the average intelligence of a tenor, used to say that there are three degrees of comparison in the Italian language: Stupido, Stupidissimo and Tenore.
"Brahms - what a pianist! One of ten thumbs!" - Philip Hale.
"Hell is full of musical amateurs. Music is the brandy of the damned." - George Bernard Shaw.
"I love Wagner, but the music I prefer is that of a cat hung up by its tail outside of a window, and trying to stick to the panes of glass with its claws. There is an odd grating on the glass which I find at the same time strange, irritating and singularly harmonious." - Baudelaire.
"A true music lover is one who on hearing a blonde soprano singing in the bathtub puts his ear to the keyhole." - Anon.
"The opera house is an institution differing from other lunatic asylums only in the fact that its inmates have avoided official certification." - Ernest Newman.
"Jazz will endure as long as people hear it through their feet instead of their brains." - John Philip Sousa.
"Music is neither secular nor religious. It can at best suggest the beating of the pulse, the rhythm of the blood that accompanies a given order of ideas." - Henry Noel Brailsford.
"Listen to music religiously as if it were the last strain you might hear." - Henry David Thoreau.
"Music is the only divine art we are promised in heaven, and it is certainly the only divine art with which we are tortured on earth." - Mrs John Lane.
"Music is a kind of counting performed by the mind without knowing that it is counting." - GW Leibniz.
"Music helps not the toothache" - George Herbert.
"Music softens, and often rubs out, the cares of the day." - William Feather.
"If one hears bad music, it is one's duty to drown it in conversation." - Oscar Wilde.
"What classic opera needs to succeed in the United States is a hero who can tell the heroine "I love you" in less than twenty minutes." - Alexander Smallens.
"Beware of the person who says he never goes to concerts because the people, the hall, et cetera; prevent him from enjoying the music: he is first cousin to the numerous family of those who 'have no time for reading', the truth being that music bores him - though he dares not say so." - Edward Sackville-West.
"The musician who invented ought to." - O.O. McIntyre
"Musick and women I cannot but give way to, whatever my business is." - Samuel Pepys.
"An old millionaire had waited a long time for his daughters to get ready for a concert. Finally, he shouted upstairs: 'What a time you girls take! Look at me - a bit of cotton in each ear, and I'm ready.'" - David Bispham.
"Music is essentially useless, as life is." - George Santayana.
"What I love best about music are the women who listen to it." - Jules de Goncourt.
"Nothing is capable of being well set to music is not nonsense." - Joseph Addison.
"Of bestial howling and entirely frantic vomiting up of hopelessly damned souls through their still carnal throats, I have heard more than, please God, I will ever endure the hearing of again in one of His summers." - Ruskin (upon hearing a secular cantata)
"Chloroform, they say, will raise the voice and increase the volume of it. The hearer should take it with the singer." - Philip Hale.
"Nothing is wrong when done to music." - Jerome Kern.
"The different between a good and bad conductor is that one has the score in his head, and the other has his head in the score." - F. H. Cowen (often misattributed to Hans von Bulow)
"When I was young, I was only the son of Moses Mendelssohn the philosopher, and now that I am old, I am only the father of Felix Mendelssohn." - Abraham Mendelssohn.
"Music is the only noise for which one is obliged to pay." - Attributed to Dumas
"I know only two tunes: one if Yankee Doodle, and other isn't." - U. S. Grant
"Discords make the sweet airs." - George Gershwin.
"Music critics are the Tin Ear Brigade." - Jerome Kern
"A love song is just a caress set to music." - Sigmund Romberg
"Nightingales sing badly." - Jean Cocteau
"The skin of all of us is responsive to gypsy songs and military marches." - Jean Cocteau
"The ear disapproves but tolerates certain musical pieces; transfer them into the domain of our nose, and we will be forced to flee." - Jean Cocteau
"This birdman, this scarecrow - it's the conductor." - Jean Cocteau
"What is folklore? I am folklore." - Villa-Lobos.
"A singer is somebody who insists on giving Silent Night at the top of his voice." - Boston Globe (December 20, 1947)
¶ 3/27/2005 11:31:00 pm 0 comments
* * *
BISEXUAL ORGANIST
The Music Committee for London schools advertised for "a candidate as organist and music teacher." One of the replies came in the following letter:
"Gentlemen, I noticed your advertisement for an organist and music teacher, either lady or gentleman. Having been both for several years, I offer you my services."
* * *
THE REVERSE OF THE OPPOSITE
Among orchestral musicians notorious for their reverse English, a certain radio conductor occupies a special niche of honour. Here are some of his more brilliant malapropisms:
"If you don't know what I'm talking about, write it down."
"Take a pencil and put a cross around it."
"If I would tell you the truth, I would be a hypocrite."
"Play as I tell you and everything will be topsy-turvy."
"You are playing the reverse of the opposite."
When at a rehearsal he could not get the right tempo, he finally proposed to the orchestra: "I know what! I will conduct a little slower, you play a little faster, and we'll hit it exactly right."
And once he announced to the players that he felt so nervous "they had to give me an epidemic in the arm."
* * *
THE OBSTREPEROUS HARMONIUM
In a small church at a little village near Brighton where the congregation could not afford to pay an organist, they recently bought a self-acting organ, a compact instrument well-suited to the purpose and constructed to play forty different tunes. The sexton had instructions how to set it going and how to stop it; but unfortunately he forgot the latter part of his business. After singing the first four verses of a hymn before a sermon, the organ could not be stopped, and it continued playing two verses more. Then just as the clergyman completed the words, "Let us pray", the organ clicked and started a fresh tune. The minister sat it out patiently. When he renewed his introductory words, "Let us pray", the organ went off again and started another tune. The sexton and others continued their exertions to find the spring, but no man could put a stop to it. They got four of the stoutest men in the church to shoulder the perverse instrument, and they carried it out down the centre aisle of the church, playing away, into the churchyard where it continued clicking and playing until the entire forty tunes were finished.
* * *
MUSICAL CRITICISM - PLEASANT AND UNPLEASANT
Some pointed reviews that are as definite as they are brief:
"Mr X conducted Brahms' First Symphony. Brahms lost."
"Miss Y gave a song recital last night. Why?"
"The orchestra men can play Tchaikovsky's Fifth Symphony in their sleep, and very often do."
There was a review by Irving Kolodin which noted that Korngold's Violin Concerto had more corn than gold; and there was a remark of an anonymous critic that a performance of Chopin's Minute Waltz gave the listeners a bad quarter of an hour.
When a baker, who was also an amateur musician, published a song, a waggish music critic described it as a "yeaster-hymn; it begins with 'dough', rises rapidly, but soon falls flat."
Eugene d'Albert, asked to give his opinion of a new piano concerto by a mediocre German composer, Max Vogrich, examined the manuscript carefully and returned it with this comment: "The ink and paper are excellent."
Some pointed reviews are more brief than definite:
Reviewing a Paderewski concert, a music critic waxed enthusiastic about Paderewski's pedalling. "At the hands of Paderewski," he wrote, "the pedal becomes a thing of singular beauty."
Often a misprint combined with a dubious metaphor results in a comic image. A Boston critic opined that Josef Hofmann was a pianist of but a single facet. His review came out this way in print: "Hofmann is an artist of but a single faucet, but what a faucet!"
One critic noted that a certain musician was blowing "his horn with his tongue in his cheek" - an extraordinary trick for any brass player to perform.
The pianist Rosenthal once looked over the manuscript of a piano concerto which had been submitted to him by a friend and displayed great agitation. "It is extraordinary," he kept repeating. "Just imagine! The whole first movement hasn't a single solitary theme in it. Nobody has ever achieved so much sound with so little essence!"
* * *
RIMSKY, ARRANGED BY KORSAKOV
An apprentice radio announcer in charge of broadcasting recorded music announced a Stokowski arrangement of Bach's Toccata as composed by Mr Bach Stokowski. The music supervisor of the station explained to him that when there are double names, the first is the composer and the second the arranger. The next time when Rimsky-Korsakov's "Flight of the Bumblebee" was broadcast, the announcer introduced it as a piece by Rimsky, arranged by Korsakov.
* * *
HALF AN OCTAVE DOWN
Studio engineers at radio stations are notoriously lacking in musical knowledge. During a rehearsal of a string ensemble, the radio engineer told the conductor that the violins sounded too high for good transmission.
"Okay," said the conductor, "I'll have them play an octave lower."
"Half an octave will be enough," replied the engineer.
* * *
MUSICAL DEFINITIONS
The following are actual quotations from school papers:
"Wagner was born in the year 1813, supposedly on his birthday."
"Mandolins are high officials in China."
"The correct way to find the key to a piece of music is to use a pitch fork."
"A sound vibration can only be heard when it makes a noise."
"There are many Russian composers who are radically different, only I can't spell their names."
"Sibelius is a nationalist. He is Polish through and through."
"Beethoven's wife and children were always quarrelling, and made him all the deafer."
"Libretto was an Italian who wrote 'Tannhauser'."
"An interval in music is the distance from one piano to the next."
"Syncopation is emphasis on a note that is not in the piece."
"Contralto is a low sort of music that only ladies sing."
"Vibrations are osculation to and fro."
"In conducting, only the down beat should be struck downward."
"Beethoven wrote three symphonies: the First, the Fifth and the Ninth."
"Bach was the master of the fudge, also the feud."
"A bassoon in one-eight Negro."
"Robinson Caruso was a great singer who lived on an island."
"An oboe is a sort of transient or tramp."
"The best cello players are those with bow legs."
"Folk music is coloured people singing what they thought about their parents."
* * *
WHAT'S IN A NAME?
The following programme would certainly puzzle the most authoritative musicologist:
Overture to "Rienzi" . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Cartwright
Les Preludes . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Flour
Invitation to the Dance . . . . . . . . . . . . . Weaver
Scherzo . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Son-of-Mendel
Largo . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Trade
Air on the G String . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Stream
Blue Danube Waltz . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Ostrich
Die Moldau . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Sour Milk
Egmont Overture . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Beet Gardens
Such billing would ensue if the conductor would translate not only the titles of the pieces by the names of the composers.
Wagner would become Wagoner, or Cartwright.
Liszt means flour in Hungarian.
Weber is Weaver.
Mendelssohn is Mendel's son - hence the double S in the name.
Händel in German is the plural of the word Handel which means trade or business.
Bach is Stream (German writers speak of Bach as the fountainhead of the mighty stream of music).
Strauss means either ostrich or a bouquet of flowers.
Smetana is sour milk.
As to Beethoven, whose grandfather was born in Holland, the Beet in the name is identical with the English word Beet, and Hoven is the plural of the Dutch word for garden, similar to the German word Hof. Beethoven, consequently, is Beet Gardens. A conscientious biographer ought to investigate whether Beethoven liked beet soup, and whether he ever cultivated a beet patch.
* * *
POLYTONAL MUSIC LORE
George Bernard Shaw is critical of the piano as a musical instrument. As long ago as 1894, he wrote in the Fortnightly Review that "time will come when we shall regard the piano as an execrable, jangling, banging, mistuned nuisance."
The celebrated Cardinal Newman cared little for music. In his treatise, The Idea of a University, he opined: "Stuffing birds or playing stringed instruments is an elegant pastime, and a resource to the idle, but it is not education."
Jerome Kern declared in an interview that he got his best melodies from bird calls during his stay at the Austin Ornithological Research Station. The most melodic bird in his estimation is Melospiza Melodia.
The following advertisement appeared in the Fremont, Ohio, News-Messenger in 1947: "Help wanted: Base vile player to play with small orchestra."
Wagner did not like the saxophone. He said it "sounds like the word Reckankreuzungsklankewerkzeuge."
Mascagni, who was sceptical about the average intelligence of a tenor, used to say that there are three degrees of comparison in the Italian language: Stupido, Stupidissimo and Tenore.
"Brahms - what a pianist! One of ten thumbs!" - Philip Hale.
"Hell is full of musical amateurs. Music is the brandy of the damned." - George Bernard Shaw.
"I love Wagner, but the music I prefer is that of a cat hung up by its tail outside of a window, and trying to stick to the panes of glass with its claws. There is an odd grating on the glass which I find at the same time strange, irritating and singularly harmonious." - Baudelaire.
"A true music lover is one who on hearing a blonde soprano singing in the bathtub puts his ear to the keyhole." - Anon.
"The opera house is an institution differing from other lunatic asylums only in the fact that its inmates have avoided official certification." - Ernest Newman.
"Jazz will endure as long as people hear it through their feet instead of their brains." - John Philip Sousa.
"Music is neither secular nor religious. It can at best suggest the beating of the pulse, the rhythm of the blood that accompanies a given order of ideas." - Henry Noel Brailsford.
"Listen to music religiously as if it were the last strain you might hear." - Henry David Thoreau.
"Music is the only divine art we are promised in heaven, and it is certainly the only divine art with which we are tortured on earth." - Mrs John Lane.
"Music is a kind of counting performed by the mind without knowing that it is counting." - GW Leibniz.
"Music helps not the toothache" - George Herbert.
"Music softens, and often rubs out, the cares of the day." - William Feather.
"If one hears bad music, it is one's duty to drown it in conversation." - Oscar Wilde.
"What classic opera needs to succeed in the United States is a hero who can tell the heroine "I love you" in less than twenty minutes." - Alexander Smallens.
"Beware of the person who says he never goes to concerts because the people, the hall, et cetera; prevent him from enjoying the music: he is first cousin to the numerous family of those who 'have no time for reading', the truth being that music bores him - though he dares not say so." - Edward Sackville-West.
"The musician who invented ought to." - O.O. McIntyre
"Musick and women I cannot but give way to, whatever my business is." - Samuel Pepys.
"An old millionaire had waited a long time for his daughters to get ready for a concert. Finally, he shouted upstairs: 'What a time you girls take! Look at me - a bit of cotton in each ear, and I'm ready.'" - David Bispham.
"Music is essentially useless, as life is." - George Santayana.
"What I love best about music are the women who listen to it." - Jules de Goncourt.
"Nothing is capable of being well set to music is not nonsense." - Joseph Addison.
"Of bestial howling and entirely frantic vomiting up of hopelessly damned souls through their still carnal throats, I have heard more than, please God, I will ever endure the hearing of again in one of His summers." - Ruskin (upon hearing a secular cantata)
"Chloroform, they say, will raise the voice and increase the volume of it. The hearer should take it with the singer." - Philip Hale.
"Nothing is wrong when done to music." - Jerome Kern.
"The different between a good and bad conductor is that one has the score in his head, and the other has his head in the score." - F. H. Cowen (often misattributed to Hans von Bulow)
"When I was young, I was only the son of Moses Mendelssohn the philosopher, and now that I am old, I am only the father of Felix Mendelssohn." - Abraham Mendelssohn.
"Music is the only noise for which one is obliged to pay." - Attributed to Dumas
"I know only two tunes: one if Yankee Doodle, and other isn't." - U. S. Grant
"Discords make the sweet airs." - George Gershwin.
"Music critics are the Tin Ear Brigade." - Jerome Kern
"A love song is just a caress set to music." - Sigmund Romberg
"Nightingales sing badly." - Jean Cocteau
"The skin of all of us is responsive to gypsy songs and military marches." - Jean Cocteau
"The ear disapproves but tolerates certain musical pieces; transfer them into the domain of our nose, and we will be forced to flee." - Jean Cocteau
"This birdman, this scarecrow - it's the conductor." - Jean Cocteau
"What is folklore? I am folklore." - Villa-Lobos.
"A singer is somebody who insists on giving Silent Night at the top of his voice." - Boston Globe (December 20, 1947)
I was sifting through my old photos when I discovered this... a picture taken at the Keramat on Fort Canning... can anybody tell what's the mysterious white figure on the bottom right-side of the photo?
Posted by Hello ¶ 3/27/2005 12:54:00 pm 0 comments
TEN random things/people that relate to you:
1. Music
2. Shostakovich
3. The English Language
4. Singlish
5. Workaholism
6. Musical Theatre
7. Composition
8. Piano
9. Sibelius Version 2.0
10. Music scores
NINE places you've visited:
1. Library @ Esplanade
2. Brahm Education Centre
3. Sungei Gedong Camp
4. Nee Soon Camp
5. Maternal Grandma's house
6. Toilet
7. Pulau Ubin
8. SAF Holiday Chalet
9. Peacehaven Old Folk's Home
EIGHT things you want to do before you die:
1. Own a Steinway Grand
2. Own a studio
3. Travel to London and the West End
4. Be able to become a full-time composer
5. See that the Government really supports the arts in Singapore WHOLEHEARTEDLY and not some half-fucked wayang bullshit
6. That more Singaporeans become artistically inclined.
7. Be a versatile composer encompassing all styles and genres
8. Parents stop forcing their kids to be good in every single shit - especially so that they can show-off their priceless treasure to other parents.
SEVEN ways for others to win your heart:
1. Don't try to stop what I am trying to do
2. Stop talking to me about girls and asking me if the girls I've met are pretty
3. Ask me why I don't want to take the Diploma examinations in music
4. Ask me to do things for you when you obviously being lazy in the first place
5. Get a copy of the Straits Times daily for me
6. Stop harassing me when I'm trying to compose/arrange/write - I don't like people coming up behind my back to look over my shoulder at what I am doing, and then worse still, ask what am I writing about, why am I writing this and so on. It's very irritating
7. Support me in condemning artistes who lip-synch.
In general . . . don't come and piss me off. How do you know if I'm pissed? Look at my actions and my facial expressions . . . it's quite impossible to fail in basic PR right?
SIX songs you've listened to lately:
1. Theme song from New Police Story
2. Theme song from TVB'S Journey to the West
3. Songs from Les Miserables
4. Constant Craving
5. Time After Time
FIVE things you believe in:
1. Music - that it can affect profoundly
2. Bad people will still get their way
3. I cannot do anything else other than music
4. It will happen one day
5. My life has been pre-planned and destination confirmed
FOUR of your favourite items in your bedroom:
1. Laptop
2. Speakers
3. Stationery
4. Piano (unfortunately in the living room)
THREE things you do everyday:
1. Compose
2. Write
3. Play piano
TWO things you are trying not to do right now:
1. Sleep
2. Go online (because the Internet is overused)
ONE person you need to see right now:
The fellow who will return me my pink I/C . . .
¶ 3/27/2005 12:35:00 pm 0 comments
1. Music
2. Shostakovich
3. The English Language
4. Singlish
5. Workaholism
6. Musical Theatre
7. Composition
8. Piano
9. Sibelius Version 2.0
10. Music scores
NINE places you've visited:
1. Library @ Esplanade
2. Brahm Education Centre
3. Sungei Gedong Camp
4. Nee Soon Camp
5. Maternal Grandma's house
6. Toilet
7. Pulau Ubin
8. SAF Holiday Chalet
9. Peacehaven Old Folk's Home
EIGHT things you want to do before you die:
1. Own a Steinway Grand
2. Own a studio
3. Travel to London and the West End
4. Be able to become a full-time composer
5. See that the Government really supports the arts in Singapore WHOLEHEARTEDLY and not some half-fucked wayang bullshit
6. That more Singaporeans become artistically inclined.
7. Be a versatile composer encompassing all styles and genres
8. Parents stop forcing their kids to be good in every single shit - especially so that they can show-off their priceless treasure to other parents.
SEVEN ways for others to win your heart:
1. Don't try to stop what I am trying to do
2. Stop talking to me about girls and asking me if the girls I've met are pretty
3. Ask me why I don't want to take the Diploma examinations in music
4. Ask me to do things for you when you obviously being lazy in the first place
5. Get a copy of the Straits Times daily for me
6. Stop harassing me when I'm trying to compose/arrange/write - I don't like people coming up behind my back to look over my shoulder at what I am doing, and then worse still, ask what am I writing about, why am I writing this and so on. It's very irritating
7. Support me in condemning artistes who lip-synch.
In general . . . don't come and piss me off. How do you know if I'm pissed? Look at my actions and my facial expressions . . . it's quite impossible to fail in basic PR right?
SIX songs you've listened to lately:
1. Theme song from New Police Story
2. Theme song from TVB'S Journey to the West
3. Songs from Les Miserables
4. Constant Craving
5. Time After Time
FIVE things you believe in:
1. Music - that it can affect profoundly
2. Bad people will still get their way
3. I cannot do anything else other than music
4. It will happen one day
5. My life has been pre-planned and destination confirmed
FOUR of your favourite items in your bedroom:
1. Laptop
2. Speakers
3. Stationery
4. Piano (unfortunately in the living room)
THREE things you do everyday:
1. Compose
2. Write
3. Play piano
TWO things you are trying not to do right now:
1. Sleep
2. Go online (because the Internet is overused)
ONE person you need to see right now:
The fellow who will return me my pink I/C . . .
SEVEN SINS
XXX ANGER XXX
What is your weapon of choice?
.22 Calibre Pistol . . . it's fucking luxury for those serving the police force . . .
Would you hit a member of the opposite sex?
No
How about of the same sex?
No
Who was the last person who got really angry at you?
Mr C
Do you keep grudges, or can you let them go easily?
Depends
XXX SLOTH XXX
What is one thing you're supposed to do daily that you haven't done in a long time?
Prepare my portfolio for Dr Lyen . . . it's been two months . . .
What is the latest you've ever woken up?
11:00am
What is the last lame excuse you made?
I'm busy with work (without specifying what type of work)
When was the last time you had a good workout?
Last week . . . is SOC considered workout?
How many times did you hit the snooze button on your alarm clock today?
I don't use an alarm clock
XXX GLUTTONY XXX
What is your overpriced yuppie beverage of choice?
Those iced teas from Starbucks
Are you a meat eater?
Yes
What is the greatest amount of alcohol you've had in one sitting/outing/event?
10ml of wine . . . took ten minutes to consume
Do you have an issue with your weight?
Yes . . . I need to get fatter, because all the newer pants that I bought can't be worn without a belt
Do you prefer sweet, salty or spicy food?
Sweet
Have you ever looked at a small house pet or child and thought, "LUNCH"!?
No . . . how perverted is that?
XXX LUST XXX
How many people have seen YOU naked (not counting physicians/family)?
Whoever has served NS with me
Have you ever caught yourself staring at the chest/crotch of a member of your gender of choice during a normal conversation?
No
Have you "done it"?
No
What is your favourite body part on a person of your gender of choice?
I'm not interested in the body
Ever tested for an STD or pregnancy?
!!!
XXX GREED XXX
How many credit cards do you own?
Zero
What's your guilty pleasure store?
Kino
If you had $1 million, what would you do with it?
Spend it for university fees!
Would you rather be rich or famous?
Rich
Would you accept a boring job if it meant you would make megabucks?
NO!!!
XXX PRIDE XXX
What is the one thing that you have done are you most proud of?
Being able to write music
What is the one thing that you have done that your parents are most proud of?
Getting full marks for a MATHS test in Primary One . . . that was the first and last time I ever scored full marks for a maths test . . .
What is the one thing would you like to accomplish in your life?
Educate a new generation of composers, no matter what genre they pursue
Do you get annoyed by coming in second place?
Second place is good enough!
Have you ever entered a contest of skill, knowing you were of much higher skill than all the other competitors?
No
Have you ever cheated on something to get a higher score?
No and no way
What did you do today that you're proud of?
Arranged "Hua Hao Yue Yuan" for symphony orchestra within one hour
XXX ENVY XXX
What item (or person) or your friends' would you most want to have for your own?
Grand piano
Who would you want to go on "Trading Spaces" with?
What the heck is "Trading Spaces"?
If you could be anyone else in the world, who would you be?
Either John Williams or Joe Hisaishi
Have you ever been cheated on?
Yes . . . too many times
Have you ever wished you had a physical feature different from your own?
No
What inborn trait do you see in others that you wish you had for yourself?
Being firm and saying NO.
Do you wish you'd come up with this survey?
No
XXX
FINALLY, what is your FAVOURITE deadly sin?
GLUTTONY, because I love FOOD.
¶ 3/27/2005 12:34:00 pm 0 comments
XXX ANGER XXX
What is your weapon of choice?
.22 Calibre Pistol . . . it's fucking luxury for those serving the police force . . .
Would you hit a member of the opposite sex?
No
How about of the same sex?
No
Who was the last person who got really angry at you?
Mr C
Do you keep grudges, or can you let them go easily?
Depends
XXX SLOTH XXX
What is one thing you're supposed to do daily that you haven't done in a long time?
Prepare my portfolio for Dr Lyen . . . it's been two months . . .
What is the latest you've ever woken up?
11:00am
What is the last lame excuse you made?
I'm busy with work (without specifying what type of work)
When was the last time you had a good workout?
Last week . . . is SOC considered workout?
How many times did you hit the snooze button on your alarm clock today?
I don't use an alarm clock
XXX GLUTTONY XXX
What is your overpriced yuppie beverage of choice?
Those iced teas from Starbucks
Are you a meat eater?
Yes
What is the greatest amount of alcohol you've had in one sitting/outing/event?
10ml of wine . . . took ten minutes to consume
Do you have an issue with your weight?
Yes . . . I need to get fatter, because all the newer pants that I bought can't be worn without a belt
Do you prefer sweet, salty or spicy food?
Sweet
Have you ever looked at a small house pet or child and thought, "LUNCH"!?
No . . . how perverted is that?
XXX LUST XXX
How many people have seen YOU naked (not counting physicians/family)?
Whoever has served NS with me
Have you ever caught yourself staring at the chest/crotch of a member of your gender of choice during a normal conversation?
No
Have you "done it"?
No
What is your favourite body part on a person of your gender of choice?
I'm not interested in the body
Ever tested for an STD or pregnancy?
!!!
XXX GREED XXX
How many credit cards do you own?
Zero
What's your guilty pleasure store?
Kino
If you had $1 million, what would you do with it?
Spend it for university fees!
Would you rather be rich or famous?
Rich
Would you accept a boring job if it meant you would make megabucks?
NO!!!
XXX PRIDE XXX
What is the one thing that you have done are you most proud of?
Being able to write music
What is the one thing that you have done that your parents are most proud of?
Getting full marks for a MATHS test in Primary One . . . that was the first and last time I ever scored full marks for a maths test . . .
What is the one thing would you like to accomplish in your life?
Educate a new generation of composers, no matter what genre they pursue
Do you get annoyed by coming in second place?
Second place is good enough!
Have you ever entered a contest of skill, knowing you were of much higher skill than all the other competitors?
No
Have you ever cheated on something to get a higher score?
No and no way
What did you do today that you're proud of?
Arranged "Hua Hao Yue Yuan" for symphony orchestra within one hour
XXX ENVY XXX
What item (or person) or your friends' would you most want to have for your own?
Grand piano
Who would you want to go on "Trading Spaces" with?
What the heck is "Trading Spaces"?
If you could be anyone else in the world, who would you be?
Either John Williams or Joe Hisaishi
Have you ever been cheated on?
Yes . . . too many times
Have you ever wished you had a physical feature different from your own?
No
What inborn trait do you see in others that you wish you had for yourself?
Being firm and saying NO.
Do you wish you'd come up with this survey?
No
XXX
FINALLY, what is your FAVOURITE deadly sin?
GLUTTONY, because I love FOOD.
Source: http://www.timesonline.co.uk/article/0,,592-1519825,00.html
IMPROVE YOUR SINGLISH by Mark Abley
English is the global language that unites us all. Or is it? In reality local slang rules. Take 'Singlish' for a start
"Last time policeman also wear shorts," a man told me in Singapore a few weeks ago. I wondered if this was a commentary on local fashion, or maybe an oblique political statement. In Singapore, freedom of speech is far from absolute. But no, all he meant was "That's nothing new."
The remorseless sprawl of English has given much of the world a lingua franca: ours. In the 21st century, no matter where you are, you can generally find a regional newspaper in English, and watch CNN or BBC World. The impact on some minority languages has been severe. But lately I've come to realise that the spread of English can also have a very different effect: it has helped to create a space where new forms of language can emerge.
Singlish — otherwise known as Singapore Colloquial English — is one of them. It grows out of a raw, rough, vibrant mix of English, Malay, Tamil and the languages of southern China, Hokkien in particular. I spent an evening in the Singapore Cricket Club with a Tamil lawyer who announced, after his third whisky: "Profanities come to me most easily in Hokkien."
He meant phrases like "lan tui", which is, according to the informal and invaluable Coxford Singlish Dictionary, the local equivalent of "Up yours!" The literal meaning is "penis split". You just drop the phrase into a gobbet of conversation, as in "You want me to make dinner for you again? Lan tui!" My favourite Singlish phrase is a long chunk of language, lifted straight from Hokkien, that women might prefer to avoid: "Giah lum pah chut lai tom to'teng." Use this only if you're a man and are feeling seriously upset or embarrassed. It means "to take one's testicles out and bang them on the table".
Lots of Singapore expressions, of course, are not obscene, and have nothing to do with Hokkien or any other Chinese idiom. The local equivalent of "je ne sais quoi" is "very what one" — thus the delightful sentence "She very what one, you know?" Try saying that in the pub; maybe the phrase will take off in the UK.
Just like a Texan drawl or a self-conscious use of Estuary English, Singlish is a signifier of identity. Not only does it make a statement; it is a statement. It's also a work in progress. There are no grammatical rules that a Singlish speaker is obliged to follow. The language is created afresh on the blistering streets every day.
But language creation can happen anywhere. The fragmentation of society means that all of us belong to groups, subgroups, even sub-subgroups of one kind or another. As a result, all of us make use of a specialised vocabulary that can bemuse other people.
Last time policeman also wear shorts, you say? Maybe so. Blacksmiths and shepherds had a big working vocabulary which is largely forgotten now. I own a copy of the Dictionary of Newfoundland English, a 770-page tome full of arcane fishing terms like corfish, trouncer, yarking and slob hauler. Now that the industry is all but gone (factory ships destroyed the resource), such words are unlikely to endure.
In the past, though, the words of a Newfoundland fisherman or a Cumberland shepherd remained private. Few people outside their region ever heard them speak. Today, thanks in part to the internet, we are lit up by words. Even the Coxford Singlish Dictionary can be found online, at www.talkingcock.com.
The specialised languages of music are a potent source of new terms, ones that often baffle. "Brooks is a maximalist to the core," a music critic wrote last year, "suggesting an alternate path bleep could have taken, incorporating Hyper-On Experiences' spastic bricolage and deep house's sensurround production". Say what?
Song lyrics can be equally puzzling — except to those in the loop. On Dutty Rock, the 2002 CD by the Jamaican dancehall singer Sean Paul, a single verse contains a mixture of apparent nonsense ("chippy lippy lippy loo"), fairly standard English ("let's go together correspond woman"), and something that may look like nonsense but isn't ("dutty cup we deh a haffi sing").
Paul's hit song Get Busy includes the line "Me want fi see you get live 'pon the riddim weh me ride." And how will this happen? As the next line explains, "Me lyrics a provide electricity."
You might respond that Paul is guilty of degrading the English language. But what's more important is that he has the confidence to deploy and adapt Jamaican dialect for an international audience — and get rich in the process.
Our lingua franca, then, may turn out to be less of a standardising force than many of us fear. English speeds off the lips of millions of people every day. But what kind of English? The language is as elastic as a rubber band.
The phrase "behind the eight ball", for instance, comes from the game of pool. It's a position you want to avoid. Among US street gangs, though, "eight ball" is now said to mean an eighth of an ounce of cocaine. Just like hats, clothing and graffiti tags, words show other people who you are — or who you want to be. On the mean streets "going on line" has nothing to do with computers; it means entering a gang.
Computers, of course, are a rich lode of new idioms. Look at the burgeoning technology section of an American website, www.wordspy.com, that's devoted to "lexpionage" — the ferreting out of new words and phrases. A recent entry is "crackberry": a person who can't stop using his or her BlackBerry.
True, nobody's required to keep up with technology. But if we don't, we may well suffer an acute sense of cognitive displacement. There's a phrase on the windows of London Tube trains that would have been incomprehensible ten years ago: "TEXT LONDON TO 82012." Now it's assumed that everyone grasps the meaning.
In short, language is evolving at unprecedented speed — evolving? Dude, it's morphing. The policeman has no shorts.
* * *
New Verbiage in Meatspace:
Blunts, Buddha, the chronic, indo, sess: In hip-hop culture, some of the many names for marijuana
Meatspace: The real, flesh-and-blood world, as seen by internet futurists
Monetize eyeballs: To turn browsers into spenders, a phrase common among managers at Amazon.com
Mugger toad: In the colloquial Singlish of Singapore, a hard-working student who can regurgitate information
NGB: Short for "nice guy but". At US universities, a potential friend but not a potential lover
Pastorpreneur: The minister of a "gigachurch" in the US
Verbiage: The words that editors produce at Amazon.com; verbiage should be "leverized" for maximum profit
Ya ya papaya: Singlish for an arrogant person
You can't fly on one wing: Canadian slang for "Have another drink"
¶ 3/27/2005 12:32:00 pm 0 comments
IMPROVE YOUR SINGLISH by Mark Abley
English is the global language that unites us all. Or is it? In reality local slang rules. Take 'Singlish' for a start
"Last time policeman also wear shorts," a man told me in Singapore a few weeks ago. I wondered if this was a commentary on local fashion, or maybe an oblique political statement. In Singapore, freedom of speech is far from absolute. But no, all he meant was "That's nothing new."
The remorseless sprawl of English has given much of the world a lingua franca: ours. In the 21st century, no matter where you are, you can generally find a regional newspaper in English, and watch CNN or BBC World. The impact on some minority languages has been severe. But lately I've come to realise that the spread of English can also have a very different effect: it has helped to create a space where new forms of language can emerge.
Singlish — otherwise known as Singapore Colloquial English — is one of them. It grows out of a raw, rough, vibrant mix of English, Malay, Tamil and the languages of southern China, Hokkien in particular. I spent an evening in the Singapore Cricket Club with a Tamil lawyer who announced, after his third whisky: "Profanities come to me most easily in Hokkien."
He meant phrases like "lan tui", which is, according to the informal and invaluable Coxford Singlish Dictionary, the local equivalent of "Up yours!" The literal meaning is "penis split". You just drop the phrase into a gobbet of conversation, as in "You want me to make dinner for you again? Lan tui!" My favourite Singlish phrase is a long chunk of language, lifted straight from Hokkien, that women might prefer to avoid: "Giah lum pah chut lai tom to'teng." Use this only if you're a man and are feeling seriously upset or embarrassed. It means "to take one's testicles out and bang them on the table".
Lots of Singapore expressions, of course, are not obscene, and have nothing to do with Hokkien or any other Chinese idiom. The local equivalent of "je ne sais quoi" is "very what one" — thus the delightful sentence "She very what one, you know?" Try saying that in the pub; maybe the phrase will take off in the UK.
Just like a Texan drawl or a self-conscious use of Estuary English, Singlish is a signifier of identity. Not only does it make a statement; it is a statement. It's also a work in progress. There are no grammatical rules that a Singlish speaker is obliged to follow. The language is created afresh on the blistering streets every day.
But language creation can happen anywhere. The fragmentation of society means that all of us belong to groups, subgroups, even sub-subgroups of one kind or another. As a result, all of us make use of a specialised vocabulary that can bemuse other people.
Last time policeman also wear shorts, you say? Maybe so. Blacksmiths and shepherds had a big working vocabulary which is largely forgotten now. I own a copy of the Dictionary of Newfoundland English, a 770-page tome full of arcane fishing terms like corfish, trouncer, yarking and slob hauler. Now that the industry is all but gone (factory ships destroyed the resource), such words are unlikely to endure.
In the past, though, the words of a Newfoundland fisherman or a Cumberland shepherd remained private. Few people outside their region ever heard them speak. Today, thanks in part to the internet, we are lit up by words. Even the Coxford Singlish Dictionary can be found online, at www.talkingcock.com.
The specialised languages of music are a potent source of new terms, ones that often baffle. "Brooks is a maximalist to the core," a music critic wrote last year, "suggesting an alternate path bleep could have taken, incorporating Hyper-On Experiences' spastic bricolage and deep house's sensurround production". Say what?
Song lyrics can be equally puzzling — except to those in the loop. On Dutty Rock, the 2002 CD by the Jamaican dancehall singer Sean Paul, a single verse contains a mixture of apparent nonsense ("chippy lippy lippy loo"), fairly standard English ("let's go together correspond woman"), and something that may look like nonsense but isn't ("dutty cup we deh a haffi sing").
Paul's hit song Get Busy includes the line "Me want fi see you get live 'pon the riddim weh me ride." And how will this happen? As the next line explains, "Me lyrics a provide electricity."
You might respond that Paul is guilty of degrading the English language. But what's more important is that he has the confidence to deploy and adapt Jamaican dialect for an international audience — and get rich in the process.
Our lingua franca, then, may turn out to be less of a standardising force than many of us fear. English speeds off the lips of millions of people every day. But what kind of English? The language is as elastic as a rubber band.
The phrase "behind the eight ball", for instance, comes from the game of pool. It's a position you want to avoid. Among US street gangs, though, "eight ball" is now said to mean an eighth of an ounce of cocaine. Just like hats, clothing and graffiti tags, words show other people who you are — or who you want to be. On the mean streets "going on line" has nothing to do with computers; it means entering a gang.
Computers, of course, are a rich lode of new idioms. Look at the burgeoning technology section of an American website, www.wordspy.com, that's devoted to "lexpionage" — the ferreting out of new words and phrases. A recent entry is "crackberry": a person who can't stop using his or her BlackBerry.
True, nobody's required to keep up with technology. But if we don't, we may well suffer an acute sense of cognitive displacement. There's a phrase on the windows of London Tube trains that would have been incomprehensible ten years ago: "TEXT LONDON TO 82012." Now it's assumed that everyone grasps the meaning.
In short, language is evolving at unprecedented speed — evolving? Dude, it's morphing. The policeman has no shorts.
* * *
New Verbiage in Meatspace:
Blunts, Buddha, the chronic, indo, sess: In hip-hop culture, some of the many names for marijuana
Meatspace: The real, flesh-and-blood world, as seen by internet futurists
Monetize eyeballs: To turn browsers into spenders, a phrase common among managers at Amazon.com
Mugger toad: In the colloquial Singlish of Singapore, a hard-working student who can regurgitate information
NGB: Short for "nice guy but". At US universities, a potential friend but not a potential lover
Pastorpreneur: The minister of a "gigachurch" in the US
Verbiage: The words that editors produce at Amazon.com; verbiage should be "leverized" for maximum profit
Ya ya papaya: Singlish for an arrogant person
You can't fly on one wing: Canadian slang for "Have another drink"
Wednesday, March 23, 2005
Outside the Changi Village Ferry Terminal before boarding the boat for Ubin... the next you'll see the same scene outside the Peacehaven Nursing Home... photo courtesy of Dex
Posted by Hello ¶ 3/23/2005 10:24:00 pm 0 comments
Cycling trip on Pulau Ubin... photo courtesy of Dex
Posted by Hello ¶ 3/23/2005 09:57:00 pm 0 comments
HAPPY BIRTHDAY DAD!
* * *
The new ferry terminal for the boat to Pulau Ubin looks like something from the Indonesian island of Bali. Okay, not authentically Bali, but a Singapore-styled Bali design.
There's even an elevator and a shop selling beverages - a far cry from the original where it was simply a sheltered T-shape jetty. There wasn't enough space for all the boats to dock, so you had to jump from boat to boat to get to your launch. A bit like the kind of obstacle thing on water, where each step is floating and swaying from side to side and you have to jump to get across the water body with falling in.
The ferry ride is $2, and it will only go when there are twelve passengers, no more no less. It's more worth it to go off with maximum capacity - he doesn't have to waste fuel just sending one person there, unless his passenger is so bloody rich he can provide the boatman a pension. There're very strict about this - so if you don't have twelve people, or let alone a partner, then HK to you.
I fear getting seasick. It's been a long time since I last took a boat. That was during BMT, when we were ferried from the mainland to the island of Tekong by the fast craft (i.e. Penguin ferry). My last sea journey - I can still remember the exact date - was 5 June 2004, the day I passed out, never to return again (okay, perhaps later this year when I go for the evaluation exercise).
Soon Lee asks me, "Does this remind you of Tekong?"
Ironically, yes.
* * *
The boat journey lasts about ten minutes - Ubin is pretty close to the mainland, such that you can even see the chalets from the main town area.
The boatmen are damned skilled. They have no elaborate unloading procedure, as what modern ferries have. In the latter, you'll see a member of the crew standing outside the cabin as the vessel approaches the jetty. If I'm not wrong, as soon as the vessel is alongside the jetty, or close enough, the man will jump with the rope and loop it around the post on the jetty. The vessel will then be moored in.
Not for this. The boatman simply reverses the launch like how one would reverse a car. He will drive the back of the boat against the stair wall of the jetty - the rubber tyres dangling at the side act as a buffer. The boat stays there as the motor pushes it against the wall. The boatman will give the signal to disembark. We scale the stairs quickly. Then he drives off.
The so-called Ubin ferry terminal is a simple affair: a sort of shelter at the end of the jetty, with two steps leading to the water, like those you may find along the Singapore River. The boats act like taxis or shuttle buses - they arrive, drop their passengers and go off, if it is the peak period. There are no high-tech barriers or security posts - you can stay on jetty as long as you like for nobody cares about you. If you want a boat you just have to open your mouth.
Bicycle rental is $3 - for the WHOLE DAY. At East Coast Park one bicycle costs a whooping $4 or $5 for one or two hours.
Of course, the compromise is lousy bicycles - bicycles with broken gears, broken breaks (which is the worst case) and for some, out-of-shape rims.
For those who cannot cycle, they hop onto two-seaters, with those who can ride sitting in front.
The whole company sets off down the road. Very familiar - the very road I took the last time I came with my school on a Heritage Tour trip. We walked all the way to some kampong house where we went in and had a look. Then we went to visit the Headman's house on the way back. We are now taking the same route, except we are going further than the kampong house I visited.
Soon everyone has dispersed. People ride at different speeds. The faster riders have shot off in front.
I try to stay clear of other bikes. Once they go out of control I will feel extremely anxious and lose my nerve and grip.
* * *
Some of the villagers live alone in isolation, far away from others. I forget what that term in Geography is . . .
At the same time, they are pit-stops for the weary traveller around Ubin, offering cold drinks and resting areas.
Some even have animals on display. At one house, located near the beach overlooking Malaysia, the owner rears a peacock, which proudly struts its fan of feathers at us while some of the guys enthusiastically snap up photos of it. After some time it turns to walk away from the cameras, and the guys have to coax it to turn back. Like some diva, it eventually complies.
The owner of the house also rears a wild boar - a rather smallish one, the size of an adult pig. But you know how large boars can really go . . . anyway this one is lying on the ground, sleeping. There is some infection near its stout - it is bloody red. The poor thing. Its pen is not even cleaned - the smell of shit lingers in the air and drives us away rather quickly, and there are pieces of dried-up shit on the floor of the enclosure.
The village headman owns an ostrich. We thought it'd be about the height of a man. No, we are wrong. It is about the height of a single-deck bus. And by golly - it is HUMONGOUS. Its eyes are the size of marbles. A few times it opens its mouth - Weng Fai says he's going to spit and we quickly back off.
* * *
C is damn unhygienic . . . and pretty vain too.
He loses his nose stud while cycling. Feeling his nose itchy, he scratches it. Oops! The stud drops out. He and I backtrack to look for it - we can't find it. He says, "Never mind", and asks me to pull out his ear stud and STICK IN INTO HIS NOSE. Then he takes out some ring from his bag, places it on the floor with a piece of tissue as a protective base - but I can't see how that protects from the germs in the air - as I fill up the hole in his nose. The ring - as you guess it - goes into the ear to fill it up.
I am actually quivering as I slot the stud into the nose hole. I keep asking him, "Will it hurt?" - he retorts, "Just put it in." I slot the metal pin into the hole - it slides in easily like a key into the hole it fits.
Well, not exactly ALL the time.
Yucks. The whole thing is so unhygienic.
* * *
MJ runs into a mishap.
There is this extremely steep hill that we all travel down. The brakes on MJ's bike have all failed, and he sails down the road uncontrollably, goes off it and crashes into the grass patch. Thank God - there is a beehive on the tree directly in front of where he lands; beyond that is a mangrove swamp.
He is badly cut - on the stomach, the thigh, the arms, and an entire side of his body is entirely covered with grease.
I'm one of the last, and when I arrive at the scene I see a few fallen bicycles, more parked ones, and the guys clustering around . . .
It is difficult to place calls, as reception on the island is poor due to the lack of coverage. A van passes us - we want to hail the driver to stop and ferry our injured back to the town. The stupid thing is that we wave to the driver and the passengers to get their attention - in return they think we are saying "hi", wave back and continue to drive along.
SHIT!
So we have to transport him back ourselves. Luckily there is a two-seater bicycle with us - we load MJ onto the back seat and Ronald gets behind the wheel - I mean, steering handle. The rest of us form a convoy, and we ride back to town.
* * *
One should be careful when ordering Hor Fun. Apparently, the "wet" version can mean Hor Fun SOUP. It consists of all the ingredients of Hor Fun, except it is all thrown into clear soup. When it arrives in front of Jeremy (he ordered it) everybody is putting question marks on their head.
¶ 3/23/2005 09:48:00 pm 0 comments
* * *
The new ferry terminal for the boat to Pulau Ubin looks like something from the Indonesian island of Bali. Okay, not authentically Bali, but a Singapore-styled Bali design.
There's even an elevator and a shop selling beverages - a far cry from the original where it was simply a sheltered T-shape jetty. There wasn't enough space for all the boats to dock, so you had to jump from boat to boat to get to your launch. A bit like the kind of obstacle thing on water, where each step is floating and swaying from side to side and you have to jump to get across the water body with falling in.
The ferry ride is $2, and it will only go when there are twelve passengers, no more no less. It's more worth it to go off with maximum capacity - he doesn't have to waste fuel just sending one person there, unless his passenger is so bloody rich he can provide the boatman a pension. There're very strict about this - so if you don't have twelve people, or let alone a partner, then HK to you.
I fear getting seasick. It's been a long time since I last took a boat. That was during BMT, when we were ferried from the mainland to the island of Tekong by the fast craft (i.e. Penguin ferry). My last sea journey - I can still remember the exact date - was 5 June 2004, the day I passed out, never to return again (okay, perhaps later this year when I go for the evaluation exercise).
Soon Lee asks me, "Does this remind you of Tekong?"
Ironically, yes.
* * *
The boat journey lasts about ten minutes - Ubin is pretty close to the mainland, such that you can even see the chalets from the main town area.
The boatmen are damned skilled. They have no elaborate unloading procedure, as what modern ferries have. In the latter, you'll see a member of the crew standing outside the cabin as the vessel approaches the jetty. If I'm not wrong, as soon as the vessel is alongside the jetty, or close enough, the man will jump with the rope and loop it around the post on the jetty. The vessel will then be moored in.
Not for this. The boatman simply reverses the launch like how one would reverse a car. He will drive the back of the boat against the stair wall of the jetty - the rubber tyres dangling at the side act as a buffer. The boat stays there as the motor pushes it against the wall. The boatman will give the signal to disembark. We scale the stairs quickly. Then he drives off.
The so-called Ubin ferry terminal is a simple affair: a sort of shelter at the end of the jetty, with two steps leading to the water, like those you may find along the Singapore River. The boats act like taxis or shuttle buses - they arrive, drop their passengers and go off, if it is the peak period. There are no high-tech barriers or security posts - you can stay on jetty as long as you like for nobody cares about you. If you want a boat you just have to open your mouth.
Bicycle rental is $3 - for the WHOLE DAY. At East Coast Park one bicycle costs a whooping $4 or $5 for one or two hours.
Of course, the compromise is lousy bicycles - bicycles with broken gears, broken breaks (which is the worst case) and for some, out-of-shape rims.
For those who cannot cycle, they hop onto two-seaters, with those who can ride sitting in front.
The whole company sets off down the road. Very familiar - the very road I took the last time I came with my school on a Heritage Tour trip. We walked all the way to some kampong house where we went in and had a look. Then we went to visit the Headman's house on the way back. We are now taking the same route, except we are going further than the kampong house I visited.
Soon everyone has dispersed. People ride at different speeds. The faster riders have shot off in front.
I try to stay clear of other bikes. Once they go out of control I will feel extremely anxious and lose my nerve and grip.
* * *
Some of the villagers live alone in isolation, far away from others. I forget what that term in Geography is . . .
At the same time, they are pit-stops for the weary traveller around Ubin, offering cold drinks and resting areas.
Some even have animals on display. At one house, located near the beach overlooking Malaysia, the owner rears a peacock, which proudly struts its fan of feathers at us while some of the guys enthusiastically snap up photos of it. After some time it turns to walk away from the cameras, and the guys have to coax it to turn back. Like some diva, it eventually complies.
The owner of the house also rears a wild boar - a rather smallish one, the size of an adult pig. But you know how large boars can really go . . . anyway this one is lying on the ground, sleeping. There is some infection near its stout - it is bloody red. The poor thing. Its pen is not even cleaned - the smell of shit lingers in the air and drives us away rather quickly, and there are pieces of dried-up shit on the floor of the enclosure.
The village headman owns an ostrich. We thought it'd be about the height of a man. No, we are wrong. It is about the height of a single-deck bus. And by golly - it is HUMONGOUS. Its eyes are the size of marbles. A few times it opens its mouth - Weng Fai says he's going to spit and we quickly back off.
* * *
C is damn unhygienic . . . and pretty vain too.
He loses his nose stud while cycling. Feeling his nose itchy, he scratches it. Oops! The stud drops out. He and I backtrack to look for it - we can't find it. He says, "Never mind", and asks me to pull out his ear stud and STICK IN INTO HIS NOSE. Then he takes out some ring from his bag, places it on the floor with a piece of tissue as a protective base - but I can't see how that protects from the germs in the air - as I fill up the hole in his nose. The ring - as you guess it - goes into the ear to fill it up.
I am actually quivering as I slot the stud into the nose hole. I keep asking him, "Will it hurt?" - he retorts, "Just put it in." I slot the metal pin into the hole - it slides in easily like a key into the hole it fits.
Well, not exactly ALL the time.
Yucks. The whole thing is so unhygienic.
* * *
MJ runs into a mishap.
There is this extremely steep hill that we all travel down. The brakes on MJ's bike have all failed, and he sails down the road uncontrollably, goes off it and crashes into the grass patch. Thank God - there is a beehive on the tree directly in front of where he lands; beyond that is a mangrove swamp.
He is badly cut - on the stomach, the thigh, the arms, and an entire side of his body is entirely covered with grease.
I'm one of the last, and when I arrive at the scene I see a few fallen bicycles, more parked ones, and the guys clustering around . . .
It is difficult to place calls, as reception on the island is poor due to the lack of coverage. A van passes us - we want to hail the driver to stop and ferry our injured back to the town. The stupid thing is that we wave to the driver and the passengers to get their attention - in return they think we are saying "hi", wave back and continue to drive along.
SHIT!
So we have to transport him back ourselves. Luckily there is a two-seater bicycle with us - we load MJ onto the back seat and Ronald gets behind the wheel - I mean, steering handle. The rest of us form a convoy, and we ride back to town.
* * *
One should be careful when ordering Hor Fun. Apparently, the "wet" version can mean Hor Fun SOUP. It consists of all the ingredients of Hor Fun, except it is all thrown into clear soup. When it arrives in front of Jeremy (he ordered it) everybody is putting question marks on their head.
Tuesday, March 22, 2005
An interesting fact about my birthday...
WHY MAY 20 IS A GOOD DAY TO GET MARRIED
Officials in the Netherlands have been flooded with requests from couples wanting to get married on May 20 because the date is easy for men to remember, reported Ananova.com.
"Men are not very good at remembering dates but 20/05/2005 is an easy one for them, and women are signing up to get married on that day as a result," said a spokeswoman.
Second on the list of available dates was 05/05/05.
¶ 3/22/2005 10:46:00 pm 0 comments
Officials in the Netherlands have been flooded with requests from couples wanting to get married on May 20 because the date is easy for men to remember, reported Ananova.com.
"Men are not very good at remembering dates but 20/05/2005 is an easy one for them, and women are signing up to get married on that day as a result," said a spokeswoman.
Second on the list of available dates was 05/05/05.
1. Are you good at hiding your feelings?
Sometimes . . . but in the case of having this blog, no.
2. How can we tell that you're already irritated?
I begin snapping at people; I sit alone silently, staring at some particular point: I slam things.
3. How do you treat the person that obviously doesn't like you?
Suān him and jĭ siáo the person, and snap at the person when he/she talks to me.
4. What usually ruins your mood?
Not getting what I originally intended; being humiliated; being screwed upside down.
5. Who do you see everyday that you wish you just wouldn't at all?
Some people in the company . . .
6. How often do you shop for clothes?
Once a year? Or not even at all . . .
7. Do you have something that you wish you just don't?
Medical status of Pes A (for those who don't know, it means that I am medically fit for any shit stuff the army gives me)
8. Do you sometimes crave for something that isn't there?
Of course . . .
9. Do you wish to live in a faraway land where nobody knows you?
Sometimes, yes. But only if you're as able as Robinson Crusoe . . .
10. What do you want to do at this very moment?
ORD! But that's the impossible dream . . .
11. What is the worst feeling?
Thinking of bad things . . . and then suddenly my mood will swing very quickly.
12. What is the best feeling?
Being involved in music
13. Have you ever given your number to someone you dislike?
Yes . . .
14. Have you ever said something about or to someone that you know who reads this?
Of course, if they're the protagonist(s) in the event.
15. What or who do you need right now?
Music . . .
¶ 3/22/2005 10:45:00 pm 0 comments
Sometimes . . . but in the case of having this blog, no.
2. How can we tell that you're already irritated?
I begin snapping at people; I sit alone silently, staring at some particular point: I slam things.
3. How do you treat the person that obviously doesn't like you?
Suān him and jĭ siáo the person, and snap at the person when he/she talks to me.
4. What usually ruins your mood?
Not getting what I originally intended; being humiliated; being screwed upside down.
5. Who do you see everyday that you wish you just wouldn't at all?
Some people in the company . . .
6. How often do you shop for clothes?
Once a year? Or not even at all . . .
7. Do you have something that you wish you just don't?
Medical status of Pes A (for those who don't know, it means that I am medically fit for any shit stuff the army gives me)
8. Do you sometimes crave for something that isn't there?
Of course . . .
9. Do you wish to live in a faraway land where nobody knows you?
Sometimes, yes. But only if you're as able as Robinson Crusoe . . .
10. What do you want to do at this very moment?
ORD! But that's the impossible dream . . .
11. What is the worst feeling?
Thinking of bad things . . . and then suddenly my mood will swing very quickly.
12. What is the best feeling?
Being involved in music
13. Have you ever given your number to someone you dislike?
Yes . . .
14. Have you ever said something about or to someone that you know who reads this?
Of course, if they're the protagonist(s) in the event.
15. What or who do you need right now?
Music . . .
1. What is the date and time now?
21/3/2005, 12:18am
2. Who are at home with you now?
My parents and my younger brother
3. Did you go out yesterday?
Yes - considering now it's Monday and "yesterday" was Sunday
4. Do you prefer durians or guavas?
Both
5. What time did you wake up today?
9:30++
6. Did you go anywhere?
Brahm Education Centre for practice with the Sorraco Musical Group, then to my maternal grandma's to collect some tonic drink
7. How old are you now?
Nearing twenty
8. Are you mature or immature?
Inmature
9. What do you call your mother?
Ma
10. Are you the only boy or girl in the family?
No.
11. What perfume or cologne are you using now?
I don't use
12. Do you use them everyday?
Please refer to the reply for the question above
13. Are you spoilt?
A little, yes.
14. Do you want to get married?
No
15. When are you going to shop?
Never at all . . . shopping is damn boring
16. Would you like to meet Ronaldinho?
No. I'd prefer someone from the musical circle
17. What do you want for your birthday?
Nothing. Just let it pass quietly and don't let anybody make a ruckus out of it by throwing a celebration for me.
18. What you do want for Christmas?
Nothing . . . I don't celebrate Christmas
19. If you were to buy a car, what would it be?
I won't even buy a car . . . think of all the COE, ERP shit . . . not to mention the traffic summons . . .
20. If you were a car, what car would you choose to be?
Anything other than a Mazda 3 . . .
21. Do you have any piercing?
No
22. Would you get a tattoo?
No
23. How about a belly pierce?
No
24. Do you have any homework?
No . . . if the Army had I'd AWOL
25. MSN or Yahoo! Messenger?
MSN
26. Are you listening to any songs right now?
No
27. Do you believe in miracles?
I'm starting to have doubts in them . . .
28. Where do you want to go now?
Somewhere to study music . . .
29. Have you ever been to Bangladesh?
No
30. How are you feeling now?
Mixture of negative feelings . . .
¶ 3/22/2005 10:45:00 pm 0 comments
21/3/2005, 12:18am
2. Who are at home with you now?
My parents and my younger brother
3. Did you go out yesterday?
Yes - considering now it's Monday and "yesterday" was Sunday
4. Do you prefer durians or guavas?
Both
5. What time did you wake up today?
9:30++
6. Did you go anywhere?
Brahm Education Centre for practice with the Sorraco Musical Group, then to my maternal grandma's to collect some tonic drink
7. How old are you now?
Nearing twenty
8. Are you mature or immature?
Inmature
9. What do you call your mother?
Ma
10. Are you the only boy or girl in the family?
No.
11. What perfume or cologne are you using now?
I don't use
12. Do you use them everyday?
Please refer to the reply for the question above
13. Are you spoilt?
A little, yes.
14. Do you want to get married?
No
15. When are you going to shop?
Never at all . . . shopping is damn boring
16. Would you like to meet Ronaldinho?
No. I'd prefer someone from the musical circle
17. What do you want for your birthday?
Nothing. Just let it pass quietly and don't let anybody make a ruckus out of it by throwing a celebration for me.
18. What you do want for Christmas?
Nothing . . . I don't celebrate Christmas
19. If you were to buy a car, what would it be?
I won't even buy a car . . . think of all the COE, ERP shit . . . not to mention the traffic summons . . .
20. If you were a car, what car would you choose to be?
Anything other than a Mazda 3 . . .
21. Do you have any piercing?
No
22. Would you get a tattoo?
No
23. How about a belly pierce?
No
24. Do you have any homework?
No . . . if the Army had I'd AWOL
25. MSN or Yahoo! Messenger?
MSN
26. Are you listening to any songs right now?
No
27. Do you believe in miracles?
I'm starting to have doubts in them . . .
28. Where do you want to go now?
Somewhere to study music . . .
29. Have you ever been to Bangladesh?
No
30. How are you feeling now?
Mixture of negative feelings . . .
Teng Cheng before receiving the treatment named in honour him, executed by Sergeant Dex... so-called because that's the first time I've ever seen anyone being qia-ed so violently... photo courtesy of Dex
Posted by Hello ¶ 3/22/2005 10:23:00 pm 0 comments
The pride talk is so sian... photo courtesy of Dex
Posted by Hello ¶ 3/22/2005 10:21:00 pm 0 comments
Look... there are more sian people... photo courtesy of Dex
Posted by Hello ¶ 3/22/2005 10:20:00 pm 0 comments
... and Joel is so sian that he dozes off... photo courtesy of Dex
Posted by Hello ¶ 3/22/2005 10:19:00 pm 0 comments
Teng Cheng and Bee Kiat... so different personalities... photo courtesy of Dex.
Posted by Hello ¶ 3/22/2005 10:03:00 pm 0 comments
Monday, March 21, 2005
Sometimes technology can fuck itself up such that you become the frustrated victim at its feet.
I can avoid spending three hours at the Office of Admissions at NUS, if the Internet connection didn't screwed itself up and ended up displaying an error page, and if I didn't experienced the misfortune of pressing the backspace button and realising that I do not have a cursor and the entire page disappeared to show the previous one. Recovery is futile - I have to re-type the entire application form again.
I have no idea that I have to fill in some talent thing, which took up even more of my time. It takes up an even greater amount of my time just to write four mini essays. Worse still, there are no stools available at the Internet counter - I have to drag one of the chairs to the computer and sit on the armrest. I'm so afraid of being fucked for trying to spoil NUS furniture . . .
And I never check which printer I am to choose: I just click OK . . . and wonder why the hell the printer is taking so long to react. I mean, the printer's name states: "OAM" - obviously that's the Office of Admissions right?
Then, finally after I switch computers, I find out that it should be set to Epson - that's the brand of the printer at the computer terminal.
Shit. I think my application got printed out somewhere deep in the admissions office. And then someone else will be picking it up, looking through it even though it might not be his busy to view it in the first place and then laugh at it.
By the time I finish sending off the online application form, settling the processing bill of $10 and handing over my documents to the people there, it is nearly 3:30pm.
Three hours from the time I first arrive at University Hall.
Imagine how much they can actually earn: $10 per student. Think of how many students enter the university. Take that amount and multiply it by 10. And you get the sum of money they earn processing each batch of undergrads.
¶ 3/21/2005 09:50:00 pm 0 comments
I can avoid spending three hours at the Office of Admissions at NUS, if the Internet connection didn't screwed itself up and ended up displaying an error page, and if I didn't experienced the misfortune of pressing the backspace button and realising that I do not have a cursor and the entire page disappeared to show the previous one. Recovery is futile - I have to re-type the entire application form again.
I have no idea that I have to fill in some talent thing, which took up even more of my time. It takes up an even greater amount of my time just to write four mini essays. Worse still, there are no stools available at the Internet counter - I have to drag one of the chairs to the computer and sit on the armrest. I'm so afraid of being fucked for trying to spoil NUS furniture . . .
And I never check which printer I am to choose: I just click OK . . . and wonder why the hell the printer is taking so long to react. I mean, the printer's name states: "OAM" - obviously that's the Office of Admissions right?
Then, finally after I switch computers, I find out that it should be set to Epson - that's the brand of the printer at the computer terminal.
Shit. I think my application got printed out somewhere deep in the admissions office. And then someone else will be picking it up, looking through it even though it might not be his busy to view it in the first place and then laugh at it.
By the time I finish sending off the online application form, settling the processing bill of $10 and handing over my documents to the people there, it is nearly 3:30pm.
Three hours from the time I first arrive at University Hall.
Imagine how much they can actually earn: $10 per student. Think of how many students enter the university. Take that amount and multiply it by 10. And you get the sum of money they earn processing each batch of undergrads.
Introducing the launch of --- quizzic@to!, op. 6
I've just started a new blog to compile all the quizzes and surveys I've received through Friendster and through my email over time to share with everyone.
The URL: http://www.quizzicato.blogspot.com
Feel free to contribute more quizzes and surveys as well!
¶ 3/21/2005 10:31:00 am 0 comments
Wednesday, March 16, 2005
Sunday, March 13, 2005
--- I ---
The musical has been postponed to September, giving us more time to prepare. I've volunteered to write the overture and the incidental music... am eagerly awaiting the script and list of songs.
For the first time I get to jam in a sort of rock band. There's Dr Malcolm playing the electric bass; Bryan on the drum set, and me on the keyboard. As with the previous week, we play "Do-Re-Mi" and "What a Wonderful World" as our warm-up. The original score for "Wonderful World" is so, so, so different from what Louis Armstrong sings - the version that we're all familiar with, such that whenever we sing or play we'll definitely take up his intepretation.
And that's what everybody does. They heck the notes on the sheet music and go for Louis Armstrong's.
Dr Malcolm and Miss Lim emphasises on discipline. It is a necessity to know how to read the notes, and to follow the composer's original intentions, because we're singing in a choir, NOT solo. If everybody sings in unison but doesn't follow the given notes, we'll have everybody echoing all over the place. Probably some work that a modern 20th-century composer might attempt.
Anyway, in May, instead of the musical, we'll be performing at Ngee Ann City as part of some Vesak Day celebrations, the actual event I have no idea about. I'm hoping to plead for a piano. A REAL PIANO. Come on, there's a Kawai and Steinway and Sons showroom in the same building... maybe the mall's management can sponsor...? Anyway Ngee Ann Kongsi is like... damn bloody rich.
I'm only worried about the musical. It's in September. I have a major exercise then. If the musical falls in the same weekend as the exercise... HK...
--- II ---
I should note down all the great gift shops that offer interesting products that I may give as presents to others.
I always have a problem with gifts. I don't know what to buy. If it's for friends who are into music, I'd get them CDs. Even better, if I know their favourite composers or performers. For other people whom I'm not familiar with... jeez... it's a torture to look for things to buy. Usually I'd buy mugs... so if you receive a mug you'd probably guess it's from me...
Anyway this shop is at the CityLink mall. It's along this corridor where, at one end, is the Polar Cafe and 7-Eleven; the other end is a Japanese restaurant. It sells goods made of the fabric used to make Japanese kimonos. I tell you, it's the real thing. The real kimono fabric. And the items are hand-made. They include handbags, handphone pouches... I can't remember the name of the shop, but anyway the goods sold there are pretty interesting; the price is rather reasonable. I buy a... how do I call it... you know the thing you attach to your handphone, and when it rings, it glows? Okay, I don't know whether it glows, but it's something like that. Anyway, to dispel any thoughts that I am in a relationship or whatsoever, it's a birthday present for my mother, okay? But I'm just mentioning about it here as a suggestion for you people out there who are looking for special, unique gifts...
Rather than just mugs...
MUG-ger... :P ¶ 3/13/2005 08:28:00 pm 0 comments
The musical has been postponed to September, giving us more time to prepare. I've volunteered to write the overture and the incidental music... am eagerly awaiting the script and list of songs.
For the first time I get to jam in a sort of rock band. There's Dr Malcolm playing the electric bass; Bryan on the drum set, and me on the keyboard. As with the previous week, we play "Do-Re-Mi" and "What a Wonderful World" as our warm-up. The original score for "Wonderful World" is so, so, so different from what Louis Armstrong sings - the version that we're all familiar with, such that whenever we sing or play we'll definitely take up his intepretation.
And that's what everybody does. They heck the notes on the sheet music and go for Louis Armstrong's.
Dr Malcolm and Miss Lim emphasises on discipline. It is a necessity to know how to read the notes, and to follow the composer's original intentions, because we're singing in a choir, NOT solo. If everybody sings in unison but doesn't follow the given notes, we'll have everybody echoing all over the place. Probably some work that a modern 20th-century composer might attempt.
Anyway, in May, instead of the musical, we'll be performing at Ngee Ann City as part of some Vesak Day celebrations, the actual event I have no idea about. I'm hoping to plead for a piano. A REAL PIANO. Come on, there's a Kawai and Steinway and Sons showroom in the same building... maybe the mall's management can sponsor...? Anyway Ngee Ann Kongsi is like... damn bloody rich.
I'm only worried about the musical. It's in September. I have a major exercise then. If the musical falls in the same weekend as the exercise... HK...
--- II ---
I should note down all the great gift shops that offer interesting products that I may give as presents to others.
I always have a problem with gifts. I don't know what to buy. If it's for friends who are into music, I'd get them CDs. Even better, if I know their favourite composers or performers. For other people whom I'm not familiar with... jeez... it's a torture to look for things to buy. Usually I'd buy mugs... so if you receive a mug you'd probably guess it's from me...
Anyway this shop is at the CityLink mall. It's along this corridor where, at one end, is the Polar Cafe and 7-Eleven; the other end is a Japanese restaurant. It sells goods made of the fabric used to make Japanese kimonos. I tell you, it's the real thing. The real kimono fabric. And the items are hand-made. They include handbags, handphone pouches... I can't remember the name of the shop, but anyway the goods sold there are pretty interesting; the price is rather reasonable. I buy a... how do I call it... you know the thing you attach to your handphone, and when it rings, it glows? Okay, I don't know whether it glows, but it's something like that. Anyway, to dispel any thoughts that I am in a relationship or whatsoever, it's a birthday present for my mother, okay? But I'm just mentioning about it here as a suggestion for you people out there who are looking for special, unique gifts...
Rather than just mugs...
MUG-ger... :P ¶ 3/13/2005 08:28:00 pm 0 comments
Dear readers . . .
Apologies that I haven't been updating my blog for a long, long, long, long (one long constitutes a week) time. I am now enjoying a tight schedule of composition, arrangement and performance. I've just joined the musical group of the Buddhist Fellowship called Sorraco, and we are performing at Ngee Ann City around Vesak Day and staging a musical in September. At the same time, I am preparing portfolios for numerous people. On top of that, I am practising God-knows-what's Bossa Nova and Rhumba and whatsoever musical styles. And at the very summit . . . I am still composing, particularly on the musical "Red-Threaded Hearts" . . .
Apologies for any inconvenience caused . . .
¶ 3/13/2005 12:09:00 am 0 comments
Saturday, March 12, 2005
I didn't want to go for the NUS Open House. My parents insist that I go and attend the talks for the Conservatory, the University Scholars' Programme and the Faculty of Arts and Social Sciences (FASS). To cap my freedom in playing truant, they drive me there.
I fear I might run into people that I recognise (which I do). Fortunately, most of the people from my batch - rather, the majority - have signed on to their courses and some are already in the midst of their studies (the girls, really). Stony-faced and appearing uninterested to show my reluctance at coming for the carnival (well, it's designed like a carnival!), I tread quickly to the venue for the Conservatory talk, ignoring people asking me if I were interested in this or that . . .
Talk about acting dao(1).
Okay, nothing special about the talk - Dr Ho Chee Kong just went about the stuff that would have appeared on the website - requirements, eligibility, course of study, life at the Conservatory. But there are interesting snippets of information that I catch on. For instance, why is the population of the Conservatory so small? That's because the interim building is so damn fucking small that if they admitted more students everyone would have been fighting for the practice rooms.
And what's the ratio of Singapore to international students? 2:8. 20% Singaporeans, 80% International.
The foreign talent problem doesn’t just occur at the schools and workplaces. It happens here too. Believe it.
And one thing that I applaud greatly and give a standing ovation: the need to be familiar with the instrument you are playing on. Why does the Conservatory spend so much money on acquiring Steinway grands for their practice rooms? Because: the majority of halls in the world own a Steinway, coming from the manufacturer's reputation. Hence, the Conservatory has Steinways for professional pianists-in-training to get used to the instrument so that when they play at another venue, despite the difference in acoustics, the piano is some good ol' familiar creature that they were once thought to love during their university - I mean, conservatory - days.
I don't stay for the Scholar's Programme talk, which takes place right after the Conservatory one at the same venue. I'm put off by the thought of sitting through it, particularly after I have been motivated by the beautiful thought of doing music for four years. I'm so crazy about music that I can't get it out . . . it takes precedence over everything else. Like now, I forgo my rest and social life, just to concentrate on music during the weekends. Saturdays and Sundays are very precious to me. I have a greater probability of doing music almost uninterrupted. What social life do I have? "Hey, there's a concert coming up . . . you want to go? No? Okay, never mind. I'll still go myself." Because the music is too tempting.
I'm sorry that I have to say this, but well, I'm just crazy about it.
After the Conservatory talk, I head to the hall where the various faculties have set up booths. At the FASS one, I get a general information booklet describing the FASS - about the requirements, what is done there, what the subjects offered are and so on. That's sufficient for my knowledge. Anyway FASS is more of a safety net in case I can't get into the Conservatory, or get a scholarship to go overseas to study music.
I decide to give the FASS talk a miss as well. I don't feel tempted to attend it. I just want to leave, go to the Esplanade, which I have not been to for almost a month.
I never attend Open Houses. I have an idea of what I want to do, what is my Plan B, all I need is how to get into the faculty, information on the courses and what I'll obtain at the end. I'm not interested in what university life has to offer. That, I can decide about after I get in. Most probably I'll spend my free time doing music - if I get into the FASS, that is. If I am in the Conservatory, then it's 24/7 music. Work from the Conservatory, as well as engagements from other people.
I've got it all mapped out. Come following Tuesday I will head down to the Office of Admissions to sign up for a place at FASS. In the meanwhile, I'll apply for scholarships and see if I can land one that will send me overseas to study music. Who gives the fuck if I'm bonded? Music is my passion and I will gladly serve my passion. And I will work on my portfolio for submission to the Conservatory or any other institutions abroad. I'm having trouble picking the pieces though. "Xin Chao" and "Toccata for String Quartet" are on my confirmed list.
I'm going to work hard now.
