Sinfonia da Vita, Op. 1
Monday, July 24, 2006
Well done August, well done!
I intend to head down to NUS today to buy the Prospectus from the Co-op (the book and stationary store in NUS), before I make my way to join others for dinner and a movie.
As usual the lazy donkey procrastinates, and leaves the house at 6:00pm instead of 5 as originally planned. Hence the trip to the post office to mail my brother's parcel to the US has to be cancelled. I call Mum, "I left the house late, I don't have time to mail the parcel..."
"Never mind, do it tomorrow."
So I travel to NUS.
Oh shitty shit shit! It's 6:45pm - 45 minutes to get to the Co-op, grab the books and dash down to Dhoby Ghaut.
In that desperation I forget when the Co-Op actually closes.
Well done.
So I get on 96 for the ride to the campus. I get off one stop earlier, thinking the next bus stop must be damn far from the Central Library, where the Co-op is located. No, the bus-stop is slightly - only a tweeny-weeny bit slightly - up front. A shorter walk and a less of a drudgery of a walk (because the walk from there leads downhill to my destination. So obviously at the stop where I get off I am going uphill...)
Well done.
Finally I'm here. The Co-op is closed! Damnit!
Suddenly it dawns on me that the Co-op closes at seven. It's now 7:10pm.
Feeling irritated with myself, I actually wander around in hope that the Co-op will suddenly open. And time is running out for me to meet the guys at Dhoby Ghaut!
I dash to the nearby Kent Ridge bus terminal to catch a bus to Harbourfront. On the journey I read "Exit Visa". It is so darn exciting that I hardly once glance up from it. And I nearly miss my stop at Harbourfront.
Well done.
I run to the station entrance - only to discover people wearing those orange luminous safety vests. The shutters are half-down, there is a piece of paper stuck onto the grille. The LED sign above, instead of showing the arrival times of trains, only reads, "Station Closed". The orange-clad staff are turning people away, pointing to some place to take a shuttle bus instead.
But I don't see any red-and-black SMRT buses, so I decide to hail a cab instead. Oops, Northeast Line is run by SBS Transit.
Well done.
The taxi ride to Paradiz Centre costs $10.00. Such a short journey - and that expensive!
Well done.
* * *
I wasn't exactly keen on Pirates of the Caribbean, and I hadn't watched the first one. I'm not really a sucker for action films. I've watched Superman and Batman and a bit of Harry Potter here and there (on television) but this genre doesn't excite me as much as spoofs (e.g. Spaceballs, Airplane and all the other stupidly lame stuff) or satires (eg Thank You for Smoking).
I think I am wrong. I pretty much enjoyed the show, for only two good reasons:
1. Johnn Depp. He plays this ah-kua (slightly sissy in local terms) pirate called Jack Sparrow who is apt to run into unforseen circumstances one after the other but manages to steer (pun unintended) out of trouble most of the time. Except the last bit, when he gets eaten by the Kraken. But he's such an interesting and eccentric character, and together with his equally weirdo and eccentric and crazy crew, it's a draw to watch the movie.
2. The sight of so many people sighting a Dead Man's Chest (again, pun unintended). Quote Lord of the Rings: "One chest to rule them all!" In fact it's the thing that's inside that everybody wants. So you see all these people fighting one another and you really wonder who ought to be attacked? In this case it's probably defensive fighting because it's "each to his own, I don't give a shit about what you want".
Then it takes a girl to stop all the fighting. And she has to pretend to get hit and faint so that so man will melt and play the hero, but none of the men bother about her. Talk about chivalry hahaha.
So much for a heart.
I think it's so ironic that they mention Singapore in the "Pirates of the Carribean", because there are pirates in the Straits of Malacca (real maritime pirates) and those who peddle illegal discs in the heartlands of Singapore.
* * *
It dawns on me that the Co-op closes at six during school holidays. We're in the middle of term break. That means it's closed from the moment I step foot out of my house.
Well done, August. Well done.
¶ 7/24/2006 11:55:00 pm 0 comments
I intend to head down to NUS today to buy the Prospectus from the Co-op (the book and stationary store in NUS), before I make my way to join others for dinner and a movie.
As usual the lazy donkey procrastinates, and leaves the house at 6:00pm instead of 5 as originally planned. Hence the trip to the post office to mail my brother's parcel to the US has to be cancelled. I call Mum, "I left the house late, I don't have time to mail the parcel..."
"Never mind, do it tomorrow."
So I travel to NUS.
Oh shitty shit shit! It's 6:45pm - 45 minutes to get to the Co-op, grab the books and dash down to Dhoby Ghaut.
In that desperation I forget when the Co-Op actually closes.
Well done.
So I get on 96 for the ride to the campus. I get off one stop earlier, thinking the next bus stop must be damn far from the Central Library, where the Co-op is located. No, the bus-stop is slightly - only a tweeny-weeny bit slightly - up front. A shorter walk and a less of a drudgery of a walk (because the walk from there leads downhill to my destination. So obviously at the stop where I get off I am going uphill...)
Well done.
Finally I'm here. The Co-op is closed! Damnit!
Suddenly it dawns on me that the Co-op closes at seven. It's now 7:10pm.
Feeling irritated with myself, I actually wander around in hope that the Co-op will suddenly open. And time is running out for me to meet the guys at Dhoby Ghaut!
I dash to the nearby Kent Ridge bus terminal to catch a bus to Harbourfront. On the journey I read "Exit Visa". It is so darn exciting that I hardly once glance up from it. And I nearly miss my stop at Harbourfront.
Well done.
I run to the station entrance - only to discover people wearing those orange luminous safety vests. The shutters are half-down, there is a piece of paper stuck onto the grille. The LED sign above, instead of showing the arrival times of trains, only reads, "Station Closed". The orange-clad staff are turning people away, pointing to some place to take a shuttle bus instead.
But I don't see any red-and-black SMRT buses, so I decide to hail a cab instead. Oops, Northeast Line is run by SBS Transit.
Well done.
The taxi ride to Paradiz Centre costs $10.00. Such a short journey - and that expensive!
Well done.
* * *
I wasn't exactly keen on Pirates of the Caribbean, and I hadn't watched the first one. I'm not really a sucker for action films. I've watched Superman and Batman and a bit of Harry Potter here and there (on television) but this genre doesn't excite me as much as spoofs (e.g. Spaceballs, Airplane and all the other stupidly lame stuff) or satires (eg Thank You for Smoking).
I think I am wrong. I pretty much enjoyed the show, for only two good reasons:
1. Johnn Depp. He plays this ah-kua (slightly sissy in local terms) pirate called Jack Sparrow who is apt to run into unforseen circumstances one after the other but manages to steer (pun unintended) out of trouble most of the time. Except the last bit, when he gets eaten by the Kraken. But he's such an interesting and eccentric character, and together with his equally weirdo and eccentric and crazy crew, it's a draw to watch the movie.
2. The sight of so many people sighting a Dead Man's Chest (again, pun unintended). Quote Lord of the Rings: "One chest to rule them all!" In fact it's the thing that's inside that everybody wants. So you see all these people fighting one another and you really wonder who ought to be attacked? In this case it's probably defensive fighting because it's "each to his own, I don't give a shit about what you want".
Then it takes a girl to stop all the fighting. And she has to pretend to get hit and faint so that so man will melt and play the hero, but none of the men bother about her. Talk about chivalry hahaha.
So much for a heart.
I think it's so ironic that they mention Singapore in the "Pirates of the Carribean", because there are pirates in the Straits of Malacca (real maritime pirates) and those who peddle illegal discs in the heartlands of Singapore.
* * *
It dawns on me that the Co-op closes at six during school holidays. We're in the middle of term break. That means it's closed from the moment I step foot out of my house.
Well done, August. Well done.
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
The Singapore Lyric Opera, NUS Centre for the Arts, NAFA Music Department and Mr Leow Siak Fah present
A Concert Reading of excerpts from
FENCES OF THE HEART
An Opera
Music by John Sharpley
Libretto by Robert Yeo
Based on a storyline conceptualised by Leow Siak Fah
NUS Centre for the Arts
19 July 2006, 7:30pm
Singapore
Some comments from my friends and I:
1. In the aria TORN, it is not understood why Nora uses Malay words, especially after she has been in England for a pretty long time and is more likely to go with the English way of life.
2. Not sure if it was the choice of arias for this excerpted reading, but the middle was terribly slow that I lost focus of the work.
3. Witty play of words and music together, e.g. "Tengku Abdul Rahman" and "Lee Kuan Yew" and how Nora and Steven banter in the opening scene
4. Interesting harmonies, particularly love them in "A Home is not a Hotel" – coupled with the lush orchestration it just sweeps one off into the air. Quirky bits of orchestration here and there, I couldn’t stop laughing especially in the Prologue.
5. Singers should have been more careful about singing important words correctly. For instance Mrs Lee sang "Chinese girls" liking Indian girls, which, if there wasn’t a copy of the libretto flashed onto the screen we’d all presume and digest this new fact that Chinese girls in those days are lesbians. And Mr Lee should be more careful about singing "England" rather than "China" because again, without the script it makes no sense, especially when Mrs Lee reiterates that "China is just a dream".
6. Choir parts quite uninteresting, which made the music and the show half as grand.
7. Don't understand why that kind of "traditional" Chinese-styled music was chosen for Mr and Mrs Lee – very stereotypical effect. The music those people listened to then would be Mandarin pop favourites of that era, perhaps Dr Sharpley could research into music of that era. For the gamelan too, a bit inappropriate since it's a modern Malay family in Malaysia, and the gamelan is indigenous to Indonesia.
8. Not a terribly interesting story – the middle part is taken up by conversations between Steven/Nora and the respective parents as they argue to come to a conclusion. I dread sitting through listening to such stuff all the way.
9. Weird to hear the Malay words sung in an operatic manner.
¶ 7/19/2006 11:21:00 pm 0 comments
A Concert Reading of excerpts from
FENCES OF THE HEART
An Opera
Music by John Sharpley
Libretto by Robert Yeo
Based on a storyline conceptualised by Leow Siak Fah
NUS Centre for the Arts
19 July 2006, 7:30pm
Singapore
Some comments from my friends and I:
1. In the aria TORN, it is not understood why Nora uses Malay words, especially after she has been in England for a pretty long time and is more likely to go with the English way of life.
2. Not sure if it was the choice of arias for this excerpted reading, but the middle was terribly slow that I lost focus of the work.
3. Witty play of words and music together, e.g. "Tengku Abdul Rahman" and "Lee Kuan Yew" and how Nora and Steven banter in the opening scene
4. Interesting harmonies, particularly love them in "A Home is not a Hotel" – coupled with the lush orchestration it just sweeps one off into the air. Quirky bits of orchestration here and there, I couldn’t stop laughing especially in the Prologue.
5. Singers should have been more careful about singing important words correctly. For instance Mrs Lee sang "Chinese girls" liking Indian girls, which, if there wasn’t a copy of the libretto flashed onto the screen we’d all presume and digest this new fact that Chinese girls in those days are lesbians. And Mr Lee should be more careful about singing "England" rather than "China" because again, without the script it makes no sense, especially when Mrs Lee reiterates that "China is just a dream".
6. Choir parts quite uninteresting, which made the music and the show half as grand.
7. Don't understand why that kind of "traditional" Chinese-styled music was chosen for Mr and Mrs Lee – very stereotypical effect. The music those people listened to then would be Mandarin pop favourites of that era, perhaps Dr Sharpley could research into music of that era. For the gamelan too, a bit inappropriate since it's a modern Malay family in Malaysia, and the gamelan is indigenous to Indonesia.
8. Not a terribly interesting story – the middle part is taken up by conversations between Steven/Nora and the respective parents as they argue to come to a conclusion. I dread sitting through listening to such stuff all the way.
9. Weird to hear the Malay words sung in an operatic manner.
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
I meet SY and Elle (Michelle Teo) for dinner today. Elle and I are starting school soon, so SY is going to tell us more about the NUS modular and bidding system. I am carrying my laptop so that we can access Internet from whichever eatery we are at and visit the respective websites for an idea what they look like.
I’m meeting SY at 7:15pm at City Hall MRT (Elle's going there straight by bus), so I leave the house at 7. Walking to the station I realise my bag is unusually light. Something is not there. I check, and I discover I haven’t taken the power adaptor along! I think the battery's not going to last – I have no idea how long we are going to use the computer, but anyway it's better to carry the adaptor along JUST IN CASE.
So I turn back for home, a short walk away from my station, to pick up the adaptor.
I board the train.
Two stops away, I’m thinking something is still amiss.
The battery . . . the battery . . .
I check my laptop.
!!! THE BATTERY!!!
There is a gap where the battery should be. I normally take the battery out after charging it at home in order to prolong its life. Normally I remember to put it back before I leave the house. Today I forget . . .
EXCUSES, EXCUSES, EXCUSES.
I have to get out of the train and take another back home.
I finally arrive at the City Hall Station half an hour later and SY is laughing at me.
* * *
We meet Elle at Millennia Walk and settle for this eatery called Uberburger.
If it’s anything it’s the menus. They are so IRRITATING to read. No pictures (fine) but the way the price is described is outrageous. And inconsistent.
In the first instance, $4.80 (as an example) is written as "four $ 80". It takes some while to figure out the code – fortunately not as complicated and abstract as the Fibonacci sequence.
In another instance, it states "9fifty $". So does it mean $950 or $9.50? Common sense will tell you it’s the latter, but you can't be too sure because such establishments (especially those that are not local) may have tricks up their sleeves.
Sorry if I'm being anal here, because the menu is really PISSING. One thing to say: TRYING TO BE SMART. But it backfires. We want simple menus where we can read and understand the text – especially the price – clearly. We don’t want such a case when the bill arrives: "Hey, I thought it was this price–"
Sorry lah. As they say in the army, "You thought then who think?"
The waiter will probably say, "Sorry sir, it’s written there in the menu." Then he will probably point to the print to make his point that you misunderstood what the establishment has been trying to sell you.
A TIP IF YOU ARE A FIRST-TIMER THERE: never underestimate the portions because they are freaking huge. Don’t be fooled by the notion of "one handful of fries" because it comes in a bucket and it's probably Hagrid’s kind of handful (or slightly more).
* * *
When I go out to eat I don't like to be bothered by those sort of high-class etiquette stuff. But I have to now. I presume the waiters are giving me queer looks from the colloquial way I order my food: "What the hell is this heartlander doing in such an establishment?"
I admit I'm quite a local at heart, despite differences such as taking an uncommon (and likely condemned by Singaporeans) career path, and not living in the HDB heartlands proper. I like to drink kopi-o – not much difference from Espresso. But I get put off when I go to a coffee joint like Starbucks or Coffee Club and I have to figure out the difference between a latte and a cappuccino. Sometimes I just feel like going up to the cashier and telling him/her: "Give me a cup of coffee, thanks. Black coffee."
No fine-dining for me, thanks!
¶ 7/11/2006 11:42:00 pm 0 comments
I’m meeting SY at 7:15pm at City Hall MRT (Elle's going there straight by bus), so I leave the house at 7. Walking to the station I realise my bag is unusually light. Something is not there. I check, and I discover I haven’t taken the power adaptor along! I think the battery's not going to last – I have no idea how long we are going to use the computer, but anyway it's better to carry the adaptor along JUST IN CASE.
So I turn back for home, a short walk away from my station, to pick up the adaptor.
I board the train.
Two stops away, I’m thinking something is still amiss.
The battery . . . the battery . . .
I check my laptop.
!!! THE BATTERY!!!
There is a gap where the battery should be. I normally take the battery out after charging it at home in order to prolong its life. Normally I remember to put it back before I leave the house. Today I forget . . .
EXCUSES, EXCUSES, EXCUSES.
I have to get out of the train and take another back home.
I finally arrive at the City Hall Station half an hour later and SY is laughing at me.
* * *
We meet Elle at Millennia Walk and settle for this eatery called Uberburger.
If it’s anything it’s the menus. They are so IRRITATING to read. No pictures (fine) but the way the price is described is outrageous. And inconsistent.
In the first instance, $4.80 (as an example) is written as "four $ 80". It takes some while to figure out the code – fortunately not as complicated and abstract as the Fibonacci sequence.
In another instance, it states "9fifty $". So does it mean $950 or $9.50? Common sense will tell you it’s the latter, but you can't be too sure because such establishments (especially those that are not local) may have tricks up their sleeves.
Sorry if I'm being anal here, because the menu is really PISSING. One thing to say: TRYING TO BE SMART. But it backfires. We want simple menus where we can read and understand the text – especially the price – clearly. We don’t want such a case when the bill arrives: "Hey, I thought it was this price–"
Sorry lah. As they say in the army, "You thought then who think?"
The waiter will probably say, "Sorry sir, it’s written there in the menu." Then he will probably point to the print to make his point that you misunderstood what the establishment has been trying to sell you.
A TIP IF YOU ARE A FIRST-TIMER THERE: never underestimate the portions because they are freaking huge. Don’t be fooled by the notion of "one handful of fries" because it comes in a bucket and it's probably Hagrid’s kind of handful (or slightly more).
* * *
When I go out to eat I don't like to be bothered by those sort of high-class etiquette stuff. But I have to now. I presume the waiters are giving me queer looks from the colloquial way I order my food: "What the hell is this heartlander doing in such an establishment?"
I admit I'm quite a local at heart, despite differences such as taking an uncommon (and likely condemned by Singaporeans) career path, and not living in the HDB heartlands proper. I like to drink kopi-o – not much difference from Espresso. But I get put off when I go to a coffee joint like Starbucks or Coffee Club and I have to figure out the difference between a latte and a cappuccino. Sometimes I just feel like going up to the cashier and telling him/her: "Give me a cup of coffee, thanks. Black coffee."
No fine-dining for me, thanks!
Tuesday, July 04, 2006
I did the music for this short film called CRACK.
CRACK premieres this evening at the Guinness Theatre at the Substation. It is part of FIRST TAKE, where first-time directors can submit their short films for screening. It occurs on the first Tuesday of every month.
The music was done library-style, meaning I compose (or rather, sequence) one whole chunk of music with just the mood in mind, and the directors will extract bits and pieces of this entire chunk to be placed at appropriate moments in the film. The full sequence can be found on my Multiply site: http://sibelius2.multiply.com/music
http://www.substation.org/substation/events/index.html
CRACK premieres this evening at the Guinness Theatre at the Substation. It is part of FIRST TAKE, where first-time directors can submit their short films for screening. It occurs on the first Tuesday of every month.
The music was done library-style, meaning I compose (or rather, sequence) one whole chunk of music with just the mood in mind, and the directors will extract bits and pieces of this entire chunk to be placed at appropriate moments in the film. The full sequence can be found on my Multiply site: http://sibelius2.multiply.com/music
http://www.substation.org/substation/events/index.html
CRACK
Directed by: AU CHUN BOON, LIM CHEE HAN MIKE, SIM SI YING and DEREK TAN
2006 / 10mins
SYNOPSIS: Jasmine is reunited with her ex-boyfriend Ben after suddenly disappearing from school years ago, suddenly appearing at his apartment one night with her luggage and her sister’s baby. Their relationship quickly deteriorates when Ben suspects Jasmine’s absence previously had to do with a terrible vice . . .
Source: programme sheet of FIRST TAKE
