I am at Lucky Plaza on Tuesday to do my fieldtrip report for Southeast Asian studies. We're tasked to visit one of the hangouts where the foreigners from the region hang out on their off-days. Between Golden Mile (Thai), Peninsular Plaza (Myanmar) and Lucky Plaza (Filipino). I pick Lucky Plaza as (1) I'm most familiar with the layout, (2) I want to dispel the myth that Lucky Plaza is not just a Filipino place only on Sundays, but a Filipino support infrastructure exists in the mall. The latter reason, I have to admit, is the convenience of the ammunition I need to convince myself to visit Lucky Plaza on a weekday - Sunday would have been the time when a huge crowd of Filipinos are likely to be there - after all, it's the day off work!

I bring my camera with me, but I decide not to use it in case someone - or worse still, a group of people - try to find trouble with me using the camera on them or their property. I want to look less prominent. I traverse the corridors like a shopper, while mentally noting objects of interest that I want to write about.

So here's my report which I submit to my tutor:

Lucky Plaza: How Pinoy Is It?

I know Lucky Plaza as one of the hangouts for the Southeast Asian émigré, but I am not sure if there are going to be Filipinos around on a weekday (Tuesday). The expatriates usually go to their usual meeting place on a Sunday when they are off work. Perhaps a stereotype, but I am determined to dispel myth by visiting Lucky Plaza shopping centre, the hangout for the Pinoys (Filipinos), on a weekday evening.

From the makeup of the shops around the mall, one can see how Lucky Plaza is more than a hangout and a meeting place. It is a commune where the Filipino in Singapore enjoys a physical and spiritual reminder of their homeland. A high density of Filipino commercial and service outlets are most noticeably found on the third and fourth floors of the mall, where they occupy lots side by side running almost the entire lengths of the mall. The use of Tagalog is prominent on shop signage and posters; some shop names even contain a variation of the word “Philippines”. These establishments transmit the physical entities of home to the émigré in the form of food, music, consumer goods and so on. Some establishments go out to help their fellow people: remittance centres, delivery services, travel and employment agencies, money changers and even organisations that lend a hand in helping their fellows deal with bureaucratic and immigration procedures. Some of these outlets are manned by Filipinos themselves – this is comforting for the worker who requires support in maintaining contact with their loved ones back home, as well as the additional trust in sending back precious hard-earned money.

When I arrive at about half-past six, there are few Filipinos to be spotted. However, this figure increases past seven. Occasionally I see whole families. Cliques occupy tables inside Filippino cafes for dinner. The Filipino crowd is not just restricted to Sundays. Lucky Plaza is a place that they depend on to fulfil their errands, to socialise and to be close to a piece of home when home is far away, at all times of the weeks.

My first attempt to snap the tunnel (see the more successful picture below) but resulted in a lot of perspectives being captured through the looking glass.



This is the tunnel from which the train enters the station. It happens that the flourescent light on the wall of the tunnel has been left on - I am able to look inside and hence take this picture for interest's sake.

No, that long white line is NOT the train!

*** *** ***

Imagine Singapore, like Paris, has a gargantuan series of catacombs under its streets, because land is scarce, hence the space beneath the surface is utilised. Itchy-feet you decided to go exploring in the catacombs, despite the warnings of family and friends and strangers, and you deservedly got lost in the tunnels, and your handphone has absolutely no reception.

After what seems like ages (up to your imagination how long you'd like that to be), you suddenly come across an opening which leads to the subway line. You follow this line, lo and behold! A station! Civilisation after eons! You hope to meet fellow people and enjoy aircon after breathing dank and stale air in the tunnels.

To your dismay, you see the following sign on the door:

Damn I'm horrible. Been posting stuff but I never actually check the blog :P

A website with lots of funny photoshopped pictures:

http://www.tomtwine.com/pshop.html

Why the Pig is Last in the Zodiac



The rat came first, but it’s still a dirty rat, sooner or later it’s going to be poisoned and then drowned. So he’s out.

The ox: hardworking, but in this competitive environment where creativity makes a difference, being hard-working alone is not enough. You need to make a difference to the company. Sorry old values alone can’t stay.

The tiger: too aggressive, everybody else will conspire against him.

The rabbit: quit to set up his own brand of sweets. He’s got a cameo in the upcoming Beatrix Potter movie too.

The dragon: old master, retired. In a high position as emeritus but in reality a puppet, maneuvered by about a dozen humans to resounding percussion.

The snake: slipped off somewhere unnoticed to slack. Won’t last for long too

The horse: they’re got great careers at the racecourse, who needs them?

The goat: eaten by the troll

The monkey: decided to move to the Bukit Timah Hills – free food from the humans.

The rooster: culled by the recent crackdown by authorities

The dog: bought by humans and then abandoned, currently living as a destitute in the SPCA

The pig: currently in power after overthrowing the humans*. Leads a life of tyranny, happily slaughtering others, before it can become salami#

So moral of the story: the pig may look like some harmless thing at the end of the line, but NEVER UNDERESTIMATE HIM


Picture source: http://aminsabeti.persiangig.com/images/06/Animal-Farm.jpg



Happy *tok-tok-chiang* New Year





*Animal farm: the pig Napoleon is a representation of Stalin, while the other pig Snowball enacts Trotsky, who was purged by Stalin – both are Communists
#The Communists employed salami tactics in their acquisition of European states between the Soviet Union and East Germany, using ‘constitutional’ means to oust their opponents and seize power

Just heard Joey Yung's Chinese song whose chorus begins "Believe me I can fly / I'm singing in the sky..." and suddenly I have the wicked urge to create a song just the opposite: as some Chinese songs have English verses within them, how about an English song with Chinese verses?

And so this is my take. The theme? Appropriately love knows no languages (but languages know love)

GUY:
你不说英语 (you don't speak English... yes I know this is bad English, but it's just a direct translation dammit!)
It doesn't really matter

If we can understand our hearts

GIRL:
You don't speak Chinese
没关系，只要我们俩了解对方在想什么 (never mind, as long as both of us understand what each other is thinking)

BOTH:

Love can transcend boundaries
No matter nationality (yes I know this line is the WORST of all)
I can read your mind...

CHORUS (not written, haven't decided on the weightage between English and Chinese as of yet...)

From an email by Loh Wei... gawd this is FUNNY. Students really have creativity, and this rebellious spirit against a stoic authority... I LIKE

Tan Jie-Yi, Jolene
1985-2007



Dear Jolene

We have known each other since Primary One when we were in the same class (up till Primary Four). Thereafter our paths crossed again in Junior College, and we were in the same class again. Remember in Primary One both of us were sort-of the leaders of the class as monitors?

Your optimism and brightness always concealed any unhappiness. Those are the traits I remember best.

May you rest in peace. I know that you are still with us and may our paths cross again one day.



Cherish them when they’re here with you
But don’t cling on when they’ve to go
One day they must leave you
Just as one day you’ll leave them too

~~~ Quek Hui Ling: Letting Them Go

Spotted on the third floor of a small shopping mall along South Buona Vista Road.

Night at the Studio

For the first time somebody at Scrawl Studio burns the animatics for Milly and Molly in the wrong format! And we do not realise it until we load it onto Pro Tools... viola! Pro Tools cannot open it!

We perform the conversion at the studio computer. Waste of time.

Conversion fails. Mike calls Scrawl to burn another copy, this time in the correct format.

6:30pm I set off for Scrawl again. I was there in the morning for a long-distance conference call with Australia, where the head honchos for M&M are based. Before I left Scrawl, I promised, "Okay, the music tomorrow..." (i.e. Friday afternoon before I head for school)

Now Scrawl is no longer at Pagoda Street, which would have been a short, pleasant walk from Stereo Image, which is at Maxwell. They've moved to Sim Lim Towers, and Bugis/Waterloo Street is not exactly a fun place to walk about... in the rush hour crowd it takes me an hour to get there and back.

What to do? Have to stay overnight at the studio to work, die-die must hand in the music tomorrow. And I do not have the audio interface required to operate Pro Tools (I already have the software installed in my computer). So I hold the keys from Mike and camp in the studio to finish the music, not intending to sleep until I complete.

I realise air-conditioning is very effective in staying awake. If I attempt such at home, I usually conk out by 4pm, even if I have drunk coffee for supper and begin work in the most alert state. Amazingly I feel fresh tonight. I work non-stop till about 5am, when I bounce out the music and send it to Scrawl. Then across the road to Maxwell Food Centre for breakfast, and back to the studio to concuss while waiting for Mike to arrive so I can hand him back his keys.

So I've been sleeping here and there... nevertheless I'm pretty much freshened up by the time I head to school for lectures in the afternoon.



Some pictures from Stereo Image:



3:06am and still working... hell lot of music tracks on Pro Tools ready to be inserted with the animation.

Former live-room, now converted into arrangement room.

Two jokers outside Scrawl Studio's (local animation house) office; the third joker is holding the camera.

On the left, my boss Mr Michael Koh, owner of Stereoimage Productions; on the right, Mr Wong Chi Kong, executive producer for Scrawl Studios.

I realise that the main bulk of my compositional output lately have been songs for the masses. I've effectively stopped composing concert works (symphonic, chamber, solos etc.) that when I tried to attempt such compositions last year I was badly stumped halfway in writing, because I just didn't know how to develop my thoughts. Therefore it resulted in many rewrites - in piano-reduction sketch-form.

There exists a Jekyll and Hyde in my work: music slanted towards mass consumerism and music that is a direct translation of how my fickle mind actually behaves. Sometimes I try to marry the two: self-expression under the cover of a catchy (-enough) tune that will at least beg people to accept it. But lately, writing more songs ever than before, I am starting to drift towards mass consumerism and ditching self-expression almost effectively, even though I am still requesting for lyrics first before I put a tune to it, because to me the music not only compliments but augments the lyrics as well. Musical-theatre-style, because there's a story - the song exists within a context? Composers of the past - the great German lieder writers like Schubert, Schumann, Mahler, and the opera composers - have been working in this way.

Still I am caught in the dilemma between creating music that the audience likes and what I really like. My only escape is film and animation media, as well as underscoring for theatre productions. Nobody really pays attention to the music at this point - the focus is on the whole effect, and we're talking about the acting, the scenery, the costumes, the lines, the music - everything else. It's a wholesome experience. Until people buy the soundtrack and listen without the distraction of sights do they really pay attention to what you have written.

Maybe that's why I like to arrange music more than composition. In an arrangement you have something there to pique your creative element. You don't have to worry about audience because the composer ought to know what he wants. You're only dressing up the music so that more people will like it. And it makes me proud when someone's song which I have arranged receives favourable comment, because I had helped in the production process.

Listen to my purely-instrumental compositions, and then compare with the songs I have written that you know, be it from the musicals or somewhere else...

Game Soundtrack Demo http://sibelius2.multiply.com/music/item/37
A Child's Concise History of Garden City http://sibelius2.multiply.com/music/item/19
Xin Chao http://sibelius2.multiply.com/music/item/9

All my photos for the Ho Chi Minh City Trip (15-18 December 2006) are up!

http://www.exitvisa.multiply.com

For the journal, only that of the first day has been time. Am trying to find time to write about the remaining three days. Meanwhile you can indulge in the photos first.

YES! I finished the wretched song! I've taken nearly 9 months to come up with a tune that I really like and can be satisfied with.

Have picked up the courage to pen lyrics myself again, finished the text to title song for Buddhist Fellowship's Vesak play/musical called Passage of Time. Here are the lyrics:



Passage of Time
Words and Music by me

The past we know
A figment of the mind
That plays with light
Captured in your eye
The thoughts evoke
A tape-less TV show
A show you can recall
But not in whole

This is what the present does to you
You may not know you may not feel

CHORUS:
Walk that road, there’s no turning back
Keep looking straight, don’t ever look back
Go with the flow; you can’t resist
The seconds left behind out of your reach

No return as you make progress
What you’ve done forget your regrets
Time to forgive and time to forget
What is the past is in white and black

Walk through the passage of time
Forced through the passage of time
Go on the passage of time
Always the passage of time

Someone goes by
He/She walks before the light
That snap of time
Leaves his/her print behind
Frame up that print
A silhouette gone by
And that is all survives
After we die

This is what the present does to you
You may not know you may not feel

To CHORUS



The fun part of this song is the last chorus, where three soloists enter at different times creating a canon over a repeated chord progression (D - D/C - G/B - Gm/Bb -)

Check this out:

The 100 Worst Martial Arts Movie Names

http://www.karateparty.org/content/view/526/30/

Of all the happy holidays in Singapore, the one I have a real love-hate relationship is probably Chinese New Year.

I love the super-long holiday and the legitimacy to stay up the whole night under the context of 守岁. The Chinese believe (as always they believe in everything...) that the longer one stays up during the night one's parents will enjoy a longer life expectancy. This means I can kill two birds with one stone.

What I detest about Chinese New Year are the SONGS. Damn it, all renditions of the songs sound similar to one another. There's always drums and gongs: "tok tok chiang", followed by electronic drum beats and fake zither and synthesised sounds. Uugh. Everywhere, the same damn thing seems to be played. At least Christmas songs are re-intepreted, say in jazz, or pop and so on.

Seriously I pity those people working in the retail outlets. They have to bear this shit all day long at least for a month before the festivities, and a few weeks after the holidays pass.

Three pairs of eyes in the family have defected to the Reds, I am the only one left with white corneas but I am sure that very soon, I will soon be pulled to join the other side.

Ironically, instead of the sick being quarantined, I am the one who is being isolated. My brother's towel has been removed from the central toilet (which we both use) and he is to bathe with my equally-infected parents. I am to wash my hands after touching anything that belongs to the sick people.

Today I felt a slight itch in one of my eyes. Good grief... it couldn't have happened sooner... That surge of revolutionary fervour is parasiting me.