Monday, April 2, 2007

April 2007

NOTES: After the fiasco that ruled the month before, I made sure I planned my topic early for April. Gavin Yap was accommodating to my interview request and also invited me to one of his rehearsal sessions to take pictures for the article. He encouraged me to inject some of my personal style into the interview, as opposed to the Q&A format that I have regularly stuck to. I tried out the new approach and had loads of fun in the process. (I'm glad you like it too, G. And I'm surprised noone else ever told you, because it always has, is and forever will be chestnut or so help me God.) The second half features excerpts of the interview which I did not include in the hard copy issue of Living Arts.

Gavin Yap: Exposing the Heart

Eyelids heavily slung across glazed spheres of chestnut brown, Gavin Yap looks tired. “Just worn out,” comes the languid rectification. He need not plead his case - Gavin gives in to an irrepressible habit of keeping his schedule chock-a-block with exploits in the local entertainment scene, whether it be acting, directing or writing. As KLpac’s current Director-in-Residence, he wears the latter two hats this month to direct his own adaptation of Edgar Allan Poe’s Tell-Tale Heart.

In the classic tale of obsession and paranoia, an unnamed narrator who takes care of an old man gets abnormally troubled by the sinister appearance of one of the old man’s eyes, and he takes matters into his own hands with grisly consequences.

Gavin’s affair with Tell-Tale Heart goes a while back. “I first read the story in Form 4, and since then I had always kept in mind how cool it would be to stage it someday, especially since it was written entirely in first-person perspective,” he explains with a renewed vivacity. In fact, he has remained completely faithful to the original text, only weaving in additional dialogue to add variations in viewpoint.

The role of the central character was a difficult one to cast. Gavin held cold readings with both male and female potentials, since Poe’s short story made no mention of the narrator’s gender: “It would have been interesting to see what direction the play would have taken had it been portrayed as a young woman.” He ended up bestowing the role to U-En Ng, whose thespian presence is synonymous with Gavin’s other directorial works such as Harold Pinter’s The Homecoming, Samuel Beckett’s Endgame and Clive Barker’s Frankenstein in Love (all staged in 2007). The Old Man will be played by local dance icon, Lee Swee Keong.

Tell-Tale Heart seems like a relatively light start to Gavin’s theatre agenda this year, if juxtaposed with the ambition that fueled Frankenstein in Love last October. “Frankenstein was a learning experience for everyone involved,” he admits with a hint of fragility in his voice. “I learned that you don’t have to think big and go epic with a stage as large as Pentas 1. I’ll be playing around more with the same space for Tell-Tale Heart; it’s a weird challenge I’m posing to myself.”

To reserved theatergoers, they tend to face an awkward challenge of their own, should they take on the experience of being audience putty in Mr. Yap’s crafty hands. In his realm of creativity, unsettling themes such as murder, incest and the depths of human despair have so far been the order of the day.

Does he do this… “To shock people?” He attempts to finish my question. No- well, perhaps that, or is he just naturally drawn to the darker side of human nature? “When I read a play for the first time, it must hit me on such an instinctual or primal-enough level that it would drive me to make that crazy decision of staging it,” he explains. “I’ve also grown up in an imperfect world, and that sort of world is what I feel has a stronger ring of truth to it.”

Intentional or otherwise, Gavin’s ongoing endeavor to push the envelope of Malaysian theatre has certainly paid off, particularly in the form of the National Arts Award for Young Talent that was presented to him last November. It was an accomplishment that took him by surprise, but it did far from massage his ego. “If anything, it has put more pressure on me to work harder! As they say, you’re only as good as your last show. The worst thing that could ever happen to me is if I woke up one day believing in my own hype.”

For those with an acquired taste for his work, I’m sure they’d be eager to seek permission to do that on his behalf.

Tell-Tale Heart is being staged from 28th April to 6th May at Pentas 1, KLPac.







On the differences between writing and adapting
“Writing my own original material is a little harder than adapting something for the stage. Adapting involves looking at text that has an already-existing structure, translating it into another medium and figuring out the best way to present it. When I write from scratch, I’m like a nomad! I don’t have a plan, so I only get to know about the characters and story as I go along. You’ll never know when the floor will fall out from under you, but I like the organic process of it all. It’s almost like a form of therapy.”

On an unexpected comment about his work
“A few days after my play ‘I Wish I Was There’ had finished its run, I was doing some voice-over work at a recording studio. While I was there, fellow voice-over talent approached me. He said that he had watched the play and was so touched by it that the very next day, he drove up to Ipoh to visit his father.”

On the ‘trial’ of Cougar Glass
“I kinda knew this was going to happen but at the same time hoped that it wouldn’t… For The Fastest Clock in the Universe, I had completely lost myself in my role (as Cougar Glass), both physically and psychologically. However, it was frustrating to read that the only comments in many reviews, including ones in the press, focused on my abs! They said I didn’t do much since my character barely had any lines. But it’s not that easy to sit there for so long, especially when everything that’s going on around Cougar is directly about him. I was surprised at how some people were more interested in reviewing my workout regime than my actual performance.”

On upcoming projects
“In September, I’ll be staging 4.48 Psychosis by Sarah Kane, a piece that explores clinical depression. Very trippy! The play is just all text, with no implication of character, story, setting – nothing. In November, I’ll be directing Dreams Are Big Business, a play which I wrote back in university. It’s a morality tale that takes place in the dream world, and poses the question of how far you’d go if you were given the chance to live out your dreams in real-time.”


Saturday, March 10, 2007

March 2007

NOTES: March was a pure panic fest. I almost covered 'The Magic Flute' but was informed that a related article was published two issues earlier, and I couldn't think of a new creative angle to tackle it from. After consulting Faridah, she suggested that I try approaching the two directors of Okiku to share their views on the staging of their own show in January. Fang and Kimmy, bless 'em, had responded to my email interview within days, and I had a managed to submit a full page in the nick of time. To top it off, Hisham from The Actors Studio even managed to make some space for a commentary article that I had written earlier as emergency backup. I was relatively diplomatic about the issue. If only I was a lot meaner.

Okiku: A Post-Mortem Uncovered

Okiku: A Tragedy Retold was staged in January 2007 at KLPac. This debut theatrical piece by Tourquinet Productions was based on the famous Japanese folk legend of a beautiful servant girl who commits suicide after being accused of a misdeed she didn’t commit, and continues to plead her innocence even from beyond the grave. Directors Kimmy Kiew and Fang Chyi reminisce on the project.



What inspired you to take on such an unconventional genre of theatre?

Kimmy: When Fang spoke to me about the concept of "sensory theatre", I got so excited because it was something I had been hoping to venture into for a long time. It’s a challenge to do horror in theatre, and we’ve learned that the only way to be good at it is to try it out!

Fang: It is not something within my comfort zone, it is challenging, it is not the norm and most of all, I found that this project opened up to a lot of creative experimentations and opportunities. Other than borrowing Okiku's name and its well known story, everything else was original - script, music and set, for example.


Which element of the legend of Okiku are you most drawn to?

K: The reflection of humanity's weaknesses such like desire, seduction, selfishness etc… that drove all the characters to a tragic end.

F: The fact that there are so many versions of the tale through the centuries, and they are all equally intriguing and mysterious.


It's rare for a theatre production to have 2 directors. Was there a lot of creative conflict between the two of you?

K: Surprisingly, no. Whenever we had different thoughts on something, we’d just sit down and analyze what would be good for the play, then a mutual decision would just come naturally. It felt amazing that at some points, we had the same idea to put into the play without even discussing it with each other beforehand.

F: We’d be two people with views from different angles of the same thing. There’s a thin line between conflict and having differences... we chose to iron out our differences and got rid of possible conflicts. There were not many problems as Kimmy and I had been on the 'same page' since the birth of this project.


Name three emotions or thoughts running through your head as you sat in the audience watching your own production.

K: Nervousness on opening night, but of course my actors wouldn’t have known about it until now – oops! Tension, but only when mistakes happen on stage. And I was very touched. Like when one of the shows that had the smallest audience turned out to be the best, and for the last show, when I was really thankful to everyone involved and it was hard to believe we all made it through til the end.

F: It's a whole cocktail of emotions... three just won't be enough to list them all! Nervousness, praying that all technical work ran smoothly and that the actors are focused. Pride, to have an opportunity to share this project with everyone. Curiosity, of what was going through everyone's head while watching it.


What has been the most memorable aspect of the Okiku experience that you've taken home?

K: The progress we made right til the end of the production. Like any other production, problems may arise but it’s all about learning to be calm in order to sort them out.

F: Fear. It can be a strong motivator... and I am not talking about the supposed 'horror' factor of the play. Being out of one's comfort zone can make one feel surprisingly alive; if not more alert!




Alterations

Sometime late last year, I appeared as a print advertisement talent for a grocery store product. The shoot went smoothly enough, although as it is with all commercial shoots, a lot of emphasis was put on visual precision; a slight tilt of the head or twist of the wrist would suddenly speak a completely different language.

A few months later, I was informed that the print materials had been put up inside a nearby shopping mall. Curious to check out the miracles of airbrushing, I scouted around for it and saw more than what I had bargained for. Apart from the flawless glow of its visage and blinding gloss of its hair, I had noticed that the plasticized version of me had been given a ‘boost’ in a particular bodily department, and a ‘reduction’ in another. My chest was pumped to a C-cup, and my slightly bulging triceps were sliced clean off.

For all the Ken-izens in Barbie Land, it sounds like the sort of image that would send their salivary glands on overdrive. Elewhere in Anal-ville, someone’s head was reaching an alarming temperature as she stood in front of a portrait she couldn’t bring herself to recognize.

I do admit there have been days when I catch myself thinking how nice it would be to do a little more justice to a plunging neckline. But during the other 99.9% of the time where societal pressure is as trifling as a bruise on a banana, I very much appreciate the androgynous build I’ve been born into. To have someone not only disrespect that, but to also project to the public his or her own idea of what I should be looking more like and pass it off as a reality, is a figurative slap in the face, trip of the ankle, granny-panties-wedgie combo.

Then again, do I have a say in it? After all, I had willingly offered my physical image to the advertisement’s clients who then had the authority to do whatever was needed to make sure their product would sell. Worse still (and it petrifies me to admit this), if I had known beforehand that my image was going to be manipulated in such a manner, I wonder if I still would have taken up the job for job’s sake anyway to help pay for the bills…

I love my body too much to get paranoid about it, but I’ve found out the hard way that working in the unpredictable world of media, you’ll never know when the next powers-that-be will push the envelope of shallowness a little further than expected, and from right under your idiosyncratically beautiful nose.

Monday, February 5, 2007

February 2007

Notes: I was thinking of adding a little variety to the space I was offered to play around with, so I did a commentary and interview. Ciplak was a pure riot, appallingly understated. Thought I could shed some light on this little gem. The interview is with Mark Beau de Silva, a man I had the privilege of working with in the Broken Bridges ensemble. On the countless train rides to rehearsals, it was inevitable that we'd share stories about our ups and downs, and during one ride Mark enlightened me on his upcoming play. I'm glad I decided to give him publicity in February's issue. I watched the show later that month and was blown away by the script and his acting. I felt like a proud mother. Or something like that.

Far from Ciplak

A couple of months ago I caught Ciplak, a local independent film by Khairil M Bakar. It can’t be realistically considered for an Oscar but with the paltry RM10,000 budget that Khai was reputedly running on, I’d say it was nothing short of a fantastic attempt at entertainment. I was later told by one of my friends, who worked on the film, that it hadn’t been well received during its run, one of the reasons being that the sense of humor applied to the story was hard to latch on to. Now, I usually use myself as a benchmark to rate the viewer-friendliness of
a film. I’m quite dense so as long as I understand what goes on and enjoy myself, I can safely recommend a film to just about anyone. For one, I understood Ciplak - the main character himself recounts his current state of affairs to the audience throughout the course of the film – and just as importantly, I laughed a lot for all the reasons intended. So to find that my friend and I were the only folks in the cinema when we watched it was a shame, and quite a filthy one at that in my opinion. For some reason, I can’t see Anglicization as a good enough excuse to overlook the film as for many of us, our movie preferences lean towards that anyway. As for the aforementioned Oscar bit, it’s come as close as it could by winning last year’s Anugerah Skrin TV3 for Best Alternative Film; I’m sure that’s gotta say something. If only the Malaysian movie-going public would put more faith in their homegrown productions, particularly the indie scene. Money can impress but is irrelative to the makings of a great flick; sometimes there’s something about a filmmaker’s genius and passion that just takes the cake.


Mark of Pride

Ah Steve is an all-new comedy about a man dissecting his gender identity and the stigma that surrounds the person he is truly comfortable being. Giving us a brief lowdown about himself and his latest work is playwright Mark Beau de Silva, who also portrays the main character in the story.

Do you ever feel the pressure of living up to high expectations, especially with the critical acclaim of your previous works such as Stories For Amah?
Sometimes when I think about it, yeah. But I try not to compare my plays, as I feel they are quite different- inspired by different things. Of course, people usually measure the success of a play by ticket sales and reviews, but my first sense of satisfaction comes after the last word of the script has been written. How do I say this… You know when you write something sh*tty, you will feel it? It's the same thing when you write something that means something to you. I felt good after writing Ah Steve - I think that is enough, for now at least!

What drives you to pen a play, any 'muses'? Do you have any particular routine of writing?
I tried writing using flowcharts and mindmaps and the like, you know, very organized and structured, but it never works for me. I have to have strong feeling in me to start, and I usually just write and write once it comes. There's one thing I’m superstitious about: I always must write with a pencil/pen on paper. I cannot type it straight into the PC- the result would be sh*tty! I don't have a muse, but the people around me inspire me.

Do you ever get bouts of anxiety knowing that you are working with local theatre greats like Joe Hasham and Ah Steve’s director, Dato' Faridah Merican?
Not anxiety, but I am grateful. I always feel I’d be nothing in theatre without them. They are like my 'theatre guardian angels' who believe in young people like me, over and over again.

The cast of Ah Steve seems to be dominated by rising talents. Was this intentional, and how important is this element to you as a writer?
Joe and Faridah did say that they feel my writing is for 'real people'. So maybe they think these rising stars would provide a fresh and more realistic feel to the play. This one I am just guessing la, I also dono.

How do you feel starring in a play that was also written by you - is it any easier or more difficult?
More difficult. I was very uncomfortable at first but Faridah and Joe think I suit the role best.

What do you hope audiences will get out of Ah Steve?
I hope they will come and leave the theatre loving unconventional people more, and knowing that they are just like everybody else.

Ah Steve is the fourth installment of the Malaysian Playwright Series.

It is staging this month in The Actors Studio @ BSC on 22 – 24 Feb, 27 Feb - 3rd March @ 8.30pm; 25 February, 4th March @ 3pm
and The Actors Studio Greenhall in Penang on 9-11 March @ 8.30pm, 11 March @ 3.00pm

Monday, January 15, 2007

January 2007

NOTES: Reading the Living Arts newsletter for many years, I was starting to notice quite recently that its potential to be more than just a bulletin pad was not being fully taken advantage of. So I shot an email to Joe Hasham and Faridah Merican, asking them if I could chip in some content to spruce the newsletter up a tad, and also on a personal level, to gain some experience and exposure. Both were delighted to have me on board. My first topic was Faridah's simple suggestion after I gave up brainstorming for a star-spangled introduction.

As a relatively fresh contributor to the magazine, it may seem a little rude to head straight into my business of writing without introducing myself to you. I use the term ‘relatively’ because an account of my audition for Broken Bridges The Musical was published in a couple of recent issues. By the time you get to the bottom of this page, I assume you’d be sensing a pattern with my choice of topic. But not to worry, this is only because at the time of typing, complications arose with a couple of January productions I was hoping to cover. I’ll try to keep things as varied as I can in the months to come.

Now where was I? Ah, yes. Hi, I’m Davina. And if you intend to read on, thanks a mill.

Next Depot: Ipoh

As an ensemble member for a musical, I discovered that you are tossed headfirst into the whirlpool of madness. For Broken Bridges, learning the songs and conditioning our bodies for performance took two months, breathing life into the script and ingraining it into our systems to make it run like clockwork took another two.

Two months after our staging in KLPac, we took Broken Bridges to Ipoh, the town that forms the soul of the musical. Refreshment rehearsals commenced less than two weeks before showtime – a daunting task for three new members to the ensemble but they took it all in their stride. As for the rest of us, we did need to shake a little rust out of our joints but once we got back into the swing of things we were good to go. However, a few original ensemble members who couldn’t join the restaging were sorely missed.

An appendage to these rehearsals were breathing exercises to maximize our lung capacity and hence improve voice control. Enter Monsieur Dominique, a facilitator armed with a repertoire of elaborate puffing and an accent to melt the ice caps of Greenland. He guaranteed results in less than a week - true enough, we felt and heard the difference in mere days.



In Ipoh, we were welcomed with generous smiles and the true blue – or rather white – aroma of its trademark coffee. There’s an endearing quality about the town that makes you feel right at home, and the homely vibe extends itself even to Taman Budaya, the venue for our staging. You can’t put your finger on it, but there’s something about the intimate seating arrangement, dim fluorescent lighting and unpretentious dressing rooms that halves a bad case of the jitters. Loo Jia Wei had designed a multi-tiered stage for the Ipoh run which added a whole new dimension to the show, and the actors lapped it up like kids at a playground.





A new environment, as anticipated, also presents new challenges. No more cute little hi-tech mic packs that each of the cast and ensemble get the honor of guarding with our lives. Say hello to good ol’ fashioned microphones hanging from the ceiling and attached to the front of the stage. This is where our newly-acquired breathing prowess was put to the test. The roof made it audibly clear that rain was the season’s latest trend. The air in the theater was dry and musty, a natural hindrance in the continuous endeavor that is voice preservation. Despite the setbacks, we managed to stage a weekend of smooth-running shows, and thunder even occasionally struck at the most appropriate moments for dramatic effect. It was dreadfully nice to also find out that Ipoh folks make a wonderfully supportive audience.

As we sang the finale song for the last show, I thought I was the only one on stage trying to hold back the tears. I gave up and I drenched the floor at my feet at the first bow. The second everyone stepped off stage, some of us initiated the sob fest. It was somehow great to know that we allowed a production with so much heart to affect us that deeply.

Earlier this year, I was deep in contemplation about taking on Broken Bridges The Musical; if it was going to be an advisable decision to make with my life already thrown asunder with other occupations. A staging in KLPac, road trip to Ipoh, band of newfound friends and mentors, trove of learning experiences and total of eight months later, I now wonder why I even thought twice.





Photo credit: Pangasaasanii G & Davina G