Jolly Folly, Mighty Morphin'

Krishen Jit died yesterday at night. Admit I don't really know him and his works. But it seems like we have lost another of Singapore's best theatre gems. I think I'm someone who fears death, but have no problem with it because it's just a longer sleep. We will wake up somehow in another place, a new life.

Hurdles rocked but still got last! Alamak! Heck. One thing I learnt, spikes give you a lot of grip and momentum, quite shiok, you feel like you are wearing a thick sock. I have decided to join Track someday in University or something. 'Z' Division. I know I'd get bloody last few because no experience at all, but I SINCERELY want to do it. It's the speed, the rush and the finish!

Posted by Brandon at Thursday, April 28, 2005 | Permalink

Slightly deluded with life now.

Today, Crystal just broke into tears, triggered off by my "I think your job is very hard". It told me a lot of things, and maybe as human beings, we self-indulge too much and lose the view of the bigger world around us. And how do you soothe a sadness so delicate? Ineffectuality combined with guilt just made me rather passive about it. Crystal, if you read this, and I think you will, cheer up! I UNDERSTAND your circumstance and I felt for you as I said when you were disregarded when chairing the session. :)

I remember the feeling of doing the 1500m race last Wednesday. It was euphoric, it was heavenly. I heard the one and only A55ian on the track, Helen shouting for me to press on. She was loud. I felt embarassed yet moved, and very thankful somehow. I was determined and suddenly very motivated, didn't give up and was in a good position to win a bronze if I kept the pace going.

But God never gives me things the simple way. Out of nowhere, I had a leg cramp on the 2nd/3rd round. I inched out of the race and saw everyone pass me by. Disappointed, disappointed, very very disappointed. Somehow felt indebted to Helen.

And she came over to say, "Never mind." Then behind her, the image of Chris Tong crossing the finish line first. Somehow, it all just ended well. Even better than I thought it to be. People congratulating the front-runners as those at the back sportingly finished the race. Concerned individuals whom I never knew before asking how I was with my hamstring. Helen going through trouble to find me spikes. And life goes on, much better.

Posted by Brandon at Monday, April 25, 2005 | Permalink

I am a slave to farce. Boeing Boeing is very cool stuff. Very very cool stuff. Don't think any critic would say anything bad about it really. HILARIOUS! Pam Oei and Emma Yong spot on with their accents, Brendon Fernandez and Lim Yu Beng with perfect comic timing. The maid was the limit. She just had to stand there, and somehow I will laugh. This is the real stuff.

Drama Club 2005 presents PRIVATE PARTS and the MATSUYAMA MIRROR. Tickets going at 8 bucks! May 6. Exciting show buy tickets from me!

Posted by Brandon at Sunday, April 24, 2005 | Permalink

I am a slave to farce. Boeing Boeing is very cool stuff. Very very cool stuff. Don't think any critic would say anything bad about it really. HILARIOUS! Pam Oei and Emma Yong spot on with their accents, Brendon Fernandez and Lim Yu Beng with perfect comic timing. The maid was the limit. She just had to stand there, and somehow I will laugh. This is the real stuff.

Drama Club 2005 presents PRIVATE PARTS and the MATSUYAMA MIRROR. Tickets going at 8 bucks! May 6. Exciting show buy tickets from me!

Posted by Brandon at Sunday, April 24, 2005 | Permalink

I did a first showing for my monologue today and I realised I actually like it very much. "It" as in acting, "It" as in simply sitting on a black box and commanding the space, "It" as in talking with Mr Lofthouse about the piece, "It" as in the sanctity of space. It's quite everything. This idea of metacognition when you act. Somehow, you just want to tease the audience, make them laugh and cry, screw their minds, shake them inside out.

I've always wanted to write a theory or thesis about what I think is theatre. Reading through some of the TSD notes from the Year ones, I gather my own theory:

Brandon Ho - The Theatre of the Winner

• Theatre is about manipulating the blind, dumb watcher, so that he is led into the actor.
• Highly influenced by Absurdism and Grotwoskian theatre, deeply disturbing theatre with a comic twist. The watcher feels stupid after laughing because he failed to understand beyond.
• Anti-Brecht and pro-Artaud, highly physical and nuance-based
• Theatre is across space "entertaining" and across time "mind-boggling".
• Acting is a game on emphasis and volume and intensity. Voice is the most important tool to Theatre of the Winner.
• A rebellion towards political rigidities, superficiality and flawed social trends, tearing down notions like beauty, love and acceptance.
• A manifestation of a "logic within a logic", "100 percent more realistic than realistic".
• Minimalistic or overblown set, incongruous and unfanciful costumes, lights BRIGHT.
• Directors are seen as impediments to creative urges. The actor is the winner of the game, the breadwinner of the stage, the servant of the audience. In other words, the audience is KING.
• A celebration of life amidst mass destruction, a "ludicrous reality" so shocking, it hurts like "seeping water".

Posted by Brandon at Friday, April 22, 2005 | Permalink

I keep thinking of one scenario. One recurring thought - that if I were to be forced into a circumstance of a parentless family. I would quit school! Of course, I bloody don't want that to happen, but the notion of supporting the family is a refreshing upstart into a realm of new independence.

Today, I somehow feel rather betrayed. It's a strong word, and that's why it's not meant to mean what it truly does. It's a desire to be off a pile of clothes. SIMPLE! But what the hell was I doing there in the first place?

PW A1! Shiok! Whole class got 1. And that quite crappy "You are my Sunshine" was ermmm mushy. Stood there clapping, but cannot be more grateful to Mr Chew, who ...yes... wrote this letter I'd never forget about valleys and havens and roads, about how enlightening A55 is to him.

I almost feel like a character in Decline and Fall, with teachers who express their emotions in a slightly innovative style, with students who miraculously do very well in PW although we dreaded every moment of it, with a principal who openly declares that she "was very distracted during a meeting", with council nominees "full of shit", with the Literature HOD spilling eggs and coffee over our assignments and serenading us with his inspiring version of the school anthem, with retro toilet aunties, and of course the cranky TSD department - teachers with weird names like Lofty and Poonie, as well as students who wash marinated chicken, want (dubiously) to join Star Search, pee in Snapple bottles, hide in costume room and burn holes everywhere. Of the sins mentioned above, I'm already guilty of three.

Ah, life is beautiful.

Posted by Brandon at Saturday, April 16, 2005 | Permalink

I suddenly thought about Young Co. today. How should I say? I miss them? No. I heck care? No.

When I first saw Brendon Fernandez on stage, I thought frankly he was an average actor. In the Good Citizen, written by Dick Lee. Then I found out he was from TSD. I know a few struggling, aspiring actors in the scene who were once from TSD. But who actually admits they are from TSD? Or at least acknowledges the fact in the programme or in an interview with the media or something? It seems quite a shame really. I'm ambivalent at this moment.

I actually met him once in the audience when Dracula was running. He was quite cold when approached and I was asking him about the show and talking about Mr Lofthouse and Mrs Low. Remarks almost tried. It seemed like there is a loss of attachment? Or a sense of belonging to the TSD community?

I remember how I told myself at Primary School that I will not forget the school. Now the memories there have faded away, and I believe the sense of gratitude I used to have for the teachers has gradually diminished. Maybe I hope that TSD will stay with me? In my mind, in my conscience?

I'm not being rational!

Posted by Brandon at Friday, April 15, 2005 | Permalink

DAMMIT! I'm very tired!

Sometimes I wish for a break, to give myself a holiday. But looking into the next day's schedule and the massive amount of work to do to catch up, and of course my goal to rise from my "academic decline into mediocrity", I can't bring myself to pon. It's an obligation. SADLY, not for myself, but it seems like it's for the ... bigger community, like there IS a need to always be in school and be prim and proper.

I PLEDGE TO: Revive my ailing Literature fire! And buck up for ECONS S! Seriously an ASS subject! ASSSSSSSSS PAPER! It's just complicating A Level stuff, trying to disprove A Level standard theories and attacking assumptions. This cycle will never end if we keep harping on stuff that will never change.

The hurdles scare me everytime I walk past them because I know that the Heats won't be easy. 10 hurdles! And I will try my best not to look like a fool hopping around and slamming all the hurdles down coz I can't even jump over one. And 1500m! My hope and my glory! If you find any of the other runners murdered one day before the race, it's not me.

Posted by Brandon at Thursday, April 14, 2005 | Permalink

I wish there was peace in the world. Because everyone has chosen the path to self-destruction.

Posted by Brandon at Monday, April 11, 2005 | Permalink

I don't know if I should fear euphoria or not. Because after MusicFest 2005, which was an amazingly uplifting night of songs, cheers and fun, I felt quite low. As I sat among the audience, I wished I was on stage, as a backstage helper, as a performer, as an emcee, whatever.

Then I snapped back to reality.

I think people like me sometimes get drifted away with magic. The wonderful feeling of being heard on a stage, the power to command the audience. Yet we forget the hard work, the process that everyone has to endure. We only care about the product. How spectacular, how thrilling it all can get, an entertaining experience.

Tonight I was slightly more free than other days. I sat in the balcony, and gestured for Tabithan to come over. He sat for a little while on my lap, his tight pants, his sparkling eyes, I thought somehow, I haven't seen him for a long long time. He came down, went to the shoe rack to get his soccer boots, wore it like a proud soldier ready to fight. I almost felt like a father, and I laughed at myself, for being someone who has lost the child-like purity of an innocent mind.

He's an inspiration.

Posted by Brandon at Saturday, April 09, 2005 | Permalink

There is a certain faith in the way people talk. They choose to speak in a certain manner, irregardless of the message conveyed.

Today, during PC Class, it was a darn ache to see a bunch of (deluded, tired, inspired, awe-striken, all at the same time) Literature students scribbling away on that A4 piece of paper about love, deciphering the inner depths of too profound a sonnet or poem. I am serious when I say that it is quite absurd a scene because we are just trying too hard. I am trying too hard. We have lost the essence of practical criticism - the enjoyment of the language and words, the appreciation of flamboyance and grandiloquence. I left the class, sighed, gulped down some water and walked into the toilet.

I secretly think I am the reincarnation of a depressed poet who exalted death, hope and disease. The image of Sylvia Plath opening her eyes in the first scene of Sylvia, reminded me of how I wake up every morning - purpose-driven, but purpose-crushed, innocent yet corrupt, clean yet the "unclean thing". Amidst the wind and the rustle of the leaves, I rise from my bed (cue: Phoenix imagery in Lady Lazarus). I dig into two slices of white or wholemeal bread and two long sausages with 3 slits on each of its length. I hop onto the teeming bus and delve into a sleep I never want to get out of.

Posted by Brandon at Monday, April 04, 2005 | Permalink