I was cleaning the floor of AS7 this evening. Not literally. But wow, this must be one of the first times I've finished the bulk of a choreography more than a day before deadline. (Sorry Terence Then, I know it's bad....) Anyway I've been wanting to blog lately but have had no idea how to organize my random thoughts. I've decided to start with the three shows I caught over the weekend of 17 to 19 this month. 17: Chun pangsehed me last-minute for the Foreign Bodies show. Thankfully I saw Bettina when I was getting off the train, and she let me sit with her. The show was good. I loved the An An-ish segments best, but more than all of the dancing, David's video projections were super brilliant.
18: I caught Jessica in the Contact concerts - 3, Momento, and Edge. Alison's casting for her item was strange, and I don't know whether the extreme segregation of her girls by grouping and costume was mostly accident or intention. Hazel and Jessica were in pretty purple dresses, while the other three looked like female cadets at morning PT. The only pleasant outcome of this uncomfortable caste system was the girl-on-girl, purple-on-grey action near the end. As for Chou Shu-Yi's solo, let's just say that the musical accompaniment had what sounded like crickets, before becoming entirely one-note. Let's face it: dance is freaking subjective. Yarra's item opened strongly. The audience was greeted by an impressive arrangement of hoisted chairs, and a cast of six boys seated in a row, in distinct personalities: one burdened, one insecure, one colourless, one eager, one rebellious, one innocent. Water Bloom was better the first Saturday. The second time around dancers generally seemed tired, but only by comparison. My favourite item across was Kim Jae Duk's Clocker, a duet between two men.
19: I had just seated myself at Wilkie Edge with a green tea latte and the monster of a tome Yvonne lent me, after dropping off my dad at the airport, when I realized that it was half an hour from three, which was likely the only time slot I could make that week to watch Esther in the third act of Love: In Stores Now, a musical at Orchard Central. I was smack in front of her when she entered for the intro mass dance, and got to see her cua tio face again. The third act had almost no plot movement, but Izyan was again super funny and Andy was again super shuai, and I suppose the underlying messages hit home: for your loved ones, buy outrageously expensive gifts; if on your own, shop likewise to numb the loneliness.
29.12.10
15.11.10
Until death
I just met Dick Cavett, a former talk show host, on a September episode of Reliable Sources (my Zune has been refusing to play its podcast and so I've got quite behind).
I love old people - generally - in the same way that I generally find men gross: there are some awesome guys, and numerous exceptionally gross women, as there are numerous old people I don't like. Old people aren't in a hurry. They're not desperate to impress. They're not uncomfortably self-conscious. They don't steamroll you with stories, or deafen you with their amusement. They're calmer, more self-assured. Again, I mean all this generally.
Dick Cavett turns 74 this Friday. In the interview I watched, his humour is refreshingly subtle (his jokes require less an LOL and more a smiley), his speech remarkably cool, both in tone and pace, that he makes Howard Kurtz (who is 57) seem like a rash youth. He has sad eyes. When I accessed his Wikipedia profile, I first thought this explained by the loss of his wife of 42 years in 2006, but then read that he has had a long history of depression. He keeps a blog for the New York Times. Between the anecdote with which he concludes his latest post and the joke Wikipedia mentions as Johnny Carson's favourite from Cavett, I'd say humour is a lot louder and dumber today.
Another fascinating find online is the web show @katiecouric, which has been running for over a year now. It's easy to see why Katie Couric is so popular. She is very real and very personable in the interviewer's chair. She poses questions that she personally finds valuable and interesting, she speaks clearly and fluently, makes sure her guests have time to think, styles herself their equal, as opposed to an alienated interrogator or a superior hostess. She divulges at the same time that she elicits. In an interview with Ellen DeGeneres, Couric recalls the month Ellen came out as the time that her husband was diagnosed with colon cancer. She mentions this in passing, involuntarily chokes up, stuns Ellen, but ably carries on with her line of questioning. She didn't mention that she and her daughters would lose him nine months later.
I love old people - generally - in the same way that I generally find men gross: there are some awesome guys, and numerous exceptionally gross women, as there are numerous old people I don't like. Old people aren't in a hurry. They're not desperate to impress. They're not uncomfortably self-conscious. They don't steamroll you with stories, or deafen you with their amusement. They're calmer, more self-assured. Again, I mean all this generally.
Dick Cavett turns 74 this Friday. In the interview I watched, his humour is refreshingly subtle (his jokes require less an LOL and more a smiley), his speech remarkably cool, both in tone and pace, that he makes Howard Kurtz (who is 57) seem like a rash youth. He has sad eyes. When I accessed his Wikipedia profile, I first thought this explained by the loss of his wife of 42 years in 2006, but then read that he has had a long history of depression. He keeps a blog for the New York Times. Between the anecdote with which he concludes his latest post and the joke Wikipedia mentions as Johnny Carson's favourite from Cavett, I'd say humour is a lot louder and dumber today.
Another fascinating find online is the web show @katiecouric, which has been running for over a year now. It's easy to see why Katie Couric is so popular. She is very real and very personable in the interviewer's chair. She poses questions that she personally finds valuable and interesting, she speaks clearly and fluently, makes sure her guests have time to think, styles herself their equal, as opposed to an alienated interrogator or a superior hostess. She divulges at the same time that she elicits. In an interview with Ellen DeGeneres, Couric recalls the month Ellen came out as the time that her husband was diagnosed with colon cancer. She mentions this in passing, involuntarily chokes up, stuns Ellen, but ably carries on with her line of questioning. She didn't mention that she and her daughters would lose him nine months later.
11.11.10
Overflow
I was going to title this post something about dance, but a quick check reveals that most of my posts, most of my life is already about dance, little else. Recently there was:
- the competition at dbl O (8 and 22 Oct), where I found out that I love it dark and loud, and that costuming must be about the bigger picture, where tiny details are lost. We didn't get a placing at the finals, but I wonder what the judges thought. Try try again, I suppose!
- the flash mob at Ion (23 and 30 Oct), where I experienced human behaviour in the face of freebies. They snatch bags of gummies away from you like Augustus Gloops, without giving you so much as a glance, yet avoid the last two tarts on the tray like poison.
- the show at Fairmont (3 Nov), where I was reminded that I am horribly unethnic. I was half-deservedly thrashed at rehearsal, and catching glimpses of myself on video after the show, I instinctively yelled in my head, OMG You're fired! On the fluffier side of things, Lynette and Vanessa came up with a children's book series, The Adventures of Snow Bear and Nonsense, where the image of Snow Bear has both paws gripping a cup of Koi (feeding time: 3 pm), and Nonsense is a chin, an eyebrow and lots of crazy hair. Each story is highly educational (e.g. Snow Bear and Nonsense Take The Escalator), where the duo demonstrate the Do's and Don'ts in life (respectively).
This past weekend, Terence Pek shared a great choreography to Hedley's 'ftnicr'. Eusoff Hall studio is awful for filming though, especially for flying and leaping across space (he is Mighty Mouse). But Saturday ended very low. I tweeted for selfish dramatic effect, knowing nobody would know what exactly was godawful. I was godawful, at the Blast alumni item rehearsal. People were godawful too, but for reasons unrelated to dance. But the worst was the discussion after rehearsal. Bad taste upsets me. My first instinct is to File for Divorce, but I have got to figure out how to reconcile differences. Whatever it is, I've come up with some dance advice to myself for the coming months: Humble yourself you little piece of shit.
Sunday was stage run at the Warehouse. Every vetting has been a joy to watch, but now at a proper distance, it was a different show. On the whole, this year's is the best show yet, with its fair share of revelations. Arjuna is ridiculous in Xuehui's item, Terence Tan is awesome in Eve's, Jasmine Foong is gorgeous in Zaihar's, and Daniel's house item is sheer artistry. I especially love the girls in it. When I compared them to dancers who make me angsty, I thought about three levels of performance. There are those who are stuck on the level of the stage, taking up space, showing face, soaking up a little lime light. There are those who are stuck on the level of show: decent dancers, who care about expression, energy, basic technicalities. Then there are those that make you go whoa: dancers who showcase their precious and beautiful art. The ideal for me is the combination of all three: be a bit of a stage whore, give a good show, but perfect and continually improve your art. Hm I score half upon three. Fred fail. :)
At the end of the full run, we got to see O Crew use the stage. As a result, Sunday ended very high, and all my premature grumpiness accumulated over the weekend was chased away (OMG I'm only going to get grumpier and more insufferable as I grow older). We got to see them not just perform once through, but block, mark, try, re-try, then run; what a treat. I feel like such a pervert. But I always consider being able to watch O Crew our wages as performers. They sent me away with a smile on my face. Dancing is truly depressing, feeling like a half- or less-than-half-filled glass all the time, but watching overflowing glasses is healing. And in a quiet mood, when the overflowing glasses are people you know and love, who've grown, or are just plain awesome, then emotions swell and tears well.
I had a revelation about choreography at rehearsal for the opening item. There are broadly speaking two types, although categorization depends subjectively on the abilities of the dancer: choreography can feel generic and freer, more adaptable, or it can feel intensely specific, like you have to decipher the technique of the choreographer, inch-by-inch, and break your body to emulate it. When the situation is in fact the latter, based on choreography-dancer compatibility, but is treated as the former, the result is choreographer headache and heartache. Let us bow our heads in prayer for the health of our choreographers' heads and hearts.
- the competition at dbl O (8 and 22 Oct), where I found out that I love it dark and loud, and that costuming must be about the bigger picture, where tiny details are lost. We didn't get a placing at the finals, but I wonder what the judges thought. Try try again, I suppose!
- the flash mob at Ion (23 and 30 Oct), where I experienced human behaviour in the face of freebies. They snatch bags of gummies away from you like Augustus Gloops, without giving you so much as a glance, yet avoid the last two tarts on the tray like poison.
- the show at Fairmont (3 Nov), where I was reminded that I am horribly unethnic. I was half-deservedly thrashed at rehearsal, and catching glimpses of myself on video after the show, I instinctively yelled in my head, OMG You're fired! On the fluffier side of things, Lynette and Vanessa came up with a children's book series, The Adventures of Snow Bear and Nonsense, where the image of Snow Bear has both paws gripping a cup of Koi (feeding time: 3 pm), and Nonsense is a chin, an eyebrow and lots of crazy hair. Each story is highly educational (e.g. Snow Bear and Nonsense Take The Escalator), where the duo demonstrate the Do's and Don'ts in life (respectively).
This past weekend, Terence Pek shared a great choreography to Hedley's 'ftnicr'. Eusoff Hall studio is awful for filming though, especially for flying and leaping across space (he is Mighty Mouse). But Saturday ended very low. I tweeted for selfish dramatic effect, knowing nobody would know what exactly was godawful. I was godawful, at the Blast alumni item rehearsal. People were godawful too, but for reasons unrelated to dance. But the worst was the discussion after rehearsal. Bad taste upsets me. My first instinct is to File for Divorce, but I have got to figure out how to reconcile differences. Whatever it is, I've come up with some dance advice to myself for the coming months: Humble yourself you little piece of shit.
Sunday was stage run at the Warehouse. Every vetting has been a joy to watch, but now at a proper distance, it was a different show. On the whole, this year's is the best show yet, with its fair share of revelations. Arjuna is ridiculous in Xuehui's item, Terence Tan is awesome in Eve's, Jasmine Foong is gorgeous in Zaihar's, and Daniel's house item is sheer artistry. I especially love the girls in it. When I compared them to dancers who make me angsty, I thought about three levels of performance. There are those who are stuck on the level of the stage, taking up space, showing face, soaking up a little lime light. There are those who are stuck on the level of show: decent dancers, who care about expression, energy, basic technicalities. Then there are those that make you go whoa: dancers who showcase their precious and beautiful art. The ideal for me is the combination of all three: be a bit of a stage whore, give a good show, but perfect and continually improve your art. Hm I score half upon three. Fred fail. :)
At the end of the full run, we got to see O Crew use the stage. As a result, Sunday ended very high, and all my premature grumpiness accumulated over the weekend was chased away (OMG I'm only going to get grumpier and more insufferable as I grow older). We got to see them not just perform once through, but block, mark, try, re-try, then run; what a treat. I feel like such a pervert. But I always consider being able to watch O Crew our wages as performers. They sent me away with a smile on my face. Dancing is truly depressing, feeling like a half- or less-than-half-filled glass all the time, but watching overflowing glasses is healing. And in a quiet mood, when the overflowing glasses are people you know and love, who've grown, or are just plain awesome, then emotions swell and tears well.
I had a revelation about choreography at rehearsal for the opening item. There are broadly speaking two types, although categorization depends subjectively on the abilities of the dancer: choreography can feel generic and freer, more adaptable, or it can feel intensely specific, like you have to decipher the technique of the choreographer, inch-by-inch, and break your body to emulate it. When the situation is in fact the latter, based on choreography-dancer compatibility, but is treated as the former, the result is choreographer headache and heartache. Let us bow our heads in prayer for the health of our choreographers' heads and hearts.
14.10.10
What I've learnt from watching TV
I'm following quite a number of American television series right now, but most of them fill out only half an hour: The Big C, Mike & Molly, Raising Hope, Running Wilde, On the Road with Austin & Santino, Outsourced.
Temple Grandin is an HBO biopic which swept up seven Emmys in August. Claire Danes plays the titular autistic cattle expert who invented the squeeze machine. It is a spectacularly skilful performance, far beyond the days of Dustin Hoffman's Rain Man. Watching the movie, I had to wonder whether I was borderline autistic myself. Temple is completely unaware of her own facial expressions, and is delightfully surprised studying them through polaroids her aunt takes. She is hypersensitive to touch, suffers high anxiety, balks at innocuous triggers such as sliding doors, and is emotionally shut down towards people. Her conversation lacks segues, but when she waxes passionate, I recognize her genius, because she speaks like an eminent secondary school classmate I had.
If there was one convenient snap judgement to be made from the first few episodes of Top Chef: Just Desserts, it is that pastry chefs are nuts. Almost every single person on the show is on edge, even head judge Iuzzini, who can be quite the emotional jerk. The sanest of them, Eric ("the Zen Baker"), turns out not to be in fact a chef of sweets so much as a baker of savouries. The scene which really struck a chord was of Korean-born Heather Hurlbert snapping from the kitchen counter while a nerve-racked colleague retreats upstairs: "She needs to suck it up!" Beware of Asian fury. But I do that a lot, shouting down people, even if just in my head. It's uncalled for, and it's definitely bad for health. I get incredibly incensed sometimes when someone is hated on. It used to be that I'd imagine lecturing the whole lousy flock. Recently I just want to punch their faces in. I need a squeeze machine.
Stills from my two favourite shows at the moment, The Good Wife and Rubicon. I love yellow legal pad.
Temple Grandin is an HBO biopic which swept up seven Emmys in August. Claire Danes plays the titular autistic cattle expert who invented the squeeze machine. It is a spectacularly skilful performance, far beyond the days of Dustin Hoffman's Rain Man. Watching the movie, I had to wonder whether I was borderline autistic myself. Temple is completely unaware of her own facial expressions, and is delightfully surprised studying them through polaroids her aunt takes. She is hypersensitive to touch, suffers high anxiety, balks at innocuous triggers such as sliding doors, and is emotionally shut down towards people. Her conversation lacks segues, but when she waxes passionate, I recognize her genius, because she speaks like an eminent secondary school classmate I had.
If there was one convenient snap judgement to be made from the first few episodes of Top Chef: Just Desserts, it is that pastry chefs are nuts. Almost every single person on the show is on edge, even head judge Iuzzini, who can be quite the emotional jerk. The sanest of them, Eric ("the Zen Baker"), turns out not to be in fact a chef of sweets so much as a baker of savouries. The scene which really struck a chord was of Korean-born Heather Hurlbert snapping from the kitchen counter while a nerve-racked colleague retreats upstairs: "She needs to suck it up!" Beware of Asian fury. But I do that a lot, shouting down people, even if just in my head. It's uncalled for, and it's definitely bad for health. I get incredibly incensed sometimes when someone is hated on. It used to be that I'd imagine lecturing the whole lousy flock. Recently I just want to punch their faces in. I need a squeeze machine.
12.9.10
11.9.10
Tender tonight
Despite and because of the parts I disliked, this was my favourite The Next Wave. The highs were very high, in part because people I know have got so much better. Some don't know. Some don't care.
I think a dancer like Aiting is taken for granted.
Lynette rocked my soul. She was virtuosic. Clement rocked my bones. He inspired me beyond, also dashed me to tears. My Monday dilemma is no longer. I will try.
I've explained so many times that I've forgot my reasons. I don't want to get jaded, defensive, offensive, cold, bitter, trod, blinded, numbed, insincere, rude.
I hope the churning and the idiocy are limited to this warped lunatic night.
I was relieved after five hours of choreography and three hours of rehearsal today, then realized there is half the song left.
I think a dancer like Aiting is taken for granted.
Lynette rocked my soul. She was virtuosic. Clement rocked my bones. He inspired me beyond, also dashed me to tears. My Monday dilemma is no longer. I will try.
I've explained so many times that I've forgot my reasons. I don't want to get jaded, defensive, offensive, cold, bitter, trod, blinded, numbed, insincere, rude.
I hope the churning and the idiocy are limited to this warped lunatic night.
I was relieved after five hours of choreography and three hours of rehearsal today, then realized there is half the song left.
2.9.10
Unison
I was watching Jessica and Magdalene from behind, half hiding so the camera won't catch me with one sock on, half peeking because oh - my - god. It reminded me of Jessica and Tina at one of the first classes. They were the same texture, the same feeling. With Jess and Mag, it was like watching two superheroes with distinct superpowers, simultaneously identical and different. They danced in perfect unison also, but Mag, amazingly, somehow injected bits of her style while staying faithful to Jessica's fluidity and overall interpretation. Mag would have moments of hardness, and moments when she sits squarely on the music, while Jessica prefers the delayed response. But the moments are never out of place. The perfect example of giving your own flavour without consuming and mutilating the original choreography - was it skilful compromise on Mag's part, or the happenstance of two compatible dancers?
29.8.10
Herdless
I read Hermann Hesse's Siddhartha (1922) yesterday. It is a book Magnus recommended earlier this year, said it had greatly influenced his thoughts, I think, although he apparently didn't contract the severe individualism of the protagonist who says, "I must judge for myself. I must choose and reject." I like the economy of words - pleasure to an ADD mind. I'm not an expert, but the novel reads like a Buddhist parable, only Eastern spiritual enlightenment crosses with Western intellectual enlightenment, slips into the New Age God-less humanism of someone like Oprah's Eckhart Tolle.
Nobody was so alone as he. He was no nobleman, belonging to any aristocracy, no artisan belonging to any guild and finding refuge in it, sharing its life and language. He was no Brahmin, sharing the life of the Brahmins, no ascetic belonging to the Samanas. Even the most secluded hermit in the woods was not one and alone; he also belonged to a class of people. Govinda had become a monk and thousands of monks were his brothers, wore the same gown, shared his beliefs and spoke his language. But he, Siddhartha, where did he belong? Whose life would he share? Whose language would he speak?
I love the idea of bucking the herd - not for its own sake, but to avoid herding - for its own sake. Homeless as I am vocation-wise, there is the anticipation of finding a place to belong, yet also the aversion of slipping into a place to belong. Many slip. In dance, I feel like a nomad. Sometimes, with a style or certain dancers I think, "Have I found it! Is this home?" but shortly after, "I don't think so". Maybe I am too picky. Maybe I am too averse. This evening is the second rehearsal for Jessica's O School Recital item, which I am very privileged to be in. Again, she was for me the main attraction in T.H.E's The Man in the Centre, where she seemed a little slave-driven into the vigorous dance sequences and more sustained partnerwork. I wonder what really centres her. Family, sometimes? Dance? Dance de-centres me. Nothing calls to attention the self like the entire self in motion, in front of a mirror, in front of a camera, in front of people. There you are. Eek!
These eyes do not tolerate 3D, a both physically and mentally painful experience. I go to the cinema not to visit the amusement park. Stop waving, throwing, flying things at my face! No Ooh or Aah here, only Ouch. The way figures jut out in a second plane from the background like cardboard cut-outs is ironically less realistic than 2D. The pop-up effect used clumsily kills the idea of the frame, makes it irrelevant. There is no more composition, no more perception of the scene as a whole. Watching Step Up 3D, the only thing 3D seems to handle well is ground perspectives, the worm's eye view - that and waving, throwing, flying things at your face, if that's your thing.
At the start of Step Up 3D, the clichéd question Why dance? gives rise to clichéd responses such as "it's like breathing, it's like walking to me", "I'm more myself when I dance than any other moment in the day", "when you dance, you are free". They are probably honest, and therefore are true, but when it comes to say, an awkward boy, "I'm more myself when I dance than any other moment in the day" may not be a purely desirable feeling. Dance really is an extension of the personality. Breathing and walking are, regrettably, two of my lesser skills.
I'm quite sick of instructors saying This is dancing, that is not, This is hip hop, that is not. Worst of all, it smells of herds and half-knowledge. It's always men, do you realize? There is likely a direct connection between boundaries and ego: 贬低别人抬高自己. It is impersonal, unconscious, irritating. It's probably also a man who says This is the enemy, This is marriage, This is God, This is Sparta!!!! I am not ignorant, but you are hateful. I'm not preaching. I'm venting. Ugh!
Sometimes I wish I could separate the dance from the politics, philosophy of the dancer. In Osaka though, I wish I knew what they were saying. The instruction is at a different level. We took three classes from Megumi, and though I sensed her a creature of repetition and experience, there is still sharpness and attentiveness in her teaching. Yokoi gave a presidential speech, in the best-possible sense. How strange to find a hip hop dancer who carries himself with such noble poise. In parts, Kato reminded me of Daniel (complete with crazy hair), Kyogo of Bryan (complete with forearms knocking a big cross while frowning), Takami of Choon Hui (complete with love for kids), and Masumi of E-Chiing (complete with slo-mo sit-ups). Akane was super cute when explaining (Wheee!), turned a beast when dancing. Yukimi's choreography seemed simple but nobody did it like her. Mika Nagaya lost herself in the music, swaying, Yoko Ono hair down, eyes closed, while a dancer seemed to scream, Look at me! Look at me! Tomoko liked to close her eyes too, but maybe all modern dancers tend towards spiritualism (kookiness). Hal with anime enthusiasm was not-so-secretly a sadistic slave-driver. Shingo rox my sox thrice over - rock star dancer without the rock star ego. I loved his and Reiko's classes the most. Reiko was perfectly imperfect. Rarely is someone in public so oneself all the time, and probably unconsciously so too. The four most pure-awe-inspiring dancers must be Reiko every time she moved or marked, Narie flowing a mighty river to Toni Braxton's Yesterday, the heavily under-rated Sayaka doing isolations (you can check out her contortionist hip hop here and here), and perhaps most unexpectedly jaw-dropping of all, Lee warming up to lush epic ballads. I know Sheila said years ago when you warm up, you are dancing, but I only now understand what it means.
Recent discoveries
- Songbird - elegant and flawed, like Google Chrome, so I will try to stick and adapt to it.
- Microsoft Security Essentials - free anti-virus, y'all! Quick and compact - definitely one of the best things Microsoft has come up with. (via Digital Life)
- Flip SlideHD - I don't own one, but very attractive.
- this Boyzone video - a nice tribute to Stephen Gately. Didn't know he and Ronan were so close.
- producer Greg Kurstin - Marina and the Diamonds' Oh No!, Lily Allen's entire second album, Kylie Minogue's Wow, All Saints' Rock Steady.
- choreographer Tony Testa, who was a Janet dancer for a couple of years, and devised the recent America's Got Talent Kylie performance, which may roughly be described as gentleman's voguing (in stripper clothes). He's only 23. I still wonder who did the choreography for All I See.
- HuK (Chris Loranger), my favourite StarCraft 2 player, who hails from Canada. Full of personality. I was fortunate to catch his hilarious mothership rush live.
- Byrne and Cook's Here Lies Love - this I own: an album-musical about Imelda Marcos; songs sadly sound better apart than together. Still, an incredible effort.
- Rubicon - nothing has quite lived up to its pilot, which I love for its beautiful snail pace and Allen Coulter's direction.
- Slaughterhouse-Five (1969) - Kurt Vonnegut's autobiographical comedy about the Dresden bombing in World War Two. Billy Pilgrim would fare well with the idiots of Tristram Shandy. The first couple of chapters are laugh-out-loud funny.
Nobody was so alone as he. He was no nobleman, belonging to any aristocracy, no artisan belonging to any guild and finding refuge in it, sharing its life and language. He was no Brahmin, sharing the life of the Brahmins, no ascetic belonging to the Samanas. Even the most secluded hermit in the woods was not one and alone; he also belonged to a class of people. Govinda had become a monk and thousands of monks were his brothers, wore the same gown, shared his beliefs and spoke his language. But he, Siddhartha, where did he belong? Whose life would he share? Whose language would he speak?
I love the idea of bucking the herd - not for its own sake, but to avoid herding - for its own sake. Homeless as I am vocation-wise, there is the anticipation of finding a place to belong, yet also the aversion of slipping into a place to belong. Many slip. In dance, I feel like a nomad. Sometimes, with a style or certain dancers I think, "Have I found it! Is this home?" but shortly after, "I don't think so". Maybe I am too picky. Maybe I am too averse. This evening is the second rehearsal for Jessica's O School Recital item, which I am very privileged to be in. Again, she was for me the main attraction in T.H.E's The Man in the Centre, where she seemed a little slave-driven into the vigorous dance sequences and more sustained partnerwork. I wonder what really centres her. Family, sometimes? Dance? Dance de-centres me. Nothing calls to attention the self like the entire self in motion, in front of a mirror, in front of a camera, in front of people. There you are. Eek!
These eyes do not tolerate 3D, a both physically and mentally painful experience. I go to the cinema not to visit the amusement park. Stop waving, throwing, flying things at my face! No Ooh or Aah here, only Ouch. The way figures jut out in a second plane from the background like cardboard cut-outs is ironically less realistic than 2D. The pop-up effect used clumsily kills the idea of the frame, makes it irrelevant. There is no more composition, no more perception of the scene as a whole. Watching Step Up 3D, the only thing 3D seems to handle well is ground perspectives, the worm's eye view - that and waving, throwing, flying things at your face, if that's your thing.
At the start of Step Up 3D, the clichéd question Why dance? gives rise to clichéd responses such as "it's like breathing, it's like walking to me", "I'm more myself when I dance than any other moment in the day", "when you dance, you are free". They are probably honest, and therefore are true, but when it comes to say, an awkward boy, "I'm more myself when I dance than any other moment in the day" may not be a purely desirable feeling. Dance really is an extension of the personality. Breathing and walking are, regrettably, two of my lesser skills.
I'm quite sick of instructors saying This is dancing, that is not, This is hip hop, that is not. Worst of all, it smells of herds and half-knowledge. It's always men, do you realize? There is likely a direct connection between boundaries and ego: 贬低别人抬高自己. It is impersonal, unconscious, irritating. It's probably also a man who says This is the enemy, This is marriage, This is God, This is Sparta!!!! I am not ignorant, but you are hateful. I'm not preaching. I'm venting. Ugh!
Sometimes I wish I could separate the dance from the politics, philosophy of the dancer. In Osaka though, I wish I knew what they were saying. The instruction is at a different level. We took three classes from Megumi, and though I sensed her a creature of repetition and experience, there is still sharpness and attentiveness in her teaching. Yokoi gave a presidential speech, in the best-possible sense. How strange to find a hip hop dancer who carries himself with such noble poise. In parts, Kato reminded me of Daniel (complete with crazy hair), Kyogo of Bryan (complete with forearms knocking a big cross while frowning), Takami of Choon Hui (complete with love for kids), and Masumi of E-Chiing (complete with slo-mo sit-ups). Akane was super cute when explaining (Wheee!), turned a beast when dancing. Yukimi's choreography seemed simple but nobody did it like her. Mika Nagaya lost herself in the music, swaying, Yoko Ono hair down, eyes closed, while a dancer seemed to scream, Look at me! Look at me! Tomoko liked to close her eyes too, but maybe all modern dancers tend towards spiritualism (kookiness). Hal with anime enthusiasm was not-so-secretly a sadistic slave-driver. Shingo rox my sox thrice over - rock star dancer without the rock star ego. I loved his and Reiko's classes the most. Reiko was perfectly imperfect. Rarely is someone in public so oneself all the time, and probably unconsciously so too. The four most pure-awe-inspiring dancers must be Reiko every time she moved or marked, Narie flowing a mighty river to Toni Braxton's Yesterday, the heavily under-rated Sayaka doing isolations (you can check out her contortionist hip hop here and here), and perhaps most unexpectedly jaw-dropping of all, Lee warming up to lush epic ballads. I know Sheila said years ago when you warm up, you are dancing, but I only now understand what it means.
Recent discoveries
- Songbird - elegant and flawed, like Google Chrome, so I will try to stick and adapt to it.
- Microsoft Security Essentials - free anti-virus, y'all! Quick and compact - definitely one of the best things Microsoft has come up with. (via Digital Life)
- Flip SlideHD - I don't own one, but very attractive.
- this Boyzone video - a nice tribute to Stephen Gately. Didn't know he and Ronan were so close.
- producer Greg Kurstin - Marina and the Diamonds' Oh No!, Lily Allen's entire second album, Kylie Minogue's Wow, All Saints' Rock Steady.
- choreographer Tony Testa, who was a Janet dancer for a couple of years, and devised the recent America's Got Talent Kylie performance, which may roughly be described as gentleman's voguing (in stripper clothes). He's only 23. I still wonder who did the choreography for All I See.
- HuK (Chris Loranger), my favourite StarCraft 2 player, who hails from Canada. Full of personality. I was fortunate to catch his hilarious mothership rush live.
- Byrne and Cook's Here Lies Love - this I own: an album-musical about Imelda Marcos; songs sadly sound better apart than together. Still, an incredible effort.
- Rubicon - nothing has quite lived up to its pilot, which I love for its beautiful snail pace and Allen Coulter's direction.
- Slaughterhouse-Five (1969) - Kurt Vonnegut's autobiographical comedy about the Dresden bombing in World War Two. Billy Pilgrim would fare well with the idiots of Tristram Shandy. The first couple of chapters are laugh-out-loud funny.
19.8.10
Less Talk More Action!
I've been sorting through eight years of music, finding the cover art for the songs I keep. This is by far my favourite find:
15.8.10
Uncharted territory
Recently Added (3)
Marina and the Diamonds - Oh No! (video)
Diana Vickers - The Boy Who Murdered Love (video)
Lissie - When I'm Alone (video)
There is quite a number of poorly charting pop gems recently, and the most brilliant of them must be from Marina and the Diamonds, who's emerged more or less at the same time as Florence and the Machine. Marina and the Diamonds is the stage name for Marina Diamandis, as Florence and the Machine is for Florence Welch. Both are fitting and telling monikers, for while the Machine is gloomy and industrial, the Diamonds are bright and playful.
The Wanted - All Time Low (video)
At the other end of things, here is a chart-topping debut from an open-auditioned British pop group, a circumstance similar to the origin of Spice Girls 14 years ago. Also like Spice Girls, there are roughly four out of five decent voices here (and one mute model type). It's not the best song ever, but highly admirable for an intricate arrangement and an immaculate construction that combine the best of current pop trends: it soars like Take That, belts like The Script, thumps like Taio Cruz.
Gorillaz featuring Gruff Rhys and De La Soul - Superfast Jellyfish (video)
Gorillaz are fading under the radar with poorer-than-usual sales and downright abysmal single performances despite rave reviews (e.g. Q - BBC) for their best stuff yet.
Bruno Mars - Just The Way You Are
Bruno Mars, who was the best thing about B.o.B's Nothin' on You, is going places with a voice that reminds me of Elliott Yamin in its pure, raw sugar quality, and resembles Ryan Tedder in its range and strained passion.
Scissor Sisters - Fire with Fire (video)
Kylie Minogue - Get Outta My Way
Katy Perry - Teenage Dream (video)
Yolanda Be Cool and DCUP - We No Speak Americano (video)
Katy Perry may just be the strongest music-maker this year. Teenage Dream is definitely her best song so far, with a promo video where she looks her best so far. Another well-suited video accompanies We No Speak Americano, a fun but horribly repetitive song. Thankfully a brief radio edit shows mercy.
Marina and the Diamonds - Oh No! (video)
Diana Vickers - The Boy Who Murdered Love (video)
Lissie - When I'm Alone (video)
There is quite a number of poorly charting pop gems recently, and the most brilliant of them must be from Marina and the Diamonds, who's emerged more or less at the same time as Florence and the Machine. Marina and the Diamonds is the stage name for Marina Diamandis, as Florence and the Machine is for Florence Welch. Both are fitting and telling monikers, for while the Machine is gloomy and industrial, the Diamonds are bright and playful.
The Wanted - All Time Low (video)
At the other end of things, here is a chart-topping debut from an open-auditioned British pop group, a circumstance similar to the origin of Spice Girls 14 years ago. Also like Spice Girls, there are roughly four out of five decent voices here (and one mute model type). It's not the best song ever, but highly admirable for an intricate arrangement and an immaculate construction that combine the best of current pop trends: it soars like Take That, belts like The Script, thumps like Taio Cruz.
Gorillaz featuring Gruff Rhys and De La Soul - Superfast Jellyfish (video)
Gorillaz are fading under the radar with poorer-than-usual sales and downright abysmal single performances despite rave reviews (e.g. Q - BBC) for their best stuff yet.
Bruno Mars - Just The Way You Are
Bruno Mars, who was the best thing about B.o.B's Nothin' on You, is going places with a voice that reminds me of Elliott Yamin in its pure, raw sugar quality, and resembles Ryan Tedder in its range and strained passion.
Scissor Sisters - Fire with Fire (video)
Kylie Minogue - Get Outta My Way
Katy Perry - Teenage Dream (video)
Yolanda Be Cool and DCUP - We No Speak Americano (video)
Katy Perry may just be the strongest music-maker this year. Teenage Dream is definitely her best song so far, with a promo video where she looks her best so far. Another well-suited video accompanies We No Speak Americano, a fun but horribly repetitive song. Thankfully a brief radio edit shows mercy.
24.7.10
Fortnight in Osaka
I went to Japan with four people who don't eat sashimi.
(What are the odds!?)
(What are the odds!?)
1. Before flight a four-dollar Jack's Place chicken pie like how I imagine prison food is bland nearly induces upchuck. 2. Nankai line takes a year to bring us to Rinku Town, where I see furry shoes. Busking singer at Tennoji station induces upwelling. 3. Shingo, Megumi (You Are Not Alone), Akane (Wizzy Wow), Kato. Japan loves Janet. 4. Yukimi (Blood on the Dance Floor), Narie (Yesterday), Reiko (Alejandro), Shige, Nisshan. 5. No snow or sakura, but the Japanese garden at Tennoji Park is pretty in the rain. 6. Four storeys of Dojima Hotel serve as galleries for Art Osaka. Nakanoshima promenade is pleasantly deserted at night. 7. Otters roll and jellyfish glow at Osaka Aquarium Kaiyukan. 8. Kyoto gives gold but no Zen, tofu but no sunset. 9. Solo hike discovers Utsubo Park and Tennis Center, road-side bento ladies, and D&DEPARTMENT in Horie. Megumi (Dreamer), Masumi, Kyogo twice. 10. Shingo, Lee (Dancing), Shohei, Yokoi, Reiko (I Am Not a Whore). 11. Nara deer shun a cuddle but crave a nibble. One stall sells both the best daifuku (green tea mochi with red bean centre) and the best senbei (speckled shards in assorted savours). 12. Takami, Narie, Mika Nagaya, Megumi, Sayaka. Late night Amerikamura featuring Bikkle, oden daikon, and Standard Bookstore. 13. Tomoko, Reiko, Hal (Freak), Tatsuya. 14. Posters and animation at National Museum of Art, followed by four hours of puppetry at National Bunraku Theater.
5. Rain.
5. Namba. Pedestrians are go.
9. Utsubo Tennis Center.
11. "Don't touch my groin."
21.7.10
The Great Happiness Space
I re-watched The Great Happiness Space last night. It is indeed set in Osaka. The opening shot is of its skyline, with the familiar subway chime and voice-over in the background. The documentary presents yet another side of the city, the world of the host club. Protagonist Issei explains, "When people ask me what a host does I say it's a business of selling dreams to people. In other words we have fake love relationships." Makes me wonder, though, how real relationships generally are; perhaps the host club merely brings relationships to an honest extreme, where transactions and delusions are openly acknowledged and deliberately indulged. I love the film. There are more layers of human nature and webs of lies in it than I can unravel in just one sitting. General Manager Kanata remarks in conclusion, "People are not so strong, especially alone. People are lonely and sad." It is then fascinating what we do to cope, or to convince ourselves otherwise.
23.6.10
Hello summer
RECENTLY ADDED (2)
Katy Perry f. Snoop Dogg 'California Gurls' (video)
I've recently realized how Armani Exchange and Guess stores are often situated near each other in retail spaces, their proximity revealed by the identical and cliched "Sex on a beach/We don't mind sand in our stilettos" ad spreads plastered across their window displays.
Sara Bareilles 'King Of Anything' (video)
I don't think there can be enough of Sara Bareilles. Muse to some incredible choreography I've experienced recently - Magnus' Winter Song and Steph's Gravity - her new single is probably too jaunty to reach the same heights of the sublime, but it is joy still.
Estelle f. Nas 'Fall In Love' (video)
In a move as irritating as running out of a videoed choreography, recording artists like to rechristen flop releases as buzz singles, in an attempt to preserve an already less-than-stellar track record. A flop is a flop. A flop buzz single (Freak) is no more dignified than a flop official single (Fall In Love).
Robyn 'Fembot'
Robyn, on the other hand, operates aboveboard, offers three promo singles and one official single. A single is a single, though, and Fembot, bright and hooks aplenty, is the best of the lot.
Kris Allen 'The Truth' (video)
If record companies often seem desperate in tacking a featured artist onto a single for the sheer sake of clout (in Estelle's case, they couldn't even decide which, and released two versions, the second with John Legend), the ludicrous inclusion of Pat Monahan of Train to butcher the middle eight in Kris Allen's The Truth takes the cake, a version I refuse to acknowledge. Here is my splice of the radio and album versions. I was going to use this song for the jazz class Chun asked me to replace but lately realized I cannot make it.
Pixie Lott 'Turn It Up' (video)
I haven't been a fan of Pixie Lott's songs thus far, but this pocketful of Natasha Bedingfield is highly agreeable.
Kylie Minogue 'All The Lovers' (video)
There's something un-sexy about a Christmas tree-shaped orgy... It's a great song, though - hope she gets another UK number one. It's about time!
Katharine McPhee and Zachary Levi 'Terrified' (video)
This is apparently another promotional single, but thankfully money came from somewhere to make a pretty video for it. Who is Zachary Levi? He is Chuck!
Fyfe Dangerfield 'She's Always A Woman' (video)
It was incredibly refreshing to hear this song in the piles and piles of disheartening dross that is this year's music, a good tune, thoughtful lyrics and a heartfelt vocal so hard to come by today. To my sad surprise I find out that it is in fact not entirely modern, but a cover of Billy Joel (sad piano man who gave my favourite sad piano song And So It Goes). Fyfe is the frontman of English band Guillemots, who make pretty good music themselves. This cover was popularized on a John Lewis commercial (video), which tellingly leaves the choruses out.
M.I.A. 'Born Free' (video)
Firstly, a warning that the video contains violence of the simulated slow-motion splattery sort. Another non-official single (I don't quite like any M.I.A. track whose title starts with X), Born Free is accomplished beautiful noise, which to me is essentially what rock should be. The nine-minute video, like the song, is all atmosphere, palpitation, urgency, and claustrophobia, although I probably wouldn't watch it again anytime soon.
Katy Perry f. Snoop Dogg 'California Gurls' (video)
I've recently realized how Armani Exchange and Guess stores are often situated near each other in retail spaces, their proximity revealed by the identical and cliched "Sex on a beach/We don't mind sand in our stilettos" ad spreads plastered across their window displays.
Sara Bareilles 'King Of Anything' (video)
I don't think there can be enough of Sara Bareilles. Muse to some incredible choreography I've experienced recently - Magnus' Winter Song and Steph's Gravity - her new single is probably too jaunty to reach the same heights of the sublime, but it is joy still.
Estelle f. Nas 'Fall In Love' (video)
In a move as irritating as running out of a videoed choreography, recording artists like to rechristen flop releases as buzz singles, in an attempt to preserve an already less-than-stellar track record. A flop is a flop. A flop buzz single (Freak) is no more dignified than a flop official single (Fall In Love).
Robyn 'Fembot'
Robyn, on the other hand, operates aboveboard, offers three promo singles and one official single. A single is a single, though, and Fembot, bright and hooks aplenty, is the best of the lot.
Kris Allen 'The Truth' (video)
If record companies often seem desperate in tacking a featured artist onto a single for the sheer sake of clout (in Estelle's case, they couldn't even decide which, and released two versions, the second with John Legend), the ludicrous inclusion of Pat Monahan of Train to butcher the middle eight in Kris Allen's The Truth takes the cake, a version I refuse to acknowledge. Here is my splice of the radio and album versions. I was going to use this song for the jazz class Chun asked me to replace but lately realized I cannot make it.
Pixie Lott 'Turn It Up' (video)
I haven't been a fan of Pixie Lott's songs thus far, but this pocketful of Natasha Bedingfield is highly agreeable.
Kylie Minogue 'All The Lovers' (video)
There's something un-sexy about a Christmas tree-shaped orgy... It's a great song, though - hope she gets another UK number one. It's about time!
Katharine McPhee and Zachary Levi 'Terrified' (video)
This is apparently another promotional single, but thankfully money came from somewhere to make a pretty video for it. Who is Zachary Levi? He is Chuck!
Fyfe Dangerfield 'She's Always A Woman' (video)
It was incredibly refreshing to hear this song in the piles and piles of disheartening dross that is this year's music, a good tune, thoughtful lyrics and a heartfelt vocal so hard to come by today. To my sad surprise I find out that it is in fact not entirely modern, but a cover of Billy Joel (sad piano man who gave my favourite sad piano song And So It Goes). Fyfe is the frontman of English band Guillemots, who make pretty good music themselves. This cover was popularized on a John Lewis commercial (video), which tellingly leaves the choruses out.
M.I.A. 'Born Free' (video)
Firstly, a warning that the video contains violence of the simulated slow-motion splattery sort. Another non-official single (I don't quite like any M.I.A. track whose title starts with X), Born Free is accomplished beautiful noise, which to me is essentially what rock should be. The nine-minute video, like the song, is all atmosphere, palpitation, urgency, and claustrophobia, although I probably wouldn't watch it again anytime soon.
17.6.10
I don't know why I woke up
7 am. I don't know why I woke up. I had tossed till quite a late hour. It was pouring outside. I had a mug of Milo with random hunk of bread, watched a video, felt incredibly stupid, and went back to bed.
8 am. Set alarm back. And again. And again. And again. And again.
10 am. Toss toss. Dad asks what bags are. I ask where car is. I walk straight past car in the basement to take the lift to the higher decks where I spiral up and down lugging the bags. Drive was good, except for honky tonk badonkadonk driver from right vying for same lane as I from left.
11 am. I open the front door wordless. Drove home and got ready for lunch with dad and aunt's family (her treat) at AquaMarine.
1 pm. Me likey oysters.
3 pm. Dad drops me off at Orchard Central. I descend into the basement and read by the three urns. Read was highly enjoyable, as was being artificially hugged in the cold. A nap in a chiropractically unsound position led to neckache and loss of appetite.
6 pm. I reached O School early to change and defrost for Gin and Fredy's. Forgetstepititis (coupled today with bronchitis) strikes more frequently nowadays.
9 pm. The hater is finally revealed after crispy chicken and a sip of milk tea, although I wonder if he was the only one.
10 pm. Bus home with Puay Son.
8 am. Set alarm back. And again. And again. And again. And again.
10 am. Toss toss. Dad asks what bags are. I ask where car is. I walk straight past car in the basement to take the lift to the higher decks where I spiral up and down lugging the bags. Drive was good, except for honky tonk badonkadonk driver from right vying for same lane as I from left.
11 am. I open the front door wordless. Drove home and got ready for lunch with dad and aunt's family (her treat) at AquaMarine.
1 pm. Me likey oysters.
3 pm. Dad drops me off at Orchard Central. I descend into the basement and read by the three urns. Read was highly enjoyable, as was being artificially hugged in the cold. A nap in a chiropractically unsound position led to neckache and loss of appetite.
6 pm. I reached O School early to change and defrost for Gin and Fredy's. Forgetstepititis (coupled today with bronchitis) strikes more frequently nowadays.
9 pm. The hater is finally revealed after crispy chicken and a sip of milk tea, although I wonder if he was the only one.
10 pm. Bus home with Puay Son.
9.6.10
Gravity
It was joy to get third for Dance Xplosion, relief to have it all be over. All my try-tries-again and jiayou-Freds worked out okay onstage I think. Anyone who thinks I should be at a job by now probably doesn't understand the loss of time. I don't know what our future as a team is, but it will be tough regardless.
Stephanie Phua sharing GRAVITY tmrw! noon nyhse. contempish. last min but come if ure free :)
Saturday at 02:31
Steph + Gravity just sounded like amazingness. Yvonne probably bobbed by her computer screen when I told her about it. I tried to ask Steph on Chat whether (acquainted) strangers were allowed but she had crashed I think. I said to Yvonne that Steph is probably the kind to appreciate ballsiness and "confirm plus points" for two eager zombies showing up at her doorstep. And so we plotted to crash the session.
The early-morning journey to China was nice. Cool weather. Half-empty train. Climb up deserted hill. Sighting of soaring black hornbill with white-fringed wings (Yvonne spotted an inverse-coloured one too). It was a long wait before Vernon and Xiao Jun appeared, and some time more before Steph arrived apologetic.
Steph + Gravity was amazingness. She was paiseh about her "notpreparedtoteachness", but it was just the amorphous musicality. She taught well. Choreography was simple and beautiful. Filthying the mirror was shockingly poignant; leaning against the cold, flat, unresponsive surface, the vertical plane gives no rest, and all you find is your own reflection. The session was a lot like my Platform? I've been endlessly repeating the song and recapping the steps. Steph even wrote "Learning to Let Go is always a struggle" at the end of her video. LOL. Her solo was awesome--effusive, natural, complete with dancey dynamics.
In the evening, I went to watch Eonnagata. I loved it. Lighting and costume are state-of-the-art. Sylvie Guillem is a feisty ballerina. Russell Maliphant is strong, present and beautiful. Robert Lepage sadly pales in comparison, but you are compelled to cut him some slack after learning that he is not trained as a dancer. The three are 45, 48, 52 years old respectively. Gives us all hope, no?
I finally made it for an Elm Pizarro class on Monday. To steal Yvonne's words, he is charming to a fault (to me, much like Alvin de Castro before him). He taught Marques Houston's Circle. I love the groove and flow of his style, and the long phrasing of his choreography.
On my way home, with a drizzle on my skin and Gravity in my ears, it suddenly occurred to me that "to drown in your love and not feel your rain" means to be completely and continually immersed in you and not to just experience tiny, intermittent drops. A+ for me.
Stephanie Phua sharing GRAVITY tmrw! noon nyhse. contempish. last min but come if ure free :)
Saturday at 02:31
Steph + Gravity just sounded like amazingness. Yvonne probably bobbed by her computer screen when I told her about it. I tried to ask Steph on Chat whether (acquainted) strangers were allowed but she had crashed I think. I said to Yvonne that Steph is probably the kind to appreciate ballsiness and "confirm plus points" for two eager zombies showing up at her doorstep. And so we plotted to crash the session.
The early-morning journey to China was nice. Cool weather. Half-empty train. Climb up deserted hill. Sighting of soaring black hornbill with white-fringed wings (Yvonne spotted an inverse-coloured one too). It was a long wait before Vernon and Xiao Jun appeared, and some time more before Steph arrived apologetic.
Steph + Gravity was amazingness. She was paiseh about her "notpreparedtoteachness", but it was just the amorphous musicality. She taught well. Choreography was simple and beautiful. Filthying the mirror was shockingly poignant; leaning against the cold, flat, unresponsive surface, the vertical plane gives no rest, and all you find is your own reflection. The session was a lot like my Platform? I've been endlessly repeating the song and recapping the steps. Steph even wrote "Learning to Let Go is always a struggle" at the end of her video. LOL. Her solo was awesome--effusive, natural, complete with dancey dynamics.
In the evening, I went to watch Eonnagata. I loved it. Lighting and costume are state-of-the-art. Sylvie Guillem is a feisty ballerina. Russell Maliphant is strong, present and beautiful. Robert Lepage sadly pales in comparison, but you are compelled to cut him some slack after learning that he is not trained as a dancer. The three are 45, 48, 52 years old respectively. Gives us all hope, no?
I finally made it for an Elm Pizarro class on Monday. To steal Yvonne's words, he is charming to a fault (to me, much like Alvin de Castro before him). He taught Marques Houston's Circle. I love the groove and flow of his style, and the long phrasing of his choreography.
On my way home, with a drizzle on my skin and Gravity in my ears, it suddenly occurred to me that "to drown in your love and not feel your rain" means to be completely and continually immersed in you and not to just experience tiny, intermittent drops. A+ for me.
21.5.10
Roll out
This is an open letter to the autobots. I know I've annoyed every single one of you to different degrees at different numbers of points in time, and so before things get irreparably worse, or especially if they have already fallen into an irreparable state, here is a little bit of catharsis, to express my gratitude and appreciation which are necessarily inexpressible in real life, since I am quite a guy sometimes, knowing that most of you probably won't read this, although the party involved in the most broken down and most likely irreparable relationship probably will.
I will here concur with Yvonne, who in a text the night before said, "i <3 your cast. Awesome people and dancers." There is no other time when I could have got this group together, partly because I am only ready now, as are you, and you would have still been a foetus before this. There is no one else I would ask. This is my dream team, in a sense, not because we are the tightest dance- or life-wise, but because I know things get rough, and I need people whom I admire as dancers, and more importantly, deeply respect as persons, to cushion the brunt of this emotional wreck. Thank you for dealing with my rubbish. This post would have been the easiest to write when things were going very well. Even though last night's rehearsal wasn't the best, and I am now dizzier than ever, I am more thankful than ever for all you have given of yourselves. Roll out tomorrow!
I will here concur with Yvonne, who in a text the night before said, "i <3 your cast. Awesome people and dancers." There is no other time when I could have got this group together, partly because I am only ready now, as are you, and you would have still been a foetus before this. There is no one else I would ask. This is my dream team, in a sense, not because we are the tightest dance- or life-wise, but because I know things get rough, and I need people whom I admire as dancers, and more importantly, deeply respect as persons, to cushion the brunt of this emotional wreck. Thank you for dealing with my rubbish. This post would have been the easiest to write when things were going very well. Even though last night's rehearsal wasn't the best, and I am now dizzier than ever, I am more thankful than ever for all you have given of yourselves. Roll out tomorrow!
17.5.10
To cure the soul by means of the senses
Perfect weather follows a perfect storm. The flood has subsided. Moisture clings not to the skin but to the ground. All is cleansed, calmed, quieted, conquered by water; even the sun. The air is cool and invigorating. A draught caresses the forearms. A wintry tune tinkles in the ears. The road is clear.
*
A mug of mocha art may not say very much, but its warmth gloves the hands. As the vessel tilts to and fro, the brown tide drifts in obedience. Flow: the liquid spreads, bittersweet swirls flourish on its surface, multiplying like curly vines, before the molten mass crashes snug on the tongue. Ebb: the waters recede hastily, the gnarled figures are erased, the warmth grows mild.
*
A mug of mocha art may not say very much, but its warmth gloves the hands. As the vessel tilts to and fro, the brown tide drifts in obedience. Flow: the liquid spreads, bittersweet swirls flourish on its surface, multiplying like curly vines, before the molten mass crashes snug on the tongue. Ebb: the waters recede hastily, the gnarled figures are erased, the warmth grows mild.
29.4.10
Songs with pictures
RECENTLY ADDED (1)
Who cares about my life? Let's talk about music. When someone I recently met proudly proclaimed that she sends "songs with pictures", the eager beaver music monger in me became at once amused and ashamed. And so now, in order to maintain my one-uppance, I include fully solicited and wholly necessary commentary!
Usher f will.i.am 'OMG' (video)
This is my Ah Beng Guilty Pleasure *SLURP*. You can hear a gaggle of them chanting in the background. No-brainer sure-fire chart-topper. will.i.am bestows upon Usher his highly successful boom-pow outer-space aesthetic. I love his incredible adaptability as a producer, unlike
David Guetta f Kid Cudi 'Memories' (video)
the Guetta, who although bears the sound-of-the-moment, is quite one-trick, and so should not last for long,
Kelis 'Acapella [sic]' (video)
yet I must say his work for Kelis has produced the coolest song this year (so far), accompanied by the coolest video this year (so far).
Cheryl Cole 'Parachute' (video)
Another mark of will.i.am's versatility is his work with Cheryl Cole, their "3 Words" being for me last year's coolest song with coolest video. This new single was co-written by Ingrid Michaelson! Plus 20 points.
Chris Brown f Ester Dean 'I <3 U'
Barn Dance Everybody!!!
Pink 'Glitter In The Air' (video)
If you haven't watched both Pink's 2010 Grammys and 2009 VMA performances go and hunt them down now! I love her voice. And her fearlessness.
Laura Izibor 'If Tonight Is My Last' (video)
She looks kinda like Alicia Keys, sounds kinda like Alicia Keys, has Irish and African heritage like Alicia Keys, is here mixed by Alicia Keys collaborator Krucial...
Justin Nozuka 'My Heart Is Yours' (video)
The new album is "You I Wind Land And Sea". This is its happy-go-beachy first single. Upbeat Nozuka = Mraz.
Sugababes 'Wear My Kiss' (video)
This is my Ah Lian Guilty Pleasure *SLURRRPPP*. Sugababes haven't had a song this catchy in half a decade.
Christina Aguilera 'Not Myself Tonight' (video)
Christina Aguilera goes electro-Dirrty, but comes nowhere near the edginess the lead single of an album called "Bionic" should have. Polow Da Don sounds dated, rips off Timbaland circa "The Way I Are". This comeback single is kind of a letdown, but it'll do.
Who cares about my life? Let's talk about music. When someone I recently met proudly proclaimed that she sends "songs with pictures", the eager beaver music monger in me became at once amused and ashamed. And so now, in order to maintain my one-uppance, I include fully solicited and wholly necessary commentary!
Usher f will.i.am 'OMG' (video)
This is my Ah Beng Guilty Pleasure *SLURP*. You can hear a gaggle of them chanting in the background. No-brainer sure-fire chart-topper. will.i.am bestows upon Usher his highly successful boom-pow outer-space aesthetic. I love his incredible adaptability as a producer, unlike
David Guetta f Kid Cudi 'Memories' (video)
the Guetta, who although bears the sound-of-the-moment, is quite one-trick, and so should not last for long,
Kelis 'Acapella [sic]' (video)
yet I must say his work for Kelis has produced the coolest song this year (so far), accompanied by the coolest video this year (so far).
Cheryl Cole 'Parachute' (video)
Another mark of will.i.am's versatility is his work with Cheryl Cole, their "3 Words" being for me last year's coolest song with coolest video. This new single was co-written by Ingrid Michaelson! Plus 20 points.
Chris Brown f Ester Dean 'I <3 U'
Barn Dance Everybody!!!
Pink 'Glitter In The Air' (video)
If you haven't watched both Pink's 2010 Grammys and 2009 VMA performances go and hunt them down now! I love her voice. And her fearlessness.
Laura Izibor 'If Tonight Is My Last' (video)
She looks kinda like Alicia Keys, sounds kinda like Alicia Keys, has Irish and African heritage like Alicia Keys, is here mixed by Alicia Keys collaborator Krucial...
Justin Nozuka 'My Heart Is Yours' (video)
The new album is "You I Wind Land And Sea". This is its happy-go-beachy first single. Upbeat Nozuka = Mraz.
Sugababes 'Wear My Kiss' (video)
This is my Ah Lian Guilty Pleasure *SLURRRPPP*. Sugababes haven't had a song this catchy in half a decade.
Christina Aguilera 'Not Myself Tonight' (video)
Christina Aguilera goes electro-Dirrty, but comes nowhere near the edginess the lead single of an album called "Bionic" should have. Polow Da Don sounds dated, rips off Timbaland circa "The Way I Are". This comeback single is kind of a letdown, but it'll do.
26.4.10
When all you need is a knife
This is a bunch of words at the end of a deceptively long day of a not-very-eventful life. I guess we can call it forced vomit. Day started off with a flash mob (of sorts) for Rashidah at Clarke Quay. Lunch afterwards made me late for Kevin-Xu Zi rehearsal at PA. Looking back I should have just squeezed in an Ah Then class. Vetting for Labour Day Istana show was followed by vetting for Danz People recital. Clement and Chun were great; I saw half the item live, and the other half later on video. Pat cheered like I had never seen, or had not seen in a long time. Esther's equestrian costume for Mash lacked only a whip--I loved it. It was strange not having all three lawyers around for the first time. I floated in, and floated out. I just saw the music video for World Expo. I wish it wasn't so National-Day, even if the occasion is very National-Day. The various elements and segments also seem disparate, bound only by their National-Day aesthetic. But the main thought watching the video was that it was a good call to turn down the Singapore Arts Festival.
Platform went very well. I think it went better for those who came to support me (or those who dropped by) than for myself. I don't think my choreography was particularly amazing. But I'm glad it worked; it flowed, it connected with the music, maybe even furthered it. If only I could start on time or end a little later, I would have liked to watch, and to block. The response again indicates that what I'm best at may not be what I love doing the most, the other instance being funk jazz. Or maybe I'm just masochistic. Platform ended the post-graduation season of choreography, which began with the rehashing of all-girl items for a Blast show and CFA Open House. Looking back the money should have just gone completely into the concert fund. Speaking of which, as most have heard by now, our tenth anniversary, and hence also my collaboration with Chun, is postponed to next year, a forever-amusing outcome of the Tau Huay Talk between Kelvin, Esther, Magnus, Poonie and myself after vetting last Saturday, henceforth known by me as the 5-6-7-9 incident.
Emotional rollercoaster of emotional rollercoasters, although it is a slow and a slow-changing one, and includes middle-of-the-road sentiments such as casual bewilderment, frigid emptiness, and general epistemological crisis. I don't want to smudge your life. (Nobody likes a nasty breakout.) I'm masochistic but I'm not sadistic. Collateral damage is no fun. I've always thought my history cyclical. You prove me wrong, many times, many ways. I'm hoping you prove me wronger. I have more than I ever asked for. Dare I ask for more? And to the reader, if my blogging has become too cryptic for your taste, (a) Blame Poonie, and (b) Try Poonie's. Haha.
Platform went very well. I think it went better for those who came to support me (or those who dropped by) than for myself. I don't think my choreography was particularly amazing. But I'm glad it worked; it flowed, it connected with the music, maybe even furthered it. If only I could start on time or end a little later, I would have liked to watch, and to block. The response again indicates that what I'm best at may not be what I love doing the most, the other instance being funk jazz. Or maybe I'm just masochistic. Platform ended the post-graduation season of choreography, which began with the rehashing of all-girl items for a Blast show and CFA Open House. Looking back the money should have just gone completely into the concert fund. Speaking of which, as most have heard by now, our tenth anniversary, and hence also my collaboration with Chun, is postponed to next year, a forever-amusing outcome of the Tau Huay Talk between Kelvin, Esther, Magnus, Poonie and myself after vetting last Saturday, henceforth known by me as the 5-6-7-9 incident.
Emotional rollercoaster of emotional rollercoasters, although it is a slow and a slow-changing one, and includes middle-of-the-road sentiments such as casual bewilderment, frigid emptiness, and general epistemological crisis. I don't want to smudge your life. (Nobody likes a nasty breakout.) I'm masochistic but I'm not sadistic. Collateral damage is no fun. I've always thought my history cyclical. You prove me wrong, many times, many ways. I'm hoping you prove me wronger. I have more than I ever asked for. Dare I ask for more? And to the reader, if my blogging has become too cryptic for your taste, (a) Blame Poonie, and (b) Try Poonie's. Haha.
4.4.10
Cue go
BlinkIt was a great privilege to choreograph for both Blast and Ensemble's EMCCs this year. I'm proud of how both items turned out, even if the Ensemble one was less rehearsed, more confused, more laboured (a series of failed experiments, both with choreography and lights). My anti-CYC light designs turned out well for both (Chun expressed great pride on Thursday!). I discovered the beauty of aperiodic flashing washes, learnt the power of old-school faders (Mazlan), the importance of scene change and light movement (Chun). The Blast item ended a resounding success; it became what it was meant to be. Candy, Daryl, Wei Zong, Jennifer, Pao Yau loved it. And I'm always very heartened when Pat expresses his approval of my work. The Ensemble item remained on shaky ground, falling this way and that. My dancing for the concert only shifted into the right gear during bump-in. Up till then I was slightly regretful of giving up Choreographers' Ball. Many memories were made within the last week--among these, rehearsals at Temasek Labs both in the night and in the day, the incredibly provocative character of a lighting designer, Sharon bawling, Bao Wei bawling, Steff bawling, ...
Smile
Casio Edifice win. Calvin Klein T-shirt win. Bershka vouchers win. Choony Catcher bear win. Guanaja cake from Rive Gauche win. Coffee cake from The Icing Room also win. And of course, verbal vomit always wins.
Exhale
It's been an eventful and lovely journey since I plunged headlong into dance in 2007, when I danced for Chun, for Hamzah, for Joo Teng, for Xiao, for Pat, choreographed with Xu Zi, and learned much from E-Chiing. In 2008, I danced for Ryan, for Esther, for Ahmad, for I'dil, for Fredy, for Xue Hui, Gin, An An; in 2009, for Zaini, for Fangqi, for Juli and Nazri, for Zaki. This year, I've danced for Kevin, for Wei Long, for Koustav, for Mazlan, choreographed my first two dances for stage. There are no withdrawal symptoms. I move on again. I have Platform two Wednesdays from now--come!
22.3.10
-dot
Saw Flair'Nation with three Lawyers and one very Sociable Political Scientist last night. It was 'Great :)'. The shrieks for Jeremy were well-deserved. The hip hop item was my favourite. Jonas was the best locker. Jean was my favourite dancer. Krump was a surefire crowd-pleaser. Popping to Feeling Good was win. The songs Jen chose to sing were beautiful, especially Terrified (Kara - Kat - Didi). Teadot after. Headache after that.
I don't think my Evocation item is in that bad a shape. But it again feels an awful burden I bear alone. I must be thankful for the dancers I have. I must be thankful for the items I get to dance in. I must finish and finish with my best, and not think about where I am not, who I am without.
I don't think my Evocation item is in that bad a shape. But it again feels an awful burden I bear alone. I must be thankful for the dancers I have. I must be thankful for the items I get to dance in. I must finish and finish with my best, and not think about where I am not, who I am without.
16.3.10
The real hip hop
I just watched Ben's Aus Ninja interview, and am a little worked up over it. I don't know if this is what Ben would call hate for it, but it's definitely a big Dislike. First of all, it's segregationist, exclusivist to make declarations like "I'm from the streets" (i.e. you're from the studio), "I'm in the underground culture in New York" (i.e. you're a Caucasian wannabe from Los Angeles). To say things like "I know Stretch", "I know the history", "the Underground [which Ben capitalizes] is always going to keep the true information and the real information" just sounds gnostic and wack. The conspiracy theory about the origins of "LA hip hop", credit being stolen from "the original people", doesn't help either. If all hip hop is New York, what of the clowning and krumping in LA? If hip hop cannot be robotic, what about the popping and tutting from Fresno? A freestyle dance doesn't create lines? Voguing and waacking, neither?
This is partly a debate on terminology, what is or is not "hip hop", what is "the real hip hop" (Yuck). On the one hand, it's just a name. What you show and do is ultimately the pudding proof. On the other, if you really care so much about the name, please, by all means, take it, put a patent on it. I've always hesitated and struggled to answer people who ask what style of dance I do anyway. "Hip hop" is usually a convenient reply. Shall I spend half an hour enlightening whomever I meet on the topic? Hand out tracts with the URL to this Educational video?
You know what, this is hate. Hate for your hate, Aus Ninja, big disrespect for your disrespect of fellow humans, dancers you refuse to acknowledge and choose to reject. You vote for a divisive, closed culture, built along apartheid lines. We're not dumb. We are aware of the underground, the streets you so cherish, and our exclusion from it. I don't believe that the "Underground" is the only place of creation. What's the difference between sessioning in "some basement" and sessioning at Studio Wu? What is the difference between sessioning at UCC Dance Studio and AS7? There is space for the streets, the studio, the stage, the freestyler, the choreographer, the student, the "robot". I just would rather live and breathe in a world that is inclusive, that celebrates creativity wherever and whoever the source, that allows the blurring of boundaries. Thank you for what you started and created in the underground. It was a product of your personal situation. But don't hate on those who reside in a totally different context, and denounce them as being unable to participate in and contribute to the art of dance.
This is partly a debate on terminology, what is or is not "hip hop", what is "the real hip hop" (Yuck). On the one hand, it's just a name. What you show and do is ultimately the pudding proof. On the other, if you really care so much about the name, please, by all means, take it, put a patent on it. I've always hesitated and struggled to answer people who ask what style of dance I do anyway. "Hip hop" is usually a convenient reply. Shall I spend half an hour enlightening whomever I meet on the topic? Hand out tracts with the URL to this Educational video?
You know what, this is hate. Hate for your hate, Aus Ninja, big disrespect for your disrespect of fellow humans, dancers you refuse to acknowledge and choose to reject. You vote for a divisive, closed culture, built along apartheid lines. We're not dumb. We are aware of the underground, the streets you so cherish, and our exclusion from it. I don't believe that the "Underground" is the only place of creation. What's the difference between sessioning in "some basement" and sessioning at Studio Wu? What is the difference between sessioning at UCC Dance Studio and AS7? There is space for the streets, the studio, the stage, the freestyler, the choreographer, the student, the "robot". I just would rather live and breathe in a world that is inclusive, that celebrates creativity wherever and whoever the source, that allows the blurring of boundaries. Thank you for what you started and created in the underground. It was a product of your personal situation. But don't hate on those who reside in a totally different context, and denounce them as being unable to participate in and contribute to the art of dance.
8.3.10
A little bit
I was on the brink at Koustav's rehearsal yesterday morning. A little bit of the frustration was because his choreography had not sunk into my body yet. Most of the sinking feeling came from thinking of and feeling the enormity of the recently encountered quagmire, its numerous problems of allure, rancour, greyness, immiscibility. I must not sit by the little great gold spot again. Words crowd my vision. There is the impulse to conjecture, and there is the need to be Clark Kent. I must not be sucked into the little great black hole again. We exchange mysteries and insecurities. Before the conjectures grow or the feelings fade, I must resist the little great green dot again.
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