18 December 2000

Good news, culture vultures!

I've just come back from a meeting with the National Arts Council, and they've told me their exciting new plans for next year.

Apparently, they're going to shut down all the art groups who participated in this year's No Art Day.

Not because of the political dissent, mind you, but for bottom-line reasons.

According to NAC spokeswoman Phyllis Tin, "What's the use of artists who don't produce art? Where got value for money? Give them grant for what? Bloody lazy good for nothings!"

"Some more, they all want to make these hojjiber cheem-cheem things that no one wants to see," said Ms. Tin. "The whole point of supporting our arts industry is because it supports our tourist industry, mah. If they make cheem-cheem things, and no one chuts money for tickets, then support for what?"

Accordingly, until tenders are received for replacement art groups, the NAC will be producing art themselves.

Naturally, their work will be designed to appeal to as wide an audience as possible, and reflect positively on Singapore's aspirations and achievements.

Here are the highlights:

Harry Does Cambridge!
a lighthearted musical celebrating the undergrad years of our beloved Senior Minister.  Features sure to be hit songs like "Fitzwilliam Blues", "These Colonial Walls (Must Fall)", "Shabba Dabba Double First" and "Geok Choo (I'm a-Lovin' Yoo)".

Every Breath You Take (We'll Be Watching You)
a benefit concert to support the hardworking folks of the Internal Security Department, this will feature orchestral arrangements of old Police songs performed by the Whitley Road Detention Centre String Orchestra. Look out for their especially heartfelt interpretation of "King of Pain".

Building The Moral Wall
an exhibition of the various letters issued by the NAC rejecting proposals for events.  The letters will be enlarged and rendered in cement and dried blood.

Il Glucolino
a specially-commissioned opera about the ill-fated hunger strike of opposition leader Chee Soon Juan, as performed by the Singapore Association of the Tone Deaf Youth Choir. Listen out for the stirring aria "Uno tazza di acqua, molto zucchero" ("A cup of water, more sugar") sung by counter-tenor Esquiza di Ballza.

Also look out for a massive new sculpture, Spheres of Support, in honour of the work done by civil servants to support the nation.  It will depict a lone civil servant valiantly carrying two extremely spherical objects.

I can't wait!

Hello, culture vultures! 

No doubt you're now agonizing over your Christmas shopping.

Well, I have a marvelous suggestion for you. 

Why not give some art to your loved ones this Christmas?

I know what you're thinking: isn't art terribly expensive?

Well, duckies, I'm not suggesting you go out and buy anything. 

To purchase an artistic piece would render it a mere commodity.

Rather, I'm suggesting that you create your own artwork!

Again, you must be thinking: but I'm not an artist!

Wrong again! We all have some art inside of us... it's just a matter of letting it out. 

And almost anything can constitute art.

The real trick is to cook up a 'cheem' sounding explanation for it. For 'tis the 'cheem'-ness of the justification that makes it art.

It's what distinguishes the work of Jackson Pollock from someone who's just dripping random bits of paint onto paper.

So here are some ideas:

1. Take an old fish.  Wrap it tightly in past editions of the Straits Times. Put a nice label on it which says, "Stale News". Ta-dah! Art.

2. Find some old cloth scraps and sew yourself a tiny straightjacket. Place the straightjacket round a bottle of Bovril. Place a label on it which says, "Mad Cow Disease". See? More art!

3. Locate an old garbage can. Paint a nasty, bloodthirsty face on it.  Call it "Killer Litter". Get it?

4. Take an empty glass bottle. Make a red marking somewhere near the middle of the bottle.  Above the mark, write "Pass".  Below the mark, write "Fail".  Then call it "Air-Level". Aren't I a genius?

5.  Fill a plastic cup with your own urine. Splash it on your neighbour's door. When he prosecutes you with his security camera footage, tell him it's piece of performance art which you call "Pissing Off Your Neighbour". Wish him a very merry Christmas.

See? It's all really easy, and cheap too.

The best part of doing this is that next year you'll spend even less on Christmas presents.

This is because you'll have no more friends left.

But hey, you can't have everything.

Hello, culture vultures!

I'm sure you've heard that in a couple of weeks, a whole bunch of our creative types will be launching "No Art Day".

The whole point of it is apparently to make a statement (not protest or demonstrate against, mind you)

And what will happen on No Art Day (NAD, for short)?

Apparently, absolutely nothing. 

'During this 24-hour observance, all participants are requested not to engage in any activity related to art,' says a statement issued by the organisers.

'This would include making art, appreciating art, consuming art, engaging with art, administrating art, or any other activities that might be interpreted as an 'encounter' with art.'

And there'll be no commemorative posters, no souvenir t-shirts, no sound, no rehearsals, zero, zip, nada.

Basically, nobody does any work whatsoever, and just has a day off.

I think it's a brilliant idea and in fact, I've been making statements like that my entire life.

However, judging by how successful my statements were, I think the NADsters should be careful that their message isn't misinterpreted.

It might, for example, simply reinforce the image of artists as complete bums.

(I'm rather afraid that few people, especially my mother, will buy the argument that completely tuang-ing for a day is a profound statement about hegemony.)

I know that the whole point is to make Singaporeans think about what it means to have a society without art.

But hello, duckies! Too late!

We all know that our art is only reaching the already converted and everybody else would rather be singing karaoke.

And your biggest supporters will ironically be the censors, the National Arts Council and the Public Entertainment Licensing Unit, who'd only be too happy to go home early for a change. Or have a slightly longer lunch break.

Still, it's a laudable aim and on the set day of December 29th, I had intended to follow it by sleeping very, very soundly.

Then it hit me: if doing nothing is making a statement about art, then isn't that an activity that might be interpreted as an encounter with art?

Because to deliberately do no art for one day is itself making art!

In other words, NAD is undermined by its own premise!

Horrified by this revelation, I am now petitioning the organisers of NAD to amend the terms of their (in)action.

I am suggesting that instead of just doing nothing and hoping people will bemoan the lack of art, that we actively bemoan the lack of art ourselves!

That on December 29th, we make an effort to get out and say to everyone we meet, "Tsk! Isn't it awful that we have no art? Tchoh! Sad, eh?"

Or something like that.

So NAD should also have its name changed appropriately.

And I suggest "Grumbling Over No Art Day".

Or 'GONAD' for short. (It's not too cock, is it?)

Hello again, duckies! This week, I'm looking for art in everyday life. And I thought, what about the supermarket?

Surely there must be some art involved, since so many people flock there, despite the hideous fluorescent lighting that makes everyone look fat and pallid, the packed aisles, and the announcements that go "Call 5, Call 5.  Supervisor to Cash Counter B. Hurry up, leh." 

Or something.

And the trick with looking for the art in the everyday is to keep confounding your own notions of what is aesthetic or pleasing.  

And what this means is that you must keep asking yourself: is that horrible thing actually art?  

And it might be. And it might not. 

And you must keep questioning yourself. 

(Like what kind of person keeps starting sentences with "and"? Probably someone who heck cares about the rules of grammar. And who is he? Me, that's he!)

Anyway, there is definitely art happening in our  supermarkets.

And for this exercise, I decided to examine the oeuvre of NTUC Fairprice, partly because of its undeniable egalitarian appeal, as well as the fact that there's one at the bottom of my block.

Looking at how some of the shoppers assess the fruit and vegetables at NTUC, it's exactly like being at the Singapore Art Museum. (Except at the Singapore Art Museum, you can't squeeze the exhibits to test freshness.)

And look at how the goods are arranged on the shelves.  It seems to be an homage  to the Classificationist School and their preoccupation with 'grouping' like elements together.

However, there are little nods to the Corporatist Movement, for example, in the way goods are not listed in alphabetical order, but rather according to brand.

In terms of the cereal category, surely the placing of Captain Crunch next to Count Chocula is a political statement in itself.  The juxtaposition of a nautical motif to a vampiric one evokes the image of a veritable sea of blood!

Which brings me to the most compelling exhibit on view in my opinion - the fish counter, where row upon row of blank-eyed aquatic creatures exemplify the transience of life... and ironically, its transcendence after death.  Especially with black beans, some spring onions, and perhaps some shredded ginger.

One might also be given to perceiving the harsh lighting of NTUC as doing a disservice to the exhibits. Yet, does this not represent the eternal struggle between art and commerce?

And this dichotomy undergirds the entire body of NTUC's work.  

The packed shelves and narrow aisles, for example, enable plenty of exhibits to be displayed, yet at the same time, restrain people from running up and down flapping their arms about and making clucking sounds. Like I like to do.  But which annoys most other shoppers.

Plebeians.

So, duckies, I fully encourage you to pop down to your nearest supermarket with an open eye, looking for the art that is often hidden by our conditioning. 

You may find yourself picking up a lot of interesting things. 

And maybe even some bread and milk while you're at it.

Hurray for the Asean Art Awards 2000 judges, who bravely gave the Grand Prize to Nona Garcia's mixed media work, juxtaposing a painting of a wrapped chainsaw and an X-ray image of the same chainsaw under cover!

Our local arts scene has clearly moved beyond those interminable Singapore River paintings, which I've always found to be overly sentimental.  

I mean, they are all nostalgic depictions of old Singapore.  Yet, none of them depict what most of us associate with the old Singapore River - which are floating turds, and dead animal carcasses.

But now, bravo, bravo, bravo!

To commemorate Ms. Garcia's victory, I am now exhibiting my own chest x-rays at my doctor's clinic at Mount Elizabeth.

Clearly, it is a profoundly ironic statement.

For my chest x-rays show that my lungs are charred from smoking too many cigarettes.

Yet, the makers of the cigarettes, the Philip Morris Group of Companies, are the ones who sponsored the Asean Art Awards.

So should  I celebrate the life they are injecting into the Asean art scene? Or should I sue them for the cancer they are injecting into my lungs?

Is it not a statement, much like Ms. Garcia's work, about how we cover up things - in this case, Philip Morris hoping to cover up their tobacco evils by sponsoring local art?

Oh, the humanity of it all!

I shall title my chest x-rays "Salem's Lot".  (Which is a little naughty, since I only smoke unfiltered Gitane cigarettes from France. More stylo-mylo, lah!)

Anyway, I'm all in favour of more 'edgy' art, which reflects our contemporary milieu.

Like the multi-media installation executed by my friend Oh Poh Choe last week when he dropped his roti john at the corner of Taman Serasi and Cluny Road.  

A collage of bread, egg, onions (which he quaintly calls "bawang"), ketchup and asphalt, he declined to allow me to photograph it for posterity, stating that "it will go against its inherent ephemerality."  Oh, bravo, Poh Choe!

I'm so completely inspired by all of this, that I feel compelled to compose my own work of contemporary art right now!

I feel it should not be a static piece, but rather, an instance of performance art.

Something that represents my passion, yet with a hint of public controversy.

Maybe I'll videotape me engaging in waterworks with NSMen at Pee Soon Camp. I'll call it: "Taking the Piss".

Or something.

Whatever it is, gotta go!

I'm incensed this week, duckies.

If some people don't wake up their ideas, our theatre scene is heading into some dark days.

What brought this all to mind was that recent unfortunate incident where a local theatre director was arrested for trying to continue with a play that had its performance permit withdrawn.

The troupe in question was Angry Kutu, and the play they were about to perform was a piece called "Rabaq" by playwright Elongatedwan, about the difficulties faced by two Middle Easterners trying to get hot and heavy, while suffering from headlice.

Angry Kutu has always made it their platform to explore the difficulties faced by those with itchy bug-infested scalps (their motto: "Theatre That Makes You Scratch Your Head"), and this time, they wished to explore how the Arabic world deals with this sensitive issue.

I guess they never foresaw that the material would provoke a firestorm from the local Arabic Turbanite community, who objected to the play on the basis that it would have been impossible for any Arabic Turbanite to contract headlice when their heads were swathed in cloth.

Accordingly, the play was deeply offensive to them, as they felt it misrepresented their culture. So they complained to our National Arts Board (NAB) who ordered the Juicy Entertainment Limiting Office (JELO) to stop the performance. 

However, Angry Kutu decided to continue with their play by proceeding with a rehearsal, at which certain people were invited.  This resulted in the police coming to arrest the director for trying to circumvent the JELO order.

To my mind, this unhappy circumstance could have been completely avoided.

If Angry Kutu had shied away from doing this sort of play in the first place.

Darlings, I know you have a bee in your bonnet (or in your case, a louse in your house), but really, this need to constantly engage in artistic thought-provocation shows a real lack of understanding about Singaporean culture and audiences.

You see, Singaporeans find it deeply offensive to be made to think, as we value the peace and harmony that comes with not thinking.  Thinking is messy, troublesome, and uncomfortable.

And the entire history of the Singapore struggle has been to make life less messy, troublesome and uncomfortable. 

After all, our ancestors came over here precisely to escape headaches.

So get with the programme and stop with all this intellectual stuff.  It's annoying.

If you want to make relevant theatre, give us what we want, what we really, really want.

And that's more TCS bimbos and himbos taking to the stage and engaging in light-hearted, inoffensive comedy!

Hel-lo! Isn't this clear by the fact that more people watch TV than theatre?

Now excuse me, I have better things to do, like felch some NSmen at Shenton Way.

- Artie

Welcome, arts aficionados, to TalkingCock.com's new arts comment page!

My name is Artie Fatt, and I'm a bon viveur and raconteur, which in Singapore means I'm unemployed and spend way too much time in the toilets at Zouk fisting NSmen. (Tee hee!)

This being my inaugural column, I thought I'd engage in a little controversy (have to make you pay a bit of attention, lah, dahlings) and address the single biggest problem facing the dramatic arts in Singapore today.

Yes, that's right.  

It's the 'C' word.

Cosmetics, that is.

How many times have you gone to a local play, only to see actors pretending to be old people by putting talcum powder in their hair?

Or using brown pencil to draw in wrinkles on their foreheads?

And please, lah, sweethearts, don't get me started on the eyeliner.  All of them look like bloody adverts for the World Wildlife Fund. 

I say, ah, you want to propagate the panda, just send our entire theatre community over to China!

I think it's terribly ironic in this day and age, when a good 65% of all our local Singapore theatre productions are about homosexuality, that so few actors know how to put on their makeup properly.  

How convincing are you going to be about the Cause, if all of you look like Desker Road rejects? Hel-looo!

We really should give our stage makeup artists the training they deserve, instead of letting them learn from birthday cake decorators as they must surely be doing now. 

I tell you, ah, duckies, I'm just waitiiiiing for the day when someone puts a biscuit rose or a marzipan ninja turtle on one of the actor's faces.

But is the theatre community worried about this? No, no, no!

Artistic freedom, lah, censorship, lah... excuse me, boyfriends!

Get your priorities straight!

The best scripts in the world won't put bums on seats if your actors all look like the refrigerator display at Lana Cake Shop!

Whoops! Will you look at the time? Have to dash off to Pee Soon Camp to attend a Coming Out Parade...

Till next week: toodle-oo!

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