Architecture In Fremantle

Fremantle was all about sailing and the ships to get out to the ocean. Rushing through the town to get on boats and into the car back to Perth City, we had time to totally appreciate the beer, but as a group, I didn't get a chance to channel that into admiring its architecture.

We weren't too impressed with the Markets. Its produce isn't that diverse or attractively priced. Its main selling point is being housed in style reminiscent of the Victorian markets. We only wandered the front section where the food, drinks and desserts are. We gave the back area a wide berth, not at all bothered to step inside. That's where the souvenirs and whatnots. Black Cherries Espresso, however, does pretty decent coffee.

I'm very taken by quaint little town, and found another slot to stroll around and have a look at the exciting spaces. I love the layout of the Catholic Notre Dame University. It's a beautiful usage of the heritage buildings, with each faculty taking one spread along both sides of Mouat Street. The Fremantle Arts Centre, being a former asylum, is a special place of interest for horror buffs like me. Heh. Its collection of artworks focuses strongly on Fremantle artists.

The town's superbly well-preserved 19th century buildings are worth a long stare. The ummm...convict-built colonial buildings are marked with a distinct Edwardian architectural style, more so than art deco. Most of these buildings are preserved and even though they might be used in different ways for urban living, the pubs and hotels do justice to the facade and interiors. Imagine, death/rock/prog metal band Opeth will be playing at the Metropolis Fremantle in 3 weeks.

Coffee In Perth

It isn't so easy to find good coffee in Perth. Most joints in Melbourne and Sydney do double shots for their coffee. Here, it's just one. Often, asking for a double shot will give you that caffeine boost, but it doesn't have much by way of specialty coffee shops.

When I say coffee, I mean coffee. I don't care about the food. The cafe can serve up shite food and it doesn't matter. I don't go to coffee joints to eat. If I do, it's purely to fill the tummy. Ummm...don't laugh...I dragged everyone out to The Imp in East Victoria Park. Its coffee is okay. The food's much better. Still, I found a favorite in Polly Coffee Bar in Northbridge, right outside at the square between the art galleries.

In Fremantle, I didn't mind Black Cherries Espresso at the Markets, but walk a little further and nearer to the train station, you'll find Hush Espresso. That's my pick. We just stumbled upon it and got a cup of flat white to share like minutes before they cleaned up and closed for the day.

I'm going on to Brisbane, armed with a list of recommendations from the friends who're coffee aficionados and fanatical purists about their beans. I understand there're much better coffee joints there. WOOHOOOOO.

Fish & Chips Galore in Australia

Some lunches were spent out at sea or by the beach. Lots of chances to indulged in fish and chips. Not so much of the chips. But more of the fish. LOVE IT. YAYY! Unlike London, many little shops also offer sweet chilli sauce for purchase. Not as good as Lingham's of course, but better than not having any chilli. I'll take it. Tabasco just doesn't cut it. Salt and vinegar are always welcome.

They always do a good one. It's hard to screw up fish and chips. Oh, and no flake please. So glad there're choices on the blackboard for fish of the day. Just good old red spot emperor or whiting. Perfect. Have it fried or lightly grilled. Mmmmm.

Art Gallery Of Western Australia

Of course there was a compulsory pitstop at the Art Gallery of Western Australia to have a look at its collections and depiction of society through the eyes of the city's artists.

Headlining its permanent exhibitions is "Princely Treasures: European Masterpieces 1600 - 1800 from the Victoria and Albert Museum." The pieces are breathtaking and familiar. Heh. We've seen them in London and decided to skip that. We spent more time on meandering through the other galleries showcasing Australian art from the 1920s till today.

IMHO, there isn't a singular identifying trait of Australian art till we move into the 1960s and 1980s. The pieces from 1920s seek to emulate the landscapes and motifs of Europe. No surprising, I suppose, colonial settlers and all. Only in the 1960s, then we begin to see an emergence of Australian themes, concerns and a blend of indigenous and western art techniques. These are found in the works of Jenny Watson, John Brack, Guy Grey-Smith and the photographs of Axel Poignant.

There are the standard sculptures, porcelain and silverware from the colonial era. Very fine work in the tea sets and porcelain by ceramic factories in England which have closed eons ago. The gallery has a lovely collection of etching, lithographs and silver gelatin print. Michael Cook, winner of the 'Western Australian Indigenous Art Awards' uses the method of inkjet print on Hahnemuhle paper.

Stanley Spencer's series, depicting 'Christ in the Wilderness', 1939 - 1954.

At the gallery of the artworks of the participants of the 'Western Australian Indigenous Art Awards', I was very taken by Danie Mellor's pieces which used pencil, pastel, glitter, Swarovski's crystal and wash on Saunders Waterford paper. The bluish tint reminds me of china and lends a visual stimulant to the modernist themes of death, resurrection, paradise and society. Nyilyari Tjapangati's aboriginal painting "Untitled" 2010 utilized synthetic polymer paint on linen and invites viewers to understand the Tingari Cycle, which makes the artwork a visual labyrinth of meanings within its drawings and symbols.

Always a pleasure to walk through the galleries.

'Suspended Stone Circle', 1978 - 1981. By Ken Unsworth

PICA

Strolled into the small but cosy Perth Institute of Contemporary Arts (PICA). Its current exhibition showcases the works of six contemporary Japanese artists in 'Alternating Currents'. The premise of the installations encourage visitors to interact and be active participants.

The man was distracted by Nadegata Instant Party's 'Yellow Cake Street', which utilizes the cafe and invites audiences to check out what has been interpreted from Perth's supposed non-existent local dessert of 'yellow cake'. Fairly interesting. It tasted kinda lime-y and lemon-y, and sweet.

We watched the video installation of experimental composer, guitarist and artist Otomo Yoshihide conduct a 'Double Orchestra' in Fukushima to highlight the situation in Japan. Japanese musicians, amateurs and professionals alike make music through the use of everyday instruments, in a show of compassion, understanding and unity for the tragic human stories from the nuclear disaster. There would be an outdoor concert in 2 weeks featuring Perth's musicians and conductors. A pity I'd miss that.

Yuko Mohri's 'io/AIO' is an intimate kinetic installation of sound and light operated by electrical sensors is nothing short of the work of an electrical whizz. It's like a successful science experiment gone big. We wandered around a gigantic sugoroku board game created by Taro Izumi. Then we were led into a project by Sakiko Sugawa, Keith Pasco and Sam Fox, titled 'The International Conference on the Reconstruction of Japan (ICRJ)', which references the large scale international conferences held for countries devasted by natural disasters and wars. However, this project seeks to give audiences an alternative to these huge conferences, showing a series of intimate dinners and putting it down on video, showcasing a specific group of 'experts' express their hopes and ideas for rebuilding Japan after the nuclear disaster of March 2011.

Yukio Fujimoto's installation of coal is placed in a huge room. It invites visitors to walk across it and create our own sounds, depending on the steps we choose to take. Of course I hopped across it with much glee.

Foo Fighters in Perth!

All hydrated and geared up after a heavy lunch, accessories were stripped to bare essentials and we strolled into Perth's nib Stadium at 4.30pm. The stadium's situated right smack in a residential area. Depending on how you look at it, residents there are either 'lucky bastards' or 'poor sods'.

What luck we had to grab an area with a good view, but far away enough from the jostling crowds. Plenty of time to use the still reasonably clean portaloos, grab a bite and buy the band's tour tees like the suckers we are.

Standing for 6 hours wasn't an issue. Not being able to pee because I hate them portaloos wasn't too annoying either. What I was a tad wary of were the crowds and the weather.  Everyone told me to stop being a worrywart. Luckily the crowds were so tame till there was no moshing. BUT. The clouds rolled in and drizzled for a 10-minute stretch on the hour, every hour from 4.30pm to 11pm. HA. It had to rain TONIGHT, of all sunny days in the city. I'm SO thankful that the friends bought me a band hoodie to keep my wool sweater from being sodden and getting chilled to the bones in the wind.

'Calling All Cars' at 5pm. Front pitch filling up.

Melbourne band 'Calling All Cars' started the event with their rousing opening set. Appreciative crowd for sure. It was followed by the very entertaining punk and experimental rock group 'F*#ked Up' from Toronto. Halfway through, frontman Damian Abraham whipped off his shirt and ran into the crowds. Bassist Sandy Miranda was in a white top and wearing the wrong bra. Between both sets of their nipples, I was extremely distracted. As the skies continued to let down showers and turn dark, Jack Black and Kyle Gass' 'Tenacious D' came on. They were hilarious in their trademark sexual mock rock way, and keeping very much to the spirit of the event, teased the crowd, worked us and got us grooving.

The programme stated that Foo Fighters would come on at 7.50pm. None of us believed that. But they were on time! The lights dimmed before 8pm and Dave Grohl ran on, opening with 'Bridge Burning', and continuing with 'Rope', 'The Pretender' and 'My Hero'. Taylor Hawkins sang too! He was on lead vocals for 'Cold Day in the Sun'. After that, I got swept up in music and fun that I decided not to keep count of how many songs the band did or remember tonight's setlist. That's what the internet's for.

Mid-way, Dave Grohl got onto an elevated platform, thrilling everyone, including us who had to stare at his ass, or turn around to stare at the screen for his face.

Ever the consummate performer, Dave Grohl 'spoke' to the audience via video while we were yelling out for an encore. We demanded 7 songs. He did them. :) He began the encore with an acoustic version of 'Wheels', singing it and asking everyone to sing it for the "mudderfarkers in the shitty seats" at the end of the stadium. He did one more acoustic with a heartfelt 'Best of You' before the band joined him halfway through 'Times Like These'. Of course it was perfectly apt to end the night with 'Everlong'. 2.5 hours of solid rock and roll!

Tonight in Perth marks Foo Fighters' first stop of their Australian tour 2011.  Epic night. Epic, epic, epic. By 10.45pm, our thighs, ankles and heels felt so sore. All worth it. Even my oddity of being obsessed with the weather and being this close to running off if it stormed. (Hey, I'm not the biggest fan!) It was a fantabulous gig.

Dave Grohl on the huge screens.

At Little Creatures Brewery

A day out at sea left us all hungry and thirsty near sundown. Since our landing point was Fremantle, it was completely not surprising to find us stomping into Little Creatures Brewery to demand to be filled up with calories in the form of both liquids and solids.

Being a weekend, it was ridiculously crowded and chaotic at the joint. Our drinks came fast enough, but trying to order food was like an exercise in patience. So many servers said, "Give us 5 minutes". When one finally appeared, it was more like 15 minutes later. Thankfully, the process between sending in the orders to the kitchen and delivery of food was fast.

Pints of pale ale, bright ale and all others dotted the long table. The menu even had a 375ml of Innocent Bystander's pink moscato. Best. There was a LOT of food. Pizzas all round. Somebody ordered kangaroo meat on skewers. Apparently this version was tasty, tender and lean. Hmmm. There were dozens and dozens of oysters. I stuck to my mussels and devoured all those handcut fries. AWESOME fries that still had skin on them.

Northbridge For The Evening

Clubs and bars in Perth are now so stringent with their checks on underage drinking. The friends told us to bring out our passports as the required form of photo ID for door checks. Our Singapore identity card, driver's licence or whatever else weren't acceptable. Only the passport will do, and not a photocopy at that.

Do you remember Northbridge to be a rough area like...12 years back? It's now rather cleaned up. Lots of police presence and zealous security at the clubs and restaurants. We were surprised to see that it's now so vibrant and walking on the streets feels almost safe as we spent the evening in the area for a decent dinner of Italian and went over to The Ya Ya's where we randomly turned up for 'The Coalminers Sect' single launch. You know how it goes, friends of bands and all, live music, let's go! A$8 gets you in to watch 3 bands, and a cd of the single. Nice. 'The Shakeys' is such a fun garage punk all-girl group! 'Dirty South' hit up such nostalgic rock melodies for old skool rock and roll.

There were ridiculous shots of Bailey's and Amaretto, glasses of Guinness draught, and tons of beer. Too.much.beer. My stomach had no space for anything after those carbs at dinner. ARRRGGGH. After all that drinking, we walked out, wanting to find another drinking hole. I was mildly relieved to find Geisha closed and would only open at 11pm. So we went back to the spacious apartment and rocked it up for a house party! Single malt FTW. More friends came over. The main door and walls were solidly built. No one complained about the noise level. Woot. 

Cottesloe Beach

Beautiful powdery brown sand. Wide expanse of blue. Not a crowded beach at all. Gorgeous day in early summer that was still a tad chilly out here and in the nights. We were almost blown into the water with a merry vengeance by the continuous wind.

Choppers were flying overhead rather regularly. Trying to spot great whites, I imagine, since the city council has given the go-ahead to cull sharks that are coming in too close to surfers and swimmers.

All the girls were in bikinis. Not me. Even with the blazing sun overhead, at 22 degrees celsius and the strong wind, it was too cold for this girl from the tropics! It's gotta be a wetsuit before hitting the water. I took tentative dips before deciding to pass on grabbing a surfboard. I would look too much like a big fat juicy...edible thing to bigger predators out there.

But kite surfing, offers a modicum of protection, psychologically at least. Physically demanding, but not a deterrence to this group of people made up of gym rats, jumpers and runners. As we revved up for kite surfing, there were tons of not-that-funny jokes about a great white leaping out of the waves to catch a human while cresting the churning foam.

Imagine.

Perth - Amplifier

We are here in Perth for the Foo Fighters. But it doesn't mean we just want to catch them only. We want to check out the indie rock scene as much as possible. Randomly surfing onto the events site this weekend, we were stoked to find out that 'Tangled Thoughts of Leaving' would be playing at Amplifier.

We had pints of beer and hung out. It's been a long while since I've taken a hard look at Perth's club scene. Admittedly, I got really drunk on crappy vodka shots and horrible cheap whisky at shitty trance clubs with plenty of drama and trouble back then. So now, it's refreshing to stand around or sit down at a laidback pub with live bands where no one's particularly out looking to be unglamorous.

We've decided not to step into any clubs that required dress shoes. Why bother? There're plenty of clubs around with a sneakers' only rule. Amplifier is cool. At A$12 per cover for the pleasure of 4 bands (also included 'Wizard Sleeve', 'Mezzanine', and 'The Molten') in an evening, we definitely got more than our money's worth. Beer not included though.

'Tangled Thoughts of Leaving' headlined the evening and came on last. The band blew our minds with raw energy and sincerity. Great riffs. Halfway through, one by one, we trotted out to the merchandise booth to grab copies of their cds and tees. Honestly, the band is so much better live than listening to them on the cd over the stereo.

Thanksgiving

In our different traditions of cranberry sauce with goose or sans turkey or tofurkey, we gathered around the laden table to give thanks for the blessings in our lives. On this day especially, we don't just remember the less privileged. We do something about these thoughts and turn it into concrete action so that it sincere charity work becomes part of our lives too.

I closed my eyes and gave thanks to the many good friends I'm so lucky to have, and to hold. The warmth and the generosity I've received are immeasurable. People say family means everything. Not to me. Not all family members are equal, or are placed on the same priority scale. I'm brutally honest in my dealings with them. If I don't like you, I simply won't see you. I might not even acknowledge you. I'm happy for you to do likewise. Certain friends mean more to me, and they stood by me when family didn't, and the years have proved that. So many incidents have shown me the friends who'll stand by me through thick and thin.

We don't need to skip Thanksgiving this year either. As Australian as they are, they still keep to the traditions gleaned from their growing-up years in the States. So a Thanksgiving dinner was arranged. I think there's much to be said about doing away with the turkey, at least for us. In its place, there're interesting items. In this era, the point is not so much of the food. We slept pretty well on the flight, so we were wide awake for dinner. We had two pies for dessert- an apple and a pecan, both of which were richly flavored and low on sugar. :)

You too. Have a beautiful and meaningful Thanksgiving.

"If That's The World's Smartest Man, God Help Us."

I'm not the biggest fan of graphic novels, certainly not Marvel's SpiderMan, Iron Man, X-Men and whatever else Men. I do like Fables, Buffy, The Sandman, Y: The Last Man, The Wild Party, and the sorts.

Writer Jim Ottaviani and artist Leland Myrick have teamed up to capture the intriguing mind of Feynman. Richard P. Feynman is everything! Physicist, safecracker, adventurer, musician and raconteur. (Read reviews from American Scientist, Boing Boing, Washington Post, and Earth Sky.)

Beyond the recorded fame, it's not like I understand much about the work of Richard P. Feynman. I didn't even pass Physics most times in school. It's a weird sort of language that flies right over my head. The brain ain't wired this way. A presentation in graphics about the life of Feynman is much more palatable than a book of plain words. At least I wouldn't fall asleep reading this version. It should be better (relative) than 'The Stuff of Life', especially when there isn't a pressing need to break down complicated information for the purpose of passing examinations.

The first half of the book chronicles his growing up years, his family, and his decency and commitment to his first wife Arline, etc, making it all very palatable. A rather cute few liners about his attempts at being a safecracker noted, "If Mr. Feynman has at any time been in your office or near your office, or walking through your office, please change the combination of your safe." resulting in him deciding, "That was it: I was the danger. It's a pain in the neck. To remember a new combination, so the next time I visited, nobody was happy to see me."

The second half of the book dealt with Feynman's series of lectures around the world on quantum electrodynamics (QED), which he has been hailed as one of the founding fathers of the theory of how light and matter interact agreeably between quantum mechanics and special relativity. For the academic purpose of reading this biography which promises to simplify the explanation, I didn't get up to googling. I burst out laughing at the part that concluded, "If you can't prepare an introductory lecture on something, if you can't reduce it...well, it means you don't really understand it." Which was later followed by, "New Zealand is far enough away from home for me that if my theory was wrong, it would be okay."

Understanding the impact of his theories and contributions isn't an issue. I didn't bother trying to understand those equations. Admittedly, if I do, this would have been an absolute hoot to read, instead of simply finding it enjoyable and being unable to fully comprehend the genius that is Richard P. Feynman.

Lepa(r)k! Tiong Bahru!

Say what you will, but we firmly believe in the local folklore extolling the power of onions and chilli to appease the rain gods. However, none of us knew any magic chants, or anyone to set up the mambo jambo. No matter. DIY! We bought the biggest onions and chilli in the supermarket, never mind red or white or chilli padi or bigger, and planted 5 skewers around the perimeter. We patted the skewers, grinned and told them we had faith in them. (Not very different from talking to a stuffed bear.) Faith is all it takes, man. From the weather reports streaming in real-time from all over the island, I understood that Tiong Bahru Park and the surrounding areas were totally spared from a heavy show of thunder, lightning and rain. Luckily the skies held, even after a smirking Ah Pek stole one skewer before 6.30pm.

Lepa(r)k! moved at an awesome pace. Indie gigs have never been held at a public park. Or rather, the matter of gaining a permit for it is near impossible. Fort Canning Park, as a lucrative venue, isn't counted. Of course being this near residential estates, we could count on the number of complaints shooting through the roof about the noise level. But if the iPhone app to measure noise volume is to be believed, then all the iPhones averaged at 95dB rather consistently through the event. Oh well. It's all relative isn't it, in comparison, say, to the noise of your neighbor's karaoke machine.

It was a pretty good line-up of 6 Singapore bands from 5pm to 10pm, there were 2 which I was eagerly looking forward to hear- Run Neon Tiger and Cheating Sons. Thoroughly enjoyable! Confident and tight, the bands will reawaken your interest in the independent music scene in the city. It's flourishing. Indie local bands don't equate punk rock or noisy rock no more.

People brought ground sheets, chairs, drinks and food. Beer too. Beer went down really well. Especially those cold cold cans of Sapporo. Heh. The tiny stall at the side selling drinks didn't do alcohol! But the food was horrible- run-of-the-mill Taiwan sausages, boiled salted corn kernels, typical oily pasar malam stuff. Although the curry fishballs weren't too bad. Luckily there's a convenience store nearby and also the supermarket at Tiong Bahru Plaza which is just a 10-minute walk from the park.

The friends turned up in droves. New and old acquaintances hopped in too. It was a rockin' party! Of course not everyone stayed all the way through. There's no point in that. They turned up for the bands they liked or for those they were curious about, and also at a time of their convenience! The pets came along. WHY NO ONE BROUGHT CATS? Lots of superbly cute indie kids ran around too. The ones that turn up at gigs most often wore headphones and ear plugs. The parents have trained them well!

How did this all begin? It's not just a random event. If we keep complaining about the lack of government support, then we jolly well get out there to seek some. We do something. We'll be able to find someone who shares the vision. To the delight of all of us, Member of Parliament (MP) Indranee Rajah and the Tanglin-Cairnhill Citizens Consultative Committee (CCC) have taken the awesome step of saying yes to having a gig in a public park. It's not just a politically savvy move to encourage community involvement, but it's also a renewal of hope, especially for many of us living in the Tanjong Pagar GRC who never even had a chance to vote for the political team we want. Once Tanglin-Cairnhill CCC bravely and confidently agreed on the broad directions and handed over the details to the organizers to iron out, it signaled a positive start to the partnership.

Don't keep Lepa(r)k! to Tiong Bahru. Take it to every park in Singapore. I'm pretty sure Bishan Park will be an exciting venue next. If this mode of cooperation is termed successful and viable, then there is a strong reason to continue. L'art pour l'art. I believe the organizers of Lepa(r)k! will keep it indie, keep it real, and keep it clean and cool. Please also sell some decent chow at the next one? :)

The Bridge Project :: Richard III

Debated long and hard whether to catch The Bridge Project's 'Richard III'. It's not a play that I particularly enjoy, not after plowing through 'Henry VI'. I got there with not much objectivity left. At least this play involves rather sinister facets of human behavior which can be fascinating. In the end, I caved. It was a ticket to a good seat! After all, this is the third and final production of The Bridge Project, I shouldn't miss it.

No issues with the modern dress production. Much easier to digest, for a historical play. To that end, it's designed to not only reflect the history of England, but slyly intending to draw links and reminders to modern dictators alive and deceased. I've always been confident of Sam Mendes' stage vision. (Read reviews in The Guardian, BBC Arts and Entertainment, SFist, The Telegraph, The New York Times and L.A.Times.)  I'm rather fond of the abridged film version starring Ian McKellen. I was horrified by Sir Laurence Olivier's definitive 1944 stage edition. However, Richard III is an intense role, and because it's Kevin Spacey, even though he's a down-to-earth actor and has taken on artistic directorship of the temperamental Old Vic since 2003, I was doubtful that he could pull off such a role on stage. (I don't like 'American Beauty'.)

So, after the stylistic excerpt of televsion news that froze the frame on King Edward IV's face, Kevin Spacey, as Duke of Gloucester, began, "Now is the winter of our discontent / Made glorious summer by this sun of York.". We continued on, "I am determined to prove a villain / And hate the idle pleasures of these days," Lots of emotions and energy required to oscillate between the contrasting and exhausting moods and psyche of the villain king. That leg brace is so cool. The production also chose to focus on the dramatic wit and elements of darkness in the play, and the actors' expressions and nuances gave it a contemporary twist. Good call. 

After 3 hours, I left the theatre with a backache and the niggly feeling that while Kevin Spacey is rather compelling, he's not the best Richard III of this decade as what some critics have proclaimed. He's very competent, carries the cape of the king well, and has got great comedic timing. You do get the feeling that there's an actor within the actor, and acting within an act- which is precisely what audiences are supposed to see in 'Richard III'. But I had expected more. I was looking out for that charisma which would cross the line from the expected good (of a play this hyped) to the phenomenal.

Still, I must quantify that I found this production enjoyable, and extremely well interpreted. You don't need to know Shakespeare to be drawn into this version of the play. Many issues could be viewed in today's context. But I didn't find this Richard III to be spectacular. Towards the end of the 3 hours, it felt a tad draggy. I very much prefer the women who're sublime in their roles. Hadyn Gwynne, woah. The production's currently slated to show in Brooklyn, New York in January 2012. Can't wait read those reviews.

See You In A Bit

The girlfriend has been back for a while and is now off again for a couple of months. She's definitely making good use of her year-long sabbatical following her heart, broadening her horizons and shifting her perspectives of the world at large.

I'm going to miss her just that little bit. We always have fun random coffee dates. I'm not done with teasing her about this colorful pair of ballet flats she bought on a whim in Seattle. It does match her usual dark jeans really well. Bye bye girlfriend, see you in April. Maybe earlier, somewhere else, if our travel dates match.

This round, I wish you well, and please please don't dwell in the infinite loop of angst. A verse to bid you a smooth journey- "Open my eyes that I may see wonderful things in your law." Psalm 119:18 (NIV) Keep a calm mind, don't be too nice to weird humans, and have loads of fun in a strangely different cultural environment.

Scones!

There were exactly 2 hours till the end of the dryer run before the fluffy warm towels would be ready to be kept away. There was enough time to pop over to the girlfriend's to pick up a jacket I had left in her car, retrieve more books and borrow a couple of dvds.

When I texted her to check on time, convenience and whatnots, the scones had just gone into the oven. When I got there, the freshly baked brown gems were ready to be eaten piping hot. Smelt beautiful! I love scones because they aren't sweet. The plain ones are the best. I like them much better than the ones available commercially. Slabs of slightly salted butter and dollops of strawberry jam accompanied each bite. Delicious.

Four of us, we sat at the dining table chatting on a rainy afternoon. The rain pelted down, but not coming into the room. The breeze was cool. Mmmmm. Always fun to catch up with them, especially before they go off on a vacation.

Handcrafted Leather

We braved the rain for a most satisfying lunch at Tiong Bahru Estate. It's been a while since I last sat down for a chat with the girlfriend, without her daughter. The daughter is right at the age where she doesn't allow us to talk among ourselves and not pay her any attention, not even for 5 minutes. Heh. As fond as I am of her little girl, I also miss having the girlfriend to myself once in a while.

We had somewhere else to go, but there was a little bit of time to hop over to nana & bird where Jeremiah Ang of J.Myers Company had set up the workbench for the afternoon's showcase. In the recent years, I'm making a concerted move away from big-name designer labels. Perhaps I'll still get those here and there, if I fall in love with something. However, ask me to choose between a Mulberry and an Ananas identically priced, or a Prada or an Ethan K, chances are, I'll pick the latter. Put an Hermès in front of me, and I'll say, no thank you, I'm done.

It's really not difficult to persuade me to open up the wallet when you put the phrases 'handmade' and 'Singapore designer' together. My only criteria- the quality must be present, and the workmanship ought to be dedicated and delicate. If a product from an independent designer/artist possesses quality, then it doesn't matter which country the label is from. And as long as our talented Singapore designers continuing creating beautiful pieces of work, I'll wear made-in-Singapore products from head to toe.

So yes, today I went with an intention to buy, if something caught the eye. There were some stuff on display, and others in-the-making. I like many things, but I won't buy them unless I fall in love. Something did catch my eye. I'll leave you to guess what they are. :)

Ceriph Issue 4

They call Ceriph Issue 4 "the white issue". Split into 5 little volumes of both poetry and prose, it made for easy reading in short spurts. There're some well written poetry and short stories which lean towards science-fiction and observations of human interaction. Some appeal, some don't. That's the beauty of the various volumes. I'm forced to plough through all. Curiosity always wins and I need to read all the stories and poetry before deciding if I like any.

Catherine Rose Torres' "Her Sacred Dust" managed to royally annoy me. It speaks of the brief life of lovers and the subsequent suicide of the woman because she can't conceive and the 'cowardice' of the man to keep his infertility a secret. I confess that this is not something I empathize with or understand.

Mary-Jane Leo's "$trategic KPI + %Synergy% = Love" is a little slow at the start, telling of how a woman sets out to look for love following a checklist and a structure of key performance indicators (KPIs), and finally met someone. I'm tickled by the twist in the ending that is dark and a touch sarcastic.

Joel Tan's "Snow" is hilarious. Hurhurhur. You must read it! It's fairly well written and almost elegantly snarky. "Then one day, it happened, a crack of thunder in the sky, dark like Mordor, and the glass of skyscrapers tinkled. A voice from the heavens, this is my son in whom I am well pleased, a hand from the sky writing on City Hall, 'from my grave shall I return', and then snow: white, soft, anomalous, falling irreverently from the tropical sky, covering the trees in fuzz; and for once in the city, a quiet like the spirit of the world had died."

I've come to eagerly anticipate the publication of each issue of Ceriph. I like to read the assorted thoughts by various writers carefully curated and collated in these tiny volumes that could be finished easily in one sitting. However, I finished them over a couple of days at the hospital because I also had my snazzy brand new version of the Kindle which stores other exciting stuff to pore through. But flipping hardcopy pages seem to calm the mind more effectively than swiping an e-book.

Sun Yat Sen Nanyang Memorial Hall

The poem which greet visitors upon entry is most thought-provoking. I'm surprised that they put it in such a prominent position.

The poem is penned by then Chinese politician Wang Zhaoming (汪兆铭, alias Wang Jingwei) who headed Nanjing during those messy years, and is branded as a traitor in the annals and in the notes on his burial site in Nanjing. In China, his earlier association with Sun Yat Sen is downplayed because of his later-day collaboration with the Japanese and subsequent deeds.

Of course the interpretation of the poem is your own. I take it literally, of the ideals and momentum of revolution that could be ignited and planned from other countries besides your own, and ummm...fight till the end for a cause you believe in.

Never mind that the Sun Yat Sen Nanyang Memorial Hall (晚晴园－孙中山南洋纪念馆) in Singapore used to be the headquarters of the historical figure's revolutionary party Tong Meng Hui. While the great wheels of change moved to conjure and enable plans within the headquarters far away from China, Sun Yat Sen stayed at the villa only thrice between 1900 and 1911. Okay. That's very impressive if you're impressed by the proximity of important figures, and like taking photos with them.

I fail to be adequately convinced by the supposedly important links between Sun Yat Sen and modern-day Singapore. (Don't give me the lecture on British colonialism and Chinese loyalty to China then, or how the 1911 revolution pushed Singapore's desire for independence. We rose as a country built from immigrants and settlers, and we will continue as a country fueled by immigrants.) I'm not particularly certain that his political ideals are kinda our political ideals as a nation......All I'm seeing, is the curators' tremendous efforts in drawing the tenuous links between the leading businessmen then and our political leaders now. I'm not liking the tone very much. It's very clear that Singapore was (maybe...is?) treated as an outpost or a remote province of China. There're many many panels of printed information which read like a historical textbook. In fact, walking through half the museum felt like flipping through a really mundane and badly edited history textbook.

The more interesting sets of information are stored on level 2. But the artefacts (beyond the fact that we stood in a circa 1880 refurbished building) seem skimpy. The furniture hold tags that say "Do not touch", but provide no further explanation as to what they might be used for or how it came to be in the house. It's expected that most visitors would find it familiar or know it instantly simply because they aren't supposed to be antique yet. I didn't understand why President Ong Teng Cheong's secondary school certificates would be on display too, amongst the rapid development of Chinese schools then. Most of the displays rely on old photos, an odd pair of green shoes, and a very random but fascinating "letterpress cylinder printing machine". Quite intrigued by the huge paintings that depicted Sun like a holy man. Interesting techniques used, and very modern. I don't know anything about them, but the artworks don't look like they were done in the 1900s. But I couldn't find more information on them at the musuem. DOHH.

I was a little disturbed by the niggling silence, save for one tiny mention of Sun Yat Sen's wife Soong Ching-ling. She was a remarkable woman and was definitely Sun's able assistant. So what if she didn't stay in this villa? We can't discount her contributions to Sun's passionate campaign and her subsequent commitment and conscientious profile to the cause after his death. I enjoyed the visit to her residence in Shanghai. That jaunt is still fresh in my mind. Her memorial residence oozed history and charm, yielding an intimate understanding of the lady. In contrast, this villa museum we've just visited, feels like an out-of-place cold tribute to a man who played an indistinct and indirect role in the birth of the modern republic of Singapore.

Tried To Make A Star Tunnel Book

Let's be very honest here. Before today, I've never voluntarily signed up for notabilia's bookmaking classes because I can't do those stuff. Give me a screwdriver and a spanner and I know exactly what's to be done. When a class opened up with no stated pre-requisites, Yuling was interested and pulled me along.

I went with no other intention than to learn what bookmaking is about. One could well, flip books, google, and then try it on your own. That could work especially if you lean more towards being a visual learner. But for kinesthetic learners, nothing beats having an instructor around and looking at other people's creations. There's also the social element. I teased notabilia that besides adding more humans to the growing art and craft community in this city, her classes are also the hottest social activities in town that don't revolve around aimless shopping and sitting down to fluffy tea sessions.

I spent ALOT of time befriending beer cans and wine glasses. It was a lovely cool afternoon with the rains pelting down throughout the session. There would be no headaches induced by a mixture of alcohol and heat. If anything, it put me in a mood to attempt to handle paper, scissors and needles without too many mishaps. I knew that the multi-layered accordion fold is meant to present a three-dimensional effect which is a good storytelling tool. But I've no patience to cut that out in one afternoon. Understanding the basics and to be familiar with the know-how sufficed.

I'm not showing you mine. It's stitched up, but it's not cute or presentable. I didn't bother with anything pretty or fancy. I simply cut out circular shapes to fulfill basic requirements so that notabilia wouldn't frown at me. Remember our home economics classes in secondary school? I resented being made to do sewing and cooking and being disallowed to join the boys in the workshop for cutting, welding and hammering. I had to pay classmates to bake my stuff or sew the ugly house dresses assigned. A load of crap. Anyway, what I'm trying to say is, in the same manner, I made Yuling help me sew and all! If there's any reason I need to make a book, I'll buy someone else's handiwork. :D

You've gotta see @cclaudd's cool stripes, @paper_tigress' little house on the prairie and M.'s cute (again) cupcake! Spot 'em in the photo below. These ladies have quite the eye for depth and how they want the final product to look like. They end up with gorgeous creations, and seems like they're almost ready for retail after a few more rounds!

The Man Did It!

So I'm the Fix-It girl around the house. I fix leaky taps, change light bulbs, squeaky door handles, hinges, clear clogged pipes and whatnots. You get the picture. These things are second nature to me.

The man can sort out guitar pedals just fine, but he's never really done anything else remotely resembling anything DIY-ish around the house. He couldn't even fix up Ikea boxes with the allen keys. Those keys are meant to be used on his guitars and related electronic gadgets. Not handyman stuff. I'm even skeptical whether he really knows how to change a car tyre. (I do, by the way.)

The girlfriend had given us a standing lamp for the room a couple of months back. Make that almost a year ago. I've nearly forgotten why she gave it to us. It was probably because I mentioned something about a wonky lamp. Well, I've never gotten around to fixing it, not the old or the new lamp. The gift has been sitting in its pristine Ikea box.

Last night, I came home to a beaming partner who proudly announced that he sorted out the new lamp and had put the old one at the recycling bins. I stared at the now-out-of-the-box gift and gave it a tentative poke. Uhhh....huhhhh. It's actually not wobbly! I'm surprised that the man could decipher the (pictorial) instructions!

I'm duly impressed.

The Colors Of Life

As the city moves towards a full stretch of the rainy season, I've almost forgotten how brilliant the sunshine can be, and how spectacular the short sunsets can be. Too many times, I've neglected to look up and beyond the yonder to seek that breathtaking scene before it slips into twilight.

Today's sunset reminds me of how beautiful and fragile life truly is. I took a few quiet moments to admire the beauty of the colors. It's akin to a stark reminder of how I want to paint the canvas of my life- that is totally within my control. I make choices that answer to no one but my conscience.

How Do You Want To Read This Book?

I suppose writers take a really long time to finish a book because besides an intelligible storyline, they would have to be very clear about what each character does and to what purpose. I don't know how Jennifer Egan keeps track of hers because there're plenty of names in 'A Visit From The Goon Squad'. Already hailed as an 'experimental writer' for her particularly 'innovative' style away from traditional narratives, this has been given a very different treatment from her other books.

I like the pessimism the author foretells for each character, right to the bleakness of their lives. You see patterns in the stories. 13 chapters spanning a time frame of 40 years; these stories, could stand alone instead of being read as one story in its entirety. (The New Yorker had published 3 of these separately.) Or if you want to, read it as a story within a story of stories. (Read reviews here, here and here.)

In all the 13 stories/chapters, the situations are familiar, but the brilliance is in the author's narrative and newfangled style of writing in contemporary times of our generation. NPR calls it the "rock and roll novel" that somehow seems to be able to run like a "playlist based on the themes of time and loss....run on rhythms that shift from the aggro mood of punk to the decentered energy of a rave to the fragmented confessions of indie rock." I heartily agree.

It's a novel of the now, meshing the past and future, melding time to the author's will. The story isn't about one person. Not about Lou, a music producer or Bennie the former punk rocker in a band called 'The Flaming Dildos' (Hahahaha) and record executive or his hireling female kleptomaniac assistant Sasha. It's not about the evolution of the music or digital industry which has permeated many facets of our lives. It's also about how technology has changed the way we utilize language to different ends. Many are very taken by how an entire chapter (Story/Chapter 12 'Great Rock and Roll Pauses by Alison Blake) is made up of a powerpoint of a 12-year old's journal.

From Story/Chapter 13 titled 'Pure Language', the book ends with its final paragraphs,

"Alex closed his eyes and listened: a storefront gate sliding down. A dog barking hoarsely. The lowing of trucks over bridges. The velvety night in his ears. And the hum, always that hum, which maybe wasn't an echo after all, but the sound of time passing. th blu nyt // the stRs u cant c // th hum tht nevr gOs awy// A sound of clicking heels on the pavement punctured the quiet. Alex snapped open his eyes, and he and Bennie both turned - whirled, really peering for Sasha in the ashy dark. But it was another girl, young and new to the city, fiddling with her keys."

The National At The Esplanade

As the sun set, I gave the girlfriend a squeeze and whispered. "I'll see you first thing tomorrow." Still groggy from the meds, she gave me a weak little smile. With a slightly lighter heart today, I strolled out from the hospital and hopped into a cab to catch The National for the second time this year.

We were in Row B at the Theatre. I was plonked in Seat 16- one of my favorite seats for indie gigs. At the stalls, no one would be sitting down. Everyone rushed up front and hugged the stage. It was as civilized as make-shift mosh pits go. Pick Row B, and choose between Seat 12 to Seat 20. This position somewhat protects you from the crush of humans while remaining incredibly near to the stage.

A shiver ran up the spine as The National began with 'Runaway'. They would then proceed to play to the same setlist as what I earlier heard at La Trastienda in Buenos Aires. Tonight, I waited for Matt Berninger to come off the stage at 'Bloodbuzz Ohio'. He didn't. Okaaay. I guess we aren't as fun as the Argentines.

For the final 'Vanderlye Crybaby Geeks', the band abandoned all plug-ins and went full acoustic. Then, Matt Berninger walked off the stage, onto and across the chairs in the stalls, going up close and personal with the audience. Finally! We were right up in front of the stage. The friends were in prime position and got to share wine from his plastic bottle and were absolutely stoked.  I gotta say that I'm not liking this gig-wear-suit look of his very much. It doesn't sit well with me. Both gigs, often, my focus wasn't on him. He has ditched the leather jacket for this rather unflattering image that's really aging.

Aaron Dessner and Bryce Dessner are such a joy to watch. They're totally in sync and creep me out with their almost identical facial features and, that beard. I felt like I didn't actually move my head very much and the guitarists remained one and the same. Heheheh. I can't for the life of me, tell them apart. I recognize them by their respective signature instruments of a 1979 Epiphone Sheraton, and the 1963 Fender Jaguar.

Starting The Day Early

My calendar is so packed that I've to consciously block out 'me-time' at least 2 weeks in advance. If I don't, I'd virtually have no time to surf, blog or read, or generally chill out without doing anything in particular. 

I had squared off half a day, thinking that I could sleep in a little before sauntering out for a coffee. Little did I know that the friends had other plans. Was unceremoniously woken up at 6am for an impromptu sprint and a swim. They barked over the phone, "You don't need to shower. Get up! We're picking you in 30 minutes." GRRRRRR. I was like...I just did a run! Why must I do it again so soon? Luckily I already had 7 hours of sleep. I wasn't too grouchy. Yes, the shower from last night should hold till mid-morning. I was ready within 30 minutes.

For a lark, we skipped Botanic Gardens and went to Punggol Waterway. Muahahahah. The friends wanted to see it. They declared that my rain-drenched photos were lousy, and they wanted to see it on a day when it isn't raining. The drive took quite alot longer than the run! The friends kicked my ass into a 3km sprint (They did 8km!) before heading home to continue at their pool with a couple of laps. Good workout. Easy. After all, these exertions are necessary to maintain the abs. Abs dissolve really fast, like, within 2 weeks if I don't do anything about them. Fight flab. 

By 10am, freshly showered and not so grouchy, our stomachs were awake and growling. Even those who have a habit of munching breakfast decided they needed additional fuel. We trooped out to Tekka Market for a carb-laden meal. It would last us till dinner. 

Blu Kouzina

If we want to satisfy cravings for a good fava, tzatziki, kolokithokeftedes, spanakopita and the sorts, Blu Kouzina is our choice. The warm pita bread made with sea salt and paprika goes brilliantly with them all.

The menu is pretty extensive and there's plenty of choices for all dietary preferences. Greek vegetarian is extremely tasty. We've been popping by for a while now and it's comforting to note the consistency in the quality and taste of its food.

I like how they do the fish and the easy spices sprinkled in their grilled seafood. I can't speak for their meats, but apparently the friends love it. Please note that their moussaka's daily option is filled with mincemeat. On weekends, they might do a vegetarian version, or if you have sufficient numbers on your table, put in a request a day prior to your arrival.

After both the man and I were done with other commitments for the day, we found out neither of us had dinner yet. Since I was in the Bukit Timah area and am the one without a car, the man drove up for an impromptu 9pm dinner at Blu Kouzina. The food definitely hit a sweet sweet spot. I've always liked the blue and white decor of the restaurant. A soothing combination. Add the cool evening rains, it was the perfect weather to sit on the ground floor with just fans, and no air-conditioning.

'Dreams and Reality' :: Round 2

Don't worry, I'm not going to gush for all the 10 times I'll be visiting the National Museum for this exhibition. I'll probably mention a paltry 3 on the blog. Or 4. Kekekekeke. You know my propensity to visit a gallery a hundred times and I'll still find a painting of interest and exclaim in surprise how I've never noticed it!

D and I, we're not fans of Monet's landscapes. We could go into a discussion with the usual comments on his relief effects, or if the state of his cataracts are reflected in his paintings or partly attributed to the infamous London fog seemingly apparent in his paintings of River Thames. But we're very interested in talking about Rousseau's tigers and monkeys, all of which aren't here in this exhibition.

Anyway, this visit, I'm very taken by Édouard Vuillard's 'Profile of a Woman in a Green Hat'. It's not the first time I've seen the painting. But it's the first time I lingered over it. Never mind the Japonisme influence in the painting. I'm more amused by the fact that all of us are staring intently, and perhaps reverently, at the painting and this one shows her butt right back at us! I forgot to take a look at what painting it faces across the room. I must remember to check that out the next round. It'd be very funny if it's something...famous.

There seems to be a large number of green hats depicted in paintings by various artists. I sniggered as I remembered fashion colors of green, blue and purple discussed in the ridiculous Hollywoody but hilarious recent remake of 'The Three Musketeers'. I've always wondered if the woman is cross with the painter (or us?), being furtive or simply being annoyed. Or ummm...flirting? Without the mouth, I can't tell.

The Goat Biryani At Swaadisht

We've been going to Swaadisht alot. Gorgeous authentic Kerala cuisine. It's especially awesome because it closes at 11pm. Matches our schedules perfectly. Late night dining rocks, be it for dinner, supper or simply nibbles.

The man is hopelessly hooked on its goat biryani (pictured above). It's such a beautiful version of biryani. It's mutton really. You could choose to have it with usual basmati or the baby basmati (also known kala jeera. Notabilia has pointed out that it means 'black cumin'. Oh dear. I shall stick to calling it 'baby basmati'.) I like both kinds of grains. There're of course plenty of other options for biryani- fish and vegetables.

We're not too fond of localized version whereby curry is slapped over greasy biryani. It means we're not keen on Alauddin at Tekka Market and its assorted cousins. At Swaadisht, they serve the biryani in the style that we really like. I especially enjoy the biryani with the aloo gobi manchurian. It tickles me very much because it's a dish that no Chinese restaurant can re-create in spite of its name and origins.

Addendum: Finally took a proper look at the menu about the rice. The menu states it as 'jeeraka chamba rice'. Ahhh.