Mark Kozelek At The Arts House

Alot of us grew up with haunting vocals of Mark Kozelek in Red House Painters and Sun Kil Moon. Those songs helped me through many dreaded school examinations. I was glad that Mark Kozelek made it to Singapore tonight. It hasn't been the smoothest of trips to the region for him, but he is here in flesh, with a guitar on stage.

Never mind about the terrible sound system and too much reverb going on in that main Chamber of The Arts House. It was a little sobering when I realized that the organizers didn't bother about setting the soundstage because I presume, they figured it was just a guy with an acoustic guitar. SIGH. I don't know anything about lighting, but the lack of lighting control spun the Chamber into darkness with a weird spot on the singer. That certainly induced me to fall into a half-snooze through at least 3 songs.

Mark Kozelek was clearly not in the best of moods tonight. But he played for 2 hours. That was something. He's lost the angst and fire, but he's still got the voice, perhaps better, deeper and richer. When I listen to the old cds and compared it to what I heard, the voice is markedly different. The age has changed something. The gig was, a tad underwhelming. I suppose it's because I was hoping to re-create some of that teenage magic, but it didn't happen.

The fishball kway teow soup and laughs at lunch provided enough horsepower to plough through powerpoint slides and papers till 7.15pm before I had to zoom off for this gig. By the time it ended at 10pm, I was appropriately starving. It's been a while doing the supper circuit. Some friends managed to also have pizza and beer at Timbre before the gig, but we all still went for nasi lemak and teh-o-limau-ais at Spize.

Beer & Mussels

Brussels Sprouts at Robertson Quay must be one of the easiest places for us to hop into any night to chill out. Good location and not-too-bad casual vibes. It's got beer and mussels, what's not to love. We could re-create the same thing at home, especially with the mussels and stock, but I don't want to wash up. The cleaning up for a big group will be horrendously exhausting. So off to a cafe we went.

It was a cool night and all good to sit out in the open. Humans hopped in one by one and made a noisy ruckus of laughter and conversation. These friends are always fun. I was glad that I didn't hide away at home and came out for a breath of fresh air. Strangely, nobody at the table was hungry. We wiped out 5 pots of mussels and clams. There was plenty of fries. Of course everything was washed down with a crateful of beer.

Come midnight, the rest went off to karaoke at some place in Marina Square. KARAOKE. That's a word I run away from nowdays! Eeeeeeps! What kind of mousey Air Supply and Mariah Carey songs were they going to do?! They refused to tell me what went on that night beyond a one-liner of "Embarrassing and really loud." Fine! Hahahaha. Keep your secrets! I've got a wonderful sort of imagination that will conjure up matching images which are fairly close to the events of the night!

Pulling It Off Nicely

I had forgotten about a work event held at the office in the late afternoon. I had promised to go, so I stayed on to say hi to some familiar faces and check out the happenings.

There was alcohol. There was this blue-ish cocktail going around. I eyed it rather suspiciously. There was NO WAY that it could be Blue Lagoon. There would not be vodka in this one. I wasn't quite willing to try it. It could only be Blue Curacao and & 7-Up or Sprite.

There was wine, red and white flitting about. I took one teeeeeeny sip and left it aside. Tart, young and only good as a sangria base, it wouldn't even make it to my kitchen as cooking wine. UGH. Sorry for the bluntness, whoever chose the wine, the S$19.90 per bottle budget isn't going to get an average bottle in the little red dot! All the better. I drank water instead. Since I've been accused of being 'high maintenance', I'd go further to add that this water had no lemon slices in it; pity it wasn't sparkling. :p

I enjoyed the sounds of the harp. Quite melodious and non-grating. It sang fine. The harpist took ALOT of musical liberties with the sentimental ballads though, stopping some of the songs halfway to lead into another totally different. Hehehehe. Whatever. It added a classy touch to the evening.

The team who organized the event worked really hard that day. As far as I knew, they had three major things happening on this same day, starting with a 7 am run-around-the-hawker-centres to buy breakfast for the entire organization and ending only at 7.30 pm after this event. I've no idea how they pulled it off. I wouldn't have cared so much about the organization. It's a thankless job, really. So, nicely done, people, I appreciated it.

Farewell, Boss

We had our 'Moving Out Party' for the boss outside of the office premises. He kinda didn't know it and was properly surprised because we conspired with his wife to organize the details, right down to scheming to occupy his calendar and making sure he turned up right where and when he was supposed to.

The catered food items were all his usual loves of chicken wings, siew mai, har kow, ngoh hiang and the assorted favorites. There was also a chocolate-banana cake from his favorite pastry shop, because it would be the last birthday we would celebrate together as a team. There were presents, hand-written notes and plenty of photos. There was some video thingy- but because it was made by boys, it wasn't that touching. :p It was very meet-KPI-sort-of-factual. Hahah.

A colleague commented that he thought some of us (me included) would cry at this farewell party. EH? Why would we do that? Crazy ah?! The crying's already been done. The shock and dust have settled. Que sera sera. We've all moved on! Duhhh.

For me, it's a farewell to everyone as well. Personally, I don't like this sort of parties and I deathly hope that my team won't do this for me. If they want to buy me something, a card will suffice. I'd rather they donate the budget to a charitable organization or a cause of their choice- that will be my best gift. My leaving isn't a big deal. I just want to quietly slip away into the night.

Like I've been saying, it has been a good run. I'll leave with fond memories, gratitude and happiness. What's not to like about it? I guess this is it. As I move into a very busy October, my countdown has officially begun.

Dave Turncrantz Of Russian Circles, In Singapore

(Awesome composition framed by Aloysius Lim of Photo Pit Access.)

Russian Circles

Like I said earlier, 2010 is a great year for the indie gig scene. So many bands are coming through and I'm thrilled to be able to catch so many bands. Nursing a single malt and bobbing to The Album Leaf at TAB 2 weeks ago brought a really chill note to the weekend.

Last night, after a good lead-up by In Each Hand A Cutlass, Russian Circles blew my ears out with the sheer volume and intensity of their soundscapes. Their soundscapes were grand, earth-shattering and delicate all at the same time. It was awesome to stand and feel the music wash over my whole being like a giant tidal wave. The layers and layers of sounds incited this high that no alcohol could. There was a certain sort of violence in there that made me think of striding through an epic battlefield with a battle-axe and a black war stallion. I felt ALIVE.

What a fabulous gig. We adjourned for a quiet chat and some chow, and somehow, stupidly allowed ourselves to be dragged back to Zouk. That was the downer from the high. Since my Saturday already started on the wrong footing, I should have gone home chirpy, happy and thrilled from the early evening whisky and champagne. Instead the night ended with me chugging bottled water for the next 4 hours, stifling an urge to punch humans in the face, annoyed and sianzzz. Remind me never to go to Zouk again for any sort of outing beyond catching a gig. WTF. I'm 32, not 23. I don't fucking need to prove anything by staying on for after-parties which don't exactly require my presence. Too old for all the drama and shite.

So besides the man, who else is having a hangover? I'm perfectly fine, except for the some parts where I'm still feeling pissed off.

Riding The Wave

The work trip has been filled with an interesting schedule, but not overly intensive. I could have been more on and drafted the notes of meetings in the nights, but I was too lazy to do so. It could wait till I got home. That wouldn't be the difficult part. I dreaded ploughing through the unread emails. I resolutely avoided checking the inbox these couple of days. It would be positively horrifying to comb through the sea of red.

When the big boss arrived safely in Singapore, he sent a texted that ended with "Sure you won't miss this Office? ;-)" The heart twitched a little. Of course I will. This trip has been pivotal in illustrating what exactly I will be missing out, and also, in a strange sort of way, affirmed that my decision is correct, for me.

With the end of this trip, a full cycle with the department has been completed. I must move on. As I bid goodbye to Hanoi, many of the responsibilities in my work scope are also quietly shed.

The Cute Children

We hopped into an elementary school in Hanoi. Lacking in facilities and IT equipment, there was a certain simplicity and about it. In stark contrast, the infrastructure of primary schools in Singapore are so so developed compared to what I saw. The children seemed, earnest, in comparison to ours who could seem a little older and snootier than their years. In many ways, our students are so much luckier and therein, lies a different set of challenges and issues to overcome.

We were clearly a distraction for these children who were in the middle of their classes, even though they had been primed about our visit. The school children attended classes from 8.30am - 10.30am, then 2.30pm - 4.30pm. Quite a long day actually, to have to sit in classes all day. SO CUTE the little children were! They read in a cheerful chorus from their books and the English classes said hello. All of them waved and grinned.

I was really taken by this very pretty little girl of 10 years old. Her eyes were sparkling; she was solving VERY DIFFICULT Math questions which involved fractions. I really hope her education is her passport to a brighter future. No one should tell children that they should grow up to be this or that. Beyond elementary school, the children should be able to be anything they would like and work towards that. I hope these children can rise above their economic situations somehow and triumph.

On The Streets

The city of Hanoi is progressing at a really slow pace, in stark contrast with the seemingly increasing wealth of a percentage of the citizens. I haven't spent enough time here to make a concrete assessment, but I'm not sure I care to. I'm not charmed by the city.

Driving across the cities for our meetings, invariably, we're always tangled up in not just the morning and evening traffic jams, but also the lunchtime jams. ARRRGH. I'm a little boggled at the cars on the roads. I can't wrap my head around what I'm seeing versus the facts on paper. There's the one distinctive red Merc SLK which zips around town quite a bit. There're plenty of Porsche Cayennes, BMW X5s and Lexus-es. They can't all be the same few, and mind you, not driven by expats, but owned by locals.

Still, the number of motorcycles is a menace on the narrow streets and roads which haven't kept up with the rising social developments and consumer demands. I can't even imagine how there is any semblance of urban management in the city centre, which houses the most chaotic roads frequently accessed by travellers and business people.

The city is celebrating its 1000th year on 10 October 2010. It seems content to keep its way of life. Its dated infrastructure seems to be almost bursting at its seams. The clearest indication of urban development is found in its 8 industrial parks and a good 5 more that will complete construction soon, and many more smaller scale versions mushrooming.

It's not all bad. Sometimes, another city of skyscrapers is what we don't need more of. If Hanoi is happy to keep its charms, that perhaps it will be its strong point yet. Then, certain aspects and challenges of urban management must be dealt with rather than have the city dwellers resign to an inconvenient way of life.

Lunch In The Courtyard

I'm a total wimp when it comes to al fresco dining in the region. The humidity makes it unbearable to sit down anywhere in clothes that are not skimpy or made of dri-fit material. Hanoi this month is the same. Even evenings are not conducive for al fresco dining unless one really relishes the heat. At the prettier restaurants, there is no breeze coming through because of the design of the buildings. Sitting outside only invites mozzies to come kiss my flesh. Eeeeps.

At some point, we needed to feed the colleagues. So the group trooped to the super touristy Khai Brother's Cafe for lunch. Needless to say, I melted. Two cold bottles of water couldn't cool the merciless heat from the noon sun that was beating down from overhead. There was a wave of heat from the grill in the corner that layered the entire courtyard. Not a breeze stirred. I didn't notice if there were fans, because obviously, they didn't work very well. I was perspiring like crazy. There was nothing to do but TAHAN because the big boss seemed perfectly fine with his shirt buttoned up and tie still intact.

It was an interesting spread and in the manner of all food, most of it were filled with steamed chicken, fried chicken, minced chicken, sliced chicken, and pork, pork, pork, pork and more pork. Got beef. Some. So I stuck to the raw vegetables, corn and vegetarian Vietnamese fresh spring rolls. The dipping sauces were quite awesome, probably because of the fish sauce and lime juice base in many of them. Khai Brother's Cafe serves very sanitized portions of street food. But I was all hot and bothered and not inclined to take much food or any boiling soupy thingies.

I think the stomach has really learnt to cut down on unnecessary food. My portions were quite tiny, but hey, they were enough to sustain me through the day since there was not going to be much muscle work involved in anything. As I watched a colleague pile her plate high with food, making trip after trip to the buffet spread and ingesting three bowls of pho, the stomach lurched and felt full already.

Green Tangerine Hanoi

The schedule is packed out, but there are pockets of time which I can capitalize on, especially if I choose to sleep less. Heh. I managed to steal some time away to have dinner with the friends. We went out to Green Tangerine.

The restaurant doesn't exactly serve delicate, dainty sort of food. It dishes out hearty fare with its Asian flavors coming through much stronger over its western basics. The menu makes for a very interesting presentation and interpretation of French-Vietnamese cuisine.

There were eight of us and we ordered everything on the menu. The mains didn't blow my mind although this concoction of grapefruit and Cointreau-baked Alaska cake that accompanied a Provencal candied quail was tartly delightful. I didn't bother with the quail, but stole the concoction to try it out with my fish. It was very decent food.

The best food in Hanoi, honestly, is found in the kitchens and homes of the people and expatriates. The food at the restaurants, is always a little lacking in that oomph to make me declare it "wonderful". Often, the street stalls offer tastier food. The dining scene in Ho Chi Minh City is much more exciting. I'm not too hot about Vietnamese food or intrigued enough to squat by the roadside on one of those tiny stools which are smaller than my butt to slurp pho. I like pho, but not that much because the taste of chicken, pork and beef are dominant ingredients. EEEEPS. The seafood pho isn't too bad, but it depends on the mixture of ingredients and of course, the freshness isn't guaranteed.

The friends are whisky lovers too, and brought along a bottle of lovely Laphroaig quarter-cask. It was with much merriment that we sipped from the tiny glasses. We didn't finish it of course! The quarter-cask is meant to be savored just that little bit after a satisfying dinner. Conversation was fabulous. I love these friends and how we've managed to keep in touch all these years. I'm in admiration of how they've left a familiar life dictated by social norms in pursuit of another calling elsewhere.

The Official Dinner

So there was a work dinner to be done at one of the hotels in Hanoi. A full buffet spread a la Singapore style contained a good mix of Vietnamese and Singapore food. Chicken rice, laksa and rojak were on the menu. However, the laksa was watered down to suit the palate of our Vietnamese guests. They usually eat really light dinners and given their rather healthy soupy preferences, the laksa gravy contained very little coconut milk.

Naturally, I didn't bothered about eating. The food didn't interest me at all. It was much better that the other guests were rather taken by the food. This was work and I preferred to keep it that way, to make conversation and lurk around to make sure everything was going on fine- i.e. everyone who wanted a beer, had a beer.

I was very mindful not to bother too much with the networking; but to check out possible contacts and built on the relationships that stemmed from the meetings in the day before passing all the information to the others. This was a job best left to be done by other more appropriate colleagues since I wouldn't be around to continue these vital links.

There was no wild drinking to be done. Only beers were going around. No wine or any sort of hard liquor. Whew. While the colleagues shared a can of between between three glasses, they still left half of that can of beer for me! Tsk. So cannot drink one meh? But all good. Some of the colleagues went out for a massage and the rest simply stayed in, exhausted from the day's activities. Of course, as usual, I snucked off elsewhere with the friends for a good spot of music and single malts at Minh's Jazz Club (moving to a whole new location now!). The night out felt really good, although the tumbling into bed after at 1am wasn't too kind to the 7am roll call.

Playing Tourist

Obviously I schemed to make arrangements to run away to explore the city on my own. The friends sent a car for my use. After I strolled through the nostalgic and almost traditional prints of Nguyen Duc Loi's photographs and lingered at a gallery, I had time for a coffee and a 30-minute spot of shopping. It was very festive in the city, with the upcoming Mid-Autumn Festival and the city's celebration of 1000 years on 10 October 2010. All very auspicious.

The bamboo dragonfly which is perfectly balanced, is the ubiquitous souvenir from Vietnam. My office buys them in the dozens for our guests and clients. It's fun and colorful. There're plenty of those hanging precariously along the ledges of the cubicle walls, but never falling off. We've had enough I think. There's even a stash somewhere in the cabinets.

I've little interest in the lacquerware, ceramic, paintings and sorts. The silk and cotton stuff attract me. But I'm very particular about the shops I buy from. There is a huge difference in the handiwork and how delicate a embroidery pattern is. Not all products are hand-sewn. Strangely, alot of the cheaper ones are machine-made and roughly hewn. I'm not interested in browsing for cheap buys at the markets. There're table-cloths and table-runners, the sorts that I regularly stock up on.

For clothes, design is also imporant. I prefer a mix of traditionalist and modern. That's where the designers come in. I like Tan My and Khai Silk. I had earlier ordered jackets and dresses, so it's a breeze to come in for a final fitting before the shops send the final versions to the hotel. Quite painless.

I've forgotten about the silk sleeping bags that are so popular. I bought a number. I can think of so many friends who generally dislike hotel beds and always bring a sleeping bag wherever they go. This silk version is light and can add a tad of luxury anywhere. :D

Heels In Hanoi

I grinned at this particular headline about drainage on Viet Nam News this morning. It's been alternating between blazing sunshine and dreary heavy rain. Of course the streets puddled up and in many places, flooded ever so gently. :p Not too bad. Top that with the humidity and it feels almost like home.

When the friends in Hanoi heard that I'll be in town this week, and knowing my penchant for flip flops or birkies, they advised me against it because it's been raining every day. They told me to wear covered shoes. "Covered Crocs would be the best." But I don't exactly want to wear open-toe shoes here or in most ASEAN cities for that matter. I'm not keen on getting the feet grimy after a day of trooping around the little streets.

I brought a pair of grungy comfy El Naturalista heels. To my surprise, they haven't killed my feet. The rubber heels and sole absorb alot of ground impact. Considering how uneven the streets are in Hanoi, the shoes have held up really well. I can walk fast in them too. I love travelling with shoes from this label.

On the streets, I was quite horrified when shoe-shiners kept offering to polish my shoes. After being annoyed by the nth offer, I told off this one persistent guy. He trailed me for a good way and kept insisting that my shoes would look good shiny. My leather shoes look best distressed and dirty, and I fully intend to keep it that way. I don't even bat an eyelid if for some reason, I step into an eeky brown puddle. The rubber heels are doing a great job in keeping my feet dry.

Xin Chào, Ha Noi

Internet access via lan cable works quite steadily. I'm pleased. That's all I need. The work schedule is so packed that I doubt I can get much done online beyond checking emails. My energy has to be prioritized to that task, unfortunately. A couple of tweets could be squeezed in quite easily still!

It's quite a nice room with a bathtub and NO SEPARATE SHOWER CUBICLE. I looked at it and sighed. That will add an extra 8 minutes each to my morning and evening routine since I've to now climb in and out of a tub rather slowly, not to mention the potential embarrassment of falling out of the bathtub at some point this week.

I've been out all day without spending much time in the room. Now done with the emails, I'm twiddling thumbs as the 2 worried-looking technicians try to repair my wonky air-conditioning which refuses to go lower than 30°C. YAWN. Faster leh. I really need some sleep in order to be awake at 7am tomorrow. This isn't a work trip where I can just 'wing it'. I will look really really stupid if I even think I can pull that off.

What Next?

Stepping off the plane, I saw the sign that lead to customs and arrival. It read "Loi Ra" (Exit). It was a sad little private smile. This isn't the easiest of work trips. Yes, it requires a little more attention than the usual, but it's somewhat tough for me to rein in my emotions. I didn't think I'd feel emotional, but I do. Not the hysterics, but rather the sort where it tugs heavily at the heartstrings.

This work trip is particularly poignant. My first trip with the department was to Hanoi, and with the then-big boss, and to attend a dinner. It is fitting that one of my last trips with the department also includes the now-big boss, and to a continuation of the theme of this dinner in the city where it all began.

One thing has remained constant- My command of Vietnamese is still crap. I knew five sentences then and about 10 sentences now. Not much of an improvement, one would say. I was so green then, with long flouncy hair that didn't quite fit. A little wiser now and almost ready to take on the world, I sport a short bob which conveys confidence. All that I've experienced through the years have shaped me in so many positive ways and kept me grounded. It has been a really wonderful period on the job.

Shana Tova Umetukah!!

Mooncakes Again

The whole practice of giving away mooncakes is just a tad annoying like the business of angpows. Each year, we still receive a ton of mooncakes which we merrily pass on to people who enjoy it. This year, many boxes arrived in time to be recycled and given away the next day to a Mid-Autumn Festival community dinner as door gifts. The guests definitely appreciated those assorted boxes from the various hotel restaurants.

In the usual fashion, we put in our orders with a hotel to deliver the mooncakes and tins of a decent grade of bi luo chun or oolong to the family and friends. At least they like mooncakes and will actually eat a couple of pieces for the month, or make an effort to mark the festival.

I've decided to stop getting mooncakes in a box of 4 simply because people don't eat copious amounts anymore. Many confess that they buy their own or get plenty of boxes as gifts as well. Nowadays, a box of 2 mooncakes works better in our circle. While the hotel would sort out delivery for most of the addresses, I still lugged home a couple of boxes to pack and give away to others. What I really like, are those rather pretty 'recyclable' bags that accompany the boxes. Some have told me that they like the bags better than the mooncakes. DOH.

Stories On A Sunday

Since I had caught up on all the latest episodes of the favorite tv series, I didn't want to stay at home to watch some more movies on dvds. So I went to watch Poop. It was a fairly heavy play for a light-hearted Sunday. But it was food for thought with strong emotions wrought from the good acting.

A very Singaporean play. Most of the terms used are local slang, but they weren't over-used, so it was quite alright. The play should have brought a tear to my eye, but it didn't. The ideas of religion, death and reincarnation (the humans in the play are supposed to be Buddhists), illness and how a family deals with it, take a backseat for me. One could interpret it different ways, but I thought it celebrated the quiet strength of women and portrayed the extremes of the human mind and spirit, and reminded us how some families suffer because of the unfavorable cards destiny has dealt them with.

Then I went off to Trove to play with little crochet animals that the girls brought in from Hanoi. There were different-colored dinosaurs, octopus, snails, turtles and horses. I put together to tell a corny little story of which my friends rolled eyes at. It was time for light drinks before dinner. So I brought some out for a beer (half pint) downstairs. As always, it was good to share a laugh and conversation with the friends.

Prints

I'm not hot about heading to dinners straight from the office without shedding the rigors of the work day. My brain can't seem to shrug off the work mode and it's annoying not to be able to relax properly. Whenever I can, a hot shower and a fresh change of clothes are very welcome luxuries before an evening social event.

So one evening, I was in the mood for a bit of prints instead of the usual monochrome solid colors. Between running out of the office, stepping into the flat and tottering out to meet the friends, I had exactly one hour for a shower, to dry the hair and slip into a dress that was suitable for dinner.

Late dinners are good, like this one which required a little bit of dressing up. It meant that more of us would take the effort to wear a proper dress and perhaps veer away from conversations relating to work or any sort of stress in that direction. I dug up an almost forgotten dress at the back of the wardrobe and found a matte gold minaudiere to match. The dress wasn't particularly exciting. But it satisfied the girlfriends who were super relieved not to see me in a black work dress or a big tote. I was kinda happy too. I felt a little more alive.

With Each Death, It's Also A New Beginning

I'm not hot about the idea of washing up after a gurgling baby who has poo-ed and pee-ed on the floor. The rather real possibility of raising a child sends shivers down my spine. I clearly don't possess a biological clock where babies are concerned. But switch the human to an older version who is incontinent, wrinkled and sullen, I've no issues dealing with that. I should know. It's been 15 years. I do this every week. The responsibilities I've taken on my roster are for life, till the expiry of each human lifespan.

By now, I'm quite practised in combing through the demands of paperwork and requirements of collecting the dead from hospitals and organising funerals. Different sorts of funerals, depending on the religious beliefs of the deceased. No wakes. I hate wakes. If there has to be a wake, I allow just one day. Any longer, I won't do it. Cremation usually. Once in a while, burial plots have to be blocked off too. Usually I have help to complete these errands in time. At times, I prefer to sort it out on my own, especially when they're on my roster.

So this is the ninth funeral on my roster. I'm not particularly affected by it. Sure, I'm tired from sorting out stuff and itty bits, but I've gotten a hang of the standard procedures so that I can literally do it fast asleep. I take a deep breath and that's that. I've come to grow fond of those who died. But I've also learnt to let go and filter out how far or how deep I should let each death affect my emotions and thoughts.