my thoughts tend to meander a lot, it seems...
Finished watching Animal Diaries with pink_madness today. We have already finished Miman City, Kindaichi (murder cases), and Rookie. Will strive to watch Motokare. Have watched a bit of Gakko Sensei, To Heart and Young Times; have yet to touch Summer Snow and stuff like P.S Genki, but I appear to have gone through much of xuannie-chan's stash already. Remarkable. ^^;;
Note: wing_less should watch Kindaichi. Tsuyoshi is very cute (of course!), and I found it interesting enough that I finished watching everything on my own in two sittings. Lalala...
But on a more serious note, that's not the main thing that happened today. Today, I went to watch a Singapore Arts Festival dance at the Victoria Theatre. And I was rather appalled actually. By the audience, not the performance. So much so that I don't even know where to start.
I really like dance and music. I like drama and the written word too, of course, but dance and music hold a very special place in my heart. Perhaps it's the sheer primal feel of it all, the way it seems to demand that the performer lose inhibitions and abandon control to just be.
From the beginnings of civilisation, people were already dancing around campfires to the beat of tribal drums, crying wordless ululations. So, much as I appreciate and delight in understanding the more refined arts of drama and literature, I must admit that dance and music touch something very deep inside of me.
I don't understand modern dance. The deeper meaning of it all escapes me. In fact, I don't even understand the meaning behind most dances, traditional or no. But for me, dance has always been something that I don't need to understand. I watch the frenzied movements of dancers stretching and leaping, smooth/jerky gestures forming poses that look really pretty, despite their unnatural nature. And I feel unaccountably happy.
Allow me to digress for a moment here. There was one dancer in black pants and a beige top. I really like her dancing style, ne! She has this way of using her shoulders when she does large, choppy motions, and when she dances, her shoulder blades move along in this most fascinating manner! I don't think the other dancers managed to achieve this effect to this degree...
Anyway, as per normal, I didn't understand the deeper meaning of the dance at Victoria Theatre today. That was to be expected, and I watched in respectful appreciation, as is my usual wont at such dances.
But the audience around me consisted of students from a certain school (which shall remain unnamed, for various reasons, both personal and not), and truth to be told, they were a terrible audience! Really quite appalling. Oh dear.
Imagine, if you will, people slaving away in the studio every day for months and months on end. They want to put on a good show. They work hard, twisting and stretching their bodies to the limit. All movements must be memorized perfectly. A single misstep will ruin all the carefully planned timing. A house of cards will fall down. And so they sweat and massage aching muscles, in preparation for the day where they can present the finished product for the enjoyment of others.
The magic day arrives. Butterflies in the stomach. They give it their all. It is a serious dance, and they accord it the respect it deserves. But look! The audience is laughing! And talking! A difficult and awkward manoeuvre is successfully performed without a hitch. The audience laughs. They laugh at what they do not understand. (why do humans do that?) And they clap at the end of it all! Loud applause, with cheers that are so patently fake and staged, it is a mockery.
As an unwilling part of the aforementioned audience, I really felt a little terrible. The audience cheered like they were attending a sports meet, and I had this sinking feeling in my heart as I clapped.
Sure enough, the intermission came, and a spectator stood up to lambast us. Sitting amongst the crowd of schoolgirls, I was automatically included in his vitriolic delivery, despite being perfectly innocent of any wrongdoing. (feel a tad victimised here...) He harangued us with liberal applications of the F-word, informed us that we had better steer clear of his school, LaSalle-SIA, especially the dance section, of which he was a part of.
At the end of his long, enraged tirade, he was greeted with a small burst of applause from similarly disgruntled spectators, especially a few people who were likely tourist-y types here for the Arts Fest.
*sigh* What can I say? He was very harsh in his delivery, and came across as a bit obnoxious, but I have to admit that we were a terrible, TERRIBLE audience. Every time the people around me giggled at a highly inappropriate moment (of which the instances were many), I shook my head, groaned mentally, and wished that I wasn't sitting right smack in the middle of the school party.
I've always felt that if performers are serious about their work, then they should be accorded with at least a modicum of respect. Lackadaisical performers who are obviously not earnest about their work should not complain too much if their audience fidgets or loses interest. But the dancers today were dedicated and serious. The dance was pretty, and they gave it their all. Yet, this was the reaction of the audience.
Dear government, I wouldn't suggest yet another national campaign aimed at "cultivating a gracious society" or yet another courtesy campaign. In principle, national campaigns just rub me the wrong way. But I must say, today's experience has led me to realize that we do have quite some way to go...
Note: wing_less should watch Kindaichi. Tsuyoshi is very cute (of course!), and I found it interesting enough that I finished watching everything on my own in two sittings. Lalala...
But on a more serious note, that's not the main thing that happened today. Today, I went to watch a Singapore Arts Festival dance at the Victoria Theatre. And I was rather appalled actually. By the audience, not the performance. So much so that I don't even know where to start.
I really like dance and music. I like drama and the written word too, of course, but dance and music hold a very special place in my heart. Perhaps it's the sheer primal feel of it all, the way it seems to demand that the performer lose inhibitions and abandon control to just be.
From the beginnings of civilisation, people were already dancing around campfires to the beat of tribal drums, crying wordless ululations. So, much as I appreciate and delight in understanding the more refined arts of drama and literature, I must admit that dance and music touch something very deep inside of me.
I don't understand modern dance. The deeper meaning of it all escapes me. In fact, I don't even understand the meaning behind most dances, traditional or no. But for me, dance has always been something that I don't need to understand. I watch the frenzied movements of dancers stretching and leaping, smooth/jerky gestures forming poses that look really pretty, despite their unnatural nature. And I feel unaccountably happy.
Allow me to digress for a moment here. There was one dancer in black pants and a beige top. I really like her dancing style, ne! She has this way of using her shoulders when she does large, choppy motions, and when she dances, her shoulder blades move along in this most fascinating manner! I don't think the other dancers managed to achieve this effect to this degree...
Anyway, as per normal, I didn't understand the deeper meaning of the dance at Victoria Theatre today. That was to be expected, and I watched in respectful appreciation, as is my usual wont at such dances.
But the audience around me consisted of students from a certain school (which shall remain unnamed, for various reasons, both personal and not), and truth to be told, they were a terrible audience! Really quite appalling. Oh dear.
Imagine, if you will, people slaving away in the studio every day for months and months on end. They want to put on a good show. They work hard, twisting and stretching their bodies to the limit. All movements must be memorized perfectly. A single misstep will ruin all the carefully planned timing. A house of cards will fall down. And so they sweat and massage aching muscles, in preparation for the day where they can present the finished product for the enjoyment of others.
The magic day arrives. Butterflies in the stomach. They give it their all. It is a serious dance, and they accord it the respect it deserves. But look! The audience is laughing! And talking! A difficult and awkward manoeuvre is successfully performed without a hitch. The audience laughs. They laugh at what they do not understand. (why do humans do that?) And they clap at the end of it all! Loud applause, with cheers that are so patently fake and staged, it is a mockery.
As an unwilling part of the aforementioned audience, I really felt a little terrible. The audience cheered like they were attending a sports meet, and I had this sinking feeling in my heart as I clapped.
Sure enough, the intermission came, and a spectator stood up to lambast us. Sitting amongst the crowd of schoolgirls, I was automatically included in his vitriolic delivery, despite being perfectly innocent of any wrongdoing. (feel a tad victimised here...) He harangued us with liberal applications of the F-word, informed us that we had better steer clear of his school, LaSalle-SIA, especially the dance section, of which he was a part of.
At the end of his long, enraged tirade, he was greeted with a small burst of applause from similarly disgruntled spectators, especially a few people who were likely tourist-y types here for the Arts Fest.
*sigh* What can I say? He was very harsh in his delivery, and came across as a bit obnoxious, but I have to admit that we were a terrible, TERRIBLE audience. Every time the people around me giggled at a highly inappropriate moment (of which the instances were many), I shook my head, groaned mentally, and wished that I wasn't sitting right smack in the middle of the school party.
I've always felt that if performers are serious about their work, then they should be accorded with at least a modicum of respect. Lackadaisical performers who are obviously not earnest about their work should not complain too much if their audience fidgets or loses interest. But the dancers today were dedicated and serious. The dance was pretty, and they gave it their all. Yet, this was the reaction of the audience.
Dear government, I wouldn't suggest yet another national campaign aimed at "cultivating a gracious society" or yet another courtesy campaign. In principle, national campaigns just rub me the wrong way. But I must say, today's experience has led me to realize that we do have quite some way to go...