#8: Presenting Project Mang-Ka-Ka!
This article features a documentation of the public presentation of Project Mang-Ka-Ka at Kallang CC, some thoughts on the evening and its aftermath. Please click the images for a larger view with captions.
The 9th week of the project saw young and old gathered at Kallang CC for its monthly session of ArtsBites, a feature platform for various arts events. Project Mang-Ka-Ka shared the evening with The King and Friends, an interest group comprising enthused seniors, dedicated to celebrating the songs of The King himself, Elvis Presley. The courtyard took on another life with coloured strobes lighting the stage and people's backs. A crew managed the sound system, while volunteers walked around the audience, distributing feedback forms and our project handbook. Next to the stage sat the shell of a whopping 23kg jackfruit which Tom had purchased for this presentation. Taking in the lights, sounds and energies of the night gave me a sense of familial warmth, but also made me ponder how fragile this warmth, or any kind of warmth for that matter, is.
It was a proud moment listening to Xi Jie and the participants explaining the project they spent the past eight weeks working on, but the part of the presentation that jolted my thoughts was when Hui Ying and Zihuan approached members of the audience with questions from The Question Archive. It was great to see the Archive being put into action, and again I am reminded how difficult, awkward or bizarre it may be to ask questions to complete strangers, and also to receive questions from them. What is heartening though, is how people you don't know (and therefore have no reason to be open to you) may surprise you by opening up a part of themselves. If we don't mind that these encounters may be short lived, it's really not that difficult to take a simple step and pave the way for potential relationships.
I grew up in the home I lived in for 27 years not knowing much about the people around me, or the places that have come and gone. Upon realising this, the comfortable position I am in becomes a little strange, one in which I find myself constantly looking out, far and beyond the vicinity of home, so that I seldom register the little occurrences in my neighbourhood until they become obvious enough. With increasingly quick developments and changes to the place and its people, and my life becoming more mobile than before, I find fewer and fewer incentives to stay still and digest the happenings closest to me. Maybe this is just the workings of an introverted mind, but it's become more apparent that I don't ask as many questions, or act on enough of them.
Observing the boy who answered Hui Ying's question in his father's stead (see image 14), I wonder if the solution lies in keeping in touch with our inner children. Our adult selves, having incorporated both bad and good experiences, have created safety mechanisms with which to understand and respond to our environment. Our inner children, in contrast, keep us more inquisitive, trusting and less affronted by "odd" questions and ideas, an enviable naïveté that we think only children can afford. When encountering someone or some place you don't know for the first time, maybe involving your inner child will create a more whimsical and true exchange. For a quasi-bibliophile, books do bring out a squeal-y wide-eyed side of me that few get to see. Stroking the cover and flipping through the pages of the handbook (finally!) was indeed magical and surreal; it wasn't that long ago that we were still huddled in the CC conference room giving each other ideas. I hope this little trove of secrets we've created will plant seeds of curiosity in the minds of readers, spur conversations, and inspire people to rethink the ordinary.
It was a proud moment listening to Xi Jie and the participants explaining the project they spent the past eight weeks working on, but the part of the presentation that jolted my thoughts was when Hui Ying and Zihuan approached members of the audience with questions from The Question Archive. It was great to see the Archive being put into action, and again I am reminded how difficult, awkward or bizarre it may be to ask questions to complete strangers, and also to receive questions from them. What is heartening though, is how people you don't know (and therefore have no reason to be open to you) may surprise you by opening up a part of themselves. If we don't mind that these encounters may be short lived, it's really not that difficult to take a simple step and pave the way for potential relationships.
I grew up in the home I lived in for 27 years not knowing much about the people around me, or the places that have come and gone. Upon realising this, the comfortable position I am in becomes a little strange, one in which I find myself constantly looking out, far and beyond the vicinity of home, so that I seldom register the little occurrences in my neighbourhood until they become obvious enough. With increasingly quick developments and changes to the place and its people, and my life becoming more mobile than before, I find fewer and fewer incentives to stay still and digest the happenings closest to me. Maybe this is just the workings of an introverted mind, but it's become more apparent that I don't ask as many questions, or act on enough of them.
Observing the boy who answered Hui Ying's question in his father's stead (see image 14), I wonder if the solution lies in keeping in touch with our inner children. Our adult selves, having incorporated both bad and good experiences, have created safety mechanisms with which to understand and respond to our environment. Our inner children, in contrast, keep us more inquisitive, trusting and less affronted by "odd" questions and ideas, an enviable naïveté that we think only children can afford. When encountering someone or some place you don't know for the first time, maybe involving your inner child will create a more whimsical and true exchange. For a quasi-bibliophile, books do bring out a squeal-y wide-eyed side of me that few get to see. Stroking the cover and flipping through the pages of the handbook (finally!) was indeed magical and surreal; it wasn't that long ago that we were still huddled in the CC conference room giving each other ideas. I hope this little trove of secrets we've created will plant seeds of curiosity in the minds of readers, spur conversations, and inspire people to rethink the ordinary.
Copyright 2015 Ng Xi Jie, Geraldine Kang