I rarely write reviews of theatre productions I watch, as actors rarely do so as to refrain from publicly critiquing peers. I'm making (sort of) an exception now as I feel compelled to share how what I watched tonight affected me. Sort of, because this isn't a review, really, more of a personal reaction upon watching 11•Kuo Pao Kun Devised, Again by The Theatre Practice.
"今年最近几个月来，是蝴蝶时代" --> "Over the most recent months of this year, it has been the age of butterflies."
These are the words of Kuo Pao Kun I see first upon entering the hall where the performance kicks off. My first thought was, what the heck is an age of butterflies?
As I sit there looking around the large hall, I see more writing on the walls (literally), and more and more writing is inked onto the walls as the evening wears on, and I imagine they are all quotes from KPK's plays and letters. It is with slight shame that none of it is familiar to me as I've read very little of the late KPK's works.
Over the next hour and a half, we are led through the halls, corridors, rooms, roof, courtyard, and foyer of the building as images, sounds, and movement meet us and pull us.
We lean over a man who thinks he is the only one who sees and suffers because he sees. A woman with her everyday burdens around her ankles asks us questions of time. A man-child chained to his baggage, seemingly both weighed down and light at the same time, yells out the time.
A man with his bowl. A man with the doll he cannot possess. A man who is shadow and sound.
A half-butterfly becomes whole in a mirror. A woman fills the courtyard with song and rains down suggestions of butterflies. A woman with a story, who might be a rock, but with moulding, could she be more than a rock?
A woman who is trying to transform through new words. A woman who has transformed.
At least, these are what I see.
This being site-specific work, I know better than to try to figure out a 'story', and I allow myself to just absorb and experience, and allow the sounds and images to wash over me and move me along. It's not about what the players are trying to tell me, it's what I see in what they give me, and they are giving in abundance. Before I know it, I find myself in the midst of magic.
Immediate thoughts are that it's the magic of nostalgia and transformation, and suddenly, the butterfly analogy makes perfect sense to me.
It is perhaps that final scene in the hall that captures my imagination the most. I don't see a struggling woman who's hopeless at English - I see a woman who is reaching to be more than a rock, who is metamorphosing into the butterfly that is slowly unfolding before our eyes.
And that is what I see in that great hall at the end, surrounded by KPK's text, the memories of his presence, the has-been-is-nows, the pictures on the walls, the open windows, the cloths dangling over the expanse of the ceiling that he'd had put in place to improve the acoustics of the hall, more text. And, most of all, the actors, all of whom had been strongly touched by KPK, and are offering us the echoes of that touch.
It is a couple of hours after the show, after I've had a little time to digest it, that I realise what it is that has moved me so much, other than the beauty and immersion of experiencing it.
I had never known about the man and his works in much depth, just a few fundamentals and rough ideas, and watched a few of his works staged. I'd understood and respected his foundational role in Singapore theatre, and all that he went through during the difficult years. That his works are rich and deeply revered, and the love for him as a playwright, teacher, and father, there's been no doubt. But all this had never affected me at a deeper level. Until tonight.
Being immersed in the world of 11•Kuo Pao Kun Devised, Again and Stamford Arts Centre, the long-time home of KPK's practice and ongoing legacy, the spirit of his work and legacy seeped into me and I realise it has given me a real connection to Kuo Pao Kun, whom I'd never met.
Sitting in that hall, submerged in the love and reverence that the company members have for him, being swept up by the resonance of his work, feeling the past and the present converge in that room brimming with memories that are translating to us now, Kuo Pao Kun has finally reached me.
蝴蝶时代 - The age of butterflies: it is now and always.
Thank you, TTP.
(P.S. If I'd known there were 2 routes, I would've made time to come to watch twice.)
