The glowing magenta of the bougainvillea blossoms was what caught my attention first and would later remember, and the grand old trees, their trunks festooned with ferns, lining the neat highway. It was supposed to be so urban, crowded, all steel, concrete and glass, rigid and strict, its character diluted or washed down with a fixation for neatness. All these were hearsay, report Filipino friends who have been to the small, progressive state at the tip of the Malaysian peninsula.
I flew into Singapore in late October, the weather dismal with sporadic rain. We had caught the tail-end of the rainy season in Southeast Asia, I thought. But the weather only highlighted the bougainvillea flourishing in large flower boxes, many of them in a long, long row in the middle of the highway as we sped from the Changi International Airport to Conrad Centennial Hotel. After that, I would be in a swirl of fantastic flavors, soulful sounds, incredible shapes, stimulating excitement. My introduction to Singapore was one of sensory pleasure. It would not be the place that is so sanitized that it lost its character that I heard. Yes, the cleanliness you will notice, but it is very pleasing. After that there were so much more—the shapes of the buildings, the greenery that drapes around the whole island itself, the past in the future-looking, the melding of cultures, the excellent food, the people, the happening.
Singapore is a modern and well-oiled city with skyscrapers, apartments and malls. They are the usual, at least in shape and space. Notice the architecture, my companion advised, and indeed I could not tear myself from the car window. Modernist and post-modernist structures rise at every turn of the street. I noticed the abundance of public art and public space. But not all structures are new. Although there was a dearth of preservation policies in the 1960s to the 1980s, there are still many old and heritage buildings, carefully preserved and creatively updated.
I flew into Singapore in late October, the weather dismal with sporadic rain. We had caught the tail-end of the rainy season in Southeast Asia, I thought. But the weather only highlighted the bougainvillea flourishing in large flower boxes, many of them in a long, long row in the middle of the highway as we sped from the Changi International Airport to Conrad Centennial Hotel. After that, I would be in a swirl of fantastic flavors, soulful sounds, incredible shapes, stimulating excitement. My introduction to Singapore was one of sensory pleasure. It would not be the place that is so sanitized that it lost its character that I heard. Yes, the cleanliness you will notice, but it is very pleasing. After that there were so much more—the shapes of the buildings, the greenery that drapes around the whole island itself, the past in the future-looking, the melding of cultures, the excellent food, the people, the happening.
Singapore is a modern and well-oiled city with skyscrapers, apartments and malls. They are the usual, at least in shape and space. Notice the architecture, my companion advised, and indeed I could not tear myself from the car window. Modernist and post-modernist structures rise at every turn of the street. I noticed the abundance of public art and public space. But not all structures are new. Although there was a dearth of preservation policies in the 1960s to the 1980s, there are still many old and heritage buildings, carefully preserved and creatively updated.
Once in a while an art-deco building pops out. Going to the popular district of Orchard Road one morning, we took refuge in a mall, a strange mix of the old and the new. It turned out to be the Cathay Building, which opened on 1939. Designed by Frank Brewer it houses Singapore’s air-conditioned cinema, luxury apartments and a hotel.
Traditional Singapore can be seen in the rows of shophouses strewn all over the city. These are transformed into boutiques and offices that are colorful and full of character. There are temples, indicating the ethnic makeup of the state. Then there are the colonial civic and commercial buildings, showing the European neo-classical, gothic, Palladian and renaissance styles. These were made into art spaces. Streets, areas and buildings have signs telling its histories. Then there are the iconic landmarks like the Esplanade, showing Singapore’s desire to have a distinctive image as a brand.
And the skyline is changing still. There were many constructions when I went—resorts and hotels like Capella Singapore on Sentosa, the Marina Bay Sands, Resorts World, and Gardens by the Bay, and the National Art Gallery, set to open in 2013.
Singapore is one of the most happening places in Asia with high-profile events, as well as celebrations that attract people from countries in the region and beyond. There are the sports events like the inaugural Formula 1 SingTel Singapore Grand Prix, as well as entertainments and parties. There are numerous cultural and art events, which prove to be extremely appealing, including the large Singapore Biennale that showcases contemporary art from around the world. There are many art spaces, galleries, museums and venues for performances, the most prominent of which is the Esplanade Theaters on the Bay, two twin, spiky domes by the Marina Bay. The country attracted Sarah Chang, the world-renowned violinist who has performed here several times.
Traditional Singapore can be seen in the rows of shophouses strewn all over the city. These are transformed into boutiques and offices that are colorful and full of character. There are temples, indicating the ethnic makeup of the state. Then there are the colonial civic and commercial buildings, showing the European neo-classical, gothic, Palladian and renaissance styles. These were made into art spaces. Streets, areas and buildings have signs telling its histories. Then there are the iconic landmarks like the Esplanade, showing Singapore’s desire to have a distinctive image as a brand.
And the skyline is changing still. There were many constructions when I went—resorts and hotels like Capella Singapore on Sentosa, the Marina Bay Sands, Resorts World, and Gardens by the Bay, and the National Art Gallery, set to open in 2013.
Singapore is one of the most happening places in Asia with high-profile events, as well as celebrations that attract people from countries in the region and beyond. There are the sports events like the inaugural Formula 1 SingTel Singapore Grand Prix, as well as entertainments and parties. There are numerous cultural and art events, which prove to be extremely appealing, including the large Singapore Biennale that showcases contemporary art from around the world. There are many art spaces, galleries, museums and venues for performances, the most prominent of which is the Esplanade Theaters on the Bay, two twin, spiky domes by the Marina Bay. The country attracted Sarah Chang, the world-renowned violinist who has performed here several times.
“I love the city. I love the shopping. I love the food. It’s so multicultural. I think it’s very, very cool,” she enthused. “And I love how many people from different genres [come to this] incredible city that is so diverse and so cosmopolitan. Actually what strikes me more than anything is the incredible interest in the arts here. It’s phenomenal. If you look at like the season brochure and what’s going on in Singapore, and the level of artists and conductors and orchestra and ballet and operas, it is really quite amazing. I think that actually shows a lot about the city and its character when you speak of the culture, the cultural life.”
She was here to perform at the Singapore Sun Festival. I was catching the last few days. The festival is one of the interesting events in the lively calendar of Singapore. Events being one of its tourist attractions, the country was promoting it.
“The festival undoubtedly boosts Singapore’s position as a global city for the arts and one of Asia’s leading premium entertainment lifestyle destinations,” commented Lim Neo Chian, deputy chairman and chief executive of the Singapore Tourism Board.
The prominence of the Sun Festival owes in large part to the high profile of its featured artists and celebrities. This year, it had actor Geoffrey Rush, opera singer Kiri Te Kanawa, singer-songwriters Peter Cincotti and Sergio Mendez, violinist Sarah Chang, author Cameron Forbes, pianist Yefim Bronfman, chefs Charlie Trotter and Luke Mangan, the Vienna Boys Choir and the Los Angeles Philharmonic Orchestra.
The inaugural last year was attended by about 3,000 people. This year, attendance increased to about 35,000, 10 percent of which is said to be foreign tourists.
But more than its tourism and publicity potential, the Singapore Sun Festival, which is the Asian version of the festival that started in Tuscany in Italy in 2003 and then in Napa Valley in 2006, celebrates the “art of living well,” and involves a diverse repertoire that encompasses music, literature, film, wine and cuisine, the visual arts and wellness. Because of this thrust, the festival is deemed a premium one, which means it is more expensive than usual and caters to the discerning audience. Going through some of the events, I found myself indulging in truffles and dishes prepared by star chefs, savoring wines and listening to a world-class orchestra, commonly perceived features of a luxurious life. For a few days, I was living it, and it happened at a time of an impending global financial crisis.
Just before coming to Singapore, I chanced upon an acquaintance at the Manila airport. Both of us were waiting to board for Singapore. He just planed in from New York and told me how the Americans were over-reacting to the crisis unlike us, Filipinos, who just go on as if there is nothing happening. I shrugged. It has not reached us yet, and Filipinos are wont to think that the crisis is too distant to reach them.
The news of the crisis seemed to underline the luxury aspect of the Sun Festival. Why hold it at such a time? I remembered the eternal debate about making and upholding art in a hunger- and poverty-stricken land, the answer of which I forgot because I seldom bother with the question. In the end, there is so much more than the crisis like life itself. And Sun Festival celebrates living it well, savoring it. Maybe the Filipinos’ indifference to the crisis has something to do with that reason.
While there is the perception that the Sun Festival attracts the moneyed set, it aims to welcome everybody.
“I don’t think there was an intent to do that. The notion of living well implies [being] well-off, but actually to have good style in life or to enjoy yourself or to eat well whenever… I think some of the events are expensive, but there are a lot that aren’t expensive,” said Barrett Wissman, chairman of the global talent management agency IMG Artists and founder of the festival. “From my perspective, there is no intent on making it an exclusive event. People may be intimidated when you think at that part, but that’s not the intent. I think by diversifying the programming more and more and having all the different kind of stuff we intend to make it fun for people to support.”
The 2008 Singapore Sun Festival was set for 10 days, from October 17 to 26, involving about 250 artists, musicians, chefs, writers and celebrities. Most events were held in the Marina Bay area and along the Singapore River. It opened with opera star Kiri Te Kanawa and the Vienna Boys Choir singing opera classics, and actor Geoffrey Rush, who replaced Robert Redford, narrating “Peter and the Wolf.” Sergio Mendez and Peter Cincotti had concerts. Chicago chef Charlie Trotter whipped up his signature dishes. There were tai chi lessons and yoga sessions at the Esplanade Park. Australian-Filipino writer Merlinda Bobis talked about food and writing, while the films shown in The Screening Room had food as theme. The prestigious Singapore Wine Auction and Gala Dinner raised funds for the Viva Foundation for Children with Cancer. This event was the “jewel of the festival’s crown,” having Trotter preparing the food and Kiri Te Kanawa performing.
The events were refined and diverse. It was when Wissman mentioned the book Under the Tuscan Sun that I understood. The book talks about the author’s experience in renovating an old house in Cortona, Italy, and living in Tuscany in general. It was a sensual and profound read that it became my bible for several weeks. The festival was named after the book, and the author Frances Mayes, Wissman’s neighbor in Cortona, is one of the founders of the festival together with Wissman’s wife, cellist Nina Kotova.
She was here to perform at the Singapore Sun Festival. I was catching the last few days. The festival is one of the interesting events in the lively calendar of Singapore. Events being one of its tourist attractions, the country was promoting it.
“The festival undoubtedly boosts Singapore’s position as a global city for the arts and one of Asia’s leading premium entertainment lifestyle destinations,” commented Lim Neo Chian, deputy chairman and chief executive of the Singapore Tourism Board.
The prominence of the Sun Festival owes in large part to the high profile of its featured artists and celebrities. This year, it had actor Geoffrey Rush, opera singer Kiri Te Kanawa, singer-songwriters Peter Cincotti and Sergio Mendez, violinist Sarah Chang, author Cameron Forbes, pianist Yefim Bronfman, chefs Charlie Trotter and Luke Mangan, the Vienna Boys Choir and the Los Angeles Philharmonic Orchestra.
The inaugural last year was attended by about 3,000 people. This year, attendance increased to about 35,000, 10 percent of which is said to be foreign tourists.
But more than its tourism and publicity potential, the Singapore Sun Festival, which is the Asian version of the festival that started in Tuscany in Italy in 2003 and then in Napa Valley in 2006, celebrates the “art of living well,” and involves a diverse repertoire that encompasses music, literature, film, wine and cuisine, the visual arts and wellness. Because of this thrust, the festival is deemed a premium one, which means it is more expensive than usual and caters to the discerning audience. Going through some of the events, I found myself indulging in truffles and dishes prepared by star chefs, savoring wines and listening to a world-class orchestra, commonly perceived features of a luxurious life. For a few days, I was living it, and it happened at a time of an impending global financial crisis.
Just before coming to Singapore, I chanced upon an acquaintance at the Manila airport. Both of us were waiting to board for Singapore. He just planed in from New York and told me how the Americans were over-reacting to the crisis unlike us, Filipinos, who just go on as if there is nothing happening. I shrugged. It has not reached us yet, and Filipinos are wont to think that the crisis is too distant to reach them.
The news of the crisis seemed to underline the luxury aspect of the Sun Festival. Why hold it at such a time? I remembered the eternal debate about making and upholding art in a hunger- and poverty-stricken land, the answer of which I forgot because I seldom bother with the question. In the end, there is so much more than the crisis like life itself. And Sun Festival celebrates living it well, savoring it. Maybe the Filipinos’ indifference to the crisis has something to do with that reason.
While there is the perception that the Sun Festival attracts the moneyed set, it aims to welcome everybody.
“I don’t think there was an intent to do that. The notion of living well implies [being] well-off, but actually to have good style in life or to enjoy yourself or to eat well whenever… I think some of the events are expensive, but there are a lot that aren’t expensive,” said Barrett Wissman, chairman of the global talent management agency IMG Artists and founder of the festival. “From my perspective, there is no intent on making it an exclusive event. People may be intimidated when you think at that part, but that’s not the intent. I think by diversifying the programming more and more and having all the different kind of stuff we intend to make it fun for people to support.”
The 2008 Singapore Sun Festival was set for 10 days, from October 17 to 26, involving about 250 artists, musicians, chefs, writers and celebrities. Most events were held in the Marina Bay area and along the Singapore River. It opened with opera star Kiri Te Kanawa and the Vienna Boys Choir singing opera classics, and actor Geoffrey Rush, who replaced Robert Redford, narrating “Peter and the Wolf.” Sergio Mendez and Peter Cincotti had concerts. Chicago chef Charlie Trotter whipped up his signature dishes. There were tai chi lessons and yoga sessions at the Esplanade Park. Australian-Filipino writer Merlinda Bobis talked about food and writing, while the films shown in The Screening Room had food as theme. The prestigious Singapore Wine Auction and Gala Dinner raised funds for the Viva Foundation for Children with Cancer. This event was the “jewel of the festival’s crown,” having Trotter preparing the food and Kiri Te Kanawa performing.
The events were refined and diverse. It was when Wissman mentioned the book Under the Tuscan Sun that I understood. The book talks about the author’s experience in renovating an old house in Cortona, Italy, and living in Tuscany in general. It was a sensual and profound read that it became my bible for several weeks. The festival was named after the book, and the author Frances Mayes, Wissman’s neighbor in Cortona, is one of the founders of the festival together with Wissman’s wife, cellist Nina Kotova.
With Barrett Wissman
At the Fullerton Hotel one morning, Barrett Wissman appeared imposing, befitting a cultural impresario at the helm of a large global performing arts management agency, IMG Artists, with a stable of topnotch artists. He talked about the festival, touching on Singapore.
RHM: What inspired you to create the Sun Festival?
BW: I think several different things. Initially, my goal in life is—especially today when the world is moving so fast and we have all those electronic media hitting us all the time, three hundred channels to watch on television—I think people need to spend more time enjoying themselves, enjoying themselves with other people, talking to people, learning about things, experiencing things. Because we’re moving away from that. Because everybody can get everything they want on their computers, and they’re used to no interactions. So I also want to bring more listeners and more people back into music and events like these and experiencing things. So, those are two things that really made me want to create it…I find that artists of all kinds, whether musicians or painters or whatever, there’s always been a tie between the arts, whether it’s being a writer, a painter and things like that. But in the last hundred years, we’ve forgotten about that. And people being well-educated they do whatever they do; they don’t have time. So I like tying all these things together, and actually you find a lot of commonality. People who love going to dinners, to something special, go to see a writer then they’d become interested in music. We also try to get the musicians involved in the other activities. So, there’s a commonality among everything that we’re doing. So for me that’s really important and that’s why I do it. When we had the initial press conference in the beginning somebody asked why there’s a lack of focus. Well, I don’t see it as a lack of focus. I’m seeing it being a positive thing, a lot of diversity. So I think today that’s really important—to try to get people interested to what people are doing.
RHM: Did you intend for the festival to have no theme?
BW: You see the trouble is that the theme of what we do is to let the artists do what they want to do. Because then they do their best job. In theory, if you let artists do what they wanna do that’s when they’re gonna do best, and you go to them with ideas on how to do all these interesting ideas and tie things together. There can’t be a theme because I’m not telling them what to do. You have to choose one way or another. Theme is okay, but I find the choice of a theme to be by nature manufactured. So let’s say creative theme [like] passion, love, history, whatever that is, I often find it doesn’t really mean anything. And then you force that on people. So, you’re forcing something that doesn’t mean anything on people, and you end up with a thing that’s paying lip service to an idea. So I generally don’t like that anyway. Sometimes, it can work. But it doesn’t work with something like this where we let the people do what they want to do.
RHM: Did you have any inspiration for the festival like other festivals?
BW: Actually, no. I don’t think there is anything like it. It is more of the idea of trying to bring people together, trying to find a commonality. You know, it takes years to do this, to create something out of nothing. It is not easy. You don’t see people doing this today. I think we’ve already seen that. We were seeing people that came from the festival in New York enjoying Napa and going back and forth. The supporters of the festival, the people who are friends of the festival, they begin to know the artist and the artist know them. We see ties coming together, and now we’re in Singapore and we start seeing interesting ideas come out of that so it’s very interesting. In a way it’s stimulating the mind like for instance having the conservatory orchestra here come to one of the other events that brings an Asian orchestra. It’s very interesting to see how the story evolves, creating history.
RHM: How was the first festival in Tuscany? How does it compare to the festival in Singapore?
BW: It’s different because Singapore is a city, and it’s (Cortona in Tuscany) a little town. It was more intimate because everybody was there. It was a very organic feeling. It was a little theater, a rundown theater from the early nineteenth century. But we try to build the same kind of feeling of friendship among the artists and the listeners and everybody. I think we’ve achieved that here. Because people get to know each other, and you know you can either just go to a performance and then not come back or not do anything else. The food is just fine. Or people get more involved. I think we’ve achieved that even in a city like Singapore. That’s one of the reasons I created the tent. We created that tent so that people would have something to do after the concerts, after the activities. Singapore is a city which has restaurants, bars and places like that in very official-type locations, but nothing relaxed like that. That’s why I wanted to create that—to make it more intimate, to create a central place. So it is very different. Napa is more like Tuscany. But we try to keep the same values.
RHM: Why did you choose Singapore and these places like Tuscany and Napa Valley for the festival?
BW: Tuscany I chose because I live there. Napa…I wanted to choose a place in America. If I look at the entire country, I wanted it to be some place that’s a pleasant place to go to. The big cities in America already have a lot going on. So, I wanted to choose something where people can go away and be separate. It’s a wine region. It’s like Tuscany, and there was nothing there. And it’s a big tourist destination. So all those factors, and we had a lot of local people who wanted to help, which was really important because involving the community is extremely important. Singapore is different. There are a lot of different places in Asia where you can do this, but you know, Indonesia is Indonesia. China is China. Philippines is the Philippines. And Tokyo is Tokyo. In Tokyo, you find Japanese people, and in China there are Chinese people, and they speak one language. Singapore is really a melting pot. You have everything here. There are Indians. There are Chinese. You have Malays. You have Westerners. You have Americans. You have everything here. And everybody speaks their own language but at the same time choose to speak English too, which provides a commonality. That mixture allows you to explore Chinese subject or to explore Japanese subject or to explore French music or whatever it is, and feel very natural about doing it because it doesn’t need a built-in population that enjoys that that’s indigenous. That fact plus that there was nothing really like this here and also that it is a place that works very well for an operational standpoint, you know, made me attracted to it. Look, people are very nationalistic, all over the world but particularly in Asia. If you went to China and did this in China, it wouldn’t be so easy to do Indian music, for example, and to just explore bunch of concerts with Indian [theme]. To not feel like you were not tied down to anyone, and I like that diversity.
RHM: How do you choose what to put in and what not to put in in the festival?
BW: It’s a very difficult question to answer because it’s a process like making soup when you do not really know the recipe, and you start with few pieces and then with those pieces of the old menu, add on to them. Certain things don’t work together and certain things do. It’s a building process each year. It’s not as if we sit down day one and we say, okay, we’re going to have, you know, New Zealand mussels, we’re gonna explore New Zealand seafood for this period. We’re gonna do this; we’re gonna do that. And then we’re gonna have this orchestra. We don’t have everything planned at the beginning. It’s a process. So, it’s a difficult question to answer. It’s like a crazy cook who’s throwing things in and you taste it. You need a little bit more of something else. That’s more what it is like.
RHM: What is your vision for the festival?
BW: I think we had a good first two years here. I think we’ve learned a lot. We’ve had a lot more diversity in the concerts this year. I like that. I want to continue along that path. I think that we need to have more tying things together. We need to explore more creative programs, even though we had some but I’d like to do more, I think, along the same path but to always raise the bar like to expand the film section because the film section is quite simple now. We tried the food and everything, which is very nice but I’d like to build on that. So constantly we’ll build more, and more ideas, keeping the base of what we have and always trying to bring it to a higher level.
RHM: What is your favorite part of the festival?
BW: I don’t have any favorite one part. My favorite part is how all the different pieces come together. That’s my favorite part. Seeing that and seeing how we create an atmosphere where people are communicating. The word festival doesn’t mean anything anymore. What is a festival? People put the word festival like dance festival, and they put together six performances. One has nothing to do with the other, and people go have a good time and they leave. That’s not a festival. Festival is about celebrating. That’s what the word means, festive. My favorite part about it is seeing people come in and out of the activities, weaving in and out. That’s my favorite part. And seeing people enjoy and seeing people [being] accessible. Where else do you see something like this, where you can talk to the artists and this and that, and get involved? That’s my favorite part.
BW: It’s different because Singapore is a city, and it’s (Cortona in Tuscany) a little town. It was more intimate because everybody was there. It was a very organic feeling. It was a little theater, a rundown theater from the early nineteenth century. But we try to build the same kind of feeling of friendship among the artists and the listeners and everybody. I think we’ve achieved that here. Because people get to know each other, and you know you can either just go to a performance and then not come back or not do anything else. The food is just fine. Or people get more involved. I think we’ve achieved that even in a city like Singapore. That’s one of the reasons I created the tent. We created that tent so that people would have something to do after the concerts, after the activities. Singapore is a city which has restaurants, bars and places like that in very official-type locations, but nothing relaxed like that. That’s why I wanted to create that—to make it more intimate, to create a central place. So it is very different. Napa is more like Tuscany. But we try to keep the same values.
RHM: Why did you choose Singapore and these places like Tuscany and Napa Valley for the festival?
BW: Tuscany I chose because I live there. Napa…I wanted to choose a place in America. If I look at the entire country, I wanted it to be some place that’s a pleasant place to go to. The big cities in America already have a lot going on. So, I wanted to choose something where people can go away and be separate. It’s a wine region. It’s like Tuscany, and there was nothing there. And it’s a big tourist destination. So all those factors, and we had a lot of local people who wanted to help, which was really important because involving the community is extremely important. Singapore is different. There are a lot of different places in Asia where you can do this, but you know, Indonesia is Indonesia. China is China. Philippines is the Philippines. And Tokyo is Tokyo. In Tokyo, you find Japanese people, and in China there are Chinese people, and they speak one language. Singapore is really a melting pot. You have everything here. There are Indians. There are Chinese. You have Malays. You have Westerners. You have Americans. You have everything here. And everybody speaks their own language but at the same time choose to speak English too, which provides a commonality. That mixture allows you to explore Chinese subject or to explore Japanese subject or to explore French music or whatever it is, and feel very natural about doing it because it doesn’t need a built-in population that enjoys that that’s indigenous. That fact plus that there was nothing really like this here and also that it is a place that works very well for an operational standpoint, you know, made me attracted to it. Look, people are very nationalistic, all over the world but particularly in Asia. If you went to China and did this in China, it wouldn’t be so easy to do Indian music, for example, and to just explore bunch of concerts with Indian [theme]. To not feel like you were not tied down to anyone, and I like that diversity.
RHM: How do you choose what to put in and what not to put in in the festival?
BW: It’s a very difficult question to answer because it’s a process like making soup when you do not really know the recipe, and you start with few pieces and then with those pieces of the old menu, add on to them. Certain things don’t work together and certain things do. It’s a building process each year. It’s not as if we sit down day one and we say, okay, we’re going to have, you know, New Zealand mussels, we’re gonna explore New Zealand seafood for this period. We’re gonna do this; we’re gonna do that. And then we’re gonna have this orchestra. We don’t have everything planned at the beginning. It’s a process. So, it’s a difficult question to answer. It’s like a crazy cook who’s throwing things in and you taste it. You need a little bit more of something else. That’s more what it is like.
RHM: What is your vision for the festival?
BW: I think we had a good first two years here. I think we’ve learned a lot. We’ve had a lot more diversity in the concerts this year. I like that. I want to continue along that path. I think that we need to have more tying things together. We need to explore more creative programs, even though we had some but I’d like to do more, I think, along the same path but to always raise the bar like to expand the film section because the film section is quite simple now. We tried the food and everything, which is very nice but I’d like to build on that. So constantly we’ll build more, and more ideas, keeping the base of what we have and always trying to bring it to a higher level.
RHM: What is your favorite part of the festival?
BW: I don’t have any favorite one part. My favorite part is how all the different pieces come together. That’s my favorite part. Seeing that and seeing how we create an atmosphere where people are communicating. The word festival doesn’t mean anything anymore. What is a festival? People put the word festival like dance festival, and they put together six performances. One has nothing to do with the other, and people go have a good time and they leave. That’s not a festival. Festival is about celebrating. That’s what the word means, festive. My favorite part about it is seeing people come in and out of the activities, weaving in and out. That’s my favorite part. And seeing people enjoy and seeing people [being] accessible. Where else do you see something like this, where you can talk to the artists and this and that, and get involved? That’s my favorite part.
Coming into Colors
The magenta of the bougainvillea I saw along the highway blossomed into a visual experience at the Art House at The Parliament House. The Sun Festival brought in 16 pieces of German-American abstract artist Sibylle Szaggars’s large-scale paintings in an exhibit called “The Shape of Color.” The paintings depicted what looked like amoebas of different colors swimming in paint. I tried to figure out what they are.
Szaggars had an explanation: “These paintings are non-figurative inventions and they don’t carry a symbolic burden. My desire is create an intense optical sensation and to celebrate the exciting facts of the world of color.”
Relieved of the duty to find meaning, I let myself be engulfed the large paintings and float in a sea of bold colors, accompanied by music of Nina Kotova, composed especially for the exhibit. Housed in a small room, the exhibit was an intimate affair.
I was interested in the building itself: The Parliament House. I learned that it was constructed from 1826 to 1827, and was used as a public offices and court house. Then it was used by the general assembly. Now the numerous rooms are used for different exhibits and performances.
The Parliament House is among a cluster of colonial buildings by the Singapore River. The others house a theater, galleries, museums and cafes.
The magenta of the bougainvillea I saw along the highway blossomed into a visual experience at the Art House at The Parliament House. The Sun Festival brought in 16 pieces of German-American abstract artist Sibylle Szaggars’s large-scale paintings in an exhibit called “The Shape of Color.” The paintings depicted what looked like amoebas of different colors swimming in paint. I tried to figure out what they are.
Szaggars had an explanation: “These paintings are non-figurative inventions and they don’t carry a symbolic burden. My desire is create an intense optical sensation and to celebrate the exciting facts of the world of color.”
Relieved of the duty to find meaning, I let myself be engulfed the large paintings and float in a sea of bold colors, accompanied by music of Nina Kotova, composed especially for the exhibit. Housed in a small room, the exhibit was an intimate affair.
I was interested in the building itself: The Parliament House. I learned that it was constructed from 1826 to 1827, and was used as a public offices and court house. Then it was used by the general assembly. Now the numerous rooms are used for different exhibits and performances.
The Parliament House is among a cluster of colonial buildings by the Singapore River. The others house a theater, galleries, museums and cafes.
A Festival of Flavors
A big and important part of the Singapore Sun Festival is the food. The experience of food and cooking also dominates the book Under the Tuscan Sun. Singapore itself is famous for its food. From the hawker stalls to the fine-dining restaurant, the place offers exciting gustatory adventure. My Singapore sojourn was made memorable by different flavors from the festival’s three food events and occasional forays to some restaurants.
At the night of my arrival on October 24, Luke Mangan held a signature dinner at a function room by the rooftop pool of the Hilton Singapore along Orchard Road, with different wines to accompany each dish. Also, each dish was joyfully annotated by the Australian celebrity chef and restaurateur with the help of wine writer Curtis Marsh.
The dinner started interestingly with quail egg rolled in herbs. It burst with a refreshing broth when bit, a pleasant surprise. The tanginess was well counterbalanced by the chilled beetroot soup. Then the dinner proceeded: confit of Tasmanian ocean trout, pickled cucumber, ginger, soy and lemongrass dress, with 2006 Tarrawarra rose pinot noir from Yarra Valley, Australia, and 2006 Two Paddocks pinot noir from Central Otago, New Zealand; lobster raviolo, truffle, tomato and basil, Jerusalem artichoke with 2006 De Bortoli Estate pinot noir from Yarra Valley, and 2006 Neudorf, Mouterre pinot noir from Nelson, New Zealand; squab with maple syrup, white asparagus and wild mushrooms with 2006 Yabby Lake pinot noir from Mornington Peninsula, Australia, and 2006 Pegasus Bay pinot noir from Waipara, New Zealand; and lamb loin with basil and spiced parsnip, pickled turnip and date with 2006 Schubert, Marions pinot noir from Martinborough, New Zealand and 2006 Tarrawarra Reserve pinto noir from Yarra Valley. It ended with cherry frangipane, chocolate tart and a whole lot of good vibe.
I was to encounter Mangan again on Sunday for “Daytime Quaffing: The Art of the Long Aussie Branch” at Graze, one of the restaurants in Rochester Park.
Rochester Park looks like a leafy residential subdivision, and it really was. The 70-year-old white-washed bungalows were once homes of British army officers. Now they are made into nice restaurants and the Rochester Park into a heritage area.
The dinner started interestingly with quail egg rolled in herbs. It burst with a refreshing broth when bit, a pleasant surprise. The tanginess was well counterbalanced by the chilled beetroot soup. Then the dinner proceeded: confit of Tasmanian ocean trout, pickled cucumber, ginger, soy and lemongrass dress, with 2006 Tarrawarra rose pinot noir from Yarra Valley, Australia, and 2006 Two Paddocks pinot noir from Central Otago, New Zealand; lobster raviolo, truffle, tomato and basil, Jerusalem artichoke with 2006 De Bortoli Estate pinot noir from Yarra Valley, and 2006 Neudorf, Mouterre pinot noir from Nelson, New Zealand; squab with maple syrup, white asparagus and wild mushrooms with 2006 Yabby Lake pinot noir from Mornington Peninsula, Australia, and 2006 Pegasus Bay pinot noir from Waipara, New Zealand; and lamb loin with basil and spiced parsnip, pickled turnip and date with 2006 Schubert, Marions pinot noir from Martinborough, New Zealand and 2006 Tarrawarra Reserve pinto noir from Yarra Valley. It ended with cherry frangipane, chocolate tart and a whole lot of good vibe.
I was to encounter Mangan again on Sunday for “Daytime Quaffing: The Art of the Long Aussie Branch” at Graze, one of the restaurants in Rochester Park.
Rochester Park looks like a leafy residential subdivision, and it really was. The 70-year-old white-washed bungalows were once homes of British army officers. Now they are made into nice restaurants and the Rochester Park into a heritage area.
The open-air dining area of Graze was abuzz with people. The atmosphere was like that of a family reunion. Fountains gurgled at a nearby pond with orange carps swim languidly. The food was served in generous portions in large tables to be shared by anyone around the table— poached Tasmanian ocean trout, curried chickpeas, beetroot and feta; grilled quail with zucchini, basil, pine nuts and currants; crab omelet, mushroom and miso broth; mini Australian wagyu burgers with onion confit; salt and pepper prawns with baby corn and chorizo; and buttermilk pancakes and caramelized banana.
The hearty was hearty and flavorful, and the atmosphere casual, different form yesterday’s brunch which had an air of delicateness. We had white truffles by the river.
The Truffle Decadence Brunch was prepared Italian chef Riccardo Genovesi, who had a restaurant called Il Girasole in Sirmione. He was now in Ricciotti, an Italian casual dining restaurant in Riverwalk Galleria by the banks of the Singapore River. While Genovesi cooked, we observed boats passing by and marveled at another old structure, the Hill Street Police Station, now MICA Building with its gray façade accented by multi-colored windows.
The brunch consisted of a lot of dishes with white truffle shavings. Truffles were in season in Italy, and good cooks know the way to savor it is by having shavings on simple dishes like plain scramble eggs, which we had.
For starters, there were croissant with truffle mayonnaise and soft goat cheese, vegetable truffle tempura, deep-fried rice croquette with robiolo cheese and truffle, cold bean soup with truffle, truffle scallop gratin, calamari salad with truffle, and wagyu burger carpaccio with celery and truffle. The scrambled egg came with poached egg and truffle sabayon.
The hearty was hearty and flavorful, and the atmosphere casual, different form yesterday’s brunch which had an air of delicateness. We had white truffles by the river.
The Truffle Decadence Brunch was prepared Italian chef Riccardo Genovesi, who had a restaurant called Il Girasole in Sirmione. He was now in Ricciotti, an Italian casual dining restaurant in Riverwalk Galleria by the banks of the Singapore River. While Genovesi cooked, we observed boats passing by and marveled at another old structure, the Hill Street Police Station, now MICA Building with its gray façade accented by multi-colored windows.
The brunch consisted of a lot of dishes with white truffle shavings. Truffles were in season in Italy, and good cooks know the way to savor it is by having shavings on simple dishes like plain scramble eggs, which we had.
For starters, there were croissant with truffle mayonnaise and soft goat cheese, vegetable truffle tempura, deep-fried rice croquette with robiolo cheese and truffle, cold bean soup with truffle, truffle scallop gratin, calamari salad with truffle, and wagyu burger carpaccio with celery and truffle. The scrambled egg came with poached egg and truffle sabayon.
This was followed by fettuccini with red chicory and truffle fondue, crepes cannelloni with mushroom and truffle cream, and risotto with asparagus, Taleggio cheese and truffle. The Prawn gratin with truffle and veal tenderloin with truffle sauce served as main course.
During that brunch, I met a group of local journalists who gave me their list of must-try dishes in Singapore, particularly in Geylang: beef rice noodles at Lorong 9; bean curd at Lorong 13; Hong Kong-style char siew bao at Lorong 15; and crab bee hoon, black pepper scallops and steamed squid at Sin Huat Seafood at Lorong 35.
I was not able to try them for lack of time, but kept the list and a promise to return. I did try the quintessential Hainanese chicken rice at one of the stalls in a food center on Amoy Street. It was simple and delicious.
During that brunch, I met a group of local journalists who gave me their list of must-try dishes in Singapore, particularly in Geylang: beef rice noodles at Lorong 9; bean curd at Lorong 13; Hong Kong-style char siew bao at Lorong 15; and crab bee hoon, black pepper scallops and steamed squid at Sin Huat Seafood at Lorong 35.
I was not able to try them for lack of time, but kept the list and a promise to return. I did try the quintessential Hainanese chicken rice at one of the stalls in a food center on Amoy Street. It was simple and delicious.
Different Strains
As much as the food, music also is a highlight at the Singapore Sun Festival. This year it ranged from classical to jazz to Latin, and had Kiri Te Kanawa, the Vienna Boys Choir, UBS Verbier Festival Chamber Orchestra, Gabor Takacs-Nagy, Federica Von Stade, Murray Perahia, Esa-Pekka Salonen, Sarah Chang, Yefim Bronfman, Jesse Cook, Peter Cincotti, Sergio Mendes and Spencer Day.
I spent Saturday night with Jesse Cook and Spencer Day at Timbre, the chic café is near the Arts House, near the river. A section was closed off, and a stage was constructed in a way the artists perform with the glittering skyline along the Singapore River, a spectacle. In the cloak of darkness, I did not notice the statue of Sir Thomas Stamford Raffles, the founder of Singapore, among the audience.
I was not familiar with Cook and Day, but they were great discoveries. The Canadian flamenco guitarist Cook impressed with his dexterity, coaxing incredible sounds from the guitar and setting the air on fire. On the other hand, American Day coolly crooned, dripping with sincerity.
The highlight of my musical experience was going to the Esplanade and watching the Los Angeles Philharmonic Orchestra perform with pianist Bronfman and conductor Salonen. The repertoire consisted of Igor Stravinsky’s Fireworks, Op. 4; Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky’s Piano Concerto No. 1 in B flat minor, Op. 23; and Stravinsky’s The Firebird, the complete score of 1910.
With Sarah Chang
I was not able to catch Sarah Chang, who performed the same time Day and Cook was on. The former Korean-American child prodigy has turned into very accomplished young musician. I was able to talk to her though, and she turned out to be effervescent.
RHM: You started very, very young. How was it? It doesn’t seem to be a normal kid’s life.
SC: It’s really not. Within the circumstances, my parents did what they could. They were very supportive. They made sure I went to a normal school so I have friends my own age because when I was working I was always with grownups and people twice my age, three times my age if not older. When I was working, touring, recording, doing concerts, that was one set of my life and then when I went home I was a kid. My mom expected me to do homework. I went to Juilliard on top of that so I would have all the musical training. I feel that it was very structured and categorized in a way that I really did try to get the most, the best of out of both worlds. In theory it works like that. Obviously going to high school that became really, really hard. Because it’s hard enough when you’re just a full time student, but to have a career, as long as it’s a recording career, and then trying to finish school and keep up with school, it’s not fun. It was at a time when email was just starting but not huge so I really did finish high school like that. I really did. It truly saved my sanity. That was the only way that I was able to finish school. I had great teachers, amazing professors, who were willing to work with me, you know, to fax this when I’m working extra in the classroom. They were usually supportive but you know at the end of the day their requirements have to be met. There were a few years of rehearsals, concerts, parties and dinners and all that great stuff and then having to rush back to the hotel to do my homework, and I did. Many years of that. I’m glad it’s over now.
The highlight of my musical experience was going to the Esplanade and watching the Los Angeles Philharmonic Orchestra perform with pianist Bronfman and conductor Salonen. The repertoire consisted of Igor Stravinsky’s Fireworks, Op. 4; Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky’s Piano Concerto No. 1 in B flat minor, Op. 23; and Stravinsky’s The Firebird, the complete score of 1910.
With Sarah Chang
I was not able to catch Sarah Chang, who performed the same time Day and Cook was on. The former Korean-American child prodigy has turned into very accomplished young musician. I was able to talk to her though, and she turned out to be effervescent.
RHM: You started very, very young. How was it? It doesn’t seem to be a normal kid’s life.
SC: It’s really not. Within the circumstances, my parents did what they could. They were very supportive. They made sure I went to a normal school so I have friends my own age because when I was working I was always with grownups and people twice my age, three times my age if not older. When I was working, touring, recording, doing concerts, that was one set of my life and then when I went home I was a kid. My mom expected me to do homework. I went to Juilliard on top of that so I would have all the musical training. I feel that it was very structured and categorized in a way that I really did try to get the most, the best of out of both worlds. In theory it works like that. Obviously going to high school that became really, really hard. Because it’s hard enough when you’re just a full time student, but to have a career, as long as it’s a recording career, and then trying to finish school and keep up with school, it’s not fun. It was at a time when email was just starting but not huge so I really did finish high school like that. I really did. It truly saved my sanity. That was the only way that I was able to finish school. I had great teachers, amazing professors, who were willing to work with me, you know, to fax this when I’m working extra in the classroom. They were usually supportive but you know at the end of the day their requirements have to be met. There were a few years of rehearsals, concerts, parties and dinners and all that great stuff and then having to rush back to the hotel to do my homework, and I did. Many years of that. I’m glad it’s over now.
RHM: How different is it performing in the festival in Tuscany from this one in Singapore?
SC: First of all, this is by far the biggest hall and this is the proper hall. This is an actual proper hall. You can bring any orchestra, any conductor, and this is at par with any of the great halls in the world. The one in Tuscany, it’s just small opera hall. It’s beautiful but it is not an opera hall. You can’t fit in a big orchestra. I have played with a reduced chamber orchestra. Of the opera halls in Europe and especially in Italy, they’re like little miniature jewel boxes. They’re very like visually beautiful but capacity-wise they’re smaller, and the number of seats are smaller as well. The stage there is so much smaller. You can’t fit a hundred and twenty on stage, whereas this (the Esplanade) is enormous. There are differences like that. I’ve gone to Cortona a few times. It’s just different because here like after yesterday’s concert we have this big thing at the tent, we all went out to dinner and we had drinks at the Raffles then we went clubbing. It’s really a cosmopolitan big city. There’s so much to do here. Whereas Cortona is rustic. It’s wine country. A lot of green stuff. Really, really beautiful but in a different way like all cobblestones. You don’t wear heels there because you’ll get stuck and stuff like that. It’s one of those places where there’s one strip of shops and that’s basically it. It is like in a lot of little Italian cities and you go there and you get vegetables and stuff, and there were a few shoe stores and clothing stores. I remember I was walking back after one of the rehearsals and there was this little shoe shop which is so cute, so great. The next day I tried to go back and it was closed, and that wasn’t like on a Sunday or anything else. It was just a regular Thursday, four in the afternoon. No big deal. I asked the guy the next day why were you closed, and he said my mom came so we went out, we had company and we had lunch and it sort of got late so I just closed the shop. It’s sort of like that—totally easy-going, slightly disorganized, which is charming in a way. They’re very laidback. It’s different being in small Italian city from being in a big city.
RHM: What’s your personal definition of music?
SC: For me, it’s my life. It’s a huge part of my life. It takes over most of my major decisions. In the music industry, we schedule really far in advance. So right now we’re doing my 2011 to 2012 calendar so you know what city you’ll be in, who you’ll be working with on a certain day on 2011. It adds a little bit of stability, which is really good. It’s a challenge just to live the rest of your normal life. With all this extra stuff that goes on and at the end of the day, when you go on stage and actually play and to be with an audience that is so enthusiastic, to be with an orchestra and conductor that you really click with and work really well with, then the chemistry is there, that really makes everything just click, you know. It really all works out.
RHM: If you weren’t a musician, what would you be? What other interests aside from music do you have?
SC: I was at one point really interested in journalism, not just because I do some interviews, but I love to write and all that about me. But if I wasn’t actually a violinist I would hope that I would be somehow involved in the music industry, the promotion side of it, the recording company side of it.
SC: First of all, this is by far the biggest hall and this is the proper hall. This is an actual proper hall. You can bring any orchestra, any conductor, and this is at par with any of the great halls in the world. The one in Tuscany, it’s just small opera hall. It’s beautiful but it is not an opera hall. You can’t fit in a big orchestra. I have played with a reduced chamber orchestra. Of the opera halls in Europe and especially in Italy, they’re like little miniature jewel boxes. They’re very like visually beautiful but capacity-wise they’re smaller, and the number of seats are smaller as well. The stage there is so much smaller. You can’t fit a hundred and twenty on stage, whereas this (the Esplanade) is enormous. There are differences like that. I’ve gone to Cortona a few times. It’s just different because here like after yesterday’s concert we have this big thing at the tent, we all went out to dinner and we had drinks at the Raffles then we went clubbing. It’s really a cosmopolitan big city. There’s so much to do here. Whereas Cortona is rustic. It’s wine country. A lot of green stuff. Really, really beautiful but in a different way like all cobblestones. You don’t wear heels there because you’ll get stuck and stuff like that. It’s one of those places where there’s one strip of shops and that’s basically it. It is like in a lot of little Italian cities and you go there and you get vegetables and stuff, and there were a few shoe stores and clothing stores. I remember I was walking back after one of the rehearsals and there was this little shoe shop which is so cute, so great. The next day I tried to go back and it was closed, and that wasn’t like on a Sunday or anything else. It was just a regular Thursday, four in the afternoon. No big deal. I asked the guy the next day why were you closed, and he said my mom came so we went out, we had company and we had lunch and it sort of got late so I just closed the shop. It’s sort of like that—totally easy-going, slightly disorganized, which is charming in a way. They’re very laidback. It’s different being in small Italian city from being in a big city.
RHM: What’s your personal definition of music?
SC: For me, it’s my life. It’s a huge part of my life. It takes over most of my major decisions. In the music industry, we schedule really far in advance. So right now we’re doing my 2011 to 2012 calendar so you know what city you’ll be in, who you’ll be working with on a certain day on 2011. It adds a little bit of stability, which is really good. It’s a challenge just to live the rest of your normal life. With all this extra stuff that goes on and at the end of the day, when you go on stage and actually play and to be with an audience that is so enthusiastic, to be with an orchestra and conductor that you really click with and work really well with, then the chemistry is there, that really makes everything just click, you know. It really all works out.
RHM: If you weren’t a musician, what would you be? What other interests aside from music do you have?
SC: I was at one point really interested in journalism, not just because I do some interviews, but I love to write and all that about me. But if I wasn’t actually a violinist I would hope that I would be somehow involved in the music industry, the promotion side of it, the recording company side of it.
RHM: Who is the biggest source of inspiration in your musical career?
SC: I would say probably my teacher, Miss (Dorothy) DeLay. She passed away several years ago. But she was an incredible teacher who taught like a whole list of really wonderful, wonderful musicians. Her and Isaac Stern probably. He really had a wonderful way of keeping an eye on the next generation of musicians, and was constantly calling and asking what you are working on, when are you going to Europe, and I want to hear you playing. You know, keeping an eye out. That’s pretty impressive, to see somebody of that stature and that important and huge, and he was certainly making that effort.
RHM: Do you have one violin or several?
SC: I travel with one but back home I’ve got a few. I got one that I bring out for photo sessions. I have one sometimes for outdoor concerts. When it’s raining or really hot and humid, it’s not good for the instrument. I got another one for that. [But I have] one main, one main instrument.
RHM: How’s your relationship with your violin? Some artists can be protective of their instruments.
SC: I don’t think I would go that far, but it is pretty special. For me, it’s my life, almost like an extension of your body. You spend a lot of time with it so you get to know it pretty well. They get quite temperamental with the different climates that we’re in. It’s very, very sensitive. Over the years, you need to learn how to make it work for you, realize if you’re in a tropical climate what it will and it cannot do this for you. And if you’re somewhere really high up like in Aspen, Colorado, you realize what amazing things it can do for you. What you want to do you know after the climate but you should just be calm and just learn.
RHM: What’s your main violin?
SC: It’s a Guarneri, del Gesu. It is about 300 years old. I’m pretty lucky to have it.
RHM: What do you dream of doing?
SC: A vacation. Just a little bit of breathing time sometimes. Where I could just have a free day and like actually a free day. With my life right now I don’t know if I actually have a so-called free day. It gets jam-packed with things that my manager puts in without me knowing. At least it’s not complicated. You know what I love doing is when I finally go home like for Christmas, my little brother and I, we usually…because when you travel so much you can’t keep up with your TV shows. There’s no way, right? The weekly TV shows you try to follow like Prison Break, Lost or whatever. You go away for seven days and then like everybody’s dead. You don’t know what happened. And then your friends start telling me, and you don’t want to hear it. Normally, when I’m home for like a day and then I need to leave again, I barely had enough time to repack. Usually we went out on Christmas and get everything on DVD. My brother and I would just literally like go through all the seasons in one sitting, all day, all night. We don’t even get up for meals. We’re pretty serious about it. I love doing that. I love doing that when you just basically catch up on life.
With Spencer Day
Spencer Day, whom some critics have dubbed as the “male Norah Jones,” I got to know more the day after his performance. Like Chang, he was young, open and easygoing. We were in a room in one of the top floors of the Conrad Centennial. Against the backdrop of buildings, he gave some of his thoughts:
RHM: Any influences?
SD: I have a ton of different influences. I think it has been a challenge in the industry because I am not doing what I think a lot of people expect me to do. I had some challenges in my career because I think I am not as jazzy like Michael Buble, or I am not doing a big band thing but I am also not doing a rock thing. But I think ultimately, hopefully that would be a huge benefit, that I don’t fit into either of those categories. I also grew up listening to a lot of different sorts of good music—country or Western music. My favorite singers are Ella Fitzgerald and Chet Baker. I really think they both sing ballads so beautifully. I really consider myself a torch singer, a ballad singer. I don’t think there have been a lot of torch singers lately though, more of another time period. I want to try bring that spirit of another time but put it in a more modern context.
RHM: How does a song idea come to you?
SD: It starts with coffee. Nothing happens without coffee. So as long as the trees keep growing beans, I would have ideas hopefully. When I am stuck with an idea, what I do is listen to something, whether it’s bolero or Joni Mitchell, and listen to a song I really like and try to figure what it is that I enjoy about it, and start to play along with it. When I stop the CD, it kind of transforms to something else. Sometimes by the point that I am done, it does not sound like anything like what I have started to listen to. When I am stuck creatively, I’d like to go back to a catalog of songs that I really love and respect, and think of what it is that makes me feel good about it and try to come up with my own interpretation. Sometimes, if I am stuck creatively, to work up a challenge, I would write a love song but never use the word love in it or do something like that. Or maybe just write a song about a bottle of water and what makes you think about it. It is a great way to focus your self. I think there are a lot of artists who tend to be very scattered. I put a lot of discipline onto myself.
RHM: Do you have any idiosyncrasies or rituals before creating a song?
SD: I meditate a lot. I think creating an atmosphere wherein you can be creative is really important. That’s why I live now in the woods. I don’t live in the city. Usually I can find it when it is really quite which I do better too. I need to be alone, too. If I need to do any work calls or something like that, I have to do it on a different day. If I am going to be creative, I have to wake in the morning knowing that I have nothing else to do left to do because you are using the left part of your brain. Anytime I start thinking that I should write this song to make money or something else, it kind of ruins the creative impulse. You really need to be open and free. Yeah, I guess my real ritual is turning off my phone.
SC: I would say probably my teacher, Miss (Dorothy) DeLay. She passed away several years ago. But she was an incredible teacher who taught like a whole list of really wonderful, wonderful musicians. Her and Isaac Stern probably. He really had a wonderful way of keeping an eye on the next generation of musicians, and was constantly calling and asking what you are working on, when are you going to Europe, and I want to hear you playing. You know, keeping an eye out. That’s pretty impressive, to see somebody of that stature and that important and huge, and he was certainly making that effort.
RHM: Do you have one violin or several?
SC: I travel with one but back home I’ve got a few. I got one that I bring out for photo sessions. I have one sometimes for outdoor concerts. When it’s raining or really hot and humid, it’s not good for the instrument. I got another one for that. [But I have] one main, one main instrument.
RHM: How’s your relationship with your violin? Some artists can be protective of their instruments.
SC: I don’t think I would go that far, but it is pretty special. For me, it’s my life, almost like an extension of your body. You spend a lot of time with it so you get to know it pretty well. They get quite temperamental with the different climates that we’re in. It’s very, very sensitive. Over the years, you need to learn how to make it work for you, realize if you’re in a tropical climate what it will and it cannot do this for you. And if you’re somewhere really high up like in Aspen, Colorado, you realize what amazing things it can do for you. What you want to do you know after the climate but you should just be calm and just learn.
RHM: What’s your main violin?
SC: It’s a Guarneri, del Gesu. It is about 300 years old. I’m pretty lucky to have it.
RHM: What do you dream of doing?
SC: A vacation. Just a little bit of breathing time sometimes. Where I could just have a free day and like actually a free day. With my life right now I don’t know if I actually have a so-called free day. It gets jam-packed with things that my manager puts in without me knowing. At least it’s not complicated. You know what I love doing is when I finally go home like for Christmas, my little brother and I, we usually…because when you travel so much you can’t keep up with your TV shows. There’s no way, right? The weekly TV shows you try to follow like Prison Break, Lost or whatever. You go away for seven days and then like everybody’s dead. You don’t know what happened. And then your friends start telling me, and you don’t want to hear it. Normally, when I’m home for like a day and then I need to leave again, I barely had enough time to repack. Usually we went out on Christmas and get everything on DVD. My brother and I would just literally like go through all the seasons in one sitting, all day, all night. We don’t even get up for meals. We’re pretty serious about it. I love doing that. I love doing that when you just basically catch up on life.
With Spencer Day
Spencer Day, whom some critics have dubbed as the “male Norah Jones,” I got to know more the day after his performance. Like Chang, he was young, open and easygoing. We were in a room in one of the top floors of the Conrad Centennial. Against the backdrop of buildings, he gave some of his thoughts:
RHM: Any influences?
SD: I have a ton of different influences. I think it has been a challenge in the industry because I am not doing what I think a lot of people expect me to do. I had some challenges in my career because I think I am not as jazzy like Michael Buble, or I am not doing a big band thing but I am also not doing a rock thing. But I think ultimately, hopefully that would be a huge benefit, that I don’t fit into either of those categories. I also grew up listening to a lot of different sorts of good music—country or Western music. My favorite singers are Ella Fitzgerald and Chet Baker. I really think they both sing ballads so beautifully. I really consider myself a torch singer, a ballad singer. I don’t think there have been a lot of torch singers lately though, more of another time period. I want to try bring that spirit of another time but put it in a more modern context.
RHM: How does a song idea come to you?
SD: It starts with coffee. Nothing happens without coffee. So as long as the trees keep growing beans, I would have ideas hopefully. When I am stuck with an idea, what I do is listen to something, whether it’s bolero or Joni Mitchell, and listen to a song I really like and try to figure what it is that I enjoy about it, and start to play along with it. When I stop the CD, it kind of transforms to something else. Sometimes by the point that I am done, it does not sound like anything like what I have started to listen to. When I am stuck creatively, I’d like to go back to a catalog of songs that I really love and respect, and think of what it is that makes me feel good about it and try to come up with my own interpretation. Sometimes, if I am stuck creatively, to work up a challenge, I would write a love song but never use the word love in it or do something like that. Or maybe just write a song about a bottle of water and what makes you think about it. It is a great way to focus your self. I think there are a lot of artists who tend to be very scattered. I put a lot of discipline onto myself.
RHM: Do you have any idiosyncrasies or rituals before creating a song?
SD: I meditate a lot. I think creating an atmosphere wherein you can be creative is really important. That’s why I live now in the woods. I don’t live in the city. Usually I can find it when it is really quite which I do better too. I need to be alone, too. If I need to do any work calls or something like that, I have to do it on a different day. If I am going to be creative, I have to wake in the morning knowing that I have nothing else to do left to do because you are using the left part of your brain. Anytime I start thinking that I should write this song to make money or something else, it kind of ruins the creative impulse. You really need to be open and free. Yeah, I guess my real ritual is turning off my phone.
RHM: Do you have any favorite songs that you wrote?
SD: I love them all. They are like children. Even if you have one kid who’s in jail you would still love him the same. I am really proud of the song I did last night, called “Weeping Willow,” and some of the ones that are very melodically strong. I think those of the songs I most proud of. I think a lot of songwriters are saying the best song they have ever written they haven’t written it yet. It is yet to come. Maybe tonight, who knows.
SD: I love them all. They are like children. Even if you have one kid who’s in jail you would still love him the same. I am really proud of the song I did last night, called “Weeping Willow,” and some of the ones that are very melodically strong. I think those of the songs I most proud of. I think a lot of songwriters are saying the best song they have ever written they haven’t written it yet. It is yet to come. Maybe tonight, who knows.
RHM: Do you have a philosophy you follow?
SD: I think one of my main goals through music is to try to bring all the religions and philosophies in the world and show them what they have in common. I have been studying a lot of Buddhism recently, but I think they all have the values of Christianity, Buddhism, Islam and Judaism, etc.
RHM: What do you want people to remember you for?
SD: That is a very good question. I think what I want people to remember me for, long after I have gone in the earth, I hope there is a little smile in their face. I think if I could leave people feeling something or thinking something, that is my main goal. I really want to encourage people to look at the world and human beings a little differently. Even if I could only do that with one person in an audience where after they go home and encourage them to view their lives in a more positive way. That is my goal. I think musically, to just leave them with something beautiful. It is a very simple goal.
SD: I think one of my main goals through music is to try to bring all the religions and philosophies in the world and show them what they have in common. I have been studying a lot of Buddhism recently, but I think they all have the values of Christianity, Buddhism, Islam and Judaism, etc.
RHM: What do you want people to remember you for?
SD: That is a very good question. I think what I want people to remember me for, long after I have gone in the earth, I hope there is a little smile in their face. I think if I could leave people feeling something or thinking something, that is my main goal. I really want to encourage people to look at the world and human beings a little differently. Even if I could only do that with one person in an audience where after they go home and encourage them to view their lives in a more positive way. That is my goal. I think musically, to just leave them with something beautiful. It is a very simple goal.
Departure
The Independent Travellers guidebook says Singapore can be represented by Sentosa: “If you were blindfolded and taken on a mystery ride to anywhere in the world and then allowed to open your eyes on Sentosa you’d know it was part of Singapore. This mixture of exquisite tackiness, anally retentive cleanliness and nitpicking attention to detail could only be Singaporean. Having said that, you mustn’t miss a bit of it. It’s what Singapore is all about.”
Wesley Gunter, a publicist for the festival who accompanied us though the events, said Sentosa is made for tourist and does not represent Singapore. If he is to pick a place, it would be Orchard Road.
Orchard Road is a mercantile place, truly representing Singapore as an economic powerhouse. It is known as a shopping area, where a lot of people from different walks of life, with different ethnic backgrounds, converge. Most Filipinos converge in one mall there, the Lucky Plaza.
Wesley may be right. The guidebook may also be right. It is actually hard to pigeonhole Singapore.
Did I see Singapore in the Sun Festival? Considering the sophistication, the cosmopolitan feel, the arts, the striving to do good and the best, probably I did. The festival is global in nature and Singapore is global, a melting pot. It is open. Everybody from different parts of the world can feel at ease, can be at home and at the same time Singapore provides them with a venue to know the unfamiliar, the foreign. They say it has no character because it is too well-planned. But there is character in everything. That it is well-planned is a character. Singapore, in its seamlessness is beautiful, a universal beauty.
My first journey to Singapore was like what the guidebook describes, being blindfolded and taken on a mystery ride. There was much life when I opened my eyes. The weather turned bad the day we departed. Lighting shattered the gray sky while we drove to airport. Its started to rain. Despite the gloominess, there was a warm glow inside from the experience of the Sun Festival.
The Independent Travellers guidebook says Singapore can be represented by Sentosa: “If you were blindfolded and taken on a mystery ride to anywhere in the world and then allowed to open your eyes on Sentosa you’d know it was part of Singapore. This mixture of exquisite tackiness, anally retentive cleanliness and nitpicking attention to detail could only be Singaporean. Having said that, you mustn’t miss a bit of it. It’s what Singapore is all about.”
Wesley Gunter, a publicist for the festival who accompanied us though the events, said Sentosa is made for tourist and does not represent Singapore. If he is to pick a place, it would be Orchard Road.
Orchard Road is a mercantile place, truly representing Singapore as an economic powerhouse. It is known as a shopping area, where a lot of people from different walks of life, with different ethnic backgrounds, converge. Most Filipinos converge in one mall there, the Lucky Plaza.
Wesley may be right. The guidebook may also be right. It is actually hard to pigeonhole Singapore.
Did I see Singapore in the Sun Festival? Considering the sophistication, the cosmopolitan feel, the arts, the striving to do good and the best, probably I did. The festival is global in nature and Singapore is global, a melting pot. It is open. Everybody from different parts of the world can feel at ease, can be at home and at the same time Singapore provides them with a venue to know the unfamiliar, the foreign. They say it has no character because it is too well-planned. But there is character in everything. That it is well-planned is a character. Singapore, in its seamlessness is beautiful, a universal beauty.
My first journey to Singapore was like what the guidebook describes, being blindfolded and taken on a mystery ride. There was much life when I opened my eyes. The weather turned bad the day we departed. Lighting shattered the gray sky while we drove to airport. Its started to rain. Despite the gloominess, there was a warm glow inside from the experience of the Sun Festival.
