Showing posts with label interview. Show all posts
Showing posts with label interview. Show all posts

Saturday, 31 March 2012

Means To An End: An Interview with Toh Hsien Min Interview By Desmond Kon Zhicheng-Mingdé

For your reading pleasure and more information on the kind of poet Toh Hsien Min is, here is a link to an interview with Toh Hsien Min done by Desmond Kon Zhicheng-Mingdé of Prick of the Spindle, an online literary journal:

http://www.prickofthespindle.com/interviews/4.2/Kon-Min/hsienmintoh_interview.htm

- Toh Hsien Min
Credits:

Zhicheng-Mingdé, D. K. (2010). Means To An End: An Interview with Toh Hsien Min Interview By Desmond Kon Zhicheng-Mingdé. Retrieved from Prick of the Spindle: http://www.prickofthespindle.com/interviews/4.2/Kon-Min/hsienmintoh_interview.htm

Thursday, 29 March 2012

Yeo: Snippets of Reviews and Interview

“For me, Robert Yeo’s Contribution to local poetry will always be more than the sum of his poems.
Like Ee Tiang Hong, who is perhaps more polished, Yeo has given to poetry a rich, prosaic definition- one that says a good poem must, more than anything else, communicate and tell.
I can best justify such a grand attribution on very personal grounds. Yeo’s poems, which I found (and still find) refreshingly down-to-earth, changed my attitude towards poetry- and by extension, literature- when I was in secondary school”
-Chua Chong Jin, Straits Times 6 December 1989
“The play and the dialogue is strong and forceful. Scene three stands out most in the play when in a face to face confrontation, there is heated dialogue between Fernandez and Chye over ideologies, PAP, and parliamentary democracy. Though very much political, the theme is underplayed and overshadowed by other themes. The careful blend is artistic and lends itself to non commitment”
-Jagjit Nagpal, Straits Times 16 November 1980
“Robert Yeo’s volumes of poetry are not so much collections of artefacts as chronicles of a life. His poems are personal poems, reflections on observed reality. They chronicle the developments of an individual consciousness while at the same time they chronicle the development of Singapore. The parallelism of the poet and the city is unforced but recurrent.”
-Michael Wilding
Q: Would you regard yourself as a controversial writer?
A: “Controversial” is a relative word. One could be controversial because a reviewer objected to my depiction of women, as was the case with Holden Heng in 1989, and I rebutted and there was a series of exchanges. Or one is controversial for addressing themes the government was not ready to see addressed, such as opposition politics in the case of my play One Year Back Home in 1980. So yes, in these two examples, I am controversial. I see the term “controversial” as being more meaningful if it means that the writer probes new areas of expression which extends the boundaries and adds what can be said about them. In the case of Gopal Baratham, Singapore politics in A candle or the sun or sex in Sayang. (Mind you there’s a lot more than sex in Sayang.) Just as there is more to Changi than overt scenes of political interrogation in prison.
(Ban Kah Choon Talks to Robert Yeo- 2000)

Tuesday, 27 March 2012

AS: What his friends say about him


This is a video Alfian's close friends (which include prominent in the Singapore arts scene such as Roystan Tan) made him a wonderful video for his 30th birthday.
I think it's better than any interview he ever gave just because we really get to see how he really is minus the politics of his works - a really genuine and brave human being.
Watch!

Tuesday, 20 March 2012

Interviews with Suchen Christine Lim

Here are some interview excerpts taken from a blog and websites. Having mentioned a lot about her novels, the interview excerpts serve to reveal more about Lim's personal life and her perception about Singapore writing. 

-Interview by Ng Yi Sheng, taken from Writing the City, an online community.-
NYS: How did you start writing yourself?

SCL: I stumbled into writing. I’ve spoken about it in a number of interviews. I was invigilating an exam in Catholic Junior College, and you know those three-hour literature exams: everybody writing, and the afternoon is hot. And I started doodling, and the words turned into sentences, and the sentences turned into paragraphs, and before you knew it, I caught myself writing.
So I walked again, and I wrote some more. I walked again, and I wrote some more as I invigilated. And it grew into quite a few paragraphs. And I thought that I was writing a children’s story, just centered on this convent. Then I thought that I was writing a story for teenagers, because my first story was actually for teenagers.

NYS: Wow. How did you decide to do that?

SCL: I think, it was during the SARS crisis, and I found myself at almost ten o’clock, still working in the Ministry of Education. The first two victims had just died of this strange disease, and there was so much anxiety and fear, and I think my soul suddenly said, “Would I like to die holding a report on the teachers’ state of grammar in my hand, or would I like to die with an unfinished manuscript?”
So I resigned. And I remember my Deputy Director asking me whether I was resigning to seek another job. And I said no, and she asked me, “What are you going to do then?” I said, “Maybe I will end up serving fries and chips in McDonald’s.” (Laughs) Because it was unplanned, totally unplanned. But since then I think I’ve been blessed. It has been an amazing journey ever since I left Buona Vista.

NYS: What do you think of Singapore as a whole today?

SCL: When I came here, Singapore struck me at that time as being grey, brown, flat and dirty. That was in the 1960s. And now, at my age, at 62, I see Singapore as a brash, sassy young woman, you know, in high heels, ready to take her place. Sometimes she’s a woman, sometimes it morphs into a brash, arrogant young man, just saying, “I’m number one, I want to be number one.” And that’s the part I hate.

NYS: That’s really weird, that Singapore has aged from being old into youth.
SCL: In a way, in a way, you know. Because I think we have reinvented ourselves as a city: it’s like parts of the city are like a prettified middle-aged woman with a botoxed face.

- Interview by Melissa De Villiers, taken from a blog.-

MDV: What was it like starting out as a writer in a very conservative cultural environment?

It wasn't easy. But I have to take my hat off to writers like Lee Tzu Pheng and Edwin Thumboo, poets who were publishing in English at a time when it was even more difficult: one, because of the political climate; two, because back then people in Singapore were so focused on the economy, on getting ahead, on filling the rice bowl. You were faced with attitude like: "So what's all this airy-fairy, arty-farty stuff like writing, eh? You've no business to write!" I was told to my face: "Sorry, Suchen, we don't read Singapore writers. We'd rather read Jane Austen and George Eliot." Proudly it would be declared to you, the Singaporean writer, that the reading public was only interested in the classics or Nobel prizewinners.


MDV: And that's changing?

Yes, because we have a confidence now that wasn't there before. There used to be what people called a "cultural cringe" - a lack of confidence in all things Singaporean, coming mainly from people who had been educated in English. That's when I started to consider myself very fortunate to have had uneducated, dialect-speaking grandparents, both great sources of stories, and of cultural confidence too.

MDV: So you were always conscious that your outlook as a writer was somehow different from the norm?

I was always conscious, starting out, that I was different, at least from Singapore writers here who are Chinese. I do not write like people in China. I am very clear about that. And so you will see me describing myself as of Chinese ethnicity, but situated in South-east Asia.

MDV: Is there a specifically South-east Asian approach to writing fiction?


I think there is a tradition in the West - I might be wrong - that if you are an artist or writer with talent, you can get away with almost any kind of destructive behaviour. As long as you have the talent to write and are considered good, or brilliant, or splendid in some way. Here in South-east Asia that's always balanced with a kind of responsibility to community and to family. I wouldn't call it self-censorship, as such, but we are always thinking about harmony, knowing that life is actually chaos. Life is chaos.

So I see myself as coming from a tradition that tries to use writing, like the Taoists, to create balance and harmony. If the subject is not balance and harmony, if the work needs to be about chaos, then at least it should lead to some understanding of that chaos. I mean, you know there is good and evil, yes? Yin and yang. So let's deal with it, as honestly as we can, without destroying somebody in order to achieve artistic success.