By Allan Yap & Nigel A. Skelchy
This acappella concert will be in aid of Hospis Malaysia with a CHARITY NIGHT on Thursday, 16 November 2006 at KLPAC. For those of you who don't know where that is, here's a map, http://www.klpac.com/Welcome.asp?c=venuelocation
For those of you can't be bothered to click, here is the map itself! ;-)
Another concert by The Wicked Pitches, Nominated 4 times in total for The Boh Cameronian Arts Awards for 2003 and 2004 shows FUNKAPPELLA! And FUNKAPPELLA STRIKES BACK! respectively.
“The Wicked Pitches - Mostly, We Moon...” features a host of songs featuring Moon...s and Moon...ing about with love songs. The Wicked Pitches adds their own inimitable twist to songs like “Moon...dance,” “Blue Moon...,” “Smoke Get’s In Your Eyes,” and the Mandarin favourite, “Moon... In The City.”
Artistic Director and choreographer; MICHAEL VOON (‘One In A Million,’ ‘Malaysian Idol,’ ‘Aspects of Broadway,’ ‘The Breakers’)
| When; | Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday, 16th to 19th November 2006 at 8.30pm Thursday 16th November 2006 is a charity show in aid of Hospis Malaysia And a Matinee show on Sunday, 19th November 2006 at 3.00pm |
| Where; | Kuala Lumpur Performing Arts Centre (KLPAC) (http://www.klpac.com) Sentul Park
Jalan Strachan
51100 Kuala Lumpur |
| Tickets & Reservations; | Available from Kuala Lumpur Performing Arts Centre AND The Actors’ Studio Bangsar - Tickets go on sale 1 October 2006. Reservations; 03-40479000 or 03-20949400 |
| Prices; | RM62, RM42, RM30* for shows from Friday to Sunday 17th to 19th November 2006 RM80 for CHARITY show in aid of Hospis Malaysia on Thursday 16th November 2006 *conditions apply for student seats |
By Allan Yap & Nigel A. Skelchy
Capt Ed and Bolero
Swan 59 Class of Yacht
We've been very very fortunate guys!
We had the opportunity to plan a dream engagement for a couple who won the prize of the dream engagement from Hennessy. The itinerary was truly dream fulfilling. A stay at the 5 star resort of Sheraton Langkawi Beach Resort. An evening cruise on board a racing yacht (Swan 59 class) and a lovely romantic candlelit dinner for the couple plus an excursion to the the misnamed suspension bridge by cable car. Misnamed because it really is a Cable Stay bridge. Something that W, an engineer by profession should know something about. ;-)
The weekend after that we pissed off to Tenggol for a short diving break. It's one of those things that is so addictive, that even a bad experience, like bobbing up and down on the sea for 55minutes doesn't put you off it. You chalk it up to the experience and move on and enjoy yourself. Have a look at the pics. ;-)
Descent to the depths
Blue Dragon Nudibranch
Lionfish
The Flying Dutchman? ;-)
Pic of giant clam copied from D's pic. Frankly, if D wanted to, he could become a truly wonderful professional photographer. As they say, the only difference between a pro and a passionate amateur is that one get's paid for it.
Nemo
Glass shrimp - see if you can spot them
Sea Slug sex or Nudibranch Nookie - Can you spot the penis?
Surfer Dude
Ah...
By Allan Yap & Nigel A. Skelchy
Had the privilege of attending a Master Class conducted by The Idea of North.
Fantastic acappella group and all round nice people.
Here's a pic of Mimi and I with them. :-)
By Allan Yap & Nigel A. Skelchy
Mum, Dad, and myself have been planning to go to Singapore for a couple of weeks now. We were going to go visit a cousin of mine who is not too well and we were leaving on 14 May.
Plans change.
A string of events led to that change in plans. But in and of themselves, they seemed innocuous enough.
Last Thursday, after servicing our Honda, we brought the car back and noticed that the crack in our front windscreen had grown and was now stretching all the way down the left side of the glass. We ignored it.
On Friday, when Allan went to start the car on our way out to a dinner, there was an explosion which we later found out was an exploding battery. Kudos to Honda by the way for the great service and efficient and timely communications! But the service centre later told us that it was not common and our car was the first one that that centre had ever seen happen.
While the car was being serviced on Saturday, we made alternate plans to drive Dad's Merc down to Singapore. The car had just been serviced and it was running nicely.
With my car being serviced, and Dad using Mum's car, I had no choice but to run around in Dad's car. When I switched the airconditioner on, warm air blew out of it and remained that way for the next 10 minutes, the time it took me to get to my next destination. Yes, the airconditioner was on the fritz.
At this time, Dad and I agreed that maybe we should try the busses to get to Singapore. So off he goes to try and get tickets.
By now, looking back at the string of events that had occurred, I was not quite comfortable going to Singapore. It seemed like something was trying to tell us not to go.
The phone rings and it's Dad. He tells me the bus tickets are full. Going down on Sunday. Hmmmm! At that point I decided that we're not coming down.
Something was telling us not to go. I'm certain.
By Allan Yap & Nigel A. Skelchy
YAY! YAY! Joy! Joy!
And yes, "American Idol" is my guilty pleasure!
By Allan Yap & Nigel A. Skelchy
Ustaz Khoiron
By Karim Raslan
Published on August 20, 2002
http://www.ytlcommunity.com/karimraslan/article.asp?theid=30
The Holy Koran opens with the words “Bismillah Ar-Rahman Ar-Rahim” – “In the Name of Allah, the Merciful, The Compassionate.” The immortal phrase follows you wherever you are in the Islamic world – it’s inscribed on the walls of mosques and homes and yet very few people, let alone believers actually stop to consider its meaning.
Clearly, forgiveness is an integral part of Islam’s timeless message and the prominence with which these two qualities – mercy and compassion have been singled out from the Ninety-nine names of Allah has, over the centuries provided a source of reassurance and solace for believers.
But man is flawed and all too often practitioners have been anything but ‘forgiving’. Instead, faith and belief is reduced to little more than a list of ‘dos’ and ‘don’ts’. In fact, contemporary Islamic practices in the Middle East (and especially the vein associated with Wahabism) appear to have sidelined the idea of forgiveness. Public debate – the Friday khutbah or sermon concentrates almost exclusively on transgression, on sin and on the suitability of punishment. Ritual has become all-important, assuming precedence along with a series of nasty ‘fire and brimstone’ lectures delivered by men (and occasionally women) who have no comprehension of humanity or a capacity for compassion.
However, the capacity to forgive and to be compassionate has not been entirely forsaken. Faith – true faith – can and does flourish in adversity, manifesting itself in the strangest places. Last month, in the heart Surabaya’s grimy, red-light district of Bangunsari – just ten minutes away from the bustling port of Tanjung Priok, I came across an understated couple who showed me – without realizing it themselves, that man hadn’t entirely failed to live up to the powerful and persuasive message.
Ustaz Khoirun with Suparti and Titin, photo by Rama Surya, Surabaya
Ustaz Khoiron and his wife Roudatul possess the quiet confidence of those who are truly religious. They are comfortable in themselves, they know that actions spoke louder than words: they don’t need to show off or pontificate.
I knew they were unusual even before I’d met them. I’d heard about the work they were doing in the lokalasasi (a designated area set aside for prostitution) – about the two schools they’d set up, the prayer classes and the ceramahs they organized as well as the impressive thirty-three meter high minaret that Khoiron had recently added to the local mosque. Located at the entrance to the lokalasasi, on the lane that brought many of the clients and ‘johns’ to Bangunsari, the Masjid al-Fatah’s striking minaret was an indication of the area’s growing sobriety: the encroaching world of the middle classes. Khoiron had also pointed out and proudly the small library alongside the mosque. In the evenings the building was as lively as one of the whorehouses, crammed with youngsters who had nowhere else to go.
Still, it took a simple and unexpected gesture by the forty-one year old Khoiron before I really sat up and took notice. At the time, I was observing a ceramah that Khoiron and a local community leader, Gusrianto arranged every Friday afternoon for the neighbourhood’s prostitutes. One of the girls (Linda, a 29-year old from Jember) had just completed a heart-felt, if halting recitation from al-Nisar, (The Women) the fourth Surah of the Holy Koran. Her voice was hoarse and her throat was obviously dry. Just then, Khoiron leant forward to offer her a small plastic container of water.
It was ingenuous act. However, given the woman’s profession his thoughtfulness was almost shocking. Most ustaz’s I knew would have been disgusted and appalled to have been in the presence of so many prostitutes even though all fifty of women were dressed demurely. But, for Khoiron, the women were a challenge. They were his challenge. Somehow, they gave him justification: they were his target – his objective: he wanted to win them over.
Later when I talked to Roudatul at their small home, I began to get a sense of the passion that had propelled the couple. Roudatul was thirty-three years old and despite the seedy environment she was always generous with her smiles. She wore a hejab, albeit casually. Still, the plain, white material couldn’t quite hide the beauty of her warm, guileless face. She cradled her youngest son in her arms as we talked.
“Khoiron and I had an arranged marriage. I was a pesantren girl – ten years studying at Bangil. I certainly didn’t know I was going to end up living in an area like this! I was so upset when I first arrived: I was angry and embarrassed. The prostitutes were right outside the house! They were everywhere. But later I realized that this is ‘my’ battle. I wouldn’t move anywhere else now: you must help people and we – Khoiron and I – must help these women to change their ways.”
The forty-one year old, Nahdatul Ullama ustaz Khoiron laughs when I ask him about his work in the lokalasasi. He’s a handsome man: darker than his wife and well built. He has a firm handshake and an easy manner: like a businessman. As we talk, there are moments when he looks slightly Arabic. This is not altogether surprising given the Pesisir’s (the north coast of Java’s) strong historical and cultural links with the Arab peninsular and the Hadramaut in particular.
“Can you imagine how bored I’d be if I was living in a quiet little community surrounded by santri (or religious students)? When I first started here, twenty-five years ago there were three thousand girls. Now there are only 900. You ask anyone about Bangunsari! It’s so close to the port and full of seamen. It was notorious!
“From a philosophical viewpoint we must remember that Allah is very loving. He gives food and drink to all men and women: good and bad. Who am I to judge? Who am I to say you’re evil or you’re good? My responsibility is straightforward: I must win the people over. Besides, if everyone was good I’d have nothing to do!”
The girls listening to Ustaz Khoirun's talk, photo by Rama Surya, Surabaya
Living in a tiny house along a narrow gang (or lane) in the middle of Bangunsari, Khoiron’s home is little different from the girlie bars that surround him, except that there is mushollah (a small prayer hall) on the first floor. The family is clearly industrious and hardworking. His mother who still wears a tightly wrapped traditional Javanese baju kebaya every day runs a small warung and his wife supplements her income with a Wartel (a telephone store). Otherwise the ustaz’s home is essentially as simple as his neighbours’.
The Nahdatul Ullama does not support individual ustaz’s: the families are on their own. Essentially, they depend on the surrounding communities for their livelihood. As a result Khoiron earns his income by giving ceramahs, officiating at weddings and even accompanying pilgrims to Mecca. His wife also organizes religious classes for over six hundred children every week: the parents pay Rp2,000 (RM1) per child per month. The house shudders when the kids dash up the external staircase to reach the mushollah. Their shrieking is almost deafening but Roudatul is so used to it she’s says she’d miss the commotion if it were to stop.
Every Friday afternoon, Khoiron and the local community leader arrange a small ceramah for the prostitutes. The location is neutral: the hall nearby – not the mosque. Having followed Khoiron as he walks through the lanes of the lokalasasi and watched him talking to the women I know the ceramah will be interesting. He is polite with them, respectful even. He smiles and says hello. He doesn’t treat them disdainfully and they respond positively to his manner.
As M’bak Yah a prostitute in her forties says of Khoiron: “He’s a good man. He treats us decently. I like his ceramahs – lots of us go. He isn’t proud or haughty. He encourages us to go home to our families.”
By Allan Yap & Nigel A. Skelchy
At first glance, the title given to this post seems contradictory. Paradoxical almost.
But after having watched "Gubra" you know that the 3 can perfectly coexist.
"Gubra" is a film that finally restores my faith in the potential of Malaysian cinema as well as, dare I say it, Malaysians in general.
I had the fortune of sitting next to a doyen of Malaysian cinema at a dinner party not too long ago and we had an amazing conversation. Datuk L. Krishnan has directed more films than I know during the 50s and 60s and spoke with conviction when he said "I keep telling these fellows to produce MalaySIAN movies, not just Malay movies."
Never was a truer word spoken.
And yesterday, I had the privilege of watching a true MalaySIAN film which entertained, tugged at your heart strings, made you laugh, made you cry, and made you believe that the best in our society is out there.
SPOILER ALERT!
From the beginning, Gubra was a film that took risks. A Muezzin who pets a dog, which must be shocking (but watch what happens when the dog "walks" off) to our more fundamental brothers, a bare (but cute) bum flapping in the wind along with the hospital robe, pork being chopped in an ostensibly Malay film, penis jokes, Muslims who looked the part of "Koran" Thumpers but subscribed to the best part of Islam, a devout muslim couple who took time to make space in their lives for a couple of prostitutes, a meaningful loving hug for an HIV positive person who rejects it at first, a delicate discussion about non-Malays in our society ("Sometimes I wonder if you guys realise how hard it is for the rest of us to live here. It’s like being in love with someone who doesn’t love you back."), and most of all a juxtaposition of prayers which for once highlights the similarities between Christianity and Islam.
I've always believed that being brothers of the Book, Christians and Muslims have had their faiths hijacked by vocally aggressive fanatics who have no compassion or mercy or love. And for faiths that are 99% similar in preaching peace, brotherly love, truth, honesty, and compassion, those same vocally aggressive fanatics also set the agenda for discussing, arguing, fighting, and warring over that 1% of difference. A difference that can be attributed to nothing more than differences of understanding the same message.
From the opening scenes right up to the closing and the surprise ending (after the credits) I was marvelling at the humour, the heart, and the outright talent of Malaysian filmmakers and actors. "Gubra" articulated the best in our people. Fancy that, a film that makes me say "our people" without hesitation. This film made me proud to be a Malaysian. It just goes to prove, that with heart and passion, Malaysians are capable of being the best of the best.
I can't encourage, urge, coerce, or push everyone enough to go and see this stand alone sequel to "Sepet."
In the words of Jellaludin Rumi, which is flashed onto the screen at the end of the film, "The lamps are different but the Light is the same."
Well done, Aunty Yasmin!
By Allan Yap & Nigel A. Skelchy
Many years ago, I had the privilege of visiting the Champagne region of France during a school break. Those were the heady days of RM3.80 to the £1. No visas were required, so it was literally a hop, skip, and a jump by ferry over to Calais one Bank Holiday weekend with two friends. My Greek buddy, an American friend, and I picked up a Pug (a Peugeot 305) in Calais and drove down to Paris through the Champagne district of France.
It was the first time I ever drove a Left Hand Drive car. I didn't really have any problems and it was late spring/early summer. The weather was, as they say in "Famous Five" books, glorious! Just the type of day for a picnic with bags of tomatoes and lashings of ginger beer!
I sorta had a thing for this Greek guy. So it made it all the more interesting. His name was Angelos. He had these really intense Meditteranean eyes and that accent...
Of course, I wasn't out yet, so had to yearn after him in private. It didn't help that he was very affectionate. He used to have his arm around me all the time. I put that down to the European in him. But then on some mornings to wake me up, he'd climb in to bed with and cuddle. Years later I actually wondered if maybe he was trying to tell me something. It was sort of a lesson I learnt; never miss an opportunity!
Anyway, I digress.
The sun was shining, the breeze was balmy, and we were in our late teens, early twenties. We thought we were such hot shit! NEXT was the big mid range clothing store of the day and bright jumpers, baggy pants ala Duran Duran/New Romantics were the rage.
We drove into Reims, parked and proceeded to be tourists. First, we visited Reims Cathedral, a gorgeous gothic icon. Next we visited the House of Pommery. A very popular brand of champagne then and now. They had these magnificent chalk cellars left behind by the Romans which keep a constant temperature year round. Although I doubt Methode Champenoise was invented then!
After that, we went to Moët & Chandon. As we were being taken round, by the resident tour guide who was also one of the employees of Moët, I noticed he kept on closing out the 'O' and pronouncing the 'T' of 'Moët.' Sort of like 'Mo-wett." I of course, being the impatient soul I am asked him about this, because the French don't usually pronounce the 'T's', and I had always thought it was pronounce 'Moh-ayy.'
He explained that Claude Moët was a French citizen but that his family was originally from the Netherlands. So Moët was actually a Dutch name. Hence the pronounciation 'Mo-ett' with the hard 'T'.
I blogged this because in the last 2 days I've heard numerous people pronouncing 'Moët' 'Mo-ayy.' And me being the infinitely curious soul I am, had to do a bit of searching to confirm my suspicions. Call it my bit of OCD. I can't stand NOT knowing. So, I headed over to Google and this entry came up on Wikipedia;
"Commonly mispronounced "mō-way", the actual pronunciation is "mo-wett". Moët is indeed French champagne, but it is spelled with a diaeresis, and this is where the confusion lies. Claude Moët was born in France in 1683; however, his name is not French, it is Dutch."
In any case, the subsequent drive to Paris was every bit as exciting as every tour book, and everyone said it would be. We lounged at cafes, picked up baguettes to eat with ripe Brie and Camembert along the River Seine. Ate at underground French bistros serving rustic French food, and of course, to wash it all down, straight from the bottle, sans glasses or cups, our "Mo-ett."
By Allan Yap & Nigel A. Skelchy
It's so easy to be negative. And perhaps for some of those who post on kakiseni.com, they feel it's clever, but I feel it defeats the purpose of CRITIQUE; especially when it's not even dignified with the inclusion of their own name. Which, to my mind, makes their opinions so much hot air.
It's a lot tougher to be constructive.
Antares wrote a brilliant review. Balanced, constructive, and he called it like he saw it. He was diplomatic, almost to a fault; but in this country, it's tough to know where to draw the line. Especially since the community is so small. Having said that, he was, I felt, compassionately honest.
My 2 cents...
Generally, I enjoyed the show.
I was awed by the creative energies that were so evident in the show. The amount of time, effort, and most especially, the talent that was poured into the show was nothing short of stupendous. It made me proud to sit and watch a show produced, created, and staged by fellow Malaysians that could be staged anywhere in the world.
That's not to say it would have been as kindly received! ;-) As we know the world's press is a lot less "forgiving" than our local establishments. And of course, sensationalistic negativism always sells more papers. Being bitchy is always seen as being so much more "clever" and witty.
The music on the whole displayed flashes of brilliance. Staging was really good. The cast, to a man, sang well. The mix of pop voices and operatic voices worked well. The costumes were, in short, fabulous!
My partner saw it twice. And he felt that the show was better the 2nd time around. Because of changes.
Therein lies my first problem.
Changes during the run?
A show of this magnitude should strive to be as consistent as possible, during the run. Changes during a run can only mean that the creative process, while certainly awe inspiring to a first time viewer of M! like myself, was allowed to run unfettered. At the beginning of a production, that is a good thing. But when you come to the actual staging of the show, it is not. Especially when you need to make sure the mass audience consumes a consistently high quality product.
In other words, the artistic has total control to the detriment of the commercial. There needs to be, I believe, a balance of both. With the slider bar moving from "art" to "commerce" closer to the date of performance. A certain discipline needs to be exercised to draw a line. It's not easy.
My second issue lay with the coherence of the Opera. The music was brilliant, if somewhat inaccessible during the more experimental bits. Some of the ballads were heart stoppingly beautiful. Saidah Rastam is indeed a composer of international stature.
However, a leitmotif to tie the entire opera would have made a huge difference.
As it was, I felt I was watching vignettes rather than a seamless Opera. The entire feel was choppy.
The use of recitatives to move the plot along interspersed with individual Arias (that's what they were) were classic Opera devices.
The libretto was at times, somewhat enigmatic. There were some deep metaphors which were being explored which meant that you really had to think about what you were watching. This may be culturally accurate. Malay plays I believe use metaphor a lot. But for an opera which aspires to the international stage AND to be a commercially viable piece, it can make it tough for the mass audience to understand. The question is, how do you make it subtle enough not to be sledgehammer obvious for a certain amount of sophistication, but not to shroud the whole thing in metaphor that too much thinking on the part of the audience is required?
Which brings me to my summary of M! The Opera. In general, I really liked it. On a cerebral level. There were flashes of absolute brilliance. The staging, music, costumes and performances were up there with almost anything I'd seen before.
But it wasn't something I felt in my gut. I did not step out of M! gushing. Nor did I come out hating a particular character, nor did I leave humming a particular tune. For all it's brilliance, a theme, a motif would have been the ribbon on the present.
Kudos to all the performers; George Chan (who stole the show from Khir Rahman, who himself was very very good) Doreen Tang, for her singing, performance, and obviously, her tireless efforts at portraying a muse. Cindy Yeap, Peter Ong, Timothy Ooi, Azean Irdawaty, Paula Malai Ali, Maizurah Hamzah, Mia Palencia, and the ensemble for delivering above and beyond the call of duty. Yes, I heard about the rehearsals! ;-)
But above all, Kudos to Saidah, the producers, Chako Vadaketh, the director, Jo Kukathas and everyone involved with the show.
I feel that with a certain amount of editing and judicious scoring M! The Opera could be a certifiable hit. It has all the right ingredients. Love, hate, jealousy, murder, remorse! Everything a good Opera needs.
I certainly hope the hoops and the hurdles won't stop this bunch of merry people from moving forward. M! The Opera, for all it's faults was a very big step in the right direction.
By Allan Yap & Nigel A. Skelchy
If you have an old favourite tshirt (mine is my black, Halloween Hard Rock Maui T shirt with Skeletons surfing), you can now save it by sending it to LowTee and have it converted to a speedo style pair of swim trunks.
Check Maddie's concert tour tshirt out;
I've got a sneaky suspicion however, that the creators of this fashion brainstorm must be targetting a certain fit segment of the market. Their sizes max out at "L" for Large at 34-36 in waists.
By Allan Yap & Nigel A. Skelchy
If you're an acappella or music lover, check this out.
http://84.40.3.164/
By Allan Yap & Nigel A. Skelchy
Guys, you all watch porn of some sort right?
Get a load of this...
Beautiful Agony
You know what they say about the French and how they're so romantic and all. Well, in this one particular area I must admit they are. Who else in the world would call an orgasm, the 'little death.' Or La Petite Mort.
It makes it sound so noble, so self-sacrificing, so yearning.
But on top of that, whoever would have thought that an Australian company would run a subscription "porn" site based on facial expressions of that climactic moment (if you'll excuse the pun).
They call their participants "artists." I'm wondering how you get chosen or how you contribute. Do you contact them and say "I want to cum for you?" Or maybe they have scouts who go around, spot relatively decent looking people and say "would you like to have your face shown on the internet at the moment that you cum?"
It's questions like these that keep me awake at night. NOT!
By Allan Yap & Nigel A. Skelchy
My belief in couple-dom has been revitalised, restored, and otherwise reinvigorated.
Actually, not that it ever needed revitalising, restoration, or reinvigoration.
Hmmm...
I've always believed that the most successful relationships were based on mutual trust, a certain amount of compromise and 3 very important attributes; the right time, the right place, AND not necessarily the most important factor, the right person.
Those who believe in Hollywood's notion of "amour" must be up in arms about now.
How can the right person NOT be the MOST important attribute?
Simple really...
People, I believe, are inherently good. However, in their bringing up and experiences, most people are TAUGHT to act out in fear rather than in love. It takes greater courage to act on the latter than the former. People who say "I need to protect myself by cutting my losses" needs to perhaps think "what is the right thing for me to do which will help the other realise what needs to be done." We can only control our own actions, after all.
In any case, more often than not, if both parties are willing to work things out as they go along, cross each bridge as they come to it, live day by day, rather than wondering about some far off nebulous future, they really have a pretty decent chance at success.
Don't you just luuurrrrve the effusive use of cliches?
The wisest thing I ever heard about being "married" was what my Uncle said at his 40th wedding anniversary; "Bernie (my aunt, Bernadette) and I woke up in the morning, took the kids to school, went to work, came home, put dinner on the table, went to sleep, and the next thing you know, it's 40 years later."
I took it to mean that they lived one day at a time, worked out each problem as it came up, negotiated every settlement, accepted that the other person doesn't ALWAYS come up to the the mark of what we expect in EVERY area, and more than anything, lived in a spiritual environment of wanting to work things out!
Christmas and New Year was a period when Allan and I were invited to a 25th Wedding Anniversary, a 17th Anniversary, a possible civil union in the UK, and to meet a new couple here in KL.
Suffice to say; Paddy and Jo, you are an inspiration of steadfastness and love.
Ian and Jogy; your courage has helped you cross continents to be with each other. If that isn't a testament to love in action, I don't know what is.
Petra and Jackson, for being loving and accepting of Allan and myself, and for being such a wonderful light for companionship and loyalty after so many years, we admire and aspire to your spirituality and attitude.
Dan & Chui; to the best "bro-in-law" and "sis-in-law" a guy ever had. Live long and prosper. ;-) Next dive trip we promise we'll go. But I'm looking forward to Siem Reap! Their secret...do stuff together that they love!
Loved these 2 pics of Sean and Whye Mun with Allan and I respectively. So included them in this post too.
By Allan Yap & Nigel A. Skelchy
Partying with the "boys" and Ka Cheh... ;-)
It's been an eventful year!
We've been on TV. The biz is trundling along, and we think the time has finally come to give it a bit of a push. Yes, that word...expansion.
God has been very kind to us and although some people might say we're lucky, we prefer to think of ourselves as being blessed in more ways than we could ever have imagined.
I don't necessarily believe in coincidences. I do believe that when there is guidance from the divine and you choose to listen to that guidance, the path does become easier. And signposts appear in all sorts of forms to tell you that "this is the path you need to be on at this point in time."
So, blessings to all as father time marches out of 2005 and get's reborn into 2006. To all my friends and family, thank you for your love and support that you have extended to both of us.
Allan and I wish you all the joy, love, peace, happiness and prosperity that you think you can handle AND MORE! I hope that your cup overflows.
By Allan Yap & Nigel A. Skelchy
Went to a Master Class conducted by Russell Watson yesterday with Jeremy and Mimi. Met with him and he seems a very nice and personable chap. Someone you could have a beer with.
He was very very nice and encouraging with regard to all the singers. Some of them were very good but we, and I think Cindy would have preferred more critique.
In any case, it was very inspiring and makes me want to rehearse more. ;-)
By Allan Yap & Nigel A. Skelchy
There once was a guy named Chris
Who was very much given to diss
He disappeared to Tuck
To earn more of the bucks
And now has gone amiss
Continued here
By Allan Yap & Nigel A. Skelchy
I feel like such a culture vulture.
First, Jose Carreras on Tuesday, then The Song Company on Saturday, and tonight, "The Girl From Ipoh."
The Song Company was polished, fun, a tight blend, and something that The Wicked Pitches aspire to be. Enough Said.
The Girl From Ipoh, directed by Low Ngai Yuen, starring Carmen Soo, Lee Swee Keong, Tony Eusoff, Season Chee, and the girls of LIT.
Ostensibly a story of about being Chinese and the crossover from the traditional to the modern and how both are still clashing in Malaysia. Loved it.
One could nitpick and say that some of the harmonies could be lusher and tighter but basically, the girls and Ngai Yuen stick to what they do best. Simple 1,3,5 stacked harmonies with a backbeat, LIT made the story into simple but effective Musical Theatre. They have improved tremendously and their blend is far tighter than when Allan and I saw them a couple of years ago.
Special mention needs to be mentioned of Lee Swee Keong who was powerful as Carmen Soo's Dad. Carmen was perfect in the role of chinese challenged banana. And Season Chee...I'm not certain if he has performed before but he played the role with some panache and daring. Especially the condom scene. Tony Eusoff and his usual ebullient characterisation was a treat to watch.
All in all, a very entertaining show and it was obvious that the producers had the audience in mind when they did this! More please!
By Allan Yap & Nigel A. Skelchy
I was not about to pay a minimum of RM280 to sit in the Gods to watch Jose Carreras sing.
I felt the ticket prices were very expensive and something I did not value enough to plonk for.
Then on Sunday, I get this message from a very good friend that she had scored 2 extra tickets for the concert on Tuesday night. Would we like to go? And oh yes...they're complimentary.
Naturally, I jumped at the chance. Its one thing to pay RM280 but another entirely to look a gift horse in the mouth.
Allan and I donned our suits and made our way to the venue and met up with our friends.
Jose was in fine voice and yes, you could nit pick and say that he's past his prime, but all in all, I felt that his technique was as good as ever and I learnt a lot just from watching him.
I even got to shake his hand and get his autograph. Fabulous.
All in all, a very fun and fine evening.
Did I mention we also had champagne at a post concert party?
By Allan Yap & Nigel A. Skelchy
Hellomoto!
After 4 years of faithful service, my Nokia 5210 is being given a well deserved break. It’s still in good working order (more than can be said of Allan’s new Nokia which pretty much started giving trouble on the 3rd day of use) but I felt that a change would be nice. Brought on of course, by the fact that Allan had to get a new phone because HIS 4 year old Nokia 3310 decided to call it quits.
So after a bit of shopping, I plonked for a Motorola E398 with as many bells and whistles as anyone could hope for. At a price which definitely represents better value than the 2nd Nokia that Allan bought in as many weeks. I also decided to go with a Bluetooth earpiece for those pesky times when I have to avoid being seen talking on the phone…like when I’m driving. ;-)
I used to try and hide the phone and make it look like I was resting my head in my hands when I was driving around. I’m not certain how successful I was in actually duping the cops but I must say that I haven’t been stopped for chatting on the phone while driving for some time.
Here’s a pic of it;
By Allan Yap & Nigel A. Skelchy
It’s amazing how most people look at life.
It’s almost like our happiness is predicated on someone else’s actions. If someone says or does something wrong (wrong in our eyes) we feel unhappy/cheated/hurt/disappointed etc.
Why is this?
I mean, we all subscribe to the notion that we are individuals in charge of our own destiny (by the grace of God). So why is it that we ALLOW other people to have this power over us?
For example, I wrote the critique/review of “Pygmalion.” (See post dated 23 Oct 2005).
I also posted it on Kakiseni (http:/www.kakiseni.com) under my own name of course. I feel that the opinion is pretty much worthless if you don’t back it up with your own name. That of course, is a whole other issue.
Anyways, the “review” got a stinging reply from someone by the given name of “NUMS.” To all intents and purposes he/she sounded very defensive and hurt.
The question is, why did they allow me (a solitary audience member who feels that if I sit in that seat that I have the right of comment) to get to them like that. They sounded like they took it very personally and that meant they must have been close to the play/musical somehow.
In any case, I need to do what I feel is right (according to my conscience) and them feeling defensive or taking it personally is not going to stop me from saying my piece. I feel I phrased the review very politely and civilly. In a very balanced manner. But yet, he/she took offence. And he/she will probably continue doing so.
He/she MUST realise that they cannot stop people having their own opinion so why even waste energy by taking it personally and being defensive against something that is inevitable. People will have their own thoughts and comments.
I agree people should learn to phrase reviews nicely because at the end of the day, bitchy and caustic reviews do not pass on the message that they espouse. People’s defensive walls come up and that’s it! But on the other side, people need to learn how accept critique which is uncomfortable as well.
Otherwise how do we improve as people or as performers?
