Category Archives: Art

The Little Prince at The Fullerton


On Monday I went to view The Little Prince Art Collection up on display at The Fullerton. The collection consists of 14 sculptures crafted after the illustrations in the book. The sculptures were really pretty and true to the illustrations. I felt quieted walking amongst them, lifted into the vast, contemplative, star-filled universe of Saint-Exupery’s imagination. There’s something peaceful and childlike about all his drawings and writings – and I guess it is that simplicity and sincerity that makes the story of The Little Prince all the more endearing and moving to people living in the complicated world of today.

Now I feel like trying to read Night Flight again.


“I am looking for friends. What does that mean–‘tame’?”

“It is an act too often neglected,” said the fox. It means to establish ties.”

“‘To establish ties’?”

“Just that,” said the fox. “To me, you are still nothing more than a little boy who is just like a hundred thousand other little boys. And I have no need of you. And you, on your part, have no need of me. To you, I am nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world . . .”



The Little Prince sculptures will be on display in Singapore at the Fullerton Hotel until 31st May 2015.


The days that we wander/wonder

In the first few days after summer began, I spent a lot of time walking aimlessly about, struggling to figure things out in my mind and feeling a little confused inside.

During one of these drifting afternoons I stumbled upon an exhibit entitled The Days that We Wonder/Wander – a display of works revolving around the themes of journeying and mental dilemmas.

The installations were calming somehow. There were lots of silvery, shattered things, representing fragmented mental processes. I saw words and images that emboldened and dazzled and enveloped, and I think these things will stay with me a for a long while.

That day, I thought about the way our minds shimmer and shift and shatter, the days that we spend wandering inside ourselves trying to understand, the ways that we all reach for balance and stability, control and safety, coherence and perfection.

It’s rather like standing in a dark night on snowy ground after a snowstorm has passed, watching the stars fall one by one from the sky, filled with a sense of brokenness and a little bit of boldness, a willingness somehow to shine bright if only with fragments. And the heart wrenching words of Sylvia Plath come to me again: why am I given / These lamps, these planets / Falling like blessings, like flakes / Six-sided, white / On my eyes, my lips, my hair / Touching and melting, Nowhere. 


Dual/Duel by Zen Teh

For friends in Singapore, The Days that We Wander/Wonder is at Jurong Regional Library until 20th May, and is held in collaboration with CHAT.

Fear of Writing: The smell speech

A few weeks ago, our Singapore Society staged the play “Fear of Writing” by Tan Tarn How. It was staged in an oddly appropriate small theatre called the Garage Theatre, hidden in a small, dim alleyway where some rubbish bins and other paraphernalia had been stashed. This is an excerpt from the play from Tan Tarn How’s blog, one that I found deeply penetrating.

Tan Tarn How Too

Actor (as Writer): I once lived in a place which was almost perfect. It was beautiful in many ways. It was safe and clean. People were nice and polite. All the services one could want were a handy distance away. I had a nice job. The only problem was there was a faint almost imperceptible smell hanging in the air all the time. It was just the slightest hint of an odour, actually, always wavering just below or just above the limits of my ability to sense it, so sometimes I could smell it for sure, however weak, and sometimes I could almost not smell it, if you get what I mean, so I couldn’t tell whether the smell that I couldn’t smell was there or not, or was just a trick of my memory or mind. I don’t know if I am making sense in saying that something…

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Snapshots from Sensing Spaces: Architecture Reimagined


1. Our names, tangled in colour


2. A woven space, a safe space.


3. “How light reflects and how light is contained is the stuff of architecture”

SAM_13104. The place where we began, will we find it?


5. “…the proportions of the rooms, their sequence, the way they open – simple things, but which taken together suggest something more complex”


 Visiting the Sensing Spaces exhibit at the Royal Academy today, I rather felt like I was in a gigantic playground. In that childlike state of mind, it was easier to understand what it meant to engage with the spaces – to take in their colours, shapes, masses, proportions and lighting and see how they made me feel.

 I thought I would try to give snapshots of what was meaningful to me in the spaces, rather than capture and upload the entire exhibit. (To see anything in a photo before experiencing it yourself rather spoils the magic, so I think.)