Bridget Tan, Helping Wholeheartedly

Last year, and a few times over the last number of years, I was involved in some productions that were put up in favour of foreign workers who were mistreated or abused. Alone in a foreign land, they were able to find solace through HOME (Humanitarian Organisation for Migration Economics). Its dedicated founder and advocate, came to our shows and touched us with her kindness, generosity and sincerity. That's the humble Bridget Lewis Tan. You can read what she wrote here about sex trafficking: http://www.onesingapore.org/news/stop-sex-trafficking/

I recall Bridget at one of our performances, relating how she wanted to give back to society by setting HOME up with her CPF savings and whatever little time she had left on Earth. She would take calls at any hour, caring for helpless workers, domestic helpers, foreign women trafficked for sex, and even foreign brides. Her sense of justice resonated with many Singaporeans. After all, a lot of us here cannot deny our forefathers' immigrant roots.

On 5th February, Bridget suffered a stroke. According to the news, she hasn't regained consciousness and is in Changi General Hospital. It is heartbreaking for many to hear this, including my "Rojak famiree", who put up a play at the Arts House twice last year entitled Rojak. Let us hope and pray for the best.

You can read more about HOME here: home.org.sg

(I'm not linking any news articles about her sudden stroke, because those are the first things presented when one does an online search for her. Also, her condition may change and we all hope it will, for the better.)

Post Production Blues

Theatre.

There is no way to really describe what a great theatre experience is. Words can never do it justice. When you watch a heartfelt piece that doesn't try to be smarter than you, when each character makes you fall in love with them, makes you want to help them, makes you cry and ache for them, you know they're burnt in your mind for a long time to come, and perhaps stamped in your heart for all eternity.

Now when you are one of the players, one of the actors, one of the souls whose stories have been told in that space, it's an experience like no other. Perhaps it's the nerves that tingle ever so slightly just to keep your heartbeat racing just so. Or it could be the echo of the musky floorboards that creak ever so lightly beneath the weight of your character's shifting emotions. Then again, who's to say it isn't the audience who fills the seats and adds warmth to an otherwise cold theatre. For some reason, the air conditioning is almost always near freezing and uncontrolled. Could it have a mind and personality of its own too?

Audience members who join us on our journeys each night are invited to open their hearts and souls to listen, to feel. Very often they invite us, the players, in as well. Sometimes we bash our way in without an invitation from them. This could shock, anger, surprise, sadden, or confuse them. Anything that ignites their imagination and emotions. Of course, we don't actively look for that reaction when we share our tales under the shadows and lights, since we respect our characters as real people who we would never exploit, but love and empathize with instead.

It is fluttery excitement yet relief to anticipate your first entrance, and to run up as slowly as you can for curtain call. Curtain call is when you can finally look into the audience and find familiar faces or simply appreciative smiles.

It has been one week since the show ended its run. Life, of course, goes on. But the glow you exude as a actor, even if visible only to yourself, keeps the memories bright in your mind. And like a stamp on your heart, each ventricle will never forget the intensity, meaning and moment that is theatre.

Written post Rojak, June 2013