Li Mao-shan and Lin Shu-jung
Singapore Expo's Max Pavilion/Last Saturday
Time travel does exist.
And last Saturday night, 6,500 people were transported back to the 1980s.
Taiwanese crooners Li Mao-shan, 48, and Lin Shu-jung, 47, turned back the clock with songs from yesteryear complete with vintage musical arrangements, bubble machines and dancers twirling giant feathered fans and prop umbrellas.
The best part: There was not a hint of irony in sight.
The 21/2-hour concert was not about updating past successes. Instead, it was an unabashed and unreserved recreating of a bygone era.
Li took to the stage first in an all-white suit and delivered ballads such as My Eyes Are Raining and I Have A Love.
While he has a pleasant baritone, the eyes-closed, brows-furrowed, fist-clenched style of over-emotive singing of angsty lyrics grew old after a while.
But clearly, it held some appeal for the crowd, mainly in their 40s and older.
It helped that Li had a somewhat cheeky stage persona and he spoke in both Mandarin and Hokkien, cracking self-deprecating jokes.
After an hour, he yielded the stage to Lin, who emerged in a sequinned gold number. Having been away from showbiz for over 10 years, she admitted that she was nervous and excited and had not been sleeping well.
This explained the slightly hoarse voice and the fact that she seemed out of breath when chatting between songs. Still, she was in fine form otherwise.
She performed several upbeat tracks such as Anna and Qiao Qiao Men (Knock Knock), which were a welcome change of pace. She also took on the late Anita Mui's melancholic Woman Flower.
The evening ended with both Li and Lin on stage, bantering lightly and flirting coyly to the amusement of their fans.
Announced by Li as 'the greatest song of the 20th century', the pair proceeded to deliver Wu Yan De Jie Ju (Silent Ending), the monster hit duet that remains a karaoke favourite to this day.
For their encore, the duo performed the classics The Moon Represents My Heart, Applause Swells Up and the Hokkien anthem To Win You Must Fight, and got their fans to wave their hands in the air and sing along spiritedly.
And then it was time to head back - to the future.
(ST)
Tuesday, June 03, 2008
Angela's Live @ Singapore 2008
Singapore Expo Hall 5/Sunday
Only connect. This was British writer E. M. Forster's exhortation in the novel Howards End, and this is what the best singers do on stage.
They forge a rapport with the audience and deliver an intimate experience, even with a crowd of thousands. Sadly, there was no such connection at Taiwanese singer-actress Angela Chang's two-hour show.
Yes, the pint-sized, big-voiced lass could sing, but for the most part, the performance by the 26-year-old to a house 85 per cent full seemed rather perfunctory.
A pity really, since this was her first concert after being reportedly diagnosed with a heart condition called mitral valve prolapse.
Chang was forced to postpone the Singapore leg of her regional tour from March 29 to June 1 and spent over two months away from the entertainment scene.
She choked up as she revealed: 'The past few months have been the worst time of my life.' She thanked her family, friends and fans for their care and concern, but did not divulge more about her illness.
Perhaps for this reason though, the show was shorter than usual since most Chinese pop concerts tend to hit the three-hour mark.
And for much of the night, most of the audience members remained seated and fairly sedate, even as her die-hard fans cheered every song.
The singer had a little help from label-mates Fan Wei-chi and Claire Kuo Jing, who turned up as guest stars.
Otherwise, there was little sign of her affliction and Chang even pulled off a dance routine for Protective Colour.
'I remember my first concert when I couldn't finish the dance number. But I managed to complete it today and I'm very happy,' she said.
Still, she seemed more at ease with power ballads such as Don't Want To Understand. But she had the annoying habit of simply letting the crowd of more than 4,000 take over for large chunks of the song.
Ultimately, on stage, Chang had neither the polished showmanship of an assured performer such as Jacky Cheung nor the earnest charms of a singer-songwriter such as Cheer Chen.
It was telling that she got the audience up on their feet only during the final song Aurora.
By then, it was a case of too little, too late.
(ST)
Singapore Expo Hall 5/Sunday
Only connect. This was British writer E. M. Forster's exhortation in the novel Howards End, and this is what the best singers do on stage.
They forge a rapport with the audience and deliver an intimate experience, even with a crowd of thousands. Sadly, there was no such connection at Taiwanese singer-actress Angela Chang's two-hour show.
Yes, the pint-sized, big-voiced lass could sing, but for the most part, the performance by the 26-year-old to a house 85 per cent full seemed rather perfunctory.
A pity really, since this was her first concert after being reportedly diagnosed with a heart condition called mitral valve prolapse.
Chang was forced to postpone the Singapore leg of her regional tour from March 29 to June 1 and spent over two months away from the entertainment scene.
She choked up as she revealed: 'The past few months have been the worst time of my life.' She thanked her family, friends and fans for their care and concern, but did not divulge more about her illness.
Perhaps for this reason though, the show was shorter than usual since most Chinese pop concerts tend to hit the three-hour mark.
And for much of the night, most of the audience members remained seated and fairly sedate, even as her die-hard fans cheered every song.
The singer had a little help from label-mates Fan Wei-chi and Claire Kuo Jing, who turned up as guest stars.
Otherwise, there was little sign of her affliction and Chang even pulled off a dance routine for Protective Colour.
'I remember my first concert when I couldn't finish the dance number. But I managed to complete it today and I'm very happy,' she said.
Still, she seemed more at ease with power ballads such as Don't Want To Understand. But she had the annoying habit of simply letting the crowd of more than 4,000 take over for large chunks of the song.
Ultimately, on stage, Chang had neither the polished showmanship of an assured performer such as Jacky Cheung nor the earnest charms of a singer-songwriter such as Cheer Chen.
It was telling that she got the audience up on their feet only during the final song Aurora.
By then, it was a case of too little, too late.
(ST)
Sunday, June 01, 2008
Wolf Totem
Jiang Rong
Nature, red in tooth and claw.
Rarely has poet Alfred Tennyson's oft-quoted line of verse been depicted with such visceral vividness.
The reader is quickly plunged into the thick of the action with gripping descriptions of calculated attacks by packs of ravenous wolves on hapless gazelles and horses as well as the battle of wits between wolf and man.
This is, on the most accessible level, an old-fashioned adventure story, pulsing with the rhythm of life on the beautiful but harsh Mongolian grassland.
Wolf Totem was a publishing phenomenon when it was released in China in 2004, with over 50,000 copies sold in two weeks. It has also garnered various accolades, including the inaugural Man Asian Literary Prize (2007). It is based on the experiences of Lu Jiamin, who was sent to rural Inner Mongolia in 1967 at the height of the Cultural Revolution in China. Jiang Rong is his pseudonym.
In the book, young man Chen Zhen, who leaves Beijing to work as a shepherd on the Olonbulag grassland, is Lu's alter ego. He develops a fascination with the customs of the nomads and, in particular, with their sacred wolf totem.
Wolves hunt sheep and horses but they are not a scourge to be wiped out as they are part of the intrinsic balance which ensures the grassland's survival. Lu even makes a compelling case for the lupine art of war which, in turn, honed the Mongols into awe-inspiring warriors who carved out the largest contiguous empire in world history.
But the fearsome and intelligent wolves are no match for greed and rifles.
When the Han Chinese sweep in with their sedentary farming lifestyle and weapons, the equation is upset and the price of so-called progress is the destruction of the grassland and of nomadic culture.
Man once again proves himself to be the most dangerous animal.
If you like this, read: My Family And Other Animals by Gerald Durrell
For animal lovers seeking a totally different reading experience, curl up with this uproariously funny and warm-hearted account of the author's life on the Greek island of Corfu in the 1930s.
(ST)
Jiang Rong
Nature, red in tooth and claw.
Rarely has poet Alfred Tennyson's oft-quoted line of verse been depicted with such visceral vividness.
The reader is quickly plunged into the thick of the action with gripping descriptions of calculated attacks by packs of ravenous wolves on hapless gazelles and horses as well as the battle of wits between wolf and man.
This is, on the most accessible level, an old-fashioned adventure story, pulsing with the rhythm of life on the beautiful but harsh Mongolian grassland.
Wolf Totem was a publishing phenomenon when it was released in China in 2004, with over 50,000 copies sold in two weeks. It has also garnered various accolades, including the inaugural Man Asian Literary Prize (2007). It is based on the experiences of Lu Jiamin, who was sent to rural Inner Mongolia in 1967 at the height of the Cultural Revolution in China. Jiang Rong is his pseudonym.
In the book, young man Chen Zhen, who leaves Beijing to work as a shepherd on the Olonbulag grassland, is Lu's alter ego. He develops a fascination with the customs of the nomads and, in particular, with their sacred wolf totem.
Wolves hunt sheep and horses but they are not a scourge to be wiped out as they are part of the intrinsic balance which ensures the grassland's survival. Lu even makes a compelling case for the lupine art of war which, in turn, honed the Mongols into awe-inspiring warriors who carved out the largest contiguous empire in world history.
But the fearsome and intelligent wolves are no match for greed and rifles.
When the Han Chinese sweep in with their sedentary farming lifestyle and weapons, the equation is upset and the price of so-called progress is the destruction of the grassland and of nomadic culture.
Man once again proves himself to be the most dangerous animal.
If you like this, read: My Family And Other Animals by Gerald Durrell
For animal lovers seeking a totally different reading experience, curl up with this uproariously funny and warm-hearted account of the author's life on the Greek island of Corfu in the 1930s.
(ST)
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