What lockdown life is like for Singapore poet Alfian Sa’at and Malaysia performer Sean Ghazi
- Ken Kwek hosts a Q&A session with the resident playwright of theatre company Wild Rice and artistic director of live entertainment venue Bobo KL
- In which he discovers more on the creative industry’s struggles in the time of coronavirus, and what the pandemic might mean for its future
Alfian Sa’at is a poet, essayist and resident playwright of theatre company Wild Rice. One of Singapore’s most acclaimed and prolific artists, his works include the poetry collection One Fierce Hour and the plays Cooling Off Day, Hotel and Tiger of Malaya. Interview by Ken Kwek.
How have you spent your days in lockdown? Has it been a difficult or frustrating experience?
Sean Ghazi: The days seem to be blending into one another. My days seem to consist of pet care and the planning of future shows – all of which are accompanied by question marks. Then there are meals and a bit of exercise, or rather the idea of exercise followed by ‘tomorrow lah’. I have been experimenting with cooking and baking. For my birthday two weeks ago, I had a Zoom celebration with my brothers’ families in KL and Singapore. We all baked separate cakes and I watched my five nieces blow out candles for me on a screen. It was bittersweet, but that’s how things are at the moment. I’m thankful for today’s technology.
Alfian Sa’at: As a writer, I’m quite used to working from home. The difference now is that staying at home is mandated, so what used to be a matter of choice now feels coercive. With the lockdown, the police state is made manifest, with enforcers patrolling public spaces and issuing S$300 (US$210) fines for violations. I’ve been doing a lot of reading and actually watching a lot of plays which have been released online. I’m very thankful that some theatres in Germany have released recordings of their plays, many of them with English subtitles. These are plays that I would not have otherwise been able to watch because it’s much more difficult for plays to tour, compared to films. There’s an interesting tension as the world goes into lockdown – in our respective isolation some of us find ourselves making connections with distant cultures. Remote intimacies are possible. As for my own writing, there’s an uncertainty that hovers over the page. I find that deadlines become this fluid thing. The word ‘indefinite’ haunts our days. I write not knowing whether we’ll return to normalcy by the end of the year, and the writing becomes this act of hope.
