Date: 5 Aug – 12 Sep, (Tue to Sat, 12 – 7pm)
Place: Helutrans Artspace, Tanjong Pagar Distripark (39 Keppel Road, Singapore)

The animations are part of the project Singapore Snaps, created using images from the archive of 15,239 printed photographs collected from the public and scanned from May to July 2014 in Singapore.

Open Tuesdays to Saturdays, 12 – 7pm
Closed on Sundays and Mondays

Free admission. Please register at bit.ly/1N86mEM
2pm, 4 July (Sat) at National Library Building Lvl 5.

Learn how we preserve memories through the process of digitising, and collecting stories from the photo contributors, in turn allowing our project to uncover the thread that weaves the unseen fabric of themes that hold us together, as an individual and as a unit of society.

The various facades of the studio in the 1960s and 1970s. Bottom left: Firecrackers were used to celebrate the 9th anniversary of the studio.

The busiest time every year at the studio was always immediately after the Chinese New Year celebration, when an increase in photo print requests meant working into the wee hours at the photo studio for the Keuk family. After the doors closed at 9pm, Gin Bok would enter the dark room to develop films and prints. The dark room is perpetually humid. And with chemical solutions and water running continuously, Angela worried for her father’s rheumatism. His fingers were stained brown from the chemical solutions, which are mixtures of powder formula and water of right proportions. Films and prints are meticulously soaked in these solutions, before running through with clear water.

Angela remembered him to be an extremely hardworking father, who would work long hours to provide for his family of six. Despite his busy schedule, Gin Bok insisted driving the children to their school. There were times when he was delayed in the studio, which meant teary eyes for the children who had to wait patiently at the school gates for their father to fetch them.

Kuet Gin Bok in his studio (left) and repairing a studio spot light. Top right: An old envelope for the photographs.

Views of Changi Road from the studio in the 1960s.

Flooding in the studio.

Gin Bok voluntarily took photos for the neighbours and friends, including the kacang putih seller, who sells Indian snacks typically made of nuts and spices. He was well-liked by his customers due to his photography skills and eloquence, and thus the studio was the meeting point of friends and relatives.

“Life was simpler,” said Angela of the good memories growing up at the photo studio. Floods were common and water would overflow into the shop space. The family would prop the equipment up on tables and stilts to keep them dry. Together with her elder sister and two younger brothers, she remembered each day filled with tasks with for the family business, like drying the photos in a giant air dryer and cutting the photo borders away to the correct sizes. The studio closes on Fridays.

The Kuet siblings drying the prints.

Angela says of her childhood growing up with her siblings, “We were so fortunate that my father used to take us out for activities on Fridays or school holidays. We went swimming at the Changi seaside, visited and took photos at popular sites like the Queen Elizabeth Walk, Botanic Gardens, Fort Canning Hill, National Theatre,Van Kleef Aquarium, Mount Faber and Katong Park. We also visited our maternal grandmother at her coffee shop. Sometimes after the studio closed at 9pm, we would follow my father to send some photos for framing, colouring (for the black and white photos) or to send the clients’ cameras for repair.”

Top and bottom left: Changi Beach and Golden Palace Holiday Resort (金宫水上游乐场). Right: Kallang Park

Left: Ocean Park Hotel at East Coast Road. Right: Tan Kim Seng fountain at the Esplanade Park.

Queen Elizabeth Walk

Before digital ‘photoshop’, workers used sharpened lead to edit films and touch up prints using manual techniques. There were also times when newly weds would form long queues outside the photo studio for their wedding portraits to be taken. Photographs were almost always of happy occasions.

After retiring his photo studio business in 1987, Gin Bok turned to chinese calligraphy, a form of art he had been practising in the 1980s. Impressed and awed by his beautiful calligraphy, his studio clients would ask for his work, in forms of festive couplets and even writing requests.

Kuet Gin Bok, his relatives and friend visiting the Tiger Balm Gardens in 1952.

Gin Bok passed away in May 2014. He had left behind a huge collection of diaries which he had been writing continuously over his lifetime. Writings, like photographs, are moments captured of a certain past. In a way, that moment has ‘died’ because it does not belong to the present. The act of reading, or looking at these photographs however, transports the viewer back to these times which are considered important to the writer or photographer. For a moment, albeit temporarily, the viewer re-lives in that moment and he/she gained an experience and understanding why that moment in time is so important to the writer/photographer. It might take a while for Angela before she has the courage to read and re-live those diaries her father left behind. When she did, she will realise that they are reminders of how her father talks, moves and thinks. These moments are constantly living and it is an entry to his understanding of the world.

The shop of ‘New City Photo Studio’ is currently an eatery specialising in black chicken tonic soup, owned by an old neighbour who knew the Kuet family for a long time while working nearby the shop as a stall assistant. Angela’s daughter is now a photographer, whose interest started after receiving her grandfather’s Leica camera on one of her birthdays.

2012 photo taken at the site of the former studio, showing Mr. Kuet and his wife together with the owner of the current shop.

All photo credits to Angela Kuet and Kuet Gin Bok.
Written and edited by Tan Wei Keong

If you are joining us for the launch on Wednesday, 10:30am – 12pm, do let us know so we can say hello to you!

Portrait of Madam Yap Swee Eng. Photo: Chia Bee Lian

During our conversation, Madam Chia Bee Lian described the early immigrants’ journeys in South East Asia and those who came to settle in Singapore. It was a tumultuous time when there were bandits sailing in the South China Sea. Her grandmother was originally from China, and was brought to Pontianak, Indonesia where she met with other Hakka Chinese who worked as tin miners in the settlement. As they set off to Singapore shores, they swore that they would take care of each other like brothers and sisters in their new home.

Madam Chia penned these words as she discussed her family history with her relatives:

“My mother’s grandfather, Tan Pao owned a timber business that extended to the region, including Pontianak. My 3rd maternal grandaunt lived in Pontianak with her husband who ran a bicycle business. She came to know my grandma, Madam Yap Swee Eng, who lives close by with her family. She took a liking to my Grandma and decided to make a match for her brother, Mr Tan Soon Loh, who later became my grandpa. I think it’s a love match.”

As we look at the weathered black-and-white photo, it was a moment frozen in time. Madam Chia imagines that it was around the 1920s that her grandmother was wedded. As a bride, she is dressed in wedding finery adorned with an elaborate headpiece. The groom is dressed in formal western suit, with a top hat, reflecting the interest in Western culture that was all the rage. Two flower girls, with delicate patterns woven into their dresses, flank them. The wedding couple stands, arms linked in front of the ancestor hall, the stone floors beneath them are still visible in the fading photo.

Written by Gracie Teo
Edited by Tan Wei Keong

Photo credit: Jasmine Tan

Aside from the slow boat ride entering the Dragon’s Mouth through a 60-metre long trail to visit the dioramas of the “Ten Courts of Hell”, there was also a rollercoaster-flume ride that could possibly be the most adrenaline-pumping ride of that time. Visitors would sit in a flume that meanders past “mountains” and through “rivers”, climaxing at a huge drop at the end where the flume finally splashes into a pool of water. What’s also unforgettable is the amphitheater which hosts regular performances of mystical Chinese legends adapted into English. “The play was about mother-earth and her children of the different elements. They tried to find harmony with each other for peace in the universe,” the four-year-old me noted in my journal. I could still remember running down the theatre stairs, trying to steal a touch of the performers’ costume.

Photo credit: Rohani Bte Din

Still vivid in my mind was also the long queue for visitors to have their photographs taken dressed in fancy ancient Chinese costumes. I pestered my mother to let me have a photo taken in a princess costume. My frugal mother found two-dollars too costly during that time, and a staged photograph was too impractical for keep-sake. “It would be better if we took the photographs ourselves,” she responded. I agreed and left Haw Par Villa more than satisfied. Who knew more than twenty-four years later, my mother’s words proved right! As we took out photographs from my family photo album for Singapore Snaps, wonderful memories of my childhood came pouring back.

Photo credit: Wong Meng

Like a wild card, the Singapore Snaps team had found hundreds of photographs that other families took at Haw Par Villa over the years. Seeing how this collection of photographs document and depict the park through time, these photographs are definitely one of the best tokens from the theme park in its heyday.

Photo credit: Tharani S

Though its dioramas portray mainly Chinese legends and folklore relating to Confucian values, Singaporeans from different heritages visited Haw Par Villa. It was a place for families and friends to gather and spend quality time with each other. There is no doubt Haw Par Villa captured our imaginations, and is a surrealistic yet fantastical escape from the city life.

Photo credit: Adrian Phoon

Despite all the past celebratory moments Singaporeans had partaken at Haw Par Villa, this iconic attraction today, has been forgotten and even misunderstood. “Haw Par Villa, Singapore: the theme park made in hell” titles an article on “The Guardian”, a British newspaper. It highlights the bizarre and gruesomeness of the subjects depicted by the dioramas. A lot of which, are taken out of context. In reference to the sculpture where a young lady is breast-feeding an elderly, through unknowing eyes it might look shockingly pornographic. But what was meant to be conveyed through this act is filial piety. In medicine scarcity situations, breast milk has nutrients which strengthen the immune system, and for the young to provide this to the elderly is a commendable act of filial piety. Of course, filial piety means different matters in this day and age, and between the Eastern and Western cultures. But what needs to be highlighted is that these images sit in large and complex discourse of Chinese, or even more specifically diasporic Chinese, beliefs. Beyond being artefacts to gawk at, Haw Par Villa is an expression of a desire to impart values.

Photo credit: Stephanie Chan

In the personal histories of its creators Aw Boon Haw and Aw Boon Par, Haw Par Villa is also a manifestation of love and brotherhood. It is apt that the park’s program is currently under the custody of Latent Spaces, a contemporary art group fronted by twin brothers, Chun Kai Qun and Chun Kai Feng. Can Haw Par Villa continue to give new meaning to Singaporeans and its visitors beyond its histories? Rejuvenating it as another theme park will seem challenging, Art will perhaps be its future.

Written by Samantha Tio
Edited by Tan Wei Keong

“Yes? What is the matter?” she asked.

We went through the usual drill of introducing the Singapore Snaps Project to her and explained our intentions of collecting old photographs from the public to provide them with free digital copies. At that time, I was with a student volunteer going door-to-door on a photo-collection drive in Toa Payoh, the first neighbourhood to kick-off our art and community program.

“You’ll get all your photographs back with a DVD of its digital copies within 1 week at your doorstep,” my student partner chirped.

The lady warmed up to our presence and emerged more confidently from behind her door.

“But I don’t have any old photographs. My parents didn’t take any for me. They never cared,” she said with a straightforward tone. But in her eyes was a tinge of sadness.

Both of us were suddenly thrown off-guard by a gush of empathy. For a short while we did not know what to say. We learned that her name is “Serene” and we explained to her that if she is visiting the neighbourhood library where our booth was based, it would be nice to be able to chat again.

Serene thanked us courteously before she closed her door.

Days later, Serene paid a surprise visit to us at our booth. She brought with her an envelope which she held endearingly close to her chest. Sitting together with her on our seventies-fashioned sofa, she revealed three black-and-white photographs and three large colour photographs from the envelope. The black-and-white photographs were of her as a child with her mother, looking very blissful. The large colour photographs were taken in a studio, of Serene in her convocation gown clutching a certificate and looking accomplished.

Photo credit: Jasmine Chan

“These are the only photographs, I have (of myself) when I was young… I worked very hard to study and get to where I am now, so that I can live independently and prove myself,” she told us.

Even though we set a minimum of twenty photographs for a contribution (any lesser will be a toil on the logistics), we accepted her photographs with appreciation. Serene’s sincerity in supporting our project has certainly moved us. Her situation also made us think about the individuals who never had the luxury of photographs to document their personal histories.

As we met more residents, it turned out that Serene’s story was not a remote one. Another resident had explained to us how he never had any photographs because his family could not afford a camera. There was also an individual, who told us how he had lost his entire life of photographs because an ex-fiance had burnt all of them in a fit of anger. Having those photographs of their lives documented, would mean everything to these people.

Yet, an absence is a presence of meaning – that absence of photographs is also a reflection of one’s personal history.

Photo credit: Pearl Pang

On the other side of the coin, we met many generous contributors with cupboards full of photographs waiting to be digitised. We recalled a contributor handing us a huge luggage worth of her family’s old photographs. We explained to her upfront that there was a limit to what we could accept, but she insisted that we take everything. I still can recall sitting alone in the cold activity room in the top floor of a library, browsing through multiple stacks of photographs from that particular family. Their personal memories whizzed through my head visually. For three hours I went through their photographs, album by album, selecting images that would be valuable to them and the project. While I am certain that these memories are precious to the family, there was also an underlying sense of insignificance of these printed photographs – like clutter to be cleared.

Whilst some residents whom we met at their homes, readily lent us their photographs for the project, there were others who found their personal memories too precious to be placed in the hands of a stranger. Both ways, we understand and respect their choices. After all, photographs mean different things and have different values to everyone.

Written by Samantha Tio
Edited by Tan Wei Keong

The Singapore Snaps team were delighted to welcome the photography club students of Fairfield Methodist Secondary School to join us for 3 sessions of their photography club program with the initiation of their insightful teacher-in-charge, Mr Larry Loh.

Kicking off the program in the first week, participating students started off getting to know a little more about the value of old photographs and how to handle them with care. The project orientation session with the students on was held in the cozy activity room at Geylang East Library. The students’ knowledge on photography was wide, but it was one of the first time they had come into close contact with photographs created from the analog era. Some students had even brought their personal family photographs from home to share with the group.

Following which, we accompanied the students straight into the neighbouring blocks across the road from the library to begin the door-to-door photo collection. For many of the students it was their first time in a door-to-door community involvement program like this, but all of them certainly had the courage and tenacity. Most of them started out shy whilst a number of the students were very forth coming with introducing the project to the residents.

Gracie, Outreach Officer for Singapore Snaps with two students from FMSS Photography Club on our first day.

On the second session, the students continued going door-to-door speaking to the community. From the feedback session that we had with the students, disappointment from being unable to receive a single photograph from any resident was common:

“I felt pretty disappointed as we did not have a single contribution and most of the neighbours turned us down. (On what can be improved) Our communication skills. We need to improve on our mandarin (our mother tongue) and other dialects” – Hagen Li

The students recognised the value of being multilingual so they can communicate with more people in Singapore because of the diverse cultures here. Comfortable with a single language used amongst their families and friends, the students quickly realised the value of dialects in understanding people from the earlier generations.

But some of the students took the rejection in a very positive light. C.S Chan a student wrote:

“Through the collection of old photos and speaking to strangers publicly, I realised that photos are more than just memories. They are precious milestones (of individuals) in their golden years. Many were reluctant to offer (their photographs)… Perhaps that is how priceless the photos are to them.”

Chan also drew the connection between photography and biography in his reflection.

“One’s photography is another’s biography.”

Audrey, another student from the photography club gave us new insight to our project:

“I learned that stories are meant to be shared and the power of voicing our inner thoughts… This experience allowed me to treasure the community even more especially when there are so many stories waiting to be shared by them! Their fascinating stories bring Singapore’s past alive, so that us, the next generation could appreciate its beauty and see through its growth.”

One of the written reflections from the students of the FMSS Photography Club.

We were extremely heartened to receive handwritten reflections like these from the students. They were very honest and we were glad that this community involvement from the students were beyond simply achieving the project’s goals. The students took home with them new insights about the local community, and of themselves. The younger generation’s interest and participation are necessary and important for us because the observation and writing of history is a continuous task for us to gain insight of the present.

Singapore Snaps would like to thank the students of the Photography Club from Fairfield Methodist Secondary School and teacher-in-charge Mr Larry Loh. They had travelled far to join us and we have learned as much from them as they had during their journey with us.

All photo credits in this post are Chan Wen, Hagen Li and Larry Loh.

Written and edited by Samantha Tio

Departures

It is time to leave now. Bags are packed, passport checked, and a jacket slung over your shoulder for the flight. Around you are familiar sensations – the feeling of the ground beneath your feet, the smell of home and the touch of the people whom you love. All of which you are about to leave behind.

Under the fluttering sounds of the giant split-flap display central at the departure hall, you look up at the rows with names of distant cities. These names are vague in your memory, as places that you may have recognised are from the news, or off pages of a geography textbook. Today, these cities become closer to you as destinations of people who will take off from the same runway. You spot your destination and your flight, feeling both nervous and delighted. In one column are the hypnotic glow of green bulbs to accompany the words “LAST CALL” and “GATE CLOSING”, luring and inviting plans for the next journey. You have the world in front of you, limitless in possibilities and with open skies.

The word “leaving” is so bittersweet. It signifies a new beginning, a fresh start and a departure from the old and familiar. It precedes an arrival to another land and another life that awaits. At Changi Airport, the passenger movement ebbs and flows. The airport is a place of transience. But the meaning of transience takes on a different dimension in an airport like Changi. From the day the first flight lifted its wings from the runway, Changi has never been the same.

Photo credit: Singapore Snaps

Changi has always been bound for the future. With every visit, Changi would have departed from the old to embrace the new. In every century of its existence, the airport starts afresh with new coats of paint, new slabs of concrete, new facilities and attractions. Still fresh in our memories is the marvellous water fountain in Terminal 1, streaming threads of water encrusted with gold light. From the ceiling, the falling water looked as though it was floating upwards. This fountain, for many passengers about to take flight, delivered elegantly a poetic revelation. Today, a mechanical counterpart has replaced this work of art. The “Kinetic Rain”, a new art installation with golden “raindrops” rises and falls to mesmeric rhythms. They synchronise to create elegant forms that amuse and wonder. There are times when one can get lost in the dance of these “raindrops”. But with the sight of the steel wires, one is reminded how the “raindrops” are merely puppets to a simulacra of nature.

Arrivals

Charged with new experiences and stories of adventure, you have finally returned. We have heard of your new friends, the new flavours that you have tasted and the new language that you speak. But most endearingly how you have missed everyone here. The automatic sliding glass opens as you wheel your baggage through the exit gate. The thick humidity of the Singapore tropics hits you like a warm blanket. Welcome home.

From being an alien and an outsider, you are back alas, as son-daughter of this country. At Changi airport, families and loved ones reunite. Travellers once in transience are grounded again. You return to cherished memories – of how our parents brought us for a treat at the Swensens Restaurant during a weekend, how we used to mug for our ‘O’ Levels together watching planes take off from the runway.

Photo credit: Seow Shin Horng

Do you remember the first time we flew together, how I held on tightly to your hands as we took off? From the humble background that we were from, I had never dreamt of the day that we might fly. Given these wings of steel, our bloods curl and freeze when we hear of angels shot down from the sky.

Photo credit: Sisilia Tan

Same-same but different. Year after year, you have been at the top. You are amongst the best in the world and bearing the load of an ever-growing volume of passengers. “Super connectivity”, they call it. Unavoidably, to accommodate millions of passenger coming by, expansion is the way to go. From a very utilitarian Terminal 1 completed in 1981, followed by a regale Terminal 2 in 1989 and finally a state-of-art Terminal 3 in 2006. Have we arrived? The Budget Terminal has made way for Terminal 4, “Project Jewel” – a complex to connect all terminals is in its conception. Blueprints for Terminal 5 is already on its the way.

Memories

Time and again you left and you returned. We will remember every one of those moments here at Changi Airport before and after your flight. Perhaps not with our conscious attention, constantly shortened by this quickening pace of life, but with photographs that extend through time, devoted to keeping our memories alive.

Photo credit: Sisilia Tan

Wherever our ultimate destination may be, these memories will help us to begin all over again.

Written by Samantha Tio
Edited by Tan Wei Keong