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

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

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

Top picture: Mdm Saraswathi with her first child, standing outside her block at the residential wing of the Seletar Camp. Photo Credit: Saraswathi

Mdm Saraswathi with a stack of old photographs of Seletar Camp in her hands. Photo credit: SG Snaps

As a clerk to the Singapore Armed Forces, Mdm Saraswathi had lived in residential quarters at the military facility together with her family. She shared with us her family’s long history there, since the camp’s former days of being the largest British Royal Air Force base in the Far East. Built by the British in the 1920s, the camp became operational in 1928 and had housed staffs to the British Airforce. Aside from the British, the Malay and Indian community had made up majority of the staff. Her father, who was an Indian migrant, had worked for the British as a labourer, and her uncle as a supervisor.

A photograph of Mdm Saraswathi, her husband, first son and her two brothers in her husband’s quarters. Photo credit: Saraswathi

The living quarters were located at the east side of the camp. Mdm Saraswathi described two different layouts of the quarters. Her husband was also a staff who lived in the bigger quarters, while she had grown up in the smaller one with her family – A three-room apartment consisting one hall, bedroom and kitchen. There were six apartments in a block, with toilets and water taps shared between all the families living there. She remembered how she needed to take her laundry and plates out to the public tap for cleaning. On the other hand, her husband’s house, where she had moved to after their wedding, had a private toilet, but the rent was higher.

“The rent for the three-room quarters (back then) was only $12 per month. For the bigger one, it was $20,” said Mdm Saraswathi.

In a photo taken right in front of the guardroom of the residential quarters, Mdm Saraswathi recounts how tightly guarded the facility was. Any of her relatives visiting the camp were required to report to the guard house, where she would have to produce her official pass in order to allow them onto premise. Public access into the camp was highly restricted, and any outsiders entering or leaving the camp were duly noted by the guards.

During Christmas, the British would hold celebrations for the military staff. Families would go to the clubhouse carrying coupons previously handed out to them, to collect goodie boxes filled with cakes and ice-creams for every member of each household. The clubhouse was also a place where families held meetings, as well as movie screenings hosted for the families.

“We would bring out big mats to lay on the grass and watch the movies for free from the big screen,” she quipped.

Bride & Groom – A photograph of Mdm Saraswathi’s wedding held at a tent pitched on a field in Seletar Camp. Photo credit: Saraswathi

Amongst the photographs that Mdm Saraswathi had showed us, there were some of her wedding ceremony. Contrary to the rich and colourful festivities that typically surround an Indian wedding, Mdm Saraswathi’s wedding was very modest. Instead of a temple with a priest, her wedding was celebrated in a tent at the Seletar Camp, specially erected for this joyous occasion near her husband’s living quarters.

“(During the ceremony) we had followed our book, the tiripura, a book written by a sage to convey the knowledge. And somebody had read from that book. That was how we got married.”

Mdm Saraswathi’s brother on the eve of Thaipusam, preparing to carry the kavadi (behind them) for the ceremony the next morning. Photo credit: Saraswathi

Another eventful recollection she had at the camp was the preparation for her brother to carry the kavadi for Thaipusam, a Hindu celebration in honour of Lord Subramaniam. In the photo was her husband, uncle and brother on the eves of Thaipusam in their home, getting ready for the journey the next morning.

During the Thaipusam procession where Hindu devotees carry the kavadi. Photo credit: Saraswathi

When asked whether carrying the kavadi would be painful, she chuckled as she replied, “Actually, it would be, if you hadn’t followed the preparations properly. (The devotees carrying the kavadi) would fast for one week. You can take food only once a day in the evenings after your prayers.” The fasting devotees would be allowed to drink. But milk, she told us, is restricted because it is meant to be an offering to the God.

Wei Keong and Mdm Saraswathi outside her flat in Toa Payoh. Photo credit: SG Snaps

After our pleasant afternoon with Mdm Saraswathi, listening to her time-transporting stories of Seletar Camp, we thanked her for her time and exited her flat to the scenery of Toa Payoh today. The home in the black and white photographs of hers is so different from her current home. The times that we see in a single lifetime in Singapore has definitely changed, and we continue to wonder how the lives of people living here has changed too.

Written by Samantha Tio
Edited by Tan Wei Keong

Close to 6 years ago, Wei Keong’s mother had passed away of ovarian cancer and related complications. I remember the time when we were still in university, Wei Keong once told me over recess that his mother was battling the disease, and she was in the final stages of her life. Though I definitely knew that it was a very difficult time for him and his family, Wei Keong never looked the least battered. He is a fighter in my eyes, with a perpetual sunshine shining from a darkened heart. In front of his mother’s plaque we sat, looking through two old photo albums which he had brought along with him. In it were images of his mum in her youth, taken during outings with her friends, as well as couple portraits of her with Wei Keong’s father.

“I really like this photo, they look very happy,” said Wei Keong while looking at the photo of his parents on a holiday. Photo: Tan Wei Keong

He talked about how the albums are emblems of life – his mother’s devoted life for him and his two siblings, who would take them out from the drawers occasionally. Looking at the photographs would make them feel nostalgic.

Wei Keong inherited his mother’s smile. Here, she is posing with a friend for a photo by the sundial at the Botanical Gardens. Photo: Tan Wei Keong

Wei Keong always felt that his mother from the old photographs is different from the one who brought him up. “It (The old photographs) creates a very different impression (of her) from the time she was bringing me up, and when she taught me things. I see a very different personality (in her),” said Wei Keong. He explained that his mother looked a lot stronger, and with ambition in the photographs, just like the way he feels he is now.

“Just seeing the pictures, she looked like she was ready to take on the world and accomplish a lot of things in the future,” he said.

By the fountain at the Botanical Gardens – a rare stand-alone portrait of Wei Keong’s mother.

On the topic of expressing love, Wei Keong shared with me how he learned that it is important not to restrain those feelings, unlike the distant propriety he feels in a traditional Chinese family. “What I learned, when taking care of my mother when she was sick, and after she had passed away, was to say things which are on your mind right there and then, be it ‘Thank you’ or ‘I love you’. I don’t believe in forever. Tomorrow might never come.”

Of all mother’s day presents, Wei Keong remembers a purposeful trip to the market after school when he was seven. He pointed to a single red rose at a makeshift flower stall and bought it home. “My mother was doing the family’s laundry in the toilet, scrubbing shirts against a washing board. I stood outside the toilet, rose in hand, and stretched it out to her,” Wei Keong recalled. His mother is pleasantly surprised. She came out from the toilet, and wiped off the suds from her shrivelled hands on her baggy shirt, before taking the red rose. “I don’t remember her saying anything. But the rose stayed for a long time on the refrigerator, and she told a lot of people about the rose.”

As the sun was setting, Wei Keong and I took our leave from the columbarium. We walked pensively for a long time, from the columbarium down the expressway under the roar of the traffic. Continuing our conversation on the photographs, he confessed that he seemed to only learn more about his mother after her death. It was from these photographs that painted a complete image of her from a time before his birth. Now, these images continue to resonate in his life beyond hers.

Wei Keong. Photo: SG Snaps

Can photographs be a meeting point for two people who will never see each other again to continue to love each other? Remembering the gaze in Wei Keong’s eyes when he was looking at the photographs of his mother, I certainly think so.

Written by Samantha Tio

SG Snaps team cannot be more grateful to all the students and individuals who have stepped forward to discover Singapore’s hidden historical tokens of photographs and personal narratives together with us.

Today, we would like to celebrate and congratulate two outstanding volunteers, Joshua Cheng and Ong Zhi Hong from Hwa Chong Institution, who made our collection drive a blast! Joshua and Zhi Hong, together with volunteers from other schools, had joined us at the various neighbourhoods to collect old photographs from the residents during their school break in June.

Here are what Joshua Cheng and Ong Zhi Hong have to say about their experiences:

Joshua Cheng

Relaxing at the Bukit Merah Library after a day of going door-to-door. Volunteers from the right – Cassia, Joshua, Charlton, Xin Ru & Gracie, our SG Snaps Team Member. Photo: SG Snaps

“Participating in this Singapore Snaps’ photo collection drive has been very enriching. During the June holidays, when my classmates were either playing games or studying, I am happy to be able to spend my time doing something meaningful by revisiting Singapore’s roots and learning about the past.

Being in one of Singapore oldest neighborhoods at Redhill and visiting the homes of the people living there has really helped me to appreciate how far Singapore has come in the last 50 years. Originally, I was a bit hesitant to go door-to-door to introduce the project and ask for old photo contributions. I am not an outgoing person by nature and had never done anything like this before. However, after the first few tries, it started to get better. Even though my volunteer partner and I met with rejections the first few times we approached a household, it was still very engaging to meet people of different characters living in Redhill.

The first time I had received a contribution was from an old Chinese lady living in one of the older blocks. Even though she had only contributed a few photos, there was a sense of accomplishment and achievement, especially since it was my first time  going house-to-house to ask for contributions. Most of the photos she contributed were photos taken in studios. It was very fascinating to see the different designs and decorations that studios added to frame the photos.”

Joshua helping Mdm Lim tag her photos at her home in Redhill. Photo: SG Snaps

“One of the most memorable moments that I had was when returning the contribution from a lady. She ran a drinks store in the nearby market and it was very interesting to listen to all her stories which are not just about her pictures, but also about her life experiences in general. I was glad that she was willing to take the time to share all her stories. ”

Volunteers Joshua (right standing) and Cassia (left standing) sharing stories with Mdm Lim (seated right) and family. Photo: SG Snaps

“These experiences from the Singapore Snaps photo-collection drive have really enriched my life and piqued my interest in learning more about Singapore’s heritage. I hope that I would be able to participate in similar activities in the future.”

Ong Zhi Hong

Zhi Hong with Mdm Lim Mui Tiang talking about the stories behind her photographs. Photo: SG Snaps

“While volunteering at Singapore Snaps, there was one memorable contributor that I had encountered. She was an old lady who has a brother involved in politics during the 60s-70s. She mentioned how her brother in the 1960s was from the same school I am in, Hwa Chong Institution. Her brother’s life story was really intriguing. It allowed me to view Singapore’s history from a different point of view, from outside of the textbook to understand and learn a more complete version of Singapore’s history.

Often I get rejected by residents who do not wish to share. Whenever I receive a contribution, there is a sense of accomplishment and it keeps me going on and stay hopeful to find more willing contributors. The interaction with people of different backgrounds have also enabled me to step out of my comfort zone.

No hard feelings – volunteers (from front), Hairul, Sean & Zhi Hong turn around after being rejected by a resident. Photo: SG Snaps

“I have learnt that memories may remain with us forever and photographs are important ways to keep those memories. Most of the times contributors would show us photographs of themselves when they were young. Photographs of outings with their family at places like Haw Par Villa are very common in the past. They get really happy talking about their childhood and it really made me realise how different their lives are then from ours now.”

A photograph together for keepsake! Commemorating our first day of collection with the volunteers. From right – Wei Keong, Alfred, Zhi Hong, Choon Pin, Samantha & Gracie. Photo: SG Snaps

“Today digital photographs are abundant unlike the analog ones in the past. It was just two decades ago that photographs are so precious and rare, that they are taken only on special occasions unlike now when people will take photos all the time. This fact serves as a reminder for me to constantly use the camera’s function to document my own life. I learnt that back in the old days, the less fortunate did not have the chance at photography. Now that I am given the chance to take photos so freely, I should not miss this opportunity and regret it later when looking back!”

Compiled by Samantha Tio

On day two at our booth, Uncle Sunny, 64, brought two very special albums containing greetings cards that he fatefully gave to his wife, Jessie, 60, every year for her birthdays and for their anniversaries. The giving is a mutual affair and Uncle Sunny stressed to me the importance of giving credit to this wife in this exchange.

The couple have been married for 37 years and as the years passed, Uncle Sunny’s gesture of romance never waived one bit. People express their love in many different ways and taking photographs of loved ones is just one form of expression. Uncle Sunny’s commitment in giving his wife greeting cards is another. “This is how I can be remembered by,” Uncle Sunny told me. It made me think about what we leave behind and how we remember precious moments.

Writen by Samantha

Credits to Uncle Sunny of Toa Payoh Public Library

Mr Teo had specially requested to meet at the Marine Terrance neighborhood in order to take Gracie back to the place where the Teo family had lived in the early years. The place was very scenic, with crisp honey-comb sunlight streaming between the laundry on bamboo poles that the resident hung out for drying, children playing deliriously at the playground and cats lying lazily at the void deck. The briny and constant ocean breeze from the East Coast passed gently through the neighborhood, sending cooling relief from the afternoon heat.

Gracie had brought two albums from her home, both neatly organised by her father who is now a retired teacher. The first album opened up photographs of young Mr & Mrs Teo. There were immaculate studio portraits of Mrs Teo as a child, together with her mother and sister. They were placed side-by-side with the headshots of Mr Teo in his youth. These were the times before the couple had met.

Credits to Gracie Teo

A “meeting of minds” was how Mr Teo remembered the spark of romance he had with Mrs Teo on their first encounter at a hospital where Mr Teo was having an operation. Mrs Teo was the nurse who attended to him. Their relationship blossomed and they got married in 1973.

“More than 40 years ago,” Mr Teo reminisced.

Credits to Gracie Teo

The customary wedding at that time was held in the very shop house along Duxton Road where Mr Teo grew up. His late father owned a provision shop and his parents were very conservative in following the tradition of holding the wedding at the groom’s house. Mr Teo recalled how wedding tables were placed right along the road just in front of his house. Wedding receptions in hotels were considered the modern thing to do then.

Credits to Gracie Teo

At this point, Gracie got a chance to find out more about her parents’ lives before she and her sister came into the picture. With reference to the photographs, the family spoke about the time before the children had arrived. – of previous homes, outings, friends and family.

One of the hobbies that Mrs Teo has taken up again since retiring is cooking Peranaken food. In the kitchen, Mrs Teo learned by observing her mother when she was cooking for the family. “Recipes were not passed down by written instructions, so I learned the ability to “agar” or to gauge the right amount of ingredients through rediscovering Perananken dishes in these recent years, and remembering my mother’s cooking,” she mused.

Credits to Gracie Teo

Credits to Gracie Teo

Credits to Gracie Teo

Credits to Gracie Teo

“Most of my memories started when I was around 5, a few years before entering primary school,” Gracie noted.

Gracie took the opportunity to ask about the jobs her parents had as they were bringing her and her sister up. Now having had her own working experiences, Gracie relates to her parents better.

Credits to Gracie Teo

This afternoon with Gracie and her family made us think of the intrinsic stories that can bring people and families together. With a little more understanding of each other through memories documented on photographs, kinships stay strong and continue to be resilient in hard times. Each family that we will encounter is unique and we look forward to knowing their special ways of retelling those precious moments.

Written by Samantha.