I REMEMBER with great fondness my six years at the local community drama club in Auckland, New Zealand.
On Monday evenings we would spend two hours or so cavorting around learning characterisation (a broom stick attempting to free itself from a cupboard), improvisation techniques and how to project the voice ("diaphragm people!").
These weekly classes were to ready us for the end of term musical productions the club would stage three times a year. In my time I played numerous characters, from a glow-in-the-dark toadstool and an evil baron with a wry smile, to a juggling clown called Zibbidy.
All this experience ignited my passion for the performing arts, which continued through my teenage and tertiary years, eventually leading me to theatre, film and television/media work.
Apart from confidence, the shows I was a part of as a child imparted the fine art of communication — no matter how or what I was dressed-up in — something that has come in very handy in my career.
I got to re-live some of my experiences in child-theatre last weekend when I saw one of the final performances of Magic For Maya, produced by the Centre Stage School of the Arts, which conducts regular classes in acting, dance and singing from a black and white colonial building, off Portsdown Road.
Set in war-time Singapore, the play tells the tale of a young teen, Maya, and her friends as they wait out the night for word of their parents who are stationed at Alexandra Hospital. To ease their angst, Aunt Jenny — the only adult in the play — gets the kids to role-play, sing songs and perform magic as the ominous drone of air raid sirens and mortar explosions echo outside.
Over 60-minutes, we experience the children's emotional challenges as they discover more about themselves and how, even in the darkest of moments, they must find courage together and hope for a better tomorrow.
Writer/director, Sangeeta Nambiar said the story came about after she read about the Alexandra Hospital massacre on Valentine's Day 1942, where hundreds of British troops, medical staff and patients were slaughtered by the Japanese forces.
"I was amazed at how this event had stayed a statistic," said Nambiar. "The idea for the play emerged from there."
The energised cast, ranging from eight to 15-years, gave a thoroughly engaging performance that also included music by Jane Lau and Neeraj Shaabi, dance and even some sleight-of-hand trickery.
Their raw talent shone through and each member brought individuality to their part, which was refreshing to see and contributed to the intrigue and the message behind Nambiar's script.
Maya, played by 15-year-old Ida Esmaeili, gave a stand-out performance as the play's main protagonist and even at such a tender age, her talents are already apparent.
She was complemented by Sam Duffy, 13, who took on the imaginary character of the Great Count Spinney during one of the kids' games, with great gusto and swooping of limbs. Shaggy-haired Neil Shaabi, eight, was also a joy to watch as he confidently performed the famous Indian rope trick to the gasps and applause of the cast and the packed-out audience.
At one point, the game between Spinney and Maya role-playing the wise Lord Tigre (Tiger), goes too far. Spinney pretends to be wounded in a dramatic duel, scared she may have actually hurt him, Maya breaks out of character to check on her friend. But it was all a trick and Spinney claims victory, abruptly ending the game.
Aunt Jenny steps in, reminding Sam the game should be fun.
"But war is like that Aunt Jenny," he tries to reason.
"Yes, but we mustn't lose our minds or courage — no one can take away our spirit," Jenny cautions.
Suddenly the children are faced with the grim reality of war, death and the fear of the unknown.
"What have we done to them?" Maya pleads.
Heavy stuff and yet the cast of nine never missed a beat and had the audience — a mixture of parents, kids and the public — in the palm of their hands, right to final scene where Maya and Aunt Jenny remind us that with hope, and strength of character we're capable of great things.
During the rapturous curtain call, seeing the kids beaming with delight at their performance, it reminded me how important this exposure is for a child. The opportunity to take on a character, make it your own and work with both kids and adults to put on a show for the public is an empowering feeling that stays with you always.
The cast and crew of Magic For Maya. PHOTO: Centre Stage
Productions like Magic For Maya provide an outlet for youth to explore their abilities, where they can feel emotions and use them to power a story line, allowing them to communicate on multiple levels with their peers and their audience.
Through my work in schools here, teaching drama and media, I've seen that this form of expression is sometimes lacking as drama and dance co-curricular activities are often used as a vehicle to win awards in the Singapore Youth Festival. Their efforts are worthy, but once the competition is over that's it for another year.
Hopefully, more schools like Centre Stage will take up the baton and provide opportunities for Singapore youth to perform year round.
Child-theatre not only imparts the skills to communicate but also the confidence to be an individual, the sooner kids grasp this the better and like Maya they will come to realise, as Aunt Jenny said: "Magic is all in the mind. Magic is really what we make of it."
The Centre Stage players are next performing at Jubilee Hall from December 3-6 in their Christmas production; A Right Rubbish Christmas. Visit their website for show and course details.