Ini Indexs
Before Singapore gained independence in 1965, primary and secondary schools that used the Chinese language as the medium of instruction were mainly founded by civic organisations and members of the Chinese community.1 Most of the founders of these early Chinese-medium schools were leaders of clan associations and Chinese temples who played an active role in Chinese-language education at that time. The “public schools” among the Chinese-medium schools were mostly built by people from all walks of life, such as plantation workers and fishermen, who generously donated money and land for schools so that their children could receive an education. After World War II, entrepreneurs, philanthropists, and professionals such as doctors and lawyers also contributed to Chinese-language education in Singapore.
Such Chinese-medium schools usually had a board of directors to appoint principals. Generally, principals helmed the schools until they retired, exerting a profound influence on the school’s culture and ethos.
In the early 19th century, Chinese settlers from the Guangdong and Fujian provinces in southern China crossed the sea to Singapore. To help these immigrants settle down and connect with their communities, leaders of the five major dialect groups, namely Hokkien, Teochew, Cantonese, Hakka, and Hainanese, set up their own clan associations. According to historical records, there were about 32 Chinese clan associations registered with the colonial government from 1819 to 1890.
After realising that many school-aged children were not attending school, some leaders of the Chinese community and chairmen of the board of directors of clan associations suggested running schools at the premises of the clan associations to nurture the next generation and transmit Chinese culture and values.
At the time, the schools set up by Chinese temples or clan associations were: Po Chiak School (founded by Po Chiak Keng in 1889), Chongzheng Primary School (formerly known as Yeung Ching School, founded by Soon Thian Keing in 1903), Yin Sin School (founded by Ying Fo Fui Kun in 1904), Qifa Primary School (formerly Khee Fatt School, founded by Char Yong Association in 1906), Kwong Fook School (founded by Kwong Fook Temple in 1916), Poi Ching School (founded by Futsing Association in 1919), Hong Wen School (founded by Hin Ann Huay Kuan in 1920), San Shan School (founded by Foochow Association in 1924), Kong Chow School (founded by Kong Chow Wui Koon in 1929), Nam Shun School (founded by Nam Shun Wui Kun in 1931), Sam Kiang School (founded by Sam Kiang Huay Kwan in 1937), and Chin Kang School (founded by Chin Kang Huay Kuan in 1946).
Among these, Chongzheng Primary School, Qifa Primary School, Poi Ching School, and Hong Wen School are still around today, and are now English-based bilingual schools.
Before Singapore’s independence, there were a total of 351 Chinese schools, and many had the prefix “public” in their names. However, the nature of our public schools (set up by the public) was different from that of those in China (government-funded). The schools in Singapore started out as traditional private schools (where teachers held classes in private) and free schools (where members of the community hired teachers to teach poor students). As the number of students increased, they gradually transformed into “public schools”.
These public schools were generally poorly equipped and faced funding shortages from time to time. Fortunately, they had boards of directors of the schools who often came forward to raise funds or make donations to help the schools tide over the difficult times.
Based on historical records, public schools at that time include Whye Nam School (1933), Pei Chun Public School (1933), Pei Hwa Public School (1934), Puay Kee Public School (1935), Seletar Chinese School (1936), Wa Mong School (1937), and Fook Hing Public School (1937).
Many of these schools are now lost in the mists of time or have had the word “public” removed from their names before transforming into government schools. Only Pei Chun continues to retain the word “public” in its name.
During the Japanese Occupation from 1942 to 1945, almost all Chinese schools in Singapore were shut down, and some of their premises were used by Japanese soldiers as command headquarters (Nan Hwa Girls’ High School), military hospital (Nanyang Girls’ High School) or warehouse (Hwa Nong School).
After the Japanese Occupation, many schools resumed classes. In July 1945, the boards of directors of the schools and principals of 25 Chinese-medium schools set up the Singapore Inter-school Association, (the predecessor of The Society of Chinese Education Singapore) to help Chinese-medium schools resume classes.
In the history of Singapore’s education, several community leaders from the various dialect groups had donated money and land to build schools and actively promote Chinese language education. They include Tan Kah Kee (1874–1961), Lee Kong Chian (1893–1967), Tan Lark Sye (1897–1972), Lim Boon Keng (1869–1957), Tan Kim Ching (son of Tan Tock Seng, 1829–1892), Tan Boo Liat (grandson of Tan Tock Seng, 1874–1934), and Neo Ao Tiew (also known as Neo Tiew, 1884–1975).
Among these community leaders, Tan Kah Kee is noted for making significant contributions to Chinese-language education in pre-war Singapore. In 1906, Tan Boo Liat and leaders of the Hokkien community jointly founded Tao Nan School, using the residence of Tan Tock Seng’s son, Tan Kim Ching, as the school campus. In 1909, Tan Kah Kee, then chairman of Hokkien Huay Kuan, took the lead by donating $2,000 to build a new campus for the school, and suggested enrolling students from different dialect groups. In 1916, upon learning that Ai Tong School was on the verge of closure due to financial problems, Tan Kah Kee took over the school’s management and bore its running costs. In 1941, he spearheaded the establishment of the Nan Chiau Teachers’ Training School (predecessor of Nan Chiau High School) to train teachers. Chinese High School, which was not among the schools affiliated to Hokkien Huay Kuan, was set up when Tan Kah Kee brought together the chairmen of 16 schools, including Yeung Ching School, in 1919. At that time, Tan Kah Kee led the fund-raising by donating $30,000, and other leaders of the Chinese community also responded positively. About $494,000 was raised in development funds for the school.
Tan Kah Kee’s devotion to the cause of education deeply inspired two men — Lee Kong Chian and Tan Lark Sye, who both once worked at Tan Kah Kee’s companies and were highly valued by him. Both men spared no effort to promote education throughout their lives.
In 1941, when Tan Kah Kee proposed setting up the Nan Chiau Teachers’ Training School, Lee Kong Chian donated a villa and land at Kim Yam Road as the school premises. In 1950, the Singapore government set up the Singapore Council for Adult Education with Lee as vice chairman and treasurer, and worked with the Chinese Schools’ Conference to actively promote adult education. In 1951, Tan Lark Sye, then chairman of the Hokkien Huay Kuan, donated a piece of land to build a school, while Lee donated a huge sum of money in his name, and the school was subsequently named “Kong Chian School”. However, the board of directors later renamed the school “Kong Hwa School” to respect Lee’s wishes. Lee once said, “My greatest contribution to the country is educating the youth”, attesting to his passion for education and the importance he attached to it.
After being elected chairman of Hokkien Huay Kuan in 1950, Tan Lark Sye continued Tan Kah Kee’s commitment to the cause of education by serving as chairman of the boards of directors of five schools affiliated to Hokkien Huay Kuan: Tao Nan School, Kong Hwa School, Ai Tong School, Nan Chiau High School, and Chongfu School. He also often donated generously to the schools.
Deeply influenced by Tan Kah Kee’s devotion to education, Lim Boon Keng initiated the setting up of Chung Cheng High School (Main) in 1938. Apart from practising medicine, Lim was also committed to education and social reforms. At that time, he hired Dr Chuang Chu Lin (1900–1973), a professor at China’s Sun Yat-Sen University, as the founding principal of Chung Cheng High School (Main). Dr Chuang, who graduated from Fukien Christian University and obtained his doctorate degree from the University of Michigan, helmed Chung Cheng High School for 18 years (1939–1957).
In 1906, leaders of the Cantonese community such as Ho Siak Kuan (1866–1947) and Look Yan Kit (1849–1933) bought 11 shophouses and founded the Kwong Wai Shiu Yeung Ching School (predecessor of Yangzheng Primary School), which cost $30,000 to build. In 1918, the school hired Lin Yaoxiang (1888–1983), a graduate of China’s Lingnan University, as its principal. In 1919, Sinn Sing Hoi (1905–1945) was transferred as a student from an English-medium school to Kwong Wai Shiu Yeung Ching School. During this period, music teacher Ou Jianfu (birth and death years unknown) noticed Sinn’s musical talent, and made him the band leader and conductor. When Lin returned to Guangzhou in 1921 to serve as principal of Overseas Chinese High School set up by Lingnan University, he took along 20 students from Kwong Wai Shiu Yeung Ching School for further studies in Guangzhou, including Sinn. Sinn later became a renowned composer in China. It can be said that efforts by Lin and Ou to nurture Sinn changed his life. In 1937, the board of directors again hired Lin as the school’s principal, and he served for 24 years until 1959.
Philanthropist Neo Ao Tiew also donated land in Lim Chu Kang to build Key Wah School in 1938, to allow children of 800 employees to receive education. During its heyday in the 1960s, Key Wah School had two branches in addition to the main school. One of them conducted classes using the opera stage of Ama Keng, a Mazu temple on Lim Chu Kang Road.
Chinese revolutionary leader Sun Yat-sen (1866–1925) travelled around the world to raise funds to support uprisings against the Qing government. In 1906, when he returned to Japan from Europe and passed through Singapore, he set up the first overseas branch of the Tongmenghui, with Tan Chor Lam (1884–1971) as its chairman and Teo Eng Hock (1872–1959) as its deputy chairman.
Sun understood that without education, women could not play an active role socially, politically, and economically. In 1911, with Sun’s encouragement, Tan and Teo actively planned for the establishment of Nanyang Girls’ School. However, the plan was delayed as Tan was helping Sun with his revolutionary cause. In 1917, Yu Pei Gao (1888–1934) from Tongmenghui, a strong advocate for girls’ education and women’s rights, came to Singapore from Borneo. Through her efforts, Nanyang Girls’ School (later renamed Nanyang Girls’ High School) finally opened for student enrolment, with Yu—who was a strong advocate for “improving women’s education and revitalizing women’s rights”—serving as its first principal and Tan Chor Lam as chairman of the board of directors. From 1927 to 1966, Liew Yuen Sien (1901–1975) was the principal of Nanyang Girls’ School. She helmed the school for almost 40 years and under her charge, it thrived and became the top girls’ school in the region.
Ini Indexs
A vocabulary is the collection of all the words in a language. It is defined by speakers of the language and reflective of a society’s social norms and culture.
Basic words are of great importance to a vocabulary as they are stable, used by all or almost all speakers of the language, and productive (used as basis to form new words). Besides basic words, there is also a vast number of common words which come from many sources, such as classical Chinese words, dialects, loanwords, lettered-words from English terms1 and local sayings. When new phrases or terms are coined and become widely used, they enrich the vocabulary of a language.
The vocabulary of Singapore Mandarin is largely similar to the standard Mandarin used in China (known as putonghua), except for the unique terms specific to local community. In the 2016 edition of the Quanqiu huayu dacidian (21st Century Contemporary Chinese Dictionary), which contains 88,800 entries, there are 1,648 terms unique to Singapore Mandarin.
Terms which are unique to Singapore Mandarin mostly reflect local features, items, and phenomena, such as zuwu (Housing & Development Board flats), leling (senior citizens), yongchezheng (Certificate of Entitlement), xinshengshui (NEWater), yitongka (EZ-Link card), jixuanqu (Group Representation Constituency), dusuijin (Chinese New Year red packets for the elderly), jianguo yi dai (Pioneer Generation), liguo yi dai (Merdeka Generation), xinjiapo siling (Singapore Sling), jiuye zhunzheng (Employment Pass). They are usually newly-created words specific to the local community, and Mandarin speakers from elsewhere may require further explanation to understand them. For instance, there are many terms in Singapore Mandarin that are formed from the base character da (big), including dacai (Singapore Sweep), dapai (HDB block number), dapo (the South Bridge area of Singapore), daerlong (loanshark), dabogong (the Earth Deity), darizi (special occasion), and dazibao (a debt collection notice).
The unconventional and innovative ways in which some terms were coined also demonstrate how society regards certain sections of the population with respect or affection. For instance, the term leling, which refers to senior citizens, avoids the word lao (old). Instead, the word le (happy) replaces it, associating the term with the peace and happiness of one’s golden years. Other terms derived from leling include: lelingcun (retirement villages for seniors), lelingzhou (Senior Citizens’ Week), leling zhongxin (Active Ageing Centre), leling gongyu (studio apartments for seniors), and more. Another example of how Singapore Mandarin terminology reflects attitudes to different social groups is the term for migrant workers: the term kegong (literally meaning “guest worker”) is used much more frequently than wailao (foreign labour).
Singapore Mandarin also differs from putonghua in that some of the same terms are used to refer to different phenomena and have different connotations. For instance, the term laogai in Singapore refers specifically to the Corrective Work Order, which penalises litterbugs by making them pick up trash in a high-visibility jacket under supervision. In China, however, it refers to reform through labour, an entirely different punishment. Another example is how dazibao refers to the debt notices that a loan shark or his runners might put up at a debtor’s home or workplace in Singapore, while in China, it refers to big-character posters which are handwritten on walls and used as a means of political protest and propaganda. And while dayi in Singapore refers to a man’s suit jacket, in China, it refers to a knee-length winter overcoat. Such differences in terminology have led to differences in understanding between speakers in both regions.
Furthermore, there are some terms which are still used in Singapore that have become less common in China. These include: youchai (postman), jitong (spirit-medium), yongren (domestic worker), dezhi (to have one’s legal appeal allowed), chefu (driver), and qingdaofu (street cleaner).
Unique terms in Singapore Mandarin are also closely related to southern Chinese dialects like Hokkien and Cantonese. For instance, the term yinsheng (a toast) originates from the Cantonese term yam seng. Terms like jipo (busybody), chishe (skiving), pashu (kiasu), and the idiom mei yu xia ye hao (literally “having shrimp is better than having no fish”, meaning “anything is better than nothing”) come from Hokkien and Teochew sayings. Certain terms are also used more frequently in southern Chinese dialects compared to putonghua. Consider the two terms for face: mian or lian. The former is more commonly used in southern dialects and the latter in putonghua. As such, a Chinese Singaporean will use mianpen to refer to a washbasin, compared to lianpen in putonghua. Similarly, there are two terms which can refer to “broad”: kuo or kuan. Southern dialects mostly use kuo, while putonghua uses kuan. Furthermore, a putonghua speaker would use the disyllabic words weizi or zuowei to refer to a seat, while in Singapore Mandarin, the monosyllable wei is usually used, omitting the other character. These are just some of countless other examples.
Given Singapore’s multicultural and multilingual environment, there should be no surprise that the interaction between English, Chinese, Malay, and Tamil has resulted in cross-pollination between the languages. In fact, many terms in Singapore Mandarin come from English and Malay. Some examples of English loanwords include: beige (boycott), guda (quota), and luoli (lorry). Many more come from Malay, like baba (baba), niangre (nonya), ganbang (kampung), relan (jalan), badi (batik), shalong (sarong), lesha (laksa), wuda (otak-otak), luoza (rojak), shadie (satay), kuilong (kelong), basha (pasar), and jialong guni (karang guni) .
There are also some terms that take their meaning from English but have their form, including their morphemes and structure, adapted for Mandarin. Take, for instance, the term qianluo,2 which is a direct translation of the English term “money mule”. The term is both evocative and accurate, and regularly used in local newspapers and reports. While seen occasionally in other Chinese- or putonghua-speaking areas, it is used significantly more frequently in Singapore.
Lettered-words make up another class of unique words in the local Mandarin database. Commonly-used words in both spoken and written language include: wu C (5C), U-zhuan (U-turn), COE (Certificate of Entitlement), CPF (Central Provident Fund), DJ (disc jockey), EM1 (English and Mother Tongue 1),3 ERP (Electronic Road Pricing), GST (Goods and Services Tax), HDB (Housing & Development Board), ITE (Institute of Technical Education), MRT (Mass Rapid Transit), NETS (Network for Electronic Transfers), NTUC (National Trades Union Congress), and PIE (Pan Island Expressway). The fact that these words are regularly used in the local Chinese language demonstrates how different languages influence and interact with each other in a multilingual environment.
In conclusion, the vocabulary of Singapore Mandarin has maintained most of standard Mandarin vocabulary to facilitate communication between the local Chinese and people from China and other Mandarin-speaking regions while at the same time adapting to local needs, reflecting the dynamism of local Mandarin.
Ini Indexs
Singapore Chinese culinary culture was largely shaped by three main factors in the early days: immigration, regional cultures, and Western influences. Over time, through the creativity and innovation of Chinese Singaporeans, these cuisines have evolved into dishes with a unique local flavour. The country’s current culinary landscape is a mix of colours, aromas, and flavours, demonstrating a nature of fusion and hybridity.
The first source of Singapore Chinese culinary culture was Chinese immigrants. In the centuries before World War II, a steady flow of Chinese merchants and workers, mainly from Guangdong and Fujian, as well as immigrants from Malaysia, Hong Kong, and Taiwan, made their way to Singapore. From the 1990s, there was another wave of immigrants from various parts of China, who brought their own distinctive foodways to Singapore. The second source was the interaction between the region’s different ethnic groups, which has allowed Malay and Indian cooking traditions (among others) to blend with Chinese cuisine, creating hybrid dishes. The third was the influence of colonialism and, more recently, globalisation, allowing Singapore Chinese cuisine to incorporate Western cooking methods.
Original Chinese ethnic foodways have since evolved to encompass local flavours and characteristics, spreading from family kitchens to various corners of Singapore. Singapore Chinese cuisine caters to the palates of the Chinese and other ethnic groups, and can be found everywhere — from snacks sold on the streets in the early days and mama shops (provision shops), hawker centres and food courts in shopping malls, to school and workplace canteens. Besides being daily nourishment, food also plays a central role in special rituals and major celebrations, and Singapore Chinese cuisine is an integral part of the country’s multicultural landscape.
In the early days, Chinese culinary traditions mainly consisted of the Hokkien (Minnan), Teochew (Chaoshan), Cantonese (Yue), Hakka, and Hainanese (Qiong) styles, reflecting the five major dialect groups of the Chinese population in Singapore. Later on, new waves of immigrants brought Sichuan, Northeastern, Hunan, Shanghai, Hangzhou, Jiangsu, and Putian culinary styles to Singapore’s food landscape. Today, the old and new coexist harmoniously: sometimes, a single restaurant will feature a mix of items of different culinary styles on its menu.
Besides culinary traditions from mainland China, Singapore Chinese cuisine incorporates elements from other Chinese societies. In recent years, dishes from Hong Kong-style cafe (e.g. yuan yang, bolo buns, pork chops), Taiwanese fare (e.g. Shilin Night Market snacks, porridge, bubble tea), and Malaysian food from Ipoh, Pontian, and Sarawak have all made their way to Singapore, where the confluence of various Chinese food cultures has become a part of our lives.
Take wonton (dumpling) noodles for example. The most common variants seen here are the Singapore version, Pontian noodles, and Hong Kong-style noodles. If we look at rice dumplings, there is the local Nonya style, savoury meat dumplings from Guangdong and Fujian, alkaline rice dumplings (locally called kee zhang), Cantonese steamed dumplings, shuangpin dumplings that are both savoury and sweet, Jiangnan red bean paste dumplings, and many others. The same is true of mooncakes. Besides the long-established Cantonese and Teochew mooncakes, we see that Shanghai-style mooncakes are gradually being accepted. The richness and diversity of these Chinese culinary traditions offer a variety of choices for Singaporeans.
Hainanese cuisine in Singaporean Chinese culinary tradition brings with it a Western influence. During the colonial era, the Hainanese were often employed as domestic helpers, and learned to make Western cuisines and brew coffee. Later, these became the kopi and kaya butter toast with soft-boiled eggs that many Singaporeans love to have for breakfast at coffee shops and food stalls. Of course, the preparation of such foods is no longer limited to people of Hainanese origin.
The clearest example of a hybrid culinary tradition might be Peranakan food. The Peranakans are descendants of early Chinese immigrants who married local indigenous women. Peranakan men are called Babas while the women are known as Nonyas. The culture is a mix of Chinese traditional practices and indigenous customs, with elements of Western influence. Peranakan cuisine (also known as Nonya cuisine) is a fusion of Chinese and indigenous styles. It makes heavy use of herbs and spices found in the Southeast Asian region (e.g. shallots, garlic, ginger, galangal, lemongrass, tamarind, palm sugar, dill, chilli, laksa leaves, mint, pandan leaves, Thai limes, assam, belacan, shrimp paste, and sambal).
It is worth noting how the preparation and consumption of some foods from China in Singapore have evolved over time to incorporate more Singaporean elements. Take for example, the Hakka yong tau foo (a dish consisting mainly of tofu stuffed with meat or fish paste). It has developed its own distinctive style in Singapore, served with sweet sauce and chili sauce, with various soup bases such as laksa, or tom yum flavour to choose from. Through localisation, it is no longer a dish only enjoyed by the Hakkas, but is also popular among the general population. Similarly, Singapore’s chee cheong fun (steamed rice rolls) has diverged from the Guangzhou, Hong Kong, and Malaysian variants, with different thickness and sauces.
Hainanese chicken rice, which is often seen in hawker centres and restaurants, is arguably the most distinctive example of a localised dish. Although it originated from the Hainanese dish Wenchang chicken, the Singapore version has its own cooking methods and taste profile. In particular, the fragrance of the rice (cooked with chicken broth, ginger, and pandan leaves), the silkiness of the chicken meat, and the chilli and ginger sauce give it a distinctly Nanyang flavour.
Another local dish that showcases creative evolution is bak kut teh (pork ribs soup). Chinese Singaporeans combined a number of traditional Chinese herbs (codonopsis, angelica root, Solomon’s seal, Szechuan lovage root, and wolfberry) and spices (star anise, fennel, cinnamon, cloves, garlic, licorice, peppercorns, sugar cane, monk fruit, and pepper) in order to make bak kut teh, a dish that is not found in China. In Singapore, bak kut teh comes in two types: the peppery Teochew type and the dark, herbal Hokkien type. It is not only popular with locals, but is also a must-try for many tourists. Bak kut teh mixes and seasoning packs are even exported to China and other places of the world.
Chilli crab — often hailed as Singapore’s national dish — further highlights the creativity of Singaporean Chinese cuisine. There are different stories about who created the dish, but what is certain is that it originated in Singapore in the 1950s and 1960s. It is now a common sight at restaurants and hawker centres. The black pepper and white pepper variants are also local cooking methods, and are popular at restaurants and celebratory banquets.
In a multicultural environment, Chinese Singaporeans have also incorporated dishes from other ethnic groups into their daily diet. Examples include rojak, nasi lemak, satay, roti prata, mee rebus, and mee siam. As for desserts and drinks, there are cendol and bandung, among many others. Chinese Singaporeans often patronise the eateries and restaurants of other ethnic groups, and some even run businesses that sell these foods.
Ini Indexs
Wong Maan Shing (Mrs Lucien Wang, 1909–2007) was born in Guangzhou, China. She completed her primary and secondary education at True Light Seminary,1 a boarding school run by an American missionary. She studied piano under the school’s founders, Harriet Newell Noyes (1844–1924) and Margaret Marr (birth and death years unknown), who were also missionaries of the American Presbyterian Church. In 1923, Wong was admitted to the department of education in Canton Christian College (now Lingnan University) and subsequently entered the Beijing Conservatory.
In 1930, Wong enrolled in the leading French conservatory École Normale de Musique de Paris, under the instruction of the great Romantic maestro and pianist Alfred Denis Cortot (1877–1962) who was known for his interpretations of Chopin. Wong then attended Trinity College of Music in London,2 before returning to China to teach music at the Guangdong Provincial Girls’ Normal School and Canton Music Conservatory.
In 1939, following the outbreak of the Second Sino-Japanese War, Wong fled to Singapore with her husband Lucien Wang Zuhui (unknown–1942), a French-trained electrical engineer. She continued to teach music at Lingnan University’s Singapore campus and Nanyang Girls’ High School, before giving private piano lessons during the Japanese Occupation (1942–1945). Unfortunately, her husband was killed during Operation Sook Ching in 1942. To honour his memory, Wong wrote the songs Huairen (Yearning Person) and Hu bugui (Why Not Return). Thus go the lyrics of Huairen: “Heart in pain, eyes with tears / Tears flowing from my heart, yet they can only be contained in the heart / The sorrow of separation and the sadness of departure, which are more severe?”
In 1947, Wong’s mother Lee Wai Tek (birth and death years unknown) joined her in Singapore from Guangzhou. The two women would live together from then on.
Besides music, Wong had a keen interest in art. In 1950, she was admitted to the Nanyang Academy of Fine Arts (NAFA), where she studied Western art and became part of its sixth graduating class.
In 1953, Wong returned to France to attend a short course on advanced piano performance techniques under Cortot, her previous mentor. She became a Singapore citizen in 1957, making her one of the first people to receive citizenship under the newly introduced Singapore Citizenship Ordinance.
In 1979, she became the first local musician to receive the prestigious Public Service Star – Silver.
As a distinguished teacher, Wong trained a number of outstanding pianists, including Cheung Mun Chit, Ong Lip Tat, Toh Chee Hung, Cai Jiabin, Zhang Meili, and Lim Jing Jing.
She was also known as a prolific composer and lyricist. Besides Huairen (Remembrance) and Hu bugui (Why Not Return) (1945), she wrote the songs Gei yiwei shizong de ren (To A Missing One), Zhizu changle (Contentment) (1982), Wode xiaoge (My Little Song), Nanyang meizhuan yuange (NAFA Anthem, lyrics by Lim Hak Tai), Xiangsi ku (Pain of Thoughts, lyrics by Tan Tze Chor) (1982), Women laidang xianfeng (We Are the Vanguard, lyrics by Zi Sheng), Dayong ge (Great Courage Song, lyrics by Gao Guantian), and more.
In her later years, Wong donated her personal letters, photographs, manuscripts, books and other memorabilia to NAFA, who maintains the publicly-accessible Lucien Wang Archive.
Wong died in June 2007 at the age of 98, leaving a rich legacy of contributions to Singapore’s music scene.
Ini Indexs
Originally from Hainan, China, Boh Chit Hee (1935–2009) migrated to Singapore in 1939 with his mother. He graduated from Chung Cheng High School in 1957 and was admitted to Nanyang University in 1964. Boh, a wireless engineering enthusiast, became interested in music when he was young. He had heard Chinese violinist Ma Sicong (1912–1987) playing Sixiang qu (Longing for Home) during university years, a performance which deeply moved him and decided to shift focus to music.1Due to financial constraints, Boh was initially self-taught in music and did not have any formal training. His skills improved after he received guidance from pianist and educator Mrs Paul Feng Pei Djen (1910–1999).2
In 1959, Boh was invited to conduct the Ai Tong and Chongfu Alumni Chinese Orchestra, a recognition of his skills as a conductor. Thau Yong Amateur Musical Association, which originally specialised in Han and Chaozhou music, also invited him to be the conductor of their Chinese orchestra. Within three years, Thau Yong’s Chinese orchestra had acquired considerable stature, successfully performing major orchestral pieces such as Xunyang yeyue (Moon Over Xunyang) and Huandu xinchun (Spring Festival Celebrations).
In 1963, Boh led most of Thau Yong Chinese Orchestra’s members to join Kangle Music Society, causing the music society to expand into a medium-large ensemble with 41 members. That same year, Kangle Music Society staged a fundraising concert with Nantah Choir, during which Boh conducted difficult orchestra pieces such as Donghai yuge (Fishermen’s Song of the Eastern Sea) and Qingnian gangqin xiezou qu (Youth Piano Concerto) to critical acclaim. This reflected not only a marked improvement in the standards of Chinese orchestra music in Singapore, but also a new height in Boh’s music career.
In the early 1960s, when musical scores could not be imported to Singapore due to restrictions in China, musicians in Singapore could only notate music by listening to records. This depended heavily on their aural skills and required considerable determination, in order to achieve any results. The limitations of his circumstances make Boh’s musical pursuits particularly significant.
Apart from notating Chinese orchestral music, Boh did not compose any Chinese orchestral pieces and was primarily a conductor. Instead, he wrote songs such as the evergreen classic Jiaolin, wode muqin (Rubber Plantation, Our Mother, 1956); Yujia zhige (Fishermen’s Song,1958), a musical play that reflected the plight of the fishermen; and Tongyi gongyun (Unified Labour Movement, 1959), a song about the unification of the labour union movement.
Apart from being a musician, Boh was a renowned master of the art of bonsai (or penjing) and held the position of the president of the Singapore Penjing and Stone Appreciation Society.
Ini Indexs
Founded in 1990, Drama Box is a bilingual theatre company that focuses on social issues and promotes social engagement. Its mission is to create space through its work for communities to reflect on complex issues and enable them to gain a deeper understanding of Singapore culture, history, and identity through creative storytelling.1 The company explores many forms of artistic practice. Scholars believe that its works — be it original works, adaptations, commercial mainstream musicals, experimental productions, outdoor community theatre, radio forum theatre, or drama workshops for the public and specific groups — have made significant impact.2 Drama Box’s founder Kok Heng Leun, who was the company’s Artistic Director for 32 years, received the Cultural Medallion in 2022. In April 2022, Koh Hui Ling and Han Xuemei took over as Drama Box’s co-Artistic Directors.
In 1990, a group of students and alumni from the drama division of the National University of Singapore’s Chinese Society got together and launched Drama Box. Like other Chinese-language theatre groups of the time, it was initially an amateur group, and staged two to three productions every year. In 1998, Drama Box officially became a full-time company, and increased the number of its productions. Besides a period in 2004 when it ceased full-time operations and presented just three small productions, the company has typically presented at least five to seven productions every year. These take place in conventional theatre venues, as well as community spaces and other sites.
Drama Box’s early years in the 1990s coincided with an era of multidisciplinary exploration in Singapore theatre, and the company started by staging experimental plays in small theatre venues, most notably independent arts centre The Substation. As it grew, Drama Box began to explore mainstream theatre genres in the late 1990s, in order to expand its audience base. In the 2000s, it delved into themes such as gender and social issues, as well as community theatre, and became one of Singapore’s most important professional Chinese-language theatre companies. Today, community participation and performances that incorporate dialogue with the audience are signature features of its works.
In 2001, Drama Box began to explore community theatre. Its works in this genre were mainly devised, scripted, and directed by Kok and theatre practitioner Li Xie. These comprised short satirical plays as well as forum theatre, which involved audience participation. The original intent of this new direction was to reach out to a wider audience. In May 2001, Drama Box presented its first community performance, Lian Can Cook, which was about domestic violence. The same year, in November, it presented Singapore’s first outdoor forum theatre performance, Have You Eaten, and began to guide the audience in participating and engaging in this style of community performance.
Forum theatre was created by Brazilian dramatist Augusto Boal (1931–2009), and is among his Theatre of the Oppressed techniques. The hallmark of forum theatre is that audience members can replace actors in the cast and resolve the play’s crisis in a manner of their choosing. In this way, the audience transforms from passive spectators into active “spect-actors”. Drama Box was a pioneer in advocating forum theatre in Singapore. Over the years, it has worked with numerous organisations to create forum theatre performances, which explore topics such as domestic violence, at-risk youths, gambling addiction, racism, and terrorism.
In a 1991 interview with Lianhe Zaobao, Kok spoke about Drama Box’s ethos of social consciousness and social engagement. He also expressed hope that the company could stimulate audiences through thought-provoking theatre, and voice its views on social phenomena.3 After affirming its commitment to social engagement, Drama Box toured various parts of Singapore to promote community theatre, bringing socially-engaged theatre with participatory elements into community nodes. Instead of conventional theatre venues, it used forum theatre and site-specific venues to build audience interaction and created space for community dialogue through its works. The company guided the audience in exploring and reflecting on social issues, narrowing the gap between art and everyday life. Kok believes forum theatre is an important part of Drama Box, with the interaction between audience and performer making art not a product, but a practice.4
Drama Box has a greater number of forum theatre productions than those staged in conventional performance venues, and they also encompass more topics. These works not only reflect and discuss real-life topics but are also a form of social intervention and activism.5By expanding forum theatre, Drama Box brought theatre to grassroots communities. And by entering public community spaces, the company created opportunities for these communities to express themselves, and consolidated its vision of being a company with a strong social consciousness that was committed to social engagement.6
In recent years, to cater to and connect with a more diverse audience, Drama Box has introduced multimedia and multilingual works. For instance, the IgnorLAND series is a form of participatory and multilingual community theatre. Through in-depth interviews and research about specific neighbourhoods and their residents, the series delineates the marginalisation of communities, and invites audiences to participate and reflect on topics such as the preservation of history and political initiatives.7In 2014, IgnorLAND of its Time was staged in the public housing estate of Bukit Ho Swee and was the company’s first site-specific social theatre production. The following year in 2015, it staged the participatory theatre The Lesson for the first time. For this production, Drama Box tried to deepen audience participation in the creative process by encouraging audience members to discuss the issue of land use and direct the plot development. In 2016, with the support of the Ministry of Education’s Character and Citizenship Education Branch, an adapted version of The Lesson was staged in schools and garnered student participation. In 2024, Drama Box was commissioned by Esplanade – Theatres on the Bay to adapt Daniel Hinds’ podcast, The Dog Who Wasn’t Useful, into an engaging and interactive play for children. This production told the story of a journey of self-discovery and speaks to the company’s continued quest to expand its audience base.
Drama Box’s notable works include:
Looking back at the development of Singapore’s Chinese-language theatre, one can observe that it has continuously engaged in interaction, dialogue, resistance, and negotiation with social, political, and cultural systems. One of the hallmarks of contemporary Singapore theatre is its transcendence of “art for art’s sake”. Rather, theatre is seen as an effective medium for translating concern for communities and society, and political engagement, into practice.8Drama Box is one of the theatre companies that illustrate this trajectory. From working in conventional venues, to shifting to black box theatres, forum theatre, and community theatre, it has continuously sought to provoke audience reflection on pressing topics. Besides creating theatre productions, it also helms discussion forums and training programmes, and strives to contribute to a sustainable arts ecosystem. Through initiatives such as the Blanc Space incubation programme, which ran for 15 years, and its youth wing ARTivate, the company nurtures new generations of theatre practitioners who continue to emphasise social consciousness, and the importance of questioning, exploring, and challenging ideas.
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Founded in 1957, the Singapore I-Lien Drama Society is one of the oldest Chinese-language theatre groups in Singapore. Its founder Yee Teck Kuan (pen name Shen Qing, 1922–unknown) headed Union Press and had many connections in the education and cultural sectors. I-Lien attracted members of the Sheng Hua School Teachers’ Association Theatre Group,1the Chinese Student Theatre Group, and the Wuhan Chorus. Its first-generation core members were mostly graduates of universities and colleges in China with experience in professional theatre production, directing, and performing. These members included Tan Zheng Ya, Chow Li Liang (1925–2019), Liu Bo, and Jiang Sha. Their experience resulted in distinctive interpretations of scripts, and performance and elocution standards that were widely acclaimed.
Since its founding, I-Lien has staged many classics by playwrights from the Chinese diaspora. These include Cao Yu’s (1910–1996) Peking Man (1958) and Thunderstorm (1959); Fei Mu’s (1906–1951) Begonia (1958); Zhou Yi Bai’s (1900–1977) Hua Mulan (1959); Yeo Kok’s (1905–1991) The Resentment of the Qing Dynasty Palace (1965); and Li Jianwu’s (1906–1983) Jin Xiaoyu (1967), an adaptation of French playwright Victorien Sardou’s (1831–1908) La Tosca.
In 1983, the group presented its first Shakespeare in Chinese exhibition in Singapore, launched by then-Minister for Culture Ong Teng Cheong (1936–2002). The same year, I-Lien’s artistic consultant Chua Soo Pong directed Shakespeare’s The Tempest, which was part of the Ministry of Culture’s Drama Festival. From then on, the group’s productions became more diverse and included Kyogen (a form of traditional Japanese comic theatre) Little Flower Girl (1985), Frederick Knott’s (1916–2002) Wait Until Dark (1987), and Swiss author and dramatist Friedrich Durrenmatt’s (1921–1990) The Visit (2011). Princess Jasmine, I-Lien’s first cross cultural production, scripted and directed by Chua Soo Pong, received the best production award of the 1984 Ministry of Culture’s Drama Festival.
Key directors in I-Lien’s early years included Tan Zheng Ya, Chow Li Liang, and Tan Wang Cheng. In the 1980s, Chua Soo Pong, Andy Teo, Tan Sok Hua, Elena Chia, and Ng Yik Lei began directing its productions. The director ranks continued to grow in the 1990s, with the entry of Teo Ngak Seng, Lee Wee Heong, Hua Liang (1953–1995), Tan Tiaw Gem and Zou Yong Hui. In the 2000s, I-Lien continued to work with veteran directors such as Cheng Yau Kwok, Chua Soo Pong, Liu Lisha, Yang Wenzhong, Elena Chia, and Chen Tian Ci. It also provided opportunities for young directors, such as Cai Rong An, Kwong Wai Chung, Ye Xiangling, Wang Weiyang, and Li Te.
The group began to present crosstalk, skits, original short plays, poetry recitations, and poetry-based theatre from 1984. Its crosstalk performances continued until 1989 and included The Boastful One (1984), The Marriage (1986), Fearful Ghost (1988), and New Edition of Idioms (1989).
Skits and original short plays were also I-Lien signatures. These included Golden Cockerel (1985), Let’s Catch the Bad Guy (1986), A Story From A Long Long Time Ago (1986), Watch a Movie (1989, 1990), and The Extra (1993). In 2019, it even tried its hand at a short English-language play, Wanton.
From the 1990s to 2000s, a new generation of directors took the lead, exploring new horizons. Under the leadership of Yang Guo Biao, Lim Ngian Tiong, and Tan Soh Hwa, I-Lien began staging productions for children. These included The Wizard of Oz (2001, 2002, 2004) and Malan Flower (2005), as well as Run! Little Rabbit Run! (2011, 2012) and The Mouse Daughter’s Marriage (2013), both of which were collaborations with Singapore Focus Theatre.
In 2016, I-Lien’s 60th anniversary celebrations included a discussion forum and a recitation concert at the National Library’s The POD, and a stage production based on Hans Christian Andersen’s fairy tale The Nightingale, which was presented at The Arts House and at the International Theatre Festival held at Toyama, Japan in the same year.
As one of the oldest Chinese-language theatre groups in Singapore, I-Lien has always believed in reflecting the lives of people here through original productions (as well as adaptations), and also in its presentations of the classics.
Many of the group’s veteran members are Teochew, which was why it once adapted the Teochew opera Swapping Partners (1990, 1992). In 2000, I-Lien even staged a Teochew version of The 72 Tenants, which was originally a Shanghainese comedy. This production was warmly received by audiences and restaged to full houses the following year.
From 1991 onwards, the group began to take part in cultural exchanges locally and abroad. Its first overseas performance, Frederick Knott’s Wait Until Dark, was staged at the Malaysia International Theatre Festival and received a warm reception. Two years later, I-Lien took part in the same festival with an Adults Fables series. Directed by Andy Teo and Wu Zheng Quan, the series included A Thin Line, Apocalyptic Weddings, Song of the Extra, and other original short plays full of local flavour.
The group created Princess Jasmine, a cross-cultural poetry-based drama inspired by classical Javanese theatre, in 1984. This won the Best Production award at the Ministry of Culture’s Drama Festival and was restaged locally and abroad in 2006, 2007, and 2009.
I-Lien first took part in South Korea’s Masan International Theatre Festival in 2002 and went on to do so for the next 12 years. In 2013, The Mouse Daughter’s Marriage, directed by Chua Soo Pong, was staged as part of the Monaco International Arts Festival. In 2016, The Nightingale was invited to take part in The World Festival of Children’s Performing Arts in Toyama, Japan. A year later, Wang Weixiang adapted and directed The Monument, which was staged as part of South Korea’s Chuncheon International Theatre Festival. In 2019, a condensed version of Princess Jasmine and That Fateful Night were staged as part of the Shandong International Small Theatre Drama Festival in China.
I-Lien is currently led by May Tan, who also heads a choir. This choir collaborated with I-Lien for the first time in 2014 on Songs that We Sang, a production with much local flavour. In 2018, under Tan’s tenure, I-Lien presented the original musical Rainbow in My Heart, written by Koh Teng Liang and directed by Tan Tiaw Gem. The same year saw the staging of Indistinguishable Strokes, a fusion of local martial arts and street dance that was choreographed by Eugene Seow.
In 2019, I-Lien presented Because of You and In My Song, two original productions about Singapore senior citizens, accompanied by songs. It also staged Kopi No Limit, a short play that was livestreamed to develop its actors through a new format and attract new audiences.
During the COVID-19 pandemic, the group turned to livestreaming its productions and explored online content. In 2022, it presented an online production to celebrate Chinese New Year and resumed live performances with Familial Ties, written and directed by Koh Teng Liang, and staged at Stamford Arts Centre.
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Arts Theatre of Singapore is the oldest Chinese-language theatre company that is still active in Singapore. It was founded in the 1950s, during the anti-colonial era when Singapore and Malaysia were fighting for independence. Its founders were a group of Chinese-educated youths who were active in student theatre during their secondary school years, including Wang Qiutian (1905–1990), Low Ing Sing (1924–2002), Tay Bin Wee (1926–2000), Liu Huai’en (birth and death years unknown), Phua Beng Tee (1929–2003), Wu Zhufu (birth and death years unknown), and Cai Guohua (1926–unknown). On 16 April 1955, they successfully registered the theatre group. During the British colonial period, it was not easy to set up a Chinese-language theatre group, and for various reasons, the group had to register using Singapore Amateur Players (SAP) as its name.1
The group’s focus was Chinese-language theatre. In November 1955, after almost a year of rehearsals, it presented Sunrise written by renowned Chinese playwright Cao Yu (1910–1996). The choice of this play reflected the artistic ambitions of its founders and the desired cultural positioning of the group. The actors, sets, lighting, and costumes for this inaugural production garnered much attention, support, and praise.2In 1960, the group became one of People’s Association’s member organisations. In 1961, it was invited by the Ministry of Culture to take part in the second Cultural Festival. For this event, Arts Theatre of Singapore member Lin Chen (1919–2004) created an original work.
In its first 15 years, Arts Theatre of Singapore stood out for three reasons: the quantity and frequency of its productions, its steady pipeline of performers and directors, and its distinctive style of realism. From 1955 to 1962, it staged the greatest number of plays and dance performances among local theatre companies. These included Chinese-language classics created by the Chinese diaspora elsewhere, such as Cao Yu’s Sunrise (1955), Thunderstorm (1957) and Family (1959); Xia Yan’s (1900–1995) Under the Roof of Shanghai (1956) and Fragrant Flowers on the Horizon (1959); Wu Zuguang’s (1917–2003) Lin Chong Flees by Night (1961); Yu Ling’s (1907–1997) Apartment for Ladies (1961); and Huang Zuolin’s (1906–1994) The Thief (1962). The group also staged Chinese-language versions of renowned plays from the West, such as Nikolai Vasilyevich Gogol’s (1809–1952) The Government Inspector (1957); Night Inn (1958), which was adapted from Russian writer Maxim Gorky’s (1868–1936) play The Lower Depths; and French dramatist René Fauchois’ (1882–1962) Mind the Paint (1962).
The Arts Theatre of Singapore had many experienced directors, such as Wang Qiutian, Lin Chen, Low Ing Sing, Wu Jingtian (1926–1985), Tay Bin Wee, and Huang Tianneng (1926–late 1990s). It also featured many actors who had first ventured into theatre when they were students. These3 included Bai Shuluan, Gao Jinfeng (1926–2013), Tan Peng Boon, Pang Nai Yeow, Liang Baozhu (1931–2009), Chen Youcao, Li Nana (1933–1989), Zeng Panpan, Chen Guoshou, and Liang Qiaozhen. It abided by the aesthetic principles of realism and used exquisite stagecraft to depict the essence of real life.
From 1966 to 1976, the group continued in this style of realism, staging Chinese-language adaptations of plays created during different periods by playwrights all over the world. These included iconic works such as Oscar Wilde’s (1854–1900) Lady Windermere’s Fan (1966); Cao Yu’s Peking Man (1966); Henrik Ibsen’s (1828–1906) Nala (1967); and Chen Baichen’s Promotion Scheme (1968).
In 1968, Arts Theatre of Singapore started an actor training programme, which infused new blood into its ranks. It also presented monodramas such as Xianggelila xiaojie (Miss Shangri-La) (1968), Jinzhi xiaobian (No Peeing) (1967), Yige pingguo yige shijie (An Apple, A World) (1971), and The Thief (1977).
In the 1970s, the group had over a hundred members. Its dance and vocal music divisions were led by Liang Qiaozhen and Long Xueting respectively, and presented Jianghe zai benliu yinyue wudao wanhui (“Rivers Are Flowing” Music and Dance Concert) (1972), Shiyue huanchang wanhui (October Melodies Concert) (1974) and Wenyi wanhui (An Evening of Literature and Art) (1978), which continued to express the creative spirit of earlier shows such as Yinyue shige wudao wanhui (An Evening of Music, Poetry, and Dance) (1960) and Wenyi wanhui (An Evening of Literature and Art) (1962). From 1966 to 1976, Arts Theatre of Singapore also staged original plays which were collectively devised, such as Juchong (Maggots) (1973), A tian shu (Uncle Ah Tian) (1974), A Secretary’s Dream (1978), Nightmare (1978), and Gambling (1978). Its first attempt at collective devising took place in 1973, at its 18th anniversary. The result was the play The Second Escape, and the programme booklet was published alongside.
From 1979 to 1994, Arts Theatre of Singapore continued to explore many artistic practices. It took part in the Ministry of Culture’s Drama Festival, where it presented The Unwelcome Guests (1979), Chasing the Rainbow (1981), An Uninvited Guest (1982), The Truth (1983), The Flying Swallow (1984), and A False Step (1986). During this period, its significant productions also included Public Opinion (1983), Andi (Auntie) (1985), The Wedding (1988), Gone with the Wind (1990), and The Bells Are Chiming (1991), which was a joint performance with NTUC Drama Troupe.
From 1982 to 1985, the group took part in crosstalk performances and skits organised by radio stations, and performed original crosstalk works by Zheng Jianyuan. Subsequently, it presented many crosstalk and skit shows, such as Xiaokou changkai xiangsheng wanhui (An Evening of Laughter and Crosstalk) (1991), whose artistic director was renowned crosstalk performer Hao Aimin from China. Other outstanding original crosstalk productions included The Laughter from Old Days (1999). Arts Theatre of Singapore’s crosstalk productions of the 1980s and 1990s, and its presentations of short plays in Chinese and English in 1991, were important works during this phase.
In 1986, Koh Chong Chiah, who had been part of Arts Theatre of Singapore since 1971, took over the reins. The group continued to teach classes in vocal music, dance, theatre, and crosstalk. In 1992, it began teaching and promoting theatre in schools.
1995 was a milestone year for Arts Theatre of Singapore — it registered as a non-profit professional theatre company, and adopted Arts Theatre of Singapore Ltd as its official English name.4It started classes for children, teaching performing arts, language, music, and dance, and established the Little Raindrops Children’s Arts Troupe. It collaborated with Guizhou’s Little Flower Children’s Arts Theatre Company and Yunnan’s Ethnic Children’s Arts Theatre Company for performances and began to focus on the performing arts for children. By staging musicals for children — such as Huaxianzi (Flower Fairy) (1996), A White Rabbit (1996), and The Ugly Duckling (1998) — it established itself as a leader in this new niche.
In 1998, the company launched its annual Inter-School Short Play Competition to encourage students to create original works. It also started a creative drama camp for students, which it conducted till 2004. Since 2007, its school drama competition became a part of the Singapore Youth Festival organised by the Ministry of Education, which was another milestone for Singapore Chinese-language theatre.
Over the years, the company has staged, adapted, and created a repertoire of over 10 popular children’s productions. These include Treasure Island (2015), Tadpole Looking for Mom (2016), and Little Prince (2019); and plays from its Chinese Proverbs series, such as Waiting for the Rabbit (2016), Nanke yimeng (A Dream Under the Southern Bough) (2017), the Journey to the West series, and allegorical play Mr Dongguo (2016). Its original plays include Heshu yiqi fei (Flying with Books) (2018), Women de jiayuan (Our Home) (2019) and Huanbao xiaotianshi (Little Recycling Angel) (2019).
Arts Theatre of Singapore has long been a training ground for graduates of Nanyang Academy of Fine Arts (NAFA)’s theatre programme, and also their biggest employer. Ai Jiaqi, who was part of NAFA’s first batch of theatre graduates, is now the company’s Artistic Director. The company is active in primary and secondary schools, and has performed at Victoria Theatre, Drama Centre, Goodman Arts Centre, Singapore Chinese Cultural Centre, China Cultural Centre, Gateway Theatre, and various community clubs. It stages an average of 50 shows of various types every year, reaching out to 20,000 audience members, and has nurtured generations of audiences for Chinese-language theatre. During the COVID-19 pandemic, it produced over 30 livestreams for schools, and its children shows have been invited to tour China, Japan, and Thailand. The company continues to innovate as times change, and has become an indispensable part of mainstream Singapore Chinese-language theatre.
Ini Indexs
An essay that looks at historical representations of Chinese culture in English-language fiction in Singapore quickly runs into a conundrum: given that the Chinese are the ethnic majority in Singapore and that the country’s burgeoning writing scene is so diverse, where does one begin to generalise on the ideas and themes that have emerged? Adding to this conundrum: surely any literature which reflects Singapore life would deal, at least in part, with the lives of the Chinese populace?
For these reasons, this essay needs to be scoped in a more considered fashion. Firstly, the focus will be on titles which capture the way of life of the resident Chinese population since the first waves of immigration to Singapore. Thus, these will be primarily works of fiction in the realist tradition. Works penned by Singaporean authors set in other countries with international characters or in more fantastical locales — including outer space — will not be included in this scan. Also, the ethnic background of the Singaporean authors is not relevant given the number of significant titles written by non-Chinese authors which feature Chinese characters or capture the ethnic Chinese culture in their time.
Even then, a caveat still has to be made: given the sheer volume of published Singaporean works of fiction, not all noteworthy titles will be referenced if the essay is to keep to its intended length.
Arguably the first English novel from Singapore is Goh Poh Seng’s If We Dream Too Long (1972). We can start the discussion by looking at this seminal coming-of-age novel, which was reprinted in 2010. It is still discussed in literary circles today, even if it does not feel part of mainstream cultural discourse. The protagonist Kwang Meng offers an insight into the psychology of a Chinese youth in newly independent Singapore, and reminds us that even then, there were characters on the margins who marched to their own beat. The novel’s landscape set in the 1960s will be familiar to older Singaporeans — cramped Chinatown shophouses, new public housing flats, seedy bars downtown, and quiet beaches away from the city centre. There is also an early attempt to capture local English patois — not always successfully — given Goh’s own background and time spent abroad.
But even in this early novel, we see the negotiation between youthful individuality and the expectations of larger society and the state. This would be a theme that many other writers would cover in the decades to come. The non-conforming anti-hero, embodied by Kwang Meng who resists the pragmatic, progress-oriented ethos of his peers, would become a figure that would recur in many novels and short stories by different authors over the decades.
There is a long lineage of such characters, perhaps drawn from the Romantic ideal of the isolated artist breaking free from societal strictures to imagine a different world. They include the dreamer Ah Leong from Philip Jeyaratnam’s First Loves and the diffident Wing Seng from Daren Shiau’s Heartlander. Distinctive local colour animates these works, including National Service as a key rite of passage in the life of a young Singaporean male. In the various narrative arcs, we also encounter meaningful interaction among Singapore’s multi-ethnic cultures, including its attendant complexities. First Loves, for instance, features a romance between Ah Leong’s sister and Rajiv, a Malayalee boy. In fact, a few chapters are told from his perspective, and this narrative shift allows readers to understand the impulses and tensions of inter-racial coupling in the 1980s.
Dave Chua’s Gone Case is also worth a mention here. Yong, the first-person narrator, is younger than a typical bildungsroman character. But the 12-year-old shares the observant, questioning stance of many other fictional protagonists. Through his lens, we experience the small pleasures, disappointments, and tensions of life in a Housing & Development Board (HDB) estate, including clashes over religion in the family and the death of a beloved grandmother. Thanks to its popularity and the critical attention paid to this novella, Gone Case has been adapted for telemovie and a graphic novel.
In the scans of representations of the Chinese community in post-1965 Singaporean literature, it would be remiss not to discuss Catherine Lim, whose fiction has captured the imagination of many Singaporean readers. Known for her prolific writings ranging from novels to newspaper opinion pieces, she is most celebrated for her best-selling incisive short stories. For many years, Lim’s short story collections such as Little Ironies and Or Else, the Lightning God & Other Stories were staples in the classroom, especially for English language and literature lessons. Accessible to Singaporean readers, her works showcased distinctively Singaporean settings, often with age-old Chinese traditions set up in opposition with a modern, more “rational” sensibility. Old wives’ tales and superstitions added to the cultural backdrop against which uncharitable, mean antagonists experienced their comeuppance and virtuous characters like mistreated maids got their day in the sun.
Many of Lim’s stories took a dig at Singaporean preoccupations and foibles: the avaricious man who longed for a landed property only to have his dreams realised in the paper house burned at his Taoist funeral; the unsympathetic teacher who tut-tuts over a student’s poor grammar but neglects to hear the child’s cry for help; or the unrepentant gambler who sees winning lottery numbers in the licence plates of cars involved in accidents. The use of authentic Singlish in a taxi driver’s complaint to his passenger also reminds us how the vernacular was already recognisable in the 1970s. (Little Ironies was first published in 1978.) In “The Taximan’s Story”, the narrator grumbles about girls hustling as social escorts for Western visitors, despite the irony that he is only too happy to accept their fares and the disturbing revelation that his own daughter is one of these “loose” girls.
Lim’s novels and short stories may not read as serious literary fiction and indeed there has been criticism about one-dimensional characters and the predictability of plot lines. But her works clearly have a place in the Singaporean literary canon, with Little Ironies often regarded as a classic. They offer a cast of memorable characters and a snapshot of life in the 1970s and 1980s, especially in reminding us of the darker face of modern, urbanised life and the challenges to Chinese cultural practices and beliefs. In many ways, Lim paved the way for the next generation of fiction writers. These include Claire Tham and Colin Cheong, with their memorable sketches of young Singaporeans on the margins, as well as authors like Jeyaratnam, Shiau, and Chua, whom we previously discussed.
It is also important to register that writers may not write about contemporaneous society or draw from their own lived experience. Well-researched and imagined historical fiction can bring a bygone Chinese community to life, enabling readers to time-travel. Stella Kon’s The Scholar and the Dragon is a good example. First published in 1986, the narrative kicks off in the early 20th century. The protagonist Boon Jin, who hails from China, adapts to life in colonial Singapore by integrating his traditional schooling with the capitalistic ethos of the merchant class in the Straits Settlements. The Chinese diaspora’s attitudes towards their homeland are well-fleshed out, with expository debates about needed reforms and the direction that China should take, and the narrative closes with the Qing empire’s demise in 1911. In the novel’s coda, set years later in the modern city-state, descendants of Boon Jin commemorate their forebears’ establishment of the (fictitious) Wenguang Chinese Academy.
Kon’s embrace and expression of Confucianism in her novel has been questioned by critics, especially in multi-cultural Singapore. The narrative leans toward the didactic but elides over much of the horrors of World War II and Singapore’s rocky journey to independence. Nor does it interrogate the problems of colonialism, Mainland China’s fraught politics, or the realities of political self-determination. While eminently readable, The Scholar and the Dragon should be seen as a partial, selected sliver of the Singapore story. The worldview here is an Anglophile one: the Straits Chinese characters represent a specific social economic class which aspired to a Western education, and even possessed the resources to visit America. As interlocutors between the two cultures, there appears to be no interest in changing the ruling order in the Straits Settlements. One could defend this work as reflecting the attitudes of an elite group in colonial Singapore. Nonetheless, readers must work hard to plumb for relevant insights for today.1
Probably more resonant for contemporary readers are works from Meira Chand and Suchen Christine Lim, two of the most lauded creative writers in Singapore. Their historical works set in Singapore include Lim’s Dearest Intimate and The River’s Song, and Chand’s A Different Sky. These offer portrayals of Chinese characters navigating a tumultuous period in a multi-ethnic society, and the emergence of the modern nation-state. The Singaporean reader can see, through their narrative arcs, how the national psyche and its negotiation of different ethnicities, with all its contradictions and compromises, was managed.
In The River’s Song, Lim gives voice to the disenfranchised Chinese squatters evicted from their makeshift riverside homes, and paints the government bureaucrats behind the resettlement exercise and the public housing department in a less flattering light. But the novel also seems to support the larger national story: the protagonists Ping and Weng, despite their impoverished beginnings, become a respected music teacher at Berkeley in the United States and a renowned musician by the end of the narrative. Even as he memorialises the generations before him that were profoundly affected by the eviction, Weng also acknowledges the “good life on this sunny golden island”, noting he has put on weight in his middle-age. Passages like this underscore the trade-offs made in the name of progress.
Dearest Intimate, Lim’s work in 2022, deals with the complexity of the human heart, its expansive capacity to love in the harshest of circumstances. Told from the perspectives of Cantonese opera artiste Kam Foong and her granddaughter Xiu Yin, the novel also poses questions about the deeper value of Chinese opera, and shows how the arts can nourish the soul in times of chaos and terror. Kam Foong’s journey chronicles the tough life in an opera troupe in pre-independent Singapore, while the modern narrative, told through Xiu Yin’s lens, points to the enduring potential of this centuries-old art form.
A Different Sky, on the other hand, has a more multi-ethnic cast of characters including Eurasian Howard Burns and Raj, an Indian trader, as Chand attempts to chart how Singapore evolved from a colonial port attracting diverse immigrants to a home for people with a shared imagination and vision of the future. The main Chinese character is Mei Lan, who falls in love with Howard. Through Mei Lan, we meet her grandmother with bound feet, get a glimpse into the life of the privileged merchant class in Singapore and follow her domestic servant or amah on a visit to her sorority in a crowded kongsi tenement.
Covering the period from 1927 to 1956, Chand shows the competing driving forces which shaped the island and created the conditions for the rise of political self-determination and an incipient nationalistic consciousness. These include the import of Communist ideology from China, the Malayan Emergency in the 1950s, as well as the psychic damage left by the Japanese Occupation. The hybridised identities and the inter-racial romance between Mei Lan and Howard also presage the diversity of contemporary Singapore.
Nonetheless, it is worth highlighting that the novel is far from a simplistic tool of nation-building or the recounting of the official “birth of the nation”. For starters, the novel ends almost a decade before Singapore’s formal independence in 1965. Founding prime minister Lee Kuan Yew (1923–2015), as well as the political party he established, the People’s Action Party, makes only a few appearances in the last few chapters. By the novel’s end, the thwarted lovers reunite and affirm their roots in Singapore, finding their happy ending as Howard proposes to his beloved. “We are not the people we were,” Mei Lan demurs, reminding him how the war transformed them. But echoing the larger teleological narrative in the novel, Howard quietly replies, “Burned forests regenerate.”
Lim and Chand’s works, while dealing with universal human themes of familial ties, migration, and romantic connections, also trace the evolution of the Chinese community in Singapore, even if this may not be the primary intention of the authors. Their novels certainly enable readers to develop a more nuanced view of ethnic identities and a contemporary sense of the Singaporean sensibility.
Other notable long-form historical fiction which deals with the Chinese community in Singapore include Vyvyane Loh’s Breaking the Tongue, Lee Jing-Jing’s How We Disappeared, and more recently, Rachel Heng’s The Great Reclamation. These historical fiction works all revisit the trauma of World War II on the Chinese community, underscoring how the privations of the Japanese Occupation set in motion the move towards self-determination and left an indelible impact on ethnic and self-identities. They also offer a complementary, sometimes critical, lens to the master narrative of the nation’s founding.
The success of the modern nation-building enterprise has contributed to the mediation of lived experience through, first and foremost, national lenses. Not surprisingly, any communal themes are less insular and diasporic self-consciousness has all but disappeared. There is a clearer sense of a national identity, perhaps almost taken for granted, which translates to a greater confidence in the authorial voice, and a willingness to explore the local milieu while keeping an eye on the universality of the human experience. We certainly saw this in the works of Catherine Lim, Philip Jeyaratnam, Dave Chua and Daren Shiau. The international accolades that The Great Reclamation — published in 2023 — has received for its sweeping historical arc and vividly rendered characters attest to the possibilities of storytelling set in Singapore.
But where does our English-language fiction go from here? Younger Chinese Singaporean fictionists actively publishing today are the product of an education in the English-language medium and exposed to global cultural influences. They may be bilingual, more confident, and ready to reflect the world around them, including life in Singapore as well as the island’s history. There is no cultural cringe. But at the same time, these writers are also global in their outlook, with many living overseas. This generation of writers are more plugged into international markets and cosmopolitan trends than ever, whether it is K-pop, Hollywood culture, or the fantastical worlds created in gaming. Many of their interests reflect the expansiveness of imagination, with neither nationality nor ethnicity limiting authors from absorbing new cultural influences and aesthetic trends into their literary enterprises.
Ini Indexs
Along with their non-Christian Chinese counterparts, Singapore’s Chinese Protestant community witnessed significant shifts in the island’s socio-cultural and political landscape in the 20th century. They participated in the high point of China-oriented nationalism from the 1900s to 1940s, watched from afar the rise of the Communist regime in China in 1949, and experienced the subsequent developments which led to an independent Singapore nation state by 1965. These shifts raised existential questions. To what extent should they continue to link their faith to China’s religious and political developments? How should they relate to Singapore, their adopted place of settlement? Singapore’s Chinese Protestants, as prominent scholar Shih Shu-mei noted, were forced to contemplate the end of their status as diasporic Chinese by the late 1940s and 1950s.1
The Chinese Methodists churches in Singapore (and broadly, Malaya) became more locally-oriented than China-oriented between the first and second halves of the 20th century. In the 1920s and 1930s, these churches made significant efforts to forge closer connections with each other and establish themselves as an “autonomous” group within the local Methodist denomination. This included the launch of the Chinese-language publication Southern Bell in 1929, and the Malaysia Chinese Mission Conference in 1936 (known later as the Malaysia Chinese Annual Conference in 1948). In the 1930s, the Southern Bell was not only a means of fostering ties between the different Chinese Methodist churches; it also became a key instrument in building a deep concern for Chinese nationalism, and enabling Chinese Methodists to “negotiate between their Chinese and Christian cultural identities” by focusing on themes like the anti-Japanese National Salvation movement and the “subsuming of Chinese thought under Christian faith and morality”.
From the 1940s to 1960s, under the leadership of the China-born leaders who had survived World War II, China dropped out from the pages of the Southern Bell. Instead, reports focused mainly on local stories about the churches as “pressing issues [like the Communist insurgency] were now those affecting Malaysia and Southeast Asia, rather than China”. These reports emphasised the growth achievements of various churches; the pastoral and evangelistic work conducted by missionaries and the Conference’s preachers and volunteers in the New Villages (newly-created settlements for rural Chinese communities living in peninsular Malaya) during the insurgency; and Christian marriages in the churches. This effacement of China and emergence of the local socio-political context as the central reference point in the Southern Bell marked the beginning of the “end of diaspora” in the Chinese Methodist churches.2Nonetheless, the Southern Bell’s primary aim to connect disparate Chinese churches across Malaya and Southeast Asia remained unchanged after World War II. What shifted was the lens through which they reported these connections: from a China-oriented lens to a local Cold War perspective.
Singapore’s Chinese Presbyterians emphasised the idea of a “Three-Self Church” — a self-governing, self-supporting and self-propagating body — modelled after the Presbyterians in China during the 20th century. The British missionaries and China-born pastors and preachers assiduously implemented this “Three-Self” policy in Singapore (and broadly, Malaya). This model remained a part of their long-term strategy, even after the Chinese Presbyterians dropped their direct affiliations with the Presbyterians in China after 1949.
This was evident in their vigorous pursuit of independence. The Hokkien and Teochew Presbyterian congregations in Singapore were considered the first denominational Chinese churches to pursue autonomy from their mission body, the English Presbyterian Mission (EPM). In 1901, the eight congregations which had been established by EPM missionary J.A.B Cook (1854–1926) over the past 20 years organised themselves into a Chinese Synod, taking steps to create self-governing and self-supporting congregations. By 1931, the EPM missionaries ceded power to the Chinese Synod and all congregations in the Synod were required to self-finance. While the desire for autonomy was driven locally by China-born Presbyterian leaders and the missionaries, they were also influenced by earlier initiatives for independence by the Presbyterian churches in Fujian and Chaozhou.3
Besides striving for autonomy from the EPM, a key feature of the “Three-Self” strategy was the building of institutions. This involved establishing Presbyterian congregations and schools across Singapore and Malaya. According to one historical account, 32 churches were founded in Singapore, Johor and other places across the peninsula (such as Kelantan and Terengganu) from 1901 to 1950. The number increased from 1951 to 1970 as a consequence of the Emergency and a plan to add the number of churches across Singapore and Malaysia. By then, the Chinese Presbyterians had cut their affiliations with the Presbyterians in China. This expansion plan resulted in new churches in the New Villages and as far up north as Penang, Kuala Lumpur, and Ipoh. By 1968, when the Chinese Presbyterians identified themselves as part of the local denomination, The Presbyterian Church in Singapore and Malaysia, there were 52 Chinese Presbyterian churches with a combined total of 6,498 members.4
Quek Keng Hoon (1884–1975) was one of the Teochew Presbyterian pastors who led this expansion during the 1950s and 1960s along with his close friend, Hokkien Presbyterian pastor Yap Kok Hu (1887–1978). They pioneered church initiatives across Malaysia as part of the “Three-Self” conviction to make the Chinese Presbyterian churches fully independent. One of these was the churches’ purchase of 200 miles of palm plantations in Pontian, Johor in a step towards financial independence. Unlike the Methodists, Singapore’s Presbyterians followed China’s “Three-Self” model, even when they had fully identified as an ecclesia in Singapore and Malaysia and stopped identifying as a diasporic Church.5
In the 1930s and 1940s, an evangelical revivalist spiritual movement originating from China spread to Chinese Protestant churches in Singapore. Under the influence of John Sung (1901–1944) — a prominent Chinese evangelist — evangelistic teams were formed, adopting a model that extended to urban and rural areas across mainland China, Hong Kong, Taiwan, and Southeast Asia. Singapore became a crucial node in this network.6
One individual who was deeply involved in Singapore’s evangelistic teams after World War II was Leona Wu (Goh Cheng Leng, 1897–1974), who arrived in Malaya in 1934 after a distinguished teaching career with the EPM in Xiamen. She was the first and longest-serving President of the Singapore teams from 1935 to 1974, as well as the founding principal of the first Chinese-medium Protestant higher education institute in Singapore, Chin Lien Bible Seminary (considered the sister institution of the teams). Chin Lien and the evangelistic teams were inspired by specific institutional movements which had been developed in Republican China. The former was based on the ‘spiritual seminary’ model which was established by Jia Yuming (1880–1964), considered as one of the most outstanding and prolific conservative theologians in Republican China. Jia had been Leona Wu’s teacher in Ginling Women’s Theological Seminary (Bible Teacher’s Training School for Women) from 1934 to 1935. The latter, as mentioned, was directly influenced by John Sung. Wu’s broad aim for these two institutions was to replicate the successes of China’s evangelical revivalist movement among Chinese churches and communities in Southeast Asia during the 1930s and 1940s. Though a respectable level of spiritual revitalisation was achieved during the 1930s, the Japanese Occupation put an abrupt stop to the activities of this revivalist movement. After 1945, the movement was unable to regain the same level of momentum and popularity. This was partly due to Sung’s death in 1944, which meant the loss of the movement’s most charismatic figure. Wu responded strategically to this post-World War II circumstances. Recognising the decline of the evangelistic teams as a popular movement, she shifted her focus towards supporting regional missionary work to rural Chinese communities in Singapore and Malaysia. This involved the evangelistic teams financially supporting theological training at Chin Lien Bible Seminary in Singapore for young men and women missionary trainees, reflecting a commitment to long-term local engagement.7
Wu also pursued global Christian and political affiliations for the institutions she led. She aligned the evangelistic teams (and indirectly, Chin Lien Bible Seminary) with the International Council of Christian Churches (ICCC), an important global Protestant fundamentalist and anti-communist association during the mid-20th century. This strategic move, influenced by her key associates Timothy Tow (Tow Siang Hui, 1920–2009) and Quek Kiok Chiang (1916–2015), enabled Wu to maintain ties with Taiwan through visits and nostalgic expressions of loyalty to the Republic of China.8
Tow and Quek were Teochew Presbyterian youths who had joined the evangelistic teams in Singapore in 1935. They became significant Singaporean church leaders with global ambitions after World War II. Unlike Wu, Tow and Quek had arrived in Singapore in their youth, after spending part of their childhood and teenage years in China. Their education in Singapore’s mission schools and training as interpreters under the Chinese Secretariat of the colonial civil service system fostered proficiency in English, Teochew, and other Chinese languages. Both men tended to situate their faith-based endeavours within the global context of Anglo-American-led evangelicalism, prioritising global orientation over diasporic affiliations to China. Inheriting a conservative theological stance from Sung’s evangelistic teams, they were swayed by the ICCC’s advocacy for doctrinal purity across churches worldwide, and pledged their loyalty to this fundamentalist faction of global evangelicalism.
Aiming to enact the global fundamentalist agenda in Singapore, Tow and Quek led the newly-established English-language congregation of the Teochew Life Presbyterian Church (Say Mia Tng) to form the first local fundamentalist church in Singapore — Life Bible-Presbyterian Church. This church would expand into the Bible-Presbyterian Church of Singapore and Malaysia — the island’s fastest-growing denomination from the 1950s to 1980s. Their other major contribution was the founding of the Chinese-English bilingual publication Malaysia Christian, which became a public news and recruitment platform for fundamentalism in Southeast Asia. Ultimately, Tow’s and Quek’s diasporic affiliations to China were subordinated to the goals of their global-local fundamentalist project.9
