Ini Indexs
Samuel Ting Chu-San (1926–2007) was born in Xiamen, Fujian. In his early years, he studied to be a concert pianist under Russian musician Boetelin1. At 19, he studied vocal music with American music teacher Roderick Scott (1885–1971) at the Fukien Christian University where he distinguished himself by becoming a teaching assistant excelling in vocal, composition, conducting and piano music.
After graduating in 1948, Ting went to Hong Kong to further his studies under vocal musician Hu Ran (1912–1971). In 1953, he relocated to Singapore, where he taught at Chung Cheng High School for two years.
In 1957, Ting won a scholarship to study at the University of Southern California in Los Angeles, where he learnt choral conducting under Charles C. Hirt (1911–2001), vocal music under Karl Laufkotter (1899–1993), and the pipe organ under Irene Robertson (birth and death years unknown).
On his return to Singapore in 1959, Ting taught at Trinity Theological College, followed by Ngee Ann College. In 1961, he founded the Heralds Choral Society, which held frequent performances in Singapore and abroad. Also under the choral society’s umbrella were the Echo Children’s Choir, Echo Youth Choir, Echo Women’s Choir and Echo Angklung Group. For more than 20 years with Ting at the helm, Heralds Choral Society performed in Australia, Japan, Taiwan, Hong Kong, Thailand, Malaysia, and many cities in mainland China.
To recognise his contribution to music in Singapore, Ting was awarded the Public Service Star (Bintang Bakti Masyarakat, BBM) by the President of Singapore in 1970. He was made the first president of the Association of Composers Singapore in 1980. He later moved to Sydney, Australia, where he continued to teach music and became a member of the Music Teachers’ Association of New South Wales. He translated 36 collections of Western sacred music during his time in Australia.
Ting’s original music compositions include 72 albums of hymns and sacred songs (total of 144 songs), and 15 albums of choral compositions (each album containing at least three pieces). These include Yanyang tian (A Beautiful Sunny Day), Zheli daochu doushi yangguang (It’s Sunshine Here and Everywhere), Huanle wuqu (Joyful Dance), Jianguo jinxing qu (Nation Building March), Women de ge (Our Song), and Huangpu zhongxue xiaoge (Whampoa Secondary School Song). In addition, he also wrote more than 30 vocal solo works in Chinese and English including art songs Ge (Song – H.E.A. D), Muqin (Mother), Wode ge (My Song), Wo zhude defang (Where I Live), Wo dengni zai xiangsi shuxia (Beneath the Lover’s Tree, I Wait for Thee), Shiyu hu shang zuige (Drunken Song on Lake Shihu), and Shantou gushi yuan tingting (The Rock on the Hilltop Looks Like an Elegant Pavilion). His instrumental compositions include piano piece Xipan liangchen (At Dawn By The River Side), violin piece Xinjiapo zhilian (Singapore Romance), and cello piece Daoguo lian (Romance in F).
Ini Indexs
Michael Tien Ming Ern (1918–1994) was born in Hankou, Hubei, with ancestry in Hebei, China. During the Second Sino-Japanese War, a group of patriotic youths formed the Wuhan Chorus consisting of nearly 30 members. Tien was its assistant conductor at the young age of 19, while he was still a student of vocal studies under renowned voice teacher Zhao Meibo (1905–1999) at the Shanghai Conservatory of Music. Led by its director Xia Zhiqiu (1912–1993), the choir toured various places in Southeast Asia in 1938 to raise funds for China’s anti-Japanese war efforts.
In 1949, Tien relocated to Hong Kong, where he taught at the China Christian Sacred Music School (now Hong Kong Music Institute) founded by composer Shao Guang (1919–1983). Tien appeared on stage playing the leading male role in the opera La Traviata singing entirely in Italian and caused a stir in November 1951.
In the 1950s, Hong Kong’s Yung Hwa Motion Picture Industries Ltd engaged Tien to manage its musical matters1. Leading actors and actresses such as Li Li-hua (1924–2017), Julie Yeh Feng, Lin Dai (1934–1964) and Yen Chun (1917–1980) studied singing under him.
Around the 1960s, Tien translated many Italian folk songs and persuaded the Hong Kong branch of Pathé Record Company to record a series of foreign-language songs. These records met with very good response, the most popular song being the Chinese version of the Spanish song La Spagnola.
In 1955, Tien was invited to join Chung Cheng High School in Singapore to teach music. He then went on to study in Italy, France, England, the United States and Austria from 1959. He returned to Hong Kong to teach at the music department of Hong Kong Tsing Hua College in 1963. In 1967, he came back to Singapore and was appointed inspector of music in the Ministry of Education and conductor of the People’s Association Choir, before becoming a lecturer in the Teachers’ Training College. The book Zhongxue geji (Songbook for Secondary Schools), edited by Tien in 1968, was widely used in secondary schools in the 1970s. He also published educational books such as Shengyue qianshuo (A Brief Introduction to Music) and Shengyue yuanli (Music Theory), among others.
Tien and his wife, vocalist Joy Chen Yu Shen, also trained a good number of musical talents in Singapore, such as Zhu Linmei, Tan Ngiang Kaw, Chen Shunzhong, Wu Mingsheng, Ng Choy Luan, Huang Huifang, Cai Fenghua, Long Yumin, Han Zheyuan, Chee Woon Yang, and Jin Heng Tung.
Though fundamentally a vocal performer and an educator in vocal music, Tien also arranged, adapted, and sang a number of Chinese and foreign songs such as Suwu muyang (Su Wu Shepherding), Midu shange (Song of Mount Midu), Machefu zhilian (Romance of the Horse Carriage Driver), Alamuhan (Beautiful Girl Alamuhan), Biandan ge (Shoulder Pole Song), Ye meigui (Wild Rose), O Sole Mio, La Spagnola, A Serenata d’en Rose, La Paloma, Triumphal March from Aida, and Santa Lucia. He also wrote original vocal works such as solo piece Nongjia le (Farmer’s Song), and choral works Chusheng de zhaoyang (New Morning Sun; lyrics by Chen Qi), and Xinjiapo, niduo nianqing (Singapore, How Young You Are; lyrics by Chew Kok Chang).
Ini Indexs
As early as the 19th century, the Chinese community in Singapore established many private schools that focused on teaching the Four Books and Five Classics, central texts associated with Confucianism. Lessons at these institutions were mainly conducted in Chinese dialects. In the early 20th century, revolutionary movements and reforms initiated by Kang Youwei (1858–1927) and Liang Qichao (1873–1929), scholars from China, spurred various Chinese dialect organisations to set up schools that offered new models of education in Singapore. With the founding of Republican China, Singapore’s Chinese-medium schools viewed promoting Chinese culture as their mission and entered a robust phase of development. From 1919 onwards, these schools were influenced by China’s national language movement and gradually switched to teaching in Mandarin.1
Teaching the Chinese language required teaching the phonetic transcription of Chinese characters. In Singapore, different systems of phonetic transcription have been adopted during different time periods. These included zhiyin (which indicated pronunciation using homophones), fanqie (which indicated the pronunciation of a monosyllabic character by using two other characters), zhuyin (which used phonetic symbols), and hanyu pinyin (which uses a romanised phonetic alphabet).
Before the end of the Qing dynasty, the zhiyin and fanqie systems were used for the phonetic transcription of Chinese characters. The zhiyin system used another character with an identical pronunciation (a homophone) to indicate the pronunciation of a character. For example, the pronunciation of the character 郝 (hao) would be indicated using the character 好, which is pronounced the same way. In the fanqie system, the pronunciation of a character is indicated using a character with the same initial consonant, and another character with the same medial and final sounds. For example, the character 东 (dong) is transcribed by combining the initial consonant of the character 德 (de) and the medial and final sounds of the character 红 (hong). The fanqie system was used in ancient times.
In 1912, the then-Ministry of Education in China held an education conference and decided on the use of phonetic symbols. After many revisions, this system was officially adopted in April 1930 as a way to transcribe the Mandarin pronunciation of Chinese characters. These phonetic symbols resembled the constituent strokes of Chinese characters and were reminiscent of Chinese calligraphy. For example, the symbol for the sound “bo” was ㄅ, while ㄆ stood for “po”, ㄇ for “mo”, and ㄈ for “fo”. This system was not easy to grasp. Nevertheless, from the 1930s onwards, most Chinese-medium schools in Singapore used this system to teach the Chinese language, and those born in the 1950s who attended these schools learned these phonetic symbols.
In February 1958, the Chinese government approved the Hanyu Pinyin Scheme, which uses the 26 letters of the Latin alphabet to transcribe the pronunciation of Chinese characters. This replaced the phonetic symbol system, which was difficult to learn, read, and remember. In 1971, hanyu pinyin was introduced in Singapore. In 1974, the Ministry of Education announced that hanyu pinyin would replace the longstanding phonetic symbol system. By 1979, hanyu pinyin was adopted across the board to teach the Chinese language, and the phonetic symbol system was phased out of the education system.
The local adoption of hanyu pinyin was not without its challenges. Singapore’s bilingual policy requires students to learn English and their Mother Tongue, which meant that Singaporean Chinese students had to learn how to pronounce and write both the English and hanyu pinyin alphabet. However, because the pronunciation of both alphabets are not identical, educators and parents at the time were concerned that learning hanyu pinyin would hamper students’ learning of English. In 1980, the Ministry of Education stipulated that students would only learn hanyu pinyin from Primary Four to Primary Six. After over 10 years of experimentation, it was found that no significant issues arose when students learned English and hanyu pinyin simultaneously. Hence, from 1992 onwards, schools could decide if they wanted their students to start learning hanyu pinyin a year or two earlier. A year later, the Ministry of Education decided that students could start learning hanyu pinyin in Primary One, before they were taught to read Chinese characters.
Hanyu pinyin did not solve all the issues associated with the phonetic transcription of Chinese characters. For example, when transcribing a Chinese phrase or proverb comprising several characters, should each character be presented as separate words or be joined without any spaces in between? Other common concerns that educators had included: How should phrases ending with the non-syllabic final “r” (儿) or in neutral tones be transcribed? What were the rules for transcribing names?
Subsequently, China established the Hanyu Pinyin Orthography, which was used together with the Hanyu Pinyin Scheme. The Chinese government later set the Basic Rules of Hanyu Pinyin Orthography as its national standard. The latest version of this publication has been in use since 1 October 2012, providing clear rules and definitions for various issues related to how hanyu pinyin should be written.
Now, the teaching of hanyu pinyin in Singapore’s primary schools broadly follows rules set by China. For instance, the new editions of the Chinese textbook Huanle Huoban (Versions 1.0 and 2.0) for primary school students use word-segmented writing. However, since Singapore Mandarin has its own distinct characteristics, various aspects of phonetic transcription here differ from those used in China. For example, the final “r” is not commonly used in Singapore, so its phonetic transcription is flexible. Proverbs are also transcribed without hyphens. Additionally, the first letter in a transliterated Chinese surname is capitalised while the transliteration of one’s given name can be presented as separate words or combined. Most Chinese-language educational materials here choose to combine the transliterated characters of Chinese given names, while both variations can be found in official identity documents.
In December 2015, the International Organisation for Standardisation established international standards and rules for word-segmented writing and automatic transcription in hanyu pinyin as international standards. Singapore was the first country to adopt these standards, marking a milestone in the history of Singapore Chinese education.
Ini Indexs
Clan associations are important organisations that looked after the welfare of early Chinese immigrants in Singapore. Clan associations established facilities and institutions — such as cemeteries, schools, and philanthropic organisations — to meet the needs of their members, who were immigrants from the same region in China. As such, these associations were involved in matters from cradle to grave. Like other Chinese communities in Singapore, the Hakkas also set up clan associations to take care of their brethren here. After establishing a firm economic foundation, this community began setting up philanthropic organisations, such as healthcare institutions.
Kwong Wai Shiu Hospital is linked to Kwong Wai Siew Peck San Theng cemetery, which was set up by the Cantonese and Hakkas from the Guangzhou, Huizhou, and Zhaoqing prefectures of Guangdong province in 1870. As the funds of their respective clans associations grew, they started planning for a hospital to provide free medical services for immigrants from the three prefectures. In early 20th century Singapore, medical fees were a heavy burden for the lower and middle classes. By setting up a charity hospital, the community leaders brought great benefits to their fellow countrymen.
In 1909, epidemics were rampant in Singapore, and the government-built hospitals struggled to cope. Then Governor of the Straits Settlements, Sir John Anderson (1858–1918), encouraged leaders of the Chinese community to help alleviate this healthcare issue. At the time, the leaders of the Guangzhou, Huizhou, and Zhaoqing community in Singapore were looking for a site to build a hospital. Anderson transferred the lease of a Serangoon Road site (which formerly housed Tan Tock Seng Hospital) to these leaders for a token sum of 5,000. This was where they built the Kwong Wai Shiu Free Hospital.1
In its early years, the hospital mainly practised traditional Chinese medicine, which was supplemented by Western medicine. It only served immigrants from the Guangzhou, Huizhou, and Zhaoqing prefectures. On 15 June 1974, the hospital was renamed to Kwong Wai Shiu Hospital and access to its services was expanded to all Singaporeans, based on an earlier proposal by Lam See Chiew (1918–2005), the chairman of the hospital’s board of directors, which was unanimously agreed by the board. In the 2000s, with the support of the government, the hospital remained at its Serangoon Road site and continued to develop. To expand its services, it set up a Community Training Institute and began working with partners such as HCA Hospice Care, Fresenius Medical Care, and Healthway Medical. The philanthropic spirit of the community’s early leaders and their legacy lived on through such endeavours.
The Char Yong (Dabu) Association was established in Singapore in 1858.2In 1890, it launched the Fei Choon Kwan clinic, which mostly served immigrants from China’s Dabu County. In 1894, the clinic moved into its premises at Beach Road, which later became inadequate. In 1919, after discussions among its board of directors, the clinic began operating at a new site at 363 Balestier Road and changed its name to Char Yong Fei Choon Hospital.
The hospital was devastated during World War II. After the war, its board launched fundraising efforts in 1953 and raised tens of thousands of dollars. The donations, together with funding from prominent Hakka community leaders Chong Moong Seng (1899–1977) and Ho Khee-yong (1901–1966), enabled the hospital to reopen. In the 1980s, the hospital underwent reconstruction and a new five-storey complex was completed in 1989. Healthcare standards in Singapore had risen by the late 1980s, and leaders of the Char Yong (Dabu) Association saw the need for the hospital to evolve with the times after fulfilling its early mission of serving immigrants from Dabu. After many discussions, both at the board level and among the association’s members, the new hospital complex was leased to Dr Chin Koy Nam, a general practitioner of Dabu descent, who developed it into an integrated medical centre.
On 19 September 1995, the Char Yong (Dabu) Association registered the Char Yong (Dabu) Foundation Limited. The foundation was funded with two-thirds of the income generated by 36 units in the association-owned condominium, Char Yong Gardens. It supports initiatives related to philanthropy, education, and culture in Singapore. For example, in 2006, the foundation donated S$300,000 to the Confucius Institute in Nanyang Technological University. It also supports publications and activities related to Hakka culture.
From the establishment and evolution of Kwong Wai Shiu Hospital, Char Yong Fei Choon Hospital, and Char Yong (Dabu) Foundation Limited, we can see how these Hakka philanthropic organisations started out by looking after the welfare of their countrymen, then went on to serve all Singaporeans eventually. This trend reflects the mindset shift of Hakka immigrants, who first came south to Singapore to earn a living, with the hope of returning to China later. Over time, however, they sank roots here and came to call Singapore home.
Ini Indexs
A seal (in the simplest and most general terms) is a piece of material, often stone, on which an identifier, often a name or pseudonym, is engraved. Unlike seals from other cultures that are imprinted onto wax or wet clay, an East Asian seal is imprinted on paper with a specialised vermillion paste.
Seals that were used to verify one’s identity were possibly the earliest form of Chinese art to arrive in Southeast Asia. Their impressions can be glimpsed in early documents, inscriptions, plaques, and temple artefacts. By the mid-19th century, there would likely have been local carvers who worked on seals within the Singaporean Chinese community, making them pioneers of the practice in Singapore.
The earliest-known seal album printed in Singapore is the Shihanzhai Seal Album, compiled in 1898 by Yeh Chih Yun (1859–1921, editor of Lat Pau), which contained around 180 imprints of seals completed after he had migrated south.1 It was not hard to see that Yeh’s influences were similar to those of late-Qing carvers, consisting of playful variations on the style of the Zhejiang School, which was known for its epigraphic emphasis. Yeh’s seal carvings reflected the styles popular in Nanyang at that time, such as mixed scripts, imitated leaf patterns, outlined characters, mixed red and white characters, and “hanging needle seal script”, which are deemed “heterodox” stylisations. These seal imprints are important early evidence that the history of seal carving in Singapore cannot simply be understood within the confines of the art form’s development in China.
Following the Japanese invasion of China during World War II, a wave of Chinese seal carvers migrated to Singapore. Among them were Goh Teck Sian (1893–1962, arrived in 1938), See Hiang To (1906–1990, arrived in 1938), Chang Tan Nung (1903–1975, arrived around the 1940s), Wong Jai Ling (1895–1973, arrived in 1939), Tsai Wan Ching (1907–1970, arrived after 1939), Tan Keng Cheow (1907–1972, arrived in 1949), and Fan Chang Tien (1908–1985, arrived in 1956).2This generation of seal carvers was influenced to some extent by the modern Chinese art curriculum, which had begun to regard seal carving as a stream under the visual arts. They had established standards and concepts regarding the art history, stylistic schooling, and aesthetic theory of seal carving. While these artists’ seal carvings lacked some of Yeh Chih Yun’s capricious brilliance, they greatly contributed to the overall awareness and proficiency of seal carving in Singapore. Goh Teck Sian favoured the seal style of the Qin and Han dynasties, Tan Keng Cheow inherited the seal style of Wu Changshuo (1844–1927), popular in fine arts academies, from his teacher Huang Binhong (1865–1955), while Chang Tan Nung drew inspiration from seal styles popular at that time. All of them were prominent seal carvers of their generation.
In addition, there were several individuals such as Lin Qianshi (1918–1990), Tao Shoubo (1902–1997), and Feng Kanghou (1901–1983), who briefly stayed in Singapore or had close connections with local practitioners, and thus helped to nourish the local scene. During this time, the conditions for the exhibition and circulation of seal engravings had also taken shape in Singapore, with the printing of seal engraving catalogues, seal imprint panels, and the presence of organisations like the Nanyang Epigraphy, Calligraphy and Painting Society, which was established in 1948 with executive members such as seal carvers Wong Jai Ling, Tsai Wan Ching, and See Hiang To.3The market for seals in Singapore had thus outgrown the mainly practical requirements of the past.
The most influential figure in the development of seal carving in Singapore would undoubtedly be See Hiang To, who taught at Nanyang Academy of Fine Arts (NAFA). See, also known as Hongze, was born into a family of scholars and artists in Zhangzhou, China. His father, Shi Gongnan (1880–1946), was also a calligrapher, painter, and seal carver, and their family had a considerable collection of books and materials. In 1975, See compiled and published the Lixianglou Seal Album, a collection of his father’s seal carvings.
See’s seal-carving style is diverse, combining characteristics from different sources, ranging from ancient scripts from bronzes and coins to imitations of contemporary masters such as Wu Changshuo, Zhao Zhiqian (1829–1884), and Qi Baishi (1864–1957). His seals exuded the “flavour of the knife” regardless of the style, exuding a strong sense of archaic beauty. Overall, his seals aligned with the prevailing styles in contemporary Chinese fine arts academies, which were particularly influenced by the Zhejiang School. From his seal albums, one can observe the solid foundation of his skills, which might have appeared somewhat too formalised but allowed him to educate the next generation of seal carvers during his tenure at NAFA, though without imposing his own style on them.
His students founded art societies that became the three pillars of Singapore’s seal carving community. Zhuang Shengtao and Oh Khang Lark founded the Molan Society in 1967, Tan Kian Por (1949–2019) and Tan Kee Sek founded the Siaw-Tao Chinese Seal Carving, Calligraphy and Painting Society in 1971, and Wee Beng Chong founded the Lanting Art Society in 1987.
As mentioned earlier, the subsequent generation of seal carvers had mostly encountered the practice through NAFA around the 1960s to 1970s, either as teachers, students, or through more informal contact. It is worth noting that at that time, NAFA did not formally establish a specialised seal carving programme. Instead, students pursued their interest in seal carving and sought guidance from their teachers on their own. As a result, more informal organisations such as art societies played a crucial role in the development and sharing of seal carving during this period.
Seal carving was a mature art form by the 1980s. Practitioners were not just producing seals with practical uses, but also creating more artistic works. In terms of form, they began exploring stylistic possibilities beyond the Ming and Qing tradition. This period marked the emergence of a unique seal engraving practice in Singapore, as the walling-off of China led to divergences in the two countries’ understanding of seal aesthetics.
This generation of seal carvers was much more vibrant compared to the earlier one. Some more senior seal carvers of this period were Lim Hui Eng (1921–1984), Tan Tee Chie (1928–2011), Lim Mu Hue (1936–2008), Liu Pao Kiang (1935–2023), and Lu Eng Wah. In addition to the five students of See Hiang To mentioned earlier, there were others like Tan Kin Chwee, Tan Chin Boon, and later-generation engravers such as Ho Bee Tiam, Teo Yew Yap, Oh Chai Hoo, and Lee Soon Heng.
In the 1970s, the publishing scene for seal albums had reached a period of maturity. Starting with Liao Baoqiang yinji (Seal Album of Liu Pao Kiang), published in 1963,4almost every seal carver published their own seal albums or participated in art society publications. This greatly strengthened the overall artistic community in Singapore, giving them more exposure to the art of seal engraving and better understanding of it.
The first local publication that summarised the development of Singapore’s seal carving scene was Xinjiapo Zhuanke (Seal Carving in Singapore), published in 1976 to accompany an exhibition of the same name. It featured the works of 10 seal carvers and was foundational to the documentation of the practice in Singapore.5This catalogue demonstrated the emergence of the concept of a Singaporean seal carving practice in the 1970s. Siaw-Tao, together with Sibaozhai Gallery, later jointly organised and published four editions of Xinjiapo Yinren Zuopin Zhan/Ji (Singapore Seal Carvers’ Exhibition/Album) in 2002, 2004, 2006, and 2008.6These were important attempts to trace the history and current practice of Singaporean seal carving and have set the foundation for this article.
The publications were all organised by the seal carvers themselves, who attempted to frame the history of seal carving in Singapore through their own experiences. However, there remains a need for more critical and scholarly works on the topic.
Today, seal carving continues to be relevant to a new generation of practitioners in Singapore, who with their new cultural backgrounds and sources of aesthetic inspiration still find within the square inch of red pigment a potent opportunity for self-expression. Some new directions taken by Singaporean seal carvers today include the use of ceramics instead of stone, as well as a shift towards abstraction, local parlance, simplified Chinese, and the Singapore landscape.7These works forge a way ahead for a truly Singaporean practice of the ancient art form, and ensures the survival of the cultural practice long after the obsolescence of seals as verifiers of identity.
Ini Indexs
Chinese religious practices in Singapore, although inspired by ideologies, texts, and ritual practices from China, have proven to be extremely adaptable. These practices have adjusted to resonate with Chinese communities wherever they have settled in the world. The veneration of keramats (pre- and post-Islamic sacred sites) and datuks (personifications of local deities in Malay culture) remains popular among the Chinese in Singapore. These practices can be found wherever the Chinese have settled in Nusantara (the Indonesian term for Maritime Southeast Asia), but are most prominent in the Straits Settlements — Penang, Malacca, and Singapore — where such deities are honoured in both roadside shrines and established temples. Many of these shrines dedicated to keramats and Datuk Gongs also observe Islamic customs, such as avoiding the consumption of pork.
Strictly speaking, keramat and Datuk Gong worship refer to two different practices. Keramats — broadly translated as “sacred objects” or “miracles” — refer to the graves of holy men and women, objects they were associated with during their lifetime, and even other living objects, such as trees, tigers, and crocodiles.1Across Singapore, several graves and holy sites dedicated to Malay-Muslim individuals continue to proliferate and are visited by Chinese devotees. Although rarely heard of today, the veneration of animals, particularly those characterised as tame and associated with guardian spirits of a place, was not uncommon. In 1960, fishermen from Sungei Kadut and Bukit Panjang would leave a keramat crocodile undisturbed and pray to the animal before they left for work.2
Datuk Gong (male) or Datuk Nenek (female), in contrast, refer to Chinese ways of addressing local deities or guardian spirits that are believed to have Malay-Muslim characteristics. They are often associated and conflated with Chinese deities such as tudigong (lord of the land) or dabogong (earth deity also known as fude zhengshen). However, the distinction between keramat and datuk veneration is fluid, as their definitions can overlap depending on historical and religious contexts. For example, Keramat Syed Abdul Rahman (birth and death years unknown), his sister, and his mother on Kusu Island were referred to as “Datuk Gong” and “Datuk Nenek” respectively, showing how these titles were used interchangeably among Chinese devotees.3
There is no clear evidence as to when the Chinese started venerating keramats and datuks in Singapore, although these practices have persisted to this day. In early colonial Singapore, John Crawfurd (1783–1868) noted that a structure had been erected over the tomb of Iskandar Shah (1370–1424，known as the founder of Malacca): “a rude structure has been raised…to which Mohammedans, Hindus, and Chinese, equally resort to do homage”, arriving to venerate the keramat.4The worshippers were predominantly Chinese, with records showing that Stamford Raffles’ (1781–1826) secretary had urged Colonel William Farquhar (1774–1839) to stop them from setting off fireworks in the area.5
During the 1950s, anthropologist Alan J. A. Elliot (birth and death years unknown) also documented datuk worship through spirit-mediums.6 He found that though many keramats historically existed on the island of Singapore, most have vanished. For instance, the Indian-Muslim Keramat Bismillah Wali (Upper Changi Road), which once had a following that rivalled that of Habib Noh among Chinese and non-Chinese devotees alike, was reclaimed for redevelopment projects by 1979.7
Several keramats, however, remain popular sites for pilgrimage and worship among the Chinese community in Singapore. The Kusu Island pilgrimage, for instance, remains popular to this day. Devotees abstain from pork on the day of their visit and climb the hill to venerate the keramat at the top after paying their respects to the dabogong on the island. According to Hokkien community leader Cheang Hong Lim (1841–1893), pilgrimages to the island during the ninth lunar month were prevalent and continued to form the heart of bustling activities.8
There are many reasons why keramats and Datuk Gongs are venerated among the Chinese. Often, devotees are drawn to the deities for their reputation for performing miracles. For example, the Arabian Haradmi Keramat Habib Noh (1788–1866) was renowned for performing many miracles for his devotees in his lifetime, attracting not only Indian Muslims but also a steady Chinese following. Oral accounts note that he enjoyed watching operas at the nearby Hock Teck See temple at the foot of the hill on Palmer Road, where his keramat stands today.9Today, many Chinese devotees of the temple make donations to the mosque and keramat building next door after making their offerings at the dabogong temple.
The diverse symbols found in keramat and datuk worship are a testament to Singapore’s multi-ethnic and multi-religious nature and its rich tapestry of different belief systems. The renovation of the Kusu Keramat, for example, was partly funded by Chinese tycoon Ong Chwee Tow (fl. 1920s, birth and death years unknown) after one of the female keramats allegedly communicated with him through Chinese male spirit-medium He Mingfa (birth and death years unknown), based along Rangoon Road in Singapore. The shrine’s prominence is reflected in the multilingual inscriptions — in Chinese, Arabic, and Malay — on its stone stelae.10 It is also noteworthy that not all datuks were Malay or Indian-Muslim. For example, the German Girl Shrine on Pulau Ubin pays tribute to an unidentified German girl, as its name suggests, though it is also referred to as Lady Nadu.11
Sociologists have examined the datuk phenomenon as a reflection of inter-ethnic exchanges in the broader Malay world, where practitioners of Chinese religion have carved out a niche for the ethnic Chinese in a predominantly Malay-Muslim environment. This integration allows them to interact meaningfully within a cosmological system that resonates with their beliefs.12In these hybrid spiritual environments, predominantly characterised by inter-ethnic exchanges, it is not uncommon for deities from other religious backgrounds, such as Ganesha, to be venerated alongside Chinese tudigong, dabogong, and Datuk Gong. A prime example is the Loyang Tua Pek Kong, which features three separate sanctums and shrines dedicated to each of these deities.13
It is hard to clearly categorise the manifestations of Datuk Gongs as they are represented in many different forms, much like keramats. Several Datuk Gong shrines in the region spanning Changi, Siglap, and Kembangan, for example, are associated with natural phenomena like trees, recognisable by the yellow cloth they are wrapped in or by their yellow altars. They can also appear as unusually shaped rocks or other distinctive natural features. For example, the Datuk Gong at Ting Kong Temple in Telok Blangah is represented by an ornately carved ceramic tile, whereas the one at Chong Ghee Temple in Sengkang takes the form of an anthropomorphised rock adorned with garlands.
In some Chinese temples, a deity image resembling dabogong dressed in Malay attire, like a songkok or sarong, may also be dedicated to the Datuk Gong, reflecting how local Chinese devotees view these deities as indigenous entities. Islamic symbols and architecture are also often incorporated into these altars, such as crescent and star motifs and onion domes.
Several Datuk Gongs are viewed as local deities who safeguard their respective areas and their patrons and followers. For example, the Punggol Datuk Gong shrine, which was built during the ongoing construction of a nearby bus interchange, initially faced several issues during its redevelopment. Consequently, an altar was erected nearby to relocate the deity, and was later accompanied by an image of Ganesha. Similarly, at Jiutiaoqiao Xinba Nadutan, dabogong and Ganesha are enshrined in the temple’s main hall, while a separate chamber was built for the Datuk Gong, featuring a cave-like setting with a waterfall, model turtles, and Malay clothing.14In Toa Payoh Central, the Ci En Ge altar was believed to be a Datuk Gong shrine due to the yellow cloth wrapped around the tree growing there. This tree was believed to have stopped machinery from removing it during Toa Payoh’s redevelopment. Today, the secondary Datuk Gong shrine has been established within the tree’s roots, which have grown into the cement of the altar itself.
Not all Chinese temples originally featured a Datuk Gong, though certain events can lead to the establishment of such shrines. In Kim San Tze temple in Jalan Ulu Siglap, a temple elder recounted how the temple only added a Datuk Gong shrine when a Peranakan spirit-medium, speaking on behalf of the deity, persistently requested for one to be built within the temple. His visits only ceased when the deity was enshrined. Similarly, the Tian Teck Keng temple — devoted to the Third Prince Nezha and previously located at Balestier — honoured the local datuk. After the temple relocated, the Third Prince instructed his devotees via a spirit-medium to welcome his friend — the datuk from Balestier — to the new premises. In both cases, the erection of shrines for these deities demonstrates how they were seen as both an integral part of the local community but still flexible and mobile enough to relocate when necessary.
Keramat and datuk veneration are prominent aspects of Chinese religion in Singapore, reflecting the island’s unique position at the crossroads of South, East, and Southeast Asia. Despite some no longer being active, the worship of Datuk Gong and keramat underscores the region’s multicultural interactions and religious practices. The integration of these elements into Chinese religion demonstrates the adaptability and inclusiveness of local traditions. Both Datuk Gong and keramat exemplify how Chinese communities in Singapore have embraced and respected the spiritual traditions of their neighbours, weaving a rich tapestry of shared cultural and religious practices.
Ini Indexs
It is challenging to define Chinese music in an immigrant indigenised society like Singapore. For the last seven centuries,1Chinese immigrants held on to close filial and familial ties with China, while their English-speaking counterparts gravitated towards Western influences, especially since Singapore was governed by the British East India Company from 1819. Understanding Singapore’s approach to music education is complex, largely in the way it is defined in educational policies regarding both curricular and extracurricular settings, as well as in policies and practices regarding arts and culture.
Documents detailing the large-scale migration of southern Chinese from mainland China in the 19th century to Singapore point to the emergence of local traditions and practices (including the arts) among the community, who continued to maintain ties with mainland China.2Singapore’s political landscape underwent numerous shifts — from British rule, to the Japanese occupation (1942–1945), back to British colonial status again, before attaining self-governance in 1959 and eventually political independence in 1965. These transitions complicated identity formation and led to the emergence of two distinct Chinese communities: localised Chinese communities who kept in touch with their Chinese roots, and English-speaking communities who were influenced by non-mainland Chinese traditions and practices. The former community mainly attended Chinese-medium schools in Singapore, whose textbooks and curriculum included folk songs/folk music. They were largely supported by government aid, as well as donations and resources from clan associations and philanthropists.3
After the Japanese Occupation, the China Song, Dance and Drama Company participated in a large-scale event (loosely translated as the “Thousand People Picnic”) in 1947, organised by the students of Chinese High School and Chung Cheng High School. They performed songs such as “Yellow River”, “Ode to Nanda (Nanyang University)”, “Rubber Plantation, Our Mother”, and “My Homeland is a Mountain of a Thousand Treasures”, which continued to resonate with listeners until the early 1960s.4From the 1950s, the proliferation of these folk tunes led to the formation of a new type of Chinese orchestra in post-World War II Singapore.
Chinese orchestras in Singapore began to incorporate local elements into their performances as early as the 1960s. For instance, in 1968, the People’s Association Cultural Troupe presented a fusion of Chinese and Western instruments alongside performances by arts and culture groups from diverse local communities.5
Many students began to learn and perform this form of new Chinese orchestral music despite a lack of instruments, formal structure, family background, musicians, and resources. Chinese orchestral music was also broadcasted alongside popular music on Rediffusion Singapore,6 the country’s first cable-transmitted, commercial radio station, to reach a larger audience within the local Chinese community. Getai troupes like Man Jiang Hong, Shangri-La, New Nightclub, Feng Feng Song and Dance Troupe, Broadway, and the famous Zhang Lai Lai Song and Dance Troupe were all well-received by audiences at the New World Amusement Park.7
The trio of amusement parks — New World, Great World, and Gay World (formerly Happy World) — were key venues in Singapore’s thriving nightlife scene in the 1950s. They hosted contemporary popular dance crazes such as cha-cha, rumba, tango, and more, which were accompanied by live band performances. These became the hallmark of local entertainment for the Chinese community in Singapore. At that time, popular singers, the “stars of those days”, such as Huang Qing Yuan and Chin Whai were known in the 1950s and 1960s for their rendition of ballads. Rita Chao was known for her Agogo style singing while Sakura Ting was well known for yodelling in some of her ‘country’ style, western songs, apart from her already large on-screen reputation. Sakura Ting had an international appeal in Hong Kong and Indonesia. Poon Sow Keng yodelled as well while Zhang Xiao Ying’s focus was more ballads and other slower tempo songs which made her more popular in the late 70s and early 80s.
Alongside Chinese orchestral traditions and popular music, two uniquely Singaporean expressions of folk music genres emerged. The first was shiyue,8 which was similar to the art song in Euro-American traditions. Pan Cheng Lui and Zhang Fan were the two most well-known figures in the scene while they were still studying at Nanyang University’s (which was located at the present site of Nanyang Technological University) Faculty of Arts and Humanities. As members of the Chinese Poetry Club, they translated their poems into songs accompanied by the guitar. Over time, the demands of work and other commitments, as well as the intensity of their creative endeavours, caused shiyue practitioners to gradually fade from the spotlight.
Xinyao, the second genre, emerged with shiyue and gained prominence as not just a unique expression of Singapore Chinese identity, but also a product of creativity from local youth for whom Mandarin was their first language.9This coincided with a seismic shift towards a concerted and larger-scale production of local drama series in Mandarin based on Singaporean experiences, such as National Service (The Army Series, 1983), the Japanese Occupation (The Awakening, 1984), and the quintessential local coffee shop (Kopi-O/The Coffeeshop, 1985).
While xinyao’s prominence may have been influenced by the growing use of Mandarin as a unifying language within the local Chinese community, it also undeniably consolidated the place of local Chinese music in Singapore’s new wave of television drama series. During the 1980s, brothers Lee Wei Song and Lee Si Song, despite their tangential connections with xinyao, wrote several theme songs for a fledgling local Mandarin drama series supported by the Singapore Broadcasting Corporation (now known as Mediacorp). That era marked xinyao’s heyday, characterised by numerous album releases and a strong presence in public spaces like community clubs. One of xinyao’s most prolific pioneers, Liang Wern Fook, was awarded the Cultural Medallion in 2010, Singapore’s highest artistic accolade.
From 1959, Singapore’s Ministry of Education initially positioned music as a peripheral subject outside of the core curriculum, as alternative to art and handwork on Saturday mornings or outside school hours. Its stance later evolved, and music was promoted as an avenue for community bonding and engagement. Efforts both within and outside the core curriculum, on top of initiatives by the Ministry of Culture, sought to strengthen inclusivity across communities in Singapore, despite challenges like a shortage of teachers or educational resources. When the bilingual policy was introduced in 1966, second-language teachers (now known as Mother Tongue teachers) were encouraged to also teach music and familiarise themselves with musical repertoire and resources, with the intention of fostering greater inclusivity in the classroom settings.10
The Ministry of Education organised its first Singapore Youth Festival on 18 July 1967, with the aim of providing opportunities for children from different communities to sing and dance together. Separately, the newly established National Theatre Choir held its inaugural concert in 1968. A recording of its performance later sold out in record time, attesting to the quality and appeal of performing Chinese songs. A singing competition organised in the same year by Radio Television Singapura lasted for almost six months, establishing a close network of Chinese choir leaders and singers. Even after the competition was discontinued, singers from these Chinese choirs continued to collaborate on joint concerts to sustain interest in Chinese songs.
Another significant initiative to promote Chinese music was the Chinese Music Festival organised by the Ministry of Culture, which played a crucial role in fostering a shared sense of identity among Chinese musicians in Singapore and promoting artistic excellence. The festival featured a variety of musical styles and traditions, including Chinese classical and folk music. Consequently, musicians who performed there were often invited to set up school Chinese orchestras, which then went on to participate in the annual Singapore Youth Festival starting in the 1980s. The growth and development of Chinese music among students, musicians, and audiences eventually laid the foundation for the establishment of the Singapore Chinese Orchestra in 1997.
Today, music education in public schools in Singapore promotes music, albeit peripherally, as a crucial social anchor for students with exposure to the diverse musical traditions in multicultural Singapore. Chinese music of all forms and genre — from Chinese instrumental ensembles, to Chinese orchestras, to Chinese popular music (most notably xinyao) — has become an integral part of Chinese music education in Singapore schools. Songs such as “The More We Get Together” (sung in Chinese), “Zao Qi Shang Xue Xiao” (Going to School), “Xiang Xin Wo Ba Xin Jia Po” (Believe in Me, Singapore), “Xi Shui Chang Liu” (Friendship Forever), “Xiao Ren Wu De Xin Sheng” (Voices from the Heart), and “Dui Shou” (Competitor) have gained recognition as national and community songs. Moreover, the 2023 General Music Programme syllabus forges direct connections between classroom music learning and key cultural institutions like the Esplanade, Singapore Chinese Orchestra, and Singapore Symphony Orchestra, with support from the National Arts Council – known as Performing-Arts Based Learning. In doing so, xinyao has regained prominence under the Teaching Living Legends programme at the Singapore Teachers Academy of the Arts, which aims to enhance the professional curriculum for music teachers in Singapore schools.
Any discussion of Singapore Chinese culture in the context of music education cannot ignore multiple interconnected themes, from music in Chinese street and staged opera accompanied by musical ensembles, to Chinese orchestral traditions, to the prevalence of Chinese popular music among the Chinese community, to the enduring significance of xinyao. Ultimately, understanding these different facets is an ongoing process of meaning-making.
Ini Indexs
Between 1978 and 1981, members of the Chinese Poetry Club at Nanyang University (Nantah) pioneered a performing art form known as shiyue (poetry-music). This creative movement seamlessly blended poetry with music. The Club’s members crafted original poems and transformed them into musical compositions. By integrating poetry with music, these members pioneered a unique form of artistic expression within Singapore’s Mandarin songwriting scene. In fact, some argue that shiyue served as the prelude to xinyao — a music genre comprising Mandarin ballads composed, written and performed by Singaporean youths.
The very first piece of shiyue, titled Gushi (The Story), was a collaboration between Nanyang University students Zhang Fan (also known as Ken Chang) and Pan Cheng Lui. According to Zhang, inspiration struck one day in 1978 in the middle of a history lecture on the An Lushan Rebellion in Tang dynasty China. Quite spontaneously, he asked Pan, who was seated next to him, for a poem on the spot. By the end of the lecture, the poem had been written and Zhang had also come up with a melody for it. He performed the song extempore, marking the start of the shiyue movement.1
In August that same year, the Chinese Poetry Club organised an exhibition at the Singapore Chinese Chamber of Commerce & Industry, showcasing a series of 10 shiyue compositions accompanied by live performances. In December, another shiyue showcase took place at the auditorium of Nanyang University’s Faculty of Arts. The 17 songs presented primarily captured the sentiments of being students at Nanyang University. Compositions such as Huishou (Waving Goodbye), Wuwai (Outside the House), and Hupan (Lakeside) resonated widely within campus.
In 1980, Nanyang University merged with the University of Singapore. Despite the fact that many members of the Chinese Poetry Club had graduated by then, their enthusiasm for promoting shiyue had not waned. In February 1980, these graduates collaborated with the Singapore Youth Association to organise the Eryue caolü (February Green) concert — the first ticketed shiyue event. That August, the Aljunied Literary and Translation Society was established by Chinese Poetry Club’s advisor Yeo Song Nian. In 1981, it organised the Siyue feng (April Wind) concert, featuring shiyue and contemporary folk songs. The lineup included shiyue singers as well as Johor Bahru’s Bai Zhuan Choir, led by Malaysian composer and educator Tan Hooi Song (1947–2008). Notably, the concert brought together trailblazing singers from Taiwan’s contemporary campus folk song movement — Yang Tzu-chun and Wu Chu-chu — to share the stage. Held at the then-Development Bank of Singapore’s auditorium in Shenton Way, musicians from three different cities presented a total of 23 songs, marking a significant cultural exchange in Singapore’s arts scene.
In February 1982, the Aljunied Literary and Translation Society organised an exhibition at the Singapore Conference Hall focusing on the histories of Chinese Literature in Singapore and Malaysia. After the exhibition, however, shiyue activities dwindled as its members graduated and entered the workforce. Many pursued careers related to writing, taking on roles in media and publishing, while others ventured into the field of education.
After years of silence, Aljunied Literary and Translation Society unveiled an album in July 1988 titled Qiyue liu huo (July, Season of Change). This event marked the very last public performance of shiyue, and cassette tapes were released based on the performance. Interestingly, the singers who participated in the album included not only core members of the shiyue movement but also the xinyao or Mandarin ballad artistes. Among them were Mu Zi, Mao Yu, and Dawn Yip (Ye Pei Fen), who was the champion of the local Mandarin singing competition television show, Chinese Talentime.
Several xinyao composers and singers have mentioned that they were not initially exposed to shiyue. However, tracing the development of shiyue and xinyao, it becomes apparent that there are intricate overlaps and interactions between these two musical genres. Some therefore consider shiyue to be the prelude to or the forerunner of xinyao.
Certain xinyao compositions embody a fusion of poetry and music — a distinctive characteristic of shiyue. Examples of such xinyao works include Wo du guo le tade jiuwo (I’ve Studied His Dimples) (lyrics by Chow Tse-tsung; music by Liang Wern Fook), and Meng hu (Lake of Dreams) (lyrics by Shen Wan Qing; music by Eric Moo). The convergence of shiyue and xinyao is also evident in the involvement of xinyao singers in the shiyue album Qiyue liu huo.
In July 1981, spurred by shiyue member Chew Wee Kai, the National Junior College hosted an inaugural event where students showcased their original songs. One notable performance was How Do I Tell You, performed by Dawn Gan (Yan Li Ming, 1963–2018). It was later chosen as the interlude song for local Chinese television drama The Flying Fish, covered by local singer Maggie Teng (Deng Miao Hua), cementing its status as one of the representative works of xinyao.
Members of the shiyue movement also enthusiastically supported the production and launch of xinyao albums. This was evident in the release of the first xinyao album, titled Mingtian 21 (Tomorrow we’ll be 21), in 1984, which was sponsored by Zhang Fan.
In May 2023, the Singapore Chinese Cultural Centre’s annual Cultural Extravaganza presented the original Mandarin musical theatre performance Ignite the Sun, produced and directed by theatre company Toy Factory Productions. The musical incorporated a myriad of shiyue works to narrate various stages in Nanyang University’s development from the 1950s to 1980s. Gaosu yangguang (Telling the Sunshine) is also the title of shiyue member Pan Cheng Lui’s first poetry collection in 1982.
Regardless of whether shiyue should be viewed as the “prelude” to xinyao, it is clear that both Mandarin musical genres, which were creative movements born out of the campus environment, are a crucial part of the development of Singapore’s musical history.
