
Resonant work on ageing shows YY’s vision and true capabilities as a director given enough time and resources.
Time is a cruel mistress. Regardless of where we come from, it is the one thing we are all subject to, eventually resulting in death. But along the way, time also brings with it age, our bodies going through significant transformations at every stage of our life. Whether it’s the awkwardness of youth, the pain of natural bodily functions, past injuries coming back to haunt us, or the mind fading out, the hard truth is that change is something we all have to face up to, and learn to accept as we grow older.
In grappling with her own feelings towards age as she reaches the end of her 20s, theatremaker and director Sim Yan Ying ‘YY’ has produced pass·ages, a new, original work that employs a combination of dance and movement work, choreographed by Dapheny Chen, and dramatic scenes, written by Jean Tay. Marking YY’s ‘graduating’ showcase for her stint with Esplanade – Theatres on the Bay’s TRIP project, pass·ages addresses the changes our bodies go through at different stages in life, taking us on a journey that explores four women wrestling with these new realities, each one betrayed by their own body.

pass·ages adopts a thrust stage set-up, with the audience seated on three sides. The set, by Petrina Dawn Tan, comprises monolith-like screens in front of a cloud-like backdrop, like giant crumpled pieces of paper, perhaps reflecting rejected dreams and aspirations these women can no longer achieve in their lifetime. The set is entirely white, with just a few benches onstage, perhaps an indicator of purity and the chance to start anew from a blank page.
Ageing can often feel like a lonely process, and pass·ages reflects that in the way the story moves. We are first introduced to each of the four women’s situations – elderly Ching (Dana Lam) struggles with dementia in an old folks’ home; Shivani (Nirmala Seshadri) is a mature Bharatanatyam dancer looking to get her big break in the limelight; Ogy (Suhaili Safari) is trying for a child as her biological clock seems to be on the verge of expiration; and teenage Millie (Shanice Stanislaus) is dealing with a terminal illness that sees her entire life ahead of her brutally cut short.

Each of these women is staunch, stubborn and strong-willed, choosing isolation and to go at their challenges alone rather than to accept the help of others, as they each retreat into their own mindscapes. Frustrated at the limits of their bodies, each of them embarks on a personal journey as they reflect on their past and where they are today, and how the trajectory of their lives have been suddenly forced in a completely different direction. In short, pass·ages is a diverse exploration of grief and the process of acceptance, a process we are going through at every stage of our life, over and over again.
To that end, pass·ages offers a multitude of entry points for audience members to relate to the events and characters within it. There must be something in YY’s process that works, for all four performers are able and willing to showcase their vulnerabilities, a shred of sincerity present in each of their portrayals, that resonates throughout the entire theatre space. All four of the performers are effectively capitalising on their strengths: Dana, as Ching, evokes sympathy as she flits in and out of clarity, going into angry tirades at the new worker, while Nirmala, initially calm and collected as she addresses the audience and leads us in a meditation exercise, shows her serene facade crack when a meniscus tear prevents her from performing her full choreography, a less than a week before the show.

Shanice brings a youthful energy to her role – her words sound inane at times, like when she calculates how much junk food she has to cut out of her diet and how much she has to eat like a rabbit to extend her lifespan, but considering how long and rapid fire this monologue is, it’s impressible how she’s able to pull it off and endear her character to us. A particularly devastating scene towards the end sees her planning for her death with her mother, only to leave her frustrated and breaking down. But it is Suhaili who does the heaviest lifting in terms of acting, her character often weighed down by the pressures of society, while dealing with the physical pain of IVF, recalling how much she detested her own body for how ‘dirty’ her periods made her, and the devastation that comes with constantly feeling like she’s never enough.
These scenes are interspersed with interpretive dance and movements, and rather than what most physical theatre pieces fall prey to, where such choreography is often abstract and feels too distant from the main storyline Dapheny Chen has helped pass·ages imbue these movements with purpose. Individually, we see them move in accordance with their characters – Dana looking as if she’s lost control of her body in her dementia, always attempting to find some kind of grounding before she’s whisked off again. Nirmala performing Bharatanatyam while the chanting and beats grow louder and more fervent, even falling suddenly at one point to reflect her injury. Shanice showcases a degree of precision in her arm and hand work, looking as if she has identified various pain points in her body, while Suhaili’s skirt billows out as she rushes from one side of the stage to another, spinning in confusion.

YY’s design team also puts in good work for pass·ages, where the projections by Genevieve Peck are aesthetically-pleasing, textured as they appear on the screens, from monochrome close-ups of blemished skin, to a diary-like video of snacks being crossed out and salads added when Millie thinks of all she has to give up, watery blue oceans as Ogy seems to be tossed from side to side in a nightmare. Jing Ng’s sound design often lets the characters speak first, and supporting them with music that enhances the mood without being overpowering, only taking the spotlight in characters’ silence, to fill us with the requisite emotion. And Gabriel Chan’s lighting also works wonders in this production, playing with light and shadow to create tension or the semblance of cars moving past rapidly.

Perhaps one of the hardest things for any play to do is to reach a satisfying conclusion, and YY and writer Jean Tay have achieved that, each character finding a hopeful, yet realistic way to close their narratives. For most of them, this involves giving in to change, and putting their egos aside to accept that they are not alone in this, making peace with the ‘death’ of their dreams. Often, this also means giving up on holding on to their original goals, and learning to adjust their expectations, most prominently seen from a scene in which Shivani recalls no longer being able to take a shortcut home due to the physical limits of her body, eventually making edits to her performance that allows her to perform safely.

Over the years, YY has been experimenting with form and narrative to varying degrees of success, whether it’s playing with live Zoom plays, or incorporating large degrees of dance and physical theatre into her work, always finding new collaborators and talent to shine the spotlight on, no fear and always bold with her willingness to try new things. With pass·ages, it feels as if she has finally come into her own as an artist, and elevated these experimentations into a clear directorial vision. There is so much care that goes into this work, cohesive and feeling like a joint effort from both cast and creatives involved, with YY as overall curator and director weaving it all together, a full representation of her abilities and process on view for all to see, once given enough time and resources to develop it.
In Singapore’s fast-paced arts scene with a focus on churning out production after production, rarely do artists get the chance to really sit with a work and allow it to breathe and grow at the right pace. But with pass·ages, you are left comforted in feeling like this is a full and complete work, where so much care and love has gone into crafting this world it immerses you in. Youth is fleeting, and life unpredictable, but we are left empowered in knowing that we do not live for anyone besides ourselves, and less afraid in knowing that we are all on this journey together. In its final scene, light falls on Dana, splitting her shadow into multiple silhouettes, perhaps representing the multitudes we each contain, and reminding us that as much as change often comes unwillingly, we are capable of changing, as long as we are enough for ourselves.

Photos by Crispian Chan, courtesy of Esplanade – Theatres on the Bay
pass·ages plays from 12th to 14th April 2024, at the Esplanade Theatre Studio. Tickets available here Find out more about TRIP here
Production Credits:
| Conceptualiser, Director & Script Editor Sim Yan Ying “YY” Writer Jean Tay Choreographer Dapheny Chen Performers Dana Lam , Nirmala Seshadri, Shanice Stanislaus, Suhaili Safari Dramaturg Nidya Shanthini Manokara Set Designer Petrina Dawn Tan Lighting Designer Gabriel Chan Sound Artist & Composer Jing Ng Projection Designer Genevieve Peck Costume Designer Sim Yan Ying “YY” Costume Coordinator Loo An Ni Production Manager Lam Dan Fong (The Backstage Affair) Production Coordinator Cheow Jiong Ling (The Backstage Affair) Stage Manager Carolene Ruth Liew (The Backstage Affair) Assistant Stage Manager Wann Nurul Asyiqin Bte Rahim (The Backstage Affair) |

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