Portrait of a disappearing community told with sincerity and creativity through documentary verbatim theatre.

Documentary and verbatim theatre can be a tricky genre to stage, requiring actors to embody and speak on the behalf of interviewees, rather than featuring them as in a documentary film. Particularly when it comes to marginalised groups, verbatim theatre runs the risk of bordering on appropriation, and even exploitation if these accounts and authentic words are not given proper treatment, at times exoticised or parodied rather than played straight. How then can a company do justice to such voices, while remaining an engaging piece of theatre?

The key to that seems to lie in honouring the creation process, at least according to Drama Box, with their new staging of Air. Presented as part of the Esplanade’s The Studios series 2024, Air is a verbatim theatre piece curated by Zulfadli Rashid from interviews with members of the Orang Seletar people, as they speak of their lives, their families, their daily struggles, and most of all, how all of it is set to disappear once they are relocated from the land they’ve occupied for generations. Co-directed by Adib Kosnan and Kok Heng Leun, Drama Box circumvents the potential problems of appropriation by truly committing to the documentary format, charting the team’s visit to Kampung Pasir Putih in February to conduct new interviews with the Orang Seletar, and immerse themselves in their lifestyle to better understand their experiences.

Staged at the Singtel Waterfront Theatre, Air can no longer afford the same amount of intimacy its original venue at the smaller Malay Heritage Centre in 2019, and instead opts to take on a very different approach towards its staging. Opting for a traverse stage, with audiences on either side of the set, set designer Mohd Fared Jainal  has decided on a tall, white, boat-like structure in the middle, almost like a solitary island in the sea. The actors in this case are literally elevated, and the Orang Seletar’s voices platformed and given greater visibility. In a way, Drama Box has also doubled down on the idea of distance, where rather than homing in on intimacy, the team have emphasised how far the Orang Seletar feel, drifting away, and us feeling that physical space between them, unable to do anything to help them.

The performance begins with actors Dalifah Shahril, Rizman Putra, Saiful Amri and Suhaili Safari getting into character, reading off scripts and smiling to themselves as they recall their interactions with their interviewees. Over the sound system, there are times the interviewees’ actual voices are heard over the actors’ own, and it seems almost as if it is a ritual, the give permission to allow the actors to play them onstage. The performance itself then slips in and out of documentary and verbatim, where we begin with the actors on a vehicle, making their way to Kampung Pasir Putih, charting their initial interactions with the Orang Seletar, before they eventually become and take on their voices, telling their stories and amplifying them through their performance.

Compared to the 2019 version, Air feels distinct, likely due to the change in focus and timespan where many of the stories now include reflections on a post COVID-19 world. There are a range of interviewees, ranging from the older generation who think back to how much change they’ve experienced over the years, to younger members of the community, wondering what their future holds and concerned with what it means to build a brighter future for their own children with the looming threat of displacement. Often, these are heavy, poignant anecdotes, such as a particularly affecting memory, as Dalifah Shahril’s character recalls her son drowning in the sea, or later on, how her boat drifts too close to Singapore, and coast guards who do not speak Malay begin to yell at her to stop, with her unable to respond.

Air however, also has brief moments of levity, such as Suhaili Safari’s character of the headman’s daughter, talking joyously about her children, while some of the most powerful moments in the play come out at the most unexpected times, such as when the Orang Seletar share their lifestyles with the audience, learning about their deep connection with the land, their own historic rituals, or simply sipping a drink while gathered, allowing us to see them as fellow human beings simply going about their lives, unfortunate collateral damage in the move towards progress and modernisation. As a whole, the cast work wonderfully well together, and while there aren’t many opportunities for them to interact (considering how the interviews are 1-1), there often feels like an unspoken sense of camaraderie between them, each one listening to each other even when not speaking, and silently acknowledging the shared sense of loss.

Lighting designer Emanorwatty Saleh and sound designer Tini Aliman also contribute immensely to the sense of immersion in Air, with the constant sounds of waves and other natural phenomena heard in the background, incidental noises and soft melodies that never overpower the main performance, instead supporting them by amping up the emotions, all while the stage is bathed in soft lighting that illuminates each actor just enough. There are times that there are bulbs swinging ever so slightly, casting faint orange glows over the entire performance area, or bright white light that emanates when the actors open up hidden compartments in the set, and makes us imagine changes in the time of day, or greater personal significance in these otherwise seemingly ordinary actions.

If anything, Air is incredibly ambitious in its reimagining of what verbatim theatre can be, one that we as audience members respect greatly and appreciate for how they’re changing the game and pushing the limits of possibility. This extends even to its surtitling, projected on the sides of the set, which often plays with overlapping words, and is mixed in with photography of the Orang Seletar people (by Jefree Bin Salim) and visuals of the natural environment (by multimedia designer Jevon Chandra). There are times this can feel overwhelming, with the already heavy amount of content further complicated by the rapid and unexpected transitions of the surtitling, at times even overlapping with other characters coming in, where it is not entirely clear who is saying what. It can often be hard to follow along, resulting in many rich details that are easily missed, but nonetheless, still speaks of a burning desire to experiment with form and presentation.

At the end of the performance, the cast have put up a fishing net around the perimeter of the performance space, almost as if they themselves are fish that have been caught in a net that they cannot escape from. Symbolic of the Orang Seletar’s own futile fight against their inevitable fate, there is a sense of defeat that spreads through the audience, as we realise that all of this that we have witnessed is likely to cease to exist in a matter of years. Time is running out for the Orang Seletar, and behind every joyous recount is a sadness behind their eyes, knowing life as they know it will be completely changed.

Yet as playwright Zulfadli Rashid states in the programme booklet – Air dicincang takkan putus – “You can try to chop water, it will never be severed.” The actors remove their costumes, revealing plain black clothing underneath, as they sit in silence on the trip back to Singapore. During the curtain call, Suhaili Safari addresses the audience with tears in her eyes, and her fellow castmates are clearly similarly affected, every memory from the trip and their interactions rushing back to them. Now that it is over – do we simply sit and leave them behind, or do we do something about it? Is there more we can do for the histories and cultures all around us that are in danger of disappearing too? The ball is in our court, as Air comes to a close, and we are left to wonder what we can and should save, while we still have time.

Photos by Crispian Chan, courtesy of Esplanade – Theatres on the Bay

AIR plays from 12th to 14th July 2024 at the Singtel Waterfront Theatre. Tickets available here

The Studios 2024 – Fault Lines runs from July to September 2024 at the Esplanade. Tickets and full programme available here

Production Credits:

Playwright Zulfadli Rashid  Co-directors Adib Kosnan & Kok Heng Leun  Dramaturg Charlene Rajendran  Performers Dalifah Shahril, Rizman Putra, Saiful Amri & Suhaili Safari Producer Jo Lim  Set Designer Mohd Fared Jainal   Lighting Designer Emanorwatty Saleh  Sound Designer & Live Performer Tini Aliman  Multimedia Designer Jevon Chandra  Costume Designer Max Tan  Researcher Ilya Katrinnada