Randomity

So I officially become a student of NUS tomorrow. Tomorrow I am one step further away from Cambridge. And when I sign the scholarship papers next month, I might as well wave goodbye to undergraduate studies in the UK. My lit teachers find it a little strange that I would settle with lit in NUS (other lit potentials went straight for law if they didn't get UK). I thought of Law, but I decided my interest wouldn't last four years, even though law would be more useful. I know what it was like studying disinterestedly (got a B), so won't risk it. I shall be content to know I have done perhaps 10% of the reading required for my course already, since I have read so many books by dead white writers. I'll have to get round to reading the live, unwhite writers too, but their writing tends to be more political than artistic. I dislike art that is enmeshed in political motives. The most dominant tone is one of anger, or barely suppressed cynicism; there is no subtlety and often a great deal of angstiness about sexuality (think God Of Small Things, and all the gay lit Singaporean writers come up with). I like the old stuff because the characters had identities which clashed with interesting results. The newer stuff is all about determining identity--sexual, racial, etc. Sheesh.

Life so far is very unhappening. I play tennis every other day. Yesterday I was on gym duty since it was girl's night. The gym is brand new and loaded with equipment. It has a whole series of Nautical and Freemotion machines to work out every muscle group possible. I used the treadmill for a while. Though it is less strenuous on the knees than pounding on concrete, I still don't really like the feel of it. For one, intensive running makes me breath more quickly, and the air-conditioning makes my throat dry. Then, when I get off the treadmill, I get motion sickness! I like the ab machines and the leg press. I try not to work out my arms as they seem to balloon at an alarming rate. I only gym once a week and play max 6 hours of tennis a week, but I have developed a bit of bicep. Eew....afterds I start looking 'man,' then how? haha. but that's not going to stop me. I realise I like running around playing games and making myself tired. I feel a lot better and don't get depressed so easily. Not like last year, I was constantly tired. I think I shall try to go for more morning jogs.

I bought new shoes (Nike Slat trainers) and, being the geek that I am, googled them. They have a new design for ultimate breathability (good for ppl with stinky feet problems) and good support for sideways movement, supposedly. Well, after a few wears, I find that it's quite true. It's my first Nike. I usually go for Reebok, but I thought I'd try something new. I hope it lasts. Most of my friends's Nike and Adidas shoes fell apart very quickly last year. Perhaps something to do with the glue they use. It's always the tip of the rubber sole that comes off first.

In the process, I found a few cool new geek words, like overpronation and underpronation. To pronate is to rotate towards a centre (medial) line. For instance, one may pronate one's hand by turning the palm inward and down. Overpronation in the feet is when you walk and rotate inwards too much on your heel-to-toe movement, so that your wieght is not distributed evenly. Instead, the ball of your foot takes the strain. This can cause injuries like microtears in the tissue of your sole. To underpronate is the exact opposite: you rotate outwards and the weight is distributed more heavily on the outside of your sole (i.e in line with the little toe). (Source: Merriam-Webster medical dictionary)

Yes, it was worth 200 dollars to watch King Lear at the Esplanade. It was a harrowing performance (though I was not as moved by the play as I am by Hamlet, particularly Kenneth Branagh's version). Mr. Mckellen was so dynamic and forceful as King Lear that he at times overshadowed the rest of the cast, especially poor Cordelia whose voice seemed a little hoarse after the previous two nights' performances. Yet perhaps it was needful for the tragedy's title role to be so. The audience was absorbed into feeling the magnitude of his tragedy, so harsh a punishment for mankind's folly.


Mckellen looked bewildered when the audience gave him a standing ovation (I had to stand up too because I couldn't see). They really appreciated the play and the performance. I think the other cast members deserved a stand too, they were so good, but people really only know Mckellen because he played Gandalf and Magneto. Oh so sad. But I can't deny that he puts a level of energy and emotion into the character that you don't see in many actors. I admire his control, for in playing the mad king perhaps one of the most challenging things is getting into Lear's pattern of witless, violent energy alternating with the pathetic, feeble realisation of just what--and who--he has lost.

Oh, forgot to mention...the play is set in 19th century Russia--the costumes were a blend of Cossack and European, I think. The men wore high-waisted breeches and had round Cossack fur caps, with white shirts predominant. Lear had a red military jacket (something like the above, but ankle-length). The women wore corset gowns with overcoats. I reckon Trevor Nunn just thought he would stick with the Russian theme, since he was also running Chekov's "The Seagulls" at the same time.

The set rivalled the costumes for attention to detail. T. Nunn and his artistic team do not leave anything out. As most of the action in the first half occured in the King's palace and other royal abodes, the balcony had red velvet drapes. These were dramatically dropped as intermission began, as if to signify a darker, more primitive phase in the play with Lear's incipient madness. The lighting, too, progressed from a bright to a dismal, sickly yellow, brightening again to dizzying white flashes in the storm scene.

Unfortunately I was not in a very sympathetic mood during the play. Once upon a time, Gloucestor's despairing cry, "As flies to wanton boys are we to the gods; they kill us for their sport," would have provoked a shudder, evoked a feeling of abandonment or the sense that lives' tragedies' are incomprehensible at best and unlivable at worst.

All in all I had a lovely time. Managed to catch the last train back, too.