The first time I heard Shadowcatcher by Robert Casteels was when I have yet to join SYC and was scrolling through their YouTube channel, chancing upon a video which showcased the song itself.

Shadowcatcher Shadowcatcher urban-shaman

Simply paint my shadow white and make me someone.

It was one of the songs that caught my attention and its tune was etched in my mind. The words in the song made no sense because I didn’t know the context of the song. This song even has a rapper and I was dumbfounded. I didn’t know that choral songs could involve a rapper. How does one compose a choral song with a rapper? What a revelation! This is such an interesting fusion because we mostly listen to rappers in modern pop songs accompanied by a back track and here we are, finding a rapper in a choral piece! Instead of pop music, the choristers are now the ones who readily provide the ‘background track’ giving this piece a sort of unique ambience. Pretty cool huh!

As I listened to the YouTube recording, I imagined the amount of work that had to be done and wondered how they pulled this off. The video showed parts of the score as the members sang the piece. There were also claps, snaps, and chants whilst singing was in progress. The coordination of speaking in rhythm as well as making the different parts of the song respond to each other was amazing. Words the rapper had skillfully articulated were re-sung by the choristers moments later, not only making it rhythmically catchy and pleasing to the ear, but emphasising the words and shaping the character and imagery of the piece.

No hit no catch no match

So go and get the torch

Hey we need to scorch

Hey we need to scorch

The shadows of your mind…

Catch, march, torch, hey need to scorch

Now as a member of SYCES, I have a chance to be exposed to many different types of music, and interestingly enough, the choir recently picked up Shadowcatcher once more. Although the music of the piece remained similar, this score was actually an updated version of the Shadowcatcher that I watched and listened to on YouTube. As I held the score in my hands and started flipping through this complex piece of music, flashbacks of what I heard and saw on YouTube filled my head and I was so excited to give this piece a shot! There were fun and interesting parts to the song such as singing the words “monkey” and “donkey”, which made me ask myself: “What am I actually singing?” and “What do these words mean?”

Thin and fat and lean and mean all forming a black meltdown

Black on white black on white say it right and be forthright

Black Black White White Meltdown.

Since the music was not in any fixed key, getting the notes and the interval jumps were tough initially. With tuning forks in everyone’s hands, we tried our best to get the notes. It was only after observing patterns were we able to piece the entire song together.

Another challenging and sometimes scary bit of the song would be how fast paced it is! With so many things going on, you have got to be on your toes when singing this piece. Subdivisions:“1 and 2 and 1e and a 2e and a…”, tuning fork ready, take your note from others, re-tune. Entry! And… cut! Wait for the call; respond! Count count count. Whenever this song was being rehearsed, there would always be a little tension in the air because we all understand the stamina as well as amount of effort needed in perfecting the music (so thrilling!). When everybody’s hard work and concentration is pumped into singing this song, magic happens. We all know how piecing a 1000 piece jigsaw puzzle feels like: the end result is a beautiful picture which could only formed from piecing the puzzle together, giving us a sense of satisfaction and accomplishment, kind of how I felt when we completed the song!

Sha-dow cat-cher Shadowcatcher (spoken in rhythm =166)

I think at the end of the day, this piece has taught me that when we embark on a challenge, the start is not going to be easy, but it is this mindset of thinking it is too tough for us that we must be able to get rid of in order for us to progress. Once we bear the correct mindset, constant familiarizing as well as hard work is what we need to make things possible. With that, I’m looking forward to conquering more challenging pieces in future!

Let us continue to catch shadows.


HEY there again, SMUCC!

It’s time once more for SMU Chamber Choir’s annual concert, Wrinkles in the Air! This is the 4th Wrinkles concert that SYC has been invited to as guest performers, and I am so looking forward to performing with the cheerful members of the choir again: To meet new friends, catch up with old ones, and make beautiful music. Only a couple of Wrinkles ago, I had eagerly awaited (in much the same way) for the very first combined rehearsal – except back then, I was still an active member of SMU Chamber Choir. Many things raced through my mind: “Ooooo… I think they’re gonna sound awesomeeeee”, “Ok, focus focus, don’t make a dumb mistake later when you sing beside them”, “match their voice, match their voice match their voice…”. That practice had turned out well, and the Wrinkles in the Air concert for that year was a stunning success. Now, I’m an active member of SYC Ensemble Singers, and the first combined rehearsal with SMU Chamber Choir went great too (though we will still need to do some cleaning up to make the music even more awesomeeeee). I was most delighted to see that my alma mater choir had grown and matured much further in the years since I graduated. I truly hope that Wrinkles in the Air, and all the many wonderful experiences as part of the SMU Chamber Choir, will continue to be an inspiration for them and all future batches of students to continue pursuing their love of music – just as it was the case for me. -Joseph


So recently I went for a talk on the wonders of meditation by a particular famous guru from India.

After having gone through a rather turbulent 20s, I seek to attain inner peace within as I welcome my big three-o this year. This explained why, being such a skeptic on religious and spiritual affairs, I went for the talk.

During the talk, the guru guided us through a 20-minute meditation session, and it was after that the realization struck me.

Actually, I have been going for weekly meditation sessions all along, for the past decade. As I step into the studio with a group of like-minded people twice a week, we start off by breathing and stretching exercises. That prepares our mind and body for meditation ‘training’.

And then meditation commences: we focus on making sounds, unifying those sounds, using our brains, minds and ears to do so, as we try to achieve a harmonious blend (well not the music, per se, but the ensemble-ship). We do all these at the same time. We train ourselves to be mindful of our own sound, of the sound made by the person beside us, and of the choir as a whole. Sometimes we get distracted and thrown off by a stray quartertone here, or a triplet out of place, flared tempers and emotional outbursts; but we will always find ourselves at the start of the practice again – focus on the music, sing with others, repeat this rehearsal after rehearsal.

On hindsight, singing with this choir has trained me well in keeping my focus, in being mindful of the moment, and appreciating the present. Sometimes I lose sight of these seemingly trivial concepts as I get carried away by the negative emotions that arise as a reflex reaction to everyday life and things. And coming to these weekly rehearsals, had helped me to remember and to train these skills, all of which I shall put in practice in my meditation outside of choir, in my life, and in the endless flow of moments in time.

And also, to carry me through the entire 90 minutes of Flood of Beauty.


Arty – Facts

  1. Background information: “Artifacts” was composed by Eric Banks for the SYC Ensemble Singers’ 50th Anniversary, and was premiered at THREE in December 2014.
  2. Method: from a body of poems that I had previously written, Eric selected lines/sections, and re-arranged them to create a libretto. He took as inspiration the 50 Artefacts for 50 Years series (in celebration also of the choir’s 50th anniversary), which you really need to check out here.
  3. Factoid: When I first posted on the blog, I wrote about the choir’s tour in Turin while nursing malicious earworms from Eric’s “Twelve Flowers”—a composition in 12 sections/movements with Japanese and English text sung concurrently, over, under, around each other.
  4. For the past year, we’ve done quite a bit of other music composed after poetry. Off the top of my head: “Sonnet 43” (Elizabeth Barrett Browning x Kelly Tang), “Nona Sensilia” (Joyce Koh x Edward Lear and his nonsense verse), “Life has…” (Sara Teasdale x Ivo Antognini, “My Song” and “When Thou Commandest” (Rabindranath Tagore x Vytautas Miškinis x 2), “Nightmare” (Angeline Yap x Leong Yoon Pin), “De Profundis” (Federico Garcia Lorca x John August Pamintuan), and the list goes on…
  5. “walk inside the poem’s room/ and feel the walls for a light switch,” wrote Billy Collins, of the ways to read a poem. Not long ago, Mingboon blogged about approaching a note as one might a door: knocking tentatively, hacking through it, lingering too long before it, and ultimately finding that every door is different. Every experience of music/poetry/art is transformative, and we reach for metaphors of space & architecture to reflect this.
  6. Learning to piece together “Artifacts” with other people: (1) yes, those were precarious days for my battered tuning fork, (2) sometimes it was like a slow debugging of the ear… or a gentle cleansing of one’s third eye (some chords, I guess, do that to you), (3) when all else fails, the only thing you can do is dance—and the same is true of most things in life.
  7. If you could cobble together a meal from the ingredients mentioned in “Artifacts”, here’s what you’ll get: salted fish, sweet cream on a butter biscuit, a biscuit soaked in rainwater (why am I so obsessed with biscuits? I don’t know), honey, and a salad of roses, reeds and fern fronds. Maybe you should order takeout instead.
  8. For posterity’s sake, here’s a photo of Eric and I demonstrating—quite successfully, in fact—the art of the Side-Hug:


— Samuel

Ramblings of a (new mummy) singer

This blog post (baby) took 9 months in the making…ok maybe a couple of weeks, the blog post, I mean.

The pieces that we pick up in the choir (The screams of a hungry and impatient baby).
Music to the ears of the beholder.

Having a newborn and singing in a choir sorta parallels Life =)

Dragging a tired body and mind to the SONG and MUSIC at choir rehearsals (twice weekly, over 12 years now. Wow. 12 already?), at the end of a challenging school / work/ day…

Can I still sing while preggy? What will the bodily (hormonal!!) changes do to my voice?
Trepidations aplenty. I remember…

feeling breathless singing within ONE bar

*breathe breathe. skip a couple of notes. Smile =) Sing. breathe breathe*

wondering if I’ll still fit into my choir uniform
looking like a hippo in a borrowed larger uniform
singing with the choir on stage at 7 months in *achievement unlocked!*


Soothing a seemingly inconsolable crying newborn (EVERY DAY) with SONG and MUSIC… Soothes so many raw nerves.

I recently re-discovered a stash of SYC concert recordings and dug out 2 of my favourites – Poverello (2004) & Dobrogosz Plays Dobrogosz (2011). Okay. I also put these 2 recordings on play and repeat and repeat mode because I was desperate to calm the newborn. Whatever works!

Some take lonely roads that never meet…
Some take long roads, some take hard roads…

Listening…humming along…singing along aloud (I remember the words to my parts and OTHER people’s parts!) soothes and even baby falls asleep more quickly and soundly. Hurray!! *Huge sigh of relief*

Lord I’m free… (when baby’s sleeping)…
Lord I’m free… (
when she’s fast asleep)…

The power of music. The magic of choral singing. Waiting for that opportunity to go back to singing with the group again.

Any way the wind blows…

Can’t wait for the day too when this little one embarks and explores her own musical journey

And they all come back to Thee.



If there ever is a word that can encompass what it means to be in a choir (and there are many other words I’m sure), that word would be “Together”. I know that sounds somewhat obvious and simplistic, but never underestimate this word. It is easier said (or written) than done. After being in SYC Ensemble Singers for 6 years, I can definitely attest to the fact that being ‘together’ is more than meets the eye.

Singing in a choir is about singing together. but what does that mean? Does it mean singing the same pitch, the same word, or the same dynamic with other people? Does it mean breathing at the same spots, inflecting at the same points of each phrase, and ending each word the same way? Or does it mean having the same tone, the same vowel sound, and the same resonance?

At times, I feel like the more I understand the concept of “Together”, the less I get it as well (I know it sounds contradictory…hear me out). Singing as a collective seems to be a constant process, of listening, of adjusting, of feeling. Whenever I figure out a way for me to sing together with my fellow choristers, I realise more things that need attention. It seems to me like an unending cycle of figuring things out, and of stretching our senses to understand the experience of singing.

As we prepare for our 50th Anniversary pre-tour concert ‘This Song of Mine’, I find myself going through the process of learning (and re-learning) what it means to sing together, so that we can sing the songs of Chinese tribes;so that we can bring forth the stillness of the lake; so that we can re-create sounds of the Basque country; so that our hearts can “break with pride”, and your hearts will be transported to “the verge of the unknown”.

So what does it mean to sing ‘together’? Well, the most important thing is to find out…together.

– Delin –

5(+1) Reasons Why SYCES is My Home. Truly.

Time sure flies by in a blink of an eye: It has been 7 years since I first joined SYCES. Still remember very clearly my date of entry: April Fool’s Day, 2007. “What has kept me so long within the choir?” – A question very often asked by people close to me. Well, let me reiterate the reasons again, but with a slightly different twist. I dedicate this Buzzworthy-esque blogpost to my fellow SYCES friends and also to all those in the choral fraternity. I am sure at least 1 of them will resonate with you guys. (:

1. I get to SING lots of awesome songs.


Fire songs? Count me in!

2. It brings me PLACES. Like, both locally and overseas.


Solfege in Arezzo, Italy


S Y C on the cobbled stone streets of Torino, Italy

3. I get to MEET and SING together with people from other countries.


It’s a Gaia, ACS & SYCES parteh! *\o/*

4. We are serious about our FOOD. Like, seriously.


Our usual after-concert pig-out at Lau Pa Sat. SATAY!! *drools*


How about a change of environment at Glutton’s Bay? STILL GOOD!

5. We love our WE-FIES! (or at least there are people willing to humour me)


Those were the days when selfie pods were unheard of, and actual selfies took a certain level of skill. xD

Bonus Point:

Did I mention that off-stage, we are just a crazy and fun-loving bunch of people at heart?


– songern –

Silent Miracles


The conductor gave her cues. The choir members opened their mouths. But instead of being greeted by intoxicating harmonies capped by delicious overtones, the entire Esplanade Recital Studio was immersed in sheer and utter silence.

The year was 2009 and the concert was “Birth and Death” – SYC’s contribution to “Spectrum”, a series that featured contemporary classical chamber music. While this wasn’t my first SYCES concert, this was the one that left the most lasting impression on me.

For their last number, SYC performed the 5th and final movement of Hoh Chung Shih’s eponymous work. Choir members quietly “sang” the characters “生” (shēng/birth/life) and “死” (sĭ/death) as their conductor Jen etched these words, slicing the air with her deliberate calligraphic strokes.

I was awed and left speechless. When a friend whom I later met asked me how the concert went, I said, “I honestly don’t know. I am unable to process what I just experienced.”

At that point, I couldn’t understand why SYC did not sing. I couldn’t understand why those characters had to be written in the thin, still air. I couldn’t understand why during the post-concert open forum, Jen earnestly shared that it took her some time to prepare herself to conduct the final movement. I remember that my mind was awash with questions that needed answering.

How could any piece involve that much preparation? How do you prepare for a silent piece? (How do you even decide to perform a silent piece?) How could performers sing in empty tones? How could a single performance put me in such a state of numbing confusion?

At that point, my stormy brain groped for answers to no avail. No previous experience could anchor me; no theory could shine a beacon of clarity. Drowning in this absence of meaning, I sank slowly and surely into silence and unease.

It took 4 years and another SYC concert before this silence was broken.

As I was watching their 2013 Christmas concert “Pagdiriwang”, I finally understood what silence meant. The choir had just premiered John Pamintuan’s “Nativitas” – a new composition employing Prudentius’ 4th century poem. The song had all the elements of a Pamintuan arrangement – syncopated counterpoints, masterful contrasts of simple and stacked chords, distinct yet connected thematic movements – all culminating in a triumphant, glorious ending.

However, at some point during the performance, time stopped and the moment felt extended. At some point during the performance, the choir was both singing and silent at the same time. At some point during the performance, there was no “I” and “them”, no “performers” and “audience”, no “sound” and “silence”. There was only a collective “we”, there was only the ever-present “now”.

This is the miracle of music and singing.

It is a miracle because singing is never about the past nor the future. It is never about fulfilling future expectations nor making up for previous mistakes. It is never about the artists nor the audience, but about everyone present, physically or theoretically, in that space and time. It is never about silence nor sound, but the silence from and sometimes even within sound.

I realised while watching Nativitas, I was witnessing the first of many births, the first of many miracles.

Every performance is a miracle not because it “was” nor it “will be”, but because it simply, purely “is”.

The 5th movement 4 years ago invited me to die from my notion of what choral music was – audible and probable; tonal and logical. It was an invitation to die to myself and be reborn – to restart my choral journey through sheets of songs, to explore worlds within works, to soar the lofty heights and plunge into the fathomless depths of the human spirit.

Lastly and most importantly, it was an invitation to celebrate the gift of silence –

The silence that invites us to die to our false notions and images, opening us up to new experiences and relationships

The silence that gives birth to skilful arrangements and moving renditions

The silence that precedes and pursues not only tearful sighs,

but also rapturous applause.

= = = = = = =

*Aldo finally found the courage to audition for SYC in Jan 2014 and has been learning, unlearning and journeying with the group since then. SYC will be performing at the all-Pamintuan choral festival, SingaFOUR: Maior Caritas IV, at the SCO Concert Hall on Sun 27 July 2014.

The Beginning of Something

Before I auditioned for SYC, I watched quite a few of the choir’s concerts. One, in particular, stands out in my mind: Black & White (March 2013). This concert was held in the Esplanade Recital Studio and the songs sung revolved around the paradoxes of life. True to the theme of the concert, I recall alternating between feeling intimidated and being pleasantly enveloped in warmth. There were songs that were cacophonic and strange with random mutterings and exclamations and there were songs with beautiful, haunting motifs.

I remember watching the choir in awe, completely taken in by the experience. I remember looking up at singers who seemed larger than life; an effect no doubt intensified by the intimacy of the space. And then I remember thinking how amazing it would be to sing and create music like that, music that had soul, that could make you feel so much.

I finally plucked up the courage to audition at the beginning of this year and June marks my fifth month with the choir. I can’t believe I’ll soon have spent half a year with the choir. It feels only like yesterday I was sitting at the back of the choir room waiting to audition. It’s been an amazing, thrilling and challenging journey so far.

I love that we sing all sorts of songs – songs that are beyond the spectrum of normal (O-rologica!), songs that are rhythmic and make you want to get up and dance, songs that make you ache, songs that you could close your eyes and feel lost in. And more than that, I love that the people who seem larger than life on stage are really down-to-earth and fun to be with and sing with. I’m so grateful to have their support, advice and encouragement.

Here’s to creating new friendships and great music! This is just the beginning.


Memos to self before a performance

It’s 8.10 PM. Stand in front of the monitor backstage. Watch the house lights fade into relative darkness. Watch the SMU Chamber Choir enter the concert hall, ascending the risers, flooding the stage with their deep cerulean-blue outfits. Observe (vaguely, through pixels) how the light plays on the stage. Feel your pulse quicken slightly when the pitch pipe is blown. Think about the note. Think about how it feels to be thinking about the note onstage.

A first beat is given. Hear male voices in unison singing what sounds like a medieval plainsong. Experience a vision of a rather damp monastery and a drowsy monk named Adso doodling on the margins of illuminated manuscript. Suddenly, the music is overcome by an exceedingly groovy rhythm. What is this amazing song, you ask a friend. It’s Arma Lucis by Jackson Berkey. Cool. Learn that this was the first piece he’s ever sung in a choir.

Walk around the large holding room. You’ve been here before, back in 2012 when you first joined the SYC Ensemble Singers. Nothing about this room has changed. Perhaps there are fewer chairs now. Think about Mostly Margutti (the concert ft. composer and conductor extraordinaire Corrado Margutti) and the atelier choir (you didn’t perform then, but helped out backstage) and the echo chamber of a stairwell between the dressing rooms and the holding area. Hear sopranos walking up the steep flights of steps.

Realise that the choir will be singing a composition by Corrado Margutti later—Dona Nobis Pacem. Rehearse, in your head, the flowing metre of Lorca’s poetry. Enough time will pass. Gather with everyone for silent warm ups. Dona Nobis Pacem: a prayer for peace, set to the idea of rain. Martial Arts: the theme for today’s warm ups. Huh. Nevermind, everyone has great fun making a terrible travesty out of iconic Bruce Lee fighting moves. Feel flushed. Stand still, letting the breath return to its usual measure of air.

10 minutes remaining. Get in position and walk to the stage door. Listen to them sing Seal Lullaby from where you stand. Do not fall into gentle slumber! Instead, think back to last year’s SMU Chamber Choir concert. Remember the people you sang beside. Remember the people you’re supposed to be standing beside this time! Grin at the new singers whom you will be performing with for the first time this evening.

Hear muffled applause through the thick walls. See the house lights enter the dim waiting area beside the doors. A crack of light becomes a walkway, a brief glimpse of the grand piano, footsteps on the wooden flooring.

Enter stage right.

– Samuel