On the growing movement of embracing one’s cultural background and manifesting it through fashion and art in recent years

“Our identities are what make us special. It acts as a distinctive trait and because of the deep understanding and intimate relationship we have with it, the possibilities for exploration are limitless. We cannot be accused of appropriating our own culture – it is ours and it’s up to us how we identify with it. I don’t think that the works with a strong cultural narrative that are coming out these days are necessarily related to or are a response to something happening in Singapore specifically.

Instead, I get the impression that we are simply discovering more about ourselves and looking into whatever we have as inspiration to create – and it’s about time. We tend to look far and outwards for inspiration, but we’ve actually got a lot to work with right here.”

On why brown representation is having a major moment in art and fashion now

“I don’t like to think of whatever I create as part of a specific movement. When I created Children of the Soil, I didn’t start out with a movement in mind, or the desire to prove my abilities and creativity as a brown creative. I just wanted to produce a piece of work that I felt would do my culture justice, because I think the fashion world could do more than perceive Malayness from just batik cloth or a brown-coloured person in their traditional costume.

Maybe this has to do with how we learn culture in Singapore in our tender years – through baju kurung, kueh, traditional instruments and games. This is a superficial understanding of one’s culture. There are so many layers and this applies to all cultures, of course.”

On the symbolism used in the film

“The film depicts an individual in a state of conscious and subconscious contemplation on how he identifies with what’s popularly known as the three pillars of Malayness: language, royalty and religion. There were three main areas of reference in the creation of the film: transcripts on Malayness (reports and books that observed and investigated the cultural presence of Malays in Singapore through the years); religious scriptures and texts; and Latiff Mohidin’s Pago Pago series (the Malaysian painter’s most famous works created between 1960 and 1969, which were recognised for how they challenged the idea of modernism that was perceived to be Western at the time).

Visuals were then created based on my interpretation of these, as well as personal philosophies developed from lived experiences as an individual who identifies as Malay. Essentially through this short film, I am reclaiming my Malay identity, forming my own visual language to relay the story.”

On the symbolism used in the film

“In this film, I would say that the direct or most ‘obvious’ symbol of Malayness lies in the garments worn and the materials they are made of. The next most prominent cue would be ones that aren’t visual – the audio used. Aside from a Malay-language script, the auditory experience in the film is exclusively curated and extracted from local Malay films in the ’60s. The editing (although it may come across as slow) is intentionally made to imitate a ’60s Malay film.

There is more to the expression of the Malay identity than simple symbols or mediums at face value. In this case, fashion plays a supporting role in the relaying of the intended message. It comes to show that when one chooses to explore culture, they are bringing themselves into this complex world of deep, meaningful history. This understanding should come with the donning of a cultural costume or an outfit that is made out of a material with cultural heritage. It is a sacred product and act. It adds value to comprehending culture.”

On how she integrated fashion and clothing into the film

“A disclaimer: Children of the Soil might not necessarily classify as a fashion film, and that’s also because it was never intended to be one. Rather, it’s an experimental short film that’s informed by fashion and material culture… My thesis investigated the roles of dress and how it – along with script and imagery – was used to carry out intended narratives in the Malay films produced in Singapore in the 1960s.

Relating this back to my film, I used three key fabrics for costumes: batik, pelikat and songket. These are the materials I feel are most relevant, commonly used to signify the Malay population specific to Singapore. Textiles are an integral part of Malay culture, playing a central role in life-cycle rituals and daily life. It is so meaningful to the Malay culture that some fabrics have inspired literary epics, poetry and prose.

On how she integrated fashion and clothing into the film

“It would be fair to assume that batik is one of the most popularised ‘Malay’ fabrics in Singapore. Its many designs, colours and lightweight-ness have resulted in it being a commonly sought material when designing garments that represent the Malay culture.

The types of colours present in batik often hint at where it is being made. For example, Malaysian batik is mainly bright yellow, red, blue and green in contrast to those from Java which are usually of a subdued palette of brown, indigo blue, black and cream. Javanese batik also possesses geometric designs. In Children of The Soil, Javanese batik was particularly used in costume styling in connection with my Javanese roots.

The name ‘pelikat’ is naturally affiliated to Malay plaids that are prominent in the designs of these fabrics. Pelikat fabric is usually used in the form of a sarong. The sarong is an essential component of formalised Malay ethnic wear as well as everyday dress. The sarong multifunctionality and common use in Malay heritage allowed for it to be used in both costume and set design in the film.

Songket is known as the ‘golden cloth’ among Malays. The fabric has various patterns and motifs that represent flora, fauna and the cosmos. Its designs are reflective of the environment and cultural ties of its weavers. Exuding luxury and regality, it is a popular choice for weddings and formal functions. Songket was my chosen fabric when creating costumes in collaboration with (emerging fashion designer) Samuel Xun, mainly due to the desire to emanate such opulence and value of songket vis-a-vis the Malay identity.”

On putting together the cast for the film

“The casting for the film came rather naturally. It was a collaboration with individuals I’m happy to call friends in the industry and some of whom I’ve only met and worked with for the first time. With the deep meaning that the film brings, it was important to me that everyone involved could resonate with the project in some way.

The main role was played by a freelance model and my dear friend, Rifqi Abdat. I knew I wanted him for the role from the very beginning and was thrilled when he agreed to it. We’ve worked together a couple of times on other projects, and were familiar with each other’s working styles.

The dancers in the film – Artiqa Faryaini, Putri Irzatol and Alwydia – are contemporary and traditional Malay dancers. It was an absolute pleasure working for the first time with Artiqa. We investigated Malay classical dances such as the Mak Yong, Layang Emas and Zapin. We observed the evolution of Malay dance throughout the years of Singapore’s rapid growth and how the evolution of music came hand in hand with the changes we observe in dance. Artiqa was part of a movement herself, she believed in the possibilities of incorporating traditional dance moves with contemporary ones – which is an opinion often rejected by traditionalists in the dance scene.”

On the existence of the Malay gaze

“(It’s both) yes and no. Perhaps it depends on how one perceives a film or work of art at face value. Some might suggest that Children of the Soil is a product of the Malay gaze and I wouldn’t object to it. This would actually bring us back to the main objective of my project: shedding light on the obscured histories that make up the Malay identity.

This project is not an exclusive movement nor is it a film for the same set of eyes. It also calls forth those who seek to understand the concept of Malayness beyond assumed narratives surrounding it, that are usually taken at face value.”

On other must-know local artists and creatives addressing notions of race, identity and history in their work

“Local fashion designer Mazri Ismail has worked on many conceptualised shoots featuring batik as a medium for styling. There was a particular series he shot with drag queens from the House of Miss Joaquim, through which he explored a very controversial topic connected to the LGBTQ+ movement, which is one of my favourites.

There’s Kribo Records, a record label in Geylang focusing on classical funk and soul from Asia that its founders refer to as ‘Sounds of Lecak’. I’m late to the party having just discovered its music early this year, but I am obsessed with its productions. They get your groove on and I love how they incorporate traditional Malay music instruments – listen to Inang Bo Tinang by Hail Atan & Rebana Funk Brothers. The music that Kribo Records puts out feels like a revival of the Malay music scene that thrived in the ’60s.

And there’s (multi-disciplinary creative) Fairuz Jaafar – I love his poetry and think he’s brilliant. He has two self-published zines that everyone should check out.”

A version of this article first appeared in the November 2021 Crazy Cool Asia edition of FEMALE