Theatre Activists Conduct Social Experiment In Seremban To Mixed Results
LAST weekend, KL-based theatre group Siseni Production presented their work in collaboration with Negeri Sembilan collective .
To witness the performance, we dropped by The Place Studio (you can find toasted sandwiches for just RM2 on top of RM1 juiceboxes inside!) located on Dataran Sentral, Seremban.
It’s a bit of a tricky location; the simple, bare space is situated within walking distance from the state museum but lies adjacent to the road which connects Seremban to the city’s primary toll booth.
So, tucked away at the top floor of a shoplot in an awkward part of Seremban, a bunch of young men and women banded together to perform an experimental piece curiously titled The Fuad Stephens Murder Case.
Who on earth is Fuad Stephens?
Born Donald Aloysius Marmaduke Stephens, this man was the first Chief Minister of Sabah and one of few important people who brought Sabah into the Federation of Malaysia in 1963. During his second term as Chief Minister, he died in a plane crash.
Half british, quarter Japanese and quarter Kadazan, Donald Stephens converted to Islam in 1971 and became Mohammad Fuad Stephens, refusing to drop his surname.
Tun Fuad Stephens was the leader of the Kadazandusun tribe during Malaysia’s formative years.
His death has often been the source of speculation; it’s said that his power and great ambition would have eventually led him to becoming prime minister of Malaysia at some point. Consider that prior to the formation of Malaysia, Donald Stephens was the founder of the National Kadazan Organisation (UNKO).
What is The Fuad Stephens Murder Case?
The two part-performance was dubbed a social experiment, beginning with a twenty-minute scene focusing two captive men and ending with a question and answer session (some of which were recorded on video).
Running at roughly 20 minutes, the first part opens with two men slumped in a chair. They’ve forgotten their own identities and are scrambling to find an explanation for their environment
Trapped in a small room with invisible walls through which they can observe audience members watching, both men try to piece together an explanation. Every once in a while they get audience members to interact with them.
The name Fuad Stephens is assumed by one of the men, before he is suddenly anesthetised by his counterpart. A girl walks in and tells audience members that it was all part of an identity revamp for Fuad Stephens, undertaken by her company. She offers the same deal to audience members, and leaves.
Director Cech Adrea then comes out and it’s a question and answer session. We are given a few words on what the project was about and the floor was free to say anything they had in mind.
Where did things go wrong?
Cech stated that his main intent was to make people stop for a second to consider the possibility of swapped identities. In his explanations, he brought up the artwork used to promote iconic album Abbey Road. Things like this aren’t so far-fetched, he claimed. We’re not fully-convinced, however.
About twenty people were present — a pleasant number for a small-scale, independent effort held in the middle of torrential Seremban downpour. Bar three outspoken urban participants who came down from Kuala Lumpur, Seremban audiences were shy, seemingly confused. A number of them offstage and onstage) were theatre virgins too.
The entire team responded to questions from audiences in the second half.
In any case, the second part of the performance was largely a low-key affair until visiting designer Azzad Mahdzir started questioning Cech on the team’s preparation. Upon learning that the sole female actor only had two days to rehearse her monologue, Azzad demanded an explanation from Sisiseni.
You see, the main problem with The Fuad Stephens Murder Case wasn’t so much its premise or the fact that it felt like one large conspiracy theory disguised as a performance — its amateur cast struggled to pull through.
What did we learn from all of this?
From here sprouts a very important question: wasn’t it already commendable of Sisiseni to get the ball rolling with a performance piece like The Fuad Stephens Murder Case in a town like Seremban? Or was it more important for these young folk to do things right in order to avoid misrepresenting any form of theatre to paying audiences?
We’re split on this issue; on one hand we applaud Sisiseni and Waghihsan for reaching out to collaborate beyond Kuala Lumpur but on the other hand felt that if not careful, endeavours like this could put people off local theatre.
In a Seremban shoplot, Fuad Stephens is held hostage… at his own will?
The Fuad Stephens Murder Case was mainly a social experiment disguised as a murder mystery and this makes us a tad uncomfortable; Sisiseni even had audiences traveling interstate to watch a stage play.
Furthermore, it was true that the team could have used more preparation, even if their intent was merely to spark an idea.
We do however buy into their spirit; charging people a minimum of RM5 per entry was a very humble choice. Furthermore, staging anything in Seremban seems like a good move; the city hasn’t seen much thought-provoking live entertainment in recent years.
This November however heralded something of a performing arts boom for Seremban: the first week of the month saw Sabera Shaik‘s Masakini performing one of their trademark Wayang installments for two nights.
The Fuad Stephens Murder Case takes root from Afterlife Scandal, a Sisiseni production staged at Damansara Performing Arts Centre (DPAC) last year. In Afterlife Scandal, the lives and deaths of several key figures in history are observed and deductions are made.
Are Elvis and Michael Jackson still alive? Is today’s Paul McCartney merely an impostor? Did Fuad Stephens stage his own demise?
Perhaps not, it all sounds a bit far-fetched. It’s definitely intriguing though, we’ll give Sisiseni and Waghihsan that.
Bonus Section: Wh-wh-what is Waghihsan?
The most surprising revelation from the entire experience wasn’t so much the possibility of Fuad Stephens still walking among us, but the fact that Seremban actually has an active, independent art scene! Art collective Waghihsan for example is a manifestation of the city’s buzzing energy — they’re one of the most visible at the moment.
Waghihsan was established in June 2015.
Standing for ‘Warisan Buku Waris’, Waghihsan’s members are made up of youths from different backgrounds who feel the need for an alternative arts and culture scene in Negeri Sembilan. They’re still a small collective (I mean let’s be real, we’re talking about Seremban) but co-founder Hafizaira has hope.
“Surprisingly, penyertaan anak muda makin meningkat selepas beberapa ruang atau aktiviti seni dilakukan. Dan yang lebih menarik, setiap mereka yang hadir punya talent yang tersendiri dan seterusnya menyumbang pada scene di sini,” he informed us.
Case in point, 16-year old Melissa Muhd Kelvin, a student who took The Fuad Stephens Murder Case as an opportunity to practice her performing arts training to an audience.
Formed back in June this year, these guys may be new but they seem to know what they’re doing. On top of organising book discussions, open mic sessions, film screenings and workshops, they also have a pretty smashing logo!
Other art collectives currently operating within Seremban include Buku Jalanan Seremban, JK Studio Paroi, Sembilan Papan Selaju, AnangAfro dan Bazaar Blood Brothers.
All pictures courtesy of Cech Adrea of Sisiseni Production.
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