TODAYonline

A true vault of our collective memory?

National Museum has crucial function to fulfil beyond being an F&B outlet

Kog Yue Choong

THE National Museum of Singapore (picture) closed its doors for three years to remake itself.

For some, expectations ran high when the museum reopened in December 2006, at more than twice its original size and with a new look widely publicised because of the competition organised to select its new design.

Yet, little has been said since of the spanking new look, which does not seem to augur well considering the time and effort put into its "refurbishment and reinvention", in the museum's own words.

After all, one remembers how The Esplanade's shape and design invited debate and discussion for at least a year.

Remember the cries of "It's a papaya; it's a seashell; no, it's a durian"? Even the pronunciation of "Esplanade" was a talking point for quite a while.

The revamped National Museum certainly makes an impression on first-time visitors — the staircase entrance has no railings or elderly-friendly aids to mount the steps. Was this out of a reluctance on the designers' part to spoil the "original" colonial look?

My mother clung to me as she painfully ascended and later descended those stairs.

Perhaps, the museum is striving to define a role for itself given that in the time it was closed, the Asian Civilisations Museum and Singapore Art Museum had established their own niche identities. Indeed, the organisation of the national museum's interior seems to suggest an ongoing identity struggle.

The swinging chandeliers in one part of the museum seem out of a theme park, reminiscent somewhat of Disney's Haunted Mansion. The fact that it houses three restaurants in addition to a souvenir shop reminds one of The Esplanade's bid to generate revenue through retail and restaurant outlets.

Space was allocated for the performing arts and when we visited, a Greek play was on the bill. One of the exhibitions we viewed, on Cantonese opera, was dominated by costumes — it came across as a new, well-stocked boutique for opera-singer wannabes.

I wonder what has happened to the collective memory of the peoples, of which a national museum is supposed to be the custodian?

For example, why not have an exhibition on the street operas of the early days, featuring donated costumes worn by performers who were well-loved by Singaporeans then?

Wouldn't it be nice to include displays on the musical instruments, stages, festivities and street life associated with these street operas?

Such performances were of stories popular with ordinary Chinese Singaporeans — about love, loyalty and betrayal, patriotism, success at the civil examinations and the journey from rags to riches. Such tales even found their way to the Rediffusion airwaves, enacted by solo performers well-known to the different dialect groups.

Reflecting these stories could have enriched the exhibition beyond simply a display of what the opera actors had worn. Pictures of great performances would have helped visitors visualise this great bygone era and better appreciate its poignant decline.

The whole endeavour of a national museum should be to recapture life experiences as they mattered to Singaporeans in the past and make them magical for today's generation.

For example, who remembers how dedicated housewives and usually-meticulous housekeepers would abandon home and children to watch the street operas?

Perhaps, it is hoping for too much to imagine a community effort — involving museum, performing troupes, memorabilia collectors and fans — to restage such an exhibition.

But I, for one, would look forward to a museum that can be an official repository of Singapore's history as well as serve as a more vivid link between the past and present.

For instance, given the great importance of the country's port to its economic development, it could collate a comprehensive database of research and documents from all around the world — so that anyone wishing to find out more about the port city of Singapore in its colonial days could turn here.

This would also be a museum for learning about the past through experience — visual, aural, tactile and more — a mission, I dare say, that has little to do with the amount of retail or eatery space under its roof.

The writer is an engineering consultant in private practice.