*** We described it in the newspaper as "retirement". But it's really more of "resignation", right? Let me see if I got this right. You’re now 54 and were actually planning to retire by the time you hit 55 in October. But NUS had changed the retirement age to 62 so you just went “What the heck” and are now technically resigning after this school year because you can’t wait until 62. Yes, apparently, it’s the new retirement age. I was the only person who said, “Oh my god, this is gonna disrupt all my plans!” For a lot of people it’s a boon. But in my case, I’ve always wanted to travel when I turned 55. I’ve always wanted a nomadic life. My plan has always been, after I retire, I’ll be in Singapore from August to November because the theatre scene is very exciting during that period. November to about February or early March in Thailand during the cool season at the beach house. Then from March, I would go live in London till July – which is when the American tourists start descending in London and it gets quite impossible. I intend to do this for a number of years then ultimately decide which of the three places will be my primary abode. If I leave at 62, 65, I don’t think I’ll have the energy. What has been the reaction among your students past and present? The usual line that everyone’s spouting is “the end of an era”. No doubt when somebody leaves it’s a bit sad. But I also think it’s a good thing -- there will be an injection of new blood. (Then again), I stepped down ten years ago. People still get confused (and think I’m) running the programme. Let’s backtrack a bit for those who don’t know your background (which, considering you’ve been teaching for more than two decades, might be in the minority). How did you start out? I was a Literature and Drama graduate (in NUS). I went to Toronto to do my MA, then Exeter to do my PhD, then to Edinburgh to do my MSc in Cultural Policy because I wanted to do (both) the arts and the management side. In London, I also took up diplomas in Marketing, Advertising & Public Relations, and Wine Tasting. They sort of helped relieve the boredom of writing the PhD.  The wine tasting was during the years in London doing my Exeter. I was simultaneously completed three things – an advertising in PR and communications diploma, I did the wine tasting diploma too. It sort of helped relieved the boredom of writing the PhD. Those were the `80s. In 1990, I joined the NUS. For two years, I taught literature, the Romantics and the Victorians. The reason why people say I’m kinda important in the theatre scene has to do with the fact that I’m in that “cusp generation” between the first and second wave of practitioners. I’m probably the only survivor of that middling generation apart from (actor/former Substation AD/co-founder and director of Intercultural Theatre Institute) T. Sasitharan. Between the Max Le Blond, Chandra Lingam, Kuo Pao Kun “old school” and the “new school”, which would have been Ong Keng Sen, Alvin Tan, William Teo, Ekachai Uekrongtham, Haresh Sharma – all the ones who came out in the mid- and late `80s. Were you active in theatre scene before? I was very active. I helped revive the NUS Drama Society (during my student days). That’s how Sasi and I knew each other. It was dormant for a few years, so I started it. Sasi was one year my junior so I roped him in. That would be in the late `70s, early `80s. Let’s jump to 1992, when the Theatre Studies programme was set up. They decided it was time for a theatre programme. Max (Le Blond) had actually been pushing for one for the longest time. I came in as a lecturer and then I was put in charge in `92. We recruited an Australian and an American. In 2003, I stepped down and now, Yong Li Lan is the person in charge. I’m now just the backbencher. I thought, after 10 years, I wanted to do something else. And that’s when I channeled my attention to media, when I started doing Art Nation with Beatrice Chia (in Arts Central). But I was still teaching. What was it like back then? What was the context surrounding this new programme? It was very tough to start a theatre programme because I don’t think the university truly understands the nature of the discipline. NUS is quite the old fashioned, classic orthodox university. The fact that this is a discipline where a lot of the research, the thinking, might come from practice, that there’s a large practical component, made it very hard to convince (people). Until now, people from rival institutions say, “Oh, NUS Theatre Studies is very theoretical.” That’s true. When we first started, that was the only way we could start the programme, because you cannot be seen as practical but research-based theatre. It was through the years that we gradually smuggled more and more. Were there any difficulties at the start? Until today, I get condemned for not endorsing the 5th Passage snipping of pubic hair performance art piece (by Josef Ng). Did you know that the Theatre Studies programme was only one year old – no, one term -- at that point? Immediately I got calls from the MOE, et cetera, asking whether we do performance art and forum theatre. I ask you, do you want to save the programme? I’m glad I saved it. Twenty years down the road we have produced so many practitioners: Lim Eng Beng, who’s teaching at Brown University, Loretta Chen, who’s got a PhD… We’ve got people like Jeanette Aw who’s gone into television. (Actor/director/playwright) Jonathan Lim. Terence Tan, who’s a producer. Janice Koh, who’s gonna be our second Arts NMP. Can you imagine if I screwed up the programme at its infantile stage? The university would have no qualms in closing it. 1987 was the last communist purge and 1992 was just five years down the road. So the emphasis of Theatre Studies during those early years was, quite literally, on studies. Yes. The students would complain! We would do a play production of, say, Cloud Nine by Caryl Churchill. 40% would be based on the performance, which was time-consuming, and they still had to do an exam for the text, which was 60%. There was no way around it. You had to learn how to negotiate the context. Otherwise, it’s ramming your head against the wall. When did the change happen? In 2000, we organised a forum and David Lim, the minister of (then) MITA was there. I remember Sasi standing up and saying that in order to be responsible, an artist must be irresponsible. That you need to stretch the boundaries, that sort of thing. And David Lim said that for him it seemed logically unsound. So it was a very gradual process. In 2006, Casey Lim did A Language Of Their Own, the Chay Yew play. But in 1995, Ong Keng Sen directed the premiere in the Joseph Papp Public Theater in New York. It was a coup for a Singaporean that was supposed to transfer to Singapore. Unfortunately, during that year, there was also Wills and Successions, the second of Eleanor Wong’s lesbian plays. There were also a couple of gay plays. So suddenly, that play was not allowed here. But in 2006 it was finally allowed with little fanfare. Whereas you would have thought that in 1995 it would have made a great impact – because it was the first Singaporean play to be invited to the New York Public Theatre. But cannot. But you see, people can’t remember these things. Straits Times writers raved about Fear Of Writing – they loved the last scene where Ling Poh Foong comes in and pretends to be an MDA officer. And I said, yah, but (Tan) Tarn How had already done that in 1994 for Undercover. The last scene was people bursting into the theatre to interrogate us. I never credit myself with too much influence in the theatre scene but what I think I’m important for is having that cultural memory, which I suppose, apart from Sasi, no one else has. Okay, let’s cut to the chase. What we really want to know is – where did the whole “Singapore’s most glamourous academic” tagline come from? Oh, I think it had to do with the fact that I also wrote quite a lot of books on these so-called “national histories”. I’ve done the Istana history, the National Library history, the Chinese Chamber of Commerce… My very first book that I wrote was when I was 23 – the first National Library book, A Place For The People, in `82, `83. And then the next year I did Made In Singapore with two others, which went into six or seven reprints. Two of my books were buried in a time capsule, too. So I suppose the glamourous (factor) really has to do with the fact that in terms of opportunity, I got to write these national-type books and that gave me quite a high profile. As a follow up to the whole glamour thing – care to divulge any style and beauty tips for constantly looking so great, Dr Seet-stye? Well, I actually believe everything is in the genes `cos I am berated by friends for having the worst diet ever – high sugar intake, no veggies, fried food and full-fat Coke. But I firmly subscribe to lots of sleep – nine hours a day or more. And whenever I can, afternoon naps. Did you ever consider a career in theatre itself, outside academia? Me, Nora Samosir, Sasi, we used to do plays at the NUS Drama Society. Then in graduate school, I was involved in theatre overseas as a director. I never acted. I was the control freak. (laughs) When I came back, I was very eager to start again. The first play I directed made a big splash in 1991 – The Eye of History by Robert Yeo. It was staged at the Victoria Theatre. It’s a historical fantasy about Sir Stamford Raffles coming back to life and demanding to meet Lee Kuan Yew and asking him why his birthday has not been made a public holiday. And so Lee Kuan Yew was a character on stage. I remember the first night. Victoria Theatre’s very hard to fill but it was full house. You cannot imagine the number of ministers and MPs sitting in the front few rows! It had a mixed reception. (Former ST critic) Hannah Pandian said it was too talky. But it was good because after the play, I started getting appointed to all these committees in the NAC! (laughs) Like for the Cultural Medallion. I chaired the Singapore Writers Festival… I think it certainly put me in the right direction. Any other plays? I only did three when I came back. Just before the Theatre Programme started, I did Details Cannot Bodies Want, which was by Chin Woon Ping, a performance arts piece. I have the dubious honor of directing the first RA rated play in Singapore. That was when they actually actively checked ICs outside the Guinness Theatre in Substation. The third play, in 1995, was, I thought, unfairly received. Dangerous Liaisons. I called it a “beautiful people production” and the concept was that it was set in a photo studio and they all strike tableaus with all those shiny umbrellas and they go through the motions of the play. But the reporter who came (and actually apologized to me seven years later) actually used the “beautiful people” ranking for my actors. My leading man, who had a slightly tenor voice but looked the part, was (described) as “a bit like Tom Selleck speaking with a falsetto”. Very nasty. I guess I was quite crushed by that. But anyway I was also busy by then. When are you planning to write a memoir? (LASALLE Provost) Venka (Purushothaman) was saying to me the other day that I should write my memoir and do an expose of the theatre scene because if there’s anyone who knows more about the inside dealings (that would be me), because I hear gossip from practically every source. But I think wouldn’t be so indiscreet. You’ve seen at least two decades worth of the Theatre Programme and the scene as a whole. What has changed? It has certainly become more vibrant. In the early years, everybody seemed to be doing the same thing. Everybody wanted to devise “The Great Singapore Play”. From `87 to about `92 when, NAC was incepted, the theatre companies, Action Theatre, TheatreWorks, The Necessary Stage, Drama Box -- they all grew around the same period. But by the late `90s, you could tell they were all going into different directions. For me that’s the nicest thing. Even now, my students can see that. I’ll say Finger Players and they’ll know: “Clever ways with puppetry, fairly cutting edge, fairly avant garde, non-linear storyline”. The Necessary Stage – “Something slightly political but with a social conscience.” Theatreworks  -- “Something very intercultural.” Wild Rice – “More mainstream type of Singapore play.” Each company has developed its own niche, which is very good. Productions values are also a lot higher now. In the mid-`80s, people would get furniture from their homes. They will never build a set or commission a professional person to bring in a sound system, et cetera. Is it good or bad? Well, I think it’s good. If it continues to be something we do out of passion, then we’re pandering to what politicians would say – that theatre is a hobby. And it’s not a hobby. What has been the biggest change? I think the liberalisaton of the permissible boundaries. When you think about 1995 when A Language Of Their Own was not allowed and by 2006, no hoo-hah whatsoever. Now you see all kinds of stuff onstage. (Lim) Kay Tong did Equus with Chandra Lingam – he was one of the earliest Alan Strands! And now, nobody bats an eyelid. I suppose with the internet, people realize that the floodgates are open. There’s no way you can curb them. What has not changed? Do you really want me to say? Egos. (laughs) I don’t want to name names, but on the surface, people are generally quite cordial. I guess it’s theatre and when everyone’s fighting for the same slice of the funding pie, inevitably you’ll have a situation that, on the one hand, is collaborative. They’ll need each other, say, Drama Box will loan stuff to Toy Factory or Toy Factory will loan stuff to Wild Rice. But it’s also competitive in a sense that you’re fighting for the same audience, same sponsors, same recognition. Does it get nasty? No, it never does because they’re such good actors they’ll never let the nastiness show! But it does get petty. It’s sometimes the pettiness that I don’t like. Less now, I must say. Now everyone’s trying to be more professional. In the early years of the Life! Theatre Awards, their warmth towards me would be directly proportionate to the number of nominations they have received (laughs). But now it’s changed somewhat. Do you have any preference when it comes to the kind of shows you watch? I really like every kind. Keng Sen has been nominated for Geisha because it’s so avant garde, using an old form but revivifying it and exploring all the intercultural collisions. It’s very exciting. I love The Necessary Stage when they do the socially conscientious dramas because they’ve always capture the pulse of Singapore life. But I also like Wild Rice – slightly more mainstream but highly entertaining and at the same time very radical in terms of its politics. And Li Xie and Drama Box doing their community theatre, making people aware of Aids et cetera. I am not like a lot of Singapore theatre practitioners that seem to increasingly pooh-pooh realist plays. They’ll say, “Oh there’s really no challenge in doing a play like Dealer’s Choice.” But I still think it takes tremendous talent of the Tracie Pang ilk to pull through one of these lineal well made plays that capture all the nuances and emotions. It takes a special skill as well. Just because it has realistic sets and don’t have people jumping around doing weird things every five seconds doesn’t mean it’s less artistic. I think some of the more pretentious theatre practitioners would like to think that if it’s not cutting edge, it’s not pushing the boundaries. What would be your most memorable productions? Oh, I can’t name, because if I do, it would seem unfair. I like them all. But if you were to ask me if I have certain favourites for each playwright… Like for Tan Tarn How, it’s Machine, where he veered away from the usual political angle and explored contemporary relationships. It unfolds like a French movie. It’s very classy, elegant, this rectangular relationship amongst the four parties. For Alfian (Sa’at), it would be The Optic Trilogy, which I think is a beautiful play and much better than Asian Boys. What do you think is lacking in the scene right now? There’s been talk about the dearth of new playwrights… You can’t have a succession fo playwrights all the time. Haresh, Tarn How, Eleanor, Ovidia (Yu), Desmond Sim is one generation. Then you have (Chong) Tze Chien, Alfian, (Ng) Yi-Sheng would be a second generation. But no alarm bells ringing for me, so long as the playwriting platforms are kept. We’ve (recently) lost one -- Action Theatre’s (Theatre Idols). There will always be playwrights but the question is sustained writing. You don’t want to have flash-in-the pan efforts. You’re friends with a lot of the folks in the theatre industry. What happens when you watch a play you really didn’t like? One thing about me, which I’m very famous for, is I keep a poker face right through a performance. Nobody can tell if I like it or not. Even if it’s funny I don’t laugh. (laughs) But I have to say that early on, Ivan (Heng) and Glen Goei caught on to something. If I didn’t like a production, I don’t go to the reception afterwards. But now I go. Otherwise they’ll know. (laughs) But I don’t like to say “I love it” when I don’t. Now I just say it has its moments or mention its more positive aspects. How does “KK Seet, Cultural Medallion recipient” sound to you? Cannot! I’m not an artist. My role is quite bizarre that it straddles all these areas. A lot of people still can’t place me. Some people remember the Speak Good English Campaign, some say “Oh, this is the debates judge (for The Arena)”. Some remember my books or the Writers Festival or Life! Theatre Awards. Sometimes I’m a “linguistics specialist” or a “theatre academic” or a “literature professor” – it varies according to where they want to slot me in. So the gameplan right now is to travel? What about your fans and friends in Singapore? Gasp! (Chong) Tze Chien said to me, “When you retire, we will give you a big party and after you retire, you should just disappear from the scene. Because otherwise, people become a bit of a cliché. So it’s good that they disappear and come back after 5-8 years later, still looking like you do, but with your students looking older.” So that’s my plan. (smiles)