Sketch Series 5: The back of the house next to Heeren House, Jalan Tun Tan Cheng Lock

Bagus jugak ada pokok mangga kat tepi tu, tak payah lukis fasad belakang Heeren House. One of the tricks we did as students was to draw trees when we have no idea how to design a facade. The fenestration could already be in place but sometimes we were clueless on how to treat them (penangan kerja last minute), so the trees came useful at this stage. Obviously we are not from that era where architectural drawings are void of vegetations. Pokokkan aje, habis cerita.

Today it rained heavily in the afternoon, and after that it was pretty cloudy. But still I cycled to town to sketch. Today instead of turning right from Lorong Hang Jebat into Jalan Tun Tan Cheng Lock, I cycled straight passing by the side of Heeren House, just to check out the back facade. It's pretty utilitarian, but still handsome. And so I parked the old black bicycle and got to work.

And oh, pardon me for my mistakes before. All the sketches of the facades were actually of the houses along Jalan Tun Tan Cheng Lock, which incidentally, was the stretch of road where I did my research on facade conservation. Again, proof that that report was put together only to pass the bloody course, or maybe my memory is really that shitty.

There are things I need to improve, although I notice on my 3rd day of sketching, my lines are getting more and more 'sketchier'. I was never good with drawing straight lines but now it seems like I'm getting worse. Maybe I'm getting more confident or maybe I'm just getting complacent.

As with the sketches before, I cheated here and there. Sketching directly with ink means that any mistake is very likely irrevocable. And so I had to improvise and yet try to remain as true as possible. Takde lah tipu kaw-kaw punya. The thing about sketching objects (both still and life) is that the trick lies in getting the proportion right. Personally for me it's usually the scale or the angle that screws things up.

Basically if you get the proportion right then congratulations you've got the reproduction of the object on paper.

But if you want an exact picture then take a photograph lah. For me sketching is about capturing the essence of what you've seen, because not all of what you've seen will make it onto the paper. You choose what to put down. Subconsciously, with every line you draw, you're determining what's important and discarding what's not. It becomes personal because the interpretation goes through your brain first, unlike using a camera.

I should have started doing this years ago. I'm just trying to catch up and make up for the lost time. This was the exercise from my first year as an architecture student.

Am flirting with the idea of doing a travel diary the next time I go out traveling. This time I mean it. Again, first year exercise. I did a rather half-arsed travelogue while traveling in Vietnam. But since I don't think anybody would be willing to stay in a spot for about an hour just so I could sketch, I probably should travel alone. One sketch a day ala Craig Thompson and his Carnet deVoyage (I wonder if I had actually returned it back to Mr Ex No. 2). And maybe one day I'll manage a tome like Blankets, meruntun jiwa. Alang-alang self-indulgent biar sampai ke pangkal lengan.

My all-time favorite illustrator though, has to be CS3, I mean, Quentin Blake. He was the bloke who did the illustrations for Roald Dahl. I really love his style! The lines look like mere doodles and scratches but that's the exact charm. It takes great confidence to draw like a child, ask Picasso, he should know.

Artline 0.2 on B5 white paper Ordning & Reda.

Sketch Series 4: 22, JalanTun Tan Cheng Lock

I find drawing the clay tiles rather challenging. Well, the problem lies in getting them on paper at the right angle as the real thing. And I shouldn't have started sketching immediately after getting off the bicycle and my heart was still pounding madly, it made for really shaky lines. Rather proud of the motorbike though.

But, what a way to start this post, by whining! OK let's talk about some cheerful things now.

While I was cycling home today, my phone rang, and who should be on the other side but Chepah, my partner-in-crime at boarding school! Apparently Pah is in Melaka for a meeting, so she suggested we meet up for dinner.

It was fun seeing Pah. Oh the adventures we used to have at boarding school! We were classmates during Form 3, which meant that we usually skipped lessons together. Favorite lesson to skip, Geography. And it was through our Geography teacher that our moms finally met. It was during the parents-teachers meeting for examination classes. After being exposed by our Geography teacher, we stood sheepishly by our moms while they chatted about how to deal with us.

When I went to school to get my exam results, they actually tried to prevent me from continuing my education there. The HEM (Students' Affairs) teacher actually showed me a list of the rules that I've bended and broken. Chepah's list was very similar to mine but each of us had some adventures on our own. But they had no problem accepting her back. Actually I wasn't that crazy about coming back to that school because I really wanted to take art or technical drawing and the school didn't offer the subject (they only produced future doctors and engineers and accountants by the bus load, future architects were not exactly catered for. I doubt it has changed much since then). But naturally because I wasn't allowed back in, I wanted to get in badly. So we went to see the Principal, whom upon seeing my results, said that there should be no problem because I qualified to stay. And so to the HEM's chagrin, I stayed.

When they distributed us to our dorms, they took into consideration our past 'escapades' to make sure that we wouldn't have ready 'accomplices' in the same dorm. Some wisdom those wardens had, they actually put Pah and I in the same dorm! Apparently our 'cases' were different. Little did they know that most of the time we did them together, only some of it appeared on my record and some appeared on hers. And so we continued our adventure together.

Pah is a really gifted person. She has a brilliant mind and is one of those people who doesn't need to work hard at her studies. She napped during lessons only to give a perfect answer when the frustrated teacher specifically asked her a question. We all marveled at her brilliance. I didn't take a nap during some lessons (Science subjects usually) but even after listening to the teacher's explanation I still couldn't get it some time and I had to do some extra studying afterward just to get some understanding. I napped at other lessons, and mind you, it wasn't pretty. Probably explains why I didn't have a boyfriend in high school.

As predicted Pah did really well for her SPM. Her mom nagged to her days and nights asking her to choose medicine to study but Pah just wasn't interested even though she could do it. Now all her 3 younger sisters are blaming her because they have to study medicine instead.

We went to Uni together but we drifted apart a bit because we took different courses, and my coursework was just crazy. We hung out together then from time to time and it helped that we shared a house for a year (or a semester, can't remember). But after that she graduated earlier than me. We rarely met up, even when I was working in PJ. But even back then we knew that we could trust each other for help and emergencies.

Pah has changed. It's funny to see how people change sometimes. Our little gang at school didn't really thrive on being feminine, we were a rough crowd or imagined that we were. We skipped lessons, escaped preps, sneaked out to go to town, sneaked in Walkmen and cassettes of 'decadent' music, and a million other petty things for cheap thrills. Whenever something went wrong at the hostel we would be in the list of usual suspects. In other words, taxpayers' money was wasted on us.

Pah now wears make-up and her handbag was from Coach and she actually wore a pair of ankle length boots when I saw her. Very stylish. I was in my orange Orang Utan t-shirt, jeans, and flip-flops, and my wallet and hand-phone were in my back pockets. I felt like a right slob standing beside her. But this is my town and although I get lost sometimes, I rule supreme.

We have agreed to meet up again as there's really a lot to talk about and 3 measly hours were barely enough. I took her home to see my parents and they were really happy to see her. Pah is one of those friends from school whose home I could just visit without prior notice. I once arrived when she's wasn't around but was welcome anyways because her family knows me. There's this other friend whose house I even know how to enter and I usually just help myself with the locks.

We were tight, and I have a feeling despite these years of drifting apart, there will be time when we would become close again, albeit a tad more matured and mellowed. Or maybe not, maybe being together will remind us of our daredevil days and we will relive those carefree school days in our own 'adult' way. After all, having spent our formative years together by seeing each other constantly in most of our waking hours for 5 long years, we accept each other as we are and we don't pass judgment. We leave that to society at large. There were things that annoyed us about each other but we have long accepted those as our individual quirks and part of who we are. It warms the cockle when a friend you haven't met for a long time tells you that she knows that you will not freak out after listening to her issues. And she doesn't need to say it but you know she will do the same for you. But she says it anyway and it is nice to hear.

And I say, that is a friendship worth cherishing =D

Artline 0.2 on B5 white paper Ordning and Reda.

Sketch Series 3: 46 Jalan Tun Tan Cheng Lock

(GM, we didn't carry our research on this house did we? We only chose those fancy ones I remember).

I chose 46 Jalan Tun Tan Cheng Lock today because I was looking for something simple to draw. Time constrain was one thing, sheer laziness another. Right next to this house is the Baba Nyonya Museum, which is rather heavily rendered by comparison. Now that would be hell to draw with all the carvings and reliefs. It makes me dizzy just thinking about it.

And don't you just hate it when you realize too late that you can't fit the bloody thing on your paper?

I became rather obsessed with these town/shop houses for a bit when I was studying at UTM. They still fascinate me today. It would be a dream come true if I could afford to own one of them one day.

A short history on this typology. They were built during the Dutch time. The Dutch taxed the Chinese businessmen according to the width of the opening and so being shrewd, the Chinese made it really narrow but quite long to the back. Some of these houses have 3 internal courtyards! That's how long they are. I really love this architecture.

No 46 still serves as a shop because I saw the 'open' sign. But the facade gave no clue to what's inside. One of the reasons why I chose No 46 was its lack of signboard on the facade. Some of the new signboards on these old facades were so badly designed I had to fight the urge to tear them down myself.

Proof that I only did the research to pass the subject is that I can't even remember if Melaka had a guideline regarding signboards then. And my research was on facade conservation. I did facade and GM did the internal courtyards. Pretty good team when we were out doing fieldwork.

Proof that research was not exactly my forte was that I barely passed the research method subject, dropped the topical research subject the next semester, failed it the next semester, and finally delivered it during my final semester because well, I did want to graduate. Thank God I didn't do too shabbily. Although I could have probably spent more time writing the conclusion.

Thank you Encik Kamarudin Ali for being my supervisor. Half the time I didn't understand what you were saying as you had this habit of speaking slowly with a low voice and having your sentences trailing into incoherent mumbles. When I took the South East Asian History subject with you, I used to sit dead centre in the front so that I could hear what you were saying. But we came to the conclusion that even if we were to sit on your lap we still wouldn't be able to hear what you said. But it was fun nevertheless. Glad I didn't opt for Western History. Can't sit through another semester of trying to identify and draw Greek columns. Doric (female), Ionic (male), Corinthian (plant-inspired). See? Education not wasted. Now I can use it to identify which style has a Mak Datin chose to adorn her house. Very useful.

Hmm, have to dig out that purple-bound report somewhere.

And oh, I've also decided to draw only one facade per day. Quality control. Either that or a perspective of the street. I sense fickleness kicking in.

Note to self:

1. Maybe 530 pm is a tad late in the afternoon to start cycling from home. Sure it's nice and shady, but buildings lost their contrasts too and not terribly exciting too draw without their shadow projections. Next time must go when it's really sunny it hurts the eye, and to hell with the heat. Which simply means that must go earlier in the day as it's almost always blindingly sunny every day.
   
2. Before drawing, make sure that whole facade will fit on paper. It is always the ground floor which opens to the street that is more interesting anyway.

Artline 0.2 ink on B5 white paper Ordning & Reda.

Sketch Series 2: Around the Stadthuys

First stop: Chendol Stall by the Bridge

Being Malaysian, it is imperative that I start everything with the 'kita minum dulu!' (let's have a drink first!) spirit. Hence, upon alighting from the car (I asked my grandpa to chauffeur me around town for a bit this morning), I purposely crossed the road to the Mamak Chendol Stall by the Bridge. Actually there is another shop selling really good chendol in the Jonker area, but for the life of me, I can't remember the location. This sketch, which was supposed to be my warm-up sketch (but turned out to be nicest of the bunch too), was done while I was stuffing my face with two small bowls of chendol. The clock tower is located on the Dutch Square (The Stadthuys) and was built in 1886. Behind it is the building that was built by the Dutch for administration purpose, which the British also used for administration when they managed to wrench Melaka away from the Dutch. It was built on the ruins of the Portuguese fort.

It was really nice sitting under the tree by the Melaka River, eating chendol and sketching at the same time, while listening to Tamil music on the radio. I was joined by a Chinese boy and 2 Chinese girls later and when I wanted to pay for my chendol, I was told by the Mamak that the Chinese girl had paid for my chendol. I went to ask her about it and she didn't seem to realize that she had paid for me, and so I offered to pay. But she refused my money, saying 'tak apa, tak apa' while pushing my hand away. My luck then.

Second Stop: Christ Church.

This church is the oldest Protestant Church building in Malaysia. Yes, it is still being used today. I didn't know that. Shame on me. I thought it had been converted to a museum, as all the other red colored buildings in this area are. I would've gone in had I known it is still functioning as a church.

Man with trishaw.

This was one of the least 'decorated' trishaws around. Today the trishaw only serves as a tourist attraction, but when I was a kid, it actually served as a public transportation. My mom and I used to hire a trishaw to take us back home whenever we went out shopping in town. These days they use an umbrella to shade the passengers, but back in the day they used to have this canvas foldable roof which is way cooler if you ask me. Somehow rather, the umbrella doesn't have the same elegance as the foldable canvas.

Fourth Stop: One portion of the facade at The Stadthuys

Although The Stadthuys is made up mostly of stones, some portions of the second story is made up of wood. You've got to give it to the builders of the old, as it was all harmoniously composed and the proportions are to die for. This particular facade caught my eyes and I lodged myself on the steps in front of it to sketch it. If architects are allowed to have favourite elements, then the 'louvers' is my poison. I fell in love with this particular architectural element since the beginning of my architectural education, and to date, nothing else has managed to take its place. I love the louvers for the practicality and also the understated aesthetics it brings to a facade. If there is one thing I love more than the louvers, then it has to be the adjustable louvers, as The Stadthuys evidently has.

When I was sketching this, a group of Japanese tourists walked past by and several of them stopped to watch me. Those who stopped told me that my sketch is beautiful and one dude gave me the thumb up and said, 'good!' before patting my shoulder as he was leaving. As much as I would like to pretend that I'm cool and words of praises mean nothing to me, I must admit that that felt good =)

Final Stop of the Day: Democratic Government Museum

Were it not for the result of the last election, I would have been convinced that democracy is dead in Malaysia as we have a museum dedicated to it. This is one of my favourite buildings in the area. Shamelessly modernist, it fits surprisingly well into the context. This sketch is also crap as I was experimenting with my 0.4 felt tip pen (the other sketches were drawn with a 0.2 pen) and the proportion is wrong and so are some of the details. It is actually a very beautiful building but my sketch obviously doesn't do justice to it. I heart modernism. I really do.

My grandpa asked me to bring over my sketch book to his house once I was done. When he opened the book he let out a short cry, which sounded a lot like disbelief. He then asked me if I actually drew them myself and although the temptation to kid around was really high, he is also hard on hearing and that would take some of the fun away, so I just nodded. The guy has been there for all of my important dates since I was a kid and yet he's really clueless about what I do. My grandma referred to my course as 'kursus lukis-lukis' (drawing course) for quite some time and I didn't bother to correct her. It was not until later that she referred to it properly, no doubt a kind soul (which I strongly suspect my mom) had taken the time to explain it to her. Oh well. They looked at my sketches with such pride that that was such a precious moment, and I just thought that all the critics at the Bartlett can go to hell, my grandparents love me!

I'm going to KL tomorrow to sort out a few things and if I have time, I'll hang out again in this area. I really wanted to sketch the old Chinese townhouses in the Jonker area and perhaps I should concentrate on that next time.

Note: All sketches save for the last one were drawn with 0.2 Artline felt tip pen on white A5 paper. Sketch book courtesy of the Tall Dane who will claim credit once I won the Pritzker ;P

18 years ago

Me and my Bahasa Malaysia teacher who also happen to be the woman who gave birth to me. Picture taken in front of my classroom, Darjah 3 Hijau.

My friend, The Teacher, practically rolled on the floor laughing when she saw this picture. She couldn't handle the flowers tucked into my hair. For the life of me, I couldn't remember how the teacher who made up my face managed to tuck so many flowers into my hair. Quite a feat.

I was in Standard 3 and this picture was taken on Prize Giving Day. All classes had to prepare a performance and my class teacher, or perhaps more likely an enthusiastic trainee teacher, had the brilliant idea for a fashion show.

When I was very young (I was 9 then), I was an impulsive volunteer. I was one of those annoying kids whose hand would shoot up in the air shouting me! me! me! whenever the teacher asked for a volunteer or asked a question. Simply saying, I was an obnoxious know-it-all because I read a lot and had quite an impressive level of general knowledge for a kid my age. And with that came the seemingly natural urge to assume responsibility or maybe I was just power crazy. But let's not accuse a 9 year old girl of that. It was not until later in my life that I learned to shirk any form of responsibility and to shut up in class even though I knew the answer. Then again, I didn't really study that hard in boarding school and thus most of the time I genuinely didn't know the answer to my teachers' question. Or I wasn't listening as I was fast asleep during lessons. These days my level of general knowledge has not really improved from when I was 9 as I have trouble retaining information in my thick skull. The only consistent thing about me from then till now is that I am bloody lazy. This has nothing to do with me being Malay although it has deconstructed some of my mates' view in London about Asians being hard-working. Then again there was this Chinese bloke who did nothing but slept all through out the course.

But I digress. The reason why I was decked in a kebaya that I had outgrown was because I volunteered to do so. My grandfather who was quite an avid traveler, bought that pair of kebaya for me when he went traveling in Indonesia. Before I realized what I was doing, I found myself explaining to the teacher that I had a pair of kebaya from Indonesia and was willing to wear it for the fashion show.

I didn't realize that it meant that she would feel it was ok to treat my face like a blank canvas. Look at that picture and read my expression. That was not exactly pure joy. See, I am not exactly a novice to wearing make up. But it was incidents like this which made me swear off make up for the rest of my life.

I remember during rehearsal I was told off by the teacher because apparently my walk was not cat-like enough. She said I walked like a cowboy and I thought that I deserved a pat on the shoulder as it was no mean feat to accomplish that when you are decked in a kebaya.

It was such a traumatic experience that I swore off kebaya for a lot of years after that. It was not until I was at Uni that I learned to appreciate the kebaya again. And my choice of style today is the classic Kebaya Nyonya made popular by the Straits Peranakan Chinese. I reckon it's like a tribute to my Hometown which was a Straits Settlement. I even wore a black pair for my year end exhibition at the Bartlett.

I still walk like a cowboy though. Can't help that.

Labour Day at that place I call my hometown which I barely knew (and my knowledge is not getting any better either)

A Formosa Fort.

Doing what I do best. (Ikan bakar at Umbai)

Picture credit to the talented Din Dang.

A nice encounter

It was coincidence last night when I was making my way down to Covent Garden to have a farewell dinner with my classmates (I really hope Ricardo's drive back to Portugal is going on just fine, I almost asked him if I could come along, it seems like a hoot to drive through France and Spain to Lisbon) from the direction of Leicester Square and came across a bunch of UTM students and Mr Apai (real name Jaafar, yes Maja, even our tutors have nicknames).

It was of course, a pleasant surprise. I could imagine at least 5 people whom I don't want to run into, coincidentally or not, anywhere in the whole wide world.

They are on the way to Palermo and are making pit stops in between. I have half a mind to just join them now that I've finished everything and have the future scarily unrolled without any particular milestone that I could look forward to in front of me.

My conversation with fellow classmates these days revolve around our location in the world after we've finished. Some people are going back to their home country and some are staying in London. To those who are leaving, they usually invite us to come visit them. For us who plan to stay, we ask those who's leaving to contact us the next time they drop by in London.

We are made up of people from different continents of the world, and from where we stand, the world IS our oyster.

Ricardo for example, is going to Angola to be with his family and start his own empire. We've told him to contact us in a few years time if ever he needs to hire people. Hehe. Masaya the funny Japanese is still undecided whether to do his PhD in Japan or in London. I think Mr Baek the sweet Korean would still be around next year together with his then newborn daughter whom everybody told him they wish would take after his wife and not him. He's going to do a PhD on generative system. He wasn't satisfied that his work wasn't complete, but it was the stuff for a PhD, and not necessarily for masters level, well, certainly not for a 3-month dissertation. Zhang the Chinese girl is staying, just as Quake from Taiwan is also staying. I think most of the Europeans are staying, save for the Greek girls who couldn't stand the weather in London and are leaving this weekend.

I wish I could take a vacation away from London, away from the UK. I love this city, but its weather suddenly turned extremely cold yesterday, and I was dreading wearing winter clothing once again. I have, in the span of the last few months, managed to forget how cold the weather could be.

Maybe I should go to Palermo with the UTM students. Maybe I can help to tutor them (and try not to corrupt them in the process). Since they're going all the way to Palermo to do a design at a site of MY hometown, Melaka, then maybe I should just go with them. Yes, I whom at times got lost while driving in my own hometown, because I haven't been spending enough time there. But I did write a dissertation about the old townhouses along Heeren Street, and maybe I could submit that as a CV. The students may know more about Melaka than I do now, but what the heck, we'll learn from each other.

I'm sure the weather is nicer in Italy anyway.