Documenting the Street Artists in Singapore/South-East Asia
I’ve probably sidetracked a bit too much. Let’s come back to our artist stationed in the tunnel at the turn of Scotts Road. He is a key-board player cum singer. You will surely remember him the first time you see him. Or you do not even need to see him. Just hear him would suffice a life-time memory. His voice is of the deep mellow kind, not too coarse. It blends nicely with his merry-go-lucky melodies. He uses a loudspeaker; so even in the busiest hour of a public holiday when the tunnel was flooded with people and din, his voice comes unmistakably into your ear, undistorted. If you follow the sound, you will find a man of a certain size with a bulged belly sitting on a chair, wearing a headphone and playing the keyboard, blind. His face is of a broad and round shape, contorted somehow. His wife would always sit beside him and do her own stuff, oblivious of the traffic, as if sitting on the balcony of her own house.
They would be there rain or shine. They would be there day or night. After so many years, when you pass by the tunnel and see the same man playing the same tune, you cannot help feeling that some things are bound to stay and bound to last despite the passage of time.