December in the Gardens by the Bay: Peace from the Extraordinary
Unique, ubiquitous permeation. I know it fully now. It exists in tiers. First, in the soup of humid air. Then through the Asiatic but global collage of sky-shaping grandeur. Then through the immaculate civil layout from the railways to the markets. Then, finally, to the people whose cultures have created it.
Interestingly, I did not experience any of that at first. The ship docked in a terminal that leads to an enormous indoor shopping mall. I might as well have walked through a portal back to Southern California. Yet focusing on the stores, the myriad droves of people, and even the occasional window allow the first glimpses of the rainbow that is Singapore.
I remember the first time I stepped outside that mall, into the sagging, damp air, as your skin starts to weigh down onto your bones as if retaining water. It’s quite the shock when you’ve been inside a self-contained interior environment that has the air-conditioning power of American buildings. In other words, your body doesn’t like going directly from an ice-cooler to a sauna.
That discomfort melts away quickly, running off like the sweat on your skin. Then you stop noticing the sweat. Singapore rushes into existence before you, and from there it’s as if you’re making your way through a colossal bouquet of flowers.
December, 2014 was my first experience in Singapore, and it started in the Harbourfront Centre. Many, many people and many, many stores, complete with the equally sprawling subway station beneath—and of course, all of this was accessible after going through customs and immigration. This was a centre of centres.
The ride on the subway itself was silky smooth, pristinely clean, and the first instance of the future-that-is-now I knew.
From HarbourFront to Downtown we went….
We had a destination: Marina Bay. Slightly sidetracked, we exited from the Downtown station…and into this:
I could only look up. It was the only way. As assuredly as I forgot my friends’ presence in those next moments—and I loved these people dearly—I knew they were utterly bewildered, too. I’d been gaping as soon as we’d entered the sunlight. These pinnacles of mankind held the sky. With them went my consciousness.
The scene was so grand, so entrancing that I felt, from deep inside my being, a great crescendo—a force which ricocheted into a cascade of vibrations. Sonic impulses like cymbals and brooding, ethereal electronics moved like waves through me. They were the start of something significant—the phantom sounds with which I might craft my first impression of Singapore.
We took our time. To not relish these moments would have betrayed our emotions—our authentic, true selves. We walked toward Marina Bay, but emerging from beneath the pinnacles of mankind, their great presence still with us.
The ArtScience Museum is on the left, its mighty lotus-like petals shining far less than normal under that citadel of angry clouds.
The clouds had certainly gathered their dark interior to bear. They had descended now, almost like a drawbridge, giving the ominous sign of impending chaos.
Fortunately for us, we were closing in deftly on the what may be considered the defining pinnacles of mankind in Singapore: the Marina Bay Sands.
The famed resort boasts a sprawling shopping mall, multi-tiered and full of life. It was here that we browsed, talked, observed, ate mouth-wateringly fresh dumplings, then drank cocktails at a bar which opened itself up to the calm after the storm. Throughout that time, thunder growled overhead, and rain streamed off the glass ceiling, some collecting in this giant saucer that feeds the mall-river below.
(It made its own water too, in case you were thinking about just how much rain fell in that time….)
We all continued our exploration, and our bonding. We knew we wanted a place for dinner, then for drinking, and beckoning us so enticingly was Clarke Quay. To experience it by night was a must. So we enjoyed ourselves until the sky turned out and this wonderful place turned on via the fantastical glow of the canopies. There was a nice, slightly tangy scent of the river mixed with beer and food. The gorgeous shophouses lining the streets, born of European, Malay, and Chinese architectural influences, were almost satirical in the bright, ever-shifting colors. There was nothing quite like the perfect comfort of luscious humidity, wrapping us all. We were surrounded by old history on all sides, and sheltered by state-of-the-art innovation from above….
We couldn’t care less about the insane prices for food and drinks. Uplifting, deep, and existential conversations were had long into the unendingly lovely night. The vibrations from the morning, from my first glimpse of Singapore in earnest, seemed unending, too.
So it was that my first December in Singapore left a permanent state of serenity in me. Everything was that much more meaningful, therefore, when I returned in December, 2015….
With experiences like these, it was so easy for me to forget about the drawbacks Singapore suffers. Living costs here are sky-high, and there has long been a large social-inequality problem that stimulates classist attitudes. And you’d better not try anything unlawful. You might end up in a literal world of hurt; Singpaore’s justice system includes flogging among other things, like the death penalty for drug-dealing. Even littering and spitting gum on the street are acts that could land you a huge fine. All of these things are fine examples of the overarching theme: one isn’t as free to do as one pleases in Singapore. But the history of its incredible growth cannot be denied. With a combination of strong, cunning leadership, and the values of “meritocracy, pragmatism, and honesty,” from 1965 Singapore spent three decades becoming one of most successful societies in today’s world.
It only continues to evolve. It is seen.
Esplanade—Theatres by the Bay, the skyline-morphing performing arts center of Singapore.
The majesty of the Merlion, whose essence I needed to capture. But this was the best shot I took without people’s faces (therefore “identities” being captured, too)!
The sculptures of the aptly named Breathe, by Edwin Cheong. The message of its symbolisms are beautiful, and needed.
The center of Singapore’s presence engulfs you with an amount of wonders that should have manifested from the mind of a fiction writer. These wonders are very real—the soup of the air; the global yet Asiatic architecture; the impeccable state of the walkways and everything else near and far; and finally, the people. Indeed, Singapore’s incredible success, wealth, and multicultural history resulted in this unique, ubiquitous permeation.
Chinese New Year in the ever-moving Chinatown.
Roast duck, fresh noodles, and wonton soup? With a lemon-orange drink? For about $6.50? Yes please.
The Year of the Goat, 2015, when people-watching experience was unbelievable….
By far the most incredible example of this permeation I experienced was a day in Singapore I had one year later, in December 2015. It too carried the extraordinary vibrations of the year before. The day before that, the ship had docked during the afternoon, and I could only get off at nighttime. I was certainly eager to see the downtown area as sunset reigned.
I arrived eventually at the very base of the Marina Bay Sands, curving upward impossibly. My wanderlust kept me from entering the mall proper. However, the sight that had drawn me was not the cascading hotel, but the otherworldly atmosphere of the trees across the way…. Vibrant purple, glowing in the dusk, imitating nature yet surely, somehow, a part of it….
Finding the entrance to that world proved difficult, as there was no way across from the ground. It seemed the bridge from the hotel was the only way, and by that time the mall was closed…. So in the lukewarm, clammy air I made my way back to the ship, hoping for a fresh start in the morning. That, and a long, cold shower.
The next day, on the route I needed, I was met with a harmony of nature and city the likes of which I’d never seen.
The Gardens by the Bay, representative of Singapore as the Garden City, was only three years old at this time. How perfect a coincidence for me to come now, seeing this new addition to the city as fresh and ripe as the nature it embraced. Singapore had come together, in all its diverse, worldly coherence, to both display and transcend that coherence by integrating nature and city.
Like the obvious sermons by past thunderstorms and downpours experienced here, today the pearl-white clouds also said much about the tropical climate. Yet my gaze was not fixed on them, but that which pointed up at them.
Gigantic, towering fortresses awaited me. Soon enough, I found myself awestruck in the Supertree Grove. Vertical gardens blooming like starbursts into the sky, their branches defy purpose, instead intertwining together with nature. The pinnacles of mankind in Downtown may be amazing, but the Supertrees make everything resonate with the supernatural.
All the while, the massive slopes of the Marina Bay Sands dominated the backdrop, in all its strange but stupendous allure.
The hotel was like the frothing waterfall completing the blend of the planet’s forces.
And if that weren’t enough, Christmastime was here. It had been seen throughout the Marina in lines of Christmas trees and lights. The Gardens by the Bay seemed to fully bond itself with Christmas and render itself from what its nature-city essence is, and into the realm of disbelief. Dazzlingly embroidered white lattices stood tall and proud. From any angle, they were there to greet my gaze at three stories tall, encompassing the foreground of the future-here-today.
Alice fell down the rabbit hole, too…. The Supertree Grove took Singapore’s unique, ubiquitous permeation to a whole new level. I had seen all manner of balances between nature and society before coming to Singpaore. It was here when the lines between them faded away. Furthermore, everything there in the grove, supernatural and beyond itself, spoke to me about being a part of everything else.
Resisting the desire to stay staring at the grove until nightfall, I continued my trek. To the other side of the Gardens I went. After considering entering the Flower Dome, I decided there was not enough time. To this day I am disappointed in not having done so…. But had I done so, I may have missed out on the vibrations from last December and this December coalescing into musical creativity.
Instead of the Flower Dome, I sat down along the nature-city quay—to just be. As the blanket-like air cradled me, mankind’s way forward held my attention. There was a depth of calmness which made all other phenomena dissipate like soft mist. All that was left were the imaginations of the future, here in the present, there across the water. My heart was filled to the brim, as the heat, the humidity, the clouds, and the nature-city spoke their sermon….
Then, the vibrations 0f past December and this December were known. They condensed effortlessly into a melody. Gently birthed from the back of my mind, it had translucence, like delicate wisps of smoke. But the substance of its character enveloped the entirety of what I perceived before me.
I sang this melody to myself. I built it upon itself. At some time it was ready. I now know it was birthed from the integration of my own awareness into everything around me, nestled in peace. That is why the melody was perfect.
I had recorded it, and for some time this melody sat within my phone’s memory, waiting to be further built upon. Composers can sit on ideas for years—this melody was just such an idea. One day in London, years later, those vibrations resurfaced from deep within the recesses of my unconscious, igniting my creative impulse. They pushed the melody to the forefront, and I set out constructing the framework from both the tangible ideas already there and the spontaneous, source-less ideas channeling through me…. My mind worked through this process as if seeing everything in a hectic collage of absolute splendor. However, there was no urgency, nor passionate fire. Everything happened like the smoothest river flow. There was just peace. That is why the process was perfect.
About the music
“December in the Gardens by the Bay” was conceived from that melody, but also in a duality—a framework of calm peace and energetic glory.
First, I aim to capture the calm peace of that time on the quay. The guitar starts, setting up the mood through its echoing improvisations. Then the melody comes, raw, exposed, and weaving between the piano. The melody grows into a second theme—a new sonic place for peace, but a bit more substantial. Finally, the other part of the duality, the “energetic glory,” is ignited as the full band comes crashing in. This represents that first unbelievable impression I had in Downtown Singapore. Other great “crashes” happen in the piece too, representing the same thing and more. You can think of a thunderclap, and the mighty sound of a cloudburst that follows…. It is my testament to the weather there at the Equator. Listen especially at the end of the piece for this thunderclap-followed-by-a-cloudburst.
There are two solo sections, and they too follow the peace-glory duality. That utter tranquillity of silent beauty in the Gardens by the Bay is represented first. Like the melody, this solo section captures my time there in all is radiating stillness…. But the second solo section is immediately more powerful. It is celebratory; epic; even bombastic, as if the happiness from the tranquillity of the Gardens by the Bay becomes so much that it bursts forth! This is the climax; it eventually gives way to the original melody, which sets up the ending of the piece.