PUBLIC MARKS with search dance

Founded in 1990 by the late Kuo Pao Kun, The Substation is Singapore's first independent contemporary arts centre. We are centrally located in the city's civic district. Our venues include a black box theatre, a gallery, a dance studio,Random Room and two multi-function classrooms. We present and co-present a wide range of artists and programmes, from traditionally trained dancers to local rock bands; established visual artists to young poets; publications to international short film festivals; experimental theatre to seminal conferences on Singapore arts and culture.

It would seem that such banal, pedestrian knowledges as the experience sof drinking tea and walking around with a group to the cinema hall is a subject unworthy of theorizing. Many would argue that the purpose of doing fieldwork is not to watch films at the Nava Durga Chitra Mandir, but to investigate the Naudruga dance troupe.But in response I would argue that to de -colonize the city, that is to demonstrate how lived tradition actually serves as a effective social formation, it is these very low-level ground experiences that need to be studied. I will refer to the situated experience of the walker as "pedestrian knowledges."

Step seven: find the love

Ask yourself: do I want to work here? You’d be surprised how clearly job indifference shows. A lack of interest begets a lack of action and initiative. A lack of action and initiative means that your colleagues are less inclined to count on you, and worse, will do your tasks themselves rather than enlisting your help. This puts unnecessary pressure on them and maximizes the chance for error.

it's time to find the love yes or to make it happen

"And, of course, that is what all of this is - all of this: the one song, ever changing, ever reincarnated, that speaks somehow from and to and for that which is ineffable within us and without us, that is both prayer and deliverance, folly and wisdom, that inspires us to dance or smile or simply to go on, senselessly, incomprehensibly, beatifically, in the face of mortality and the truth that our lives are more ill-writ, ill-rhymed and fleeting than any song, except perhaps those songs - that song, endlesly reincarnated - born of that truth, be it the moon and June of that truth, or the wordless blue moan, or the rotgut or the elegant poetry of it. That nameless black-hulled ship of Ulysses, that long black train, that Terraplane, that mystery train, that Rocket '88', that Buick 6 - same journey, same miracle, same end and endlessness." -- Nick Tosches, Where Dead Voices Gather