The Débutante
At the time that The Débutante stepped onto the stage for the Lion City Dance Convention’s open showcase competition in August last year, they had not competed as a crew in half a decade. Together, they make a striking picture. A crew of five women is not a common sight in the local street dance scene, and when they move together, it is equal parts strength and grace. Indeed, it made for as impressive a comeback story as any when they were crowned the champions.
Peek over the titles and championships, however, and one gets the distinct sense that what they are, at their core, is simply a close-knit group of friends with a shared love for the craft. Comprising Angelene Wong, Chelsea Monteiro, Jocelyn Loong, Krisha Balakrishnan and Suzanne Tan, the quintet officially came together as a crew under the mentorship of choreographer Amin Alifin in 2013, but have been dancing together long before that. “Some of us have been dancing together since we were in ballet class at seven years old,” Tan shares.
Trained in ballet, jazz and street genres like waacking, the crew started by developing a style of dancing in heels—heavily influenced by waacking. As the years have gone by, however, they’ve come to find a dance identity that feels uniquely theirs. “We’ve all grown as women and developed our own artistic tastes and voices. Our relationships to our bodies and dance have also matured and shifted,” explains Wong. “Now we’re more confident breaking away from expected archetypes of women on stage to experiment and find what’s true of our own expression.”
Outside the crew, each of the members is at a different place in life. Wong is completing a PhD in art, design and media while working in a nonprofit organisation and teaching pole dance; Tan choreographs for a rhythmic gymnastics club and runs a discipleship programme for young people from different churches; Monteiro is about to get married, and works as a dance school administrator and instructor; Balakrishnan recently transitioned into financial consultancy from a full-time dance career, but continues to actively teach and choreograph; Loong is a communications specialist and just delivered her second child.
More than ever, the decision to come back and compete together had to be a carefully considered one—but it is a deep love for the art, and the sisterhood they share, that keeps them going. “Dance is a powerful medium, through which I get to experience the most beautiful, complex emotions that live in me,” muses Balakrishnan. “Many a time, the body knows before I do, and only through moving do I gain deeper clarity and resolution.”
Loong echoes this, adding: “I am more myself because of dance. It’s a gift that has allowed me to discover my identity more fully from my school days, guided my vocation in adulthood and, recently, experience and discover the strength of a woman’s body and what a beautiful instrument it is.”
As the street dance scene in Singapore continues to grow, Monteiro wants to see more collaborations extending beyond the street dance scene to the local dance community—in its many facets—at large. “I hope for the different communities—classical, cultural, modern, contemporary, professionals, laymen—to create together.”
On top of that, the hope, Tan shares, is for greater unity between different areas of the industry—not just among dancers, but with studio owners, stage managers, event producers and so on. “These people are just as important when it comes to growing dance in Singapore, so that resources can be shared, and creative ways of problem-solving have space to come to life in light of what I see is a slow but growing appreciation for the arts in Singapore.”
Still, their ultimate goal as a crew remains a simple—but admirable—one. “To dance together till we’re old and grey,” Monteiro declares, “for as long as our bodies allow.”
Chowk
In Hindi, the word chowk translates to a square where people gather—a space that allows cultures to intersect and individuals of all walks of life to come together. In Odissi—an ancient dance form that originated in the temples of Odisha, believed to be the oldest of the surviving classical dances of India—chowk refers to one of the two basic stances. This is the spirit that Indian dance company Chowk seeks to capture and the foundation on which it is built.
“People will be familiar with many elements in our work. Ultimately, it is from a classical Indian tradition. But there will be many things that will be strange. Our signature is this mixture of the familiar and the strange,” muses founder and artistic director Raka Maitra. Started in 2014 by Maitra, Chowk comprises two pillars: Chowk Productions, where the company develops full-length works with professional performers, and a training wing, which nurtures students of all ages—as young as four and as old as 60— who wish to pursue Odissi as a hobby.
For Maitra, Odissi was a form that she was always drawn to despite initially training in Bharatanatyam from a young age. “The beauty, intricacy and limitless possibilities within Odissi’s vocabulary are truly captivating. It is a dance of contrasts— combining strength and fluidity, where powerful footwork meets a gracefully flowing upper body. The isolation of the torso, seamlessly connected with the gaze, makes Odissi uniquely expressive.”
Making the switch to Odissi at 23, she shares: “My journey with Odissi has been one of deep and intense love. There have been periods of complete immersion, striving to master the form. There have also been times when I have stepped away, moving between the worlds of what is often labelled ‘traditional’ and ‘contemporary’ dance.”
Yet, as a dancer trained in classical Indian forms but creating contemporary work, Maitra often found herself in between worlds. She explains: “In Singapore, ‘contemporary dance’ typically refers to Western contemporary styles. Dance companies were either focused on Western contemporary or on traditional forms, leaving me without a clear place to belong.”
Thus led to the creation of Chowk, which Maitra hoped would provide a space for dancers like herself who were exploring experimental contemporary work beyond the Western framework. Here, Odissi remains a foundation to always stay true to, but also opens up a means to explore new cultures, uncover new ideas and connect with new people.
This is immediately evident in its productions, such as the most recent Migration of Form—strikingly contemporary in its structure, yet rooted in tradition, with great care and respect given to ensure the authenticity of each movement. A diverse mix of performers and creatives from various nationalities and ethnicities make up the cast and crew.
It is, perhaps, not the first thing that crosses the minds of most when they think of traditional Indian dance, but it is this precise notion that Maitra strives to overturn. “The only thing I’ve always believed in is that Odissi has so much to offer. I want people to learn it and use it in their own way—there’s no right or wrong, only the importance of rigour. Learn the form, respect it and make it your own,” she concludes. “I’m always amazed at how the form adapts to different bodies. It belongs to everyone.”
Lychee Bye
It’s a far cry from the city we know today, but Singapore once had a strong cabaret culture. Glamorous dance hostesses at the three big amusement parks that lit up Singapore’s nightlife in the ’50s and ’60s—New World, Great World and Gay World—often put on risqué stage shows to make a living. Lancing girls, they were called—derived from a local mispronunciation of the word ‘dancing’. What is even lesser known is the fact that many of these women were also involved in philanthropy, helping to set up schools, fund programmes and help the underprivileged once they became successful.
“It’s a common misconception that burlesque is this new thing in Singapore that’s maybe been imported from the West. Perhaps current ideas of what a show girl looks like have been influenced by the West, but we have our own history of burlesque,” explains burlesque and drag performer Lychee Bye.
Having started to learn pole dance at 18 as a way to embrace her body amid body dysmorphia, she was looking for a part-time job while in the UK for university. With a direct bus to a strip club from where she lived, she applied, thinking her experience in pole dance would be useful—only to learn the reality of what striptease really entails. “The dance is about 10 percent of what you do there,” she laughs, “It’s a sales job. A hustling job.” It was here that she learnt of an open call for new drag and burlesque artists by queer Asian cabaret The Bitten Peach—with a one-day mentorship in London—thus beginning her foray into the niche known as draglesque.
While they exist as separate art forms, drag and burlesque share a natural affinity. “There’s a heightened performance of gender in both, maybe for different reasons, but ultimately for entertainment,” explains Lychee.
The emphasis on community is also a common thread, she points out. Many of the lancing girls turned to cabaret out of necessity, but made it a point to give back to the communities that they rose out of after they became successful. As for drag, its roots in queer culture means that it inherently involves the creation of a safe and supportive community for queer people. “There are a lot of overlaps in terms of who ends up in these forms, who stays in them and what they are for.”
The burlesque scene in Singapore is a small one, so it is the growing drag community that Lychee has found a home in. Beyond just being a performer, she also runs The Fruit Basket mentorship programme, a platform for non-binary and women performers to explore drag and burlesque. Now in its fifth season, it’s her way of taking a chance on other hopeful performers the way the drag community has taken a chance on—and embraced—her.
“I’ve sort of grown up with drag queens, so the drag influence on my work is very strong,” she shares. “There’s a similarity in what we do. We’re all queer and we’re all practising this art form that is not really recognised by the mainstream.” Indeed, there might be some who dismiss drag or burlesque as art, but if you’ve ever had the chance to watch Lychee perform, there’s no denying the sheer athleticism and artistry that goes into each act.
“What has been empowering about drag and burlesque is realising that sexy is not a body type. It is a way of moving, and it is something I can put on and take off,” she reflects. “The performance persona is a different person that I put on for the performance, so at this point, it’s like she has become a friend. It’s provided me with an important place to grow and to explore certain topics with some distance.”
As for what inspired her playful stage name? She laughs: “I was in the UK at the time and I missed home. I wanted a name that would remind me of home and I just got a kick out of being announced. They weren’t going to know what the name meant, but I knew and it would be fun for me.”
Photography Mun Kong
Styling Bryan Ho
Hair (The Débutante and Chowk) Kenneth Ong/Makeup Entourage
Make-up (The Débutante and Chowk) Hazel Tan/Makeup Entourage
Hair and make-up (Lychee Bye) Lychee Bye and Rolana Lim
Photographer’s assistant Hizuan Zailani
Stylist’s assistant Nurul Firdousee
Production assistant Ting Shing Koh
Vogue Singapore’s April ‘Movement’ issue is out on newsstands and available to purchase online.
