“I call it a tragicomedy, in two acts, based very much on my past life as a literature teacher,” is how Weish introduces Secondary: The Musical.
Known for her immersive, experimental soundscapes, Weish is one of Singapore’s most prominent musicians today. But less than a decade ago, she had a very different life—as a secondary school literature teacher. Now, stepping into the roles of playwright and composer, she brings that experience to the stage in Checkpoint Theatre’s upcoming musical.
“The show tries to deal with big and difficult issues of policy, or how our systems are structured, through the very small lens of a few characters and what their day-to-day really looks like on the ground. The gritty ins and outs of every morning for both teachers and students, and what doors are open or closed to a child from a young age, and why. Those are the types of questions I hope to raise in a very, hopefully, down-to-earth and real way,” she shares.
The result is a hilarious and deeply moving piece of theatre that takes us back to the classrooms and hallways of a local secondary school, unveiling the joys, beauty and heartbreak found within its walls with profound nuance. We meet young teacher Lilin, who’s spread thin trying to help her students through another term. We encounter Secondary 3 students Ming, Omar, and Reyansh—who are exhausted, but still trying to overcome challenges in school and at home with courage and poise. At the heart of the show, lies a question keenly relevant and utterly familiar to anyone who has grown up in a Singapore school: what happens when life is dictated by a final grade?
Here, Weish takes us through the process of creating Secondary: The Musical—both as a musician, and a former teacher—and what she is most excited for audiences to see in the show.
How did this project come about?
I have been collaborating with Checkpoint in various capacities, from sound design to music directing, for more than 10 years—and some of those years I juggled while teaching full-time. Huzir and Claire, who run the company, have been absorbing all my teaching stories over the years, from the really nonsensical, absurd and funny ones, to the really heartbreaking and dark ones, and I didn’t realise how much it stuck with them. In 2020, they invited me to be an associate artist at Checkpoint, and Huzir came up with the idea of this show, to which I initially said no [laughs], because I’m a musician, and it was bizarre to think of myself as a playwright in such a big way. But some convincing and writing experiments took place, and over three years of several drafts, countless table reads and rounds of feedback with the Checkpoint team, we slowly pieced the show together with the dedicated help of Huzir as my dramaturg, cheerleader, and mentor.
So writing a musical wasn’t always something you saw yourself doing?
No, but recently, someone asked me what my earliest dream was as a child, and suddenly, I remembered that I had wanted to make a musical. That was one of the earliest things I said as a kid, and I completely forgot, because as an adult, I’m not really big on the genre. It has re-emerged in my life in a strange way.
What were some of the challenges you faced while writing it?
My biggest challenge at the start was that I like some musicals, but not many. I think it’s my own inability to suspend my disbelief when characters break into song as they banter, or argue, or have difficult conversations. I’ve never been able to access that mode of expression authentically, and even as I tried to do it while writing, I didn’t manage to fully do so without cringing. So we refined it and found a middle ground. The show toggles between naturalistic dialogue and full song mode, but also goes into a strange, surreal in-between, so that these journeys in and out of realism feel more gradual.
“You see the inner workings of a system that sometimes works, but sometimes lets people fall through the cracks”
I imagine your experience as a teacher must have had a huge impact on this show—how did it shape your writing of the musical?
I think it was about that huge mix of emotions. There’s a very real joy of being a part of people’s lives at a formative age. Teenagers make so many discoveries about the world and themselves through those years, and getting to witness that is a privilege that I enjoyed tremendously. At the same time, as a teacher, you see behind the curtain. You see the inner workings of a system that sometimes works, but sometimes lets people fall through the cracks or prematurely closes doors for kids who deserve more. It was a lot of heartbreak to witness as well.
As somebody who grew up with a fair amount of privilege, teaching was eye-opening for me in that, yes, we all know inequality exists. But to be faced with some students who have never read a storybook, been to a cinema, or even stepped foot outside of their neighbourhood before—it was shocking. It’s really these things that stayed with me for a long time.
I know that policies have changed and systems around streaming and banding have been evolving in healthy and progressive ways, but the play is rooted in 2015, though it draws from my experiences over many more years across different schools. Some of the structures it comments on are slightly outdated, but I can only write from what I know, and I feel like—from the conversations I’ve had with teachers still teaching—the spirit of the issues still remain today.
Were there any parts of your teaching experience that you immediately knew you wanted to include in the musical, from the moment you started writing it?
One of the things I knew from really early on was that I wanted to include the unlikely friendships that form in the civil service. I became really good friends with a very ‘uncle’ teacher, with lots of dad jokes, but such a sweetheart. In no other context outside of being colleagues would we have become friends. We were on such different wavelengths. But we grew close in a way that I thought was really precious, and he taught me so much about life and how to draw boundaries but still be a human being. That was a friendship that I wanted very much to incorporate.
“I’m most excited about the music to be honest, because it’s nothing like the kind of music you would expect in a musical”
How did you feel throughout the writing process? What was it like to put such a huge experience from your life into words?
Some parts of the writing process were joyful and funny. My fiance, who is also assistant director of the production, has been by my side reminding me of silly stories I used to tell and funny things that students used to say or do.
Huzir, in his dramaturgy, prompted me to think about how much lightness and darkness the play should carry, and the balance between thinking about my audience but also staying true to the experience I want to represent. So it’s been really joyful at times, and really cathartic at other times. A lot of my unprocessed trauma re-emerged, but with the distance of fiction and seeing scenes played out via actors. I remember an audition scene that I had to watch over and over again, and I just kept stepping out of the room to cry, because it was a memory that I hadn’t fully processed.
There also have been parts that are illuminating, in that I’m reflecting on how I was as a teacher in 2015. Back then, you’re always the hero of your own story, right? And it’s so easy to play the victim. But now, putting it all on the table and shining a light on it has taught me how deeply flawed I was as a teacher, and all of the blind spots that I hadn’t seen back then.
Is there a particular aspect of the show that you’re most excited for audiences to see?
I’m most excited about the music to be honest, because it’s nothing like the kind of music you would expect in a musical. I wouldn’t say it’s crazy experimental or alternative, but it’s just not musical theatre style. It ranges from really hard electronic stuff to some folk and a smattering of hip-hop. It’s a mixed bag that all coheres in its own strange way, in a sonic world that has been described as very signature to my sound, but also has been very beautifully affected and balanced by our collaborators PK Records. They’re an independent label helmed by Ian Lee, who is a producer that I admire a lot, and they’ve been helping me out with building the sonic world and doing arrangements and production as well.
What do you hope audiences take away from the show?
There’s a spectrum. I hope audiences feel the sincerity of the show. Perhaps for audiences who have an easier time in our education system, I hope they see through the alternate lens of students who experience the same system in a very different way. And for anyone who’s struggling within systems that don’t always favour them, I hope that they feel seen. And I hope the show, in general, springs more conversation about how we can truly get closer to a real meritocracy and level the playing field as we go.
“It’s been a great mix of new, alternative and unexpected ideas and approaches, but also so much wisdom and experience in the rehearsal room”
What has been the most meaningful part about working on this project?
The most meaningful part has been the collaboration, the conversations and the sharing—with Huzir and the assistant directors, with the cast, the designers, and the whole production team. Them injecting their own life and colour into this show, bringing their own secondary school memories, and their own joy and pain and lived experiences onto the rehearsal floor, has brought so much new meaning to the production.
Our cast ranges from very veteran actors to really fresh faces—some of them our leads—and there’s such a vast range of experience that’s really a joy to work with. Coming in, I’ve written 12-part harmonies and cannons and all kinds of things, but I have no experience as a choral conductor. But we’ve got people with choral or musical theatre training, or who’ve been a part of choirs. And we’ve got some people who aren’t singers at all, but just sing well and have their own kind of style and unique character, which is what we prioritised in auditions. So it’s been a great mix of new, alternative and unexpected ideas and approaches, but also so much wisdom and experience in the room. I’m very lucky to have them point me to all these ways of refining and improving the work.
Purchase tickets to Secondary: The Musical here.
