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Articles by Teo Xiao Ting
‘Yee I-Lann: Mansau-Ansau’: not all who wander are lost
We begin with the story of two birds: the sociable weaver, and the kampung chicken. A sociable weaver’s nest often resembles the hollowed-out husk of a coconut, a dense and delicate lattice of grasses and leaves stitched together by beak. As fledglings, these industrious little creatures spend a good deal of their time poking and pulling strands of grass and blades of leaf through any holes they can find.
Movement as survival: the migratory paths of “Eclipse” and “The Troupe”
In a field I am the absence of field. This is always the case. Wherever I am I am what is missing. When I walk I part the air and always the air moves in to fill the spaces where my body’s been. We all have reasons for moving. I move to keep things whole. Keeping Things Whole, Mark Strand As a young first-generation migrant, I sometimes felt fettered by my over-dutiful nature and fatigued by my tendency to hyper-empathise.
To see, and be seen: a close watch of ‘Small Hours of the Night’
“Small Hours of the Night” opens on a young man smoking a cigarette. Half cast in shadow, he cuts a pensive, enigmatic figure. Two unhurried minutes pass before he notices another person nearby. Without pleasantries, but not unkindly, like he has been expecting the arrival of someone familiar, he invites them to sit down. His eyes linger on them, and he breaks his gaze only when offscreen, a hesitant female voice ventures: “You know, I know we have a very good relationship.
Singaporeans’ political interests and imperatives: Jom’s first voter sentiment survey
Cost of living and housing are by far the most pressing political issues for Singaporeans, far outstripping concerns like immigration, working conditions, and race relations. There is some variation within age and racial groups—Gen Zs and Malays, for instance, are relatively more concerned than other ages and races, respectively, about Israel and Palestine. But even for them, the general emphasis on prosaic concerns holds true.
For the love of art books: creative practice and independent publishing in South-east Asia
I remember the first time I held an art book in my hands—a small, handmade zine made by a friend. As I flipped through its pages, slightly uneven and covered in smudged ink, it felt like an invitation to step into the artist’s world: filled with sketches of their everyday life, woven with their musings on the unnoticed beauty of the ordinary. Unlike anything I’d ever bought in a bookstore, this was a piece of someone’s creative process, a work of art that I could touch, revisit, and carry with me.
#110: Aparna Nambiar and Teo Xiao Ting on encountering the Earth through art
Dear reader, This is Corrie Tan, Jom’s arts editor, saying hello in a newsletter that begins with goodbye. We are looking for a new head of research. Jean, our Employee #1 who took a gamble on a small media start-up, is leaving Jom in February. Part of me wants to clone her for this full-time position so I can continue mainlining her drip feed of pop culture trivia, political gossip, and home-baked desserts for every occasion.
On exposure and protection: “REFUGE” by The Observatory
On the black vinyl floor, a thin layer of grey shimmers gently. Under this translucent fabric, a silhouette: curved, foetal, hidden from our view—for now. Moments before crossing the theatre’s threshold, Johari Kazura from Sifr Aromatics greets us at the front-of-house with scents created just for “REFUGE”. They’re meant to evoke the damp of forest floor mulch and the pungent musk of animal droppings. After talking us through these olfactory layers, he offers to dab the perfume on our wrists.
“SUARA / ORO RUA”: language fails as the earth speaks
A hush falls over the audience as the theatre’s lights dim and a low, guttural sound rumbles forth from behind closed curtains. This grows into a wave of human voices that crests as the curtains rise. A naked rock face looms over ten bodies that lie in tattered, mud-coloured garments. Their lips do not move; it is as if the rocks themselves are sounding a quiet alarm.
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