First of all, it must be said that this gallery in the National Museum of Singapore has ambitions. It takes a bold approach in trying to present Singapore’s history from the 14th century to the modern period over 2,800 square metres with the minimum of text. In fact, I can’t remember actually standing in front of a graphic panel to read text once during the whole visit. This means that it relies heavily on its portable audio system.
This is almost like your own portable interactive terminal. It provides commentary from ordinary Singapore citizens (for instance, cleverly filling in the time it takes to make the long walk around the audiovisual drum that carries the introductory show), as well as the more authoritative voice of the museum. It allow you to make choices along the way of what to listen to, with the information broken down into chapters. It has the obvious advantages of being available in various languages and so does away with the need for extensive text on the walls in several languages. It also carries some atmospheric pieces of audio such as an American woman tourist visiting a 19th-century opium den. On the down side, it is heavy. I was carrying a camera and camera bag, and felt at times like an inquisitive pack horse. Also, it becomes a bit tedious typing in numbers to get information and in the end I gave up (and I’m supposed to be super-interested!).
The visit to the history galleries begins with a 360 degree audiovisual show housed within a large drum. Walking across a bridge you are surrounded by a kaleidoscope of images of Singapore backed by a soundtrack drawing on a fusion of modern and traditional music. I imagine the intention was to provide an impressionistic overview of Singapore but I have to say that it came across as somewhat corporate and, to me, didn’t really convey the visual richness of the place that you can experience by just walking through Little India, for instance. It could have been artistically more arresting and emotive – especially given the scale and technology employed. Also, I can’t help feel that the bridge-across-the-drum audiovisual experience is a little hackneyed.
After a brief overview of very early Singapore, the visitor is able to choose whether to follow a personal or events-based path through the gallery. This is another nice innovation and gives a sense of being able to exercise preference in the way you use the gallery. It is also good that it is easy enough to access either path if you want to switch, and it is not a problem to see the content of both strands.
At points through the exhibition loosely grouped objects provide a tableau as context for a display case or key object.
It seems obvious that from an early stage in the design that lighting was seen as almost a historical character in itself. The entire gallery is a black box space and you move from one beautifully (but dimly)-lit scene to another. You feel almost as if you have stumbled onto the set of a particularly depressing play. And just when you thought it couldn’t get any more melancholy …. the Japanese invade.
Here however, the audio guide really comes into it own and you can listen to the recollections of ordinary people caught up in the turmoil of war, such as the women trained to be soldiers by the Japanese.
As you reach more modern times, I was surprised that the unrelenting gloom did not lift. If anything, one’s surroundings become more Brutalist and you listen to Lee Kuan Yew speech announcing the separation from Malaysia in an area that feels like a building site project hut (maybe that was the point). And how many times have I visited a chronologically-organised exhibition where ideas (and, dare I say it, money) just seem to peter out. Clients and designers should make sure that at every other meeting they discuss the gallery in reverse so that the end of the visit receives as much attention and creative energy as the beginning. Or perhaps the closer we get to our own times, the less they capture our imaginations. It was with some relief that I handed in the brick-weight audio guide and emerged into the light.
The Singapore History Gallery at the National Museum of Singapore is a laudable attempt to bring something new to historical interpretation. There are some innovative approaches here but, however dark the spaces, it is hard to disguise that the displays themselves are quite conventional. Despite the attempt to avoid didacticism, I had an overall feeling of having spent an hour wandering through a 3-dimensional lecture by a depressive professor. Here, the past is not only a foreign country, but also a place where no one seemed to have had much fun.
The National Museum of Singapore is at 93 Stanford Rd and is open 10am – 8pm daily. Admission is S$10 for adults and S$5 for seniors, children and students.
