‘YOU SEE BETTER IN THE DARK’
A concert in the dark proves to be a mindblowing experience for those who fear ‘the unknown’
WHEN Stevens told me that I would see better in the dark, I couldn’t quite control my scepticism. My mind immediately had visuals of a pair of military night binoculars and goggles.
I wasn’t about to argue with Stevens, but for one week, I kept hearing his voice telling me that I would see better in the dark.
So, when the day arrived, I made my way to Ara Damansara in Subang to see what exactly Stevens had in mind.
Stevens is Stevens Chan, founder of the Malaysian chapter of German-based Dialogue in the Dark.
He is a social entrepreneur who lost his sight in 2007 when he was 45.
Glaucoma took his sight away, but this did not stop him from motivating and helping other visually-impaired people to see better in the dark.
So, last week, Stevens insisted I joined him and his team to experience a concert in the dark! I had attended one of his workshops before and it was very interesting.
I wasn’t expecting less for his concert in the dark. As it turned out, it was another mind-blowing experience.
There were about 500 people waiting patiently to see the show. When it was time, they were ushered into the hall in groups of three or four.
As I had half expected, we were guided into a pitch-black hall, each holding the hand of the person in front of us to walk in single file.
There was not a ray of light in the hall. Only the voice of our usher telling us to walk and not be afraid of falling because the hall was flat and there were no steps to walk on.
All of us had to surrender our mobile phones and watches before entering the hall. I suppose the organisers didn’t want us to use the phone as a torchlight and, thus, spoil the night.
Not everyone can accept the dark.
A few guests had to leave because they couldn’t adapt to the dark. To some people, the dark can be terrifying and really scary.
When everyone was seated, a male voice boomed, welcoming us. No visual, just audio. Just his voice.
A female voice joined him and gave us a brief explanation of what to expect.
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the concert in the dark. Yes, you will be entertained to a concert here in this total darkness.
“You won’t be able to see the performers, and neither can they see you. This is a unique experience you are about to have. Enjoy the night and just absorb everything that goes on,” the male voice told us.
I couldn’t make out where I was seated, where the stage was and where the performers were. They could be on a stage many metres away and I could be way back at one corner.
There were two live bands performing one after another, two stand-up comedians, and a solo guitarist and singer.
In the dark, I could hear very clearly each word of the lyrics and every beat of the drum. Each time the singers took a breath, I could hear them, too!
It was the same with the solo singer-guitarist.
His voice was crisp and it was as if he was singing just next to me. That was how clear it was. In the dark, everything seemed closer.
It was as if a bond existed between the performers and the audience; an affinity of sorts.
The next live band, a fusion band formed in the 1980s called Flame of the Forest, was from Singapore.
It was just brilliant, I thought. In the dark, the sound of the tabla (Indian hand drums) and sitar was simply mesmerising.
The band admitted that this was the first time it had performed in complete darkness.
The band leader said that it was a challenge for them.
“We can’t see you and you can’t see us. But I can feel you close to me, as if our music has brought all of us closer together.”
He was right actually. Using only our sense of hearing, we were able to enjoy every beat of the tabla and sitar.
Only later did I learnt that it was an electric sitar and that the band boys were Chinese and not Indians!
Two of the band boys were Krsna and Govind, both Indian names. They introduced themselves in the dark just before they performed and you can’t blame me for thinking that they were Indians.
After almost two hours of music, the lights came on. Lo and behold — I was just a couple of metres away from the performers. What a revelation it turned out to be after that.
Krsna and Govind were not dark-skinned at all since both were Chinese. All the performers stood, clapping us and the audience clapping them. I learnt immediately that stereotyping of individuals by their names is a big NO.
One other thing — the ushers who guided each one of us to our seats were all visually-impaired.
But they could “see” very clearly and got us seated in no time.
I learnt, too, that when you lose your sense of sight, your other senses become heightened. You will appreciate all your senses and realise that one missing sense could render you incomplete.
Stevens said: “Our goal is to raise awareness and create tolerance for ‘otherness’ in the general public, thereby overcoming barriers between us and them.
“We create jobs for disadvantaged people by turning deficits into potentials, thus, strengthening self-esteem of individuals who may be seen to be of less value.”
I learnt, too, that when you lose your sense of sight, your other senses become heightened. You will appreciate all your senses and realise that one missing sense could render you incomplete.