Culture Capital

Meet the entrepreneurs who have made championing the arts their business

LUCID PROSE EDMUND WEE

Singapore literature, or Sing Lit in short, has one of its biggest champions in Edmund Wee. Not only is the publisher and CEO of Epigram Books behind the country’s richest literary award, known as the Epigram Books Fiction Prize (EBFP), the trade imprint he started in 2011 (“when the term ‘Sing Lit’ didn’t even exist yet”) has remained true to its premise “to champion homegrown literary talents”—and then some.

“A country needs to have its own stories,” says Wee, and Epigram Books has steadily contributed over

300 books throughout the past 10 years, with upwards of 40 new releases annually. The breakthrough came in 2015 when it published Singaporean graphic novelist Sonny Liew’s The Art of Charlie Chan Hock Chye, a fictional retelling of Singapore’s history, which despite losing its government publishing grant became an international bestseller, and won three Eisner awards, the comics equivalent to the Oscars. “If you ask me, it is Singapore’s most famous novel. We can now talk about Singapore literature on the world stage,” enthuses Wee. The book has since been translated into various languages, including French and Portuguese, as well as traditional and simplified Chinese.

In that same year, the independent publisher also initiated EBFP to award Singapore writers of unpublished English language novels. “Before this, Singaporeans mainly wrote poetry and even short stories, but there weren’t many writing novels. Or maybe they did, but they didn’t get published. With the book prize, we have published many of these novels,” shares Wee, waving to the wall of books at the Huggs‑epigram Coffee Bookshop, where we meet for this interview and photo shoot.

The initial $20,000 prize money was doubled after the first year, and now one winner receives $25,000, while three other finalists get $5,000 each, as an advance against future royalties. In 2020, the prize was opened to writers within Asean. Wee cites some now‑accomplished authors, who were published through the initiative, while making sure to highlight: “I won’t say that it’s because of us, but we consider these small wins for the literary arts.”

Case in point: Singaporean author Balli Kaur Jaswal, whose second book, Sugarbread, was a 2015 EBFP finalist. She’s since published internationally with Harpercollins/william Morrow in the UK and US. Then, there’s Jeremy Tiang, whose debut novel, State of Emergency, was a 2016 EBFP finalist. In 2018, the writer and translator worked on the English translation for Hong Kong action star Jackie Chan’s memoir.

Despite these extraordinary times, EBFP still continues to publish shortlisted manuscripts. This year, in lieu of a gala dinner, which was cancelled due to the pandemic, it expanded the shortlist from four to six novels, with a total prize money of $50,000. “Every year, I go out and raise money specifically for the book prize, finding sponsors and donors, from big corporations to private individuals,” shares Wee.

Such is his dedication to keeping the literary arts scene alive, even “as a literary publisher, we struggle to break even”. The Huggs‑epigram Coffee Bookshop, which opened in 2019, at the URA Centre on Maxwell Road, has been good for business but when it had to close during the circuit breaker period last year, overall sales plunged despite the spike of up to 30 per cent at the online Epigram Bookshop. Epigram Books also had to close its UK operations in January this year, which put paid to Wee’s ambition of getting a Singapore book on the longlist of the prestigious Man Booker Prize.

Even so, he is in this for the long haul, even going as far as toying with the idea of becoming a non‑profit literary foundation. “Since publishing doesn’t make us money anyway, why don’t we become a non‑profit to administer the book prize, translate and publish books in Southeast Asian languages to English, organise a festival of Southeast Asian literature, and maybe start new prizes and one for children’s books. Maybe this is one way out of the financial dilemma, if we can get more people to support the cause.”

So what is it about publishing a new book or author that still excites Wee? “It’s finding a story that gives you new insight into your society or people of your country, apart from the obvious literary merits of plot, prose and personality,” says the former journalist and psychologist, who started the design agency Epigram in 1991, designing corporate literature and books, and who was named Designer of the Year at the 2008 President’s Design Award.

“I don’t have ambitions to become the biggest publisher in the world. As long as people in Singapore read the books we publish, and their lives and Singapore society, and maybe that of Southeast Asia, are enriched through these books, then that’s good enough.”

PLAY ON PETER NG

The pandemic has been hard on businesses, especially on small live music venues like Maduro, but thankfully the listening lounge and bar on Dempsey Hill can now welcome back customers for food and drinks. Owner Peter Ng and his team have introduced a new cocktail menu inspired by tunes of various eras, accompanied with a spread of bar bites. For the first‑time F&B entrepreneur, this is part of the steep learning curve he has been on since 2019, when he opened the cosy spot, which can seat up to 50 people—fewer with the current social distancing measures.

Even so, the regulars come here for the music, be it jazz or classical, and the musicians look forward to the live jam sessions. While the who’s who of the local jazz scene, Jeremy Monteiro and Louis Soliano included, have played at Maduro, Ng is known to support the careers of musicians, often giving them the platform to hone their craft and, of course, a ready audience.

Ng would know the challenges of being a musician for he spent his youth in the 1970 and ’80s as a professional pianist (he later moved to real estate) playing jazz and pop tunes and accompanying songbirds the likes of Frances Yip and Anita Sarawak at some of Singapore’s top live music spots of yesteryear such as the Tiara Supper Club at Shangri‑la Hotel and Westin’s Palm Grill. So when the space for Maduro came up, Ng did not hesitate. “It’s not by choice, but by chance. Music and piano have always been part of me. Real estate is a function of survival, where I have managed to find a niche and developed that.”

“I have musicians coming up to me saying, ‘Peter, thank you for giving us a place to play.’ This is my way of offering a lifeline. As an artist, you need an audience, you need a venue to play. And I have customers who tell me they now have somewhere to go—so that’s very encouraging and gives me satisfaction,” shares Ng, before adding, “But losing money is no satisfaction. So I have to find a balance. I know where I want to take Maduro and what it’s going to be, but we’re evolving every time.”

“For the musicians, they get to showcase their art. For us, live streaming is about presentation, production, branding and association” — PETER NG

In August last year, Maduro kicked off a series of live streams on its virtual home Maduro Social, bringing live music from its “living room” to the living rooms of music lovers in Singapore and around the world. A series called Genfree is produced in collaboration with the Yong Siew Toh (YST) Conservatory of Music, while the Sunday Sundown Social sessions have so far featured jazz singers Alemay Fernandez and Richard Jackson, jazz musician Chok Kerong and soprano Christina Thé.

Ng is most concerned with putting out good programming and quality productions. He has also tapped on the National Arts Council’s Digital Presentation Grant for the Arts to boost Maduro’s live streaming capabilities. “We are very proud of what we have, so we have to maintain the perception that people have of us. For the musicians, they get to showcase their art. For us, it’s about presentation, production, branding and association—there’s so much more breadth and depth to the matter. And you are getting good‑quality music as the acoustics in the room is beautiful. It almost looks like a TV production, with host Michelle Martin.”

While he wants to do more of such live streams, funding is a consideration. “We can only dedicate so much because there is no live audience, and it costs thousands of dollars. And we have to lock in the place, no guest can come in for drinks. So coming back to the production, it has to be of a certain level of sophistication in order to keep us relevant and entice our audience until the point where we are able to resume live performances again.”

Ng is currently working with YST to revamp some of Maduro’s programmes. “This is a crossover of music. We are a jazz bar and YST has different genres of music: classical, jazz, contemporary. We want to align ourselves as a venue outside of a conservatory. We are working to see what we can come up with. You come to a nice bar and listen to classical music—you change the whole setting and understanding of it. We are connecting the senses—and that is something we would like to try doing.”