虽然时间比较紧，应该赶快前往 F1 Pit Building, 结束今天的招生演讲。面对围拢过来的学生和家长，那样热切而期待能够进入南洋理工大学中文系的心情，我还是继续回答了入学申请、面试、以及大家都感到焦虑的，人工智能对于未来职业发展、人生规划的影响。
刚上出租车，司机就问我：是不是要去看今年的Chingay Parade 妆艺大游行？可能不能直接到入口哦。
我一边喝光水瓶里的水，一边点头：“嗯嗯，OK。”
果然，被指挥交通的警察拦下停车。我走进人群，大家不是拎着饮料，就是捧着餐盒。有的全家老小出游，应和着沿路志愿者的欢迎声，一起共赴一场欢乐的盛典。
盛典从高挂的长串爆竹炸裂，火光四射中展开，是 1973 年第一次妆艺大游行的历史回响。当年为了弥补禁止民众燃放烟花爆竹，失去习俗年味，于是政府组织街头表演和花车大游行，在每年春节期间举行。
我跟着全场上万名观众高举荧光棒，欢迎尚达曼总统站在飞马花车上进场。前一天的主宾是黄循财总理。总统用英文和华语向大家祝福：新年快乐！心想事成！龙马精神！我纳闷周围的人怎么纷纷站起来？然后想想，即使看表演，也不能忽略这基本的礼仪啊。
代表四大族群的四位主持人，带动大家燃起高昂的热情。在圆形游行路线和可升降多层舞台，3000名表演者身着精心设计的服装，载歌载舞。跟着女主角 Little Star 穿梭在四大族群的节日（春节、开斋节、屠妖节和耶诞节），一起追寻今年的主题 “WISH”（愿望）。
华丽多彩的场面，璀璨绚烂的灯光，澎湃跃动的音响，令我开始有些“审美疲劳”了。我轻轻闭上眼睛, 想起上一次看妆艺大游行是2007年，在乌节路。观众坐在临时搭建的看台座椅，也有人站在围栏外，本来就繁荣兴旺的商街更是热闹沸腾。
观看从声音开始。
远远地先听到鼓声或音乐。人们伸长了脖子，向街道远处张望。慢慢地，表演队伍出现了。花车、舞龙、舞狮、鼓阵、舞群，一队接着一队，从远处移动到眼前。有些队伍在观众面前停下来表演一阵，然后继续往前走，渐渐远离视线。在队伍与队伍衔接的空间，人们再次张望。
像是看一幅慢慢展开的长卷，画面一段一段铺开展示，每一组表演队伍就像长卷中的一个段落。观众看到的，是不断向前推进的画面。那种“张望的观看”是：同一时间里，随观看者的位置不同而看到不同的内容。
今年的舞台集中在场地中央，表演者从周边进入会合，像一幅画框里的画面。身体、灯光、音乐和队形在同一个框架空间里排列和退散。360 度环绕着舞台的观众目光聚焦，座位高低不同，视角不同，但是看的是同一个时间里的相同节目。
从街道到舞台，从长卷到画框，妆艺大游行的表演结构形式已经改变。
街道上，它是流动的民间节庆，带着轻松随兴的气息，人们左右张望，等待下一个精彩。舞台上，它是宏大的文化叙事，要求秩序井然，节奏紧凑，观众同时聚焦，多元族群，多元文化，共同打造国家愿景。今年节目还加上了亚细安国家（印尼、菲律宾、泰国等）和日本的表演，将新加坡的国家愿景扩大到了亚洲友邦。
张望与聚焦，妆艺大游行从本土走到了国际。和马来西亚槟城的大旗鼓游行、柔佛新山的游神——世代相传、群体认同、持续再创造，有望成为联合国教科文组织认可的世界非物质文化遗产。
2026年3月14日，新加坡《联合早报》“上善若水”专栏
Gazing and Focusing
I Lo-fen
Although time was tight and I should have hurried to the F1 Pit Building
to wrap up today’s admissions talk, I still kept answering the students and
parents who had gathered around me. Their eagerness and hope of entering the
Chinese programme at Nanyang Technological University were so palpable. So I
continued responding to questions about applications, interviews, and, above
all, the anxiety everyone felt about how artificial intelligence might affect
future careers and life planning.
I had just gotten into a taxi when the driver asked, “Are you going to
watch this year’s Chingay Parade? The car may not be able to get directly to
the entrance.”
As I finished the water in my bottle, I nodded. “Mm-hmm, OK.”
Sure enough, the taxi was stopped by the police directing traffic. I
walked into the crowd. People were either carrying drinks or holding meal
boxes. Some families, young and old together, were out for the occasion,
responding to the volunteers’ cheers along the route as they made their way
toward a joyful grand celebration.
The festivities began with strings of firecrackers hanging high
overhead, bursting open in flashes of light—a historical echo of the very first
Chingay Parade in 1973. Back then, after the government banned the public from
setting off fireworks and firecrackers, the traditional festive atmosphere of
the New Year was diminished. To make up for that loss, street performances and
float parades were organized during the Lunar New Year each year.
Together with tens of thousands of spectators, I waved a glow stick high
in the air to welcome President Tharman, who arrived standing atop a Pegasus
float. The guest of honour the previous day had been Prime Minister Lawrence
Wong. The President offered New Year greetings in English and Chinese: “Happy
New Year! May all your wishes come true! May you be full of vitality and
spirit!” I wondered why so many people around me had suddenly stood up. Then I
thought: even when watching a performance, one cannot neglect basic etiquette.
Four hosts representing Singapore’s four major ethnic communities
stirred the audience into high excitement. Along the circular parade route and
on the multi-level stage that could be raised and lowered, 3,000 performers in
elaborately designed costumes sang and danced. Following the heroine, Little
Star, we moved through the festivals of the four ethnic groups—Chinese New
Year, Hari Raya, Deepavali, and Christmas—in pursuit of this year’s theme,
“WISH.”
The gorgeous colours, dazzling lights, and surging sound eventually
began to give me a kind of aesthetic fatigue. I gently closed my eyes and
recalled the last time I watched the Chingay Parade, in 2007, on Orchard Road.
Spectators sat in temporary grandstands, while others stood outside the
railings. The already bustling commercial street was even more lively and
festive.
Watching began with sound.
From far away, one first heard drums or music. People stretched their
necks, gazing into the distance down the street. Gradually, the performing
groups came into view. Floats, dragon dances, lion dances, drum troupes, and
dance ensembles—one after another, they moved from afar into the foreground.
Some groups would stop in front of the audience for a while to perform, then
continue onward, slowly disappearing from sight. In the gaps between one group
and the next, people would once again gaze into the distance.
It was like watching a handscroll slowly unfold, the imagery revealed
section by section, each performance troupe like one segment in the scroll.
What the audience saw was an ever-advancing series of images. This kind of
“gazing spectatorship” meant that, at the same moment in time, different
viewers saw different things depending on where they stood.
This year, however, the stage was concentrated in the centre of the
venue, and performers entered from the periphery and converged there, like an
image framed within a picture frame. Bodies, lighting, music, and formations
were arranged and dispersed within the same framed spatial structure. The
audience, seated all around the stage in 360 degrees, focused their gaze.
Although their seats differed in height and angle, they were all watching the
same programme at the same moment in time.
From street to stage, from handscroll to frame, the structural form of
the Chingay Parade has changed.
On the street, it was a flowing folk festival with an easy, spontaneous
atmosphere. People looked left and right, waiting for the next exciting moment.
On the stage, it became a grand cultural narrative that demanded order, tight
rhythm, and collective focus. Diverse ethnic groups and diverse cultures joined
together to shape a national vision. This year’s programme also included
performances from ASEAN countries—such as Indonesia, the Philippines, and
Thailand—as well as Japan, extending Singapore’s national vision to its Asian
friends and partners.
Gazing and focusing: the Chingay Parade has moved from the local to the
international. Like Penang’s Big Flag Drum Procession in Malaysia and Johor
Bahru’s Chingay procession—traditions passed down across generations, rooted in
collective identity, and sustained through continuous reinvention—it may well
one day be recognized by UNESCO as part of the world’s intangible cultural
heritage.
March 14, 2026, “Shang Shan Ruo Shui” column,
Lianhe Zaobao, Singapore
