2 days in Singapore

Wednesday February 27 - Thursday February 28, Singapore
It's Wednesday so it must be Singapore. The excellent Julie Delpy movie 2 Days in Paris has brightened my 12-hour flight and I arrive at a sparkling Changi Airport.

The reason for my visit is a visionary piece of Islamic architecture, the Assyafaah Mosque (pronounced Ash-ee-far). Designed by Tan Kok Hiang, the principal partner of Forum Architects, it's a building which aims to converse with the traditions of Islamic architecture while simultaneously embracing the values and aesthetic of contemporary Singapore. Having spent much of last weekend filming at Istanbul's more conventional Blue Mosque, I'm intrigued.

The schedule is extremely tight. HD camera equipment is a rare commodity in Singapore and its consequent hire-costs mean that we'll have to shoot everything in a single day. The forecast is promising clouds, gloom and rain.

To steel myself for the next day, I meet up with an old university friend, Nick Handel. An advertising executive, Nick provides a few useful pointers to the Singaporean mentality -- "it's looking to establish itself as the Switzerland of Asia." "Here you wear your wealth on your sleeve." Certainly the high level of cleanliness, efficiency and countless shopping malls appear to reinforce his conclusions. Nick also kindly indulges my passion for cliché -- we head to Raffles for a Singapore Sling (overly sweet, overly red and overly priced, but of course you still need to order one).
The day of the shoot, and it's an early start. We've decided to employ a local crew rather than take Ian out with us and so at 6.15 am, Malaysian-born camerman Yaw, and the Singaporean driver James arrive at the hotel. We head to the Esplanade (part of Singapore's waterfront) to catch the early morning sun and film some establishing shots of the city. There's more sunshine than I dared hope, and three-quarters of an hour later we're driving to the north of the city to the Assyafaah Mosque.
The mosque is immediately arresting by virtue of what's not there. No conventional minarets, no dome and seemingly no sides to the construction. It feels inclusive, relaxed, informal -- as much social centre as religious building -- an impression confirmed in an enthusiastic welcome by the mosque's manager, Abdul Aziz Awang.
Yaw warns that we won't have the sunshine all day so we take advantage of some bluish skies to film wide shots of the building. It's an opportunity to examine the mosque with a little more care and to think through some further questions with our interviewee, the mosque's architect , Tan Kok Hiang. There's also the chance to meet Micky, the affable sound-man for the day. But of course it's all working a little too smoothly. Blue skies, methodical cameraman, on schedule...
In this case, it's sound which proves our undoing. A surprise for seemingly everybody, a women's conference has been organised for the morning and the Imam's voice is amplified throughout the entire building -- there will be no chance to film the architect on site. We're all disappointed -- particularly as we've just met Mr Tan and have found him to be passionate, charismatic and extremely well-versed in religious architecture. Fortunately, he's gracious and agrees to be filmed in the open air amid the heat and humidity.

Except that next door to the mosque, three pile-drivers have started their thunderous rhythm. Micky goes to the construction site to see whether they'll take a break, but to no effect. It's no win -- Mr Tan has to be away by 11.30 and we're left to choose between deafening amplification and the pile drivers. The pile drivers win-out and we film the interview outside.
Without wishing to flatter the architect (or the film we're making) too outrageously, Mr Tan proves a fantastic guide. He talks through the tensions of a non-Muslim designing an Islamic building. He explains about the absence of a dome (Middle-East tradition, and impossible to maintain amidst the rigours of the Singaporean climate). He enages us with his decision to embrace the Arabesque in much of the design and he's frank about the challenge of working with an artist to realise the single minaret. Chatty and charming, we enjoy a very good couple of hours in his company.
The rest of the day, we're filming details of the interior and it's an opportunity to see the mosque in use. I'm incredibly impressed with Mr Tan's design -- the ablutions space is sleek, stylish and beautifully achieved. The mihrab and sloping qibla feel modern and relevant and there is a community feel to the building -- a breeziness and lightness -- completely different to the other mosques I've visited.
The day rushes on. Yaw applies himself tremendously and takes infinite care over his framing and moves. We break for a quick noodle-lunch and then it’s another three hours of filming interior details.
6pm comes and we rush to Orchard Road, a sort of Singaporean Bond Street to film shoppers and brand-names -- it's just a notion that we might be able to contrast the Assyafaah Mosque with the commercialism of Asia's Switzerland. We'll see...

We wrap at dusk and I head to my friend, Nick's house for supper. It’s not a late night -- Nick's wife is heavily pregnant and I'm flying out early next day. A taxi is ordered and right there I have the smallest insight into life in Singapore. "Your taxi will be with you in exactly four minutes." Sure enough, four minutes later, the taxi arrives. Only in Singapore. (Seb Grant)

Mosques, minarets and meze

Saturday February 23 - Monday February 25, Istanbul, Turkey
"You see these wires? They're connected to a bomb and I'm going to kill British people."

The man fixed his eyes on our cameraman.

"Good idea," responded our cameraman. "I'm South African."

This little exchange occurred in 2003, the last time Illuminations filmed in Istanbul. We were working on a BBC/Canada co-production entitled The World in Art and we had been accosted while shooting in the Sultan Ahmed Mosque. Five years on and we are filming there once again.
Istanbul is, without doubt, one of my favourite European cities: jaw-dropping architecture, incredible food (particularly the sauces, meats, fish and bread), a complex history -- and a generous, warm-hearted, proud population. We (Ian, Nonie and myself) are delighted to be making the journey. (Sorry, but this isn't just one of those paragraphs written to mitigate an uncomfortable opening story.)

Arriving late from Budapest, we are met at the airport by our fixer's colleague, Tunjay, and taken to our hotel just across the square from the mosque. One late meze supper later and we have agreed to meet early to film the sun rising from behind the minarets.
Time-lapse sequences (which can be sped-up to make time pass quickly) are frequently shot by resentful cameramen in isolated surroundings, at unearthly hours in challenging temperatures. Not this one. The hotel's breakfast room overlooks the Mosque and we enjoy the perfect view while stuffing our faces with exotic mueslis, fresh bread, juices and a few Turkish sweets. Oh yes, and of course there's the mosque...Frequently known by tourists as the the Blue Mosque because of its interior blue ceramic tiling, the Sultan Ahmed Mosque is one of the must-see attractions of Istanbul. There is little question of its remarkable contribution to the Istanbul skyline -- constructed between 1609 and 1616, its six 60-metre minarets challenge the dominance of its older neighbour, the Hagia Sofia.

All sorts of myths have grown up around the disproportionally high number of these minarets (most mosques have four or less). One of the most popular is that the architect Sedefhar Mehmet Aga misunderstood Sultan Ahmed I's instructions for the design and confused the word "gold" with "six" -- in Arabic the words are phonetically very similar. At the time the Sultan was accused of presumption -- only Mecca had six minarets -- but Ahmed I eventually pacified his critics by financing the construction of a seventh minaret at Mecca.
Expounding truth, and exposing myth, our interviewee for the mosque is Dr Feridun Ozgumus, a Byzantine expert who is able to talk in great depth about both the Sultan Ahmed Mosque and the Hagia Sofia. I should have been smarter about picking interview locations (just too much human traffic) but once we're settled in the interior of the Blue Mosque itself, I feel that the interview becomes far more focussed and intimate. Feridun is extremely open in talking about his faith and what it means to actively worship in this incredible building. He's also kind enough to explain the various rituals involved in the Islamic act of worship. Interview complete, there's just time to snatch some final interior shots before we lose the sunlight. We enjoy a late supper and retire early.

The next day, Sunday, and we spend the morning filming at the Hagia Sofia. The building predates the Sultan Ahmed Mosque by almost a thousand years and yet to my eye, it's the more remarkable of the two buildings -- and this despite extensive scaffolding supporting the main dome.
Perhaps I'm just more accustomed to an ecclesiastical aesthetic - the Hagia Sofia was formerly a basilica before being transformed into a mosque (and now a museum) but somehow the proportions feel more appropriate - and yes, I suppose I've grown used to appreciating something figurative in buildings of worship (there are some exquisite mosaics still left in the first floor gallery, and on the ceiling and above the mihrab).

We spend the morning filming there and hear rather a good story about the scaffolding -- there's a popular rumour that the scaffolding will never be taken away; not because the restoration process is endless, not because it's structurally supporting the roof -- but simply it's a means of preventing any discussion on whether the museum should be returned to a place of worship. It's an engaging theory.
The afternoon and our fabulous fixer, Munir, pulls off something of a coup; he arranges for us to go to the top of the central minaret of the Sultan Ahmed Mosque and take some shots of Istanbul and the Hagia Sofia. It's a real privilege, although once we're gasping for breath on a pitch-black stairway, we feel slightly less grateful. The views though prove worth it -- and when we get our feet back on the ground, we're exhilirated. Finally, there's a dash for the ferry which takes us across to the other side of the Bosphorus - partly to get some shots of the skyline and partly to boast that we've visited Asia.
Prague, Budapest, Istanbul - it's been a sensational experience to film in all of these cities, but on the final morning, the real pressure kicks in… what to buy other halves at the end of a shoot? For a trip like this one, somehow the airport shop just won't do. (Seb Grant)