Apa Khabar, Baju Kebaya?

Baba Bryan Tan gets wrapped in a Tapestry of Peranakan Stories at i12 Katong

On a balmy July afternoon, the i12 Katong atrium shimmered with sarongs and song as A Tapestry of Peranakan Stories presented “Apa Khabar, Baju Kebaya (How are you, baju kebaya)?” — a vivid celebration of culture, fashion, and storytelling. It was less a performance than a reunion: of heritage and humour, music and memory, old souls and young hearts.

Taking centre stage were cultural stalwarts Baba GT Lye and Baba Richard Tan, both exchanging cheeky banter in Baba Malay and singing popular dondang sayang (love song) tunes, accompanied by the elegant Melissa Sidek, an actress-singer known for her multilingual stage presence. At 86, GT Lye — affectionately known as the “grand dame” of Peranakan theatre — bantered effortlessly in his signature baju panjang (long tunic), while Baba Richard, Artistic Director of GenerAsia, countered with comic flair and panache.

But as the trio sang and spoke almost entirely in Baba Malay, it became clear that some members of the crowd struggled to follow along — a poignant reminder of how quickly language, like lace, can fray without care.

Nyonya Melissa Sidek and Baba Richard Tan serving up Peranakan tunes and witty banter to an eager crowd in the atrium of i12 Katong

(Left to right) Nyonya Melissa Sidek, doyen Baba GT Lye, Nyonya Jackie Pereira, and Baba Richard Tan pose for a picture post performance

After the show, I caught up with Baba Richard Tan and Baba Alvin Tan — the latter a Cultural Medallion-winning theatre director and founder of The Necessary Stage, whose work often bridges tradition with contemporary commentary. For them, the baju kebaya is more than attire — it’s an identity. “When nyonyas meet, it’s always, ‘Eh, what you wearing?’” Alvin chuckled. “We’re a tracker culture — we notice, we comment. It becomes the talking point.”

The theme “Apa Khabar, Baju Kebaya?” was chosen not just for its poetry, but for its provocation — inviting reflection on how heritage is worn, seen, and felt today. “It’s like a flower attracting butterflies,” said Richard, “but after that, you must educate.” Both were candid about the challenges of balancing preservation with innovation. “We must respect the original,” Alvin noted, “but also create safe spaces for younger people to make it theirs. Don’t judge them for experimenting — bless them, guide them.”

One such example was a performance they created featuring a memorial wall in place of an ancestral altar — a modern twist that earned praise from the ever-wise GT Lye. “Better to be remembered this way than not at all,” he said. That, to Richard, is the Peranakan spirit: resilient, adaptive, and ever cheeky. As our conversation wrapped, I asked what message they’d like to leave for young Peranakans.

“Don’t just take selfies,” Alvin said with a grin. “Use your platform to carry the culture with you.”

“Use us while we’re still here,” Richard added, more softly. “Before the window closes.”

At once playful and profound, their words echoed long after the music faded — a gentle reminder that the kebaya is still very much alive, and still has stories to tell.