Things began in 1975: the world’s\nfirst home computers were made available to the public; American Congress had\nsigned the Foreign Assistance Act, leaving the Republic of Vietnam to its fate;\nand Marion D’Cruz, who would become one of Malaysia’s most important dance\npractitioners, was walking the corridors of the Universiti Sains Malaysia, a\nsophomore student in the country’s first Department of Performing Arts.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Before they became home to an\neducational institution, the USM campus in Pulau Pinang had been a military\nbase. “I was heading to our theatre space, which was called Sasaran,\nbecause it was formerly a shooting range,” Marion told me. “That was\nwhen I saw Janet, who was in her first year at the time. I didn’t know her,\nthen. I started walking with her.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Janet was KL mari,”\nMarion said. “She had seen some stuff in KL, and she knew people in\nLIDRA,” — the Universiti of Malaya’s Literary and Dramatic Association,\nwhich was founded by theatre director and critic Krishen Jit — “So she\nwas quietly obnoxious and arrogant. I was from Johor Bahru. I was equally\nobnoxious and arrogant, of course — but not as laid back.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Janet Pillai wasn’t even in the same\nprogramme — she was studying Sociology in the School of Social Sciences — but\nthe two became fast friends. 32 years later, Janet (now a veteran arts educator,\nand heritage and youth theatre advocate) and fellow university-mate Anne James\n(one of the most revered stage actresses in the Klang Valley today) would join\nMarion in “Bunga Manggar Bunga Raya”: a celebration of diversity,\n“a swashbuckling performance of Malaysian stories,” — Marion’s first\nfull-length project in years, and perhaps her last.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Getting In<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n “Back then, my father said that\ncomputers were going to be the next big thing,” Marion told me. “It\nwas either study that, or library science.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n By the time she was in Form Six,\nhowever, she had her mind made: it was going to be the performing arts. “I\nwanted to do it in Malaysia; I didn’t want to go overseas.” The Universiti\nSains Malaysia had opened its arts department in 1971, three years before. “Right\ntime, right place,” Marion observed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n USM was Marion’s first choice during\napplication; her admission, she admits, was a fluke. “My Form Six results\nwere not great. But, obviously the number of Indians applying was not so big,\nthen. So I got in. Odd thing about the quota system.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n Marion chuckled slyly as she said\nthis. Marion is a regal woman, now in her 50s, with closed cropped hair and a\nsmile frequently sardonic; that evening, a week before the opening of\n“Bunga Manggar Bunga Raya”, I was meeting with her and Anne James to\nlisten to them reminisce about university.<\/p>\n\n\n\n “If you look at us now you\nwouldn’t believe it, but back then Anne and I looked alike,” Marion said.\n“We both had the same hair. People kept asking us: ‘Do you have an older\nsister here?’ “<\/p>\n\n\n\n Anne entered USM in Janet’s batch;\n1975 was her first year, as well. “You know how you have to fill out your\nfive choices in your university application?” she asked me. “I wanted\nto do Law, or History.” It didn’t take long for that resolve to weaken, however,\nthe young woman was seduced in her first semester. “I took a class called\n‘Introduction to Performing Arts’,” Anne told me, “And I switched\nmajors.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n Anne speaks softly, with an even and\ncalculated air — during our interview, however, the glow in her voice was\nunmistakable. “I grew up in Alor Setar, she said. “Before that, I had\nnever left home. University was amazingly liberating.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n Playing with Identity<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n In the years succeeding the May 13th<\/sup>\nRiots, the biggest cultural question for Malaysians was the nature of our\nnational identity, and the students at USM embraced those ruminations. ‘We were\ntaking ownership of Malay forms in an academic, deep way,” Marion said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n “It was exciting,” Anne\nagreed. “We were using traditional forms, mixing them with modern forms,\nmerging them.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n USM Pulau Pinang was master dalang Pak Hamzah bin Awang Mat’s first teaching appointment. He and fellow lecturer Patricia Matusky — who had a PhD in wayang kulit music — were responsible for one of the most important campus performances of Marion’s years there. “It was the first time we ever did wayang kulit,” Marion remembered. “It was, for the first time, a non-Malay, non-male<\/em> performance of wayang. We were in it. Janet was playing the gong, Anne played the canang, and I was the dalang. We were scared.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n Although students in the USM\nperforming arts were expected to know the traditions and conventions of the\nforms they were studying inside out, experimentation ran rampant and unchecked.\n“It was: ‘Yes, we have to have rigour,'” Marion said, “But on\nthe other hand, we’d say: ‘Nevermind lah.’ That, for me, was really\nlife-threatening.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n Of course, not all trials are successes; some were nothing short of abysmal. Dramatist, director, newspaper editor Kee Thuan Chye was in Marion’s year, at university — and, although he was a literature student, he had free run of Sasaran. “He was the enfant terrible of our generation,” Marion said. “We hero-worshipped him. So when he wanted to do Kabuki, we all joined in.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n The show was called ‘Narukami’: Janet\nwas assistant director; Anne and Marion were leads. As research, they had only\nwatched film about the form. “It was so bad,” Marion said, “What\nthe fuck did we know about Kabuki?” Then she smiled. “Still, we did\nit with great gusto.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n Anne placed the vitality of this\npioneering spirit in the fact that the faculty were, themselves, trying out the\nboundaries of their vocations — after all, an all-women wayang kulit\nperformance was as much a first for Pak Hamzah as it was for Anne, Marion, and\nJanet. “The lecturers themselves were discovering new things,” Anne\nsaid. “And we were part of the process.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n Teaching Then <\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n Listening about those times meant listening to Marion recite a roll call of names that would be familiar to any attentive observer as a cross-section of Malaysian intellectual lights. “USM carved its own trajectory,” Marion told me. “The vice-chancellor of the time, Hamzah Sendut, was bringing in all these lecturers. We had Lim Teek Ghee,” –\u00ad who, after the controversy surrounding the Centre for Public Policy Studies’s Bumiputera equity study in 2006, resigned from his post as the think-tanks head, but did not retract its findings; “Kassim Ahmad,” — who, in his study of the roles of Hang Tuah and Hang Jebat in the classics, would spark an re-evaluation of the latter’s importance in national literature; “Chandra Muzaffar,” — a political scientist who was the director of Universiti Malaya’s Centre for Civilisational Dialogue, and is now president of the International Movement for a Just World; “TK\u00a0 Sabapathy,” — who is, perhaps, still the region’s most important art historian.<\/p>\n\n\n\n “I hated Sabapathy,”\nMarion said. “He was so pandai, and he made us feel so stupid.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n The legacy of these teachers was the kind of learning experiences that would remain with students long after class was over. Marion recounted one such example: “We had a philosophy lecturer called Cornelius Simoons; we called him the Dutch Baby — because he was Dutch — and he had a droning voice.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n Marion’s fellows were about to\ndiscover just how disarming that voice could be. In their first lecture,\nCornelius began sketching out the subject and its importance; his listeners,\ndutiful undergrads all, began writing these things down. Soon however, some of\nthe more alert ones realised their instructor had begun a free association\nmonologue. “He was talking nonsense!” Marion said. “We had to\nnudge each other to get people to stop writing.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n That operation took a while, and\nCornelius kept on with his stream of consciousness until every last person had put\ntheir pens down. “Then he said: ‘And that is your first lesson,'”\nMarion said, wide-eyed. “It was the most powerful lesson on note-taking\nI’ve ever had.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n After graduating from USM, Marion\nwent abroad for a brief period; she brought home with her a desire to question the\nvery foundations of dance, her chosen vocation. Marion’s work in the 1980s —\nmostly deconstructions that played with form and blurred boundaries between the\nvarious kinds of stagecraft — did not sit well with Malaysian critics.<\/p>\n\n\n\n “But what I was doing wasn’t\nthat unusual,” Marion said. “The things I saw in New York, the movements\nin Japan. If people had a global perspective, they wouldn’t have had a problem\nwith what I was doing.” Audiences, in short, were scoffing at things they\nweren’t familiar with.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Teaching Now<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n Marion now wears the reputation she gained during those years — that of an uncategorisable “dance terrorist” — as a badge of pride; practically no discussion of modern Malaysian dance practice proceeds without mention of 1988’s “Urn Piece”, which has become iconic. Since Dato’ Krishen Jit’s passing in 2005, Datin Marion (they wed in the 1980s) has been Five Arts Centre’s guiding member. That she herself hasn’t undertaken a large-scale production in eight years is due to a combination of personal commitments and the fact that the arts collective is burgeoning –\u00ad production is, after all, consuming work.<\/p>\n\n\n\n That said, being an artist rarely\npays the bills. “My bread and butter is teaching,” Marion told me.\nShe lectures at The One Academy and Sunway University College’s School of\nPerformance + Media; she teaches dance at the Akademi Seni Budaya dan Warisan\nKebangsaan in Joseph Gonzales’s faculty.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I was curious as to what Marion\nthought about the state of arts education at the tertiary level in Malaysia\ntoday, and asked her about it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n “There are so many programmes\nnow,” Marion answered. “I teach in three different Performing Arts\nprogrammes. Whether there is an industry to support all these new graduates, I\ndon’t know.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n More worrying than those\npracticalities, however, is the erosion of what an education, in general, is\nsupposed to be like for its students. It gets tiresome to repeat tropes about\ngraduates today, who place less importance in getting a comprehensive\nexperience, then they do in earning credentials. But it is largely true that\nyoung Malaysians have forsaken the ideals of academics — not necessarily\nbecause they’ve become more cynical, but because they’ve lost to vocabulary in\nwhich it idealism is possible.<\/p>\n\n\n\n “I think that all the\nsurrounding forces — family, social structures, politics — that should\nsupport teachers,” Marion said, “Are completely not supporting\nthem.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n She remembered real rigour and\nresearch. “Writing assignments for our lecturers, we had to sit in the Red\nSpot section of the library — which was so annoying because you can’t check\nthe books out — and read up.” A teacher herself, now, Marion told me that\nshe was disturbed with seeing paragraphs cut-and-pasted off Wikipedia. “I\ntell my students: ‘Eh, I’m looking at the same things you are looking.’ But I\ncan’t blame the student. It’s the whole education system. We’ve just\nmarshmallow-ed out.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n The Revolution<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n It is not unusual for those with\ncollege educations to speak romantically about their past years of wilder\nabandon and better academe; people, without exception, are inclined to yearn\nfor Golden Ages. Still, it is fairly indisputable that Anne and Marion went to\nuniversity at a time when institutions of higher learning in this country were\nat their apex of vibrancy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n “The early 1970s was life-changing for people who engaged in the post-1969 discourse,” Marion said. “There was Hishamuddin Rais, Bong Selamat. It was the time of Baling, of hunger strikes. I remember slipping flyers under doors at 2 AM., of carrying wet towels in plastic bags, just in case the FRU fired at us with tear gas. When people got arrested, the registrar of USM himself<\/em> went to bail them out.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n In 1971, Malaysia passed the Akta\nUniversiti dan Kolej Universiti, a draconian law curtailing student freedoms;\nintellectuals and legal scholars would eventually cite it as one of the primary\nreasons why Malaysian academic culture became so impotent in later decades —\nand still is, today. Back then, however, things continued on, regardless.\n“I didn’t feel it much,” Anne said. “Within campus, the\nenvironment didn’t change. Student elections were much freer. Thinking was\nstill going on.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n Those in the performing arts\ndepartment tried to replicate the revolution. “We did something called\n‘Happenings’. It was a very 1960s thing. We had been reading performance\ntheory, reading people like Franz Fanon, and we were trying it out\ncampus.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n ” ‘Happenings’ were events that\nhappened spontaneously,” Marion explained. “We would interrupt\nlectures to deliver performances to protest world politics: the Vietnam War,\nthings like that. We would do guerrilla theatre. We would roll down a hill.\nThen, before you could even figure it out, it’d be over.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n “It was about new spaces,”\nAnne said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n “Of course,” Marion said, “A lot of them just thought we were presumptuous, pretentious Performing Arts students.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n These opportunities — to do what they wanted and, arguably, be ignored — made campus culture so powerful for all its students: everyone was engaged with each other, but also with a diversity of things. “There were all these pockets of alternatives. There were the nerds from the sciences, of course. There were the highly political ones, the revolutionaries — Fatimah Busu wore fatigues all the time. There were us. And this was the thing: we,” — meaning, those who were doing degrees in the arts — “were not important.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n Further, the boundaries between\nthese subcultures were porous: Janet and Thuan Chye cut their teeth in work\noutside the ambit of their chosen courses; “Happenings” didn’t only\ncount performing arts undergrads in its participants’ list. “We were all\npart of a whole kind of thinking,” Anne said. “We all breathed an\nair.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n Of course, there were also more\ncorporeal bodies than gas, and less high-minded escapades. Anne noted for me a\nsingular fact, emblematic of the difference between then and now, one that\nwould spark incredulity in any Malaysian campus today: “Beer was allowed\non campus.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n “Bunga Manggar Bunga Raya”<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n My conversation with Marion and Anne\nhappened at the Five Arts Centre premises in Taman Tun Dr Ismail; rehearsals\nfor “Bunga Manggar Bunga Raya” were over a month deep. The project\nfound its inception a while back, in “Choreography for\nNon-Choreographers”, a performance that was part of the year-long Krishen\nJit Experimental Workshop Series 2006.<\/p>\n\n\n\n “People have asked me to do\nsomething for a long time,” Marion said, when I asked her about how she\ngot working again. “It was the choreography workshop that made me bite the\nbullet. I wanted to vomit blood already, then; so I told myself: ‘Well, I may\nas well do this, too.’ “<\/p>\n\n\n\n “Bunga Manggar Bunga\nRaya”, for Marion, is her reaction to the polarisation of Malaysian\nsociety in the past few decades. “One of the things we’re losing, as a\nnation, is the desire of real, honest diversity.” A big part of the\nproblem is the categorisation: a Malay person is Malay, a Liberal is a Liberal,\nif one is Middle Class, one is Middle Class. “We are moving away from\nvariety. You cannot straddle.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n Her project’s answer, therefore, is\na cast of 22: of both genders, all races (including Jacqueline Ann Surin’s\nconspicuous “D.L.L.”), a wide sample in age (Marion, at 53, is\neldest; Ezdianie Hayatie Omar, Ahmad Firdaus Che Yahaya and Janet Moo recently\ngraduated from ASWARA), and varying day jobs (including lighting designer Mac\nChan, and lecturer and playwright Leow Puay Tin).<\/p>\n\n\n\n It is a group of people that were\nset to deliver a show equally as miscellaneous: a dance drama anthology whose\nstories range from the sublime to the ridiculous. When I talked to her about\n“Bunga Manggar Bunga Raya”, Marion was not particularly worried about\nreactions — especially from critics. “If people say: ‘What the fuck is\nthis?’, they will. My question is: So what, about the form? Does the\nperformance itself affect you? If it does, it’s successful.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n “But, if it doesn’t,”\nMarion continued, “Then problem lah. Fail.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n I had the opportunity to sit in on\none of “Bunga Manggar Bunga Raya” ‘s early rehearsals, previously. As\nthe performers were warming up — they were in a circle, passing a plastic ball\namongst themselves, shouting the number of its rebounds as they tried to keep\nthe object aloft for as long as possible — they seemed, to me, to be a bunch\nof virile kids, having fun.<\/p>\n\n\n\n This also appeared, at the time, to\nbe a bad thing. As the session proceeded, the vignettes I saw were not so much\nridiculous as they were simplistic and overwrought. “Chilayu”, one of\n“Bunga Manggar Bunga Raya” ‘s more literal segments, had its players\napproach a large table (the vessel called Malaysia, of course), declare their\nstate\u00admandated Race, and position themselves on the furniture accordingly: the\nChinese sat with their legs dangling over the edge; the Malays stood, proud;\nand the Indians and the Others were underneath, in between the table’s legs.\nWhen one of them proclaimed that he was Chilayu, in defiance of convention,\neveryone was predictably taken aback.<\/p>\n\n\n\n That entire exchange lasted over an\nalmost uncontrolled 20 minutes, and had all the subtlety of a student protest.\nIt would take me several weeks to realise that that was the point.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The Spirit<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n “Bunga Manggar Bunga Raya”\nopened on September 6th<\/sup>, 2007; after performance, Janet Pillai would\nask which part the night I had enjoyed the most. “I liked ‘Chilayu’,”\nI said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n They had got it right this time. It\nstill seemed a slight bit amateur, and wore its message like a brandished\nsledgehammer — but it was jaw-breaking-ly funny, performed with great gusto,\nand very moving: when Hariati Azizan hangs on to James Lee’s right leg,\ninsisting she is “Malay” in the face of Fahmi Fadzil’s insistence of\n“Melayu”-ness, you laugh – you also start rooting for her, and when\nshe finally stands up and squeaks “Melayu”, defeated, you feel that\nsocial loss in your gut.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Most of all, it recalled my\nconversation with Marion and Anne: of them telling me about water fights, boys\nover in the girls’ dormitories, and of afternoons spent listening to professors\nargue with each other. “I find ‘Chilayu’ very interesting,” Janet\nsaid, “Because of the linguistics, and about what it says about what we\ncall ourselves: how we are ‘Indian’, as opposed to ‘India’.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n It is difficult to say if the loss\nof thought (that Marion described) and diversity (that “Bunga Manggar\nBunga Raya” is meant to combat) is irreversible. “We had an\nall-student audience last night, before opening,” Janet told me.\n“They were laughing at the weirdest bits.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n Even on the night I saw the show,\nsome people in the theatre cheered on the smug consolidation of Chineses-ness\nor Malay-ness they were seeing onstage; several laughed at Puay Tin’s Chinese\nOpera rendition of coffee-table wisdom and patriotism, not because it was witty\nand hilarious, but because her colloquial Hokkien formed stranged sounds.\n“Pa lang!” the row behind me kept repeating, “Pa lang!”<\/p>\n\n\n\n You win some, you lose some. I think\nthere is cause for optimism. There may not be very many stellar academics from\nthe current generation of Malaysians, but we have arguably grown in our roster\nof competences; the cast list of “Bunga Manggar Bunga Raya” is evidence\nenough: Jacqueline Ann Surin, whose work with the Sun is one of the reasons it\nis now considered the most incisive and well-argued of our national dailies;\nJames Lee, whose movies regularly ride film festival waves and return with\nawards; dancers Elaine Pedley and Gan Chih Pei, whose work enjoy the esteem of\nthe dance community; writers and directors Fahmi Fadzil and Mark Teh, whose\nlast stage project interrogated the life of Pak Hamzah and the elements of the\nWayang Kulit form.<\/p>\n\n\n\n “It connects back to what USM\nwas like,” Anne told me, ‘The ability to take everything and play with it,\nthe ability to ask. That confluence of thinkers.” Anne was talking about\n“Bunga Manggar Bunga Raya” ‘s genesis; that Thursday evening, I got\nto see the continuity, between one generation’s formation and the next, for\nmyself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n “We did a piece, Anne and I,\nfor the USM alumni reunion some years back,” Marion told me, somewhat\nwistfully. It was called “1974”; both performers wore fatigues and\nsilat tandaks. Margaret Martinez, another former course-mate, read a poem, and\nAnne and Marion tossed their headgear into the audience, confronting them,\nadmonishing them, asking: “Where is the revolution?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n “There never invited us back,\nof course,” Marion said. “But after we finished, someone came to me\nand said that what we did had reminded him of university.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n ~~~<\/p>\n\n\n\n Zedeck Siew writes for Kakiseni. “Bunga Manggar Bunga Raya”, Marion D’Cruz’s sumptuous Malaysian mess, played at The Actors Studio@ BSC from September 6th<\/sup> to 9th<\/sup>, 2007. <\/p>\n\n\n\n First Published: 07.09.2007 on Kakiseni <\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Things began in 1975: the world’s first home computers were made available to the public; American Congress had signed the Foreign Assistance Act, leaving the Republic of Vietnam to its fate; and Marion D’Cruz, who would become one of Malaysia’s most important dance practitioners, was walking the corridors of the Universiti Sains Malaysia, a sophomore […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":11,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"iawp_total_views":10,"footnotes":""},"categories":[34,3536],"tags":[1352,3768,3770,723,3771,3764,3766,234,725,1353,867,3772,247,1354,3760,1420,975,1356,575,1357,780,646,3763,2416,265,771,3762,2207,853,3769,700,920,3761,638,3759,957,3767,2099,2098],"language":[7523],"writer":[7625],"class_list":["post-27468","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-articles","category-dance","tag-ahmad-firdaus-che-yahaya","tag-akademi-seni-budaya-dan-warisan-kebangsaan","tag-akta-universiti-dan-kolej-universiti","tag-anne-james","tag-bong-selamat","tag-chandra-muzaffar","tag-cornelius-simoons","tag-dance","tag-elaine-pedley","tag-ezdianie-hayatie-omar","tag-fahmi-fadzil","tag-fatimah-busu","tag-five-arts-centre","tag-gan-chih-pei","tag-hamzah-bin-awang-mat","tag-hariati-azizan","tag-hishamuddin-rais","tag-jacqueline-ann-surin","tag-james-lee","tag-janet-moo-tein-ni","tag-janet-pillai","tag-joseph-gonzales","tag-kassim-ahmad","tag-kee-thuan-chye","tag-krishen-jit","tag-leow-puay-tin","tag-lim-teek-ghee","tag-literary-dramatic-association-of-universiti-malaya-lidra","tag-mac-chan","tag-margaret-martinez","tag-marion-dcruz","tag-mark-teh","tag-patricia-matusky","tag-performance-arts","tag-sasaran","tag-sunway-university-college","tag-the-one-academy","tag-universiti-sains-malaysia","tag-usm","language-english","writer-zedeck-siew"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/myartmemoryproject.com\/ms\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/27468","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/myartmemoryproject.com\/ms\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/myartmemoryproject.com\/ms\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/myartmemoryproject.com\/ms\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/11"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/myartmemoryproject.com\/ms\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=27468"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/myartmemoryproject.com\/ms\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/27468\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":38571,"href":"https:\/\/myartmemoryproject.com\/ms\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/27468\/revisions\/38571"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/myartmemoryproject.com\/ms\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=27468"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/myartmemoryproject.com\/ms\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=27468"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/myartmemoryproject.com\/ms\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=27468"},{"taxonomy":"language","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/myartmemoryproject.com\/ms\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/language?post=27468"},{"taxonomy":"writer","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/myartmemoryproject.com\/ms\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/writer?post=27468"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}