Kit Connor’s hair looks ever so slightly different each time. It’s not softly side-swept like in his Loewe campaign, nor freshly buzzed short in recent social photos. It’s in a neat length that frames his face well and characteristically bearing a distinct auburn. Which is likely the first thing you’ll notice. We’re catching him merely two weeks into rehearsals for Romeo + Juliet.
The English actor would be tackling the possibly 37th Broadway iteration of the star-crossed lovers’ age-old tale alongside Rachel Zegler. Except that its pop-imbued teaser, shot no different from a music video, previews a score by the trendiest Producer of late. Like Jack Antonoff’s inaugural composition for a live stage, this will mark Connor’s Broadway debut.
It’s his first time working across the pond too, but make no mistake. This is hardly the 20-year-old’s first rodeo. The adaptation of Ingmar Bergman’s Fanny and Alexander at the Old Vic was entered into his CV—at the age of 14. So young that the part had to be shared in fulfilment of British child labour laws. If that amazes you, wait till we get to how old he was when he embarked on this gig.
“It’s early days, and I’m finding the flow, enjoying myself a lot.” The Croydon-raised youth tells of his return to plays, speaking at a mindful and measured pace. He’s starting to get back into the swing of it, and he’s certainly approaching it differently now as an adult. “Every job is a learning curve in its own way. It’s really nice to be in the same room for a few weeks working at it and doing what you love.”
Doing what you love. It’s a phrase that sporadically punctuates his speech. It’s not difficult to see why when you trace his career. Signed up for Stagecoach Performing Arts School by his parents in an effort to pry a fairly introverted kid out of his shell, the attempt paid off in an almost accidental entry into the industry.
“A random opening for an Xbox commercial,” he briefly recounts the what’s-the-harm mindset, “I got it, did it, had a great day and thought, ‘Yeah, I’d do this again’. And it all very naturally progressed from there.”
Natural progression like his first feature (aged nine) and first red-carpet interview (aged 10). Shooting advertisements in South Africa and playing a young Elton John in the biopic. All before taking his GCSE examinations. Quite the makings of a child actor, minus the wayward behaviour, thankfully.
“It’s a brilliant but strange way to grow up. You spend months at a time out of school trying your best to keep up with the tutors, and come back still a little bit behind everyone,” he admits, quick to furnish with how lucky he felt to have been able to gain experiences working opposite incredible actors throughout his childhood.
It’s the reason when posed with the standard question for celebrities, Connor has still yet to find an alternative occupation that would make a good answer. The factors are not particularly stellar in school (with that schedule, can anyone blame him?); plus a keen interest in the arts.
“I would have always gravitated towards the film industry or creative arts in some way.” he muses, before almost mumbling, “I still hope at some point to be a director... when the time is right.”
There was a formative time when a role he was excited to have landed eventually failed to come to fruition due to an executive decision by the studio. Since then, the young thespian does not take things for granted. This rejection-resilient fortitude was further blustered by the pandemic; where the then-student recognised the possibility of never working in this trade again.
Fortunately, that was the season he was chosen for his breakout Netflix role. Funnily enough though, if forced to pick a preferred medium among the three, Connor’s controversial opinion ranks TV as the last. Only because it stems from the love he has for a process and timeline that allows more care dedicated to a project.
One upcoming billing to anticipate is Alex Garland’s Warfare, which also stars Joseph Quinn, Will Poulter, Cosmo Jarvis, Charles Melton and Noah Centineo. Despite wrapping months ago, the two-month job felt like just yesterday to him.
“I really loved Civil War, which came out after I knew I was doing Warfare, so I was really excited to see Alex’s most recent work,” he explains, having enjoyed Ex Machina and Annihilation. “I thought everyone was brilliant in it. It gave a taste of what Warfare could be like.”
The extent of similarity lies in writer and co-director Ray Mendoza as military advisor across both films; and why action sequences come across as authentic as they are terrifying. “It opens your eyes to the horrors of war, and it’s not going to be an easy watch. Incredibly intense, probably uncomfortable. Yeah... it’ll be an experience.”
On the lighter side, there’s The Wild Robot. Connor voices young gosling Brightbill in the animated adaptation of Peter Brown’s illustrated literary series, across Lupita Nyong’o, Pedro Pascal and Bill Nighy (special shoutout to Matt Berry for lending his iconic inflexions).
While he was not necessarily a runt of the litter like the little hatchling, Connor relates growing up somewhat shorter and skinnier than everyone else. Together with what he calls “a massive baby face” that placed him looking years younger than his peers, you instinctively match that with his self-description of an adolescent who was generally rather quiet among strangers.
Before picturing a sensitive child, however, anyone who is or knows an introvert is aware of how loud they can be when they’re comfortable with you. And if anything, he’s the furthest from a crier. “A lot of my friends are,” he says, “So next to them, I look like this sort of heartless man. I do get very moved by things but I rarely cry.”
The last thing he recalls that gave him utter goosebumps was The Motive and The Cue, a meta-production on the production of Shakespeare’s Hamlet during the ’60s. In that realm, the theatre geek also has high regard for other Hamlet partaker Andrew Scott.
“Anything he touches is bound to be a success,” he expresses, citing Present Laughter and Vanya. “There’s such an incredible range in his performance. I wouldn’t say Vanya is designed to be a one-man show and was quite sceptical when it comes to those, so my jaw was on the floor with how he did it. One of the single best feats of acting I’ve seen in a long time.”
Connor occupies a comfortable space where he has the luxury of picking what he truly wants to be a part of. He acknowledges the privilege of turning down offers avails only upon reaching a certain point in one’s career. Not that he’s getting them from all directions, he adds with a reconciling smile. It’s just a little more leeway that’s provided with the support from his parents. “They never made me do things I didn’t want, towards the direction of money or anything. It’s always been how best to help me, which is being there for me and looking out for me. It’s clear that if I didn’t want to be doing it, I wouldn’t. And that’s still the truth today.”
Though the wild card sibling to an older brother and sister outside the entertainment business turns 20 this year, he reveals he hasn’t felt like a teenager for a while now. “I feel like I’ve been 60 since I was nine,” he shares of his regular demeanour, “Many of my Heartstopper friends call me a bit of a dad, and I think I am at times. There are moments the teenage side really comes out, but in most cases maybe as a result of starting work so young, I have felt like a slight old man.”
The statement is consistent with the very diplomatic way he articulates himself; sans slang or any tell-tale giveaway of his actual age. A concise conversation leaves the impression that this is simply a facet of himself that he’s open to impart, and the bigger canvas remains reserved for a passage earned with time. But time is something Connor can afford, and you suspect it would be magic the day he fully steps into his own skin.
Heartstopper Season 3 launches on Netflix on 3 October and The Wild Robot is in cinemas on 26 September in Singapore.
Photography: Kolby Knight
Fashion Direction: Asri Jasman
Art Direction: Joan Tai
Styling: Charlie Ward at SEE MANAGEMENT
Set Stylist: Elaine Winter at SEE MANAGEMENT
Grooming: Melissa DeZerate at A FRAME AGENCY using CAUDALIE
Producer: Nick Turk
Assistant Producer: Isabella Schliemann
Photography Assistant: Beka Maglakelidze
Grooming Assistant: Ryann Carter
It’s a familiar feeling walking into the Quah household for the first time. Tea-stained photographs of children plaster the stairwell leading to the second floor, chronicling a family’s history. A faded couch, likely a long-time resident of the living room, bears the burden of years of lounging. The sound of barking dogs in the back garden adds to the comfortable clutter of everyday life, speaking of days spent together—the beautiful mess. You would’ve never guessed this home houses three Olympians. That is, until you catch a glimpse of the three professional portraits of athletes proudly hanging in the living room.
For many Singaporeans, the Quah siblings are household names. Chances are, you've found yourself glued to the television, heart racing, as you cheered them on in international competitions. They are some of Singapore’s most accomplished swimmers, representing us on the world's biggest sporting stages. For the upcoming Olympics in Paris, however, despite their best efforts to compete together for the first time in an Olympic setting, only one of them has qualified. Eldest sister Quah Ting Wen and Quah Zheng Wen have been fixtures in the swimming world for more than a decade, yet it is their little sister, Jing Wen, who secured a spot.
At 27, Quah Zheng Wen finds himself in an unfamiliar position—watching from the sidelines as his sister prepares for her Olympic debut in Paris. “I feel sad; sad that I'm not there to experience her debut at the Olympic Games,” he confides, seated diagonally from me on his living room couch after a long day of filming. “I very much wished that this would have been the games that all three of us could go to together,” adds Quah, his eyes reflecting a mix of pride and wistfulness. “But I'm more proud than disappointed that I'm not there.”
He recalls his sister's tireless efforts to qualify for the previous Olympics in 2021, repeatedly attempting the gruelling 200-metre butterfly event before failing to qualify. “I felt incredibly sad that I was going without her,” he adds, “I remember thinking if there were an option to give up my spot for her, I would have.”
It's clear that family is of paramount importance to Quah. His greatest fear, he reveals, is the thought of losing his parents. This fear, he explains, has been a driving force in his life since he was young. "It's a big reason why I kind of want to start moving forward in my professional career, start being able to contribute more to the family so that my parents can kind of relax, retire, you know, do the things that they like, travel and enjoy life."
As an athlete closer to the end than the beginning, athletes like Quah face a unique challenge: the accelerated passage of time in their careers (and everything bad that comes with it). While the average person may not confront the physical effects of ageing until their hair greys and knees sore, athletes often hear whispers about their age by 30. Can Zheng Wen keep up with the younger swimmers? Zheng Wen should consider retirement to give the younger swimmers a chance. Quah is already past his peak. It hardly seems fair to label a 27-year-old as ageing, yet I’d wager this reality forces athletes to mature much faster than the average person.
"It's quite crazy," Zheng Wen begins, "your life as an athlete is compressed." He recounts his journey from being one of the youngest on the national team at 15 to suddenly finding himself the oldest male swimmer on Team Singapore. “I now stand almost completely alone at the age of 27,” he confides. “Even right now as we are speaking about it, that idea still seems foreign to me."
At only 27, it seems odd that Quah is already the oldest male swimmer on Team Singapore, especially given that this age often marks the peak for athletes in sports like basketball and football. When asked why this was, Quah attributes it to Singapore's intense academic culture and the corporate rat race where everyone’s racing to be ahead of each other. “To a lot of people, when you’re between 20 to 26, it's wasted time if you spend it doing sports because there's no money for one, there's no real progression, there's no kind of pathway out of sports into the working world.”
Perhaps this is why Quah finds himself in a situation where his younger counterparts are retiring as early as 18. Or maybe it’s due to the fact that no one younger has been able to outswim the UC Berkeley alum yet. “That’s one of the reasons why I'm still in it. I mean, if I can't be the best here, then I can't be the best anywhere, right?”
In the world of competition, it’s tempting to look at someone younger and feel a need to be better than them. The natural inclination is to believe that your greater experience and longer track record of winning should give you an edge. Plus, it's all too easy to imagine what these newcomers were doing when you were their age and write them off.
Quah, however, takes a different approach. Reflecting on his time training at UC Berkeley alongside Olympians and world record holders, he remembers the first time a younger swimmer outpaced him. “Even though they're younger, I never saw them as less of a threat, you know, I respected all of them equally.”
A mindset like this was vital during Quah’s journey through National Service. A series of deferments meant he was conscripted several years later than his peers, placing him in a platoon filled with individuals six years his junior. "It felt odd at first," Quah admitted. "I mean, you know, a lot of my sergeants and superiors were guys younger than me." However, Quah's experiences in competitive swimming where he'd learned to respect all opponents regardless of age prepared him well for this unusual dynamic. With a chuckle, he adds, "Men, you know, we don't really grow up too much, right? Men will always be boys."
Life imitates art, but is it a stretch to suggest that life also imitates sports? At 16, he set a national record in the 400m individual medley and made the Olympic squad, fighting to prove himself in London. By 20, he became the first Singaporean male to reach an Olympic swimming semi-final, placing 15th and 10th in butterfly events. Later, he’d forever etch his name into the front page of the history books, becoming Singapore’s most-medalled male swimmer.
Yet in 2024, despite the achievements, Quah finds himself, once again, needing to prove his worth after missing Olympic qualification. It’s a cycle akin to the human experience: bare and vulnerable we arrive, bare and vulnerable we depart; just as athletes begin and end their careers battling to prove themselves. In the case of Quah, silencing pundits isn’t his only hurdle, he’s also racing against the decay of time—which begs the question: with Father Time as his challenger, how fiercely will he swim this final lap?
“The older, more experienced and better at the sport you are, the harder it is to find those small things to change that get you that little fraction of more time,” he says. “But undeniably, I have to try, I have to try extremely hard."
His voice carries a mix of determination and wonder, "But that's the beauty, right? We never know the limit, we always believe that there's that 1 per cent we can change, that can make a difference to bring out a performance better than any you've ever put out before." True to his words, in his most recent swim before this interview, he achieved his fastest time of the entire year. “I'm proud to say that I never gave up.”
Given Quah's mindset, one might naturally expect him to pursue a spot in the 2028 Olympics. Yet, reality intrudes. “I think it's hard to say, in four years I’ll be 32,” he says with a tinge of wistfulness. “I do want to be able to contribute to my family financially and have my parents be in a comfortable spot but I think right now unfortunately in Singapore we're just not in a spot where we're able to push athletes for that long of a period.”
In that case, what’s next? Having studied neurobiology at UC Berkeley, Quah had aspirations of eventually becoming a doctor like his father but his perspective has shifted. “It was a long-time dream of mine,” he admitted. “But I just don't think med school is in the cards really for me anymore.” Quah appears content with this shift, adding, "I've learned to be okay with that."
To adapt and find peace in letting go speaks to a deeper maturity, one that Quah attributes in part to the life lessons swimming has taught him. “I used to think that winning was everything,” he admits. “Results were everything and anything less than that would be a loss.” This mentality drove him towards excellence for years.
Yet, as he’s matured as an athlete, he’s come to realise that the countless hours spent training with teammates chasing the same goals, the camaraderie—the journey, is equally as important. But perhaps the most valuable lesson swimming has taught him is gratitude. "Cherish every moment," he says, "because once it's gone, it's gone forever."
At present, Quah hopes to use his platform to encourage the younger generations of swimmers and to progress sports in Singapore. “In the past, I would’ve been like why would I want to do this (8-hour shoot)? I’d rather train, I’d rather be eating, I’d rather be sleeping. I could hang out with my friends,” he reflects, then adds with a self-deprecating chuckle, "Okay, not so much that one lah because I didn’t have a social life.” He goes on, “but I think this is an opportunity for me to share my experiences and show that it's possible to swim longer than five years.”
Singapore is quick to applaud its sporting heroes but tends to forget them when they stumble. In a sport like swimming, where losses far outnumber wins, is it fair to expect athletes to excel consistently without adequate support during challenging times? One can’t help but wonder: Is there a world where Singaporean athletes are rewarded when they win and supported when they lose?
Perhaps in that world, this interview might have taken a different direction—I would have asked him about the Olympics in 2028. Maybe Quah would have felt more confident about his Olympic future; spoken with optimism and determination about his training plans and goals for the next four years.
Regardless, there is no use dwelling in hypotheticals—the focus must remain on the present and the tangible future. Whether or not Quah competes in the 2028 Olympics, his influence on Singapore's sporting landscape is undeniable and will continue to be felt long after he hangs up his goggles.
Director of Photography: Jaya Khidir
Director and Editor: Nowo Kasturi
Creative Direction: Asri Jasman
Grooming: Christian M
Gaffer: Fang Yuan
Grips: Amos Elijah Lee, Ern Quek, Guo Wei, and Timothy Lim
Production Assistants: Ng Kai Ming and Syed Abdullah
Watch: Samsung Galaxy Watch Ultra
Locations: Hideout and COMO Orchard
Animation: Joan Tai
All right, it’s been done to death to deem a celebrity—who also happens to quite literally be tall, dark and handsome—as down to earth. The rationale is perfectly understandable. You look a certain way, make a living in a world that mostly operates like a separate stratosphere... and of course maintaining an objective grip on reality automatically becomes a feat.
That’s not to discount Taylor Zakhar Perez. It’s not so much the absence of airs about the actor but the sense that, vocation aside, he could make a sincerely valuable friend in your life. I’m coining it Cool Dude Energy: positive yet pragmatic.
The 32-year-old comes across as a tad younger than his actual age with a somewhat unjaded disposition for someone who has been in this trade since his teens. Yet between affable rambles, a time-honed maturity slips through every so often. Living nearly half his life in Los Angeles meant some trial and error finding the balance of confidence sans ego, or preserving self-belief without giving in to an industry-induced god complex.
“I’ve always taken the slow and steady, consistent approach. That’s just how I grew up, where everything’s regime and you build a solid foundation before you build the house,” he shares casually, “I think a lot of people like building the house first because it’s pretty and something to show for, but when it comes time to get that inspection, when you really have to dig deep, there is no foundation.”
Born in Chicago and raised in Indiana as the sixth of eight children, the Midwesterner identified more as an older child than a younger or middle growing up. The household dynamic had Zakhar Perez effectively functioning as the eldest of the youngest segment. Given his career trajectory, catching up with his older siblings now occasionally lends to him doling out business advice too.
He speaks fondly of his late sister Kristy, who the family lost to colorectal cancer. Though 12 years apart, their bond and her influence on his life are evident through his heartening dedication on social media. Of Kristy’s many wise counsels that he adopts is to just keep going; as restarting anything after stopping is usually much harder.
This guidance was further substantiated by his stint as a varsity swimmer. Funnily enough, throughout the decade-long tenure, he was never truly fond of swimming (he still surfs though). “It was the discipline of it and the camaraderie that I loved,” he admits, “I was team captain for two years in a row and I liked being a leader, and that sense of community that I might not have had if I stopped.”
Training to never lose the groundwork created for himself eventually shaped his acting mindset as well. One he abided by even later in life waiting tables for actors on the other side of the coin; seemingly powered by sheer conviction. Whose certainty that they were going to succeed, despite having never seen them on any screen, was highly persuasive.
“It was interesting that I thought they were going to make it because they thought they were going to make it,” he recalls, “but I kept to the educational [route] because I knew from my experience as an athlete that that’s what you’re going to have to do. It’s practice after practice. Competitions. Win, loss, year after year; and that’s how I equate it. Acting is a sport.”
It only took finishing university to pursue his dreams. When early admissions to some of the best bio-chem programmes (the initial ambition was to be a dermatologist) came with the caveat of a swim scholarship, Zakhar Perez turned it down to attend UCLA as part of the appease-the-parents deal.
The evolution from theatre to commercials, however, was a steep learning curve. “It was cool to see yourself on TV in the beginning, but then you discover that there’s a technique behind it, which you have to invest in for it to convey on screen,” says the man who was not spared the trope of a small towner meets big city.
“Having acting coaches tell you like it is, but you don’t want to believe it because ‘Oh man I was the best in my high school so I’m going to be the best here’ and realising oh my gosh I’ve so much work to do.”
Cutting his teeth as an assistant for five years under his uncle, an art department director and set designer for commercials and advertising (“I was basically a glorified mover the first week”). The stint was another invaluable masterclass. It entailed being one of the first people involved in the process by sourcing props and prepping sets, to being among the last ones to leave after breaking down the sets. A far cry from simply showing up to shoot your scenes.
So it was impressive then, to witness actors who exemplified inspiring conduct. “They didn’t bring any of their insecurities on set, handled everybody from photographer to personal assistants so professionally, never made anyone feel less than but made everyone feel like they were part of this magic that was happening,” he enthuses, naming Hugh Jackman, Jennifer Anniston and Cate Blanchett for laudable behaviour he now emulates.
“I was like, Wow! You are an incredible storyteller and you also have an incredible presence about you that makes people want to work with you. As opposed to say, 70 per cent who were not the ideal talent. It makes you have compassion for your below-the-line creatives. So I’m very grateful because you can’t pay to have that experience but I was paid to have that experience.”
Other names in the game whose performances stay in his head rent-free include Michael Fassbender, Tom Hiddleston thanks to a recent watching of The Night Manager, and James McAvoy; whom the actor had the pleasure of acquainting.
“He was so sweet. Sometimes you think people are unapproachable and you can’t ask them what you want to, but he was so open and wonderful about it,” eyes gleaming as he recounts, “The Brits have a way of working in the details and these guys are such dynamic actors. The specificity, the continuity... it’s impeccable and just lights my fuse.”
As far as he’s concerned, there was no Plan B going into this gig all those years ago. “I remember one Christmas where my [other] uncle kept asking me what my backup plan was, and I said I don’t have one. And he went ‘Ah! Nephew! You should really have one, man. I’ve been out there; I know what it’s like. It’s hard to make it.’”
Constantly advocating his aspirations was not easy but like a movie cliché, Zakhar Perez insisted he was all in and nothing was gonna stop him. The memory is special because said uncle subsequently apologised, acknowledging that he was projecting his own worries and failures out of fear that his nephew might meet a similar outcome.
“And that was before any sort of success came my way,” he reveals, “So I thanked him for being so transparent with me, and as soon as I got rid of that ‘I’ll show you’ mentality, the world opened up for me.”
Currently recognised off Netflix and Amazon Prime, Zakhar Perez counts himself lucky for his divvy of co-stars. The natural rapport he carries with Joey King and Nicholas Galitzine, as well as his admiration of Uma Thurman, is clearly visible in interviews.
He appreciates that on top of their obvious flair, they’re equally proficient at embracing a childlike element of play at the moment. It ties to his bias towards rehearsals. It’s the portion many actors dislike due to repetition getting stale, but his theatre background thoroughly relishes it.
“That’s the time you get to improv, and you get to explore where these characters are coming from,” he explains. “It’s freedom because you’re not going to get told you’re wrong. The worst you’d be told is that it’s inaccurate given the circumstances. It just strengthens everything before you get on set to take that audience on a journey.”
While he would certainly not mind returning to theatre should the stars align for it, Zakhar Perez thrives with the medium he’s in. He’s obsessed with camera work even though he feels unqualified. “I only know my way around maybe a point and shoot, but I love being behind the DP and seeing their vision lining up a shot, because nine times out of 10, it’s totally different from how I’m reading it.”
Together with writing, he regards these as skillsets he’ll probably never fully acquire, but leaning into them better informs his dexterity. For now, he’s gleaning plenty from Oscar-winning producers on a handful of projects. Besides lighting and treatment, one key lesson is getting over watching his own performances. Letting go of professional perfectionism to objectively view it according to plot development.
Above the technicalities, he finds it a blessing that these project partners are adept at hiding the medicine in the sugar. This is an aspect Zakhar Perez deeply resonates with, like the genres he enjoyed watching in adolescence. Sure, he delighted in buddy-style comedies, SNL (Fred Armisen’s Regine absolutely kills him) and superhero action, but the original X-Men films spoke to him personally.
“It really had a message on its mind and makes you rethink [your perspective],” he muses, circling back to the topic, “These projects have completely shifted my entire mindset on the industry. I think people tend to forget that acting is just a sub-category of the entertainment industry at large. It’s a business.”
There are things he wished he knew when he started out. Expertise that was never actually taught in school (personal finance!) which could genuinely hold back an individual without it. It is why helping the future is something that has always interested him.
“There are two paths, right? You can be an egotistical maniac, or you can reach back and lift somebody up, and that person reaches back and lifts the next person up,” he tells of his philosophy which he practises towards greener actors. Whether new cast or juniors met in passing, there’s no hesitation to take their calls.
“It’s not like I’m trying to be everybody’s mentor but nobody ever did that for me. I know that there are so many questions you’re afraid to ask on your first day and honestly nobody can put you at ease on how it’s going to go than a fellow actor.”
This harkens back to a programme he did many moons ago. The brief was to add a socially impactful cause to your life that you thought you had no room for, as a means to hold yourself accountable since it’s easy to be engulfed in the daily grind. Zakhar Perez decided to boost creativity in youth, in light of the US defunding of many art-related programmes. It seemed a fitting choice.
“Art was my favourite class as a kid. Being able to create solo but also collaborate with friends and have a teacher guiding me in the right direction... that was such a formative time in my life. And I saw what was lost through the years of getting older and having papers to write and deadlines to hit.”
“So I had a tent at this farmers market by the LA Zoo, brought tons of arts and crafts and every week kids would come,” he tells with a huge grin. “A friend and I would ask what they’d want to make that day and we’d be cutting up snowflakes, painting, using markers.”
“Their parents would be shopping, then come back to pick them up... It almost felt like a daycare sometimes,” he laughs, “But you know what? If the kids are activated and excited about this, then that’s all that matters. You make time for things in your life that you find meaningful.”
Who knows? Maybe, just maybe, out of these little seedlings sprouted a few for whom these very sessions lay creative soil; forming a fresh base for an upcoming flourish that will one day come around to do the same.
Photography: Lenne Chai
Fashion Direction: Asri Jasman
Art Direction: Joan Tai
Styling: Marc Eram
Producer: Guoran Yu at APEX COMMUNICATIONS
Executive Producer/Casting: Even Yu at APEX COMMUNICATIONS
Production Design: Kelly Framel
Grooming: Rachel Burney
Digitech: Dante Velasquez Jr.
Photography Assistants: Tatiana Tate and Carly Hough
Styling Assistant: Mikey Vargas
Production Assistant: Sky Xiang
No one could ever recreate what Gay Talese did for Frank Sinatra in 1966. They are and were respectively two great powerhouses in their own calibre, and nothing will come close to the written legacy presenting a fresh angle of not only the figure himself, but the culture he was embedded in.
Anyway, the premise here isn’t nearly the same. Lucien Laviscount isn’t unwilling to be interviewed, he merely seems really pressed for time. He doesn’t have a cold either. He just has a broken rib, though he didn’t quite specify how. It has been a crazy couple of days.
Friends, family, and associates were not involved in crafting this piece either. The only third-party accounts available are sifted from prior interviews with him. One particularly memorable (shoutout Fashion Magazine) for effusing such enthralment by his looks and charms that it’s borderline comedic.
The story often begins as a child model for David Beckham’s clothing line at Marks and Spencer, where the former athlete casually comments that the boy should try his hand at acting. It’s that demeanour that got Laviscount scouted for the campaign in the first place.
Laviscount rose to prominence in his teens through a couple of British dramas, strangely all taking namesake from locations—Waterloo Road, Grange Hill, Coronation Street. For international audiences, he plays Earl Grey (kudos to the writers) in Scream Queens and more notably, Alfie in Emily in Paris.
There’s his upcoming rom-com This Time Next Year and we would go on but this isn’t an IMDB page. Though it will be a pity to leave out that music video he did. Not appearances as a man-turned-werewolf in a Calvin Harris release, or a centaur-turned-man in Shakira’s recent hit; which if combined would probably make the rarest bingo card. No, it’d be fronting his own music in the most random 2012 club banger (for those interested, it’s “Dance with You” featuring Mann).
He has since come far. Now, the rumour mill churns of his Bond candidacy. The 32-year-old English actor takes this call from London, despite coming off a shoot in LA and his posts showing him last in Miami. After the call, that very evening, he’ll jet off to Cannes for the film festival.
He does wish, fully acknowledging it’s not something he should say, that people would work on the weekends. Perhaps then, Mondays wouldn’t be so swamped. He is possibly the poster child for “If you love what you do, you never work a day in your life”. It’s not a mantra he recites, but it does surface as a running theme in previous coverages.
He actually just flew in from Antigua, where his professional bodybuilder father is from, and where he has been based since the pandemic days. So really, it’s about managing four days of his life at a time. Anything after will be too much to cope with, but of course, he wouldn’t have it any other way. Once again reinforces the grateful-to-be-here vibe.
Laviscount is insistent that he takes nothing for granted. He’s really happy for everything that has happened in his life and grows with it. Besides relaying how he’s learning and getting a better perspective of what the world for him looks like and who he is now, he encloses another almost boilerplate statement about how you won’t be able to live where you want to if you live in the past.
Surprisingly, motivational one-liners and all, the actor doesn’t quite deem himself an optimist. Even though he strikes as the type to believe in the best of everyone, and resonates with uplifting shows like Acapulco; a tale of overcoming odds and achieving dreams. Even though in a similar vein, when most consider audition processes daunting, he finds excitement in bringing what he has to the table and putting his unique spin on a part that was never written for him.
Underdog trope aside, the notion of optimism was never an option to Laviscount. In his books, it would only mean the reality of the situation is not recognised. His feet are very much planted on the ground. Great things do happen... with hard work and conviction. In other words—in his words—you can’t be a real optimist unless you are a realist at heart.
If anything, he would brand himself as a realist, but ultimately he rejects being labelled. Like many thespians, he hates being pigeonholed. Which is why the actor wouldn’t want to be solely defined by his occupation. His penchant for creating—whether writing, acting, having a fashion brand, fostering an incredible space for people to learn, whatever form that takes—is something that will always be part of him.
He attributes his unquenchable thirst for exploration to the energy he has. Busy savouring a moment where he is confident in his abilities but on the other side of that same coin, advocating the pursuit of ambitions outside of one’s career.
At the minute, it’s interior design and architecture. It fills his Explore feed on Instagram. The interest probably stems from the aspect of building something visual yet tangible that can live beyond him. He then draws opposing observations between the art world and the industry he inhabits. How in the former, nothing is ever truly finished and there’s freedom to curate individual moulds. Whereas the latter may be equally subjective to audiences, but its course and result are commonly dictated by the opinion of one.
It would be like storytelling; where the storyteller gets to decide how the story is told. Where the reader’s perception is very much shaped by the hands of the writer. Would the license wielded by the author to weave an entirely verbatim-free narrative paint a balanced picture of fact and poetry?
In a delicious twist of irony, storytelling is one key concept Laviscount’s soul is drawn to. For a man who abstains from labels, it’s the sole identity that stays on his social media bio. In separate capitalised words, no less: Story Teller.
According to him, the tales don’t exist unless they are told. The massive appreciation he has for stories extends to people who are just as passionate about telling them. Capturing intrinsic moments of people’s lives and delving deep into their being are nothing short of magic and beauty.
In his yarn, Laviscount is on a continuous journey to discover what the best version of him will be. Navigating life and its many expectations, seeing through the good and the bad, acquiring a variety of experiences and influences with sheer wonder and wide-eyed amazement.
These could be politically correct answers. Or they could be genuine worldviews. Spoken sentences might be rephrased with a keen awareness that responses will be retold. Or they might purely be a reflex to remain neutral. As Laviscount maintains a consistent core, void of career cynicism and characteristically driven, the approach to be guided by inspiration and gratitude is how he aims to take on and run with whatever comes his way.
Or at least, that is how this story goes.
Photography: Philip Sinden
Fashion Direction: Asri Jasman
Art Direction: Joan Tai
Styling: Tanja Martin
Hair: Fluffy the Original Barber
Makeup: Charlotte Hayley Mcritchie Trujillo
Producer: Guoran Yu at APEX COMMUNICATIONS
Executive Producer: Even Yu at APEX COMMUNICATIONS
On-Set Producer (UK): Kate Zhu
Production Assistant: Kingvarit Vongchanphen
Photography Assistant: Jon Conway
Styling Assistant: Ania Egan
Retouching: Yang Liu
It is always interesting acquainting with someone for the first time, celebrity status notwithstanding. Largely because you never know which version of them you're meeting. No one maintains an utterly identical self while meandering through the varied seasons of life.
I would like to believe it's a good moment in Justin H. Min's timeline to meet him. He's not quite a household name yet, but it's more than fair to say he's on the better side of fame. Most would predominantly know him as Ben Hargreeves aka The Horror or his alternate self, Sparrow Number Two from The Umbrella Academy. Hardcore fans may even recognise him from his stint with Wong Fu Productions.
At this juncture, we're discussing his latest release on Disney+, The Greatest Hits. The premise takes relatability quite so literally. Ever felt like listening to a particular song transported you back in time? It actually does for female protagonist Harriett, for whom the act has now become an obsessive plan to potentially undo her lover's ultimate death.
Min plays the new man Harriett encounters, whose existence inevitably forces her to make that fateful decision. A choice (no spoilers!) he still doesn't quite know if he would have made the same way, despite heavy contemplation.
"It's a movie about the exploration of grief, and I was grieving a friend that I lost when I received the script," he shares. "It's amazing that I can do art that resounds with me on a very personal level, often at a very specific time in my life the last few years."
Not one with dream genres in mind, the only litmus test Min has is the emotional connection to the material that comes his way; because why would you put your heart and soul into something you are not passionate about?
One character that naturally surfaces is Ben from Randall Park's Shortcomings. If actors enjoy playing roles vastly apart from themselves to have a distinct divide, the highly-flawed and insecure Ben was terrifying for Min.
"The joke when I talk about him is that's who I was before therapy," he chuckles lightly, "He did feel so close to me in many ways that it was very vulnerable. Other characters I could hide behind different qualities that make up the person, but this felt raw sharing a lot of my own brokenness."
Ben, who finds his source in Adrian Tomine's graphic novel of the same name, feels unnervingly like someone you might know in real life. Which begs the question: exactly which traits did Min see in himself most?
"He has a strong sense of what he likes and doesn't. His taste in movies is very elevated, and yet he is unable to produce the kind of art that he loves because he's paralysed by his own perfectionism," Min says, explaining a similar revelation in his early aspirational phase, "You have to be willing to put yourself out there, do the work required to build a portfolio and hopefully reach where your taste and your art aligns."
Experience also puts crappy shows in a new perspective. "We can all watch and say it's so bad but we don't know how many things were needed to work out perfectly for it to be done right."
Min agrees that actors often only have the script—a fraction of the final product—to gauge; the execution you can only hope for the best. "That's why when I see a movie now and dislike it, I have so much more compassion than I used to."
However, one special script did make him cry. Not a cinematic singular-tear-down-the-cheek, but unapologetic sobbing on the plane.
"First of all, I would disclaim that by saying some of that was due to altitude," he clears his throat semi-sheepishly and grins, adding that he's not one to cry much but later discovered that heightened sentimentalism during transit is universal. In his defence, this theory has been widely supported by several psychiatric articles and reported stats.
See, the thing about After Yang (which if anything, you should watch solely for that rad dance break at the beginning) is not your typical robot flick. We don't just mean because it's an A24 starring Colin Farrell.
"Majority of android films and TV is always about the robot wanting to become human, and the thing I was so moved by was that Yang was so content being a robot. So content with serving his family and found so much reverence and dignity in doing his duty."
"It's kind of that Asian immigrant mentality that I think really struck a chord. The idea that my parents have no other joy than to see their kids succeed, you know? That's why a lot of immigrant parents move to America, for their kids to have a better life."
Min trips on his words for a split-second and continues, "I thought about my parents and it broke my heart because I want more for them? My mom owned a [dry cleaning business] for 20 years, my dad worked at a supermarket and they were just perfectly happy doing that. Anything to keep our family afloat; for my brother and I to have a future."
It's beyond evident that family and his Asian roots are dear to the actor's heart. Presented the hypothetical chance to access anyone's memories the way Yang's was, there wasn't much hesitation.
"I love my parents and they've been so great, but as much as we try to meet each other where we're at, there's always gonna be a fundamental disconnection because of the difference in where we were born and raised," he muses.
"There's also seeing your parents as this sort of omnipotent superheroes who are always there to take care of you and don't really have ambitions and feelings of their own. I think navigating my mom's world through her eyes could give me that much more empathy for her as a human."
Besides that instance where we as children awaken to the fact that our parents knew us our whole lives, but we perhaps only know them for half of theirs, there were other aspects the movie confronted him to consider more critically.
"The ever-evolving question I'm constantly ruminating on is: If I ever have kids, what part of my Asian identity would I want to pass down? Would I go as far as Korean New Year traditions? I don't even know enough myself to feel like I can accurately teach them… so there's no easy answer."
Still, it doesn't matter whether his Asian identity is at the forefront of his acting. It's as much fun to deep dive into the dialogue as it is simply left as a subtle nod. Min is content to work with the people he admires, participate in discourses about said work and is at peace with current circumstances.
Witnessing peers that he entered the industry with leave; the opportunity to sustain a decent living post-pandemic post-strikes; doing what he loves without countless side jobs as he used to, is in itself, career success.
It's surely been a roller coaster ride since cutting his teeth on The Umbrella Academy, which sees its culmination this August. To summarise, that's going from recurring character to series regular; from bidding the cast farewell to screaming in his Toronto apartment when he read the secret new script that brought him back.
"And before Netflix, no one was dealt fame in such rapid ascension. Even with the biggest stars, you were watched all around the globe in a gradual rollout. Whereas now you're instantly in 190 countries with millions watching. I don't think enough people talk about how crazy that is."
These days, catching a break between press tours and role-prep, Min has retreated to his happy place—alone in nature.
"I've been slowly ticking national parks off my list," he recounts the most recent being Arches National Park, but Redwoods is one he finds himself returning to. "There's something about the grandeur of those trees that just makes me feel so small in the best way possible; and acknowledge that these ‘huge problems' in my head really aren't that big of a deal."
Success on an individual level though, is something he ponders long to define.
When Colin Farrell called you beautiful, I proffer, gaining a merry burst of laughter.
"Exactly, such a core memory in my life now," he humours, referring to the very first time the two met. On a serious note, he goes, "Sounds cliché but living more authentically. By that I mean figuring out more about myself, my values and hopefully learning to live by them."
Who would the authentic Justin H. Min be?
The man who was once less confident and perchance a little more self-centred, or the one before me; who carries an open, positive energy that you can see why he resonates with crews and audiences alike. Who was previously a photojournalist, but whose fascination with the stories of others persists in his curiosity towards mine through the two-way conversation that the interview eventually became.
The actor who resolved from the onset to have his middle initial be present in his stage name because he feels tethered to his Korean identity. Yet was not aware of what "Hong Kee" means (he's convinced it was a phonetic preference his parents had rather than significant symbolism …but he's going to check with them after this).
The child of immigrants, who recalls Celine Dion's It's All Coming Back To Me Now as one of three albums playing in the car on family road trips. Who abides by the culture that surrounds him, who reflects on essential truths when in the forests and in the air; to imbue its amalgamation in his craft, and one day, in his children who would look back and wonder what the world was like through his eyes.
Photography: Art Streiber
Fashion Direction: Asri Jasman
Art Direction: Joan Tai
Styling: Oretta Corbelli
Producer: Cezar Grief at COOL HUNT INC
Grooming: Aika Flores at EXCLUSIVE ARTISTS using SKIN 1004 and ORIBE
Styling Assistant: Alessandra Mai Vinh
Location: Downtown LA Proper Hotel
Some people are just born performers.
As a viewer, you can, somewhat, get the sense when the on-stage persona vastly differs from their IRL personality. The unapologetically magnetic stage presence versus a modest, amiable character is often a duality afforded by those who revere their craft. TEN undoubtedly falls under the category.
Naturally introducing himself without pretension, TEN carries himself unlike someone with a celebrity status. The answers issued come across as gentle and sincere, regardless of how accomplished he is in his respective fields and regions.
Even the unprompted birthday surprise when, during the photo shoot, the crew comes out with a cake, the chorus of “Happy Birthday” sounds with equanimity. His birthday, if you must know, is 27 February; a recent entrant into a new turning around the sun.
TEN is talented, clearly. You can’t help but buy into the calling that as he had shared about knowing that this is what he wanted to do since the early age of 14. Since his days as a trainee finding foundations in South Korea, the goal was to release his own solo album. Now, years of practice have culminated into one multi-faceted articulation of who he is as an artist.
But is that an accurate depiction?
This is different from his past solo singles. The elation of presenting a full album is real, but so is the pressure. And that’s the thing about high-contrast performers; you just know the level of perfection they demand of themselves is far from the average. But perhaps attributing it to being in his late 20s, lacking no tenure in the industry, or simply personal ethos, TEN’s perspective on what matters to him now has changed a little.
Somewhere between the hopes of acting in a thriller and winding down with a cold one after a busy schedule that typically ends at midnight... somewhere amid album preparation and promotion, quiet self-reflection, and newfound inspiration... There, at the nexus of passion and creativity, is where you’ll find him, charting along an ongoing passage of growth and expression.
ESQUIRE: You’ve been part of NCT, WayV, and SuperM; how do you navigate your identity among the different groups versus as a soloist?
TEN: When I work in a team, I try to adapt to the style that was given to me. Whereas as a soloist, you get to represent yourself and do what is right for you. You’re behind the wheel now; you’re the one creating the concept with your team, so I try to understand more about myself to better represent myself.
ESQ: Is there any belief that you feel is essential to your success?
TEN: (ponders) I think I have the mindset of “Being Humble”. If you think you know too much, you will stop growing. So knowing how to educate yourself is very important for me. If I feel like I’m not being humble today, I sit down to reset my mind. You have to [tell yourself], “Don’t be arrogant. You’re assuming but there are so many things you don’t know, you have to learn more. You’re not perfect right now.” So I’ve always had this like... good negative thoughts? It helps me feel grounded again.
ESQ: Is it hard to know where you stand in terms of humility with all that surrounds you?
TEN: Since young, my mom told me to be humble. Be kind. If you’re kind and have positive thoughts, good things will come your way. I’d always keep that at the back of my mind all the time. These days, I’m more into a positive working environment. I feel that if you’re in a good environment, the outcome is way better than when you’re not in a good mood.
ESQ: Could you talk us through your creative process?
TEN: For this album [TEN - The 1st Mini Album] my team and I sat down to share ideas, photos and listen to multiple tracks of various genres. Then I’ll add my two cents and we’ll put these songs up for a vote. This process is more accurate than me saying, this is a good song. It’s interesting to see how everyone has their take and different talking points on why certain songs should be the title track or part of the tracklist.
For the dance, we received demos internationally but we took the good bits and improved on them. So there was a lot of discussion about this album.
ESQ: You’ve been in the scene for close to 10 years now, how much input do you have in what you wear for performances and appearances?
TEN: I always give my opinion on the outfit because I need to feel comfortable to perform. If I don’t feel relaxed about the things I wear, I’m not representing myself on stage. But I do listen to other people’s [feedback], I think that’s very important.
ESQ: What do you look out for when it comes to fashion?
TEN: Fashion! Nowadays, I want to see something new because when I go shopping online or offline, there’s this standard where everything kinda looks the same. I want something that can be very simple, yet stands out. Saint Laurent for example, any of its suits may have the same look as every suit but there are little details that make it look unique.
ESQ: What’s your earliest memory of the Maison?
TEN: Oh, since my debut in 2016, my stylist always gave me Saint Laurent outfits to wear for performances and music videos. I just want to stress that this isn’t scripted or anything. I’m not paid to say this; this is as real as it gets. It’s fun to see how Saint Laurent’s styling has changed since then.
For Spring/Summer 2024, all the colours and materials are very simple, but how they are used and the way they are worn just make the clothes stand out. I’ve attended two Saint Laurent shows and the collections look totally different.
ESQ: What about your relationship with art? Is there a chance your artwork can be shown to the public one day?
TEN: Art really helped me express the side of me that I couldn’t really show at work or to my peers. Since my trainee days, I would express myself through drawing whenever I felt depressed or stressed out. If someone were to ask me why I haven’t been drawing lately, it’s mainly because I don’t feel any stress currently. But I also draw when something inspires me, like a quote from a movie. I’d start drawing what could represent it. Yes, when the time is right, I want to open my own gallery and welcome all my fans to come see it. I want to be sincere and tell them the true meaning of every piece of my artwork.
ESQ: Aside from being an artist, is there anything that you were always interested in developing but did not have the time to pursue?
TEN: Ah, to go to university (laughs). I want to know how university life feels like because that’s once in a lifetime. Ok, you can enrol into university when you’re 30, but the feeling is different. It’s not regret... just curious as to [what it’s like] going wild in your early 20s in university as opposed to attending university when you’re 30.
ESQ: If you could go to university now, what course would you take up? And do you think it’d be easier or harder to cope when you’ve been in the spotlight?
TEN: Business or art. I think it’s going to be ok. I don’t think I’ll feel the difficulty in enrolling into university because of my fame because I’m always up to meeting new people.
ESQ: Is there anything you’re grateful for in your career?
TEN: When I debuted, I had a leg injury. I went to get my operation after and had to rest for two years, [which is when] I started to focus more on my vocals. The doctor told me I might not be able to dance again, and that picture got me fired up. Like, ok TEN, if you can’t dance, what could you do in this career? Let’s try developing my singing skills. So during the recovery, I went to the practice room every day practising my vocals and the result came out very nicely for me. And those two years just made TEN become who he is right now.
ESQ: Do you ever think about legacy?
TEN: I’m a person who doesn’t think too far into the future. I’ll just focus on the present. Right now, I just want to have fun. The reason I wanted to do a solo album was that I wanted to open up that part of me that I couldn’t show when I was in a group or too afraid to when I was younger. It’s about time that I get up to face my fears on stage, understand the person I am and feel free.
ESQ: Is it easier now or is it always frightening?
TEN: I’m still learning, right? It’s not easy. I had my first solo fan-con [fan concert] and it was very nerve-wracking at first. I may seem fluent but I worry all the time about what I’m going to say or whether my fans would enjoy watching my performance; do the songs sound good?
But... I figured I’d just... go with it (chuckle). Don’t think about it too much. Because the fans love you just as you are. They don’t want to see perfection; they just want to see the artist and his story. I feel like I tried too much to be perfect in the past but [ultimately] you just need to be real with yourself. Just take it slow and people will end up loving you.
ESQ: Do you feel put in a box as an idol, regarding people’s perception of you?
TEN: For now, I won’t say everybody knows who TEN is. As a soloist, this is the year when I’m representing myself as TEN. There will be more things to reveal in the future. I must keep a little suspense, otherwise, it won’t be fun to watch, right? I’m going to slowly reveal myself [bit by bit]. It’s like reading a novel or playing a video game; if you complete the game in an hour, it’s boring; you don’t want to know the climax. You have to walk one step at a time; you’d want to be on the journey of that character.
Photography: Jungwook Mok
Fashion Direction: Asri Jasman
Art Direction: Joan Tai
Styling: Sihyuk Ryu
Hair: Daeun Nam
Makeup: Hyebeen Kim
Producer: Daniel Teo
For international orders of the Esquire Singapore April 2024 issue with TEN, email ordersg@heart-media.com.
_It’s hard writing about a celebrity who [sic] international press dub “Accidental K-pop Star” and Korean media affectionately call “Nation’s Boyfriend” without rehashing facts.
These nicknames alone encompass what you need to know about the singer-songwriter. The former clues you in on his professional trajectory; from getting scouted off YouTube to placing in the finals of a Korean singing competition, subsequently kickstarting his presence in the music industry. The latter tells of his personality that has earned the collective good sentiment of fans, no doubt thanks to his bright and humorous disposition.
_What could I tell you about his recent headspace that his song “House on A Hill” doesn’t already express?
The very lyrics centred by a chorus of “what ifs” spell out his apprehensions about the pursuit of happiness. Taking after a potential property he was eyeing, the title represents the existential crisis it sparked in him about why we were taught that buying a home, among other relative “necessities”, were qualifiers for our happiness. As well as the unreliable metrics behind a sense of accomplishment, or even the motivations driving our daily grind.
“For me, it’s been as long as I’m healthy, feeling challenged and finding fulfilment in the work I’m doing, being respected and surrounded by people I love. What more do we need?” he asks rhetorically.
“Am I exhausted? Yes. Do I want to take a break? Yes. But that doesn’t mean I’m unhappy. I’m not Oh-my-god-life-is-wonderful-this-is-the-best-thing-ever overjoyed. It would be a little bit weird to be consistently like that. I might have taken some time but I’m getting to the point where on average, I’m always like, I’m good.”
One thing he fluctuates with, though, is his ADHD. An adversity his parents always regarded as a youth’s excuse rather than an actual condition. “It’s something I’m always trying to get a better grasp on. And I wish I had known better earlier. I wish I had sought help earlier. Cause when your parents say it’s not real, you think, oh maybe I’m just lazy. But I literally cannot focus on things. I cannot do very simple tasks sometimes. Many times. Very often,” he laughs.
He acknowledges that it didn’t necessarily exist the same way for a generation that survived war, absolute poverty, and making ends meet with backbreaking jobs. There’s no resentment, but it’s only at this point in his life that he can have that discussion with them on the realities of mental health.
_So is there diving deeper when the Atlanta-born artist has already shared similar, immensely personal stories on his mental health app, Mindset?
The platform he founded tackles difficult topics by celebrities in a real and open way, encouraging listeners to take heart in kindred struggles and normalise what would otherwise be taboo conversations. He leads by example with his own experiences of feeling vastly displaced twice in his lifetime.
Once as a child of immigrants in America, who spoke no English and was bullied for being different. The second time returning to Korea as a foreigner, navigating its culture when he had since lost his native language. You can hear the slight weariness in his voice as he recounts becoming an outsider yet again after having tried so hard to fit in.
This social-cultural recalibration, on top of attempting to carve out a living on unfamiliar ground, marked a murky season. Oddly, seeking help was not an option. It all came down to optics. Should the public find out, he was told, they’ll think he’s lost it, and his career would be over.
“That was such a weird perspective to wrap my head around,” he exhales, expounding on mental health in a way that echoes his fervent speech at the TIME 100 Impact Awards last year. “It is at our core. It is the beginning of who we are and how we react and how we socialise and how we love and how we are. So it’s something that everybody has to deal with.”
“And there is no one right answer. It’s finding what works for you as an individual,” he explains, raising how it’s not easy to find a good therapist, plus the cost doesn’t exactly make it a service accessible to all.
“It’s more than saying get therapy, be on this medication, meditate. I immediately fall asleep when I do meditations, so it doesn’t benefit me. But if I talk to a trusted advisor, friend or family, walking it through with them is my form of therapy. And every song that I write now. It comes from real-life encounters and what I’m going through.”
_Where do I begin mapping out the evolution of the 35-year-old’s over decade-long vocation?
He went from mimicking sounds because he barely understood the language he was singing, to finding his voice and colour as a musician. He describes it as an eye-opening process where he has witnessed growth, especially in lyrical content.
“Where it was previously young and playful, or I may not even fully know what I’m saying, everything now very much has intention,” he affirms. “Also, the confidence in my approach. Because the hardest thing about being a creative is that you’re creating stuff that’s not there, there aren’t really guardrails on what’s good or bad. Everything’s very subjective. And it’s always been nerve-wracking.”
The next steps will probably put him in a comparable situation. Having hosted/podcasted at the helm of DIVE Studios with his brothers, he foresees the next chunk on time going into acting, writing and producing. While something may or may not already be in the works, releasing a consumer product (maybe skincare, maybe wellness) is another venture he often ponders.
_I could perhaps tell you how Eric Nam is like on a Zoom interview at 6pm LA time instead.
How he’s casually in a green hoodie and his house is in disarray because he’s leaving on a flight to his ensuing world tour spot the next day. But his skin looks amazing (so yeah, he should drop that skincare line).
How he gets a little more serious than what you had expected from prior appearances. How he considers each question sincerely, with no qualms leaving pockets of silence to reflect before commenting. How these responses run long, and how he apologises for them midway. How words are chosen carefully when broaching delicate subjects, not out of distrust but in acquiescence that positions can always be misconstrued. How these spiels ultimately return to what was asked, and how he peppers endings checking if they make sense.
How he lately enjoyed a film called Didi because it made him feel seen. And amid the excess entertainment we’re inundated with, properly demonstrated what good content is supposed to do. How while it was fun, poignant, and made him laugh; its quality also served as a sobering reminder to do everything with purpose.
“I’m thankful that I’m able to do what I do right now, but honestly, there are moments I don’t know how much longer I’m going to do this,” he admits. “So we really have to enjoy what we do. We’ve been conditioned to be hypercritical so that we don’t receive criticism, and so when we see something we don’t like in or about ourselves, we tend to be very mean to ourselves, which is unfortunate.”
“There should be a practice of being grateful and complimentary of yourself. Not arrogant, not complacent. Just recognising effort and when there are things that you cannot control. Having a good head on my shoulders is something I strive for, and when I do make a mistake or something doesn’t work out, it’s fair to be disappointed.”
“There are several other factors beyond my resolve that determine whether something is successful or not. There’s timing, luck, trend; with all that’s going on in the world, anything can happen. It’s now about holding myself accountable to make the best possible decision and put my best foot forward. Whatever comes after, I must live with and have grace for myself because there’s no point in beating myself up over things I cannot control.”
_Perhaps I could explore why Eric Nam still wants to do what he does.
Why despite counting himself blessed with the opportunities he’s had, it doesn’t mean that they came freely. Why some may think everything was handed to him because they are not privy to the hurdles and the way he had to grapple behind the scenes to get to where he is today.
“Those who know, know that I was one of the first tours to go to these markets and open them up. I’ve seen people who literally do exactly what I do, and I’m more than happy to help guide them when they hit us up, but being that first one to do it was so tough,” he shares.
“So even if I don’t become the number one artist in the world who has a bajillion streams, it doesn’t matter. It’s about being as trailblazer-y as possible. To be bold and make something that seems incredibly impossible happen.”
“That’s what I want my legacy to be. It could change completely because this tour, these acting gigs and start-ups, there’s so much going on that I’m like, how do I do this? So that’s kind of where I’m at now. I hope that giving it as much as I have with the intent of doing things right, it will be to people a point of empowerment and inspiration.”
There’s a split-second Nam seems to be at peace with his answer, before he characteristically goes, “Does that make sense?”
Photography: Shawn Paul Tan
Styling: Asri Jasman
Hair: Christvian Wu using KEUNE HAIRCOSMETICS
Makeup: Kenneth Chia using YSL BEAUTY
Photography Assistant: Xie Feng Mao
Styling Assistant: Chua Xin Xuan
