If you were a teenager in Singapore in the noughties, you may recall the chaos in a Neoprint booth. After choosing our favourite photos, my friends and I would decorate them with as many glittered words and kawaii stamps as we could to memorialise our friendship before time ran out, resulting in haphazardly designed final print-outs.
In 2024, the photos that plaster the walls and ceiling of Sajeev Digital Studio at 23 Kerbau Road in Little India radiate a similar unhinged yet joyful energy.
Owned and run by Singaporean K Sajeev Lal and his wife Sheeja Shaj since 2002, the old school studio is possibly the last of its kind in Singapore. But it’s also extra unique because its kitschy aesthetic stands out among myriad modern photo studios that tend to adopt IKEA’s Scandinavian style.
The entrance to Sajeev Digital Studio, run by K Sajeev Lal and his wife Sheeja Shaj, is hard to miss. (Photo: CNA/Grace Yeoh)
While a poster outside Sajeev's studio lists the services that he offers, it's best to enquire for specifics. (Photo: CNA/Grace Yeoh)
There doesn’t seem to be any guiding principle to the campy collage cut-outs or studio props, which Sajeev uses to transform standard portraits into magical realist dioramas straight out of a Tim Burton or Wes Anderson filmset.
Perhaps the 58-year-old’s reply to how he derived his signature design – “do funny, funny thing I happy” – best encapsulates the sheer sincerity that underpins the whimsy. His English might be limited, but his imagination is boundless.
Offbeat portraits, edited upon customers' requests, are plastered around the studio. (Photo: CNA/Grace Yeoh)
Portraits fill almost every possible empty wall space. (Photo: CNA/Grace Yeoh)
OLD SCHOOL, QUIRKY PHOTO STUDIO
In one photo, an Indian toddler wearing a sari poses between a pink and green genie, against a reddish gradient backdrop dotted with stars a la Microsoft PowerPoint 97.
In another series of photos stuck next to a wall fan on the first floor, a group of Caucasians dressed in Indian attire provided by the studio pose with a child-sized Suzuki electric motorbike, two huge bouquets of fake flowers, and... a vacuum cleaner. A man at the back can be seen smooching a stuffed bear with a gold chain. (Cultural appropriation? Doesn't exist.)
Hard to miss the striking portraits behind the cashier. (Photo: CNA/Grace Yeoh)
It’s hard to pick my favourite Sajeev invention, but a heavily edited photo behind the cashier comes close. An Indian man with sunglasses is framed by notable Singapore landmarks and buildings, like Marina Bay Sands, the Singapore Flyer and the Merlion. Two planes and two cameras float on either side of the man’s head.
The best part is that a cut-out of the Singapore skyline, made up of photos taken by Sajeev himself, has also been stuck on the man’s sunglasses – a design decision that the Photoshop prodigy enthusiastically pointed out.
The studio on the second floor, where customers pick a unique backdrop before their shoot. (Photo: CNA/Grace Yeoh)
Another thing noticeably different about Sajeev’s studio are the handful of vibrant painted backdrops, somewhat reminiscent of utopian communist poster art, that customers select from before their shoot. Compared with the “plain backdrops” provided by most other studios, posing in front of a lake and trees or balustrade pillars certainly adds a little pizazz.
Some designs were bought from other photo studios that shut down, while others were given free, Sajeev said. And they’re not easy to replace once spoilt.
“So many different background spoil already. So many tear. This one also got crack a lot. People step, step, walking, scratching,” he shared.
But I suspect these imperfections don't matter to paying customers. They're definitely inconsequential to me; in less than a minute of setting foot into the shophouse studio, I went from “what is going on?” to “I kind of need this in my life”.
Judging by the "wallpaper" from his stairwell to studio, so do many migrant workers.
Photos of migrant workers on the walls. (Photo: CNA/Grace Yeoh)
More photos of migrant workers on the walls. (Photo: CNA/Grace Yeoh)
Photos of migrant workers on the ceiling. (Photo: CNA/Grace Yeoh)
GETTING CUSTOMERS COMFORTABLE
Sajeev’s studio first gained semi-mainstream attention in 2015, when his work with young male migrant workers was highlighted in a photo exhibition at visual arts space Objectifs. For S$20 per soft copy portrait, including touch-up services, Sajeev helps these workers find brides back in their home country.
“They take photo, send to India, then the parents find the wife for them, then confirm already, they go back and get married… They like it. (When they) find wife, the girl also like,” he proudly shared.
The success rate? Apparently, “100 per cent” – a record worthy of the former wedding photographer.
On the other hand, couples or friends who come for “funny photo taking” are charged around S$35 for two people, also a single soft copy portrait including touch-up services, while a group of about three or four people could cost around S$50 in total. But the final price ultimately depends on what exactly the customer wants, he added.
Sajeev's pride and joy - the countless portraits he's taken over 20 years. (Photo: CNA/Grace Yeoh)
There is good news for the camera shy or those who take some time to warm up: Sajeev is not a stickler for time, at least not when customers are scant these days.
“If people come first time, (after they) relax then okay already. After one photo, second one, okay already. A lot of people come, they don’t want to smile. Don’t know if scared or what,” he said, offering a probable explanation for the deadpan facial expressions that make each photo equally absurd and amusing.
“Time no fix one,” he added when asked about the duration of each session. “Depends on people. If they’re happy (with the photo I) show them, then okay. If not happy, then take again, no problem.”
And for those without their own outfit, he provides a few racks of clothing to choose from – which explains the similar garb worn by different customers.
CHANGING TIMES, CONSTANT PASSION
Meanwhile, family photos are priced at S$360 to S$380 for a 16x20-inch portrait, depending on what frame they choose. Such family photos, however, are rare these days, so Sajeev added framing services post-pandemic to make up for the loss.
“Last time never do framing, but photography studio not much people coming. The family photos also very less; in one month, there are one to two. Last time, every week there are many people coming,” he explained.
“Any frame (that) people want, I can do… Some people bring a big frame and they want to make it smaller, I can make it,” he added, pointing to his wife’s TikTok account where she posts videos of Sajeev's framing skills.
The social media platform is also a way for the couple to fight competition from mobile phones and “young people” setting up photo studios “in warehouses”, which resulted in fewer customers even before the pandemic.
Sajeev showing off his framing work for a customer. (Photo: CNA/Grace Yeoh)
Some frames in Sajeev's photo studio. (Photo: CNA/Grace Yeoh)
Although Sajeev couldn’t quite explain why photography makes him happy (“I just like”, he smiled and shrugged), he knew he loved taking photos from the time he was a teenager. He’d left for India as a child for over a decade to be with his sick mother and returned to Singapore just in time for National Service – and to discover his interest in photography.
The then-budding photographer later enrolled in a course at SAFRA to learn more about film photography, including how to work in a darkroom and develop negatives.
His first camera was a “small, small camera, smaller than 35mm", because it was all he could afford. Eventually, he saved enough money through working to buy the Nikon F4, which was at the time “about S$2,000” and “the best camera”, he said.
Over time, Sajeev noticed more people picking up the craft with digital cameras, which allow photographers to “take and see immediately” and reshoot the photo as many times as they wish, he reasoned.
“(Film) roll is not easy, nobody can take 100 per cent. You don’t know the aperture, shutter, then take already no use, later blackout. Only school students (use) for learning. Other than that, don’t have, people don’t want.”
But the digital revolution didn’t stamp out Sajeev’s love for the old school, and neither did it bother him that others were becoming less interested in film. If he was behind the lens, toying with the settings he liked, he was happy. Even with a digital camera today, he always opts for manual over auto mode.
“Because last time, I follow like that. (Manual) makes the photo better. If you use auto, if you enlarge the photo, it’s pixelated, no good. If manual, you close the aperture, it become better quality,” he explained.
Whimsical collages that Sajeev has created on Photoshop. (Photo: CNA/Grace Yeoh)
Sajeev uses Photoshop to decorate his portraits with cut-outs. (Photo: CNA/Grace Yeoh)
This stuffed bear wearing a gold chain is a popular choice of prop among customers. (Photo: CNA/Grace Yeoh)
And then I finally got the guiding principle behind Sajeev’s campy collage cut-outs and studio props. Similar to his natural inclination to photography, the man simply likes what he likes. There is no deeper philosophy about vintage or heritage businesses, no carefully curated thought process or marketing strategy behind his studio’s aesthetic.
For instance, the child-sized electric motorbike in the corner of the studio once belonged to his son as a child. “Then one day, spoil already, I put here. Then people like to take photo, so I continue let them use,” he said.
“People go upload to Facebook, so many different sites, then (other) people see already, come and want to use the motorbike. The (electric) car also same. Once people see already in the Google or with friends’ (photos), then they come here. I never do anything, never upload.”
The final print-out might look artificial, but the process is anything but. Zhuzhing up a stoic portrait with a field of sunflowers in the foreground, Fullerton Hotel’s neoclassical architecture in the background, and a Merlion spitting water at the subject’s head is perfectly normal to Sajeev. And his acceptance of his own eccentricities has a way of making others feel comfortable in front of the camera.
In fact, a Google review of Sajeev Digital Studio offers possibly the most top-tier compliment a photographer can receive: “It did my personality justice.”
Continue reading...
In 2024, the photos that plaster the walls and ceiling of Sajeev Digital Studio at 23 Kerbau Road in Little India radiate a similar unhinged yet joyful energy.
Owned and run by Singaporean K Sajeev Lal and his wife Sheeja Shaj since 2002, the old school studio is possibly the last of its kind in Singapore. But it’s also extra unique because its kitschy aesthetic stands out among myriad modern photo studios that tend to adopt IKEA’s Scandinavian style.
The entrance to Sajeev Digital Studio, run by K Sajeev Lal and his wife Sheeja Shaj, is hard to miss. (Photo: CNA/Grace Yeoh)
While a poster outside Sajeev's studio lists the services that he offers, it's best to enquire for specifics. (Photo: CNA/Grace Yeoh)
There doesn’t seem to be any guiding principle to the campy collage cut-outs or studio props, which Sajeev uses to transform standard portraits into magical realist dioramas straight out of a Tim Burton or Wes Anderson filmset.
Perhaps the 58-year-old’s reply to how he derived his signature design – “do funny, funny thing I happy” – best encapsulates the sheer sincerity that underpins the whimsy. His English might be limited, but his imagination is boundless.
Offbeat portraits, edited upon customers' requests, are plastered around the studio. (Photo: CNA/Grace Yeoh)
Portraits fill almost every possible empty wall space. (Photo: CNA/Grace Yeoh)
OLD SCHOOL, QUIRKY PHOTO STUDIO
In one photo, an Indian toddler wearing a sari poses between a pink and green genie, against a reddish gradient backdrop dotted with stars a la Microsoft PowerPoint 97.
In another series of photos stuck next to a wall fan on the first floor, a group of Caucasians dressed in Indian attire provided by the studio pose with a child-sized Suzuki electric motorbike, two huge bouquets of fake flowers, and... a vacuum cleaner. A man at the back can be seen smooching a stuffed bear with a gold chain. (Cultural appropriation? Doesn't exist.)
Hard to miss the striking portraits behind the cashier. (Photo: CNA/Grace Yeoh)
It’s hard to pick my favourite Sajeev invention, but a heavily edited photo behind the cashier comes close. An Indian man with sunglasses is framed by notable Singapore landmarks and buildings, like Marina Bay Sands, the Singapore Flyer and the Merlion. Two planes and two cameras float on either side of the man’s head.
The best part is that a cut-out of the Singapore skyline, made up of photos taken by Sajeev himself, has also been stuck on the man’s sunglasses – a design decision that the Photoshop prodigy enthusiastically pointed out.
The studio on the second floor, where customers pick a unique backdrop before their shoot. (Photo: CNA/Grace Yeoh)
Another thing noticeably different about Sajeev’s studio are the handful of vibrant painted backdrops, somewhat reminiscent of utopian communist poster art, that customers select from before their shoot. Compared with the “plain backdrops” provided by most other studios, posing in front of a lake and trees or balustrade pillars certainly adds a little pizazz.
Some designs were bought from other photo studios that shut down, while others were given free, Sajeev said. And they’re not easy to replace once spoilt.
“So many different background spoil already. So many tear. This one also got crack a lot. People step, step, walking, scratching,” he shared.
But I suspect these imperfections don't matter to paying customers. They're definitely inconsequential to me; in less than a minute of setting foot into the shophouse studio, I went from “what is going on?” to “I kind of need this in my life”.
Judging by the "wallpaper" from his stairwell to studio, so do many migrant workers.
Photos of migrant workers on the walls. (Photo: CNA/Grace Yeoh)
More photos of migrant workers on the walls. (Photo: CNA/Grace Yeoh)
Photos of migrant workers on the ceiling. (Photo: CNA/Grace Yeoh)
GETTING CUSTOMERS COMFORTABLE
Sajeev’s studio first gained semi-mainstream attention in 2015, when his work with young male migrant workers was highlighted in a photo exhibition at visual arts space Objectifs. For S$20 per soft copy portrait, including touch-up services, Sajeev helps these workers find brides back in their home country.
“They take photo, send to India, then the parents find the wife for them, then confirm already, they go back and get married… They like it. (When they) find wife, the girl also like,” he proudly shared.
The success rate? Apparently, “100 per cent” – a record worthy of the former wedding photographer.
On the other hand, couples or friends who come for “funny photo taking” are charged around S$35 for two people, also a single soft copy portrait including touch-up services, while a group of about three or four people could cost around S$50 in total. But the final price ultimately depends on what exactly the customer wants, he added.
Sajeev's pride and joy - the countless portraits he's taken over 20 years. (Photo: CNA/Grace Yeoh)
There is good news for the camera shy or those who take some time to warm up: Sajeev is not a stickler for time, at least not when customers are scant these days.
“If people come first time, (after they) relax then okay already. After one photo, second one, okay already. A lot of people come, they don’t want to smile. Don’t know if scared or what,” he said, offering a probable explanation for the deadpan facial expressions that make each photo equally absurd and amusing.
“Time no fix one,” he added when asked about the duration of each session. “Depends on people. If they’re happy (with the photo I) show them, then okay. If not happy, then take again, no problem.”
And for those without their own outfit, he provides a few racks of clothing to choose from – which explains the similar garb worn by different customers.
CHANGING TIMES, CONSTANT PASSION
Meanwhile, family photos are priced at S$360 to S$380 for a 16x20-inch portrait, depending on what frame they choose. Such family photos, however, are rare these days, so Sajeev added framing services post-pandemic to make up for the loss.
“Last time never do framing, but photography studio not much people coming. The family photos also very less; in one month, there are one to two. Last time, every week there are many people coming,” he explained.
“Any frame (that) people want, I can do… Some people bring a big frame and they want to make it smaller, I can make it,” he added, pointing to his wife’s TikTok account where she posts videos of Sajeev's framing skills.
The social media platform is also a way for the couple to fight competition from mobile phones and “young people” setting up photo studios “in warehouses”, which resulted in fewer customers even before the pandemic.
Sajeev showing off his framing work for a customer. (Photo: CNA/Grace Yeoh)
Some frames in Sajeev's photo studio. (Photo: CNA/Grace Yeoh)
Although Sajeev couldn’t quite explain why photography makes him happy (“I just like”, he smiled and shrugged), he knew he loved taking photos from the time he was a teenager. He’d left for India as a child for over a decade to be with his sick mother and returned to Singapore just in time for National Service – and to discover his interest in photography.
The then-budding photographer later enrolled in a course at SAFRA to learn more about film photography, including how to work in a darkroom and develop negatives.
His first camera was a “small, small camera, smaller than 35mm", because it was all he could afford. Eventually, he saved enough money through working to buy the Nikon F4, which was at the time “about S$2,000” and “the best camera”, he said.
Over time, Sajeev noticed more people picking up the craft with digital cameras, which allow photographers to “take and see immediately” and reshoot the photo as many times as they wish, he reasoned.
“(Film) roll is not easy, nobody can take 100 per cent. You don’t know the aperture, shutter, then take already no use, later blackout. Only school students (use) for learning. Other than that, don’t have, people don’t want.”
But the digital revolution didn’t stamp out Sajeev’s love for the old school, and neither did it bother him that others were becoming less interested in film. If he was behind the lens, toying with the settings he liked, he was happy. Even with a digital camera today, he always opts for manual over auto mode.
“Because last time, I follow like that. (Manual) makes the photo better. If you use auto, if you enlarge the photo, it’s pixelated, no good. If manual, you close the aperture, it become better quality,” he explained.
Whimsical collages that Sajeev has created on Photoshop. (Photo: CNA/Grace Yeoh)
Sajeev uses Photoshop to decorate his portraits with cut-outs. (Photo: CNA/Grace Yeoh)
This stuffed bear wearing a gold chain is a popular choice of prop among customers. (Photo: CNA/Grace Yeoh)
And then I finally got the guiding principle behind Sajeev’s campy collage cut-outs and studio props. Similar to his natural inclination to photography, the man simply likes what he likes. There is no deeper philosophy about vintage or heritage businesses, no carefully curated thought process or marketing strategy behind his studio’s aesthetic.
For instance, the child-sized electric motorbike in the corner of the studio once belonged to his son as a child. “Then one day, spoil already, I put here. Then people like to take photo, so I continue let them use,” he said.
“People go upload to Facebook, so many different sites, then (other) people see already, come and want to use the motorbike. The (electric) car also same. Once people see already in the Google or with friends’ (photos), then they come here. I never do anything, never upload.”
The final print-out might look artificial, but the process is anything but. Zhuzhing up a stoic portrait with a field of sunflowers in the foreground, Fullerton Hotel’s neoclassical architecture in the background, and a Merlion spitting water at the subject’s head is perfectly normal to Sajeev. And his acceptance of his own eccentricities has a way of making others feel comfortable in front of the camera.
In fact, a Google review of Sajeev Digital Studio offers possibly the most top-tier compliment a photographer can receive: “It did my personality justice.”
Continue reading...