A moving, necessary primer on emotional intelligence for both children and adults.

The beauty of the arts often lies in how they are able to produce powerful emotional responses, representing and platforming a degree of authenticity onstage that allows for audiences to undergo catharsis. And in a country like Singapore, where emotional and mental health are just beginning to enter mainstream conversation, it seems more important than ever to learn how to access and communicate and process one’s feelings, a feat that Esplanade’s Theatre for Young Audiences (TYA) production The Feelings Farm achieves with aplomb.

Assembling an all-star creative team that includes director Edith Podesta, playwright Amanda Chong and composer Julian Wong, The Feelings Farm returned in October for a second successful run after its initial showing back in 2021. Where that first edition was performed under new post-pandemic rules, this new staging has complete freedom, and now takes place at the Singtel Waterfront Theatre, playing to a full house of families. The production itself follows three children working on a school project, where they find themselves in Kranji. Stumbling across a mysterious place known as The Feelings Farm, the three become separated, and must navigate shifting landscapes associated with various emotions, where the only way out is to acknowledge and learn how to handle each one.

It is easy to dismiss a TYA show as intended solely for younger audience members, but the creatives behind The Feelings Farm have crafted a show that is truly for all ages, never oversimplifying its content, and including material and issues that can be appreciated by both children and adults. Integral to achieving this is how each of the three main characters are fully-fleshed out, each with their own challenges and rich backstory that allows us to fully understand why they are feeling they way they do. There’s the awkward but kind Kai (Marcus Cheong), who deals with some of the toughest emotions on hand such as fear and sadness, coping by doodling in a private sketchbook, and worrying about his grandmother’s dementia.

Then there’s the brash and bold Mira (Shafiqhah Efandi), who appears strong on the outside, but grapples with feelings of envy and embarrassment when she compares her family’s financial situation to her classmates, unable to go on expensive holidays. Finally, there’s Shan (Udaya Soundari), initially the most prickly of the three as she boasts about her big house and affluence, but hides plenty of inner anxiety and anger over how she isn’t able to make any friends, and the copious amount of tension between her parents at home, on the verge of a divorce. All three actors may be adults, but they bring out an innocence to their performance in their voices and physicality, making them believable as children and characters we end up rooting for.

Plus, these are characters that feel authentically written and familiar, dealing with problems that any Singaporean will be familiar with, whether child or adult. The Feelings Farm never judges them for it, only gives them the space to process these thoughts, allowing their interactions and conflicts to naturally unfold between each other due to differences in upbringing and experience. More than that, The Feelings Farm is optimistic while realistic in its approach; all of them become keenly aware that they cannot change their circumstances, but by its end, learn how to accept it, and find ways to carry on in spite of these difficult feelings.

This is all conveyed through a series of episodic lessons, as the children encounter one whimsical landscape after another. There is a beauty in how fantastic yet familiar these are, from a lallang-filled Field of Fear, to the damp and dreary Longkang of Loneliness. Director Edith Podesta has conjured up innovative ways to make each of these spaces come to life via a myriad of theatrical tricks, showcasing the power of creation and possibly even inspiring young audience members of how they too could create art in their own living room. Using transparencies on an OHP mimics traditional wayang kulit-style shadow puppetry, for example, while larger-than-life puppets (designed by Myra Loke and puppeteered by Syaiful Hairi and Bib Mockram), such as a massive ant at the Anthill of Anger, or a sea Jellyfish of Jealousy, are visually-stunning and provoke wonder at the existence of such amazing creatures brought to life onstage. At one point, Edith even has Marcus perform contemporary choreography as he dances out his feelings of depression, where we feel the weight of his sadness while an animation of his drawings plays out onscreen to wordlessly convey the distress and helplessness felt in the face of an immovable crisis.

In addition, Julian Wong’s music is catchy, always appropriate for each feeling as it hits joyous major keys that prompt us to dance when the children have overcome challenges, or slower, more sombre pieces that leave us in a more reflective mood as it washes over us. The lyrics are also easy to follow while containing simply steps, sung as a refrain, that remind the children (and us) of an SOP for whenever feelings get too overwhelming – to take a deep breath and consider our thoughts and our bodily reactions before identifying the feeling, to comprehend why we’re feeling that way, and to remember even the most uncomfortable of feelings will come to pass eventually. If anything, The Feelings Farm is quite simply, not afraid to tackle tough topics and heavy material, that the team has made incredibly accessible. A large part of this is due to the character of the Cloud (Elisha Beston), fluffy and gentle in her voice and costume (designed by Max Tan), who is always present to guide the children along the way. As a mentor figure, the Cloud always delivers timely lessons that help summarise each encounter, further reinforcing the tools audience members can use to process their feelings.

It is all of these elements combined that makes The Feelings Farm far more than the sum of its parts, with power in its authentic storytelling and characterisation, and catchy songs that remain in your mind long after leaving the theatre. This is TYA at its best, an imaginative concept that has been expertly brought to life by an experienced creative team that remains grounded in realism, and you might even find yourself on the verge of tears at particularly emotional scenes. The Feelings Farm deserves as wide an audience as possible, and one hopes that it continues to find new life in future editions and forms, as a necessary, essential toolkit and primer for anyone, child or adult, in learning how best to grapple with difficult emotions.

Photo(s) by Crispian Chan, courtesy of Esplanade – Theatres on the Bay

The Feelings Farm ran till 26th October 2025 at the Singtel Waterfront Theatre. Tickets and more information available here

Production Credits:

Book & Lyrics Amanda Chong Music Julian Wong Director Edith Podesta Cast Elisha Beston, Udaya Soundari, Shafiqhah Efandi, Marcus Cheong Puppeteers Syaiful Hairi, Bib Mockram Ensemble Benjamin Lye, Fiona Chua Music Director Joel Nah Rehearsal Accompanist Jonathan Shin Puppetry Designer/Consult, Props Designer/Maker Myra Loke Set Designer Akbar Syadiq Costume Designer Max Tan Lighting Designer James Tan Set Assistant Aida Sa’ad Sound Operator Jed Halisay Producer Shridar Mani (The Public Space) Production Manager Cindy Yeong Technical Manager Huang Xiang Bin Stage Manager Jeannette Irabu Assistant Stage Manager Nurul Asyiqin Recording Musicians Percussion Rizal Sanip Band Ryan Sim (Cello), Brandon Wong (Bass), Christabelle Sheum (Harpist), Christina Zhou (Violin)