★★★☆☆ Review: Pickle Party by The Theatre Practice

Part educational workshop, part reflection on the past and future of food in Singapore, the latest work by Ang Xiao Ting raises poignant questions but may still need time to ferment.

Theatremaker Ang Xiao Ting has always been interested in matters of conservation in consumption, themes which eventually came to manifest in her original creations under The Theatre Practice (Practice), such as her work on Practice Tuckshop, or Extinction Feast (2022), often dealing with issues of food rescue and sustainable eating. And with the Singapore Food Agency’s looming ’30 by 30′ target of attaining 30% of our country’s nutritional needs by 2030, it feels timely that Ang foregrounds the issue in her new production, using it as a launchpad for questions about control: how far we’ve come, and how little power we may truly have over the future of our food industry.

Rounding off the Esplanade’s The Studios 2025 season, Pickle Party then takes on a similar whimsy to Ang’s previous work, and is framed as a livestreamed pickle making workshop – and yes, audience members can even sign up to be ‘picklers’, and get to participate in the workshop and take home their own jars of pickles made during the show. Co-directed by Ang and Kuo Jian Hong, and written by Wang Liansheng, from the moment one steps into the Esplanade Annexe Studio, you’re already greeted by the unmistakable scent of pandan from the bundles of leaves strewn above the stage. A rounded projection screen displays cellular structures bubbling away that represent the fermentation and pickling process, while Tanja Beer’s set, an adaptation of her ‘The Living Stage’, sees an impressive line-up of shelves full of pickled items, establishing this as a living, breathing kitchen-lab, ready to present a sensorial experience for all.

Hosted by energetic hosts Min and Zul (Elizabeth Loy and Izzul Irfan), dressed in brightly coloured jackets printed with fresh produce (designed by MAX.TAN), the vibe in the theatre is a lively one, as they introduce themselves and the set-up for the show; bringing in the motley crew of audience picklers, they also show off the live VJ elements, with cameras set up to project close-ups of the performers onto the screen, and green screens manually shifted about to produce differing backdrops for each sequence, before the picklers get to work selecting a vegetable or fruit to be pickled, and even imbuing it with their ‘qi’ in a cute, cult-like ritual.

Pickle Party brims with ideas, sometimes to the point of too much. Both Elizabeth Loy and Izzul Irfan are given an uphill task here, having to juggle facilitating the picklers, addressing the seated audience members, and of course, ensuring the actual show goes on. There’s a lot to love about the energy that Loy and Izzul put into their performance – there are cute names they give to their pickles – Lady Gaga (because she’s MOTHER) or ‘Scoby Wan Kenobi’, and they do feel like the (annoying) influencers on social media in real life, armed with infectious smiles, and of course, a word from their sponsors.

But these bouncy, influencer-style personas often collide awkwardly with the show’s deeper concern about the fragile sense of control we have over our lives and food systems. Watching this show feels a little like doomscrolling through TikToks or Instagram Reels – you have Min pumping up the energy as the picklers squeeze the moisture out of their salted produce to a techno beat, before launching into an anecdote from her childhood. A somewhat absurd humour moment where the duo list out individual ingredients that go into a vinegar mix moves to the emotional, where sniffing the mix triggers Zul’s memories of his grandfather. The ideas make sense, but the execution is abrupt for the audience. Each idea makes sense in isolation, but abrupt execution leaves the audience grasping for control of the shifting tones. Those tonal shifts felt a bit forced, as though two separate shows were happening at once, where audience members, when asked about their favourite vegetable and a food memory, are either flabbergasted or can’t come up with anything of note on the spot, seemingly defeating the purpose of what could have been a poignant moment.

What Pickle Party is clearest about is its central theme of control, or the lack of it. Throughout the performance, there is a consistent anxiety over how little power and agency we seem to have in everything, both historically, from how the farms of Singapore were forced to bend to the whims of the government as we went from kampung to metropolis, and in the future, where we ‘bo pian’ (no choice) have to eat the insect protein-based bread or lab-grown chicken, due to the inevitability of climate change and other crises. It’s a depressing prospect that reminds us of the sense of paralysis many of us feel when it comes to being an individual taking on all the horrors of the world, and being powerless to stop it – even the process of lacto-fermenting one’s own pickles has no guarantee of success. These are often accompanied by gorgeous flourishes of theatricality, from intimate, low lighting, to an undersea projection washing across the stage, making it feel as if we’re underwater, while bubbles float on down.

These anxieties are also reflected in Min and Zul’s backstories, which come to light over the course of the play. Min thinks of how her parents were determined to send her overseas to the UK to study, and she being a first generation college student, wonders about whether it truly is worth the risk, and the resultant leap of faith she took – leading to her bringing back pickling culture to Singapore. Zul on the other hand is the father of a young daughter, who worries about the world she will grow up to face, himself unable to teach her why her green beans are not sprouting in a school science experiment, and feeling helpless. Though brief, these storylines form a symbolic parallel, providing a snapshot into how each generation faces fear, uncertainty, and the temptation to control what may ultimately be uncontrollable.

Yet, Pickle Party wants you to end on a note of hope – after all, the act of pickling itself is an act of bottling hope, holding on to what good nutrients we can and putting it into storage, even if for just a little longer, or finding ways of controlling what we can or cannot keep. A particularly poignant anecdote stays with us, when they reference a Japanese farmer adapting to floods brought about by climate change by converting to a floating farm, rising and falling with the ebb and flow of tides. And now, given the knowledge on how to pickle, we too might be able to have some semblance of control after all. Pickle Party is filled with ambition and heart, playing with theatrical form, sensory textures, and audience engagement – but at this stage of its own fermentation, it feels less like a finished dish than an experiment with promise, one still searching for control of its many flavours.

Photo Credit: The Theatre Practice

Pickle Party plays from 11th to 14th September 2025 at the Esplanade Annexe Studio. Tickets available here

The Studios 2025 – Sustenance runs from July to September 2025. Full programme and more information available here

Production Credits:

Concept/Co-director Ang Xiao Ting
Co-director (Video Projection) Kuo Jian Hong
Scriptwriter Wang Liansheng
Cast Izzul Irfan, Elizabeth Loy
Set Designer Tanja Beer
Lighting Designer Faith Liu Yong Huay
Sound Designer Sandra Tay
Costume Designer MAX.TAN

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