Wild, absurd work that attempts to make sense of what it means to enter the contemporary Chinese Theatre scene in 2025 and beyond.

What does it mean to be a maker of “contemporary Chinese theatre”? Confronting this sharp question head-on, the pioneer cohort of Nanyang Academy of Fine Arts’ (NAFA) BA (Hons) Contemporary Chinese Theatres programme grapples with the industry they are about to enter, channelling their anxieties and ambitions into a wholly original new work.

Directed by Emergency Stairs’ Liu Xiaoyi, Temporary Chinese Theatres resists categorisation. Rather than a traditional narrative, it unfolds as a discussion in performance form, questioning, teasing apart, and reassembling the notion of Chinese theatre today. Its title itself plays on the word “contemporary” while acknowledging the fleeting, unstable nature of the form: momentary, improvised, ever-changing.

This fluidity shapes the show’s structure. Even before the performance begins, audiences are invited to explore the studio, encountering visual installations created by each of the six graduating artists. These abstract pieces—reflecting on language, surtitles, legacy, and space—offer no clear answers, but establish a contemplative mood and foreground the individuality of each maker.

Staged in the round, the performance sees the six graduates (Chen Yitong, Liao Yanni, Luo Hanwen, Meng Jiaoyang, Tay Qing Xin, and Zhuang Chuhang), dressed in casual streetwear, embarking on a series of seemingly nonsensical games. The first is a chaotic twist on What’s the Time, Mr Wolf?, with the “wolf” calling out years rather than hours, counting down before the others scatter—an irreverent but pointed gesture toward history and the relentless march of time.

What grounds the work as uniquely theirs is its fiery youthfulness. Interestingly, every scene is preceded by a quotation from a renowned Western theatremaker, raising an uncomfortable implication: that Chinese theatre still lacks the globally recognised frameworks that might anchor its identity, and that even “contemporary Chinese theatre” remains entangled with Western ideals.

Each scene then feels like a burst of frustration and confusion from artists caught in a state of limbo, desperate to make sense of what lies ahead. They acknowledge their status as newcomers through overt audience engagement—stretching lengths of rope across the performance space to be held by audience members and creating literal lines of connection; whipping out their phones to show us absurd TikTok videos; and breaking the performer–spectator divide with irreverent humour.

This distinctly Gen-Z sensibility becomes the show’s backbone. Each fragment resembles a piece of short-form online content, echoing the experience of doomscrolling in search of meaning. Yet the tone remains vibrant rather than bleak. The sheer audacity of the sequences is wildly entertaining: a monologue about Mexican jumping beans delivered with earnest intensity; a rapid-fire tongue-twister contest that borders on competitive chaos; an onscreen Zoom call inserting digital distance into the live space; and the entire cast breaking into a viral dance routine, escalating to the point of ridiculousness. Does it all come together? It’s difficult to define, but the accumulation of actions gestures toward a collective desire to locate their place within the canon of Chinese theatre—and to confront the troubling temporality of the art form itself.

The work eventually shifts from playfulness to poignancy. The ensemble charts a timeline of Chinese theatre in Singapore, from its origins through the deaths of major figures in the local scene, set against Jiang Yu Heng’s wistful 《再回首》. As the timeline moves past the present into the imagined future, the performers leave one by one, acknowledging that they too will eventually depart the scene. It is not defeatist, but a sober recognition that all things end—and that the only response is to keep creating with passion while we can.

The final scene contains no dialogue. A steady rhythm builds into a club beat, strobe lights flash, and a single performer moves in slow motion toward the microphone at centre stage. Throughout the performance, the microphone has symbolised voice, presence, and the ability to breathe life into theatre. As she inches closer, the work’s emotional threads converge: desperation, magnetism, hope, and belief in the significance of their temporary moment.

Ranging among the most lucid, emotional, and fiercely entertaining collaborations between Emergency Stairs and NAFA, Temporary Chinese Theatres succeeds as a bold theatrical thought experiment—finding meaning in senselessness and leaving audiences eager to see where this group of artists will take contemporary Chinese theatre next.

Photo Credit: Memphis West Pictures/Don Wong

Temporary Chinese Theatres played from 20th to 23rd November 2025 at the NAFA Studio Theatre. More information available here

Production Credits

Curator/Director Liu Xiaoyi Creators/ Performers Chen Yitong, Liao Yanni, Luo Hanwen, Meng Jiaoyang, Tay Qing Xin, Zhuang Chuhang Producer/Visual Arts Advisor Huang Suhuai Production Manager Celestine Wong Stage Manager Voon Yuegi Spatial Designer Liu Xiaoyi Sound Design Mentor Dayn Ng Chee Yao Sound Designers Wong Cheow Cai & Seem Jia Ang Lighting Coordinator Emanorwatty Saleh Lighting Operator Lim Jia Hui Surtitle operator Seow Min Stage Crew Tan Yu Ning, Gywneth Project Coordinators Chen Jing & Lin Jing Graphic Designer Huang Suhuai