As an avid theatre-goer and a lover of everything arts-related, I’ve spent countless hours discussing and analysing the shows I’ve watched with friends, acquaintances, and sometimes even strangers I meet at these performances.
Over time, these post-show rituals have left a mark on me. So much so that the moment I settle into a seat—in an auditorium, theatre hall, or black box—and the lights fall, I instinctively sink inward, mentally recording what I feel, think, and notice.
Like many others who submit to similar processes, I once believed this was a way of “enriching” myself. But recently, I’ve begun to question that instinct altogether, thanks to the opening night of a high school musical I attended just a week ago.
It was SMK Convent Green Lane’s anticipated annual musical, this time titled Encore: The Musical.
Encore: The Musical is an original school production, conceived and mounted within the Convent Green Lane community—written, directed, and executed with students involved at every level, from backstage crews and technical teams to the performers on stage. That sense of ownership is palpable even before the doors open.
The story follows a group of high school students and their drama teacher attempting to stage a musical of their own, navigating petty rivalries, bruised egos, and unresolved grief along the way. As rehearsals begin to unravel, a mysterious spirit begins to haunt the production: scripts shift, props move, and tensions rise. When the students uncover the script’s tragic past, they are forced to confront their own fears and desires, slowly rebuilding trust and compassion.
Leaning into themes of friendship, identity, and the quiet anxieties of growing up, the narrative treads familiar ground. There are no grand illusions of spectacle here; instead, it is carried by the students’ presence, their commitment, and their belief in the story they are telling.
“We didn’t just watch a musical, we stepped into one.”
— Encore: The Musical
The musical was far from perfect. Acting, at times, felt a little rigid. Some dance steps were unsynchronised. And the singing occasionally slipped off-key.
There was a moment where a transition between scenes lingered unusually long. I found myself holding my breath, offering silent prayer for these kids from my seat. Nervously, I scanned the audience, bracing for any ripples of disapproval.
Instead, the auditorium remained alive, engaged, entirely unbothered.
The show moved on soon after, and the audience carried on as if they were part of the performance; the teens weren’t just watching, they leaned in. They called out to friends on stage without hesitation. They sang along when they knew the songs. They clapped, laughed, cheered—freely, unrestrained.
I turned and looked around the auditorium again—now charged—and saw joyful faces. Rare. Unpretentious.
Something had shifted as if the energy had found its rhythm, and crowd moved with it— responsive, alive, in sync. I turned to another adult next to me:
“Are you seeing this?”
“Yes.”
“Are you feeling it too?”
“Yes!”
“You don’t have to impress anyone here. It’s just you and me.”
— Encore: The Musical
If I had to conclude the whole play in just two words, I’d say: “Cathartic. Innocent.”
No urgency to make it perfect. Things that slipped here and there were simply absorbed and folded back into the flow. The focus stayed where it mattered: the unfolding of the play and the experience shared between those on stage and those watching.
It was lovely, these unguarded reactions I was witnessing. I turned to the friend who got us the tickets and told her I finally understood why she returns to coach the students every year.
The contrast stayed with me. My reaction felt immediate, conditioned, while theirs remained light.
It came to me eventually.
I am an adult.
Because these were children, there was no quiet punishment when something went off.
And as adults, this is what we learn to do—we notice faults, we measure, we anticipate judgment, and so we begin to judge first.
We become careful and conscious in our thoughts and actions. Eventually, our very being becomes restrained. We may tell ourselves not to care about what others think, but honestly, we still do. Quietly. Persistently. Perhaps more than we realise, we can be quite hard on each other and on ourselves.
There was something in that auditorium that didn’t carry this weight. A beat was missed—on stage or backstage—and still, the moment carried on with no visible dip in energy. Mistakes weren’t failures. Instead, they were moments that passed and allowed to exist without being held against anyone.
A safe space to be.
And in that, something felt lighter. Not careless… just unburdened.
"Stories are not where we hide, it's where we find each other."
— Encore: The Musical
I used to think theatre demanded something of us—attention, analysis, discernment.
But sitting there that night, it offered something else instead.
Permission.
To not measure every moment. To not rush to make meaning. To simply be part of it, as they were.
And maybe that’s what stayed with me long after the curtain call. Not the flaws. Not even the story.
But the quiet, unfamiliar feeling of not needing to judge at all.
“...and if you don't like it, we can leave early and get some ice cream maybe."
— Encore: The Musical
About the writer:
Azida, a true lover of the arts, is on a self-declared break from the corporate world. Based in Penang, she spends her days hopping from one performance to another in search of stories that move and entertain. Offstage, she finds herself in unscripted adventures - collecting mangoes and coconuts or occasionally being chased by monkeys. Equal parts observer and participant, she writes with curiosity, insight, and a love for life’s unpredictability.
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