Dancers loved practising in this Singapore walkway. Then the complaints came

Dancers loved practising in this Singapore walkway. Then the complaints came

The underground corridor linking a train station to Singapore’s iconic Gardens by the Bay, known for its wide floors and mirrored walls, was a beloved spot for dancers. But all that changed on 1 January when the mirrors were frosted, prompting a flurry of discussions about the city’s approach to public space.

Hundreds of commuters and tourists pass through the expansive tunnel daily, many heading to the city’s top attraction. Dancers had long used the space, relying on its reflective surfaces and the presence of an audience. However, local media reported that complaints about them “blocking pedestrian flow” in this high-traffic area led to the decision to obscure the mirrors.

This incident sparked a debate beyond just space management. It touched on Singapore’s cultural emphasis on orderliness, the ease with which people voice concerns, and the city’s extensive rules. Critics argued that these measures might suppress the spontaneity often seen in bustling metropolises.

Urban planning expert Tan Shin Bin from the National University of Singapore noted that while additional restrictions aren’t inherently problematic, the key issue lies in whether the decisions are “well-considered and fair.” He questioned whose needs are prioritized as valid and whose are deemed secondary.

Authorities explained that the walkway, owned by private developers like Marina Bay Sands (MBS), is meant to “facilitate all-weather, safe and convenient connectivity.” Yet the choice to frost the mirrors generated backlash. Some Singaporeans felt the dancers were inconsiderate, sometimes obstructing the path with props. A popular Instagram comment, garnering over 3,000 likes, stated, “If they had kept to one side, no-one would have complained.”

“There’s a definite plan, and we stuck with the plan. There is no corruption and nobody can deviate from the plans. A building that is not in accordance with the plan cannot be allowed,” Lee Kuan Yew said in an interview in 2012.

Others defended the dancers, arguing the move to frost the mirrors was “blunt” and “rigid.” Some highlighted the motivation they gained from watching fellow performers and the joy of tourists joining in. Wilson Tay, a dancer who practiced twice weekly, shared, “Seeing other dancers around me was really motivating… It was also fun when tourists stopped by and tried to mimic my moves.”

Now, the walkway lacks its former vibrancy. K-pop beats are absent, and the once lively environment has quieted. Tay now practices at a train station two stops away, where five full-length mirrors are installed in a corner, marked with yellow tape. “It is very quiet here and much less vibrant,” he remarked. “But the good thing, I guess, is that I get to dance without being disrupted.”

Across the globe, activities like skateboarding or dancing in public spaces often blend into the daily rhythm of cities. Yet in Singapore, a nation defined by pragmatism and efficiency, such uses are meticulously regulated. Public transport networks, greenery, and well-kept pavements reflect this disciplined approach. The city’s transformation from a cluster of fishing villages to a gleaming metropolis underscores its commitment to structured urban planning, guided by long-term vision and state oversight.