Evolution of Singapore’s playgrounds – beyond Toa Payoh’s famous dragon

If you thought taking Instagram selfies at Toa Payoh’s mosaic dragon playground was a recent cool thing to do, sorry to burst your bubble: Your grandparents and parents beat you to it generations ago.

“In the 50s and 60s, going to playgrounds to take photos was already a big thing. And in the 30s, going to a playground was considered a day out, where they would hold picnics. You can even find pictures of people posing on swings,” said Rachel Eng, assistant manager (curatorial and programmes), at the National Museum of Singapore.

Singaporeans’ enduring relationship with their playgrounds is the subject of the museum’s latest exhibition, titled The More We Get Together: Singapore’s Playgrounds 1930 – 2030.

The show runs from Apr 20 to Sep 30, in collaboration with the Housing and Development Board.

Among the highlights: A 2.5m-high rope pyramid inspired by the original bigger version found at West Coast Park; original blueprints of the iconic mosaic playgrounds by designer Khor Ean Ghee, including the different dragon playgrounds; and an interactive artwork for toddlers at the museum’s rotunda by French artist Matali Crasset.

Visitors can also design their own playgrounds of the future at a digital installation by the Singapore University of Technology and Design – and the information gathered will be used to create an actual custom-built playground outside the museum in 2019.

The More We Get Together is the first exhibition to look at the evolution of Singapore’s playgrounds and how they have become important community spaces.

The exhibition is divided into different stages of playground history. While much of the attention has focused on the mosaic structures that began springing up in the 1970s, Singapore’s playgrounds actually date back all the way to the 1920s – one of earliest recorded ones was in 1928, at the site of today’s Cathay Green at Dhoby Ghaut.

“In the early days, Singapore was overcrowded so people started writing to newspapers to ask for open spaces. Leading businessmen then started to donate playground equipment to these spaces,” said Eng.

Chinese businessmen were responsible for the Dhoby Ghaut playground while David Elias, a prominent Jewish merchant, was responsible for the one at Katong Park in 1930. Later, the government began building playgrounds at the new Singapore Improvement Trust estates. “It was simple things like monkey bars, seesaws and swings,” said Eng.

By the time the 70s rolled in, there was an explosion of more unique playgrounds that emphasised local identities. The man behind it all was HDB’s in-house designer Khor Ean Ghee, who would eventually design around 30 playgrounds.

And it wasn’t all just mosaic designs – there were wire-framed ones and even playgrounds inspired by the sculptures of British sculptor Henry Moore (although these weren’t popular because people thought they were actual sculptures).

The mosaic playgrounds, however, were the ones that eventually became the most popular. Khor’s trademark big dragon at Toa Payoh Lorong 6 had a more metallic predecessor, which was built at the nearby Town Garden in 1975.

And while Khor’s designs are now instantly recognisable to Singaporeans, there were some identity issues back in the day. In the design blue print for the pelican playground, he called it a penguin. While the dove playground was referred to as a pigeon.

As for the famous dragon, Eng said: “I know that Khor Ean Ghee has said that his wife thought it looked like a dog rather than a dragon!”

While the mosaic playgrounds and its contemporaries were somewhat tied to building a Singapore identity, there was another issue to consider from the 1990s: Safety.

New standards for building playgrounds were set. Out went the sand, in came rubber flooring. Swings, too, weren’t considered safe and were scrapped. Ditto many of the old-school mosaic playgrounds.

At the same time, these standards saw the growth of a small industry of builders, who now supply all of the country’s various playgrounds.

Today, there are only a handful of Khor's playgrounds around, many of which have gained new life as spots on heritage trails (such as the watermelon and mangosteen ones in Tampines) or inspiration for popular nostalgia-driven merchandise.

One thing hasn’t changed though: Playgrounds continue to be gathering spots for people. “It has become part of our memory-scape,” said Eng.

(CNA)