‘Flashpoint’ dives into the temperature of GE2025 political rallies—the noise, the heat, the restless undercurrent you can’t put into words. Each photographer is given full creative freedom to interpret the rallies in their own distinct style and capture the raw energy that slips past speeches and slogans.
Justin Tan is a 24-year-old intern at RICE who uses photography to make sense of lived experiences. For this piece, he captures the disorienting energy at a People’s Alliance for Reform rally held at NorthLight School.
RICE does not endorse any political party in Singapore. Refer to our GE2025 content coverage policy for details.
The booming voice of someone on stage continued to usher curious onlookers in as I entered the PAR rally at Northlight School.
The crowd was somewhat sparse, with scattered patches of attendees.
Some were standing at a reserved distance with their arms folded. Some were sitting alone. A few energetic supporters were up by the barricade right in front of the stage.
The atmosphere: noncommittal. Yet also quite curious about what the party and its candidates had to say.
I wanted to capture the strange urgency with which the election season arrived—suddenly, we were all summoned to this random field on a Saturday night to exercise our democratic rights.
There was a restlessness in the air, visible in how people moved through the rally grounds.
This election season has unfolded in sharp bursts of intensity—candidates trading quick jabs and presenting competing visions of a better Singapore.
In a way, the flash of my camera echoes that intensity, cutting through the crowd, asserting my presence. I wanted to use this visual jolt to respond to the surreal crescendo of politics that erupts every few years.
Because it wasn’t packed, most rally attendees naturally spread out across the field, filling up the space. Some kids roamed and played on the field while their parents listened to the rally.
I thought it was interesting that a school field—an everyday play space for school kids—was being used to discuss very adult topics like politics and voting.
My favourite shot is the one with children playing in the field while two adults—presumably their parents—stood nearby, watching a candidate speak from a distance.
Within that single frame, multiple conversations seemed to unfold at once: a hand outstretched between two children in the midst of play; their parents quietly debating the merits of opposing candidates; and, in the background, a PAR speaker making their case.
Time blurred as candidate after candidate from the PAR took turns at the podium to rally the crowd, explaining where the incumbent had faltered and where they could step in.
I took this unfocused shot towards the end of the rally, when I felt the most overwhelmed by the non-stop campaign speeches.
Lim Tean, the PAR chief, was last to speak. When he finished, the rally ended without much fanfare. Most of the crowd quietly turned to leave, while a small group of supporters made their way to the front to greet the candidates.
As I watched people quietly shuffling out of the field, I wondered if PAR actually convinced anyone to shift their views, or shape how they’ll vote.
Compared to the crowds and energy at other rallies—whether from the incumbent or the opposition—this one felt notably sparse. Still, the fact that a decent number of people turned up suggests that Singaporeans are beginning to value having more political choices.
