Every day, individuals travel to different places, each carrying a different story.
On July 12, Singapore will close the final arc of its Circle Line, opening three stations that ask a quiet but consequential question: what does a city owe its people when it builds beneath their feet? Keppel, Prince Edward Road, and Cantonment stations emerge not merely as transit infrastructure but as curated encounters with the maritime, industrial, and railway histories that shaped the neighbourhoods above them. In completing the loop, Singapore gestures toward a vision of public space where function and memory are not in competition, but in conversation.
- A 17-year-old transit loop finally closes on July 12, completing a circle that has threaded through Singapore's urban core since 2009.
- Three stations—each sunk between 20 and 30 metres underground—risk becoming forgettable corridors, and their designers have responded with bronze wildlife sculptures, heat-coloured steel walls, and hand-sculpted forms enlarged into polished steel.
- Cultural Medallion recipient Han Sai Por, whose work anchors Cantonment station, frames the tension plainly: the MRT is not just transportation—it is a story, and every commuter is a character moving through it.
- One entrance at Cantonment remains sealed until 2028, when restoration of the historic Tanjong Pagar Railway Station completes and the old line and the new one can finally meet.
- A free public preview on July 4 invites commuters to walk through all three stations before the formal opening, offering the city a rare chance to encounter its own infrastructure as art before the daily rush claims it.
On July 12, Singapore will open three stations that complete the Circle Line—Keppel, Prince Edward Road, and Cantonment—each one designed to reflect the history and character of the neighbourhood it serves rather than simply move people through it.
At Keppel, 20 metres below the harbour, a miniature replica of the tunnel boring machine that carved out the extension anchors an exhibition space that is the first of its kind in any MRT station. Bronze sculptures of an Indian elephant and a black rhinoceros greet arrivals at street level, while an artwork by architect Kenneth Koh uses shipping containers to illustrate chapters of Keppel's industrial past. Skylights draw natural light to the platform, and 312 bicycle parking spaces mark another first for the line.
Prince Edward Road station, the deepest of the three at 30 metres, takes its cues from Singapore's maritime heritage: the passenger service centre is shaped like a wooden ship's hull, and cascading ceiling panels evoke waves in motion. Artist Gerald Leow heated stainless steel to varying temperatures to create a wall installation that shifts colour with the viewer's angle. One entrance connects directly to a mosque and a temple that have anchored the neighbourhood since the 19th and early 20th centuries.
Cantonment station sits beneath the footprint of the old Tanjong Pagar Railway Station, and its curved ceiling, 24 murals, and green accents are a deliberate homage to the structure above. Cultural Medallion recipient Han Sai Por hand-sculpted clay pieces, scanned them, and enlarged them into polished stainless steel forms that reflect commuters as they pass. One entrance will eventually link directly to the restored railway station, though that passage stays closed until 2028.
RDC Architects' managing director Rita Soh described the guiding philosophy as making infrastructure a mirror of place—not decoration added to function, but meaning built into the structure itself. A free public preview on July 4 will let commuters ride between all three stations before the formal opening, stepping into spaces that are already waiting to become part of the daily story Han Sai Por imagined.
On July 12, Singapore will complete its Circle Line with the opening of three stations that read less like transit hubs and more like galleries that happen to move people underground. The Keppel, Prince Edward Road, and Cantonment stations represent a deliberate shift in how the city thinks about public infrastructure—not as purely functional conduits, but as spaces that tell stories about the places they serve.
At Keppel station, which sits 20 metres below ground near the harbour, two bronze sculptures greet visitors at the entrance: an Indian elephant and a black rhinoceros, both endangered species, donated by the Keppel conglomerate. The station's most distinctive feature is its exhibition space on the concourse level, the first of its kind in an MRT station. Inside, a miniature replica of the tunnel boring machine that carved out the Circle Line extension sits beneath a full-scale sculptural interpretation of the machine's front section, which doubles as a lighting fixture. Opposite this sits an artwork by architect Kenneth Koh called Uncontainable Dreams, which uses shipping containers as a canvas to illustrate chapters of Keppel's industrial past. The station includes 312 bicycle parking spaces—another first for the line—and a green roof designed to cool the interior through vegetation. Two skylights on the platform bring natural light down into the depths, a small gesture toward connecting the underground world to the one above.
Prince Edward Road station, located in Shenton Way, takes its design cues from Singapore's maritime heritage. The passenger service centre is modelled after a wooden ship's hull, while cascading ceiling panels on the platform evoke the movement of waves. At 30 metres deep, it is the deepest of the three. An artwork titled Doppler, created by Gerald Leow, covers one wall of the concourse level. Leow heated stainless steel to different temperatures to create a shimmering effect that shifts colour depending on the viewer's angle—a technical feat that transforms a wall into something that seems to breathe. The station also includes a baby care room, acknowledging the practical needs of commuters with young children. One entrance serves the office and residential towers nearby; another connects directly to Haji Muhammad Salleh Mosque and Fook Tet Soo Khek Temple, religious institutions that have anchored the neighbourhood since the 19th and early 20th centuries respectively.
Cantonment station sits beneath the footprint of the old Tanjong Pagar Railway Station, and its design is a deliberate homage to that history. The platform features a curved ceiling and 24 murals that echo the aesthetic of the historic station above. Green accents throughout the space reference the railway station's distinctive green roof. An analogue clock at one end of the platform sits within two circles representing the Circle Line itself, with interchange stations marked out—a design that makes the abstract geography of the transit network suddenly visible and tangible. The concourse level holds The Journey Between, a work by Cultural Medallion recipient Han Sai Por. Han hand-sculpted clay pieces, scanned them, and enlarged them into polished stainless steel forms that reflect commuters as they pass. "I always thought the MRT is not just transportation," Han said. "It's also telling a story. Every day, individuals travel to different places, each one carrying a different story." One of Cantonment's four entrances will eventually connect directly to the old railway station, though that passage will remain closed until restoration work finishes in 2028.
Rita Soh, the managing director of RDC Architects, which designed all three stations, explained the philosophy underlying these spaces: each station should draw from its surroundings, reflecting the historical and cultural significance of its location. This is not decoration layered onto function. It is an attempt to make the infrastructure itself a mirror of the place it serves. The Circle Line, which opened in 2009, now forms a complete loop. These three final stations are designed to serve future developments in the Greater Southern Waterfront and to knit together existing communities and institutions that have long occupied these neighbourhoods.
On July 4, the public will have a chance to preview all three stations and ride free of charge between them from 9:30 in the morning until 9 at night. The formal opening comes eight days later. For now, the stations sit ready—art installations gleaming, green roofs planted, bicycle racks empty, waiting for the first commuters to arrive and become, as Han Sai Por imagined, part of the artwork themselves.
Citações Notáveis
I always thought the MRT is not just transportation. It's also telling a story. Every day, individuals travel to different places, each one carrying a different story.— Han Sai Por, artist, on her work at Cantonment station
Each station's design should draw inspiration from their respective areas, including their historical and cultural significance.— Rita Soh, managing director of RDC Architects
A Conversa do Hearth Outra perspectiva sobre a história
Why does an MRT station need art installations? Isn't the point just to move people efficiently?
That's the old way of thinking about it. These stations are saying: you spend time here, you move through this space every day, so why shouldn't it reflect something true about where you are? The art isn't decoration. It's the station telling you something about the neighbourhood's history or character.
But doesn't art slow people down? Don't commuters just rush through?
Some do, sure. But Han Sai Por's work at Cantonment—the polished steel sculptures—they catch you in your reflection as you pass. You can't help but notice. And the murals at Cantonment, the ship's hull at Prince Edward Road—these aren't demanding your attention. They're just there, part of the space. Over time, they become part of how you know the place.
The Keppel station has a tunnel boring machine as art. That seems oddly specific.
It is specific. That machine is what made these stations possible. By putting a replica in the station itself, they're saying: this infrastructure didn't appear by magic. Real work, real engineering, real people made this. It's honest in a way most transit systems aren't.
What about the practical stuff—the bicycle parking, the baby care rooms? That seems like the real innovation.
Those matter enormously. But they're not separate from the art. The whole approach is: we're designing for actual human beings with actual lives. You might bring your child, you might bike here, you might want to sit and think for a moment. The design acknowledges all of that.
The old Tanjong Pagar Railway Station won't connect until 2028. Why build the entrance now if it won't open for two years?
Because the station is already there, underground, waiting. The entrance is a promise—that this new infrastructure will eventually reconnect to the old one, that the city's history matters enough to preserve and integrate. It's saying: we're not erasing what came before. We're building on top of it.