Art is not just about visual expression; it is also about finding the right words to interpret and communicate ideas. Let’s hear from Year 11’s Anusha P, who presented her ideas on Rodin’s Burghers of Calais during the Articulation Prize 2026 competition at the National Gallery Singapore.

I moved to Singapore and joined Tanglin in 2018. Having lived in different countries, I've come to believe that where you're from matters less than what you carry with you, and I've been fortunate to carry lots of memories and great experiences.

Tanglin has given me something that’s harder to measure than grades—the confidence to share my ideas openly. Through Articulation, classroom discussions, and just being around people from very different backgrounds, I’ve learned that you grow the most when you’re willing to say what you think, even if you’re not completely sure yet. The school really creates space for that kind of openness, and I’m grateful for it.

I’ve always been drawn to communication, not just speaking, but how the right words can actually make people listen. The Romans treated rhetoric as something powerful; it was how they debated ideas and influenced decisions. That idea still exists today. You can hear it in the conviction of Lee Kuan Yew, the rhythm of Obama’s speeches, or the hope in Jawaharlal Nehru’s ‘Tryst with Destiny’ speech. What fascinates me is how words, when used well, can make a room go quiet or change how someone thinks. Articulation felt like the place where I could explore that myself, where ideas become voice, and that voice could reach people wanting to listen.

I chose Rodin's Burghers of Calais, a sculpture I first encountered standing quietly in the middle of Stanford's main quad, thousands of kilometres from the medieval French town where its story began. What struck me wasn't the heroism of six men who offered their lives to save a starving city, but the way Rodin refused to celebrate it. He sculpted fear, doubt, and reluctance—the unglamorous truth of sacrifice. I wanted my presentation to do the same: to show that the emotions Rodin cast in bronze - hesitation, responsibility, quiet resolve - don't belong to the 14th century alone. We see them today in the men who rise before dawn to build our skylines, in the street sweepers who let us boast of our city's cleanliness, in the people who step forward when no one applauds.

I think my entry stood out because I wasn't just analysing a sculpture; I was asking the audience to recognise, in Rodin's bronze figures, the same uncelebrated courage that surrounds us every day. In fact, I plan to go deeper into the question that first drew me to the sculpture: how does art collapse the distance between centuries, between strangers, between the person looking and the person cast in bronze?

During the finals, I decided to move beyond analysis and focus on experience. I wanted the audience to feel, not just understand, the weight those six men carried. Rodin himself insisted on placing his figures at ground level so viewers could walk among them rather than look up at them, and I wanted my presentation to achieve something similar; in other words, to remove the pedestal between speaker and audience. Although I didn’t win in the finals, I am proud of the work I put into refining the piece, particularly how I used pause, structure and imagery to create a sense of closeness with the audience. If I can make even one person leave the room seeing quiet sacrifice in a new way, I will consider it a success.