There is always a silence before every great performance. It is a silence filled with anticipation, where the audience breathes in unison, waiting for the first note to break the stillness. On the evening of 11 October 2025, that silence filled the Grand Hall of Taylor’s University, where hundreds gathered to witness the Taylor’s Symphony Orchestra (TSO) perform its 17th Annual Concert, Frames of Wonder: Animated Symphonies.

Themed around the enchanting worlds of animation, the concert invited the audience to rediscover the soundtracks that shaped their imagination. Before the lights dimmed, each seat bore a small surprise: a postcard from Batik Malaysia, printed with heartfelt messages from TSO members. Some were simple greetings; others were notes of gratitude. A small but touching prelude to the human warmth behind the evening’s grandeur.

When the clock struck eight, the lights softened and concert master, Darius Low Cheng Zuo stepped onto the podium. With a gentle cue, he led the orchestra in tuning, ensuring every instrument aligned in perfect harmony. 

Only when all was still did the first conductor take the podium. Over the course of the evening, principal conductor, Sunny Chew Hwai Sun, and student conductor, Kok Jia Herng, would take turns leading the orchestra on a journey through sound and story. 

The concert opened with the timeless chase of Tom and Jerry. From the very first phrase, the hall erupted with laughter and delight. It was an introduction that instantly transported everyone back to childhood afternoons spent in front of a TV, where chaos and comedy always ended in harmony. The perfect curtain-raiser for a night of imagination.

From there, the mood deepened into Calling of the Guardian from Rise of the Guardians — a piece rich with cinematic intensity and mystery. The string section shimmered like northern lights, while the brass swelled with heroic purpose.

The fairytale charm of Shrek: Symphonic Fairytale followed, playful and bold, before giving way to Married Life from Up. That familiar melody, tender and bittersweet, filled the Grand Hall with emotion. Every note seemed to hang in the air a little longer than the last, as though the orchestra itself were breathing the same nostalgia as the audience.

Then came A Bug’s Life Suite, sprightly and full of motion, followed by the delightfully eerie The Nightmare Before Christmas. The orchestra leaned into the quirkiness of the movie, balancing whimsy and gothic flair. To close the first half of the night, The Lion King roared to life with majestic brass and thunderous percussion, its finale earning a wave of applause that echoed long after the last note.

As the lights rose, the audience exhaled in collective awe. Conversations fluttered through the Grand Hall as people stretched their legs, grabbed quick snacks, and shared first-half favorites. The air buzzed with warmth and chatter. Parents pointing out their children on stage, friends discussing moments that gave them chills.

It was the kind of intermission where the music still lingered, hovering faintly in everyone’s mind.

The second half opened in elegance. Barbie in the 12 Dancing Princesses brought the stage to life in hues of pink and gold, the orchestra dancing gracefully through its waltzes. The magic continued with The Dancing of the Sugar Plum Fairy and Waltz of the Flowers, two Tchaikovsky classics from Barbie in the Nutcracker that grounded the program in timeless orchestral tradition.

Then came Ratatouille, bursting with Parisian charm. The clarinets bubbled with energy while violins whisked through playful motifs. One could almost hear the sizzling of pans and the bustling of a kitchen. I Could Use a Boost from The Wild Robot followed with uplifting vigor, a piece newer to many ears but immediately beloved for its cinematic warmth and rhythmic momentum. 

Then the atmosphere shifted again as Oogway Ascends from Kung Fu Panda began. The hall quieted, and the orchestra played with extraordinary restraint. Every note felt like a breath, every phrase like a reflection. It was a moment of serenity that stilled even the most restless heart. Moments later, the solemn power of Bells of Notre Dame filled the hall, the full ensemble soaring in rich, gothic grandeur. 

And then came the grand finale: How to Train Your Dragon. It was everything one could hope for in an orchestral closing — heroic, emotional, and breathtakingly cinematic. The brass blazed, the percussion thundered, and the strings raced in a chorus of flight. By the final note, the audience had risen to their feet in applause, as if carried by the same wind that lifted Hiccup and Toothless across the screen.

The hall was electric. The applause refused to fade, and soon the orchestra returned — not once, but twice.

First came Toy Story, its cheerful melody from You’ve Got a Friend in Me filling the room with warmth and nostalgia. Smiles spread through the audience; a few even hummed along quietly. Then, in a burst of brass and jazzy rhythm, came the second encore: The Incredibles. Its syncopated swagger was irresistible, the kind of piece that made everyone want to move. By the time the final chord landed, it was past 11 p.m. Yet not a single person seemed ready to leave. The room glowed with applause, laughter, and gratitude.

As the lights brightened, the stage filled with laughter, embraces, and armfuls of flowers. TSO’s musicians, radiant with both relief and pride, reunited with their families and friends who had filled the hall to support them. Cameras flashed, bouquets exchanged hands, and the room glowed with joy and shared accomplishment.

Behind the evening’s beauty was the tireless dedication of chairperson, Shanee Lim Hsuen Nee and co-chairperson, Joshua Jeremiah Jebaretnam, who led months of coordination, rehearsals, and meticulous planning. Their leadership, alongside the passion of every musician, created not only a concert but an experience that lingered long after the final note.

Yet above all, Frames of Wonder: Animated Symphonies stood as a tribute to the members of Taylor’s Symphony Orchestra. Every violinist, flautist, percussionist, clarinetist, cellist, trumpeter, and more who gave their time, energy, and hearts to this performance. Each rehearsal, each late night spent perfecting a passage, each shared laugh during breaks contributed to something far greater than the sum of its parts. The orchestra’s unity was its greatest strength, its sound a living testament to teamwork and passion.

Their music filled the Grand Hall that night, but its echoes will remain long in the memories of every listener and in the pride of every performer who helped make that magic possible.

After the concert, the conversations carried into the night — snippets of awe and admiration echoing outside the hall.

“How to Train Your Dragon was phenomenal,” shared Beatrice, still glowing from the finale. “It really felt like flying.”

“The Incredibles was my favorite!” said Siti, who also praised the Barbie in the 12 Dancing Princesses segment for its beauty. “It was like seeing elegance meet energy.”

Others echoed the sentiment:

“I didn’t expect to get emotional over Up, but that performance caught me off guard.”

“The transitions between pieces were seamless. It felt like one long story.”

“You can really tell how much love the orchestra has for what they do.”

Each reaction, though different, shared a common note: wonder.

Frames of Wonder: Animated Symphonies was more than an annual concert, it was a celebration of how music gives life to stories, and how stories, in turn, give music its soul. In the hands of TSO’s musicians, childhood memories became melodies, and familiar scores transformed into living symphonies. Musicians and listeners alike, this night reminded everyone why we fall in love with music in the first place: because it moves, speaks, and stays.

And as the audience left the Grand Hall, postcards in hand, there was a shared sense that the night’s final notes hadn’t truly ended, they simply lingered, softly, like a heartbeat after wonder.

Follow their journey on Instagram: @t.symphonyorchestra. Believe me, you don’t want to miss their next performance.