SINGAPORE — Two years ago, artist Ho Tzu Nyen unleashed his ferocious and visceral heavy metal spectacle The Song Of The Brokenhearted Tiger. This time around, the eardrum-splitting roar of rage has been replaced by the steady — though no less menacing — purr of its comparatively sedate sequel Ten Thousand Tigers (TTT) under The Esplanade’s The Studios series.

Ho’s fascination with this great animal is well and truly justified, particularly in the context of the region where it once roamed and now continues to live on in myth and history. In (what was once) Malaya, tiger tales abound.

If his 2012 piece (done under the collective 3 Tigers) felt like a kind of homage to the extinct Malayan tiger, the scope expands here with Ho approaching the tiger as potent, timeless symbol for a whole bunch of things — which he organises as a sort of living museum showcase.

And it’s completely mesmerising, thanks to Ho and set designers Andy Lim and Jed Lim’s amazing, in-your-face, mega cabinet of curiosities of a set. Without moving from your seat, your imagination wanders as the pinpoint lighting lands on objects one by one: An old tape player, a phonograph, an aquarium, huge wayang kulit cut-outs, a pile of arms that moves ever so slightly, documentaries of tigers, a couple of statues — that, as the smoke clears, begin to speak to you in Japanese or Malay or Mandarin.

It’s actually performers Bani Haykal, Rizman Putra, Hiro Machida and Sim Pern Yiau, all of whom Ho calculatedly employs as immobile artefacts that are bursting to tell their stories.

Indeed, Ho seems to love telling stories. Or rather, he loves to show us how complex the act of storytelling is. And here is a rich tapestry of (narrated) narratives that weave into each other. Every single thread offers possibilities, even as stories can likewise be opaque. He hints at this in his use of a looped video of curtains opening up to more and more curtains (projected on actual curtains), which was also seen in last year’s solo show Pythagoras at Michael Janssen Gallery in Gillman Barracks.

The “tigers” in this show spring out from everywhere. You’ve got the so-called “Communist tigers” in the story of Lai Teck, the Malayan Communist Party (MCP) leader before Chin Peng, who assumed different names and reportedly often switched allegiances (a tiger may not change stripes but it sure can change its loyalties), and the anti-Japanese movement during World War II. The Japanese, too, are tigers on the hunt for the Communists in jungle warfare (and the notorious General Yamashita, after all, was nicknamed The Tiger Of Malaya). Singapore’s first architect, G D Coleman, also returns from Ho’s previous production, and his encounter and war with the Malayan tiger during the early years of colonial Singapore’s urbanisation.

But the strongest aspect has got to be the show’s supernatural elements. The idea of were-tigers have apparently been around since Zheng He dropped anchor in Malacca in the 1400s, and the fantastical forces its way into the show’s proceedings, peaking with the chilling scene of Bani and Rizman making guttural noises (while not moving from their spots the entire time, mind you). It’s an instance that reminded me of The Song Of The Brokenhearted Tiger, but instead of an expression of naked anger and anguish, it is all about transformation here.

Because, as the piece insists on one level, there’s a tiger inside us, and has been there throughout. Even as we embrace and acknowledge its symbolic power, the awe and fear-tinged respect we accord this magnificent animal is rooted in something material. The symbiotic relationship between the beast that roams in our forests and lurks in our minds should never be ignored.

Ten Thousand Tigers runs until April 19, 8pm, Esplanade Theatre Studio. With a 3pm Saturday matinee. Tickets at S$28 from Sistic. For more information on The Studios shows, visit http://www.thestudios.com.sg.