Living abroad involves a constant adaptation to the environment, requiring different ways to relate with it, striving to learn a language and, progressively, to assimilate the things one has left or lost on the road. Throughout this process one can reach some kind of truth or become disoriented.

The genesis of this project does not coincide with my arrival in Hong Kong in 2014, but with my move into the neighborhood of Mong Kok, three years later. At that time, my intention was to reconcile with a city from which I felt far away, unable to adapt to its fickle nature. I wasn’t yet aware that a large part of its essence is in the ephemeral, in what will eventually disappear, and that those who best capture that spirit are us – foreigners.

The photographer and her subjects take turns in projecting images of themselves onto each other, compressing their appearances and state of being at different points in time into one frame, and in turn bringing to light the unconscious stream of dialogue between them.

When I was small, I used to follow my parents around on my bicycle everyday, watching every sunset by the sea on Cheung Chau island, where I grew up. Those were some of my happiest memories, but as I took wings from my parents, they too faded away.

In 2017, my son was born. I started to look at things from a father’s point of view. I went back to where I grew up with my camera. What I saw was not just landscapes or places, but memories and stories of fatherhood, family and the land.

In an era where antagonism and calmness could coexist, traffic lights are both a faithful navigator and silent witness of a city’s history. In the course of 2019, the image creator walked through different areas of Hong Kong, capturing streetside fragments that occurred within the ‘3 seconds’ when the yellow light was on. Just as the function of the yellow lights, Hong Kong as a city is also undergoing a constant transition/tussle between GO (green) and STOP (red). This photo series serves as a side record of ordinary stories and significant moments that happened during the crucial year of 2019.

Many uniquely designed old residential buildings have disappeared, either through renovations or redevelopment over time. Like many residents there, they never returned; all that is left are only memories and images.

I went to these old neighbourhood to take photographs as a way of reminiscing about the good old days. Traces found in these dwellings from the 1960s are as though imprints of their stories and spirits. Along with the unique craftsmanship and serene atmosphere in the neighbourhoods, they compel me to recapture fond memories through photography.

How do the photographs of a hardcore-environmentalist-hiker reflect his ideas of Hong Kong in its current climate? Lo Kin Man documented his journey, which took him through Kowloon Peak in 2012, last image of it taken in 2018, across all 18 districts, up the foggy heights of Victoria Peak, then down to the depths of Mongkok. The resultant work, through the process of hiking and a prolonged documentation, in turn became an archive of visual records of the city. Perhaps these images can break new grounds for the reimagined Hong Kong communities.

Silent Photos, Howling Memories.

Having been a photojournalist since 1995, frequently travelling between Hong Kong, China and Macau, I have accumulated an archive of images in film and digital over the past 20 years. In time, my memory of these individual images fused with my subconscious into different amalgams. By re-presenting these memory amalgams in image form I try to comprehend the working of my deeper consciousness and so doing that I shall re-create new memories, which in turn form my new consciousness, and the new me…

‘Urban Disease’, according to the definition on Wikipedia, refers to the kind of disease that occurs when a country becomes more industrialised and humans have longer lives. This kind of disease includes mental illness, diabetes, heart disease, stroke, obesity, etc.

However, these are not the only diseases in our city. Living in Hong Kong and going out every day to see the world, you will soon realise that disease is everywhere.

It is not only people that are getting ill, but the whole city. However, seeing different things and thinking that they are ill, am I the one who is really ill?

After all, what are diseases?

Walls are partitions, and a form of protection.

Over time, cracks will begin to accumulate, like strands of memory; some can be easily noticed, some require closer observation, and some remain hidden under a new coat of paint. Like a middle-aged man who seldom speaks of himself, it will take time to notice hints of his inner thoughts. I try to reveal through these photographs my inner thoughts to invite viewers to contemplate on theirs.

This photo exhibition is inspired by Liu Yichang’s short novel The Turmoil, about the Hong Kong 1967 Leftist Riots.

The Turmoil describes objects from the 1967 riots. Through developing stories of different objects, the novel reflects the relationship between the people and objects in the city.

Living in Hong Kong during this turbulent time, we once again ask the emotionless objects to speak for themselves. Will the story of ‘objects’ be isolated from that of the ‘people’ and reveal another system of values?