這真是個「藝術即生活」的時代。 走入商場，你看見櫥窗裡賣的靚衫、靚 錶、靚手袋、閃令令引人注目，海報上 寫上一句話：Live is Art。去到餐廳，你 看到精緻可愛的 cupcake、咖啡、刀叉 桌椅。餐牌上寫道：The Art of Living。 藝術展銷會門票附送酒店晚餐優惠券， 鼓勵觀眾逛完畫展去食飯，只因為， 「藝術，源於生活」…… 今日，你再講，「藝術即生活」？大家 都一早知道啦。 問題是，當我們說「藝術即生活」，怎 樣「即」法？除了那些貼上藝術標籤的 商品，可以賣多幾倍價錢促進消費外， 藝術與生活，到底是甚麼關係？如果 「藝術即生活」，那為何那麼多活生生 的人說，藝術與他無關？又，如果「藝 術即生活」，那為甚麼，藝術愛好者總 是只識得藝術家的作品，而不知道，他 們是怎樣生活的？
This is the era of “Art is life”. In the windows of a shopping mall, you see fancy clothes, watches, hand bags, all looking sparkling next to slogans saying, “Life is Art”. In a restaurant, you find delicate cupcakes, coffee, cutleries laid out on a table with a menu which reads “The Art of Living”. You also get a complementary hotel-dining coupon attached to an art fair ticket, encouraging the audience to have a meal after visiting the fair, all simply because “Art comes from life”… And now, there is no way to say, “Art is life” without stating the obvious. The thing is: when we say “Art is life”, how does art ‘become’ life? Apart from products which get labelled as art to attract consumption and generate profit, what is the true relationship between art and life?
今次，在「藝術生活日誌」裡面，我們 有楊秀卓、黃振欽、梁以瑚（二胡婆 婆）、黎慧儀、劉學成及創藝同行（阮 美寶、翁志健），舉辦開放創作室，親 身體驗生活為本的創作；吳家俊、鍾惠 恩製作一個度身製作的「藝術組合 櫃」，歡迎大家睇吓又坐吓；最搞笑的 是 ， 程 展 緯 、 黃 宇 軒 、C&G藝 術 單 位 （張嘉莉、鄭怡敏），會充當接線生角 色，與大家作藝術對話。 我們也同時找來曾翠薇、何兆基、黃麗 貞、石家豪、劉掬色和林東鵬，透過影 像與文字，紀錄他們生活點滴。藝術， 我們談得不多，聊的卻是上班的道路、 收藏的舊物、買玩具的時間、逛街市的 喜悅……馮美華亦會在現場，與他們一 起講故仔。 這些，才是真正的「藝術即生活」吧！
文／藝術生活日誌編輯室
If “Art is life”, how come in the eyes of many, art has nothing to do with them? Also, if “Art is life”, how come while art-lovers know how to appreciate an artwork, but have little knowledge about the lives of artists? On the occasion of Live Art Daily, YEUNG Sau-churk Ricky, WONG Chun-yam Leo, Evelyna LIANG, LAI Wai-yi Monti, LAU Hok-shing Hanison, and artwalker (Meipo YUEN, YUNG Chi-kin) will teach “Hobby Classes” for the audience to experience their lively creation, while NG Ka-chun and CHUNG Wai-ian will present a specially designed Living Art Cabinet, welcoming the audience to take a look and have a rest. Also, amusingly CHING Chin-wai Luke, WONG Yu-hin Sampson and C&G Artpartment (Clara CHEUNG and CHENG Yee-man Gum) will receive phone-calls from the public and converse about art.
12.12.2015 (Sat)
上街去 On the road 游走於城市空間 Meandering through urban space
20.2.2016 (Sat)
返屋企 Back at home 家家都有藝術事 Dwelling in domesticity
12.3.2016 (Sat)
藝術生活 Live in Art 創作生活習慣 When art becomes habits
Meanwhile, we will also revisit the work of TSANG Chui-mei, HO Siu-kee, Fiona WONG, Wilson SHIEH, Gukzik LAU and LAM Tung-pang by documenting their lives through moving images and text. When you watch TV, read newspapers and join artists’ sharing at Live Art Daily, you will find that we haven’t covered much about art for art’s sake; some talked about their paths to go to work, others shared how they spent time collecting old objects and toys, or how much they enjoyed shopping at wet markets…May FUNG will also be there to host the sharing. And all these above, are what we call “Art is life”!
Live Art Daily Editorial Team
平易近人的藝術家分享 Down-to-earth sharings
與香港當代藝術家和公眾朋友 一起尋找生活中的創作起點
講故仔 Telling Tales
Where art begins For artists and everyone
12.12.2015
煲電話 Telephone
Artists: Fiona WONG, TSANG Chui-mei Moderator: May FUNG
讀報紙
1:00 PM
Newspaper
睇電視 TV
7-21.12.2015 | 24小時開放 24-hour
藝術家分享生活細碎，捕捉生活感知與日常創意 Musings on the everyday
香港紀念碑遊蹤 Hong Kong Monuments Tours 聽完當天介紹 在“嗶”一聲之後，留下口訊， 說說你想紀念甚麼？
藝術家：黃麗貞、曾翠薇 Artists: Fiona WONG, TSANG Chui-mei
Listen to our choice of the day and leave a message about what you wish to commemorate after the beep
6:00 PM 傾心事
上街去 On the road
Private Conversations
香港藝術館“無牆唱談”展覽加料節目 A Fringe Programme for “Wall-less Chit-ChaNt” Exhibition, Hong Kong Museum of Art
天南地北，真情對話 Heart-to-heart dialogues 藝術家：石家豪 | Artist: Wilson SHIEH 2:00 PM - 6:00 PM
游走於城市空間 Meandering through urban space
攤抖吓 Living Room
興趣班 Hobby Classes
9121 0720 接線生 Operator：程展緯 CHING Chin-wai, Luke 語言：粵語 | Language: Cantonese
4:00 PM - 6:00 PM
梳士巴利花園藝術廣場
Art Square, Salisbury Garden
藝術家：黃麗貞、曾翠薇 主持：馮美華
撥個熱線電話，來個“藝術”對話 Hotline for artistic inquiry
開放創作室，親身體驗生活為本的創作 Learn art beyond the studio
度身製作的“藝術組合櫃”，歡迎大家睇吓又坐吓 A made-to-order Living Art Cabinet 師傳：鍾惠恩、吳家俊 Makers: CHUNG Wai-ian, NG Ka-chun
彩色格仔地平線 Colourful Grid 藝術家：楊秀卓 | Artist : YEUNG Sau-churk, Ricky 1:00 PM - 3:00 PM 重建你的博物館 Rebuild Your Own Museum 藝術家：黃振欽 | Artist : WONG Chun-yam 3:45 PM - 5:45 PM
曾翠薇： 虛實之間， 從柴灣到中環
有整整 12 年時間，曾翠薇每日都會從她 位於柴灣的家出發，到中環的畫室教小朋 友畫畫。 每次她都要經歷一段從自在到寒酸的心理 交戰。「一到這些高級地方就會這樣，感 覺我是被安插在這個空間之中。」 「柴灣草根一點，相對自在舒服。」 她說。
文 / 谷倩華 實在的是記憶。她的成長經歷可能是很多 同齡人的寫照。曾翠薇出生於 70 年代， 五歲前一家四口在筲箕灣租了個小單位居 住。曾媽媽聽說，柴灣有間木屋出售。如 果買了搬進去，幾年後政府可能會收地， 到時候他們就可以獲派上樓住公屋。於是 她陪媽媽賣了金器湊了錢，舉家搬入柴 灣。「之後都一直住在這裡，無走過。」 她說。
1
當然「上樓」不會那麼順利。在那之前， 曾翠薇一家還在臨時房屋住過五年。當時 臨屋區位置，正是今日樓價走勢十大指標 屋苑之一杏花村。臨屋區面積極大，分不 同顏色區域，經過一片爛地（現時的柴灣 公園）後就是工業區。曾翠薇記得，媽媽 會去工廠拿些手作回家做。她跟弟弟二人 則會在爛地前的一個涼亭，邊吃雪條邊 等她。 很多人說，藝術觸覺與認知，來自遺傳與 生活環境。曾翠薇明言，父母一直生活都 是為了「搵食」，根本沒時間對精神滿足 與藝術有甚麼追求。但她會開始接觸繪 畫，的確是因為父親。
2
「以前爸爸在灣仔的印刷廠做切紙，不時 會帶些紙頭紙尾回家。我小時候社交能力 不太好，覺得悶就自己一個畫畫，最鍾意 畫人。」她如此憶述。「由那時開始覺得 自己喜歡繪畫。」 她在嘉諾撒修院小學的學生時代，就在學 習、畫畫，以及賣牛奶樽啤酒樽賺外快中 渡過。曾翠薇笑指，不知為何自己小六成 績這樣好，竟獲派名校庇理羅士女子 中學。
1
曾翠薇在前往中環的途上 TSANG Chui-mei on her way to Central
2 《石頭記》（局部），2003，塑膠彩板本， 香港藝術館藏品 Tale of Stones (details), 2003, acrylic on board, collection of the Hong Kong Museum of Art
只是，學校環境轉折太大，反而令她感到 格格不入。那是譚詠麟與張國榮正在樂壇 熱鬥的年代，曾翠薇的同學十有八九會買 飛睇演唱會，支持偶像。只有她沒閒錢買 票入場。她的同學，會學樂器、學跳舞、 參加合唱團。「我全部都無，中學生活 好頹。」她卻道。 那曾翠薇幹甚麼呢？比如說暑假，她幫媽
中三之後，學校不設美術科。老師選了十 多個同學，提議他們自修，報讀會考 課程。 「同學互相做 model 練習畫人像。」她 說。「其實當年中學藝術教育好皮毛，連 塑膠彩都好少接觸，我對物料跟畫家都認 識不多，應該只識梵高。」 結果她會考美術拿了個 D。整體成績亦不 理想，曾翠薇無法升讀原校預科，只得轉 校重讀中五。翌年正是 1990。會考的「想 像及記憶畫」題目是「遊行」。這題目和 當時政治氣氛的關係，是顯而易見的。曾 翠薇選定這個題目，盡情發揮，成績由 D 連跳三級至 A。 優秀成績為她奪得香港中文大學藝術系的 conditional offer，只要高考全 E，就能入 學。兩年後，曾翠薇得償所願。 不過還要過父母那關。「他們認為藝術家 好窮，工作就是畫戲院外的大海報！」問 題是一家人早有共識，曾翠薇畢業後要負 責買樓，改善生活環境。「所以我跟他們 說，畢業後可以教書，收入不俗又穩 定。」而曾翠薇也沒食言，畢業後她確實 教了三年中學。 儘管藝術於曾翠薇而言曾經是一種虛榮 心，但到了中大藝術系，她的想法開始轉 變。「入了這個圈就明白虛榮心不足以支 撐你去創作，後來我領悟到畫與人生兩者 的底藴或許就是『空』，這個觀念一直刺 激著我繼續畫畫。」藝術成為她生命的憑 藉、精神的依歸。有時候，她畫一幅畫， 只為突破前一幅畫作。「好唯心的。」她 笑道。 從大地上一個小人偶（或人造物，例如椅 子）面對廣闊空間，到講中西融合，再到 造形與質地的鑽研，她的創作至今仍在不 斷演變。一天，曾翠薇帶我看她新畫的兩 幅壁畫。偌大的牆上，草綠底色上面畫了
識說自己是在搞藝術，但卻不經意地做成 了作品。」
自然不止於 花草樹木
「其實我不很熟悉這裡的。」她對我說。 卻隨即又小聲道：「這個婆婆好得意，總 是坐在這裡的。」又指向一家餅店。「這 裡芒果糯米糍特別好吃！」
不經意，才是她眼中更廣義的自然。或者 說，狹義上花草樹木的自然之所以吸引 她，只因為花草樹木的生長是一種不經意 的形態。
文 / 楊天帥
「妳不是說自己不熟嘛……」我無奈說。
「我感興趣的是事物的形態……然後是， 怎樣把這形態呈現出來。」那時候我們在 嘉咸街旁一個小公園裡。她敲了下身邊的 桌子。「例如這張檯，你看，它是斜的。 你很容易知道，製作者為何要把它造成這 樣：他會說，因為我是『設計師』，所以 我要把事情推得歪歪斜斜。這是一種挺常 見的設計意識。」
她愉快地笑了。「即係唔識啲人，無 搭嗲！」
1
黃麗貞的工作室就在附近，因此嘉咸街街 市，其實是她不時會路經的地方。她喜歡 這裡的生活氣息。景隨步轉，她話不停。 「這裡多外國客，店東的貨品也會放得漂 亮些。」「好多鬼佬沙律菜賣，但也有幾 檔賣豆腐。」「有泰國舖，也有九龍醬 園！」她忽又想起那由街頭伸延至街尾， 毫不起眼的百年石渠，連忙拉我去看。 「好得意，你看它的設計是平的，不是我 們常見的 U 字型。」翻查資料，原來 1930 年以前，香港的渠道多是平渠，以免汽車 車輪卡在其中。 對我來說，嘉咸街街市的話題是掌故、是 人文、是歷史、是民俗或設計；偏偏黃麗 貞卻用上另一個難解的詞語去形容它：自 然。 自然，不是山水花鳥嗎？
2
黃麗貞在嘉咸街街市 Fiona WONG at the Graham Street Market
2
曾翠薇坦白說，中學時愛畫畫，原因之一 是虛榮心。「畫畫讓我在學校找到自己的 位置同價值，而且那時覺得藝術是 high class 的象徵。」當時她認為繪畫讓她得以 脫離現實，走入更高社會階層。
我們從荷李活道，沿嘉咸街往地鐵站踱步 而去。一路上除街市叫賣聲外，更響亮的 還有工地打樁聲。「呼──噹──呼── 噹──」像疲憊的人吸長呼短的氣息。
黃麗貞：
1
媽做工廠手作。法例規定 15 歲方可入工 廠工作，她跟弟弟及一眾未夠年齡的小朋 友，便會偷偷在工廠後樓梯，幫手加工。 工作各種各樣，有時是「貼貼紙」，例如 在飛機模型上貼航空公司標誌；有時是 「打碎口」，即是將未砌好的模型玩具配 件自膠框拆出來。
《寄居者》（局部），1994，陶泥氧化物及 發熱線，香港藝術館藏品 Life Tenant (details), 1994, clay oxides and wire, collection of the Hong Kong Museum of Art
中大藝術碩士畢業，現任教於香港藝術學 院的黃麗貞，創作常讓人聯想到「自然」 二字。比如說去年年中，她在「光影作 坊」的個展《如山》，展出的雕塑與器物 作品，就以香港山巒為題。當然山巒是自 然的，不過對黃麗貞來說，同樣「自然」 的，卻是地政總署的空中攝影照片。構思 《如山》這個展覽的時候，她在圖書館偶 爾發現這些圖片，驚覺它們比山水畫更吸 引。 「山水畫內事物的形象，與我的生活經驗 總是有種距離，不易引發情感連繫。」她 說。有時候，較之於藝術創作，科學紀錄 更讓她著迷。「一看那些空中拍攝的圖 片，嘩！其實香港真係好靚。」 較之於苦心孤詣的高雅藝術，黃麗貞往往 更留戀不經意的生活痕跡。談書法，她沒 有講古今大師的芳名，卻興致勃勃地講她 一個中醫朋友所寫的藥方。「許多藥方其 實都是好書法。」她說。「寫的人沒有意
「那種美，就在這裡。」
「但自然界不是這樣的。在大自然裡，萬 物之所以如此，都有其原因和功能。走在 自然，彷彿每件事物都在告訴我，它們必 然有某種起源。這一點常常給我很大感 受。」 「如果你問我，我的創作是否跟大自然有 關？我會說，大自然就是人。大自然不光 指山、草、昆蟲。如果大自然沒有人，甚 麼都感知不到。」 街市是人間生活的舞台。走到一家鮮魚檔 的時候，黃麗貞駐足少頃，看魚販宰魚。 「我好鐘意劏魚！」她竟道。這詭異的興 趣嚇了我一跳。她說她愛看魚販動作的利 落。其所用的刀法，下刀的落點，都有智 慧，都是千錘百鍊的生活成果。 都是自然。「藝術角度會稱之為『塑造方 法』，很複雜。其實說到底就是『整 嘢』，是生活方法。」她說。「我覺得最 好睇就是魚販沒刻意做甚麼。這是最美 的。」 「可是妳不覺得恐怖嗎……」我問。黃麗 貞聞言即答：「我唔驚！」於是她說起自 己小時候看阿婆宰魚，會覺得那是一件有 趣的事，連自己也劏埋一份。「你會見到 魚口入面還有魚勾，又會見到魚子……我 又唔覺得恐怖喎，自然係咁㗎啦。」她喜 歡看魚鱗的舖排、魚骨的結構。「這裡面 有一種秩序，而這秩序的目的，其實是為 了讓牠生存得更好。」 「我覺得人們之所以恐懼，是因為他們對 大自然陌生。」 兒時的黃麗貞，家中養過許多動物。貓、
幾座彷彿由翠玉與金線構成的小石山，若 隱若現。曾翠薇說，這畫靈感來自油麻地 玉器市場。另一邊則以紅色為主，以簡單 隨意的筆觸繪成一棵大紅花，旁邊卻用剛 直線條畫上一個小舞台及窗戶作點綴，呼 應已變成粵劇表演場地的油麻地戲院。這 兩幅壁畫已是曾翠薇近年比較具體的畫 作。近年她傾向以抽象形式繪畫。較之於 寫實，更著重視覺元素。 有人看完曾翠薇早年以小人偶面對廣闊空 間為主題的作品後，有感她在探索空間中 自我的位置，其實對她而言卻完全相反。 曾翠薇說，「我」根本不存在， 「我在 創作中意會到一種虛空意識，我在空白畫 布上添加的東西，不論空間的感覺以及描 繪的形象等等，皆屬幻象，本質上是 『無』，也對應著無常的人生。」 聽上去這說法頗有宗教意味。她也確實在 宗教尋找過。「我去過團契，又返過佛 堂。我喜歡佛教的思想，但一要念經我卻 覺得不安難耐，現在處於放棄狀態。」 唯一一直沒有放棄的，就是畫畫。她畢業 於流行裝置藝術的年代，同學多受潮流影 響，唯獨曾翠薇仍堅持繪畫，至今。 1998年，曾翠薇在《香港藝術雙年展》拿 下藝術獎，之後在藝穗會舉辦了第一次個 人展覽，名氣一度急升。那一刻的她，曾 經猶豫自己該怎樣走下去。「那時不停思 考，終於知道自己想做甚麼，就是畫 畫。」她說。「這是我精神上的滿足，就 算要教書，就算沒機會，我自己的時間就 要做自己喜歡的事。」 有感於中學教師工作太困身，曾翠薇決定 辭職，轉到中環教小朋友畫畫，以便有更 多時間創作。她的工作室從旺角搬到火 炭，又從火炭搬到石硤尾，來來回回，最 終還是回到她的家，那個穿越香港繁華地 段的地鐵藍色線尾站。 幾年前，她供完樓一身輕，乾脆辭了職轉 做自由身，接 job、搞展覽。創作是她的 慾望，也是她的生計。 「面對空白的畫布時我最有感覺，」她 說。「我會抖擻精神，因為接下來要解決 很多經營畫面的問題，那時一切都有最多 可能性，我會有迎向未知結果的慾望。」 曾翠薇認為創作的過程，亦對應著她面對 將來的狀態。 虛幻是作品，但那種滿足與憑藉，是 實在。
狗、魚、龜 、白鴿……黃媽媽好動，不 論四季，均喜帶孩子出遊。「夏天呢，不 是游水，就是釣魚；不然就是游水和釣 魚。」她說得高興。如果釣到魚，媽媽就 會帶回家煲湯。冬天有時跟媽媽去寺廟拜 祭，黃麗貞就會帶上羽毛球拍、暖水壺和 食物，只因入廟拜神前會經過一幅草地， 一家人就順道在那裡打波、野餐。 「其實那時候大家都習慣去郊外。」她 說。「星期六日不用上班，在家又無事可 做。」 當然今時唔同往日。 「現在，人人拿著手機，還有誰會出 去？」 黃麗貞今年才開始用智能手機，但她自言 自己不是反科技，只是很平實地看需要。 有需要就用，無需要就唔用。她不想跟隨 科技的一日千里、手機型號的日新月異、 時代巨輪的急速運轉，奔走。 嘉咸街街市正在清拆，嶄新的高樓大廈不 日建成。黃麗貞邊走邊數，這裡有家店以 前常來吃飯，那裡有家舖曾經常幫襯。她 指向的地方如今只剩一塊圍板。 在香港，叫賣的魚販菜販愈來愈少，超級 市場則更多變成超級廣場。黃麗貞果然還 是喜歡嘉咸街街市這種老地方。「我知道 最後都係會無晒，無可奈何啦。」我問 她，去街市買餸是生活，去超級廣場買餸 也是生活，兩者都是自然，為何不可兩者 都喜歡？她說街市是民間智慧的結晶。今 日要放蔬菜，就鋪一塊發泡膠，明天要吊 塊肉，就刮個坑。超市呢，貨架都是一早 砌好的，只等貨物來填。沒趣。 「現在成個社會都是這樣啦，結構早已 有，只等你來配合。」她教藝術時，經常 會聽到學生說，創作一定要有社會議題。 「我覺得很奇怪。我問他們，這想法是哪 裡聽來的？為甚麼一定要有？」對這些學 生來說，藝術只是一種工具，創作只為表 達想法。黃麗貞搖頭。她覺得這理解是錯 誤的。較之於議題，她更著重手中的物 料，物料的自然。 「我會考慮如何讓物料參與創作，而不是 以它作手段，去說你想說的東西。」像宰 魚。先有魚，才有刀法。「自然，會教你 如何開放自己。」她說。
For a total of twelve years, TSANG Chui-mei had to go from her home in Chai Wan to a drawing studio in Central everyday for children art classes.
TSANG Chui-mei:
Everytime, she had to experience an emotional journey from feeling comfortable to feeling poor. “Whenever I go to posh places, I’d feel that I am displaced,” she says.
Between Emptiness and Contentment: From Chai Wan to Central
“Chai Wan was more grass root, so I felt relatively more comfortable there.”
Original text in Chinese: Iris KU Translation: Enoch CHENG
Her memory there is still vivid. Her childhood mirrors a lot of her contemporaries. Born in the 1970s, before the age of five, Chui-mei spent her life with her other four family members in a small rented home in Shau Kei Wan. One day, her mother heard that there was a squatter hut for sale in Chai Wan, and whoever moved in might have a chance to be compensated with a public flat, should the government acquire the land a few years later. So her mother sold her jewelleries to get the whole family to move to Chai Wan. “Since then, we have been staying in the area,” Chui-mei says. Of course, settling in a public flat was not easy. Before that, Chui-mei’s family lived in a squatter hut for five years. That area, Heng Fa Chuen, where she used to live, is now one of the 10 trend-indicators of property prices in Hong Kong. The temporary housing area back then was huge, divided by colour zones. Beyond unused land (now the Chai Wan Park), nearby was the industrial district. Chui-mei remembers that when her mother went to collect handiworks to take home from the factories, she and her bother would wait at a Chinese pavilion in front of the unused land, eating ice-lollipops.
1
It’s been said that one’s sensitivities and sensibilities about art come from one’s genes and living environment. Chui-mei says that her parents’ only purpose of life was to feed the family, so there was no time for any spiritual or artistic pursuit. Yet, it was her father who sparked her interest in art.
2
“My father used to work in a printing studio, where he was responsible for cutting paper. He often brought home leftover papers. I wasn’t very sociable when I was young, so I started drawing. I loved drawing people most,” TSANG recalls. “Since then, I knew I liked drawing”. In her primary school years at Canossa College, all she did was studying, drawing, and getting extra pennies by selling empty bottles for recycling. With a laugh, Chui-mei notes that she doesn’t know why her school results were so good that she finally got into the prestigious Belilios Public School.
3
1
However, the shift of school environment was so drastic that she felt she didn’t fit in. It was a time when Cantonese pop stars Alan TAM and Leslie CHEUNG were competing with each other in the music industry. Many of Chui-mei’s schoolmates would buy concert tickets to support their idols, but Chui-mei hardly had any extra money. Her schoolmates could play musical instruments or take dancing classes; they participated in the choir. “But I did none of those. My secondary school life was dull,” she says.
曾翠薇在前往中環的途上 TSANG Chui-mei on her way to Central
2 《景 ． 綜 合 版 （ 一 ）》（ 局 部），2003， 塑膠彩布本，香港藝術館藏品 Scene．Integrated Version (1) (details), 2003, acrylic on canvas, collection of the Hong Kong Museum of Art
How did Chui-mei spend her spare time? She sometimes helped her mother with handiwork from the factories during summer breaks. Although the legal age for
3 《景 ． 綜 合 版 （ 二 ）》（ 局 部），2003， 塑膠彩布本，香港藝術館藏品 Scene．Integrated Version (2) (details), 2003, acrylic on canvas, collection of the Hong Kong Museum of Art
We start from Hollywood Road, strolling along Graham Street to the metro station. Apart from the cries of the sellers in the Graham Street Market, what is even louder is the hammering sound of the pile drivers. “Huh, bang, huh, bang”, like the catching breath of an exhausted person.
Fiona WONG: Nature, Beyond Flower and Birds
“Actually, I’m not familiar with this place,” Fiona WONG says to me, but quickly adds softly, “this old woman’s funny. She always sits here.” Then, she points to a bakery, “Their mango glutinous rice dumpling is especially tasty.”
Original text in Chinese: YEUNG Tin-shui Translation: Enoch CHENG
“Didn’t you just say you aren’t familiar with this place?” I quietly protest. She smiles, “I mean I don’t know the people in person. I don’t get to chit-chat with them.” Fiona’s studio is close by, which means Graham Street Market is actually a path she often travels. She likes the livelihood here. We turn as she talks, “There are many expat customers, so the shops are more fancy with their display.” “Many Westerners buy salad vegetables here. There are also a few shops selling tofu.” “Also, Thai shops, as well as the Kowloon Soy Company.” She suddenly remembers the stone drainage nearby, which leads from the beginning till the end of the street, and so she takes me there right away. “Look, how interesting! The design of the bottom is flat, unlike the U-shape that we are used to seeing.” I later check: Before the 1930s, most drainages were flat-bottomed, so that car-wheels would not get stuck in them.
1
For me, the Graham Street Market is related to historical tales, the humanities, history, cultures, or design. Yet, Fiona uses a perplexing term to describe the market: nature. Nature, as in mountains, water, flowers and birds?
2
Graduated with a master’s degree from the Fine Arts Department at The Chinese University of Hong Kong, and now teaching at the Hong Kong Art School, Fiona’s work often makes viewers think of the term ‘nature’. For instance, in her exhibition “Emerging Mountains” at Lumenvisum in the middle of last year, her sculptures and objects were named after Hong Kong’s mountains. Of course, mountains are natural, but what is also ‘natural’ to her is the aerial photography from the Lands Department. She accidentally found those photographs from the library while she was conceptualising the exhibition. She was astonished by how they looked even more alluring than Chinese landscape painting.
1
“There’s a distance between my experience in life and the impression from landscape paintings; it’s not easy to associate with them,” she says. Sometimes, scientific documentations may seem more appealing to her than pure art creation. “When I saw those aerial pictures, I went ‘Wow, Hong Kong is so beautiful!’”
黃麗貞在嘉咸街街市 Fiona WONG at the Graham Street Market
2
《瓷衣》（局部），2000，瓷器及銀線，香港 藝術館藏品 Porcelain Blouse (details), 2000, porcelain and silver strands, collection of the Hong Kong Museum of Art
Instead of marvelling at the sophisticated
加料節目策劃小隊 Fringe Programme Curatorial Team
藝術家短片拍攝及製作 Artist Video Production
Stephanie CHEUNG Helen FAN YIP Kai-chun TSIM Hui-laam, Liv CHAN Yi-kwan, Sardonna
《立場新聞》The Stand News
張慧婷 樊樂怡 葉啟俊 詹昫嵐 陳怡君
研究團隊 Research Team 楊天帥及《立場新聞》藝評班 YEUNG Tin-shui and The Stand News art criticism class
報紙設計 Newspaper Design 鍾惠恩 CHUNG Wai-ian
鳴謝 Acknowledgement
working in a factory was 15 or above, Chui-mei and her brother, as well as many under-aged kids, would hide and work by the staircase at the factory’s back door. Work varied from sticking flight companies’ logos onto aircraft models to removing pieces of model toys from their plastic frames. Chui-mei is frank when she says that one of the reasons that she liked drawing and painting in secondary school was vanity. “Drawing and painting allowed me to find my place and value in school. We thought art represented something high-class.” She thought that painting would allow her to climb up the social ladder from her reality. After Form Three, art was no longer a school subject. Her teacher selected 10 students and suggested them to do their private studies to enter the public exam. “Among our classmates, we modeled for one another to practice figure drawings,” she says. “What we learned from our art education in secondary school was very superficial. To us, even acrylics were a rarity. I knew very little about materials or artists, except only for Van Gogh”. At last, she got a ‘D’ for art in the public exam. The rest of her results were unsatisfactory and she could not continue her A-level studies in the same school. She had to transfer to another school to repeat Form Five. The following year was 1990. That year, the exam topic for the ‘Imagination and Memory’ session was ‘a protest march’. The connection between the topic and the political climate at the time was obvious. Chui-mei performed all she could and finally leaped from grade ‘D’ to ‘A’. Her excellent result brought her a conditional offer from the Fine Arts department at the Chinese University of Hong Kong (CUHK): she could enrol the school as long as all her A-Level results covered ‘E’ grade or above. Two years later, Chui-mei got what she had wished for. Nonetheless, there were still her parents to go through. “They thought artists lived poorly and their work was only to paint the huge posters outside cinemas.” Another obstacle was that there was a consensus within the family that Chui-mei would help buy a flat to improve the family’s living conditions. “So I told my parents that I could teach upon graduation, and the income would be good and stable.” Chui-mei kept her words and taught in a secondary school for three years. Art to Tsang was once vanity, but she began to change her mind in the Fine Arts Department at CUHK. “When I am in the field, I understand that vanity cannot keep you going. I realized later that the essence of both painting and life is perhaps a sense of emptiness. This understanding has always inspired me to continue painting.” Art has now become what she clings onto in life, a spiritual home. Sometimes when she wants to paint, it is all because she wants to break through from a previous work. “All very simple to my heart,” she smiles. When we observe Chui-mei’s oeuvre, from paintings of small figures (or man-made objects, such as chairs) facing a vast space, to the meeting between the East and West, and exploration of form and texture, her art is constantly evolving. Sometime ago, Chui-mei took me to see her two new mural
craftsmanship of the fine arts, Fiona is more inclined to subtleties in life. When talking about calligraphy, she names no particular masters, but eagerly mentions a medical prescription that her Chinese doctor friend has written. “Many hand-written prescriptions are good calligraphy,” she says. “The writer doesn’t intentionally call it art, but the art work is there.” “Beauty, is right there.” Being unintentional is what she sees as natural in its general definition. In the same thread, in the instance of plants, what appeals to Fiona is precisely their unintentional natural forms. “What interests me is the form of things… and then, it is about how to represent the form.” When she says this, we are in a small garden near the Graham Street market. She knocks on the nearby table, “Look at this. It’s tilted. You can easily guess why the maker has made it such a way, as if he’s saying, ‘I’m the “designer”, so I can make things tilted.’ Such a designer’s mentality is rather common.” “But nature is not like that. In nature, everything has a form which springs from reasons and functions. Walking in nature, everything seems to tell me that there’s a beginning. I can always feel that.” “If you ask me if my work has anything to do with nature, I would say that human beings are part of nature. Nature is not just mountains, grass, and insects. If man is not part of nature, we cannot feel anything.” A market can be a stage to observe nature. When we pass by a fish stall, Fiona stops her feet and watches how the fishmonger chop the fish. “I like chopping fish,” she says. Her strange interest surprises me. And she says that she loves how the fishmonger is very sharp with his movement. The way he uses his knife and where he lands it is full of wisdom, all mastered through years of experience. Everything is about nature. “From an art perspective, we call it ‘craftsmanship’, which sounds complicated. The process of making is indeed a matter of ways of living,” she says. “I think the best thing about the fishmonger is that he hasn’t intentionally done much. That’s perfection.” “You don’t find it scary?” I ask. She quickly answers, “Not at all!” She talks about how she used to watch her grandmother cut fish when she was a kid. She found it so fascinating that she also took part. “You’d still see the hook inside the mouth of the fish. There were also fish eggs. I didn’t find it scary. That’s natural.” She likes how fish scales are arranged, as well as the structure of its bones. “There is a sense of order, and this order has a purpose. It’s for the fish to survive better.” “I think people are scared because they are unfamiliar with nature.”
Someone said that Chui-mei was searching for her own place in space after seeing her early works, which typically show small figures within an open field. Chui-mei thinks the opposite, “‘I’ do not exist. When I paint, I sense an empty state of mind. Whatever I add onto a white canvas, be it a sense of space, or the shape of a figure, is all illusionary. Essentially there is ‘nothing’, like how emptiness prevails in life.” This sounds rather religious. She has indeed tried some soul searching in religion. “I’ve been to fellowships in churches and Buddhist worships. I do like Buddhist ideas, but I get unsettled during chanting. Now I have given up.” But Chui-mei has never given up on the pursuit of painting. At a time when installation art was the trend and many of her schoolmates followed, she persisted in painting until today. In 1998, when Chui-mei was awarded at the Hong Kong Art Biennale, and later, held her first solo exhibition at the Fringe Club, she became sought-after. At that moment, she was not sure how she could continue her career. “I kept thinking a lot. At last, I know all I want to do was painting,” she says. “It gives me spiritual satisfaction. Even if I have to teach, or go without any career opportunities, I would still do what I like in my own time.” Feeling that being a secondary school teacher had occupied too much of her time, Chui-mei resigned. She started teaching kids in Central, in exchange for more time to paint. She moved her studio from Mong Kok to Fotan, and then from Fotan to Shek Kip Mei. Going around the city, she eventually returned home, after all the hustle and bustle in Hong Kong, to the last stop at the end of the blue metro line — Chai Wan. A few years ago, she finally paid off her mortgage. She quitted her job to become a freelancer, picking up odd jobs, showing in exhibitions once in a while. Creative work is her desire, as well as her way to make a living. “I feel most inspired when facing a white canvas,” she says. “I would spend moments trying to focus myself, because for the rest of the time, I would have to resolve a lot of issues. There are a lot of possibilities and I have a desire to head to the unknown.” Chui-mei thinks this process of art making is indeed her attitude to the future. Artworks are illusionary, but satisfaction and reliance are real.
that
dogs, fish, turtles, pigeons… Her mother was an outgoing person, and she loved to take her kids out all year long. “In summers, we either went swimming or fishing, or we did both,” she talks with a joyous tone. If they caught a fish, her mother would then make fish soup at home. In winters, when her mother went to the temple, Fiona would bring along her badminton kits, hot water bottles and food. On the way to the temple, they would walk pass a green field where they went for badminton and picnics. “We used to go out to the countryside a lot,” she says. “During weekends when people didn’t have to go to work, there wasn’t much to do at home.” Of course, the world is not the same now. Nowadays everyone has a mobile phone. Who needs to go out?” It is only until this year that Fiona decided to switch to a smart phone. She says that she is not against technology; she only has to look at her real needs. If she needs it, she would use it, and vice versa. She doesn’t want to follow the fast-changing trend of technology and get obsessed with latest phone models, chasing the wheel of time. Today, the Graham Street Market is undergoing demolition, and new skyscrapers will soon be built. As we continue walking, Fiona points to where she used to eat, or shop, which are now all covered up by hoarding. In Hong Kong, there are fewer and fewer cries from market sellers; even supermarkets now become supermalls. Fiona still likes traditional areas like the Graham Street Market. “I know it will be all gone, and there is nothing we can do.” If shopping in a street market is a way of life, going to supermalls is also a way of living. Both are natural. Why does she not like both? She explains that a street market crystalizes folk wisdom. A foam box is a makeshift tray for selling vegetables; hooked, it becomes a hanger for the butcher. But in supermarkets, they build the shelves simply to fill them with products. How dull! “Now the society is the same. The structure is built and you have to follow.” When she teaches art, she often hears students saying that art has to respond to social issues. “I find it strange. I ask them where they hear that. Why do we have to do that?” For those students, art is only a tool, and creativity is only a means to express ideas. Fiona shakes her head, thinking how wrong such an understanding of art is. Instead of concentrating on issues, she would rather focus on materials and their nature. “I let materials find their way in the creative process, instead of seeing them as a means to say what you need to say.” Like chopping fish, we need to have the fish first before the cutting techniques. “Nature will teach you how to open up,” she says.
When Fiona was young, she had pets. Cats,
關於創不同協作
About MaDi (Make A Difference Institute)
創 不 同 協 作 （ MADi） 以 香 港 為 根 據 地 ， 是 民 間 發 起 的 非 牟 利 非 政 府 文 化 組 織 。 MADi策 動 跨 界 合 作 平 台 MaD （Make a Difference）， 鼓 勵運用創意及創新方法解決 時代挑戰，促進亞洲正面改變；也提倡富同理心及合乎道德 的合作方式，推動永續發展、多元共融，致力締造創意公民 社會。
Make A Difference Institute (MaDi) is a Hong Kong-based non-profit, non-government and community-initated cultural organization. It steers MaD (Make a Difference), a collaborative platform for creative responses to our time's challenges and positive change in Asia. Dedicated to nurturing a creative civil society, MaD advocates empathetic and ethical practice, and promotes sustainability and inclusivity.
艺鵠ACO借出拍攝場地 Special thanks to ACO for facilitating the shooting of our key visual
創不同協作編製 版權屬康樂及文化事務署所有©2015年 版權所有，未經許可不得翻印、節錄及轉載 Produced by Make A Difference Institute Copyright ©2015 by the Leisure and Cultural Services Department All rights reserved
paintings. One of them was on a big wall: against the grassy green background, there are a few rock mountains, sometimes vivid, sometimes vague, seemingly formed by jade and gold threads. Chui-mei told me that her inspiration came from the jade market in Yau Ma Tei. Another mural was predominantly in red, with a hibiscus sketchily painted in simple and spontaneous brushstrokes; next to it lies a small stage and a few windows formed by simple straight lines, echoing with the Cantonese Opera house which was once the Yau Ma Tei Cinema. These two mural paintings are relatively more figurative among her recent works, which tend to be abstract. Instead of painting something concrete, she prefers the play with visual elements.
查詢 Enquiries: 3996 1963 / ask@MaD.asia
主辦 Presented by
籌劃 Organised by
節目夥伴 Programme Partner