by Dr. Edwin K. Lai

In the past two years, Hong Kong has experienced tremendous turmoil. Many people worried about the drastic political changes, some wanted to maintain the life they lived before the reunification. This kind of thinking, namely the diaspora mentality, has arisen several times in Hong Kong. A good example is that after the Republican Revolution in 1911, many Qing scholars and officials alike from the Guangzhou area went south; they settled down in Hong Kong but still lived the life in the past.

Diaspora mentality means reminiscence. It lets us learn from, understand, and cherish history, and most importantly, re-examine the neglected and forgotten historical course. For Thomas Lin, he chose to focus on the beginning of colonial Hong Kong, a Western-style port city on the outskirts of southern China, and the contrast between its dark nights at that time and the metropolitan brilliance today. He asked: “What if the people of 1841 could look upon our skyline tonight?”

I think the best person to answer this question is Dr. Edward H. Cree (1814-1901), a British naval surgeon who visited Hong Kong several times in the first years for work and leisure. During his stay, he joined many dinner parties and night trips. Dr. Cree wrote journals, which often accompanied his drawings, which is a fascinating narrative about the early life of Hong Kong. On 25th March (Tuesday), 1845, he wrote:

A picnic had been arranged for the opposite shore of Liemoon (Lei Yue Mun). A lorcha, a large covered boat with a fine cabin, was hired in case it rained… We started with a fair wind, under black skies, at noon… Of rain and wind, we soon had more than enough. We could not land for the surf on the beach and had to beat our way back to the harbour in time for dinner on board the Vixen… The weather had cleared, so after dinner, we rigged up the quarterdeck, got Routh’s piano up, and our three musicians, and were soon kicking our heels up to the delight of the girls till near midnight, when we saw all the girls safely home. The next day, a dance at McKnight’s where we met the same party with additions.

At the time, nightlife was under the light of whale oil lamps or otherwise moonlight. In order to simulate this illuminance, Lin’s photographs in this exhibition are taken based on the exposure value of EV −3. As he explained, “Adopting such a low value will overexpose the city lights to an unmanageable extent, and the blurry outcomes render the scenes to appear unfamiliar.” If Dr. Cree could see these photographs, would he feel the same?

What comes to my mind is ‘The Wall’, an early song by the Hong Kong band Tat Ming Pair:

Shuttling in the heart of the street, pedestrians in black pass by, feelings on their faces concealed, wandering slowly in this long road…There is no colour, no light, that separates everything.

The song is about post-World War II Berlin, a city that became the new analogy for today’s Hong Kong. Now the new Cold War suddenly focuses on this Asian city, revealing its internal conflicts, and people feel helpless about it. In this 1986 song, lyricist Keith Chan described East Berlin as sad and desperate. Yet just a few years later, the wall that was believed to stand forever was demolished by the Germans. So while constantly musing on history, I am willing to look on the bright side of the future. Just like vocalist Anthony Wong repeated at the end of the song:

Let there be colours, be light, hoping for it in my heart.

黎健強 博士

這兩年香港社會經歷了很大的動盪，許多人一方面感到典章制度發生了翻天覆地的轉變，另一方面卻希望維持以往的生活方式。這種思想可以稱之為遺民心態，它在香港曾經發生過好幾次：最佳例子是一九一一年中國發生了共和革命之後，不少原本居住在廣州等地的清朝儒生和官民紛紛南下來到香港，繼續過著之前忠君守故的日子。

遺民心態就是懷舊，它最有意義的就是令人學習、認識和珍惜歷史，以至重新審視被忽略忘記了的昔日發展過程。今次練錦順選擇了的，是香港這個位於南中國邊陲的西式港口城市的成立初年，以及將當時夜裡的暗黑環境，對照如今霓虹燈光亮透晚上的境況。他問道：「如果一八四一年的香港人能夠與我們見面並見證今天的夜景，該會有何感想？」

回答這個問題的最佳人選，我認為是香港開埠年間多次隨船訪港工作和遊玩的英國海軍軍醫克里(Edward H. Cree, 1814-1901)。他在香港期間，常常都有參加晚宴和夜間旅行的活動。克里醫生有寫日誌的習慣，還每每加上自繪的圖畫，令後人對當年的香港社會產生圖文並茂的印象。例如他記錄的一八四五年三月廿五日(星期二)：

「準備了在鯉魚門對岸野餐，為防下雨雇了一艘有蓋和精緻船艙的帆船。……我們在中午烏雲有風時起行，……很快風雨就令我們吃不消了，但又不能在海灘登陸，只好力克風浪回到岸邊，及時趕上在「雌狐」(Vixen)艦甲板上舉行的晚餐。……天氣變得清朗，那麼餐會結束後我們就清理了後甲板，搬出魯夫(Routh)的鋼琴，三個音樂家隨即大跳特跳，引得女孩子們大樂。直至接近午夜，然後我們才送她們全部安全回家。第二天在麥禮特(McKnight)家有舞會，同一班人又來了，而且來的更多。」

在那個年代，晚上都使用鯨魚油燈來照明，甚至月光還是會派上用場的；為了模擬那個照明度，練錦順在本展覽裡的照片都是根據EV −3的曝光值進行拍攝的。正如他自己所解釋：「採用如此低的曝光值會使得城市的燈光過度曝光至難以控制的程度，其結果令景象顯得模糊而感覺陌生。」如果克里醫生能夠觀看到這些照片，他的感受是否也是如此呢？

在我來說，想到的卻是香港樂隊「達明一派」早期作品《圍牆》的歌詞：

「穿梭於街中心穿黑色的行人路過，在面上一絲絲深沉。徘徊在這長長路中慢行。……沒色彩，沒光線，令一切隔開。」

《圍牆》描述的世界當然是第二次世界大戰之後的德國城市柏林，一個這兩年來常常有人比擬當前香港的地方。那時候的冷戰焦點，一下子轉移到來了這個本來內部矛盾不算激烈的小都會，令居民感到十分無辜，嗟歎橫禍無端的飛來。《圍牆》發表於一九八六年，填詞人陳少琪筆下的東柏林是憂傷而絕望的；只是過不了幾年，多數人認為永遠不會倒下的圍牆就給德國人民拆毀了。所以我在常常回望歷史的同時，也願意抱著積極的心情迎向未來。正如樂隊的歌者黃耀明在歌曲結束時交錯唱著的幾句：

「讓色彩，讓光線，在心裡期待。」