In Hong Kong, the Art of Resistance and Erasure
I recently arrived in Hong Kong, a few days after a mass march through the central business district. The event marked six months of turmoil that has fractured the city. As they marched, the protestors left hundreds of messages over the road and on walls, street signs and bus stops; even the lions guarding the Bank of China found themselves unceremoniously decorated with anti-government slogans.
After the march, the authorities ordered workers to clean away the messages. Most were painted over, but the messages on tram stops were only smeared. (A reflection of Hong Kong’s ‘good enough’ attitude to many things in life.)
This left the messages obscured, but not completely erased — almost all of the original messages were lost; but they were transformed into something new. I was amazed that the act of erasing these heartfelt protest messages could result in something so expressive.
And I was captivated by how these marks captured the energy and essence of the moment in Hong Kong: upheaval, collision, anger and violence — but also resistance and hope. They are like classical Chinese ink and wash or modern abstract expressionist paintings; art forms that seek to capture the spirit or essence of things, rather than what they look like.
In this case, there are two ‘artists’, and they represent both sides: the protestor and the cleaner (working on the orders of the government). The cleaner’s effortless brushstrokes embody an impressive degree of gong fu.
Over three evenings I photographed these tram stops late into the night, dodging traffic and tear gas. I learned to follow the curves and strokes of the brush. But they were beginning to disappear; replaced by new advertisements for investment banks and life insurance.
During my short stay in Hong Kong, I hoped for something that could heal the city’s wounds. But I could only watch them grow deeper. On my way to the airport, the last message I passed was on a tram stop in Central. It had been smeared, like the rest, but three Chinese characters survived: ‘香港人’ — ‘Hong Kong People’ … attacked, but not erased.
