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togetherness in diversity
Planting a Garden of
Inclusive and Hybrid Culture
Sam Chak Lui Chan, a star of Cantonese opera, speaks about the reasons of her emigration and new life in Britain with both the story behind her exile from Hong Kong and new challenges she is facing abroad resonating with the stories of artists in exile of any culture and geography
Chak-lui Chan is a performer and scriptwriter of Cantonese opera. In 2002, she established "Atomic Cantonese Theatre" aimed at promoting this genre by demonstrating its relation to current affairs and exploring the possibility of developing local plays. Through their adaptation Chak-lui Chan addressed power relationships and social issues. In 2022, however, Chak-lui Chan had to leave Hong Kong and move to the UK where, supported by the Hongkongese diaspora, she now works on the preservation and revival of the genre's traditions. Her recent productions include "An Ungrateful Wolf" (2021), "Sword" (2023), and "Soliloquy in the Mountain" (2024).

Chak-lui Chan
performer and scriptwriter of Cantonese opera
Many people might have heard of Cantonese - a variety of Chinese spoken primarily in the southern Chinese province of Guangdong and its neighboring regions, including Hong Kong and Macau and famous for its distinctive pronunciation, vocabulary, and grammar compared to Mandarin and other Chinese dialects. But what about Cantonese opera - your area of expertise? How can you describe Cantonese opera and its uniqueness? Why is it important for Hong Kong culural heritage?

Cantonese opera showcases the stories of Hong Kong people through its music, livelihood, jokes, and heritage of different ancient Chinese cultures. Sure, this artform has a close connection with the Cantonese language commonly used by many Hong Kong people in their daily lives. It treasures the music of this dialect and expands it to the body movement of the performers. The in-betweenness of Cantonese opera, Han culture/ Canton culture/ Hong Kong culture, as well as the play between the traditional and the popular are some of the good examples of Hong Kong culture which itself is flexible, hybrid, and adaptable.

If the ticketing for performances is controlled by the government rather than the public, it becomes easy for the authorities to dictate the tastes and objectives of the art form. In instances where Cantonese opera is not widely popular or when fewer people in Hong Kong appreciate this art form, sustaining the business becomes a challenge. Public funding may seem like a solution to the financial crisis, but it often leads to the art form becoming more distant from the public and closer to the committee deciding funding distribution.


Ten years ago, I expressed concerns about this happening, and sadly, it has become a reality now. This situation threatens the ability of Cantonese opera to effectively communicate with the community. I am sorry to see this unfold.

How can you describe the political and cultural situation in Hong Kong now? How free is art there and how do you see the future of Cantonese opera?

The freedom of speech and creativity in Hong Kong is increasingly restrained. Many artists are struggling to find ways to express themselves in a landscape filled with obstacles. I admire their resilience and wish them all the best. However, I personally reached a point where I no longer want to navigate the uncertainties of self-censorship. That's why I made the decision to leave.


At times, I reflect on my efforts to safeguard Cantonese opera over the years. If its decline is inevitable, perhaps it's better to let it go gracefully rather than see it used for national security propaganda. Like fallen leaves nourishing new growth, Cantonese opera may evolve into something unrecognized by many but cherished by those who understand its roots.


In the autumn of 2021, I had to prepare a ten-minutes' speech about the works of my troupe. Just one day before the presentation, a famous pop song artist was arrested by the ICAC (Independent Commission Against Corruption) - a move many saw as politically motivated. My mother, concerned for my safety, urged me to change the content of my speech, knowing that I had written scripts addressing societal issues that could cause trouble. Reluctantly, I altered my PowerPoint presentation. As I looked at the screen, I suddenly made up my mind: if I couldn't express my thoughts in just ten minutes, what could I do?


That week, I applied for a British National (overseas) visa [a type of visa that allows Hong Kong citizens to work and study in the UK for a period of either two years and six months or five years]. I chose the UK because I sought a place where more Hong Kongers were devoted to fighting for the freedom of Hong Kong and continuing our social movement.

"In 2022, after doing the housework here in the UK, already in exile, I did physical exercise of Cantonese Opera at home in the morning. As the time was near Mid-Autumn Festival, the melody of one famous pop song in Mandarin by Teresa Teng suddenly came into my mind. I starting singing it with tears in my eyes and took a record. On that day, there was a memorial event of Queen Elizabeth in Hong Kong, a lot of people came to the streets with their phones lit, someone even used harmonica to play "Glory to Hong Kong". I am so impressed by their courage! Then I send a message to a musician and asked if it was possible to add music on my vocals to send our love and support to those who are still living in Hong Kong. And my friend sent me back this video version."

You said that exile has also broadened your perspective, allowing you to recognize injustices and totalitarianism in other parts of the world. How else has the emigration changed you? What did you learn about yourself in exile?

When I was living in Hong Kong, most of the people I met were fellow Hong Kong citizens, and most of the issues I cared about revolved around incidents in Hong Kong. However, leaving my hometown and living abroad exposed me to people from different places and various ethnicities. While we share common concerns such as family and work, I have also become more aware that many people around the world are forced to leave their homes.


I share my feelings and stories with locals, and I am grateful for their support as they help me adapt to society. Through these interactions, I have come to understand that many countries face injustice and totalitarianism. While we may be in exile, it's also a time to awaken and recognize the importance of addressing worldwide unfairness and injustice.


Being a Hong Konger is my identity, allowing me to connect with others who are also facing totalitarianism around the world. Together, we stand united to fight for freedom and justice.


After deciding to leave Hong Kong, I realized that my love for the city goes beyond my passion for Cantonese opera, an art form I deeply cherish. There are still many people living in fear of violating arbitrary rules imposed by those in power, and many languishing in jail without fair legal judgment. In a city where freedom of speech is limited and personal rights are not safeguarded, it can feel hopeless when the government uses regulations to suppress dissent.


Despite these challenges, I am determined to hold onto my faith in justice and embrace the love and support of Hong Kong people worldwide. Art, for me, is more than just expression—it's a form of creativity and communication. I'm moved by songs, paintings, and articles that evoke our shared sentiment towards Hong Kong. I want to stand alongside fellow artists, step by step, to create a road and plant a garden of inclusive and hybrid Hong Kong culture in different parts of the world.


I am incredibly grateful for the opportunity to reconnect with my teachers, students, and ex-colleagues in the UK. Their love and support for Cantonese opera and Hong Kong culture have been overwhelming. Some people reached out to me through social media, offering support and providing opportunities to perform. This is crucial for me as it allows me to refine my scripts and songs, making improvements along the way.


The Chinese idiom "love the house and its crow" captured the kindness of the Hong Kong diaspora. I am deeply moved by their love and support, especially knowing the challenges they face in new circumstances. Their simple and straightforward gesture speaks volumes about their humanity. Their desire for my happiness is evident, and I am truly touched by their generosity.

When I decided to leave Hong Kong, I knew I could no longer perform Cantonese opera. It was like a plant leaving the soil. Fortunately, with the support and help from the Hong Kong diaspora, I not only have the chance to perform, but also to collaborate with different musicians and artists. How lucky I am! I am walking the final path of my journey, treasuring the moments and opportunities to share what I have learned with audiences.

With no expectations for the future, I simply work and live in the here and now, embracing what I have and the people I meet. Perhaps someday, the flower will grow.

Images used in this publication are screenshots from the film "The Black Wall" 黑牆
(2022, world premiered and nominated as Golden Horse Best Documentary Short)

Hong Kong 24min 4:3 Col stereo
Director: Anson Mak
Cinematography: Leung Ming-kai

Interview, design: Olga Bubich