Notes from Hong Kong

My personal relationship with Hong Kong stretches back 30 years – to the time I moved there from London in 1994. I arrived on a 1-2 year contract, and ended up living in the city for 6 years. Since then, I have continued to visit at least once a year, and my latest trip earlier this month was the fifth since hotel quarantine was lifted in October 2022, following the global pandemic.

Despite the significant political, demographic, social and economic upheavals of recent years, in many ways Hong Kong remains the same. It still acts as a fulcrum between East and West, and an important trading entrepôt for mainland China and the rest of the world. There are still the evident paradoxes represented by Hong Kong’s ancient traditions and modern values, combining spiritual beliefs with materialistic tastes, and vertiginous high-rises set against mountainous backdrops and waterfront vistas.

From an economic standpoint, Hong Kong remains in something of a lull. People I spoke to commented that the SAR government needs to find new sources of income, especially as the property market (a cornerstone of the local stock exchange) remains patchy, and visitor numbers are only about 50% of pre-pandemic levels.

As I have mentioned in a previous blog, Hong Kong is usually resilient and adept at reinventing its financial fortunes.

For these reasons, the Hong Kong administration is pursuing a fairly aggressive policy of promoting itself as an attractive global venue for the digital asset industry in part to reinvigorate the local capital markets, in part to outpace its regional neighbour and rival, Singapore. (Plus, the SAR acts as something of a test bed for the rest of the PRC.) According to people I spoke with, there is some difference of opinion as to how many digital asset exchanges are actively pursuing a Virtual Asset Service Provider (VASP) license, given that only two licenses have been granted so far, while a number of applications have been withdrawn, refused or rejected for being incomplete.

During my visit, I was granted a 1:1 interview for Brave New Coin with Yat Siu, co-founder and Chairman of Animoca Brands, a leading player in web3.0, NFTs, the metaverse and, potentially, stablecoin issuance. A major advocate of digital property rights, Siu is a very influential figure within the fintech scene, and I expect to see many more announcements from his company leading up to, and during, major events such as Token2049 and Hong Kong Fintech Week. I also met with clients and contacts across crypto exchanges, hedge funds, VCs, brokers and tech providers. All remain suitably bullish on the digital asset sector, although some considered that there needs to be some industry consolidation, to soak up excess infrastructure and to stabilise the entry of institutional fund managers.

Finaly, I found time for some contemporary art exhibitions, confirming that Hong Kong continues to establish its profile in the arena of global culture. There was Bruce Nauman at the JC Contemporary in Tai Kwun, I.M.Pei and Henry Steiner at M+, and even Banksy and Damien Hirst at Sotheby’s Maison at Chater House. Of course, this being Hong Kong, the displays in Sotheby’s showrooms are not too dissimilar to the luxury goods on sale in the surrounding malls.

Next week: Postcript on Tarantino vs Ritchie

 

The Law of Diminishing Returns….

After blogging about false economies last week, a similar topic came to mind – the law of diminishing returns. This is the principle that suggests the longer you keep doing the same thing, the less benefit you derive from it.

I know from personal experience that continuing to work at something for any length of time can lead to a decline in results – fatigue sets in, I’m more prone to making mistakes, and I end up spending more time double-checking and correcting my work. So, in way, it’s another false economy – spending more hours on a task (the input) does not justify the amount of effort, or guarantee the quality of the end results (the output). Part of it is down to efficiencies, but it’s also to do with losing focus, being distracted, or being so intent on the “doing” and not the “achieving”.

Politicians, writers, musicians, artists, athletes are all susceptible to the law of diminishing returns. Doggedly repeating the same old slogans in pursuit of the same old policies (or trying to hold on to power for its own sake) lead political parties into stagnation and electoral dead ends. Successful athletes who don’t know when to hang up their boots rarely get to choose the timing of their retirement. Creatives who keep recording the “same” album, writing the “same” novel, making the “same” film, or painting the “same” picture come across as stale, formulaic, tired, boring and bereft of ideas – it’s clear that they have nothing new to say, so why should we keep paying attention?

Next week: Whose side is AI on?

 

 

Triennial? Could try harder!

The NGV 2023 Triennial is really perplexing. It promises a lot, but ends up delivering very little of substance. I came away with no lasting impression of any particular work, and given there are 100 “projects” on display, that’s a very low strike rate.

First, the positives: it’s free; it draws in the crowds (especially during Melbourne’s late summer heatwave); there are over 120 artists involved; they include local and international, established and emerging names; most forms of art practice are represented; there is a LOT to look at.

Now the negatives: the curation felt scatter-gun, with the lack of a clear narrative theme or contextual thread; BIG is interpreted as being GOOD; the juxtaposition of new works with the NGV permanent collection must have seemed like a good idea, but the joins are abrupt and the implied associations often make no sense at all; and despite the variety of media, it all felt very samey, and nothing cutting edge; in fact, it all felt rather safe.

Much of the work looked like it had come off a conveyor belt, or designed by a focus group. So it ended up feeling bland, anodyne, tokenistic, worthy, “shocking” for its own sake, and was like a production line of the “latest thing”.

Often, less is more. This felt bloated and over done.

A great shame, and a lost opportunity.

Next week: State of the Music Industry…

 

 

Ballarat International Foto Biennale (BIFB)

This past weekend saw the opening of the 10th Ballarat Internationale Foto Biennale. The overarching theme this year is “The Real Thing”, recognising the impact that digital, AI, NFTs and image manipulation are having on the visual arts in general, and the photographic medium in particular.

The highlight of the first weekend was the keynote presentation by Platon, one of the most high-profile and prolific portrait photographers of our age, famous for his images of political figures, popular icons, and social activists. Given that Platon works mostly with traditional 35mm film and captures living subjects, his work certainly deals with the “real” thing.

At the end of the first day, visitors were also treated to a Victorian magic lantern presentation, combining authentic analog apparatus, multi-media components and live performance. For audiences of the day, such events would have been their first encounter with moving images and projections – which we take for granted in our screen-obsessed culture.

As with any festival on this scale and duration, there is a wide range of work on display. This is especially so outside the Core Program, with the Outdoor and Open Programs taking on the challenging task of representing different aesthetics, styles, techniques, subject matter, and as such they reflect varying levels of quality and competence.

It wasn’t possible to see all of the exhibitions in the first two days – and some works don’t go on display until later in the program – but for me, the highlights beyond the major Platon show included: Stephen Dupont‘s happy accidents; Jon Setter‘s stunning abstract images of Ballarat; several of the works by regional photographers curated by Jeff Moorfoot; the scattered works by the Oculi Collective; and the display presented by the Australian Association of Street Photographers Inc.

Some exhibitions were less successful: I really wanted to engage with William Yang‘s work, but the unfocused curation and haphazard presentation undermined any appreciation of the images and their underlying narrative; Erik Johansson‘s highly stylised images are humorous and surreal, but they can also come across as very superficial, so we are left marvelling at the surface technique rather than any depth behind the work; and while it was nice to see some of Andy Warhol‘s original Polaroids, they were presented with very limited context, as if they were an afterthought (the fact that they are probably the earliest works in the whole festival may have something to do with them feeling out of place, as well as out of time).

It is easy to see how some photographers could get constrained, either by their subject matter, or by their technique. Working with self-imposed limitations should be positive. Using fewer tools can drive creativity (“less is more”). Having less time can result in better outcomes (“the first take is usually the best take”). Innovation comes from exploring our curiosity. Inventiveness is the result of challenging ourselves through problem-solving. However, an artist can reveal themselves to be a one-trick pony, or their technical expertise overwhelms the output (“form over substance”). Sometimes, the narrative or subject matter is more important than the quality of the image, but just as a crappy technique can impair a great image, a perfect technique cannot compensate for a poor composition.

The notion of “reality” prompts us to consider what is a photograph? The fact that most modern photos are captured on a smart phone rather then a camera simply confirms that not all photographic images need to be created using a dedicated physical device (think of photograms). And since most photos are digital rather than on film means we are not limited to think of photography as a combination of manual, chemical and mechanical processes.

However, some of the work on display does challenge the definition of “photography”, especially in the context of art. For example, an image can be surreal or satirical, but when does that stray into being fake news? Equally, even though professionals like Platon render their work in a digital environment during the post-production process, should a composite of stock images manipulated using Adobe Photoshop qualify as a work of photographic art (or is it a mere illustration)? And with the growth of AI tools to generate images (which raises questions of authorship, copyright and attribution), should their use be disclosed and identified (just as paintings, sculptures and other art works are catalogued by their materials, processes and editioning)?

In the early days of music CDs, the recording industry developed the “SPARS code”. Letter combinations such as “AAD”, “ADD”, and “DDD” are intended to inform listeners that the music has been recorded, mixed and mastered using either analog or digital processes and equipment. Perhaps something similar should be considered for photography and digital art?

Next week: Banking Blues (pt. 481)