Lo Kai-yin | South China Morning Post

March 2024 ยท 5 minute read

In the early 1980s, you could say I was one of Hong Kong's first brands. Now, everybody talks about 'branding' - I've never known any other way to go about it. I design in a particular way, therefore I represent the design and I stand behind the brand. People spend a lot of money trying to create this process and I just did it naturally. In the beginning, as an historian, I had absolutely no idea about business.

Back then, I was working in New York. I was staying at my friend's place on 57th and Park - very posh. Every day I'd walk down Fifth Avenue as far as Cartier then cross the Rockefeller Centre into the Time-Life Building. One day I stopped at Cartier and showed them my designs. The general manager said, 'I like your designs very much, but I prefer the jewellery you're wearing.' I was wearing these antique pieces I put together [which I later bought back at Sotheby's]. I eventually designed a collection for them.

I was given a break at Cartier. But looking back, one break is not enough to establish a designer. She has to prove herself again and again, season after season. This is where my sense of history came in. If you know the historical process, you'll appreciate the pulse of change and development.

I began to adapt jade and other antique stones as well as bone and ivory carvings into my designs because I wanted to use what Hong Kong and China were good at. They were inexpensive to buy - people didn't know their value back then. China had only just opened up in the early 80s and they couldn't ascertain what all the pieces found on digs and finds were. I also used silver plate with 18-carat gold. I like things that are real, not costume jewellery. People acknowledge my work with semi-precious stones as pioneering. It is about reinterpreting an old tradition and making it current.

Design is part of life; it is applied art and has to function. The crossover of art and design these days is exciting. I work with the government on broadening awareness of culture, which in Hong Kong is not that easy, because we have not been brought up with it. We have been brought up with a commercial awareness but no mature society can leave it at that.

At the moment, where we can compete is in design. But we have competitors all around us, like the manufacturing industry in the Pearl River Delta. [The mainland] just opened a huge bridge in Nantong. We don't have that, we don't have the infrastructure - we are losing out.

I feel in Hong Kong we are so limited in space. We are completely ruled by the developers. I've just returned from Beijing where the Three Shadows Photography Art Centre has opened. The space is so wonderful, designed by Ai Weiwei. Whatever we do here is all cooped up, I always say, 'When you do not have the physical and material space, you do not have creative space.'

Our former chief executive, Tung Chee-hwa, is culturally minded. He realised after the return to China, Hong Kong people, the young ones especially, didn't know who we were. What is our Chinese identity? To examine that, we started the Culture and Heritage Commission.

I seldom have appointments before noon because that's when I work with my designers. Sometimes I become very lazy and I drag people up to my place for lunch. I'm very keen on designing food, so to speak.

I like to try different dishes at restaurants and modify them at home.

In 2000, I decided to change my life. I was in [department store] Neiman Marcus in the US. I was with Bergdorf Goodman for 10 years as their first Asian brand. I was in Saks Fifth Avenue. As a brand [that is stocked by luxury department stores], you have to travel to at least 15 outlets every season. You have to keep up personal appearances and staff training on your own design philosophy. I wanted a different life. I closed my shops. I had three shops in Hong Kong at the time, five at the height of my activities.

I went to Harvard Business School after 10 years of being in business. By that time, I had already published my first book on furniture. Ming dynasty furniture is a great development of Chinese aesthetic culture. I became interested in the meaning behind it - why furniture developed, what the spiritual meaning was.

My last book was the result of a big exhibition in New York, at the China Institute. This was an important exhibition that lasted six months. For the first time people got a chance to see the countryside of China and the vernacular way of living. From there I called a symposium of the world's leading Asian scholars in 2001. Their cross-disciplinary essays were complied into the book House, Home, Family - Living and Being Chinese, co-edited by myself and Professor Ronald G. Knapp, and finally published in 2006. Of all the things I've done, this is the one that has given me the most satisfaction - knowing that this book has been adopted by over 20 universities and colleges in their East Asian studies curriculum.

It was particularly important for me because I don't belong to any academic discipline and the scholars were very sceptical of me because I don't have a doctorate.

The fact that a layperson could muster so many experts is an achievement. Now, I spend 60 per cent of my time in jewellery and accessories and the rest of the time lecturing on topics ranging from Chinese history, identity, decoration and design to culture and creative industries.

I work quite late. In the evenings, I often have friends over for drinks. Unless I have events or concerts to attend, I prefer to dine at home. I'm very fond of opera, so I usually have Placido Domingo or Frederick Burchinal recordings playing on my stereo.

Before bed, I do some reading. At the moment, I am reading Long Yingtai's collection of essays titled Yehuo ji. She is such a powerful writer. I'm usually in bed by 11pm.'

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