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Archive

Number 15

2025-04-13

Edited by: LEE KA-SING AND HOLLY LEE ARCHIVE

kasingholly.com kasingholly@gmail.com

Once upon a name card

Holly Lee (written in 2020), reprinted from DOUBLE DOUBLE 0918-2020

It probably began in early 1975…

Ka-sing used to be known by Wingo to his friends, a name he made up, a name that made me

think of flying freely like a kite in an expansive blue sky, a name of sheer imagination. The first

name card (so I think) he made was actually the address where he lived, lying north of the island


of Hong Kong. It was an old pre-war four-storey building. One day, while sitting

on a double-decker tram passing by on busy King’s road, I saw him perching on

the balcony reading a book, in his apple-green long sleeve shirt, rolled up half

way.

Double-sided, 85mm x 45mm (trimmed), circa 1978.

Used in Lan Kwai Fong. The poet Ah Nam’s name and phone number were handwritten

on the back by Holly.

Single-sided, 89mm x 53mm, circa 1974–75.

The first name card.

The word game

In the years pursuing we lived together, writing, photographing and chasing

puppet shows and performing artists in the after-hours of our day jobs. Shortly

after, I quit my bank job, used up my pension to rent a 500 square feet studio

in a small back street called Lan Kwai Fong in the central part of Hong Kong.

While working diligently as self-trained fledgling photographers, we were still in

touch with our literary friends, and at the back of this name card I found in the

Rolodex, the telephone number I wrote down of Ah Nam, a blue collar and selftaught

poet. He was to become one of the most celebrated poets in Hong Kong.

In 1979, we moved up to nearby Wyndham street, where we used the name Holly

& Wingo Lee Studio. Name card index albums and boxes were used extensively

during those years, and two more name cards demonstrated this. In this yellow

name card is my writing of the residential and work number of Leung Kui-Ting,

who was an artist, as well as my teacher at the evening design school I attended

in 1972. On the other card featuring Wingo working, Danny Yung wrote down his

phone number and address for us. Danny is a founding member and co-artistic

director of Zuni Icosahedron 進 念 , an esteemed Hong Kong-based avant-garde

theatre founded in 1982. Thirty-some years later, we met Danny again in Toronto,

when he came to open his exhibition “Blank Boy Canvas” at the Gladstone Hotel

in 2015.

Double-sided (back printed in plain light yellow), 92mm x 51mm, circa 1979.

Holly’s handwriting of Leung Kui-Ting’s residence and work numbers appear on the back.

Double-sided, 89mm x 52mm (corner trimmed), circa 1980.

Both sides feature photos of Ka-sing working in the studio. (Left) Danny Yung’s

handwriting with his phone number and address.



As I was always wondering how the name Zuni Icosahedron 進 念 二 十 面 體 for

this experimental theatre originated, people must have also wonder where did

the name of the Hong Kong photography magazine NuNeHeDuo 女 那 禾 多 (1992-

1999, also known as Dislocation) come from. “Zuni”, if we googled, is a colour

between blue and green, the colour value is #008996. Icosahedron is a twentysided

object. Together it projects two essential visual elements: colour and

form, invoking bodily movements in theatre works. For Dislocation Magazine - a

contemporary photography journal, we wanted to express shifting, and delicate

movements 移 , like silver halide crystals dancing on film when exposed to light,

like the way a beautiful woman elegantly passing by 娜 . In Chinese we chose to

use 娜 移 nuó yí for such an impression. And furthermore, as an experiment, and

for fun we split the two Chinese characters 娜 移 into four individual characters

that became 女 那 禾 多 Nu Na Hé Duo, which is phonetically Mandarin, and when

translated word by word into English they are: woman, that, grain, abundance. It

was the related yet unrelated elements we found fascinating, images interplayed

with words, and words conjuring up images. In the same manner, if I wanted to

be naughty today, I would describe and translate into Chinese Zuni Icosahedron’s

theatre as a collaborated dance: 騷 離 愛 共 耍 輕 進 . Zuni, love, together, play

lightly, forward. The Chinese characters suggest such playful imagery, like a

‘push push’ in aerobic dance. And by the way, just as it’s not confusing enough,

when we read the name out aloud, to be in line with the English sound, it should

be read in CANTONESE, the more ancient and popular dialect in Southern

China.

Single-sided, 90mm x 108mm, circa 1982.

(Right) Polaroid SX-70 original, 90mm x 108mm, photographed by Philip Kwok.

Philip designed this card using the Polaroid SX-70 format, referencing Holly’s

photographic practice. As it matched the SX-70 film size exactly, it could be ejected from

the camera. We tried—it worked perfectly!

Up and down Castle Road

In 1982, our studio was relocated further uphill, to 35 Castle Road. It was not

ideal and we had to move again either at the end of the year or in early 1983.

Despite the negative impact it was the place where I conceived my daughter, and

began motherhood months later. During that period we became acquainted with

the Illustration Workshop (the most cutting-edge design team at that time), and

had collaborated with them for some commercial work. While working in this

studio I had a beautiful name card designed by Philip Kwok (1955-2009 郭 立

熹 ), a prominent member of the Illustration Workshop. He borrowed the idea from

the Polaroid SX-70 camera, and asked that the name card be printed in the exact

squarish format of the Polaroid instant film. The image was bold red and yellow

with hints of black and blue, a showy, flashy name card that I still love very much

today. I only used it for a short time because we were moving again.

Envelope, 222mm x 108mm, circa 1982.

Designed by Philip Kwok (Illustration Workshop). The complete set included a full-colour

printed letter sheet.



Single-sided, 92mm x 65mm, circa 1982.

Designed by Ka-sing as an extension of the Polaroid concept. He photographed a

section of a 4x5 Polaroid film holder. At that time, he used a 4x5 view camera for most

assignments, with the format eventually reaching 8x10 inches.

Double-sided, 90mm x 55mm, circa 1983.

Designed by Tommy Li. Ka-sing and Tommy had been close friends since the early ’70s.

The verso includes Ka-sing’s signature as a design element.

Downhill, at the foot of Castle Road number 3, we changed the company name

to Camera Works holly & wingo. The new stationery design was by another

Illustration Workshop member, who was also a good friend of ours - Tommy

Li (1954-2016 李 錦 煇 ). Wingo suggested to put a poem in our moving notice

and went on to select a poem by Xi Xi ( 西 西 ). It seemed, as he recalls now, a

subconscious statement then to the working attitude and direction we were

heading to. In a way, Tommy also revealed his influence, his east vs. west

consciousness by using more Chinese in his design, say setting the English

alphabets vertically, from top to bottom (like writing in traditional Chinese way).

However, some could argue that in real traditional Chinese writing direction, a

column should start from right to left. In this case, our address was read from left

to right. but we didn’t mind. The design of our name cards at this stage was so

neutral, so ‘shared’ that there was only the company name in the front, and at the

back, we each signed our names to identify.

Double-sided, 90mm x 55mm, circa 1983.

Featuring Holly Lee’s signature.



(Left page) Letter sheet, 208mm x 296mm, circa 1983.

Moving notice sent to clients and friends. Printed on studio letterhead, featuring Xi Xi’s

poem Can We Say on the right.

(Below) Publication, 203mm x 153mm. ZEPHYR Press, 2016.

not written words, a collection of Xi Xi’s poems translated by Jennifer Feeley. Can We

Say was used on our studio letterhead.



we had associated with from the 80s to 90s. We both admired and got inspired by

the photographic journal Alfred Stieglitz published from 1903 to 1917 known as

Camera Work, a simple but direct name telling eloquently its very nature.

Double-sided, 95mm x 56mm, circa 1986. Designed by Tommy Li Kam Fai.

The image was of a swimming pool backdrop. It was used for an ad for Palmolive

Soap. Here’s the story, an ad agency shot the commercial film for Palmolive Soap at

a Los Angeles swimming pool, and after shooting, they needed a still photo for print

advertising, which they forgot to take. It was too late, they were already back in Hong

Kong. The agency approached us for a solution. Our task was to recreate the scene and

shoot the same shot with a model. This was the set before shooting.

Double-sided, 89mm x 53mm, circa 1989–90.

At this stage, our cards listed two addresses—one in Hong Kong, one in New York. The

image is from Hong Kong Ni Hao, taken in 1988 for Mandarin Oriental Magazine.

Double-sided, 95mm x 56mm, circa 1986.

Designed by Tommy Li Kam Fai.

Image from an editorial assignment for the Hong Kong Trade Development Council. Kasing

had full creative freedom on these projects.

Towards the end of the 80’s we attempted to set up another base in New York.

It was precisely at that time Wingo was reignited by his eastern identity, and

decided to use only Ka-sing, his Chinese name. I love my English name given by

my uncle and I wanted to keep it. So the company became Cameraworks, Kasing

& Holly. Oh, by the way, a little note on the name ‘Camera Work’, a name

Double-sided, 89mm x 53mm, circa 1989–90.

Image from Holly’s 89 • The Golden Lotus • Footsteps of June series.



Last stop

By the time we moved again, around the beginning of 1991, our name had a slight

change, to Ka-sing, Holly & Cameraworks. The studio moved to a much smaller

space at Prince Terrace, just 3 minutes walk from our old place. It would be our

last anchor in Hong Kong. The next, which would be in 1997, and our final move

in the city, would be across the oceans, over 7800 miles, to Kanata.

Rewinding back to Hong Kong in 1991, through a mortgage we bought a ground

floor flat of a four-storey building at number 5, Prince Terrace. It was the first

time we owned a permanent studio, though it was a bit small. In this small studio

we had a very productive period. In some miraculous ways, we’d done some

commercial assignments that could have required a much larger workplace.

Also at that time I was contacted by the US photo agency Black Star to shoot

corporate portraits in Asia, so we had to put two contacts in our name cards, one

in Hong Kong and one in the US. Upon closer look I am also reminded of another

interesting fact of the past - that was when we first started to use electronic mails.

They were slow, and not yet popular. In fact, today we’d take it as a joke about the

snail-crawling speed of the computer. Using Photoshop in those early days was a

pain in the neck, after each click and command for a task came a long wait, and

you had to kill time by resuming the novel you didn’t finish the night before.

Double-sided, 86mm x 112mm, circa 1992.

For this name card, the design used Holly’s transferred images from her photographs of a doll and

a mannequin, which were originally taken for editorial purpose. By the time we left Hong Kong we

gave the mannequin to Almond Chu, a friend and photographer.

Double-sided, 95mm x 51mm, circa 1992.

Features an image Ka-sing created for the cover of Lau Kin-Wai’s 1992 book On Art

Criticism.

Double-sided with center fold, 176mm x 44mm, circa 1992.

Upper: Image; Lower (inside): Contact information.



Single-sided, 88mm x 54mm, circa 1991–92.

Double-sided, 89mm x 57mm, circa 1993.

A Christmas card image combining Holly’s photogram and Ka-sing’s linework from his

Thinbit Studio series.

Our design began to use two symbols signalling two identities. “Star” for Ka-sing

because the character 昇 in his Chinese name is arise, and the star 星 has exactly the

same sound. For that reason, ‘star’ appeared in a lot of his photographs. A signature, in

his own words. The globe and circle were Holly’s.

Single-sided, 90mm x 44mm, circa 1991–92.

“Photo-illustration” was a common term at the time, referring to photography

incorporating graphic elements—distinct from street, product, or tabletop photography.

Single-sided, 89mm x 53mm, circa 1994–95.

Portrait of Jinx by Holly, originally created for her friend/client Lilian Tang’s Christmas

card. It sparked the long-running Hollian Thesaurus series (1994–2024).



In this street level studio, the terrace stretched about thirty feet across, to the

opposite street facing another row of buildings with different heights. Due to

the inaccessibility of any commutable street, car traffic was non-existing. That

meant we could enjoy the extra open space outside our studio. That was also the

reason why we loved this place, quiet and quite peaceful. Simultaneously this

was the place where we produced the first contemporary photography magazine of

Hong Kong - NuNaHeDuo (Dislocation 1992-1999), and developed the concept

of marketing Hong Kong photography through the setting up of The Original

Photograph Club (1994-1999), released limited editions from The OP Print

Program as OP editions. But before the OP editions, we used the initial name

Cameraworks edition, with a logo designed by David Lui. We met David in New

York, and after working there for a while he returned to Hong Kong to continue

his career. The name Cameraworks edition was used for a very short period

before replaced by OP editions.

Single-sided, 89mm x 54mm, circa 1995.

One of four images Ka-sing created for the 1995 OP Editions catalogue. The “X” is a

recurring motif in his work.

Double-sided, 85mm x 51mm, circa 1994.

CameraworksEdition was used briefly. By 1995 we began to use the identity of OP.

Single-sided, 88mm x 53mm, circa 1995.

A rare card printed but never used. McCulloch left Hong Kong for family matters; the

artist project didn’t happen. However, we began representing other Hong Kong artists.



Single-sided, 88mm x 54mm, circa 1996.

Images on this OP card series were photograms by Holly, also used on the quarterly OP

Editions catalogue covers.

DIGI (1994-1996) was also another magazine we launched during the period. The

editorial content was purely images created by computer. As I was writing this

piece Ka-sing mentioned something quite interesting. He said his use of the ultra

wide-angle 20mm lens in the early days was largely influenced by the Polishborn

American photographer Ryszard Horowitz, and that was in the 70s. By the

time we created DIGI, Ryszard Horowitz was well known and recognized for his

surreal visual compositions and skill for digital imaging. So when he was invited

by the Hong Hong Institute of Professional Photographers to come to Hong Kong

as a judge, we grasped the chance to interview him, and published the content in

the second issue of DIGI. In contrast to Dislocation, the editorial content in DIGI

was more global, and gave us many opportunities to collaborate with overseas

artists.

Single-sided, 88mm x 50mm, circa 1995.

DIGI was published from 1994 to 1996.

Single-sided, 85mm x 50mm, circa 1996. NuNaHéDuo name card – Holly Lee.

Single-sided, 85mm x 50mm, circa 1996. NuNaHéDuo name card – Ka-sing Lee.

In the meanwhile I started a venture with Yoshiko, a Japanese writer and musical

event organizer based in Hong Kong, to promote and represent visual artists in

Asia. It didn’t work out as we did not have a focus, and we each had already too

much on our plates. By the second half of the 90s, the OP Club, which ran the

OP Print Program had considerable success in creating a photo market in Hong

Kong, and a year after we left the city, in January 1998 we felt confidently to

open the first photography gallery in Hong Kong - The OP fotogallery. In April

the same year NCP, NuNaHeDuo Centre of Photography was established with

partial funding from the Hong Kong Art Development Council. For over three

years, until 2001, it shared premises with NuNaHeDuo (Dislocation magazine),



OP Club, and OP fotogallery. Ka-sing presented the last exhibition with work

by Araki before we closed the gallery door in the latter part of 2001. He told me

that Kith Tsang, a Hong Kong established artist had kept the stone, which safeguarded

our door for many years, as a souvenir out of sentimental reason. Did

those years really vanish without a sigh?

Single-sided, 88mm x 50mm, circa 1995.

Years after the flood (from September 1997-)

When we first arrived in Ontario we lived in Markham, a 35 minutes drive from

downtown Toronto. I had my first name card printed with the Avery business

cards templates. Obviously they were not much of use as it didn’t even bother

me that I’d forgotten to put the phone number and email address on it. I was still

coordinating work of the magazine, the Club and the exhibition. After we moved

down to the first floor of Candy Factory Loft on Queen Street West and started

our operation there in 2000, we named our Toronto gallery as OP fotogallery for

half a year, working in sync with the Hong Kong gallery. But, our conception,

and our New York impression of a gallery inside a loft did not work out. First,

the loft management did not allow us to put any signboard on the pavement in

front of the building, or around, not even a sign on our flat window to indicate

that there’s a gallery. To buzz entry into the building was also a discouragement

to Torontonians, who are always overly discreet and easily intimidated. After six

months we changed the gallery name to LEE, Ka-Sing Gallery. We went a step

further to display a wood alphabet sculpture L E E (hand-made by Ka-sing) on

the ledge of our big window, so that people passing by would see it. It became

our standard gallery logo. In the beginning, we had no grand plan to establish a

big gallery business in Toronto, we just wanted to create a meeting point, where

photographers and photo enthusiasts could meet. Nevertheless we worked hard

to produce quality exhibitions, adding a bit of zing into the photography gallery

scene in Toronto.

Single-sided, 89mm x 54mm, circa 1997.

Who would need an address anymore, thought Ka-sing. He had become a bird in 1997,

flying between Hong Kong, Toronto and some other cities.

Single-sided, 89mm x 51mm, circa 1997.

A personal name card for Holly, created the year she moved to Toronto.



Single-sided, 89mm x 51mm, circa 2000.

Before setting up a gallery in Toronto, we had already begun to venture online in those

early Internet days. We set up our own web and database servers. In 2000, the gallery

began working on par with our web-based projects.

Our circumstances changed drastically in 2006. Despite an unpleasant incident,

failing to go to the already paid for Alternative Art Fair in New York, we

committed to something even more far-reaching - to move the gallery further

west of Queen Street West, to the corner of Peel and Gladstone, to a hundredyear

old three-storey building. We cracked our brains to find an appropriate

name, a signature for the newly-acquired place, which we felt rectangular,

solid and humongous compared to what we had before. We arrived at the name

INDEXG, as G stands for Gladstone, Index, a finger pointing to. It proved to

be another fogged name, hard to pronounce and hard to remember - that is if

you haven’t been told of the logic. In this building we’ve settled down, run two

floors of galleries for two years (2006-2008) and galleries on the ground floor for

twelve years (2006-2018), a B&B (2008-) until now. We came to know a lot of

good artists that are not in the front line or in the mainstream, many of whom are

just like us, from elsewhere. The diversity and quality of art is simply amazing.

Without much acknowledgement and recognition, no publicity and nobody writes

about them. These works just exist in their own circles and die one day. But what

does one expect from the dominant age of social dilemma? If you don’t socialize,

even serious writers are put out of place, and out of work. This era has created

many channels and opportunities for many people. But it’s an ocean with views

running amok, the amount of information is suffocating and drowning. The good,

the bad, the ugly, the beautiful are all on board.

Double-sided, 91mm x 54mm, circa 2000.

One of a series of promotional cards featuring artists we represented. Yao Jui-chung was

among them, and he held solo shows at our Toronto gallery.

Single-sided, 90mm x 50mm, circa 2001. Lee Ka-sing gallery at the Candy Factory Loft.

With main focus on representing noted artists in Asia. In our stable we carried artists

such as Nobuyoshi Araki, Yao Jui-chung, Leung Chi-wo, Narahashi Asako and Yau

Leung, as well as Canadian artists such as Diana Thorneycroft, P. Elaine Sharpe and

Balint Zsako.

Single-sided, 89mm x 50mm, circa 2006.

Lee Ka-sing gallery moved to 48, 50 Gladstone Avenue in 2006. The inaugural exhibition

“DOUBLE 6 -SIX OCCURRING DIALOGUE” occupied the two floors of the gallery spaces

in our newly owned building. Six pairs of artists: Anothermountainman, Bing Lee, Balint

Zsako, Henrik Drescher, Millie Chen, Lisa Cheung, P. Elaine Sharpe, Evergon, Diana

Thorneycroft, Frank Rodick, Asako Narahashi and Normand Rajotte.



Single-sided, 89mm x 51mm, 2017.

The gallery operated at Gladstone Avenue for two years. In 2008, the second floor was

converted into a B&B, while the gallery remained on the ground floor.

I really like Ka-sing’s recent name card (also it is his favourite) with the Chinese

name, the three characters Lee Ka-sing 李 家 昇 in calligraphy by Araki 荒 木 經

惟 . It reminded me of Tokyo, the bars Araki frequented and his karaokes. Like

his calligraphy, Araki really loves to sing and dance. I had the chance to join him

one evening in a bar and was forced to sing “Yesterday”, a Beatles song. But the

name OP belongs also to today, it only changed its definition after we came to

Canada, as nobody understands its meaning and significance, it is out of context.

That is also why we gave it new clothes, Ocean & Pounds, in return it gives us

sound and image. The other day, a man walked by our driveway and he stopped,

pointed to the licence plate of our Honda and asked, “I was always curious,

what does OP OP stand for?” And I said to him,”Oh it’s just a sound, like a

dog’s bark.” Or the ocean roars, I thought and smiled lightly. I wouldn’t want to

tell him the long story, I bury them in our heart beats, swimming in the ocean

and thrashing against edges of concrete piers, as dissolved memories, bit by bit,

washing away. (September 15, 2020)

Single-sided, 89mm x 51mm, 2017.

In 2015, the gallery was renamed GALLERY 50 and operated mainly as a rental space,

though we continued to present occasional in-house projects.

The ocean still pounds

We won’t give up. We’ll still contribute, self-publish and help others too. We’ll

share art like birds sharing their songs. There’re handful of projects awaiting. As

we continue to evolve, so do our name cards. With every card, it shows the little

twists and turns we’d taken, things we’d already done, left behind and forgotten.

Double-sided, 90mm x 50mm, circa 2007.

After closing our Hong Kong gallery, OP focused its operations in Toronto. We

incorporated under the name OCEAN & POUNDS. The gallery eventually ceased

operation in 2018, and we now have time to put our energy on the online shop, and to

develop a line of fine Print-on-demand publishing.



Single-sided, 88mm x 50mm, circa 2015–16.

Single-sided, 89mm x 51mm, 2017–present.

Back to basic. Ka-sing’s personal name card, used for several years. The Chinese

characters for his name is the calligraphy by his friend, and also an artist he represented

in the gallery days, Nobuyoshi Araki.

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