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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.