Reporters: Felicia Lam, Winkie Ng
Editors: Eve Lee, Soweon Park
City sketchers in Hong Kong record the scenery of the city highlighting heritage buildings with brushes and paint to preserve the history of Hong Kong. Noble Wong Chi-ho published a book with his painting collections in 2018, while others organise themselves into groups to sketch heritage buildings in different parts of Hong Kong.
Reporters: Chaelim Kim, Gloria Chan, Leung Pak-hei
Editors: Charlie Yip, Gloria Wei, Lynne Rao
As breakdancing has been selected as an official sport in the 2024 Paris Olympics, Hong Kong breakdancers are competing to become representatives of the Hong Kong team. But these passionate dancers also face challenges, such as lack of resources and government support.
Reporters: Ella Lang, Gabriella Lynn, Jack Deng, Ryan Li
Editors: Coco Zhang, Vivian Cao
Due to the pandemic and the Hong Kong national security law, more mainland Chinese postgraduate students have changed their destination to Hong Kong when planning to study abroad.
Reporter: Kajal Aidasani
Editors: Kelly Yu, Isaiah Hui
Subdivided flats tenants find an upcoming legislation that caps rental increase by 10 per cent starting from January 2022 useless. They think the city’s problem of unaffordable housing still remains and grassroots like themselves are not being offered with enough help.
Reporter: Angel Woo
Editor: Mandy Yim, Hayley Wong
Gordon Mathews, an anthropology professor and an American citizen chooses to stay in Hong Kong while lots of Hongkongers are leaving after the enactment of the national security law.
Fandom brings people together. The entertainment industry can be a source of strength, happiness and fond memories for many, as fans do stars chasing in cyber world, physical world and golden age of the world.
Our Periscope section explores fandom in Hong Kong and China who pursue idols in three different worlds. In Hong Kong, youngsters find comfort in old Cantopop as a wave of nostalgia hits, as the city is still clouded with a gloomy mood due to the pandemic and political depression. Fans of virtual idols in China meanwhile are growing in number in the cyber world, while the Chinese government has launched the recent Qinglang Campaign (清朗行動) to crack down online fan activities which boost traffic data for idols in the real world.
Virtual idol industry is expected to grow from RMB ¥3.46 billion (US $540 million) in 2020 to RMB¥6.22 billion (US $970 million) this year, according to Chinese data mining and analysis platform iiMedia Research.
But in the meantime, the Cyberspace Administration of China (CAC) launched Qinglang campaign to put an end to “chaos” involving online fan clubs on June 15, 2021. The CAC has banned five kinds of online fan activities, such as the contribution of money to idols and manipulation of social media comments, drawing mixed reactions from the fandom.
Longing for the golden age of old Hong Kong, many youngsters fall in love with late pop stars like Leslie Cheung and Anita Mui, who are cultural symbols of the city’s golden era. Varsity looks into how these Cantopop legends live in youngster’s hearts with their intoxicating charms.
This issue of Varsity also features stories about other various social issues. For example, the future of Hong Kong district council, cyberbullying and body shaming of youngsters in China, and the disappearance of feminism and LGBTQ+ accounts on Chinese social media.
Our team explores an emerging trend of using emoticons in South Korea, the initiative of time banks to build social capital, and the introduction of Cantonese characters in new digital typeface designs. Varsity also talks to local illustrator Choi Ming-sum, vendors at the Yau Ma Tei Fruit Market and the French community in Hong Kong.
Have an enjoyable read!
Kelly Yu
Managing Editor
Illustrator Choi Ming-sum, who goes by the name Choi Sum, shares how her drawings which were only meant to be the chicken soup for her own soul, have now blessed many souls.
By Kajal Aidasani
Hong Kong illustrator Choi Ming-sum, or better known as Choi Sum, has never thought her drawings can warm others’ hearts and help her carve out a career.
“I first started drawing because it was fun. Now, drawing means much more to me. It leads me to a state of mind called flow that I become fully immersed in drawing. This helps me meditate,” Choi says.
Choi’s drawings and her iconic sloth products were featured in ViuTV’s TV drama Single Papa starring Ronald Cheng Chung-kei and Maggie Cheung Ho-yee last winter.
The drama is about a single father learning to love himself and others after his wife passed away in an accident. Choi’s drawings were featured in a sketchbook left by the wife where she captured moments spent with her son. Choi’s sloth products were her son’s favourite toys.
It was Choi’s idea to add sloth elements to the drama. She has always loved drawing sloths and calls it a “self-portrait”.
“Sloths like to live in their own worlds and they are reluctant to work. They adopt a passive aggressive attitude when they feel powerless. That is what I often do too,” Choi says.
She believes one of the reasons her sloth products went viral is that many Hongkongers also shared this mentality – unwilling to work and to deal with the powerlessness in life.
Working on the TV drama aside from her full-time job, Choi felt overwhelmed when her work won praise from audiences. She received over 1,000 enquiries on Instagram about her illustration book and sloth products shown on television. Her Instagram account has reached over 13,900 followers as of early December.
“It is really beyond my imagination. The drama director spotted a drawing I gave my pregnant friend as a gift by accident. He then invited me to work together. I had never thought the audience would like to buy my artwork. But I am happy to go with the flow,” the 31-year-old illustrator says.
“Indeed, the sloth collection is the first milestone in my art journey. But I hope someday when people think of me, it would be more than just sloths,” she adds.
Choi fell in love with drawing when she was three and she studied visual arts in secondary school. She took a turn to study geography and resource management at the Chinese University of Hong Kong and cultural heritage at University College London. Drawing has always been her favourite pastime.
“While I studied in London, I was also a staff at the British Museum. I went to work an hour early with my own canvas and sat at the empty Parthenon Gallery full of Greek sculptures to draw freely,” Choi recalls.
“I draw for myself, and I never intend to impress anyone. Whenever I draw, I feel like I can clear my mind and stop thinking. Some people call it being in the zone. Drawing is my mental therapy. It has healing power and warmth,” she says.
Her picture book Prejudice and Pride about a pet cat’s journey with its owner from life to death was released this September. Choi says unlike most picture books published for children, her new book is for adults.
“We have many resources to take care of children but not adults. I find adults always claim to be fine when they are not. They are so used to suppressing their emotions. So I hope they can find peace and comfort from my book,” she says.
Choi is now in Taiwan since her husband is pursuing further education there. Apart from learning yoga, she devotes most of her time to a 365-day drawing project she posts online.
With ample time, Choi notes down her feelings every day and expresses them through creation. She finds it helpful in organizing her thoughts and understanding herself more.
The 365-day project started off merely as a challenge for herself on the first two days. But later Choi decided to share the drawings on her Instagram page to encourage others with her own experiences and encounters in life.
“Even if my drawings only warm others’ hearts for one minute, they have served their purpose,” she says.
Choi feels motivated every time her followers send messages to thank her for cheering up their lives. She believes this is the power of art, kindling positivity from one to another.
Looking back on her art journey, Choi finds it an unexpected adventure. She feels grateful since she has never thought of changing her career path from the heritage field to the creative industry.
“I did not expect the Centre for Architectural Heritage Research where I worked full-time to close suddenly so I could engage in full-time illustration work, nor did I expect to continue to run the Instagram page I launched for the TV drama and has a stirring effect on others. Things fall into place themselves,” she says.
Choi will return to Hong Kong in March to prepare for exhibitions, picture book productions, bazaars, and potential art classes. Though she is uncertain if she will be an illustrator for good, right now she is committed to drawing.
“Given Hong Kong’s plight and the global pandemic, we are all clouded by this gloomy mood. I will keep drawing. I think human beings are lonely, so I hope my drawings can keep myself and others company,” she says.
Edited by Linn Wu
Sub-edited by Mandy Yim
The dim pathway of pro-democracy district councilors
Leung Pak-hei
Wong Pit-man resigned from her post as Kwai Tsing district councilor on July 9 and is now member of a concern group “Tsing Yi People”.
“I will continue to actively participate in social affairs to help connect residents in the district,” Wong says.
She was one of the 327 pro-democracy district councilors who quitted after various local media outlets reported in July that the government might ask them to repay salaries they received if their oath to pledge allegiance to the Hong Kong government was declared invalid.
District councilors, same as senior government officials, legislators and judges, are required to swear to uphold the Basic Law and pledge allegiance to the city to ensure they are sufficiently patriotic following Beijing’s imposition of the national security law in June 2020.
Wong’s fear of being asked by the government to repay salaries and reimbursed expenses was proven true.
Kwok Tin-lap, a former Kowloon City district councilor from the Democratic Party, who was unseated on September 29 after his oath to pledge allegiance to the SAR government was declared invalid. He revealed on October 14 that the Home Affairs Bureau required him to pay back over HK$110,000 worth of expenses.
As of now, Kwok is the only former councilor being asked to pay back expenses.
Kwok stated in a Facebook post on October 22 that he would continue to communicate with the Home Affairs Bureau and reserve all legal rights on this incident. But on November 12 he said he left Hong Kong “owing to personal reasons”, adding he would be back “sometime in the future”.
The city’s District Council, envisioned as advisory bodies for the government at the municipal level, became a stronghold for the opposition camp following a landslide win in the 2019 elections, which took place at the height of that year’s anti-government protests.
Among the 452 elected councilors, 389 were from the pro-democracy camp.
Only 62 of the pro-democracy councilors remain in the council now. The large number of resignations and disqualifications means that many district councils have too few members to properly function. In the Central and Western District Council, where there were originally 15 councilors, only three remain now.
Those Who Left
Wong is angered by how the government has made use of the oath taking procedure to remove elected pro-democracy councilors.
“I think this is shameful. It shows that the government is unwilling to accept opposition and will do everything in their power to eliminate opposing views, even when our views are solid and reflect public opinion,” she says.
Wong points out it is more challenging to deal with district affairs without the official title of “district councilor”.
“Now we can only focus on general district issues, such as buses being late, instead of being able to take care of resident’s wellbeing, such as air conditioning in their flats,” she says.
“It is also harder to follow up issues. A bus company used to respond quickly to our enquiries but now it is very difficult to get a reply,” she continues.
Wong thinks it is meaningless for democrats to participate in future district council elections as the government screens candidates basing on their political beliefs.
“I think this is shameful. It shows that the government is unwilling to accept opposition and will do everything in their power to eliminate opposing views, even when our views are solid and reflect public opinion,”
Those Who Remain
Some pro-democracy district councilors such as Yuen Hoi-man, though passed the oath-taking procedure, are also feeling gloomy about the council’s future.
“The conditions for disqualification are unclear. This gives the government the power to remove a district councilor at any time,” Yuen, who has been a district councilor in Sham Shui Po since 2015, says.
He adds that some councilors’ oath to pledge allegiance to the government was declared invalid without a legitimate reason, and the government did not accept their explanations when they argued for their cases. The government even has accused some councilors of conducting actions that they have not done.
“The conditions for disqualification are unclear. This gives the government the power to remove a district councilor at any time,”
Yuen also criticizes the government of not holding by-elections to replace the resigned or disqualified councilors.
“This shows that the government does not value the district council and does not respect public opinion. This is unfair to Hong Kong people. The government is also imposing more restrictions over district council operations, such as stripping away its power to approve funds,” the councilor says.
The Financial Services and the Treasury Bureau suggested to the Legislative Council’s Financial Committee on October 15 to transfer the District Council’s power to fund minor work projects to other government departments such as the Home Affairs Department.
Yuen says he will still voice opinion on issues such as consumers’ rights and vaccination. But he will be more wary when dealing with political issues.
“The National Security Law, which is vaguely drafted, has generated worries and fear. But I will still express views on issues about human rights and social distancing policy,” the councilor explains.
He also states he will continue to distribute candles to commemorate the 1989 Tiananmen Incident.
“This shows that the government does not value the district council and does not respect public opinion.”
The Future of the District Council
Ma Ngok, an associate professor from the Chinese University of Hong Kong’s Department of Government and Public Administration, says some district councils are paralyzed as many councilors have resigned or been disqualified.
“Under such circumstances, the government has the responsibility to organize by-elections. But the government has refused to do so because they fear that candidates from the pro-democracy camp may win many seats in the elections,” Ma says.
He also points out that the government has tightened control over the District Council by stripping away the councils’ power to approve funds to avoid political trouble.
Ma believes that democrats can no longer use the district council as a stepping stone to win seats in the Legislative Council and can only focus on dealing with district affairs.
“But the government has refused to do so because they fear that candidates from the pro-democracy camp may win many seats in the elections,”
Election System Overhaul In The Future?
Lau Siu-kai, vice-president of the semi-official Chinese Association of Hong Kong and Macau Studies, says he is unfamiliar with the subject, when responding to Varsity’s request for an interview.
But when speaking to local media on September 15, he said reforming the district council will be inevitable to prevent from becoming a platform for political struggle.
Executive Council convenor Bernard Chan admitted on March 10 that overhauling the district council would wipe out the city’s democratic development since the handover, but he stressed it would be needed to “give confidence to the Central Government that ‘One County, Two Systems’ could carry on”.
Liz Truss, foreign secretary of the United Kingdom, issued a statement objecting to the disqualification of district councilors on October 21. She said she was “deeply concerned” about the development and urged the Hong Kong government to “uphold freedom of speech and allow the public a genuine choice of political representatives”.
The Hong Kong government responded on October 22 that the oath-taking of district councilors was “conducted in full compliance to the Basic Law”, and “strongly deplores and condemns” the smearing and unfair comments by foreign governments.
Changes in the District Council electoral system
| 1982 | First District Council Election: All citizen aged 21 or above and had lived in Hong Kong for at least seven years are eligible to vote. |
| 1985 | Government officials no longer took office as district councilors. |
| 1994 | Governor Chris Patten’s reform: Most appointed seats abolished (except for 27 seats ex-officio members for Rural Committee Chairmen in the New Territories). Almost all directly elected seats adopted “single-seat, single-vote system”, voting age reduced from 21 to 18. |
| 1999 | Increased number of directly elected seats to 390 but reinstated 102 “appointed seats”. |
| 2016 | Most appointed seats abolished (except for 27 seats ex-officio members for Rural Committee Chairmen in the New Territories). Total voter turnout in the 2015 District Council Election was around 47 percent. |
| 2019 | Historic voter turnout of over 70 percent in the 2019 District Council Election: Pro-democracy camp won 389 out of 452 seats. |
| 2020-2021 | 327 pro-democracy district councilors left office due to resignations, disqualifications, and arrests. |
Edited by Lok Chung-yin
Sub-edited by Linn Wu
Emoticon is popular among Koreans for its cute and delicate way of delivering emotion.
By Chaelim Kim
Kim Kang-eun is an emoticon collector, and she has 33 series of different emoticons in her KakaoTalk account, the most popular instant messaging application in South Korea. As there are at least 24 emoticons in one series, she owns nearly 1,000 emoticons.
“My favourite emoticon is ‘I’m a university student’ series designed by Yurang. There are 24 animated emoticons in the series, featuring university life such as staying up late, doing assignments, skipping lectures, and stressing out because of grades.”
“It speaks my heart as a university student,” Kim says. She says emoticons help her express her emotion better than words.
“Emoticons can deliver delicate feelings that words cannot. Plus, they are very cute,” Kim adds.
Emoticon, or emotion icon, refers to simple artworks used in online communication. KakaoTalk, an application used by 46 million Koreans, launched its first official emoticon ‘Kakao Friends’ in November 2012.
According to Adobe’s ‘Report on Global Emoticon Trend’ published in July 2021, emoticon usage was 10 per cent higher in South Korea than the worldwide average. About 76 per cent of Koreans use emoticons instead of words in online communication.
Moon Jong-beum is the creator of the emoticon series ‘Platypus Ogu’. He studied pottery and started designing emoticons since 2017.
“I started designing emoticons after reading an article about emoticon designers making a fortune. I thought it was worth a try since I studied art in college,” the 31-year-old designer says.
Ogu is Moon’s most popular emoticon character and one of the most successful emoticon characters in KakaoTalk, with at least 30,000 series sold monthly. Each series is sold at 2,500 won (US $2.5). The series is very popular among young Koreans for its cute and simple design.
“Emoticons can deliver delicate feelings that words cannot.”
“Ogu was originally designed for a lamp. I thought the platypus tail resembles a lightbulb,” says Moon. “I turned it into an emoticon, as I thought it was cute too,” he says.
“I feel so happy because many people love Ogu. And I am happy too, as there is no cost such as rental spending and material cost when I design emoticons,” says Moon. “All I need is a tablet PC. The income also makes me feel happy,” he chuckles.
Moon shares that the hardest part of creating emoticons is giving them ‘emotions’. “Anger, for example, can be expressed in so many different ways. I have to find the right expression for each emoticon,” he says.
“I want to show something new when I create a new series,” says Moon. “I have created more than 20 Ogu series now. I do not want to reuse expressions that have been used before,” he adds.
Moon recommends his job to people who are patient and enjoy drawing. “You have to draw the same picture over and over again, so patience is crucial,” he says. “I draw at least 100 sketches for one series.”
Before an emoticon is available for sale in KakaoTalk Emoticon Shop, it has to go through rounds and rounds of evaluations by Kakao Emoticon Studio. “One of my emoticons was passed after being submitted 14 times,” says Moon.
The popularity of emoticons allows some successful emoticon designers to expand their business such as mobile games, merchandises, snacks, clothing and so on. Moon also opened a pop-up store in May 2019 and sold stationery products and small cushions that have Ogu on them.
Moon’s creation, Ogu, started from a lamp, then an emoticon, and soon it will be a game character. He is currently launching a mobile game featuring Ogu.
“I am developing the game for franchising Ogu,” says Moon. “Mario and Pikachu were first introduced as game characters and are now known worldwide,” he says.
“I hope Ogu can be the ‘Snoopy’ of Korea, giving heart-warming messages and love to all generations,” he says.
Professor Yun Min Hie, who researches formative arts in the College of Art and Design of Kyung Hee University, says emoticon is not a new creation.
“Images were used to deliver meanings before language was used. Emoticon may seem like a fairly new concept, but its origin goes back to the ancient time,” she says.
Yun points out that emoticons were first used in the 1990s in South Korea when PC communication emerged.
“People began using symbols like ^^ and -.- to represent facial expressions. That is the origin of the modern emoticon in Korea,” Yun says.
“Koreans call themselves ‘the people of jest’. We like to find humour in everyday life, even in bad situations. Emoticon fits just right with the Korean lifestyle by making the conversation funnier,” Yun says.
Yun believes that the emoticon industry will stay prosperous. “Emoticon industry is run by KakaoTalk and is related to many other businesses.”
“There is no limit in the growth of the emoticon industry,” says Yun. “It is diverse, it is effective, and it is cute.”
“Emoticon fits just right with the Korean lifestyle by making the conversation funnier.”
Edited by Soweon Park
Sub-edited by Eve Lee
Virtual idol industry is booming in China, attracting millions of fans who chat and play with their idols online
By Ella Lang
Li Jingyuan became a fan of A-SOUL this April, after accidentally clicking into their live streaming channel on BiliBili, a Chinese video-sharing platform. “It was interesting to watch their live streaming,” Li says.
“They read fans’ live comments, chat with fans, and play games designed for interaction with fans when live streaming. I feel like I am a close friend of theirs,” the Year Two university student says.
Debuted on December 11, 2020, A-SOUL is a virtual girl group created by Yuehua Entertainment and technologically assisted by ByteDance. The group has five members, who are Ava, Bella, Carol, Diana, and Eileen.
The virtual girl group has 288,000 fans on BiliBili. Their latest single Super Sensitive was released on May 1, 2021,and it received over 4 million views and 156,000 likes on BiliBili as of December 6, 2021.
Though Li is a student with no income, he has spent approximately RMB ¥1,500 (US $235) from his pocket money on buying animation merchandises including a fan-made doll and virtual presents on BiliBili.
Recognising himself as an animation, comics, and games (ACG) lover, Li pays very little attention to real Chinese stars. He says A-SOUL is his first and only idol.
“If A-SOUL were real human beings, I probably would not have become their fan,” Li says.
“Real idols’ fan groups are too alienating. For example, raising funds through personal channels, voting from day to night, and battling with other fan groups. And here comes the Qinglang campaign to regulate them. I feel lucky to be in a harmonious and peaceful fan community,” he adds.
The Qinglang campaign was introduced by the Cyberspace Administration of China in June to regulate “chaotic” online fan club activities.
Apart from A-SOUL, a new wave of China-born virtual stars is emerging, such as Yousa from BiliBili or Xing Tong (星瞳), a virtual idol from Tencent.
Virtual idols can be roughly divided into two categories, both using avatars as performance fronts. One is a virtual singer, represented by Luo Tianyi (洛天依) and Hatsune Miku (初音未來). Their vocals are synthesised using Yamaha’s Vocaloid, a voice synthesiser software, which allows users to pay for voice database and compose songs.
The other type is a virtual Youtuber or virtual live streamer like A-SOUL. Behind the virtual idol, there is a real human actor who never shows up on camera. By using motion capture technology or software, the actor’s movements and expressions are reflected on the virtual image.
The scale of the virtual idol industry in China increased 70.3 per cent year on year to RMB ¥3.46 billion (US $540 million) in 2020. It is predicted to reach RMB ¥6.22 billion (US $970 million) this year, according to Chinese data mining and analysis platform iiMedia Research.
Love across Screens
Alex Guo became a fan of A-SOUL after watching its member Diana’s birthday live streaming on March 7, which was his first click on A-SOUL’s live channel.
“I was impressed by the heart-to-heart communication between Diana and fans. I became her fan when she read letters from fans and shed tears,” Guo says.
So far, Guo has spent RMB ¥1,000 (US $156) on buying animation merchandises and virtual presents. He uploaded A-SOUL’s spoof videos on BiliBili in June and August 2021, which attracted 970,000 total views as of December 7, 2021.
“In fact, A-SOUL’s appearance,vocal and dance skills are not outstanding compared to other virtual Youtubers. But they continue to improve. I am glad to witness their progress,” Guo says.
In the fan group, some fans produce songs for virtual singers. Steven Tan, a fan of the first Mandarin-speaking virtual singer Luo Tianyi, is one of them.
“As a composer with no reputation and not enough budget, it was difficult to find a singer for my compositions. So I thought virtual singer was a good choice,” he says.
Tan bought three virtual singers’ vocal databases, each at a price of around RMB ¥500 (US $79). He composed 36 songs and released five albums. All songs were sung by virtual singers.
“I think virtual singers can overcome the limitations of real singers. Virtual singers never get tired, and they can reach a very high pitch,” Tan says.
“A virtual singer can sing thousands of songs in a month because its vocal database is accessible to anyone who pays. But it may take months for a real singer to release one song,” he adds.
“I think virtual singers can overcome the limitations of real singers. Virtual singers never get tired, and they can reach a very high pitch,” Tan says.
Still a Long Way to Go
Anthony Fung Ying-him, professor of the School of Journalism and Communication at the Chinese University of Hong Kong, thinks virtual idols in China have a bright future.
“The Qinglang Campaign influences real stars by measures such as shutting down accounts and cracking down on fan activities, but it will not affect virtual idols and their fans. This helps the virtual idol industry to grow,” he says.
Fung points out that the core attraction of virtual idols is the interaction between fans and idols. “Virtual idol fans can chat, play games with, and produce content for their idols. It is almost impossible for real idol fans to approach their idols,” he says.
“But there is still a long way to go for virtual idols to replace real idols. It is hard for virtual idols to reach diverse groups of people because it is essentially a kind of subculture,” Fung adds.
Edited by Eve Lee
Edited by Eve Lee
Sub-edited by Lynne Rao
