Usually when people think of galleries and gallerists, they tend to only see the glamor and the parties, Art Basel and big auction house events. But I wanted to take a moment to talk about a series of strange and magical events that have occurred over the past few years in the gallery I run with my wife, PHD Group. These moments are always humbling, and more than that, they remind me that our business can be a very spiritual one, deeply connected to Hong Kong and its history.

Let’s go back to December of last year, when I was faced with a problem. I had to travel back to the US to see my family, but those dates coincided with the last day of our exhibition at the time, for Hong Kong artist Christopher K. Ho. Usually, we make most of our sales on the first and last days of an exhibition. So naturally, I was feeling extremely nervous. It was my first time not being in the gallery for the end of an exhibition. I felt like I was taking a huge risk.  

Ever since moving to Hong Kong nine years ago, I have found myself turning to spirituality whenever I come up against something difficult or stressful. So in that moment, all the way in the East Coast of the US, I turned to our gallery’s patron saint, who happens to be none other than the late popstar and actor Leslie Cheung — or — as my wife’s family calls him, "Uncle Leslie". The family had been very close with Leslie when he was alive, which was of course, years ago now. I never met him, but I’ve always wished I could connect with him in another way. When my wife Ysabelle and I opened PHD Group, I felt our genuine cultural engagement with the city was worthy of his support, so I began to make little prayers to Uncle Leslie for his help. I’ve only ever done it occasionally, but he’s always come through, and that December was no exception.

As I went to sleep that night, I prayed to Uncle Leslie for help. “Please, Uncle Leslie, help our Associate Neil make his first sale. He needs this, the gallery needs this, please!” When I woke up in the morning I checked my phone. I saw a flurry of messages from my team. We had made a sale; but not just any sale. A well-known local celebrity had made a last-minute appointment to visit our gallery, walked in, and bought something. The celebrity happened to be one of Leslie Cheung’s former colleagues and had worked on several films with him. I was delirious with happiness. Had my prayers worked?

Another spiritual incident occurred only a few months after we first opened the gallery, in 2022. Inside the gallery, we have a room which we call The Study, where we display my wife’s late grandfather’s collection of rare coins, stones, and erotica. The gallery itself used to be my wife’s grandfather’s clubhouse, and we had found all these items in boxes when we were renovating the space. Who knows how long they had been tucked away for – maybe years – before being displayed again in our gallery.

One night, I received a very unusual call from our alarm company notifying me of movement inside the gallery. I had been fast asleep and was annoyed at being woken up, but more concerned about the potential of being robbed. I asked them if they could see anything on the security cameras, and after a pause, they said, “no.” But they kept telling me that their system was picking up on movement inside the gallery. I checked the time. It was 3am. My wife, waking up, also reminded me: today was Qing Ming, the traditional holiday where one honors ancestors.

I laughed and told the security company not to worry about it. I had a feeling that my wife’s grandfather was visiting us to look at his treasured objects again, now finally unearthed from their boxes. Ever since that day, my wife and I have taken special care of that room and we feel as if her grandfather’s spirit is watching over us, taking care of us and encouraging us to keep going.

The last occurrence I’d like to talk about happened very recently, just a few weeks ago. Every night after dinner my wife and I walk our dog in the neighborhood. That night was no exception, and we began our usual route, enjoying the cooler night air in the urban cityscape. Suddenly, in front of us we saw a white blur crash into a tree. It was a wild bird: a small egret. We watched as, ten feet in front of us, the bird became tangled in the branches, tried to release itself, and ended up falling out of the tree and hitting the ground.

My wife and I looked at each other, wondering whether to help this small egret, which seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. But just then, the bird miraculously stood up, shook itself off, and hopped a few times. I said to my wife: “Let it be” The bird took another step forward, and leapt into flight again, gliding off into the distance between the towering glass skyscrapers.

I couldn’t help but feel like this was a sign. More than three years into our business, after a series of ups and downs, we find ourselves facing our most difficult moment yet – every decision we make feels like it's make or break, and setback after setback has taken the wind out of our sails. It feels like we're crashing through that tree. But seeing that bird fall, wobble, and then fly again that night seemed to be a message of encouragement, telling me that even after falling you can stand up and take flight again. 

 

Stories like these seemed like superstition and make believe when I first moved here more than 9 years ago. But now, I find they define me. They help me understand my place and my journey. What I give to the city and what the city gives to me. I hope we can all open ourselves up to the city like this and find that we live among history, spirits, and other creatures who always show us the way forward.

On that note, I’d like to say a few words about the state of the city’s art scene. Institutions in Hong Kong like M+ and AsiaArtArchive have found a way to channel the city's energy into meaningful manifestations and projects that have global reach. However much of the city's scene is still struggling with understanding its place, position, and purpose. They could benefit from a shift in perspective and an opening up to possibilities. The scene in Hong Kong is still very much in development, and our institutions are still finding their way forward. But just like that egret, I know we'll all shake it off and find our way forward.

The song I chose today is Finite=Alright, a song by David Byrne first released in 1997. I find it to be a very grounding song, and funny enough it makes me think about Taoism. Hope you enjoy.