![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() He fled mainland China as a teenager in the wake of the Communist Revolution, only to find himself homeless and alone in Hong Kong. A jade-like amulet adorns the front and fabric birds, edged with gold thread, glint in the fluorescent light, their googly eyes jiggle maniacally as Chan gently handles the headpiece.īorn in Zhongshan, just across the Pearl River Estuary from Hong Kong, Chan has been creating ornate headdresses for over 70 years. The headdress is bedazzled with costume gems and drips with strings of faux pearls. Sitting atop this jumble is a magnificent Nine Phoenix Crown, fit for a Ming Empress. Wire, fabric, pliers and UHU glue sprawl across a table in front of him. “I work until six in the morning and rise at one or two in the afternoon.” The master has been busy this past night. “I eat, wake up and sleep very late,” he says. Peering through the translucent pinks and whites of plastic stretched to breaking point, it is possible to discern pompoms, beads and faux gemstones: the miscellany of Chan’s craft.Įnthroned in a high backed wooden chair, the sifu proffers a bowl of oatmeal, then makes a declaration. Clad in a singlet and slacks, Chan navigates a confusion of shopping bags festooning furniture and cramming every available space. Spirited from sleep, the master rubs his eyes and bids us to enter in his gruff but friendly manner. A commotion is heard as Chan, known in the operatic fraternity as Brother Yuen, comes to the door. ![]()
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