Testament 3 - 10
Hong Kong Type #16
10.
On Saturday afternoon, I went to participate in a letterpress printing experience workshop. I previously brought back a batch of movable type and typesetting tools from my grandfather’s old house, but I didn’t know how to operate them, so they were of no use. When I found out about this workshop, I immediately signed up.
The workshop was held in the print art studio, hosted by Master Lok, with about 20 participants all in their teens and twenties. Master Lok first explained the principles of letterpress printing, the construction and characteristics of movable type, and the tools used for typesetting. She then demonstrated on the spot how to assemble movable type and symbols, adding “guads” as spaces, lead strips for line breaks, and H-shaped pieces to fill blank spaces, all embedded within the frame and locked with a special key. In this way, the plate can be loaded into the printing press for inking and paper insertion for printing.
It’s a pity that because everyone was a novice and time was limited, we could only produce very small prints. The printing machine we used was the small Adana hand-operated one, the same as that I had at home. I didn’t get the chance to use the Heidelberg windmill platen press, which was somewhat disappointing.
Among the participants was a fellow major from university, a year junior to me, who sported a mushroom-like hairstyle. I wasn’t familiar with him, but we once took a Hong Kong literature class together. Maybe it was his hairstyle that made him stand out even with a mask on, that I recognized him instantly among the participants. My natural reaction was to lower my head and pretend not to see him, but he keenly recognized me and enthusiastically waved at me. I had no choice but to walk over and sit next to him.
The pen name of the boy was called Yixisi, which was said to be taken from the names of Liu Yichang, Xixi and Ye Si, the three most important Hong Kong writers. He was a quite famous creator in the department, having won the Youth Literature Award, so I only remembered his pen name. In fact, he also often referred to himself by his pen name and seldom used his real name.
Yixisi welcomed me with an overjoyed look, helping me pull out my chair and unnecessarily moving his pencil case on the table to make space for me. I thanked him in a low voice and sat down awkwardly. He came closer cordially, inquiring about my recent circumstances, saying that everyone was concerned about me and looking forward to my return to class. I knew he only said so out of kindness. I didn’t have many friends in the department, no one would notice my absence. It didn’t bother me though. I vaguely answered his inquiries, thankfully the workshop started soon after.
Every participant was required to design a layout with their chosen text, accompanied by bordering ornaments or decorative symbols, printed onto card paper the size of a postcard. As there were two hand-cranked printing machines, one with green ink and the other with gold ink, the border and the text in the center could be printed separately, creating bi-color works. Master Lok also taught us how to pick out characters on the type shelves. This is what is meant by the term “picking the types.”
I thought for a long time but couldn’t come up with any text to assemble. Then, I had a sudden inspiration. I recalled two lines of poetry by Ye Si which were related to rubbings and immediately wrote them down on the sketch paper: “A dialogue of negotiation between paper and stone/ The transition of ink color from black to silver-grey.” Yixisi leaned over and upon seeing these two lines, immediately cited the source, proving himself to be a true 1/3 disciple of Ye Si. As for himself, wanting to showcase his creativity, he insisted on writing a small poem on the spot. While he racked his brains, I headed out to pick up the necessary characters. Knowing full well my lack of artistic sense, I didn’t add any embellishments, simply choosing a grid frame, and the piece was done.
After much effort, Yixisi finally completed his masterpiece and made more than ten prints, planning to give them to his literary friends. He gave one to me as a keepsake, and naturally, I also gave one of mine back to him. He waved his head and read the poetry of Ye Si with great enthusiasm. As we were just about to step out of the studio, we happened to see Miss Yung and Teacher Bei coming out from the office, deeply engrossed in their conversation.
Teacher Bei saw me and showed a surprised expression, but it seemed as if Miss Yung had expected it, and she said:
“Is the workshop over? I’m going to have a cup of tea with Bei, do you want to join us?”
I instinctively declined, saying, “No, you must have things to discuss, I don’t want to interrupt.”
Miss Yung waved her hand generously and said, “What’s to interrupt? Don’t be shy! Come, let me treat you to tea!”
She turned to look at Yixisi next to me, even before she could speak, he took the initiative to introduce himself:
“My name is Yixisi, I’m Sun Fei’s university classmate.”
“So you’re a friend! Join us then!” Mis Yung invited him enthusiastically.
With a cheerful look, Yixisi nodded obediently as if following an order. He walked alongside me, following the two adults. I didn’t say anything, just feeling a bit puzzled. On the way to the coffee shop downstairs, I told him that these two people in front were Hong Kong printmakers. One of them was the head of the Print Art Workshop, the other was my former art teacher. He nodded respectfully, as if he had met some important figures.
Sitting down in the coffee shop, Miss Yung told Teacher Bei that I had been a great help to her, collecting a lot of useful information. I thought I should provide some explanation to Yixisi, so I briefly introduced the details of the exhibition. He looked very interested, and asked MissYung if there was anything he could help with. He mentioned that his university term had ended and he was free during summer vacation, suggesting that it would be nice if he could do something meaningful.
Surprisingly, Miss Yung agreed readily after giving it a little thought. She divided the exhibition texts into four sections: I was in charge of the early movable type printing and the section on Hong Kong Type, she took care of the section on lithographic advertising drawings from the early twentieth century, Ah Lok was responsible for the part before the decline of movable type printing in the second half of the twentieth century, while Yixisi was in charge of the section on the younger generation’s preservation and revival of movable type printing. As if he had won the lottery, Yixisi jumped up in excitement and almost knocked over the drinks on the table. I couldn’t keep up with the pace of events and looked at them in bewilderment.
I only learned later on that Miss Yung had her own considerations for doing so, because she was simultaneously curating another Hong Kong printmaking retrospective exhibition, and the workload of the two combined was not small. Therefore, she was more than happy to recruit new hands to help. Speaking of the print art exhibition, Miss Yung had a heartfelt conversation with Teacher Bei, saying:
“Actually, you don’t necessarily need to submit new works, some of your old works are also very good, definitely worth showing.”
Teacher Bei rarely showed a look of anxiety and said, “Ah Yung, give me some time! I’ve already made up my mind, the sketches are almost done, I only need to start carving.”
“But didn’t you say before that you had finished a batch of prints? Why did you discard all of them later on?”
“That batch won’t do! At that time, I hadn’t yet figured out how to express that kind of emotion. I’ve started to get a handle on it recently.”
Miss Yung turned to us and explained as if she was giving us a lecture:
“Very few printmakers, like Ah Bei, still insist on using the most traditional woodblock printing technique to create artwork nowadays. Do you know? Printmaking has always been an art form that heavily relies on craftsmanship. It involves etching, woodcut, lithography, screen printing, or simply intaglio, relief, planographic, and stencil printing. Later on, some people even started to use photographic developing technology or digital technology to explore the possibilities of printmaking. Everyone is racking their brains to introduce new ideas in terms of color, texture, material and other technical aspects, and even crossover with other art forms. However, Ah Bei remains completely unmoved, always studying the oldest techniques single-mindedly and insists on using only black ink for pressing. I don’t know whether to call this stubborn insistence or steadfast commitment."
Teacher Bei just shook his head and laughed embarrassingly, saying, “Ah Yung, you’re exaggerating! We’ve known each other for so long, and you know that I’m actually a dumb person with little intelligence and inadequate imagination. Also, at this age, I’m old and outdated, lacking the ability to innovate. How can I compete with the younger generation? That’s why I keep sticking to old things! However, I have made up my mind to do my best, even within my limited abilities! Just like a bicycle can never compete with a racing car in speed, but it has its own limits. To reach this limit is a lifelong pursuit for a person, I suppose.”
Miss Yung shrugged resignedly, while Yixisi admired and bowed to his words to the extent that he almost knocked his head on the table. I heard a slight tremor in the voice of Teacher Bei, like a fine crack appearing in the throat. But thinking of his powerful image, I felt I was overthinking it.
After having afternoon tea, Miss Yung went back to the studio, and Teacher Bei said he still had some things to take care of, so he left in a hurry. I watched his tall figure leave with a sense of loss. Yixisi asked me if I had anywhere to go. I said I was tired and wanted to go home, so he asked where I lived. When I said North District, he looked as if he’d won a prize and said he lived in Tuen Mun, so he could drop me off on his way home. I couldn’t understand how Tuen Mun and the North District could be considered on the way, but I didn’t have the heart to refuse, so we took the metro together and then transferred to the East Rail.
While sitting in the carriage, we started talking about school. He asked me which professor I plan to write my graduation thesis with when I return next school year. I said Professor Xin, and he again reacted with an expression that was like he won a lottery, saying that he also plans to write with Professor Xin.
“If so, we could become classmates in the thesis-writing course,” he said.
He asked what topic I wanted to write on. I said that I hadn’t thought it through yet, then he mentioned his plan to write about animals in the works of Liu Yichang, Xixi, and Ye Si. I couldn’t recall what animals these famous authors had written about, but I didn’t question him. I even found his topic rather innovative.
“I have a Shiba Inu named Fox at home,” I told him casually.
"Really? What a coincidence! I have a pet hedgehog!” “
“What’s the point?”
“Fox and hedgehog go together! Haven’t you heard of it?”
I shook my head in ignorance. He enthusiastically said,
“How about I bring my hedgehog to visit your fox one day?”
“But I don’t have a fox, I keep a Shiba Inu at home, and he’s blind.”
“A blind dog? Isn’t it a guide dog?”
I thought his joke was a bit too much, so I kept silent and didn’t respond, but he said to himself:
“Of course you can’t keep a real fox, but a fake fox is still a fox, right?”
I was beginning to find this person somewhat silly, thankfully, we finally arrived at the station soon. I gathered all my courage to prevent him from alighting the train with me, telling him that there’s a direct bus to Tuen Mun at the next station, and it would be most convenient to change there. He agreed and watched me get off, squinting and waving goodbye. As soon as I turned around, I started to get angry at myself. There was nothing wrong with this guy called Yixisi. Why do I always have to respond to people’s kindness with indifference and retreat?
Perhaps it was the guilt in my heart that was causing mischief. When I encountered Ah Loi head-on after exiting the gate, and once again he ignored me, I made a move contrary to my usual behavior. I followed him and saw him walk into a small snack shop near the entrance of the mall. I lingered in the corridor outside, pretending to check my phone, sneaking a peek at him buying snacks like rice noodle rolls and fried stuff, and started devouring them at a small table in the shop. I surprised myself when I took a step to walk in. I stood next to him, suppressing the tremble in my voice, and asked:
“Are you Ah Sau?”
He couldn’t swallow the food in his mouth in time and couldn't speak, just staring at me. I dialed Ah Loi’s number on my phone and his phone rang. He glanced at the incoming call display, took a sip of bottled lemon tea, swallowed his food, cleared his throat, and asked:
“Are you a friend of Ah Loi?”
I nodded, but couldn't find the words to continue. Ah Sau raised an eyebrow, expressing hesitation:
“I'm not Ah Loi. What do you want?”
“I... I just wanted to say hello... Ah Sau.”
“Alright! You’re Sun Fei, right? Hello! Is that okay?”
Having said that, he put a piece of fish-stuffed green pepper into his mouth and chewed loudly. Seeing me standing there confused, he passed a white plastic bowl and asked:
“Want to eat? If you like it, take a piece. This skewer hasn’t been used before. It’s clean.”
I hastily waved my hand. He shook his head as if shaking off a mosquito, then picked up another piece of eggplant and put it into his mouth. Too much soy sauce dripped from the corner of his mouth, which he calmly wiped off with the back of his hand. Wondering whether to stay or leave, I tried to strike up a conversation:
“How’s your DSE exam going?”
He seemed to not understand for a moment. After pondering for a while, he finally burst out:
“You should ask that to Ah Loi. He’s the one who needs to retake. I’m not interested in these rubbish academic qualifications. Of course, I will try to assist him, at least not to trip him. A couple of years ago, I didn’t attend the exam which caused him to fail in Mathematics. But if it’s my turn, I can't guarantee how it would turn out. Ah Loi is the one who studies, Ah Sau knows nothing.”
Seeing that I was just listening without responding, he said again:
“Hey! Mute! What’s up?”
“Nothing, I just wanted to say hello to you.”
“What a weirdo!”
“I just hope that next time we bump into each other on the street, we can say hi.”
“That’s it?”
I bit my lip and nodded. Ah Sau slowed down his head shake this time, as if I was beyond help, and commented, “What a persistent person!”
I remembered the cards I printed at the workshop today were in my tote bag, so I pulled one out and wrote Ah Loi’s name on it with a ballpoint pen. I handed it to Ah Sau and asked:
“Could you please give this to Ah Loi for me?”
Ah Sau wiped the grease off his fingers on the hem of his T-shirt, took the card from me, and read the writing on it with a frown.
“What’s this gibberish? I can’t understand it at all.”
He then said reassuringly, "Okay, I’ll give it to him.”
“Sorry to trouble you!"
As I bowed and was about to leave, he stopped me and asked:
“Hey, are you Ah Loi’s girlfriend?”
I was taken aback and quickly denied it, saying:
“No, no! We’re just ordinary friends!”
Ah Sau suddenly burst into laughter and mumbled to himself:
“Ah Loi really knows how to choose. He picked a dimwit as his girlfriend!”
Blushing and overheated, I walked out of the snack bar, knowing I had made a fool of myself again. However, after a few steps, I felt a sense of relief wash over me. Even if I was being laughed at by Ah Sau, at least I wasn’t afraid of him. At least I had the courage to show people my goodwill. Somehow, this strangely felt a bit like atonement.
Support DungKai-cheung’s translation project, upgrade to paid subscription: