During its heyday in the 1950s and 1960s, Lung Wah Hotel was a converted Spanish Revival villa that offers a tree-lined shelter from the hustle and bustle of city life, close to the bay and surrounded by parks of Hong Kong’s new territory.
The winding staircase, flanked by red lanterns, leads to a huge Chinese-style garden. On summer weekends, people gather in the Mahon race under a pavilion as the kids play near the sandbox and swing. The film was once shot there, with Bruce Lee, the most famous patron, working on martial arts on the rooftops.
In the decades since then, hotels have stopped renting rooms because new fire regulations will require upgrading them. The surrounding rice fields were developed into middle-class housing. The restaurant is still showing up with famous grilled pigeons, but it has been working hard to fill the wooden finish restaurant as the new police station in the 1970s has requisitioned a new police station.
Now, by leaning towards the past, the action has the opportunity to acquire a new lease of life. An unused teahouse on the property has been reshaped into Hong Kong Radiance, a hands-on museum that attempts to recreate the vibrant slice of life in the city as it transitions from the towns of post-war factories to the production of clothing, electronics and plastics, transforms into a shiny financial center and connects the east and west.
John Wu, a graphic designer and renowned local collector who curated the space, said he wanted it to be like a movie suit, with a cohesive palette in every corner.
He said his goal is to revive memories for older visitors, while also inspiring the younger generation. When he is held, he often draws attention to unique details, such as encouraging visitors to feel the solidity of the wood. “Only in this way can these objects have a second life,” he said in an interview.
The dusty antique shop has long been the city’s fixtures, but new businesses (many run by Gen-Z and Millennial owners) (many run by Gen-Z and Millennial owners) are trying to master aesthetics quickly and try to do aesthetics and everyday objects from a recent modern person, before the British returned former Colony to China in 1997.
Many residents regarded the 1980s as the golden age of Hong Kong culture, when locally produced movies, TV shows and music called Cantopop, singing in Cantonese and was very popular at home and abroad. Its entertainment success is a place of pride, closely linked to the city’s identity as an international metropolis, and an opportunity for dreamers and courage and wisdom to pursue them. But imports from mainland China, South Korea, Japan and Taiwan have led to a fading out of Hong Kong's popular culture over decades.
The wave of nostalgia coincides with the Chinese government's efforts to redefine Hong Kong's identity after protracted anti-government protests, which led to the 2020 Beijing crackdown and the implementation of the National Security Law. Since then, authorities have revised the history museum and rewrited textbooks to comply with the official narrative in Beijing.
“Our generation has fantasies about the past,” said 30-year-old interior designer Connie Li, who visited the museum in a recent afternoon. “It happened too quickly, but in these spaces we can find escapes in so-called glorious times and find our roots.”
Towards the recent past, the city’s Tourism Commission organized an exhibition related to last year’s hit “The Warriors’ Twilight: The Walls,” a martial arts action film that produced Hong Kong in the 1980s. Visitors are immersed in the film’s “aesthetic atmosphere”, including barber shops, tea stalls and skeleton-set clinics.
In Hong Kong Radiance, guests can freely read through a dresser filled with novels, games and family photo albums. It includes an office for a herbal home flanked by antique reels, and a convenience store with a retro jukebox, crates filled with soda bottles and vintage ice cream shower tub. A room recreates a chaotic working-class house with a Maun table, a singer sewing machine and a bunk bed with a suitcase.
Mr. Wu, 55, started collecting Japanese and Western items at a young age, but has been focusing on Hong Kong design in recent years because he believes they reflect the city’s unique history and character. He is known for his design collection by Henry Steiner, whose works define Hong Kong's most famous brands, such as the HSBC logo.
In 2023, Mr. Wu worked with two other enthusiasts he met online – Pan Tse, a maintenance worker and Tiger NG, a logistics worker who is passionate about cleaning up abandoned lots – to help elderly residents move out an old house that has been demolished.
The people were allowed to keep furniture and souvenirs from about 30 families in their storage units, hoping to show them to the public one day. They tried to find space in industrial buildings to build a mini moos, but the rent was high.
News of their volunteer work spread, and in 2024, the owner of the hotel, Mary Chung, reached out to classify through the sprawling recording equipment, musical instruments and books piled up on the property.
Built in the 1930s, it was her family's vacation home until the Japanese army was requisitioned during World War II. In 1951, Chungs was transformed into a small hotel with twelve rooms. Because it is a short drive from the academic institution becoming an academic institution of the University of Hong Kong, it often transfers people who teach there, including martial arts writer Kim Yong.
There are poetry readings and live music, and even a recording studio used by Guangdong opera singers. The film crew was allowed to shoot there – the actors also signed in.
But as the region develops into a densely populated suburb, business gradually weakens and loses its rural characteristics. After the government took over the adjacent electric railway, access became more difficult.
The hotel ceased operations in 1985, but the restaurant has been with local customers, decorated with black and white photos of the stars and displayed business posters. It almost folded during the Covid pandemic, and Mrs. Chung was forced to reduce her 200 employees to a minority.
Last year, she reached an agreement with Mr. Wu's group that came in months to clean up the teahouse and move its chaos to other rooms in the hotel. The cars couldn’t stop outside the hotel, so they provided help to their friends and family to help drag the box across the sidewalk and winding steps.
Since opening last fall, Hong Kong Radas has become a popular field trip destination for schools and senior groups.
On the recent day, dozens of silver-haired tourists took turns to slam the tiles on the Mahjong table with the soft dining table tiles. Some people stroll on the ground, reminiscent of their visit when they were young, when the restaurant charged only 4 signature pigeons in Hong Kong dollars (about 50 cents) (now $12). Some even broke into Cantonese when they recalled live performances.
Chung has been looking for new ways to attract tourists, so considering showing more old items from the hotel in the garden's Teahouse, close to the cage with three peacocks in the cage.
“Lung size is part of Hong Kong's collective memory,” she said in an interview.
