Spark Study Buddy (Challenger): Little Mermaid, Big Ben underwater sculptures raise awareness of climate change
Content provided by British Council
[1] A mermaid made of rescued metal scraps with hair fashioned out of red plastic tubes was lowered into the waters near Stockholm, Sweden, on a recent windy spring day.
[2] The sculpture looked like The Little Mermaid from Hans Christian Andersen's fairy tale, with a nod to Disney's 1989 film. It was joined underwater by artworks inspired by famous landmarks from around the world. These included the Leaning Tower of Pisa, Rio de Janeiro's Christ the Redeemer and the Statue of Liberty in New York.
[3] They are all part of the 'Atlantis' art project. It aims to 'create an underwater city of the world's most famous buildings', project manager Fredrik Johansson said. All the sculptures are made from scrap recovered by his organisation Hands2Ocean, which picks up rubbish dropped in the waters around Stockholm.
[4] Johansson said that in the six years he has been doing Hands2Ocean, they have collected 43 tonnes of batteries, 44 tonnes of electric scooters, 180 tonnes of tyres and more. In total, the organisation has picked up 400 tonnes of scrap.
[5] The Atlantis project mainly seeks to bring attention to the threat posed by rising ocean levels. 'All forecasts today say that the water will rise. When the glaciers melt, the water will rise 1.2 metres [four feet] in 80 years. Then the Seychelles will be gone, the Maldives are gone, Bangladesh is gone. We don't want to go that way,' Johansson said. 'Atlantis symbolises where we are heading today. When all these cities are under water, then we have a new Atlantis,' he added. Atlantis was a submerged island in Greek mythology.
[6] The artworks also include pieces inspired by London's Big Ben and New York's Empire State Building, complete with King Kong climbing the top. They will be submerged underwater for a year. 'Then we take them up to an auction where the money goes to continue this work,' Johansson said.
[7] One of the artists, Paul Svensson, is making a replica of Dubai's Burj Khalifa. It is the world's tallest building. 'This one will be called Beer Can Khalifa,' Svensson said with a smile as he stacked beer cans. 'I think the symbolism is very funny. It's the biggest bling-bling property we have in the world. In the ocean, the bling-bling we can find are beer cans flashing back at us,' he said. The artworks can be seen on the project's website and by divers.
Source: Agence France-Presse March 18
Questions
1. What materials was the mermaid made from according to paragraph 1? (2 marks)
2. In paragraph 2, what do the Leaning Tower of Pisa, Rio de Janeiro's Christ the Redeemer and the Statue of Liberty in New York have in common?
3. What do the numbers mentioned in paragraph 4 refer to?
(i) 44 tonnes
(ii) 400 tonnes
4. According to paragraph 5, Atlantis is a … in Greek mythology.
A. floating city
B. mountain range
C. submerged island
D. huge glacier
5. According to paragraph 5, what does Johansson believe will happen if ocean levels continue to rise?
6. Rewrite the following sentences in passive voice. The first one has been done for you as an example. (2 marks)
Example: Hands2Ocean collected scrap from Stockholm waters.
Passive voice: Scrap was collected from Stockholm waters by Hands2Ocean.
(i) Paul Svensson created the Beer Can Khalifa.
(ii) Johansson's team will submerge the artworks for one year.
Answers
1. recovered metal scraps and red plastic tubes
2. They are famous landmarks.
3. (i) the amount of electric scooters Hands2Ocean picked up; (ii) the total amount of scrap Hands2Ocean picked up (accept all similar answers)
4. C
5. places like the Seychelles, the Maldives, and Bangladesh will be submerged, leading to a new Atlantis
6. (i) The Beer Can Khalifa was created by Paul Svensson; (ii) The artworks will be submerged for one year by Johanssons' team.
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Asia Times
16-05-2025
- Asia Times
Lafcadio Hearn: the foreign correspondent as double agent
This is a story of how, a century and a quarter ago in Japan, a remarkable Anglo-Irish-Greek foreign correspondent called Lafcadio Hearn pulled off an unusual feat: He became admired not only by the readers he was writing for in America and Europe, who knew little about Japan, but also by the Japanese themselves, who knew rather a lot. He is no longer well known in Europe or America, except among specialists, but in Japan he remains an object of study, of admiration and even, for some, of veneration. How many foreign correspondents have museums dedicated to them in the countries about which they were writing? This is even more surprising than it may sound. The best foreign correspondents often end up annoying or at least irritating their hosts. After all, their job is to report what is going on, warts and all, and few governments or elites like the warts to be pointed out. Very often, foreign correspondents are the hardest reporters for governments to influence or bully, except by kicking them out altogether, but when that is done their writing either ceases or becomes less well-informed. That is what has been happening in recent years as foreign reporters have been pushed out of China, many of them moving to Taipei or Singapore. Foreign correspondents, if they stay a long time in the countries they are sent to and really get to know their hosts well, tend to earn the suspicion of their editors back home who worry that they may 'go native.' The fear is that their correspondent might become uncritical and cease to spot new stories. Plenty of excellent, long-standing correspondents have proved this fear unfounded. Walter Duranty. Photo: Ukrainian World Congress Nonetheless, perhaps the most notorious case of a correspondent who did go native is Walter Duranty, a Briton who was the New York Times's man in Moscow under Stalin, who won Pulitzer prizes for his coverage, and yet infamously dismissed reports of famine in Ukraine as nonsense. In the 2019 movie, 'Mr Jones', about the Welsh journalist Gareth Jones who did uncover the Holomodor, Duranty is depicted as a debauchee, even as a double agent. Moreover, in stable times, which in the news business means dull ones, another danger looms: foreign correspondents often find themselves looking for strange and unusual tales, for those are the sort of stories most likely to interest their bosses back home and to entertain the reader or viewer. Few host countries, however, like to be turned into freak shows in which the exotic becomes central to their apparent identity. And the farther away and less well-known the country is, the likelier that the freak-show treatment will be a common resort among foreign writers trying desperately to make a living. This is not meant to denigrate the foreign correspondent, which this author would never do – having served as one in both Brussels and Tokyo and having, as editor-in-chief of The Economist, benefited from the work of many fine practitioners of that craft. Rather, the temptation to focus on the odd is – to state an awkward reality – one that is particularly true for Japan and one that only well-informed and careful news editors back home can steer their correspondents away from. This is partly because Japan is a country replete with exotic stories – exotic at least from European and American points of view. But it is also because the quite conformist, don't-rock-the-boat culture of Japan tends to mitigate against a lively news agenda, boosting the incentive to seek out the colorful. The exoticiser who went native The Japan to which Lafcadio Hearn arrived by ship in 1890 from the United States, where he had been working as a journalist and author in Cincinnati and New Orleans, was of course a place very different from the country we know today. After two centuries of self-imposed isolation under the Tokugawa shogunate, Japan had in 1853 reluctantly opened up to European and American trade, technology and diplomacy and then suffered two turbulent, violent decades of civil war and disorder. With the restoration of the Japanese emperor at the helm of government in 1868 in a coup d'etat and the establishment in 1889 of a new constitution with the country's first ever parliament, albeit elected by a limited franchise, the country that greeted Hearn was also embarked on an urgent, determined strategy of modernization and Westernization, so as to heal domestic divisions and to stave off foreign threats. But to Westerners it was also wonderfully exotic, with an influx of Japan's art and design to Europe bringing about the late 19th century fad of Japonisme. You need only to watch Gilbert & Sullivan's 1885 comic opera, 'The Mikado,' to see how Japanese images could even then be translated and distorted in popular culture back home. Patrick Lafcadio Hearn was born in Greece in 1850 as the son of a Greek mother and Anglo-Irish father, whose marriage was later annulled – and then both parents in effect deserted him, leaving Lafcadio to be raised by relatives in Ireland and schooled in England. All that made him, arguably, a classic product of the British empire, albeit at the poor end of the range: somewhat stateless, with a mixed, perhaps confused, identity, but also able to make his way in the great country of stateless migrants of the era, the United States. He did so by getting work as a journalist, becoming a translator of French literature, and later by writing on topics as varied as Creole cuisine, West Indian slavery and Louisiana voodoo. Running out of employers and enthusiasm, especially in the aftermath of controversy surrounding his illegal marriage in Ohio to a black woman, Hearn then accepted a commission from Harper's magazine to travel to and write about Japan. The essential principles of Hearn's journalism, both in America and Japan, would be familiar to the many Tokyo correspondents today who are battling to get their stories published. Here is what he wrote about his approach, in a letter to a friend: I think a man must devote himself to one thing in order to succeed: so I have pledged me to the worship of the Odd, the Queer, the Strange, the Exotic, the Monstrous. It quite suits my temperament. To be fair, when in Japan Hearn did not only follow that aspect of his temperament. In a strict, modern sense, he also wasn't what we now think of as a foreign correspondent as he fell out with his editors at Harper's quite soon after arriving in Japan, had to find work teaching English, and managed to make money from his writing chiefly through getting books published rather than from newspapers or magazines. But in an era when such news reports as existed were sent by seaborne mail and when readers had little knowledge of the countries being written about, books frequently satisfied the need for information, understanding and entertainment that media of all kinds satisfy today. In his most well-known books, alongside the Odd and the Exotic he also sought to describe ordinary life in Japan. Quite a few books had by the 1890s already been written about Japan by Britons, Americans and other foreigners who had arrived before him, whether as diplomats, teachers, engineers or government advisers, but most were in effect travelers' tales rather than in-depth studies. Hearn's Glimpses of Unfamiliar Japan (1894) and Japan: An Attempt at Interpretation (1904) aimed both to paint a picture of Japanese society and to dig beneath the surface. Lafcadio Hearn (Yakumo Koizumi), his wife Setsuko Koizumi and one of their children. Photo: Lafcadio Hearn Memorial Museum Alongside those general works, however, Hearn also conveyed his versions of Japanese ghost stories, fairy tales and religion, mostly collected for him by the Japanese woman, Setsuko Koizumi, whom he married in 1891, a marriage which later led him to take a Japanese name, Yakumo Koizumi. Through his books Kokoro: Hints and Echoes of Japanese Inner Life (1896), In Ghostly Japan (1899) and Kwaidan: Stories and Studies of Strange Things (1904) he conveyed an image of a country steeped in the supernatural, one that blended the animist ideas of its Shinto religion with the more psychological spiritualism of Buddhism, and in which the real and the imagined seemed sometimes hard to tell apart. Contemporary western readers of Hearn, like audiences of Gilbert & Sullivan, will have thought of Japan as a mysterious place: partly wonderful, partly weird, partly entertaining. What Hearn also told them was that the Japanese were a people one could admire, one could be interested in – but whom one could never really understand properly. From Marco Polo to Sofia Coppola He lived in Japan for the last 14 years of his short life (he died in 1904 at 54 years old), took a Japanese name and built a Japanese family of four children with Setsuko, but never mastered the Japanese language. Arguably, he idealized Japan while always feeling it was impenetrably different from the Europe and America that he knew. Hearn was far from the first to view Japan as both different and exotic. Indeed 600 years earlier another sort of foreign correspondent, the Italian Marco Polo, had reported the existence of a country he called 'Zipangu,' or the land of gold, which he had never visited but had been told about during his visit to Beijing. 'The King's Palace,' said Travels of Marco Polo, 'is roofed with pure gold and his floors are paved in gold two fingers thick.' Perhaps we should blame Polo's ghostwriter, Rustichello da Pisa, for bigging up the rumor his employer had brought home with him. In modern times Polo's 'Zipangu' also came in handy when used as a term of abuse, by a group of Japanese who became angered by what they saw as stereotyped, misleading coverage in the New York Times in the mid-1990s by that newspaper's Tokyo correspondent, Nicholas Kristof. The group, who were themselves based in New York, used a blog and then a book, Japan Made in the USA, to attack Kristoff as a new peddler of what they saw as Zipangu myths. This was, admittedly, a period in which Japan's economy and hence self-confidence had taken quite a dive. A previously all-conquering stock market had crashed, banks wobbled and then new pain emerged in 1995 from a home-grown terrorist group, Aum Shinrikyo, which used Sarin nerve gas on the Tokyo underground to kill 13 people, and from a devastating earthquake that same year in Kobe in western Japan. Nerves were raw and perceived criticisms evidently unwelcome. Yet even at a less unsettled time, early in the new millennium, there came further evidence that a view of Japan as an exotic, even amusingly strange place could be unwelcome. I will illustrate this with an anecdote connecting Peter, now Lord, Mandelson and the filmmaker Sofia Coppola. In 2003, just after Coppola's film, 'Lost in Translation,' about characters played by Bill Murray and Scarlet Johanssen finding themselves adrift and befuddled in their lives and in Tokyo, came out I found myself attending a meeting of British and Japanese officials, scholars and businesspeople taking place in Britain and chaired by Peter Mandelson. When we gathered for the opening session, Mandelson tried to break the ice by mentioning 'Lost in Translation.' 'Wasn't it wonderful', I recall him saying. Some of the Brits nodded and chipped in. The Japanese looked stony-faced. Now, for some of the Japanese attendees the blank reaction might have been embarrassment or just caused by jetlag. But I realized later that there was another reason: Coppola's film had gone down like a lead balloon in Japan. Although her main topic was the not-quite love affair between the characters played by Murray and Johanssen, that story was set against a backdrop of Japanese exotica, or perhaps plain weirdness, ranging from a kooky whisky advert that Murray's character was filming to funny mispronunciations to a bizarre night-club. Japanese audiences and critics for the most part did not appreciate this. Some even found it racist. Why Hearn's stereotyping and racism were welcome On the face of it, Hearn's depictions of Japan in the late 19th century might also have gone down like a lead balloon. Indeed, they may have done so at first with Japanese diplomats who were trying to persuade westerners and the Japanese public alike that their country did not deserve to suffer under 'unequal treaties.' This was a country seeking to modernize itself, after all, and to make itself strong and sufficiently unified to fight wars against China (1895) and Russia (1904-05). Hearn did express some patriotic support for such Japanese nationalism, but at the same time his books idealized the Japan that was being left behind by a modernization of which he disapproved. Moreover, his view of Japan emphasised what he saw as inherent racial differences compared with Westerners rather than differences of circumstance or stages of development. He and the British mentor who had helped him find his first teaching job, a language scholar called Basil Hall Chamberlain, fell out in part over whether it was nature or nurture that explained Japan's cultural particularities. Lafcadio Hearn was stubbornly racist but also romantic. Crucially, he did not use his racial stereotyping to criticize or denigrate Japan but rather to praise it. We can speculate that he may have preferred racial explanations of cultural difference because he thought them likelier to be resilient against modernization. He showed what might be said to be a vital characteristic of the foreign correspondent as double agent: a strong sympathy for those about whom he was writing. His timing was also fortuitous. The era was one during which Japan was experiencing momentous and rapid change, but in which the Japanese government was also seeking to use tradition as a stabilizing force. Much the way the British historians Eric Hobsbawm and Terence Ranger portrayed The Invention of Tradition in Victorian Britain, the leaders of late 19th century Japan were reaching back to imperial rule and to the Shinto religion to shore up – some would say create – a Japanese national identity. A foreign writer such as Hearn, one with a strong sympathy for what he saw as traditional Japan, was therefore a useful validator. Not only did he help spread a positive view of his adopted country to his European and American readers, but he also helped reinforce the message the government was seeking to send to Japan itself. This may explain why, without apparent qualifications, Hearn landed a job teaching English literature at Tokyo Imperial University, which is still today (shorn since 1945 of the word 'imperial') the country's leading educational institution. Helping Hearn to stay in Japan and in a more prominent position than in his previous provincial teaching posts may have felt like a good idea. But even if there was no conspiracy to exploit Hearn, he was nonetheless extremely useful at a moment when Japan was going through something of an identity crisis. Something similar happened again, half a century later. During World War Two the US Office of War Information commissioned an American anthropologist, Ruth Benedict, to do a study of Japanese society and culture, initially as a 'know your enemy' project but which then in 1946 was published in book form as The Chrysanthemum and the Sword. Benedict's book remains on the reading lists of many foreigners moving to live in Japan. More remarkable is the fact that this book, by an American author who had never visited Japan, had by the late 1990s sold more than 2.3 million copies in Japanese translation, more than six times as many as it had sold in English. Defeat had brought a period of questioning of Japan's identity similar to that in the last decades of the nineteenth century. So, like Hearn's books, Benedict's study provided a sort of validation as well as offering an outsider's view to an uncertain people. Nonetheless, what is also surprising about that sense of validation is that Benedict's book, somewhat like some of Hearn's, can be considered guilty of summing up a large and complex nation with a series of sweeping generalizations – the most famous of which is of Japan being a 'shame culture' while the West is a 'guilt culture.' Plenty of academics have criticized Benedict's generalizations, just as Basil Hall Chamberlain criticized Hearn's. However, both Benedict and Hearn have nonetheless been embraced, notably by the strain of nationalist thought known as Nihonjinron: the study of Japaneseness, which began in 19th century Japan but which flourished especially after 1945. Generalize as much as you like, the Nihonjinron devotees seem to say – as long as you show how different, and special, the Japanese are compared with westerners. Patrick Lafcadio Hearn, the Anglo-Irish-Greek foreign correspondent, became a successful late 19th century double agent because he showed sympathy for Japanese society rather than lecturing or criticizing, because he helped shore up Japan's sense of identity during a period of turbulence and because his work supported the notion of Nihonjinron. The fact that he left a Japanese family behind him also helped greatly, for his descendants remain vital preservers of his legacy, notably the museum dedicated to him in Matsue, the provincial town in which he made his first family home. In recent years, his memory and legacy have also been celebrated and marked by exhibitions and events in Ireland, Greece, Cincinnati and New Orleans. The vividness of his writing has undoubtedly also helped. In the end, whether you agree or disagree with him, he marked out the subjects of his writing as being exceptional and different, which is what he was, too. Formerly editor-in-chief of The Economist, Bill Emmott is currently chairman of the Japan Society of the UK, the International Institute for Strategic Studies and the International Trade Institute. This essay, originally published by Engelsberg Ideas, is based on a lecture he gave in Dublin on April 12 as part of a series linked to an exhibition of new prints based on the Kwaidan ghost stories. Asia Times is republishing with kind permission.
South China Morning Post
04-05-2025
- South China Morning Post
Study Buddy (Challenger): Actors are regretting licensing their likeness to AI companies
Content provided by British Council Read the following text, and answer questions 1-9 below: [1] South Korean actor Simon Lee was stunned when he saw his likeness being used to promote questionable health cures on TikTok and Instagram, at times as a gynaecologist or a surgeon. He is one of scores of people who licensed their image to artificial intelligence (AI) marketing companies only to end up with the unpleasant surprise of seeing themselves featured in deepfakes, dubious adverts or even political propaganda. 'If it was a nice advertisement, it would've been fine. But it is such an obvious scam,' he said, adding that the terms of his contract prevented him from getting the videos removed. [2] Using one's image this way is cheaper than filming an actor and more realistic than an entirely AI-generated avatar. The technology allows firms to build catalogues of digital models to appear in videos that mainly promote products or services. [3] Solene Vasseur, a digital communications consultant, said this new form of advertising is fast and cheap compared with real-life production. It usually involves half a day's shooting, a green screen and a teleprompter. An actor displays a range of different emotions. Then, AI is used to make an avatar and have it say anything in various languages. [4] To make a video, Synthesia's customers select a face, a language, a tone – such as serious or playful – and insert the script. The whole process comes at a modest price: the ultrabasic version is free, while the pro version costs a few hundred euros. [5] Image-licensing contracts generally offer up to a few thousand euros, depending on duration and how well a person is known. But they can be filled with legal jargon and sometimes abusive clauses, and in their rush to make quick cash, some people have found it hard to fully understand what they were signing up for. [6] British actor and model Connor Yeates, who signed a three-year contract with Synthesia for €4,600 (HK$40,394), also encountered an unpleasant surprise in 2022. At the time, he was sleeping on a friend's sofa, he told British newspaper The Guardian. 'I don't have rich parents and needed the money,' he said. This seemed like a 'good opportunity'. But he then discovered his image had been used to promote Ibrahim Traore, the president of Burkina Faso, who took power in a coup in 2022. [7] While Synthesia has introduced new procedures, other platforms with less stringent rules have appeared on the market. 'The clients I've worked with didn't fully understand what they were agreeing to at the time,' said Alyssa Malchiodi, a lawyer specialising in business law. 'One major red flag is the use of broad and irrevocable language that gives the company full ownership or unrestricted rights to use a creator's voice, image and likeness across any medium,' she said. [8] Contracts often contain clauses considered abusive, Malchiodi added, such as worldwide, unlimited and irrevocable exploitation with no right of withdrawal. 'Technology is evolving faster than courts or legislatures can respond,' she said. Source: Agence France-Presse, April 19 Questions 1. In paragraph 1, why was Simon Lee stunned when he saw his likeness in advertisements? 2. According to paragraph 1, individuals whose images were used in misleading content … A. were unaware they had licensed their images. B. knowingly took part in the creation of deepfakes. C. had granted permission for their image to be used by AI marketing companies. D. all of the above 3. Paragraph 2 describes the … of AI in video production. A. creative limitations B. cost advantage C. ethical implications D. potential misuse 4. What does 'this new form of advertising' in paragraph 3 refer to? 5. Based on paragraph 3, why must an actor portray different emotions? 6. Find a word in paragraph 3 that refers to the digital representation created by AI. 7. What are some concerns about image-licensing contracts, according to paragraph 5? 8. In paragraph 6, why did the writer use the phrase 'sleeping on a friend's sofa' to describe Connor Yeates' situation when he signed the contract with Synthesia? 9. Which of the following best reflects Alyssa Malchiodi's statement, 'Technology is evolving faster than courts or legislatures can respond,' in paragraph 8? A. legal systems are currently ahead of technological advancements in AI B. the ethical debates surrounding AI are preventing legal progress C. legal and political bodies are guiding the trajectory of AI innovation D. the rapid pace of AI development is creating a lag in relevant legal and regulatory measures he method for making avatars involves actors displaying a range of emotions in front of a green screen. From this, AI is used to create a likeness that can say all sorts of things in different languages. Photo: Shutterstock Answers 1. He was stunned because the advertisements used his image in an unexpected way, associating him with questionable health cures that seemed like scams. (accept all similar answers) 2. C 3. B 4. Using artificial intelligence technology to create a digital likeness of models to appear in videos that promote products or services. 5. Actors must display a range of emotions before a green screen to allow AI to create a digital likeness – or avatar – that can say all sorts of things in different 'tones' and languages. (accept all similar answers) 6. avatar 7. They can be filled with legal jargon and sometimes abusive clauses. 8. To illustrate his unstable housing and financial vulnerability when he signed the contract. (accept all reasonable answers) 9. D
South China Morning Post
02-05-2025
- South China Morning Post
Discovering calligraphy: from China to Cartier, how a traditional form of writing is experiencing a resurgence thanks to online platforms, influencers and a new generation of enthusiasts
Calligraphy is having a moment in the spotlight – and you can thank the internet for it. Over the past few years social media feeds have been dominated by influencers showing off their latest brushstroke techniques on Reels, while online courses have brought traditional forms of decorative writing to a new audience looking to express themselves creatively. 'I was initially attracted to calligraphy because it looked so beautiful. I ended up learning everything online and am completely self-taught,' says Samantha Cheung, a mural artist and calligrapher whose clients include luxury brands like Piaget and Cartier 'For me, calligraphy is not like cursive writing. It's slow and focused, making it much harder to master. It's an art,' she says. Advertisement Samantha Cheung is a self-taught calligrapher based in Hong Kong. Photo: Handout Calligraphy – which literally translates as 'beautiful writing' in Greek – has deep roots in Asia, where it is revered as an art form in countries like China, Japan and Korea. Due to its cultural significance, Chinese calligraphy has thrived and dominated in the region for centuries, but now its Western counterpart is catching up, thanks to interest from a new generation of letter lovers. 'Western and Chinese calligraphy are very similar – in terms of techniques there's a flow and rhythm in the strokes and how you frame the words. Both are also very meditative,' says calligrapher Kalo Chu. Samantha Cheung, whose calligraphy clients include Piaget and Cartier, also paints murals. Photo: Handout Chu grew up watching her father paint Chinese calligraphy, which inspired her initial interest in penmanship. As a wedding invitation designer, she struggled to find a calligraphy teacher in Hong Kong, and eventually had to learn on her own through books and other resources. This experience inspired her to open a studio called Kalo Make Art in 2015, offering the local community lessons in Western-style calligraphy. Hong Kong-based Kalo Chu was inspired to take up calligraphy from watching her father, a Chinese calligrapher, at work. Photo: Handout 'Many people still value the art of handmade creations instead of AI and computers. Writing for young people has great benefits – it improves motor skills and spelling. I worry this art will die, which is why I want to teach as much as I can,' she says. Former fashion events executive Kaye Shu also dabbled with lettering from a young age. After mastering her penmanship classes at Maryknoll College, she picked up calligraphy while studying at university in Boston. Upon her return to Hong Kong, she continued to learn by correspondence with a calligrapher in the United Kingdom while also working full time.
