Latest news with #neon
CNN
7 days ago
- Business
- CNN
This artist is keeping Hong Kong's neon heritage alive
The neon signs that once illuminated Hong Kong have mostly gone dark. The lights were once synonymous with the city, but in recent years, the government has tightened regulations over safety concerns about unwieldy signs, and many have been removed. But inside a workspace in the Wong Chuk Hang neighborhood, neon lights are shining bright. Jive Lau founded the Kowloneon studio in 2021, with the hopes of preserving the craft of neon making. He had long been interested in neon when, in 2019, he took a week off from his job as a graphic designer to fly to Taiwan for a neon-making course. When Lau, now 42, was laid off during the Covid-19 pandemic, he took it as a sign to devote himself to neon full-time. Now he's achieving commercial success with his designs — including an elaborate neon popup shop façade for the US fashion brand Coach, a sign for a Louis Vuitton event, and light installations for the Hong Kong Ballet. Through his work, Lau hopes he can help reverse neon's decline in the city. 'Neon is not replaceable,' he tells CNN from his workshop, illuminated by a neon cow shaking maracas mounted on the wall behind him. 'It's magical.' Neon signs were first introduced in Hong Kong in the 1920s. As the city's economy flourished from the 1950s to the 1980s, neon did also, according to Brian Kwok, an associate professor of design at Hong Kong Polytechnic University, and author of 'Fading Neon Lights, an Archive of Hong Kong's Visual Culture.' The lights were once used to advertise everything from tailor shops and bars to seafood restaurants, but in recent decades, the neon industry has been in decline. In 2011, the city's Buildings Department found there were about 120,000 signboards in the city, including neon, many of them unauthorized. Stricter regulation has led to the removal of many signs, like a well-known neon cow measuring three meters (10 feet) hanging above Sammy's Kitchen, a steakhouse, which was taken down in 2015 after being deemed an illegal structure. Some local business owners have willingly replaced the signs with newer technology, including LED lights, which are cheaper. Societal factors, like an association with seediness, have also contributed to neon's decline, according to the city's M+ Museum. Kwok tells CNN that in 2018 and 2019, when he was doing research for his book, there were about 470 neon signs left in the five Hong Kong districts he surveyed. Today, he thinks that only about 10% of those remain. Making neon signs is a delicate and difficult task that entails using powerful burners to heat and shape glass tubes and injecting the right mixture of gas into the tubes, which must be connected seamlessly so the joints can't be seen. There aren't many people left that know how to do the painstaking and delicate work. Kwok estimates that there are about three to five remaining neon masters in Hong Kong, with only one or two actively working in the craft. In recent years, there has been an increasing focus on the disappearing neon, which has drawn media and public attention. A few artists like Lau have started working with neon at a time when the city is undergoing rapid changes. That includes a Beijing-led crackdown on dissent, following pro-democracy protests in 2019, which critics say has stifled creative expression and subdued the once freewheeling city. Many young Hong Kongers have left the city. 'Neon is representative of Hong Kong,' says Lau. 'If the most beautiful and representative things of Hong Kong fade out, I will be really sad,' he adds. Some Hong Kong brands continue to incorporate neon into their stores. Lau has designed signs for a gelato shop and a large neon installation he created sits atop the flagship store of local retailer Goods of Desire (G.O.D) in the central nightlife area Lan Kwai Fong. He says that unlike the old neon masters, who largely made signs with just the name of the shop they advertised, he takes a more creative approach to his designs. His sign above G.O.D., for example, depicts characters holding a wine glass and pouring tea. In his studio, where he receives subsidized rent from the government-backed Hong Kong Arts Development Council, tools cover the walls, and are scattered across worktop tables, while the remnants of broken tubes litter the floor. He shows CNN a neon sign taller than him, with intricately bent neon depicting a phoenix and a dragon — symbols common as a backdrop for Chinese wedding photos — which he says took him a month to make. He also uses neon to create sculptures and is planning for an upcoming exhibition. And he's working to open a store that will sell neon objects suitable for Hong Kong's notoriously cramped apartments. He shows CNN a small sculptural neon lightning bolt mounted on a base. 'I want to reach a different kind of consumer,' says Lau. Kwok sees similar trends among Hong Kong's handful of neon makers. 'The whole industry has shifted to more art-related projects, or small-scale projects for interior decoration,' he says. Lau wants to encourage more people into the art form and late last year, he launched a three-month internship program to teach other young people the craft. His initial batch of eight apprentices included students and professionals working in fields ranging from technology to art repair. He plans to run a second internship program later this year. 'Some people say to me, 'don't create competition for yourself,'' Lau says. 'But we have to make the community bigger for the future.'
CNN
7 days ago
- Business
- CNN
This artist is keeping Hong Kong's neon heritage alive
The neon signs that once illuminated Hong Kong have mostly gone dark. The lights were once synonymous with the city, but in recent years, the government has tightened regulations over safety concerns about unwieldy signs, and many have been removed. But inside a workspace in the Wong Chuk Hang neighborhood, neon lights are shining bright. Jive Lau founded the Kowloneon studio in 2021, with the hopes of preserving the craft of neon making. He had long been interested in neon when, in 2019, he took a week off from his job as a graphic designer to fly to Taiwan for a neon-making course. When Lau, now 42, was laid off during the Covid-19 pandemic, he took it as a sign to devote himself to neon full-time. Now he's achieving commercial success with his designs — including an elaborate neon popup shop façade for the US fashion brand Coach, a sign for a Louis Vuitton event, and light installations for the Hong Kong Ballet. Through his work, Lau hopes he can help reverse neon's decline in the city. 'Neon is not replaceable,' he tells CNN from his workshop, illuminated by a neon cow shaking maracas mounted on the wall behind him. 'It's magical.' Neon signs were first introduced in Hong Kong in the 1920s. As the city's economy flourished from the 1950s to the 1980s, neon did also, according to Brian Kwok, an associate professor of design at Hong Kong Polytechnic University, and author of 'Fading Neon Lights, an Archive of Hong Kong's Visual Culture.' The lights were once used to advertise everything from tailor shops and bars to seafood restaurants, but in recent decades, the neon industry has been in decline. In 2011, the city's Buildings Department found there were about 120,000 signboards in the city, including neon, many of them unauthorized. Stricter regulation has led to the removal of many signs, like a well-known neon cow measuring three meters (10 feet) hanging above Sammy's Kitchen, a steakhouse, which was taken down in 2015 after being deemed an illegal structure. Some local business owners have willingly replaced the signs with newer technology, including LED lights, which are cheaper. Societal factors, like an association with seediness, have also contributed to neon's decline, according to the city's M+ Museum. Kwok tells CNN that in 2018 and 2019, when he was doing research for his book, there were about 470 neon signs left in the five Hong Kong districts he surveyed. Today, he thinks that only about 10% of those remain. Making neon signs is a delicate and difficult task that entails using powerful burners to heat and shape glass tubes and injecting the right mixture of gas into the tubes, which must be connected seamlessly so the joints can't be seen. There aren't many people left that know how to do the painstaking and delicate work. Kwok estimates that there are about three to five remaining neon masters in Hong Kong, with only one or two actively working in the craft. In recent years, there has been an increasing focus on the disappearing neon, which has drawn media and public attention. A few artists like Lau have started working with neon at a time when the city is undergoing rapid changes. That includes a Beijing-led crackdown on dissent, following pro-democracy protests in 2019, which critics say has stifled creative expression and subdued the once freewheeling city. Many young Hong Kongers have left the city. 'Neon is representative of Hong Kong,' says Lau. 'If the most beautiful and representative things of Hong Kong fade out, I will be really sad,' he adds. Some Hong Kong brands continue to incorporate neon into their stores. Lau has designed signs for a gelato shop and a large neon installation he created sits atop the flagship store of local retailer Goods of Desire (G.O.D) in the central nightlife area Lan Kwai Fong. He says that unlike the old neon masters, who largely made signs with just the name of the shop they advertised, he takes a more creative approach to his designs. His sign above G.O.D., for example, depicts characters holding a wine glass and pouring tea. In his studio, where he receives subsidized rent from the government-backed Hong Kong Arts Development Council, tools cover the walls, and are scattered across worktop tables, while the remnants of broken tubes litter the floor. He shows CNN a neon sign taller than him, with intricately bent neon depicting a phoenix and a dragon — symbols common as a backdrop for Chinese wedding photos — which he says took him a month to make. He also uses neon to create sculptures and is planning for an upcoming exhibition. And he's working to open a store that will sell neon objects suitable for Hong Kong's notoriously cramped apartments. He shows CNN a small sculptural neon lightning bolt mounted on a base. 'I want to reach a different kind of consumer,' says Lau. Kwok sees similar trends among Hong Kong's handful of neon makers. 'The whole industry has shifted to more art-related projects, or small-scale projects for interior decoration,' he says. Lau wants to encourage more people into the art form and late last year, he launched a three-month internship program to teach other young people the craft. His initial batch of eight apprentices included students and professionals working in fields ranging from technology to art repair. He plans to run a second internship program later this year. 'Some people say to me, 'don't create competition for yourself,'' Lau says. 'But we have to make the community bigger for the future.'
CNN
7 days ago
- Business
- CNN
This artist is keeping Hong Kong's neon heritage alive
The neon signs that once illuminated Hong Kong have mostly gone dark. The lights were once synonymous with the city, but in recent years, the government has tightened regulations over safety concerns about unwieldy signs, and many have been removed. But inside a workspace in the Wong Chuk Hang neighborhood, neon lights are shining bright. Jive Lau founded the Kowloneon studio in 2021, with the hopes of preserving the craft of neon making. He had long been interested in neon when, in 2019, he took a week off from his job as a graphic designer to fly to Taiwan for a neon-making course. When Lau, now 42, was laid off during the Covid-19 pandemic, he took it as a sign to devote himself to neon full-time. Now he's achieving commercial success with his designs — including an elaborate neon popup shop façade for the US fashion brand Coach, a sign for a Louis Vuitton event, and light installations for the Hong Kong Ballet. Through his work, Lau hopes he can help reverse neon's decline in the city. 'Neon is not replaceable,' he tells CNN from his workshop, illuminated by a neon cow shaking maracas mounted on the wall behind him. 'It's magical.' Neon signs were first introduced in Hong Kong in the 1920s. As the city's economy flourished from the 1950s to the 1980s, neon did also, according to Brian Kwok, an associate professor of design at Hong Kong Polytechnic University, and author of 'Fading Neon Lights, an Archive of Hong Kong's Visual Culture.' The lights were once used to advertise everything from tailor shops and bars to seafood restaurants, but in recent decades, the neon industry has been in decline. In 2011, the city's Buildings Department found there were about 120,000 signboards in the city, including neon, many of them unauthorized. Stricter regulation has led to the removal of many signs, like a well-known neon cow measuring three meters (10 feet) hanging above Sammy's Kitchen, a steakhouse, which was taken down in 2015 after being deemed an illegal structure. Some local business owners have willingly replaced the signs with newer technology, including LED lights, which are cheaper. Societal factors, like an association with seediness, have also contributed to neon's decline, according to the city's M+ Museum. Kwok tells CNN that in 2018 and 2019, when he was doing research for his book, there were about 470 neon signs left in the five Hong Kong districts he surveyed. Today, he thinks that only about 10% of those remain. Making neon signs is a delicate and difficult task that entails using powerful burners to heat and shape glass tubes and injecting the right mixture of gas into the tubes, which must be connected seamlessly so the joints can't be seen. There aren't many people left that know how to do the painstaking and delicate work. Kwok estimates that there are about three to five remaining neon masters in Hong Kong, with only one or two actively working in the craft. In recent years, there has been an increasing focus on the disappearing neon, which has drawn media and public attention. A few artists like Lau have started working with neon at a time when the city is undergoing rapid changes. That includes a Beijing-led crackdown on dissent, following pro-democracy protests in 2019, which critics say has stifled creative expression and subdued the once freewheeling city. Many young Hong Kongers have left the city. 'Neon is representative of Hong Kong,' says Lau. 'If the most beautiful and representative things of Hong Kong fade out, I will be really sad,' he adds. Some Hong Kong brands continue to incorporate neon into their stores. Lau has designed signs for a gelato shop and a large neon installation he created sits atop the flagship store of local retailer Goods of Desire (G.O.D) in the central nightlife area Lan Kwai Fong. He says that unlike the old neon masters, who largely made signs with just the name of the shop they advertised, he takes a more creative approach to his designs. His sign above G.O.D., for example, depicts characters holding a wine glass and pouring tea. In his studio, where he receives subsidized rent from the government-backed Hong Kong Arts Development Council, tools cover the walls, and are scattered across worktop tables, while the remnants of broken tubes litter the floor. He shows CNN a neon sign taller than him, with intricately bent neon depicting a phoenix and a dragon — symbols common as a backdrop for Chinese wedding photos — which he says took him a month to make. He also uses neon to create sculptures and is planning for an upcoming exhibition. And he's working to open a store that will sell neon objects suitable for Hong Kong's notoriously cramped apartments. He shows CNN a small sculptural neon lightning bolt mounted on a base. 'I want to reach a different kind of consumer,' says Lau. Kwok sees similar trends among Hong Kong's handful of neon makers. 'The whole industry has shifted to more art-related projects, or small-scale projects for interior decoration,' he says. Lau wants to encourage more people into the art form and late last year, he launched a three-month internship program to teach other young people the craft. His initial batch of eight apprentices included students and professionals working in fields ranging from technology to art repair. He plans to run a second internship program later this year. 'Some people say to me, 'don't create competition for yourself,'' Lau says. 'But we have to make the community bigger for the future.'
ABC News
15-05-2025
- Entertainment
- ABC News
The war game that nearly sparked a nuclear war
The 1980's was the decade of neon leggings and aerobic work-out videos, but it was also a time where a NATO military exercise pushed the world close to nuclear Armageddon.
South China Morning Post
12-05-2025
- Entertainment
- South China Morning Post
Neon to the max: Timothée Chalamet's and Zendaya's red carpet looks built on Margot Robbie and Ryan Gosling's Barbie brights, and Charli XCX's Brat green, to turn the colour up to 10
If there's one commonality between high fashion and high street that you can't ignore, it would have to be the ever-polarising colour palette that is neon – as much a staple of fast fashion retailers as it is now a designer darling. This past season alone, neon made an appearance on the Tom Ford runway in designer Haider Ackermann's debut for the house, while master colourist Christopher John Rogers, who hadn't staged a show in two years, made his highly anticipated return to New York Fashion Week with several of his signature neon shades. As these two remarkably different brands – each with its own distinctive ethos – demonstrate, neon is back and brighter than ever. Most importantly, neon dressing is now more than ever a powerful statement of self-confidence. Tom Ford womenswear autumn/winter 2025-26. Advertisement There's a reason, after all, why construction workers and traffic cones are typically swathed in a shade of somewhat obnoxiously bright neon orange. The colour is unmissable – the message an unmistakable warning of traffic disruptions, lane closures and even potential danger ahead. Wearing neon colours, however intimidating they may seem, achieves an attention grab to similar effect, without all the negative connotations. Whether used sparingly or slathered head-to-toe, neon announces one's arrival with conviction and stands as a spectrum of individuality – the way you wear it says enough about who you are. But how did neon go from high-visibility workwear to the front row of fashion weeks around the world? Like so many maximalist trends in fashion today, we have the 80s to thank for neon's resurgence. Although neon has been around longer than you may think – Day-Glo, the company founded by Americans Robert and Joseph Switzer, which is credited with inventing and commercialising neon fabrics, first took off during the second world war, when bright fluorescent safety materials were in high demand – it was material girl Madonna , along with Jane Fonda's abs and VHS tapes, who really pushed these colours into the mainstream. Jane Fonda helped make neon brights fashionable in the 1980s. Photo: @immaculate_gem/Instagram Long before athleisure became what we know it to be today, the invention of neon coincided with another consequential fashion finding – stretchy spandex – to create that perfect storm of flashy, form-fitting but no less flexible fashion we now associate with leotards, leggings and leg warmers, which exploded in popularity during the decade thanks to home workout videos and later music videos. Now, all shades of the neon rainbow can be found in modern sportswear and its distant cousin, streetwear, especially as it continues to cross-pollinate with high fashion (see the aforementioned Ackermann's tie-up with athleisure giant Fila, or other high-profile collabs between brands like Off-White and Nike). Neon's been around so long, in fact, that even as some have predicted its demise – 'Are the bright shoes here to stay,' asked The New York Times in 2013, 'or destined to be the acid wash jeans of tomorrow?' – it remains the colour of choice for gym-goers, joggers and athletes everywhere, from suburban streets to the Olympics. Margot Robbie and Ryan Gosling film a scene for Barbie. Photo: Mega/GC Images Is it any wonder that those behind-the-scenes pictures of Margot Robbie and Ryan Gosling filming the 2023 blockbuster Barbie – looking like a neon fever dream decked out in 80s-inspired athleisure 'fits – fully broke the internet when they first dropped? 'Nowadays often when we see a resurgence of a specific colour, it relates back to a pop culture moment,' explains Kay Barron, fashion director at Net-a-Porter. 'Along with the sense of nostalgia, there's a fun and youthful association that drives consumers to seek out these colours in their clothing and accessories.' Barron cites the film's Barbiecore pink dressing trend – inspired by the trademark doll's signature outfits – and its somewhat antithetical successor, the slightly off-putting chartreuse-lime shade dubbed 'Brat green' for the 2024 Charli XCX album cover that inspired it, as prime examples of pop culture's influence on consumer choices. Both neon-adjacent colours quickly made their way onto our social media feeds, into the cultural zeitgeist and yes, even into our clothes.
