In the 1950s and 60s, the Lung Wah Hotel, a Spanish revival villa turned hotel, located in Hong Kong’s New Territories, served as a tranquil escape from urban life. With its windy staircases bordered by red lanterns leading to a sprawling Chinese-style garden, the hotel became a neighborhood hotspot for weekend mahey games under the pavilion, with kids playing nearby. It was even a venue for filming movies and where martial arts legend Bruce Lee honed his skills on the roof.
Over the decades, the hotel’s rooms were no longer rented out due to the necessity of upgrading to meet fire codes. The surrounding rice fields transformed into middle-class housing, and the restaurant, while still famous for its roast pigeon, struggled to fill its dining rooms after its parking lot was converted into a new police station.
A revival for the hotel was sparked by converting an untouched teahouse on the compound into the Hong Kong Radiance, a hands-on museum curated by John Wu, a graphic designer, and avid collector. Wu, aiming to feel the richness of Hong Kong’s past, transformed each corner into a film set with a consistent color palette.
While dusty antique shops are common in Hong Kong, a new wave of businesses, including photo studios and vintage shops, run by younger generations, aim to celebrate the aesthetic of a more recent history before the British handed the territory back to China in 1997. Post-1997, Hong Kong’s cultural golden era, marked by popular Cantonese pop culture, has seen a resurgence of nostalgia, partly due to the Chinese government’s efforts to redefine Hong Kong’s cultural identity.
The Hong Kong Radiance museum lets guests explore and engage with slices of Hong Kong’s past, from dressers filled with treasures to replicas of a typical middle-class home. John Wu’s personal collection, including Henry Steiner’s iconic branding designs, forms the backbone of the exhibit.
Wu and his team even helped elderly residents save belongings from a demolished housing estate, storing these to display to the public one day. Their volunteer work caught the attention of Mary Chung, the hotel’s owner, who enlisted their help to organize the bulk of recording equipment, instruments, and books accumulated over the years.
The Lung Wah Hotel, originally the Chung family’s vacation home, saw live music and poetry readings, but its business declined as the area densified. With the government’s takeover of adjacent land for a railway, the hotel closed in 1985. The restaurant survived into the Covid-19 pandemic but barely.
Mrs. Chung’s partnership with Wu’s group led to the transformation of the teahouse into a museum. Hong Kong Radiance, which opened in autumn of the previous year, draws school groups and seniors alike, offering a platform for nostalgia and collective memory.
The museum continues to find new ways to engage visitors. Mrs. Chung considers showcasing more of the hotel’s vintage items and believes Lung Wah is a piece of Hong Kong’s history. The museum’s reopening is a testament to the city’s enduring affection for its storied past.
Source: https://www.nytimes.com/2025/04/25/world/asia/hong-kong-museum-nostalgia.html
