Portrait of a City
Welsh transplant and 30-year Hong Kong resident Richard Crosbie gets off the stoop for his first solo art show.
Some arbitrary tourism bureaucrat decided Art Month was a thing a few years back (what happened to just Art Week?) and it is upon us. Despite the cynicism that might come from the “Muffy” of it all, it is a welcome calendar date. High profile events like Art Basel and Art Central have stoked the fires for the little guys out there, and now indie galleries in Wong Chuk Hang and Chai Wan and newcomers get to play in the sandbox with H Queen’s. For under-the-radar local artists, all eyes are good eyes. Transplanted Welshman and former toy designer Richard Crosbie is one of those under-the-radar local artists, though his first solo exhibition, Hong Kong Moments, is landing in Art Month quite by accident because – and here comes the Muffy – he met KC100 gallery organisers at the Affordable Art Fair in 2024. He got lucky with a slot during the city’s biggest season for art, which is both a blessing and a curse.
“There’s potential for some cross traffic and hopefully there will be more visitors to the city, as well as more locals who are more primed for art,” begins Crosbie. “However, I’m worried that the noise from the big shows may drown out the solo shows also taking place at the same time, such as my own.”
Ironically, the bluster of Art Month papers over the reality of being an artist right now. Crosbie recognises he’s privileged to be able to work at home and blow through “25 years of savings eked out as a toy designer,” and that he’s in the minority. “There seems to be quite a disconnect between the arts hub image and the reality on the ground. Whenever I meet other Hong Kong-based artists the subject of revenue and income comes up, with everyone struggling and left to work it out themselves,” he says. “Some have day jobs, shifting gigs like teaching or various side hustles. It’s a very rare thing to find an artist spending most of their time actually creating art and sustaining a living from it.” Hong Kong Moments is opening at KC100 Art Space in Kwai Chung, and by the rules of the gallery’s own game, it’s a no-sales zone; the gallery is purely for artist exposure (and, duh, brand building).
That doesn’t do much for Crosbie and artists like him in the moment, but it’s better than zero exposure. Crosbie relocated to Hong Kong in 1996 to work in industrial design, and pivoted to art full time during – three guesses – the pandemic; the minutiae of Hong Kong life his subject (more on Instagram). At a time when we were pulling farther and farther away from each other, Crosbie opted to connect, or reconnect as it were, with the people and places around him. The solitary nature of his work helped: he was parking his ass on a stool in the middle of the city and just… sketching what he saw. The exhibition collects 50 watercolour, ink, pastel or acrylic pieces alongside a video display, and a few days before opening he’s mulling an installation component. “I just need to figure out how to do it.”
The main paintings are familiar, encompassing old and new, past and present, and as much of the eroding fabric of the city as possible. Crosbie cops to wishing he’d started drawing when he got here 30 years ago, and recognises that yeah. He’s preserving some of the city’s uniqueness for posterity, at least on canvas. “I remember sketching one rainy day on the dock of Aberdeen typhoon shelter. A couple of months later there was a news story about how the Jumbo floating restaurant ‘mysteriously’ sunk somewhere in the South China Sea. When I checked back on my sketch I realised that the Jumbo featured in it. Luckily I was able to capture it before it disappeared forever. It's a similar story with neon signs. It’s a race against time now to preserve some of the cultural charm of the city.”
Among the notable pieces are Button Street Shades (above left), Cardboard Granny (right), Yam Man (below, left) and Tram Street Glow (right), each encapsulating an element anyone who lives here recognises. “My work has been resonating with others who connect with this corner of the world,” Crosbie says. “I’m a full time artist solely because of the response I’ve received from others. Maybe if I had been painting pictures of cats wearing superhero costumes – a recent weird trend – during COVID I would be doing that now.” He stops. “But… honestly… no, I wouldn’t. That just doesn’t do it for me.” The city is his main muse, and as he puts it he’s focused on mastering the basic really, really well: trams, ferries, cluttered streets. “I don’t want to shy away from the details. I want to get into them and celebrate them.”
It’s 2025, so of course someone out there is going to poo-poo Crosbie’s work and suggest he has no “right” to interpret his environment. He’s a white guy living in Discovery Bay. “I’d be really interested to know what a ‘White dude from Discovery Bay’s’ art is supposed to look like,” he laughs as someone who’s lived here over half his life. As he sees it, it’s not really about him so much as it’s about the memories and emotions his paintings evoke from locals, expats and tourists in equal measure. Crosbie doesn’t trade in expressionist symbolism or post-impressionism. He paints what he sees. “This city has been a meeting point of East and West for hundreds of years and is a success because of the various influences that are greater than the sum of their parts,” Crosbie argues. “There are seven million-plus people living in this city. That’s seven million different perspectives and stories and each one of them is valid.”
Demand Crosbie make a Sophie’s Choice and pick his personal favourite piece and he’ll waffle a bit, saying “A” is a favourite one day, and “B” another. He’s particularly chuffed about whatever he’s just finished. Then like any creative he starts to get critical until he comes full circle to, “Wow, that’s really good… How did I do that?” But really press and he’ll lean towards the work with the least commercial value.
“I’m still fond of a ballpoint pen sketch that I made featuring an elderly woman who used to collect the garbage around my village, a cardboard granny as the phenomena is known. It’s a shame we have a term for that at all really. It brings up complex emotions for me. Ones of admiration for the lady’s hard-working spirit, and others of sympathy for her situation. The poignancy of the sketch only increased after her passing.” One thing is sure. Crosbie started painting these moments because of all the terrible shit he was seeing pop up in various markets, obviously by someone who has no idea what the city is about – good, bad an ugly – and obviously generated by AI. Crosbie’s no luddite, but he’s… not a fan. “Hong Kong deserves to have itself portrayed in good art. I aim to create good art.”
Hong Kong Moments: Richard Crosbie
Where: KC100 Art Space, 100 Kwai Cheong Road, Kwai Chung
Hours: March 18, 2025 to May 17, 2025; Monday to Saturday, 9am-7pm
Closed: Sundays, public holidays
Details: Free admission