In Hong Kong, Neon is a Family Business

For older generations, Hong Kong’s gleaming nightscape lives on as a vivid memory. Neon signs once lit up the city, hanging high on building facades to advertise everything from pawnshops and bakeries to saunas, teahouses, restaurants and mahjong parlours.

There has been plenty of talk about the fact that the vast majority of neon signs have disappeared following a 2010 change in building regulations that led to the removal of thousands of signboards per year. Yet few pay attention to the unsung craftsmen behind the glow that once filled Hong Kong’s streets. 

One such neon master is Wong Kin-wah, whose work was once ubiquitous across Hong Kong, especially along Nathan Road. “I remember making a sign for a tea restaurant that was 40 or 50 feet tall and spanned across four or five facades at Sun Hing Building in Mong Kok,” says the 84-year-old with a wistful smile. “That building used to be covered with billboards, but now they’re all gone.”

As the city’s neon lights fade into the night, only one of Master Wong’s creations remains: one for Tak Hing Sea Products in Yau Ma Tei. Like that lone sign, Master Wong himself is among the last neon craftsmen left in the city.

The dim Hong Kong nightscape, now dotted with only a few flickering neon signs, carries Master Wong back to the 1950s, when he first came here from the mainland. Aged 17 at the time, Wong had never seen anything like the glowing signs that were becoming popular as Hong Kong recovered from the devastation of World War II. He was introduced to the industry by a relative. For him, neon was less an art and more a means of survival. “Back then,” he says, “it was all about making a living.”

Neon’s heyday — and the zenith of Master Wong’s career — came during the bustling 1980s. At that time, Wong crafted hundreds of signs every month. Whenever a shop opened, he had just 10 days to finish the sign. Even with a team of five to six employees and outsourced help, the workload never slowed. 

“It was a trend,” he says. “Every store wanted a neon sign back then. If one shop made a big sign, the others would ask for even bigger ones. So, giant neon signs became abundant, towering over the streets.”

Never in his wildest dreams did Master Wong imagine he would spend over 66 years crafting neon signs. And still is doing it today, working with his family to pass the art on to a new generation.

A new generation of neon

Passion for neon runs in Wong’s family. His daughter, Kitty Wong, is an illustrator, and his grandson, Jerry Loo, is an emerging artist specialising in 2D animation. 

Together, these three generations of creatives put up Neon Heroes: Illuminated Dreams, an exhibition held earlier this summer at PMQ, which reinterpreted glowing neon lights into interactive artworks. Unlike typically nostalgic neon exhibitions that focus on giant shop signs and billboards, Master Wong’s family reimagined neon lights as modern, interactive artworks themed around superheroes, giving viewers a chance to touch and engage with the craft.

“Growing up, I always heard stories about how grandpa crafted the neon signs that shaped Hong Kong’s glowing nightscapes,” says Loo, who came up with the idea for the exhibition last year. “The blood, sweat and tears behind that craftsmanship truly deserve respect.” At the entrance of the Neon Heroes exhibition was a sign that read: “To those who kept the fire going.” 

The artist hopes the exhibition will inspire a new generation — one that never got to fully appreciate the dazzling glow of Hong Kong’s neon signs — to understand the spirit of neon light. “If we only focus on nostalgia, young people won’t resonate with it,” says Loo. “When signs hang high, you can’t see the craftsmanship or details up close. Times have changed, and we want people to fall in love with neon in a new way.”

The exhibition was also Loo’s personal tribute to Master Wong, the first hero in his life. Featuring six artworks, each inspired by different superpowers or superhero transformations, it took references from influences like Japan’s Super Saiyans and Chinese mythological creatures. But Loo says the idea of a superhero doesn’t need to extend to the realm of fantasy.

“I once asked a foreign friend if he could name a Hong Kong superhero, and his answers were Donnie Yen and Chow Yun-fat,” he says, referring to the two actors known for their heroic roles. “That’s when I realised superheroes can be ordinary people. We don’t need larger-than-life figures. The spirit of Hong Kong is a superpower in itself.”

Of all the works in the exhibition, Master Wong’s favorite was “Eternal Glow: Legacy in Neon,” which consists of a swirling neon line that forms the pattern of the golden ratio, while also replicating his studio in Mong Kok. It stood out not only because it was the artwork created collaboratively by the grandfather and grandson, but also for the challenge it presented.

“Although billboards are huge, they’re flat and fixed,” says Wong. “This three-dimensional piece is a different approach. There’s no backdrop, it’s floating in the air. No one has tried it before, so it’s a completely new experience.”

Loo describes it as representing Wong’s 66 years of hard work in crafting neon lights: “It represented a physical lineage being passed on down, generations of masters passed their legacy to continue the art,” he says. 

The installation also features a burner that references the early history of neon in Hong Kong. When the craft first arrived here from overseas, local masters used the same equipment as their counterparts in Europe and North America. But creating neon lettering in Chinese characters posed a much greater challenge than in other languages, as Chinese characters are far more intricate, requiring significantly more bending and molding. 

The imported burners Master Wong used at the time weren’t efficient enough to meet the surging demand for neon signs in Hong Kong. So he modified it to intensify the flame tenfold, allowing him to handle the complexity of Chinese characters more quickly and efficiently. His method was later adopted by many other sifus in Hong Kong. 

“That story reflects the city’s indomitable spirit in those days,” says Loo. “If there was something that needed to be done, Hongkongers would always find a way to make it happen.”

Keeping the neon glow alive

Apart from grandfather and grandson, the neon exhibition came to life with help from Master Wong’s fellow sifus, who bent and molded the neon glass tubes into Loo’s designs. Kitty took charge of marketing and Wong’s son-in-law, Denny Loo, oversaw production and setup.

But keeping everyone on the same page wasn’t easy, and disagreements were inevitable. Before the grand opening, the family ran four tests to ensure everything was safe for audiences to interact closely. 

“There were a lot of compromises,” says Kitty. “At first, my dad would say, ‘Aiya, I’m afraid they’ll argue,’ or ‘Luckily, no one fought today,’” she recalls with a smile. “The sifus and artist were open to trying new things and pushing creative limits. While from a production point of view, we had to balance that with safety, cost, and time. But this all came together because of him. Everyone admires him, he’s the soul of the exhibition.”

Reflecting on the family collaboration, Kitty says she discovered a new side of her father as a neon master. “I’ve come to see my father as a very open-minded and creative person who welcomes new ideas. I knew neon masters who are more traditional, focused on preserving the nostalgic side of neon. Some people still ask him, ‘Why don’t you make the giant signs like before?’ But the reality is, there’s no market for neon light to return to the way it once was.” 

Master Wong welcomes anyone interested in the craft to learn it from him. That includes Kitty and Loo, who both began taking lessons with him when they started working on the exhibition. “His teaching is very raw,” says Loo – hands-on, in other words. While some workshops focus on safety, Master Wong pushes for efficiency. “He wants us to learn the craft quickly so we have more time to practice and unleash our ideas,” says Loo.

Though age makes Master Wong’s hands tremble, and bending glass is harder than when he was younger, he still climbs three flights of stairs to his studio every day, rain or shine, to repair signs or create new neon art. “He never stops working and is never satisfied with the status quo,” says Kitty with a sigh.

“I’ve been doing this for 60 years. How could I be able to stop?” laughs Wong. “People often ask why I’m still bending glass tubes at this age, but I believe we should keep learning until the very end. As I often tell my students, I don’t expect you to follow my path, I want you to innovate and do the best in your own way.”

The exhibition wrapped up with a short animated film, created by Loo, titled Neon Waltz. The piece traces Wong’s journey from apprentice to becoming a fully fledged neon master. 

“I hope this event can inspire young people to chase their dreams and keep the flame of neon alive,” says Loo. “Even if just one more person gets to know neon, it can live on.”

Looking at his grandson with pride, Master Wong responds fondly: “This exhibition was meant to support him and all young artists to be creative and innovative. My dream? Of course – it’s to carry forward the legacy of neon light.”