Kingsley Ng and Angel Hui’s “Fermata” Brings the Rhythms of Hong Kong to Venice

“Fermata: Hong Kong in Venice,” one of the collateral shows of the 61st Venice Biennale, creates a bridge between two cities shaped by water and marked by strong maritime histories. Artists Kingsley Ng and Angel Hui have transformed the Campo della Tana, next to the Arsenale, into a subtle choreography of light, sound and movement, constructing a sequence of sensory and poetic evocations of the daily rhythms of Hong Kong. Visitors are immersed in a synesthesiatic experience that traces the city’s gradual transition from night into day. “The whole installation unfolds as a time-space sequence on a loop; every second and every session offers some surprise,” Hui tells Observer, explaining how, rather than presenting isolated objects, the artists conceived the exhibition as a shared sensory journey connecting multiple practices. Although this marks their first collaboration, Hui previously studied installation under Ng, establishing an intergenerational dialogue between their approaches.

Sound plays a central role in their collective world-building. Field recordings from Hong Kong at night—including transportation noises, birdsong and distant urban atmospheres—were integrated into a collaborative soundscape that evolves throughout the installation’s 10-minute cycle. “I told Ng Kingsley what I imagined, and he helped compose it because we see the entire exhibition as one journey, not separate works,” Hui explains, describing the totality of the show as a choreographed temporal experience.

A red window floats suspended in space, surrounded by small plastic bags containing goldfish—these forms are in fact delicately embroidered, introducing a sensual tactile quality and local craftsmanship into the installation. Through intricate Suzhou embroidery, Hui has transformed fragile, disposable materials into objects of care and contemplation. The plastic bags drift gently through the space while luminous goldfish flicker overhead, emerging slowly from darkness at measured intervals before coalescing into a floating constellation above the viewer. The entire installation transforms ordinary, overlooked objects into a drifting sanctuary where time is suspended and the subtle rhythms of everyday life begin to surface.

Hui emphasizes openness—both spatial and psychological—while transforming ordinary materials into poetic forms. Plastic bags, umbrellas, textiles and other overlooked objects are reworked through artisanal touch and theatrical lighting effects that challenge conventional notions of value and craft. “For this project, I’m questioning how we can see ordinary objects differently, how we can give them value, or transform them into artworks,” she explains.

Embroidery applied to industrial plastic surfaces creates a tension between softness and artificiality, while references to shadow play introduce theatrical and dreamlike dimensions. Hui describes the project as a breakthrough in her practice, moving beyond wall-based displays toward a more immersive, cinematic language. “I wanted to create imagination and a connection between two cities. Venice and Hong Kong share a similar spirit,” she adds.

Water, windows and floating forms emerge as central motifs through which Hui explores imagination, permeability and emotional connections between Hong Kong and Venice. She collaborated with traditional local metalsmiths in Hong Kong on the wrought-iron window frame, which combines ornamental motifs typical of both cities. The traces of handwork are intentionally left visible, allowing craft and the passage of time to shape the pieces while also acknowledging the pressures that evolving technologies place on traditional craftsmanship and its slower rhythms of care.

Entering the conversation, Ng directs attention to a central installation inspired by the “sky well,” a vertical architectural feature common in Hong Kong buildings: “In Venice, we are familiar with wells that go downward into the earth. In Hong Kong, we have instead what we call ‘sky wells,’ vertical spaces that rise upward through dense buildings. There’s a dialogue between the Venetian well and the Hong Kong sky well.” Inside, water circulates continuously, creating bubbles that pulse beneath a small floating light. “The bubbles and laundry celebrate daily work and manual labor, but they also allow us to imagine something larger—stars, celestial forms, intelligence. They’re always in flux, somewhere between control and lack of control.”

While Hui’s work focuses more directly on the material textures of everyday urban life, Ng’s practice engages with the intangible, shedding light on what already exists and foregrounding the atmospheres generated by the city itself. In an adjacent room, a meditative installation composed of light, shadows, projections and sound evokes the image of laundry suspended from windows. “Even the projection creates uncertainty; viewers aren’t always sure whether the light is real or artificial,” he explains. Titled Laundry Nocturne (晾曬夜曲), the work emerged from Ng’s experience in Venice, where hanging laundry stretched between buildings recalled scenes once ubiquitous throughout Hong Kong.

The soundscape accompanies the transition from the beginning of the night to the first moments of morning in Hong Kong. (One recording comes from the city’s highest mountain, where a tea house prepares dim sum breakfast before dawn.) The exhibition manifests a suspended moment—at once mnemonic and imagined—in a temporal and spatial glitch that momentarily transports Hong Kong into Venice.

Technology is deeply embedded in Ng’s practice, as it is for many artists from Hong Kong, yet he intentionally keeps it from dominating the work. The technological systems remain subtle, almost invisible. Outside in the courtyard, he expands the laundry metaphor further. “I wanted to connect sky, sunlight and water—the drying of water,” he explains. Five pools of varying sizes, resembling puddles left behind after rain, are scattered across the space. Above them, iridescent ribbons extend from the surrounding walls, set gently in motion by concealed motors, twisting and rotating to catch and reflect daylight much like the clotheslines stretched across the Venetian palace opposite.

Throughout our conversation, both artists returned repeatedly to the idea of interconnection: between generations, between cities, between material and immaterial forms and between audience and environment. The installation uses everyday elements (laundry, windows, shadows, water, maintenance and ambient sound) as the basis for a contemplative sensory experience that recalibrates attention toward the city’s quieter frequencies and the oftentimes overlooked rhythms of everyday urban life.

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