Page 28 – RADII

Novel Fergus: The Hong Kong Rapper Championing Chinese Culture Through Hip Hop

Novel Fergus’ relaxed demeanor and focused stare belie the complex layering of sounds and fresh approach that he brings to Cantonese rap.

Clad in a black t-shirt and durag in his studio, the rapper recently sat down with RADII ahead of a major milestone — his upcoming performance at AsiaWorld-Expo, one of Hong Kong’s major music venues. Representing a big moment not only for Fergus, but also for the local Hong Kong music scene, he took the time to tell us about his story and wide range of influences.

Growing up in the working-class neighborhood of Sham Shui Po, where there is a strong sense of belonging to the community, Fergus initially did not think of making music himself. That is until one day, when a colleague at the tattoo parlor he was working at introduced him to the world of hip hop, inviting him back to his flat to freestyle and experiment with beats. Captivated by the music’s energetic flow, Fergus quickly saw its enormous potential as a way to tell his own story.

RADII Voices: Verses to the World video with Novel Fergus.

So, where does his inspiration come from?

Once Fergus got involved in rap, he wanted to forge his own path and unique identity, whilst defying stereotypes and adding to the local hip hop scene.

“You know hip hop rappers, they might try to emulate Western rappers and focus on ‘naughty’ things or be with many women. But this simply isn’t my culture and this behavior would be heavily criticized here. Everything that you do has its own consequences — namely developing a sense of value even when it comes to music,” said Fergus.

Instead, he wants to make international audiences recognize that hip hop in the city is truly special.

“If I rapped in English or tried to emulate American rappers, then why don’t fans just listen to them instead? So, if I want to ‘gain’ something from this situation, then I need to play to my own strengths really well so that the audience knows this is very special Hong Kong hip hop,” the rapper explained.

He explained that rapping in English means a focus on the overall feel and vibe, whereas with Cantonese it’s more about delivery in terms of choice of lyrics and singing skills.

A RADII Conversation with Novel Fergus.

Through discussion with different MCs, Fergus was also introduced to the art form of 南音 (naam4 jam1, traditional Cantonese narrative song and performance art), which let him experiment with his delivery through various sounds and themes.

Hong Kong cinema, from mainstream comedies to more arthouse fare, has also had a major impact on his music.

For example, one of his first hits, “至尊寶” (Supreme Treasure) was inspired by the 1990 two-part film series, A Chinese Odyssey, which starred comedian Stephen Chow Sing-chi and recounts the tragic love story between Joker, one of the Monkey King’s 72 reincarnations, and the fairy Zixia. Fergus even ended up using scenes from the movie for the song’s music video.

For his more recent song “胭脂扣,” the rapper was inspired by the 1987 romantic movie of the same Chinese title, Rouge, which has a plot similar to Romeo and Juliet. The film follows courtesan Fleur (Anita Mui Yin-fong) and rich playboy Chan (Leslie Cheung Kwok-wing), who are kept apart by their family backgrounds and decide to commit suicide to be reunited in the afterlife. Assimilating his humble personal background into the film’s storyline, Fergus’ song tells the similar tragic tale of an ordinary actor longing for love with a socialite.

“Honestly, I don’t understand the mindset of the wealthy because I’m personally not one of them. So, I wrote a song using my identity as a performer and as an ordinary person like myself,” added Fergus, nodding thoughtfully.

This inventive approach has resonated with fans, particularly those who share Fergus’ passion for lyrical storytelling and the aesthetics of Chinese culture. As he continues to make waves in the local music scene, the rising rapper remains focused on using his platform to champion a new vision for hip hop — one that blends the East and West in harmonious, transcendent ways.

Novel Fergus’ next concert will be held on Saturday, August 17 at AsiaWorld-Expo Hong Kong.

Banner image by Haedi Yue.

The Torch is Passed: How Chinese Diaspora Athletes Inspired Us at the Paris Olympics

As the Paris 2024 Olympics bid a warm au revoir to the world, the closing ceremony at the Stade de France was a dazzling celebration befitting the world’s biggest sporting event. From epic dance performances and Tom Cruise pulling off death-defying stunts à la Mission Impossible, to the dramatic passing of the Olympic flag to Karen Bass, the Mayor of Los Angeles, it was an evening with an electric atmosphere, culminating in fireworks illuminating the French capital’s night sky.

Amid the fanfare, several athletes from the Chinese diaspora stole our hearts and inspired us.

This year’s Games featured many athletes with Chinese roots competing for other nations, both as the organic result of global migration and more tactical moves — for example, China’s long-standing table tennis dominance has prompted other nations to recruit players of Chinese descent in an effort to bolster their performances in the sport.

Lily Zhang

A four-time Olympian in table tennis, the Chinese American has had a distinguished career in the sport. However, even her parents see her talent as more of an impressive résumé line than a viable career path, as her chosen sport doesn’t receive the same level of attention or resources at home as American football or basketball.

In fact, earlier this August, table tennis suddenly became a viral talking point when Minnesota Timberwolves and Team U.S.A. basketball player Anthony Edwards insisted that he could score at least one point against the American table tennis team. His support for Zhang, during her third round match against Brazil’s Bruna Takahashi, sparked hopes that this newfound interest could bring longer-term support and raise the sport’s profile in America — perhaps eventually bringing with it some Olympic medals?

Ni Xialian

At 61 years old, Ni Xialian inspired audiences as the oldest table tennis competitor in Paris. Affectionately dubbed “Auntie Ni” by adoring supporters, the Shanghai native, who now represents Luxembourg, won over fans with her wholesome and joyful spirit on the court.

Despite losing to the Chinese top seed player Sun Yingsha, 38 years her junior, Ni’s enthusiasm and sportsmanship shone through, with footage of her enjoying a Coca-Cola during matches and celebrating points with a bright smile delighting fans on social media.

Zheng Ziying

Another veteran table tennis player — 58-year-old Zheng Ziying — also captivated audiences. The Guangzhou native played with “Auntie Ni” on Team China back in the 1980s, but retired from professional table tennis aged 20 and immigrated to Chile, before picking up the sport again in the early 2000s, and then a third time during the pandemic.

Inspired by her former teammate, Zheng’s return to the international stage at an advanced age and ability to rekindle her passion for table tennis have been captivating for fans around the world.

Adam Dong

Adam Dong’s badminton journey began in his hometown of Suzhou, China, where as a young child he became a fan of the sport after watching fellow Suzhou-native Zhang Jun win Olympic Gold in 2000. Dong went on to play for one of China’s top professional teams, but his story took a different, inspiring turn when he moved to Canada to attend college in 2014.

Finding a sense of belonging in Canada through badminton, Dong went on to represent the nation at the Paris Olympics, where he and his partner Nyl Yakura were beaten by the eventual bronze medal pair — Malaysia’s Aaron Chia Teng-fong and Soh Wooi Yik. But Dong’s ability to harness his passion for the sport and connect with his new home country made his Olympic journey all the more meaningful.

Karen Chen

For some athletes, the significance lies not in competing at the Paris Games, but simply being recognized for their past achievements.

Taiwanese American figure skater Karen Chen had to wait over two years to receive her Olympic gold medal from the 2022 Beijing Winter Games, as she and her teammates were initially awarded silver before being retroactively given gold after a doping investigation involving the Russian squad. Though they missed the original medal ceremony in Beijing, the 2024 Paris Olympics provided Chen and her fellow skaters the opportunity to be ceremonially honored near the iconic Eiffel Tower.

Essentially, these stories of identity and perseverance speak to the increasingly international makeup of the Olympic competition. For the Chinese diaspora in particular, the 2024 Paris Olympics represented a chance to make their mark on the world stage — and these empowering athletes delivered, having etched their stories deep into Olympic lore, creating an inspiring legacy for the next generation of global competitors in Los Angeles 2028 and beyond.

Banner image via Getty Images.

Resignation Influencers Are Heading Back to the Office

As waves of post-pandemic burnout hit China’s workface last year, quitting became the cool thing to do, leading to viral “resignation parties.” The same phenomenon also created a surge of so-called “resignation influencers,” content creators whose online identities were tied to the act of quitting their jobs and exploring new avenues. However, only a year later, the trend has seemingly been reversed: at the beginning of August “Resignation Influencers Return to Work” became a trending search topic on Weibo, attracting 80 million views. Many influencers who made their names quitting corporate life have returned to traditional employment, disappointed by the realities of life as a content creator.

Many “resignation influencers” gained their initial popularity through posts stating that they would quit their jobs if they got a certain number of likes. After following through with their resignations they would document their lives after leaving corporate positions. This phenomenon highlights a significant shift in the attitudes of young professionals in China, where a stable job is traditionally viewed as a hallmark of success. The pressures of long working hours, high stress, and disproportionate compensation have led many to seek a different path — but evidently, some have found being full time content creator to be a step too far.

Some of these influencers expressed their disillusionment, saying that their new lives were fulfilling and more competitive than they anticipated. While some transitioned into roles like beauty or travel blogging, others have continued to share career insights and personal reflections from their time in corporate life, leveraging their previous titles at major tech firms. However, as time goes on from their initial departures, titles like “Former Alibaba Product Manager” can lose their sheen, leading to drops in audience engagement. Many influencers have also noted that their new ventures in social media have taken their weekends away from them, highlighting the complex balance between freedom and financial stability.

While these influencers initially captivated audiences with the promise of a liberated life, the reality they’ve found has often proved less idyllic than expected. Their return to the workforce underscores the enduring appeal of stability and the challenges of self-employment, especially as China goes through difficult economic straits. The reversal of the trend reveals that despite the allure of escaping conventional career paths, when it comes to personal and professional satisfaction, there’s no-one-size-fits-all solution for young Chinese workers.

Banner Image via Xiaohongshu

For Chinese Fans, The Summer’s Coolest Music Festivals Are Overseas

At Fuji Rock, an annual rock festival in Japan, Jerry Hu marveled at the view of the small town of Yuzawa from the tram ascending to the peak of Mount Takenoko, where a stage was set up in the lush greenery. It was his first time attending the festival. From July 26 to 28, he averaged 25,000 steps per day, trekking from stage to stage in the rain and excruciating July heat. It felt like military training. But when you are surrounded by music and cheers from fellow fans, you surrender yourself to the shared exhilaration. That’s how he felt when the English rock band Oasis performed on stage, as excitement swiped away his exhaustion. To come to Fuji Rock, 40-year-old Hu had to take a 5-day leave from his tech job in Shanghai.

“Three days at the festival felt surreal. Dancing, drinking, music — I didn’t need to worry about anything else. It’s a different lifestyle, so different from my meeting-after-meeting kind of work life,” he said.

Hu is one of many Chinese flying overseas for music festivals, part of a wider travel boom in the post-pandemic era. Today, Chinese music lovers who value a YOLO lifestyle over 996 work culture are jetting off to America for Coachella, Hong Kong for Clockenflap, Japan for Fuji Rock, and Thailand for Rolling Loud. Traditional travel destinations no longer satisfy the increasingly adventurous spirit of some young Chinese people.

As such, concert and festival tourism has become a growing trend. Trips that could be weekend getaways often turn into extended vacations, with many fans arriving early or staying beyond the event to explore local attractions. The phenomenon isn’t exclusive to China: almost 70% of respondents in an Expedia survey said they are now more inclined to travel outside their hometown for a concert, and 44% indicated they would attend a concert as an excuse to explore a new destination.

To the adventurous soul, this multi-pronged approach adds a dynamic and fun cultural experience to conventional travel, making a new place even more appealing.

“From music festivals to exotic adventures, Chinese travelers are increasingly seeking more than just a typical gateway,” commented Jane Sun, CEO of Trip.com, during the company’s 2023 Annual Report earnings call earlier this year. “They are craving immersive cultural experiences, thrilling adventures, and music euphoria.”

Taylor Swift’s Singapore concerts in March 2024 provide a prime example of concert tourism in Asia. According to ChannelNewsAsia, the Swiftie Effect led to a 30% spike in regional demand for hotels and flights during the star’s six show run in Singapore. Economists estimate that Swift’s concerts in Singapore may have contributed up to 500 million Singapore dollars to the economy, approximately 372 million USD.

In the post-pandemic era, music festivals worldwide have experienced a revival. On the surface at least, music festivals are thriving in China. As reported by Sixth Tone in July 2024, a rising demand for social connection and escapism has led to a resurgence in music events across the country in 2023, with the number of events more than doubling the previous peak recorded in 2017.

However, Chinese music enthusiasts are increasingly dissatisfied with local festivals.

Tickets are increasingly expensive and lineups often feature the same overexposed performers, who have been pushed by management agencies. One incentive for Chinese festival-goers to travel overseas is the greater value offered by more diverse, international lineups.

Frustrated with the repetitive commercial lineups at Chinese music festivals, Hu flew to Fuji Rock to see bands like Oasis. “International artists barely come to mainland China for performances. Fans like me have to travel overseas for them,” he explained.

For Shelly Luo, Fuji Rock is the physical manifestation of utopia. With 15 years of experience in China’s music industry as a manager, the now 39-year-old first attended Japan’s Summer Sonic in 2016 and has been flying to Japan for festivals since then. Over the years, she noted a significant gap in musical development between China and other countries — not just how certain Chinese artists clog up concert and festival lineups here, but also how fans’ musical tastes can be broader elsewhere.

Luo brings up a recent performance by Taiwanese artist Hsuan Huang (aka Yellow) on popular singing competition show Singer as an example. Huang’s experimental blend of jazz, soul, folk, and R&B, delivered with a vaudeville flair, didn’t connect with viewers, who left comments online labeling his music as eccentric and bizarre. For Luo, this reaction reflects a preference among Chinese audiences for mainstream music over more innovative and avant-garde styles.

“Going overseas for music festivals is the best way to keep updated with music development and get a better sense of music taste across the globe,” she said.

In fact, the willingness to travel farther encapsulates a shifting attitude toward office life among white-collar workers in China. From “involution” to “lying flat,” there has been a surge in anti-hustle sentiment as more young people prioritize their personal lives over work. Sarcastic terms like “社畜” (corporate slave, shèchù),” “牛马” (livestock, niúmǎ), and “打工人” (laborer, dǎgōngrén) mock working life, and resignation parties celebrate the end of employment. And for some, flying overseas for a music festival is the perfect way to make the most of their meager time off.

“Work-life balance is a myth in China, so you have to create your balance,” said Queenie Fan, a 26-year-old woman who works in marketing in Beijing.

Going to music festivals is her way of finding balance. In April 2023, Rolling Loud, one of the largest hip-hop festivals in the world, took place in Pattaya, Thailand, featuring big-name artists like Travis Scott, Cardi B, and Jay Park. Like many others, Fan took days off from work to attend this event. Despite having to respond to work emails during her leave, she still thinks going to the festival was worth it.

“Thailand is visa-free, costs are relatively low, and the ticket price was reasonable for such a lineup. I can loosen up at music festivals and fully immerse myself in a sense of freedom,” said Fan.

Indeed, it isn’t only music that is captivating Fan and other travelers. Inclusive festival experiences are also a draw for Chinese fans.

At Fuji Rock, Hu was surprised to see that music festivals could be a family activity, with playgrounds for children. Although, in his words, he’s “not young anymore,” he felt that age didn’t determine anything at this music festival, where he encountered people of all ages — from kindergarten-age kids to fellow music fans in their late 30s or early 40s.

Hu also attended Clockenflap in Hong Kong last year, where he noticed non-binary bathrooms at the festival site. As a dedicated music festival attendee for over a decade, he had never encountered such inclusivity at a festival on the Chinese mainland. This year at Fuji Rock, he was struck once again by the presence of genderless bathrooms.

“In my opinion, the best music festival is the one that includes people of all ages and backgrounds. Everyone should feel comfortable, enjoy, and entertain themselves,” he said.

Banner image by Haedi Yue.

Liu Qingyi aka 671 Wins Bronze in Women’s Olympic Breaking

On August 9th, Chinese breakdancing athlete Liu Qingyi, or otherwise known as B-Girl 671, secured the bronze medal in the Olympics after a 2-1 victory over B-Girl India from the Netherlands. The two previously competed against each other during the round robin stage of the Olympic Women’s Breaking competition, where B-Girl India claimed victory. Liu, however, quickly recovered during the quarterfinals, scoring 3-0 against Ukraine’s B-Girl Kate. Despite her unfortunate loss in the semifinals against Lithuania’s B-Girl Nicka, Liu expressed that she was glad to have found her own pace in the bronze medal match.

Liu, 18 years old, was the gold medalist in Breakdancing at last year’s Hangzhou Asian Games. Looking back on her path to her first Olympics, Liu commented that through getting ready for the Games, she gained “a deeper understanding of hip hop and gradually developed my style.” Despite missing the final, Liu still feels proud that she was able to adjust quickly after the semifinal and get into the zone for the third-place battle.

Liu Qingyi (right) with silver medallist Nicka (left) and gold medallist Ami (center). Image via Olympics.

Breakdancing was first featured in an International Olympic Committee-linked event at the 2018 Summer Youth Olympic Games in Buenos Aires, and since then the street dance has attracted increasing attention as a competitive sport. In China, breakdancing has also been on the rise. When asked about the sport’s growing popularity in the country, Liu Qingyi stated she believes its inclusion in both the Asian and Olympic Games are essential for this success. From the Hangzhou Asian Games last year to the Grand Masters Festival in Aranya this July, a growing number of professionals and rookies are competing in the sport across the country. Although breaking is currently unlikely to be featured in the 2028 Los Angeles Olympics, it is certain that more and more young, talented B-Boys and B-Girls will be getting in on the action in China.

Banner image via HK01.

Diver Quan Hongchan Makes a Splash with Slippers and Stuffed Animals

We may not all be blessed with the talent to perform a “water splash disappearance technique” (水花消失术, shuǐhuā xiaoshī shù) dive off of a ten-meter platform, but we can all own a pair of fish-shaped slippers with googly eyes.

Indeed, silly slippers, stuffed animals, and sunglasses may be the closest many of us get to resembling Quan Hongchan, the Chinese diver and Olympic gold medalist who earned a perfect score of ten on her first of five dives in Paris. On the diving board, Quan is poised and collected, yet on dry land, the 17-year-old is blunt, goofy, and irreverent, despite her status as an Olympic and world champion.

Quan is emerging as an unexpected influencer, drawing public attention to several pairs of “ugly” fish shoes.

In one video, Quan shows off her pair of pink and white fish-shaped slippers. The shoes’ toe openings resemble a fish’s mouth, paired with two adorable wacky eyes. Quan sticks out her toes and says, “My green pair is already ruined. These are so comfortable when you stick your toes out.”

Quan’s goofy slippers. Image via Chao Xin Wen.

One seller from the manufacturing hub of Yiwu said the shoes were a hard sell before the Olympics, and now, they are selling hundreds of pairs every day, at least ten times more than before.

Quan also loves carrying all her stuffed animals around. Fans shower Quan with stuffed animals following competitions, inspired by Quan’s mother’s remark that the young diver loved getting stuffed animals from claw machines but the family could not afford it.

On Xiaohongshu, fans are listing the exact prices and details for purchasing Quan’s stuffed animals, including variations of the Olu Mel turtle which seems to be Quan’s favorite.

Quan is not the only Chinese Olympian who’s attracting attention with their style. Other clothing items and accessories that have sparked Olympic “identical style” (同款, tóngkuǎn) trends include the white hair clip worn by sport shooter Huang Yuting, the Balenciaga-esque down jackets of the swim team, and tennis champion Zheng Qinwen’s many dresses.

The surge in popularity of these items speaks to the commercial potential of Chinese athletes, which brands are beginning to take a gamble for. However, part of the appeal of these products is that they are down to earth and authentic to Gen Z athletes like Quan, and therefore relatable for younger Chinese sports fans. Whether luxury brands endorsed by athletes can hold the same appeal is as yet unknown.

Banner image via Sina News.