Latest news with #mahjong
New York Times
8 hours ago
- Entertainment
- New York Times
Is the Local Weed Store the New Place to Hang Out?
A cannabis dispensary might seem like an unlikely place to play mahjong, the Chinese tile game typically associated with older Asian and Jewish adults, but that's where Leah Flacco showed up on a recent Wednesday evening in Manhattan. The game has grown in popularity with younger generations, so at a table inside Alta Dispensary in NoLIta, Ms. Flacco, 36, shuffled and matched groups of tiles among friends and strangers. The event was one of a growing number taking place at New York's cannabis dispensaries, where retailers have been making space for people to socialize. 'We want more dispensaries to do these sorts of things,' Ms. Flacco, who works in financial technology, said. 'It's hard to make friends in this city.' From intimate classes to block parties, hosting events has given dispensaries in New York a way around rules limiting their ability to market their businesses. As many Americans choose to drink less alcohol and seek connection offline, the activities allow the sellers to offer places where people can gather. Dispensary owners also hope that some of the visitors will become customers and that the events will help their businesses gain acceptance among neighbors who might still hold negative views of cannabis. Meredith Nydam, 37, said she had invited her friends, including Ms. Flacco, to mahjong night because she wanted to do something other than a happy hour. 'I don't need to go to a bar,' Ms. Nydam said. 'I can come here.' Want all of The Times? Subscribe.
South China Morning Post
4 days ago
- Entertainment
- South China Morning Post
China-based Mexican woman teaches foreigners in Shanghai how to play mahjong
A Mexican woman who has lived in Shanghai for 12 years and teaches foreigners there how to play mahjong has trended on social media. Advertisement Over the past few years, the woman, identified as Carmen, has taught overseas students the traditional Chinese game every weekend in a restaurant in the city, the Shanghai Morning Post reported. Many of the students do not speak fluent Chinese, but they understand the mahjong terms, according to a viral video about Carmen's class. A tile-based game, mahjong was developed in 19th-century China and has spread across the globe. Photo: handout They do not play the game for money. Carmen awards winners a slice of cake in the shape of a mahjong tile. 'It takes time to learn mahjong. I have many rules to explain because it is not easy to pick up,' she was quoted as saying. Her students are normally divided into groups, each one sitting at a square table. They adopt a learn-by-playing method. Advertisement 'I need to be around to provide guidance,' Carmen said.
CNA
7 days ago
- Business
- CNA
Retro flip clocks, mahjong tiles, neon signs: Meet the last masters behind Hong Kong's dying trades
Hidden from the modern dynamism of the international financial hub, Hong Kong's older generation of skilled craftspeople continue to go about their daily lives – from hand-carving mahjong tiles to moulding and twisting neon lights. During the post-war boom and the rise of the manufacturing industries, textiles, garments, plastics and electronics, and traditional crafts requiring specialised labour and skills drove the economy. In recent years, China's mass production has taken over. With the advent of technology and dwindling number of apprentices interested in doing it the old school way, many traditional handmade crafts are in danger of dying out. To preserve and celebrate Hong Kong's heritage and cultural identity, Lindsay Varty documented the traditional tradesmen and women and their stories in a coffee table book: Sunset Survivors, Meet The People Keeping Hong Kong's Traditional Industries Alive. Here are five industries you can support and buy souvenirs from on your next trip to Hong Kong: 1. HAND-CARVED MAHJONG TILES In 2014, mahjong tile making was added to Hong Kong's Intangible Cultural Heritage list of crafts, practises, and customs that the city should safeguard before it disappears. There are only about five master carvers of mahjong tiles left in Hong Kong, who apply traditional pigment powders and mix them for more vibrant colours than those done by machines. Every tile is dusted off and inspected by the master after carving and then hand-painted. Madame Ho Sau Mei at Kam Fat Mahjong in Hung Hom is Hong Kong's last female mahjong tile carver. She learned the trade from her dad when she was 13 and eventually took over the business as neither her brothers nor her children were interested in carrying on the legacy. Ho, in her 60s, carves each tile freehand without a draft; she leaves the tiles on a 100-watt lightbox so that the heat softens the surface, making it easier to begin carving. Machine-made tiles cost 10 times less than the hand-carved sets (S$600). View this post on Instagram A post shared by Humid with a Chance of Fishballs Tours 🍡 | Hong Kong Food Tours (@ilikefishballs) On Jordan Road, Cheung Shun-king (Uncle King) of Biu Kee Mahjong has been carving mahjong tiles for over 50 years. Like Ho, he had taken over his father's shop and began learning the trade as a teenager, "at that time, it was the master carvers that did the carving, and I started by preparing the paint, painting and delivering orders." View this post on Instagram A post shared by Biu Kee Mahjong (@biukee_mahjong) Both King and Ho are less productive than in their younger days and hope to continue carving sets of mahjong tiles for as long as they can. 2. TWEMCO CLOCKS These award-winning made-in-Hong Kong retro flip clocks have featured in many Wong Kar-wai films and maintain their cinematic retro design charm. And they seem to be making a comeback with the new generation. Lau Cho Hung founded Twemco in 1960; his company manufactured electric fans and diversified into clocks in 1968. They've since sold over a million. Both his sons studied electrical and mechanical engineering; they developed and patented the mechanism for the automatic flip calendar in 1969. As Wong Kar-wai's films frequently deal with themes of time and distance, cinematography often featuring Twemco clocks. View this post on Instagram A post shared by Sam is Home | Hong Kong (@samishome) The retro clocks are reminiscent of the 1970s, often found in banks and government buildings; the switching display panels continue to function the same as before and make a snapping sound when they "flip." Prices range from S$120 for the smallest ones to S$960 for the large ones. Although Chinese superstitions forbid one to gift clocks – the homonym "zhong" symbolises sending someone on their final journey (death), you can still pick up a souvenir or two for your home. Where: Cheung Fat Industrial Building. Tai Kok Tsui, 64-76 Larch St, 2/F Unit 2-5 Cheung Fat Industrial Building. 3. NEON SIGNS Part of Hong Kong's urban fabric since the 1950s, neon signs are quickly disappearing due to building regulations and the government's safety crackdown on old neon signs. In 2023, Anastasia Tsang's award-winning film A Light That Never Goes Out was a love letter to capture the vanishing neon signs in Hong Kong. There are about a dozen neon sign masters left in Hong Kong who are still honing their craft. In the 1980s, 17-year-old Wu Chi Kai started as an apprentice with his father, a neon sign installation master. Throughout his career, he created iconic neon signs, including the triangular neon sign for the Bank of China Tower, a recognisable part of city skyline. View this post on Instagram A post shared by Tom Williams (@ Neon signs have also been immortalised in classic Hong Kong films like The World Of Suzie Wong and Chungking Express, but today, cheaper and longer lasting LED lights have taken over. Neon lights last about a decade and lose their luminosity over time. In the 1980s boom, all businesses needed signages, from shops and restaurants to banks. There used to be about 40 masters making neon signs in the 1980s, but Master Wu reckons there are only about eight left. View this post on Instagram A post shared by wu chi kai (@c_kai_wu) Master Wu now has more creative freedom. He works on interiors and home decoration, collaborating with young artists and designers. The meticulous craft requires high heat to torch and bend glass tubings into desired shapes and designs, and then neon or argon gas is pumped in to give it its bright hues. His workshop isn't open to the public but he continues to give talks. All is not lost, as the younger generation is working to preserve this visual culture. Hong Kong native Jive Lau, a multimedia designer who trained with a Taiwanese neon master for several years, offers workshops at @kowloneon. 'Demand (for neon) has dropped and we are trying to keep the craft and its techniques alive by taking commissions, collaborating with organisations and brands. LED cannot replicate the effects of neon.' From Jun 29 to Jul 7, PMQ courtyard is showcasing Neon Heroes: Illuminated Dreams by artist Jerry Loo, who's collaborated with his grandfather, Wong Kin-wah. The latter is one of Hong Kong's remaining senior neon craftsmen, who has contributed to thousands of neon signs across Hong Kong. 'It truly warms my heart to see young people bringing such fresh creativity to neon," said Master Wong, 83. "I've personally started collaborating with various young artists, and while mastering the traditional craftsmanship – especially the precise bending for Chinese characters – takes dedication, I wholeheartedly embrace their new vision." View this post on Instagram A post shared by Tom Williams (@ Hong Kong NGO Tetra Neon Exchange works tirelessly to preserve Hong Kong's visual culture, and M+ museum launched a digital initiative on neon signs in 2021, preserving those that have appeared on Hollywood cyberpunk movie sets like Bladerunner and Ghost In The Shell. Veteran Master Wu's workshop isn't open to the public, but he continues to give workshops and talks while restoring old signs and creating new ones. 4. PORCELAIN Established in 1928, Yuet Tung China Works is the oldest hand-painted porcelain factory in Hong Kong and the first large-scale hand-painted porcelain factory in Hong Kong. Third-generation proprietor Joseph Tso carries on his grandfather's legacy; it is the only porcelain factory that maintains its production, which is fired in its kiln. There are only a handful of master craftsmen who hand-paint patterns on white porcelain for tableware; Tso and his team continue the traditional method of painting Canton porcelain or "guangcai'. The Intangible Cultural Heritage Office describes this as "an overglaze decoration technique where patterns are drawn then painted on white porcelain before firing at a low temperature." The process is labour-intensive and requires meticulous skills. Canton porcelain blends traditional Chinese methods with Western motifs and styles. When Hong Kong was a British colony, there were many custom orders for Western family crests, company logos and such on tableware. View this post on Instagram A post shared by 粵東磁廠 Yuet Tung China Works (@yuettungchinaworks_official) Yuet Tung China's works became known for its Canton rose porcelain – a paint pigment called "xihong" or Western red. Since the 1970s, patterns have been carefully transferred and stamped onto plain white porcelain by hand instead of hand sketching each design. The porcelain is fired in the kiln, and the designs are hand-painted with a thin brush. The porcelain returns to the kiln for the colours to set with the finishing touches. 5. SOYA SAUCE Soya sauce is a staple in Hong Kong households' cooking, and only a handful of masters still make it the traditional way. Most traditional sauce makers are family-owned, and closure seems inevitable when the younger generation has no interest in taking over. View this post on Instagram A post shared by Cha Guo 茶粿 (@chaguofilm) Yuet Wo soya sauce factory in Kwu Tung village, Sheung Shui, New Territories, has been here since the 1960s and faces the threat of urban development. Currently run by its third-generation Jack Pong, he explains that the traditional way of making soya sauce takes three to six months, requiring time to sun-dry the soya beans and the natural fermentation process. Yuet Wo also makes Chinese rice wine on-site and is one of the only two rice wine makers remaining. Pong has diversified the business by making vinegar from rice wines and introducing fruit wines like lemon and plum. He is determined to keep soy sauce production on home soil and is one of the few remaining brands of soya sauce made in Hong Kong. The Kowloon Soy Company in Central Graham Street is where I always stop by for souvenirs for friends. Since the 1960s, third-generation owner Kenneth Wong says that their shop remains the only one on the street – a throwback to the old days when traditional pickle and soya sauce shops were all over Hong Kong. Wong's factory is in Tin Shui Wai, in the New Territories, where soya beans are fermented in large earthenware jars under the sun for three and a half months. The factory founded in 1917 by Wong's grandfather still bears the original name "Mee Chun Canning Co Ltd", which had to change during the Japanese occupation. View this post on Instagram A post shared by まゆ (@mayuyudayo) The other arm of the business is canning, which has been hugely profitable for exports. To sustain the business's profitability, Wong has had to outsource part of the labour process to Dongguan for both canning and kickstarting the soya bean fermentation process in a temperature-controlled room, which they are unable to do in Hong Kong as they rely on natural airflow and ideal temperatures.
South China Morning Post
22-05-2025
- Entertainment
- South China Morning Post
How learning to play mahjong helped a Chinese-American connect more deeply to her roots
The game of mahjong brings back nostalgic memories for many among the Chinese diaspora. Maybe they remember the unmistakable clacking sound of the tiles being shuffled, or their relatives yelling out 'pong!' from across the room, excitedly claiming the tile they had been waiting for. Advertisement It is no different for Nicole Wong, who grew up around the game but never quite learned it herself until the summer after she graduated from university, in 2009. At the time, she was staying at her New Zealand-Chinese paternal grandparents' home in Dunedin, on New Zealand's South Island. It was her first time visiting them for an extended period of time without her parents – and her grandparents decided that she, too, should join their lively, impassioned games of mahjong. As they explained the rules and played game after game, she saw their personalities and competitive streaks come out in a way that was not apparent when they were just watching TV or cooking together. 'It felt special because I was seeing a different side of my grandparents,' Wong says. 02:34 Learn to play mahjong in 2.5 minutes Learn to play mahjong in 2.5 minutes By the time Wong returned to California, where she was raised, she had a basic understanding of how to play mahjong
Vogue
15-05-2025
- General
- Vogue
Mahjong, My Grandparents, and Me
Like a cherished family recipe, the way my family plays mahjong is time-intensive and involves complicated steps: shuffling, stacking, drawing, and discarding tiles. Play is led by intuition, wisdom, and strategy accumulated over time until it becomes muscle memory. While mahjong comes as second nature to its best practitioners, marinated in decades of practice, for the uninitiated it can feel intimidating to know how to start. New elements of the game seem to unfold as you're playing, privy only to the most seasoned players, leaving the rest of us to just follow along. Mahjong is a game best learned in person. However, I realized there would come a day when I'd want to play it just the way my grandparents taught me but there might not be anyone around to remind me how. This idea spooked me deeply and set me on a course to thinking about, researching, and writing about mahjong. I grew up an ocean away from my grandparents, but the game of mahjong brought us closer together, and now that they are gone, playing mahjong by their house rules—which I spent the past five years carefully taking down—is a way to remember them. I grew up in Southern California, a 12-hour plane ride away from New Zealand, where my parents lived until the 1980s. To my kid brain, New Zealand was a place where the seasons were opposite, ketchup was called tomato sauce, and the first meal you ate upon landing had to be a meat pie or fish and chips. My Chinese heritage felt secondary to my Kiwi roots, though the outside world sometimes disagreed. In my younger days, when strangers asked, with that question behind the question, 'Where are you from?' I'd get a little thrill in matter-of-factly saying, 'New Zealand,' to upend their expectations. My great-grandparents left China for New Zealand in the early 1900s, not long after the game of mahjong reached the Western world. Yet over generations, as my family has lost our Cantonese language skills, somehow mahjong has made it through. The few phrases I know in Cantonese fall into three categories: household requests (things like 'wash your hands' and 'set the table'), food-related terms, and things to say during a mahjong game. My paternal grandparents taught me how to play mahjong when I visited them for a month the summer after graduating from college 15 years ago. Despite holding dual New Zealand–American citizenship, this trip was the longest stretch of time I'd ever spent there without my parents. While friends backpacked across Europe or took summer jobs as baristas, I settled into the rhythm of my grandparents' lives, and on the weekends, we played mahjong.
