a different kind of cultural revolution

I'm sitting in my office in the Fung King Hey Building, home to the English department--much less plush than my other office, but also more full of background noise (a necessity for me) and friendly distractions. There is some sort of performance going on outside my window--one student painfully wailing out some very pitchy Cantopop, followed by a second student butchering the Beatles. Is this an improvement over the jackhammers and earthmovers of two days ago? I'm not sure. The change seems appropriate, though, as Hong Kong has, for a few weeks at least, turned into a kind of cultural metropolis--an enormous and welcome change from its normal status as a shopper's paradise and an art-lover's vision of hell.

The yearly Hong Kong Arts Festival--a pretty decent mix of music, theater and dance--began last week and will be followed two weeks or so from now by the Man Hong Kong International Literary Festival, to be followed soon after by the Hong Kong International Film Festival . Throw in some unaffiliated events, and my life suddenly looks busy and exciting: heard the San Francisco Symphony last week and Franz Ferdinand on Tuesday (great concert, bizarre venue: think high school gymnasium full of shrieking white teenyboppers, businessmen in suits pulling out their Blackberries throughout the concert, and the occasional pair of Hong Kong indie kids). The highlight thus far was Allen Bennett's new play, The History Boys, which I saw on Saturday night--despite a couple of notably weak moments, I enjoyed it more than I can remember enjoying anything theatrical since Proof with Mary Louise Parker 4+ years ago. Near future commitments: Don Giovanni in March; Seamus Heaney, Pico Iyer, Ma Jian and John Banville (separately) at various points in the next three weeks. Life is good.