Xuan Hui Ng had a green finger. The artist recalls that her mother grew orchids, and watered them using water from the fishpond. “She loved Chrysanthemums
Ng’s mom, who had supported her unwaveringly all her life, died in 2000. She didn’t get to see her become a professional photographer, but you can find her in her pictures.
Cherry blossoms only bloom between one and two weeks a year, or even less. The peak blooming period is only a few days, then the flowers disappear. Ng has been following the flowers in Hokkaido and Nagano since 2016. Hokkaido is the place where Ng spent her childhood winters. It’s home to many seasonal wonders including lavender fields, hotsprings, forests and snow-capped mountain ranges.
Ng moved from Hong Kong to Japan in order to be nearer to Hokkaido. She visits the island throughout the entire year. The photographer told me that the distinct seasons, as well as significant temperature changes between day and night, create breathtaking natural phenomena such as mist, frost and diamond dust.
She’s witnessed the early spring bloom at Hirosaki Castle, in Aomori. More than 2,500 cherry blossom trees are in full bloom. Ng explains that the castle has around 50 different types of cherry trees. These include somei yoshino, shidare-zakura and yae-zakura. Every Spring, cherry blossom petals are deposited into the moat to form a pink carpet on the surface of the water.
Cherry blossoms are a fleeting phenomenon, lasting only a few days or weeks. Ng must have the perfect timing to take this type of cherry blossom photo, especially if she wants to capture flowers “in flight”, that is, as they fall and blow in the wind. She plans her trips according to the Japan Metrological Corporation’s forecasts, but there’s no guarantee that she will be at the right place at the perfect moment.
She works in whatever weather conditions are available, regardless of whether the day is sunny and warm or rainy and dark. Ng acknowledges that luck plays a crucial role. Nature and luck are “my partners in crime.” My images are collaborations with nature. They are a way to immortalize those fleeting moments.
Ng says that despite the fact that these moments are fleeting and can never be recreated, time seems to flow differently when she watches the petals fall. “It’s like I’m bewitched. I am only aware of the beauty that surrounds me. She has embraced serendipity and happy accidents. She has become more playful, cherished every moment and seen the world with new eyes.
The pictures themselves exist in a different dimension. Depending on the exposure time, the water – and the pink petals – could be frozen in the air, hovering unnaturally. Or, by using longer exposures, you could have the flowers blurred like stars in the night sky.
Ng’s works are devoid of any sense of “up” and “down.” She invites us, through reflections to walk on the clouds. Fog sheets make it difficult to tell if objects are far away or close enough to reach. A shallow depth of focus can make nearby objects appear just out of reach.
Ng’s images are like memories themselves in that they don’t move linearly, but instead compress and expand. The past is now present and the dead are once again present. The artist was able to feel her mother’s spirit with her as she made them.
When Ng’s mom died, she “buried herself” in her work (at that time, Ng was an investment banker). She says, “I ran away from grief.” I tried to avoid thinking about my mother, because it hurt so much. However, as grief ebbs, memories do too. I was losing the last of her. “Choosing to take pictures of cherry blossoms to remember her was my way of re-affirming my love for her without the acute loss.”
Her collection of cherry-blossom photography, which is dedicated to her mom, is called Remembrance. Ng says, “I think that sadness can become a habit, just like any other emotion.” When one has been sad for an extended period, it is easy to forget how it felt to be happy. The new habit of photographing nature helped me to break the spell of depression.
Ng has some of her most vivid childhood memories in Hokkaido: she would go skiing with her family when she was a child. When she sees daughters and mothers together, it makes her ache. By the time spring arrives, the pain has been replaced by wonder.
The artist says, “The flowers don’t remind me of what I lost but rather what my mother would love,” “I believe she would have admired the beauty of cherry blossoms and the shortness of their lives,” the artist tells me.