A Portrait in Conversation with the City
A small alley in Central. Closed stalls. Painted shutters. Purple, orange, turquoise. Metal marked by time, graffiti, tape, rust, and the quiet residue of a city that keeps moving, even when the doors are shut.
That was where this story began. Not in a studio. Not in a clean white space. Not somewhere made quiet for the camera. Here, Hong Kong stayed alive around us.
The walls had their own language. The colors shifted the mood from frame to frame. Purple made the photographs feel guarded and intimate. Orange brought heat. Turquoise opened the image into something sharper, cooler, and more graphic.
Each background changed the way Merry Cheung appeared. Or maybe it revealed another side of what was already there.
Merry is a calligrapher, performing artist, teacher, and model. She has brought calligraphy into performance in Hong Kong and beyond, carrying the tradition not as something fixed, but as something alive. Something in motion. Something that can belong to the body, the hand, the stage, and the street.
For this shoot, she brought that world into the frame through a fan painted with her own calligraphy. That detail mattered. The fan was not only a prop. It was an extension of her hand, her discipline, and her presence. A visual rhythm between gesture and meaning.
In some photographs, it becomes a shield. In others, it becomes a blade of movement. Sometimes it hides. Sometimes it announces. Always, it holds power.
Stillness, Gesture, and Quiet Power
This is the first in a series featuring Merry, and I wanted these photographs to feel like a portrait in conversation with Hong Kong. Not a portrait placed in front of the city, but one shaped by it. The alley gave us texture. The closed stalls gave us color. The markings on the walls gave us tension. Merry gave the images their center.
There is a quiet force in the way she holds herself. A stillness that does not feel passive. Her gaze is direct, but not loud. Her posture is controlled, but never stiff. The smallest shift of her shoulder, the angle of her wrist, the way she lets the fan cut across the frame, each gesture changes the atmosphere.
Stillness holds power. That was the thought I kept returning to as we worked. In fashion and editorial photography, movement often gets attention first. Fabric in motion. A dramatic turn. A walk toward the camera. But here, the strength came from restraint. From the pause before the movement. From the moment when everything seems held in balance.
Merry turns style into self. The cheongsam she wore brought pattern, shape, and cultural reference into the photographs, but what made it work was how naturally she inhabited it. The floral textures, the fitted silhouette, the fan, the long black hair, the painted nails, and the sharp eye makeup all gathered around one presence. Nothing felt separate. Everything felt connected.
Culture, Color, and Confidence
Culture, color, and confidence met in her. Against the purple shutters, the images became darker and more cinematic. The white graffiti moved behind her like a second layer of calligraphy, rougher and more urban. It created a visual contrast between tradition and street culture, between the brush and the spray mark, between something practiced and something spontaneous.
Against the orange storefront, the mood changed. Warmer. Brighter. More direct. The color pulled the tones from the wardrobe and made the whole frame feel charged with heat. Against the turquoise door, the photographs became more graphic. The black marks behind her echoed the lines of the fan and the shapes in her hair. The color made her presence feel sharper, almost electric.
That is what I loved most about this location. It was small, but it kept transforming. A few steps changed everything. The same person. The same wardrobe. The same fan. A different emotional temperature each time.
For me, this is where editorial photography becomes interesting. Not simply in showing clothing or recording a face, but in watching how identity, place, and gesture begin to speak to each other. A model does not just stand in a location. A city does not just sit in the background. When everything is aligned, the photograph becomes a meeting point.
Merry carries culture as attitude. Not as decoration. Not as nostalgia. As presence. These portraits are about calligraphy, but they are also about confidence. They are about performance, but they are also about silence. They are about Hong Kong, but they are also about the personal way someone chooses to stand inside it.
A fan. A painted shutter. A narrow alley. A look held long enough to become a story.
That was the beginning.
And this is only the first chapter.
Photoshoot Credits
- Model: Merry Cheung
- Photographer: Paul Tocatlian
THE INTERVIEW
To understand Merry’s presence in these photographs more deeply, I asked her about modeling, calligraphy, performance, and the personal path that connects them. Her answers reveal a creative practice shaped by self expression, vulnerability, courage, and movement. For Merry, calligraphy is not only something written. It is something lived, felt, and carried through the body.
How did your modeling journey begin?
Start from my university time, studying fashion design. I love to wear my work to showcase my style and attitude, often modeling for myself.
How would you describe yourself as a model?
Introduce myself, embrace feminine energy, and show confidence and my attitude.
What helps you feel present and expressive during a shoot?
I can learn more about myself. How to express, control my body, and feel my emotions, like communication. I feel free in front of the camera.
What first drew you to calligraphy?
I do body calligraphy on my first try. In university, I took some sexy photos, and some people shamed and laughed at me. So, I wrote what I wanted to express on my body to convey my emotions. And let people know I can be myself and what I want to be.
It became a way to shout out and heal. I use calligraphy to empower myself and gain courage to share my thoughts and work with the world. I create body calligraphy to spread more love to others.
What does calligraphy mean to you personally?
I think calligraphy is infinity, offering me many possibilities. It can be anything, just like myself. Calligraphy takes me to new places. I plan to do it lifelong, exploring and trying new ways to present.
What do you enjoy about creating calligraphy in public spaces?
I really love the organic approach. Everything is about adaptability, and that makes it so exciting!
How does your expression change when you create on paper, on the body, or on stage?
I think all is depend on the situation. When it comes to paper work, I enjoy doing my own tasksl if I do on the body, more like a intimate communication and working closely with my partner. On stage, I see it as storytelling, where I need to consider the audience and think about how I can present a good performance.
How do you prepare for a live calligraphy performance?
I always concentrate on what I want to share and the main topic. I trust my intuition to select the best points and materials, then I will craft the story smoothly and confidently.
What do you hope people feel when they watch you perform?
Dive yourself in the energy I’ve created. It’s always like a heartfelt ceremony filled with love and positive vibes.
For brands, designers, models, and other creatives looking to create inspiring imagery, let’s connect. From fashion editorials to runway coverage to publishing your work, let’s explore how fashion and storytelling intersect, and where your next project might lead.
© Paul Tocatlian. All Rights Reserved.
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