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Chung Wai Ming Recalls His Sixty Years in Radio

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I joined the field very early. The first time I took part in broadcasting was with Radio Hong Kong. At that time, there was only one radio station in Hong Kong, which was Radio Hong Kong; it was then situated at what is now the Landmark. The predecessor of the Landmark was the Gloucester House, which was demolished to make way for the Landmark. At the time, Radio Hong Kong was on the third floor.

It was quite by coincidence that I came to work on radio. I was working in film at the time. After the war, I went to school during the day and at night, I joined the Shan Yue Actors Training Centre which was founded by the so-called “fearless director” Mr Guan Qingyun. The idea was to learn about filmmaking. I didn’t intend to become a movie actor as I realized I didn’t have it in me, but my ambition was to be a director. Thanks to Mr Guan who had high regards of me, gave me the opportunity to work as his stage manager. When he was filming, I would follow him around; being a stage manager was a step every aspiring director had to go through. Work was hard. I had to remember the content of every act. For example, what kind of suit the actor Mr Ng Cho Fan was wearing, what kind of tie, and the colour of his shoes. All this had to be remembered clearly. And, also, what kind of cheongsam (qipao) the actress Miss Wong Man Lei was wearing, and the colour of her high heels. What number was this act, and what kind of setting and props too had to be noted down. This is why I say the stage manager’s work is hard. But, when we work, we really should not be afraid of hardship. This is a fact, and a lesson I learn from experience all these tens of years.

One evening after work, one of my classmates asked us if anyone would be interested in broadcasting. To us, broadcasting was a new term. We were all very curious, so everyone put up his hand to show interest. Only later did we realize this was about taking part in the radio play “The Rebirth of the Rose”. The group of us went to see the man in charge, Mr Cheng Kwan-min who was organizing the adaptation of this stage play for radio. It was a three-act play. He did the casting. He played the leading male role, and the female lead was played by Li Ni. She later emigrated and left us. I was cast as a middle-aged man, the father-in-law of the male lead. I was only about 16, 17 at the time and didn’t know how to play the role; so I went to ask my teacher. He advised me to observe the way older people spoke, or lower my voice to speak. After reading our scripts, we had an audition. The first time I walked on the very thick red carpet as I entered Radio Hong Kong in Gloucester House – the feeling I had at that moment, I can still feel it when I close my eyes now. We were there to do an audition for the producers and after they were satisfied, we had a rehearsal with the music. When all was satisfactory, the first broadcast took place on the evening of 23 November 1947. That was the first time I ever took part in the broadcasting of a radio play.

I can’t remember too clearly how I performed then, I only remember that I was extremely nervous. When the time came for the programme to start, the announcer said: “This is Radio Hong Kong Station ZEK, the following programme is a special radio play…” As he was announcing it, I was already very nervous. After the announcement, the gong was sounded, and my heart thumped with the sound of the gong. My teacher had taught us to breathe deeply, and not to think of anything except the dialogue. I did accordingly, and the airing was successful.

After the show, the whole group of us went to On Lok Yuen Café, across Des Voeux Road to celebrate and to review our work. Everyone was ecstatic, and very satisfied. At first, I had done it only for fun, and even paid for my own transportation, but surprisingly, a week later, a friend came to ask me for help. He said that in a few days there was to be a radio play but one of the actors had been hospitalized, and asked if I could help. I was very pleased. It was a detective drama called “Strange Strategy”, with only four characters. Afterwards, my classmates at the Shan Yue Actors Training Centre felt that this kind of broadcast work wasn’t bad; on the one hand, it was entertainment and it was also practical experience. As a result, we formed the Shan Yue Alumni Society and applied for air time from Radio Hong Kong for our plays. Radio Hong Kong was quite pleased with our performance.

On 22 March 1949, Radio Rediffusion which offered a cable service was founded. For $10 a month, the station sent around a technician to install the sound box at the customer’s home. Someone also came to the house to collect the fees, and while he was there, he would take the opportunity to ask the customers which station they liked and which type of programmes they enjoyed. This is the most immediate and effective form of doing a consumer survey. Rediffusion discovered that the audience was fond of radio dramas, and so produced radio dramas on a large scale, including detective dramas, family dramas, romances, period dramas, folk tales, etc… anything. This meant that our opportunity for performing increased greatly.

Several of the detective dramas are unforgettable to me. One is “The Cases of Detective Wai Lun”, the other is “The Cases of Detective Kwok Lam”. The former is a 1960s Radio Hong Kong production, the latter a Rediffusion production. I was acting in it. The main roles were originally to be played by Kwong Tien-pui and Lam Kwok Kai. The play itself had been adapted from materials that Kwong Tien-pui had collected in Shanghai. The original name was “The Cases of Detective Kwong Lam” because of the surnames of the two. But since the character “Kwong” was awkward to pronounce, it was later changed to “The Cases of Detective Kwok Lam”. However, the results of the initial recording was not very satisfactory and the advertisers were particularly unhappy with it; consequently, the roles were given to me and Li Fu Wing instead, with me playing the detective Kwok Lam郭林, and Mr Li playing the role of his assistant, Ah Leung.

The “Cases of Detective Kwok Lam” was received warmly in Hong Kong. Rediffusion in Singapore and Malaysia even bought the copyright and there, the audience raved about it. The audience in these regions was very serious about their radio dramas. During the half hour of their airing, some shopkeepers preferred to close their shop doors and suspend business temporarily. This way, they would be able to follow the plot without interruption, and also learn Cantonese. The first time my voice was aired in Singapore and Malaysia was due to this programme. This is what the audience there wrote to tell me.

After that, Rediffusion would let me handle new programmes. Later, there was a dramatized novel called “Ten Years of Marriage”. It was different from the usual radio drama in that the narrator first introduces the plot, and then the play was performed by actors. This was again followed by narration, picking up from the previous one. “Ten Years of Marriage” was adapted by special instruction of the famous dramatist Yao Ke. The original work was by the Shanghai authoress Su Qing. The story itself is fascinating, and could have been autobiographical. The main female character was Su Huaiqing. When she was first married, she had a good relationship with her husband, but he was often away from home pursuing on business so that she became quite lonely. In order to pass the day, she went to university and got to know another student, Ying Qiwen, who was not aware that she was married. They fell in love. It became very popular with the audience, so that afterwards, another of Su’s novels “After the Divorce” was adapted for radio.

Another new genre at the time was science fiction, such as the one about a group of scientists going to explore Mars. This sort of stories were purchased from overseas and adapted as 15-minute plays for radio. Science fiction dramas required special sound effects, like the countdown before the launching of a rocket and the “swishing” sounds when it was fired; these sounds could get the audience very excited. Problems too arose in the course of production. For instance, how to make the Martians sound different from Earth people? A group from the production team thought about it and eventually came up with the idea of creating what would be the Martian ‘language’ by playing the recording tape backwards. And, a character in the play would act as interpreter who would say something like “My Lord welcomes everyone to Mars!” Science fictions too became very popular.

At the time, Rediffusion charged ten dollars a month, which came to about 30 cents a day. Since it was cable broadcast, there was no extra charge on electricity, so that it was really quite reasonable. It started broadcasting at seven every morning, with music being aired fifteen minutes earlier. Some people kept their radio on all night even when it finished broadcasting at 12 midnight, thus using the radio as an alarm clock.

Later, Rediffusion asked if I would be interested in acting in martial arts dramas, and I said all right because I liked the challenged. Rediffusion introduced me to Master Chu Yu-chai, who was the disciple of Lin Shirong, and therefore the “grand disciple” of the famous martial arts master Huang Feixiong. Master Chu first told me to read “The Legend of Lu Ya Cai”; this was written in classical Chinese, but since I had gone to a Chinese primary school, I was able to read it. From then on, I studied under him to work out how to narrate martial arts dramas. Whenever the martial techniques arose in the story, he would demonstrate the movements for me personally. At the time, I was more used to playing romantic and gentle male roles, and my voice was more refined. He demanded that I trained to strengthen my voice so that the character would become more real for the audience. To do so, I closed the door to the recording studio each day and practised speaking loudly until he was satisfied. Later, we adapted “The Legend of Lu Ya Cai” for radio, and it became the first martial arts series. It went over very well with the audience. Lu Ya Cai was the teacher of Huang Feixiong’s teacher, and the series described his days as a young disciple at Shaolin Monastery. He met many famous martial art masters in the story, such as Fang Shiyu, and it described how they challenged each other to fights. Another story was about Hu Huiqian, who was always bullied and was determined to learn martial arts in Shaolin. These stories were very appealing. It was said that in those days, when the programme was aired, the herbal tea shops along Hollywood Road did a roaring business, because people sat down to listen to the broadcast, and tea that usually cost ten cents would now cost twenty.

To attract audience, Rediffusion produced a variety of programmes, and also invited Li Ngaw from Guangzhou. I believe you have all heard of Li Ngaw and his “Novels on the Air”. In those days, his drama series about Xiao Yuebai was all the rage in Guangzhou. Rediffusion also recruited superstar comic Tang Kei Chen and Fang Rong who performed the folk story of “Jigong, the Living Buddha” which became a household name. Tang Kei Chenwas able to play the role of nine different characters, but said that it was quite enough to just do seven. I used to watch him secretly to see how he could play woman, man, old man and child, and switch from one to the next so quickly. I used to listen to Li Ngaw’s “Novels on the Air” followed by Tang’s comedies. Mr Li really had his own unique technique. For example when he described a person, he could describe in detail the person’s appearance from head to toe, so that listener could easily imagine it for himself; and he makes it even easier by comparing the person to a famous actor like Gregory Peck, or Ng Cho Fan or Cheung Ying.

With martial arts dramas so popular, my work at Rediffusion was pretty busy. But it was a happy kind of busy. I was interested in acting different roles. In 1952, I left film making and joined Rediffusion as a director and scriptwriter. Film making did not have regular hours and usually took place in the evening. At the time, Kwong Ming Studio was located at 1, Kwong Wah Street; it was the first film studio operating after the war. Even the Hong Kong Film Archive has not heard of it. The site is now occupied by tall buildings. I pass that way from time to time, and relish the memory of those days. During 1952-53, “The Cases of Detective Kwok Lam” was so popular that I felt a lot of pressure. In order to experience working in the police, I joined the Special Police Constabulary. I had a picture taken of myself in uniform; I was only twenty, and the photograph made me look quite a hero. Since I was born in Hong Kong, I could join any of these three services: the Auxiliary Medical Services, the Hong Kong Defence Force or the Special Police Constabulary. The Special Police was earlier called Special Duties Police, a rather terrifying name. What I wanted was to learn about the practical work that policemen did. After training, I reported for duty at the Wanchai police station every Wednesday, and patrolled along with regular policemen. A year later, I was promoted to sergeant, and my duty was to arrange shifts and oversee policemen being issued guns and ammunition. It was work that had to be done with great care. Besides arranging for shifts at No.2 Station, i.e., Wanchai Police Station, I also arranged shifts for men at Causeway Bay Station and Shau Ki Wan Station. In addition, I arranged for patrolling officers to sign the Visiting Book at particular street corners. Quite by accident, the Duty Officer at the Reporting Room in Shau Ki Wan Station turned out to be my teacher. He taught me many practical things, such as how to pacify the parties when people came in to report an incident. This kind of working experience helped me a lot with my broadcasting work by making the characters come alive. Later, I also acted in dramas based on real cases, such as “The Cases of Liang Taiyan”. Liang had been a detective in Guangzhou, and “The Case of the Human Head” was about a case he personally handled.

In December, 1954, there was a huge fire at Rediffusion. The place was filled with smoke but the source of the fire could not be found. We rushed around helping to put out the fire and moving documents out of the building. There were only two floors at Rediffusion House, with the studio on the ground floor. Strangely enough, when the fire was raging, we were able to move all the documents out of the building, but after it was put out, we no longer had the energy to move them back.

I left Rediffusion the next year, and, at the invitation of Raymond Chow Man Wai, I joined the Hong Kong Radio Broadcast Unit of the United States Information Services (USIS). There, my main work was to assist Chow in producing different kinds of programmes, including magazines, radio dramas, sports programmes and even on location reporting. In 1956, quite by chance, I joined the Round Hong Kong Island walkathon with a colleague from the USIS. It was a 40 mile walk starting at the Government stadium, going eastward toward Chai Wan, then round the southern and western districts, through Kennedy Town, Sheung Wan, Central and Wanchai, ending at the Sing Tao Building. My colleague took it very seriously. He bought new shoes and new socks for the walk. Despite his good intentions, it ended in disaster. As soon as he got to Chai Wan, boils appeared in his feet. I, on the other hand, was just wearing the old rubber shoes I usually wore for football, old socks and an old sports outfit. He had to give up at Chai Wan and I was forced to continue on my own. Thanks to Raymond Chow cheering me on all the way, offering drinks, chocolates and crackers, I plodded on. I walked till midnight. Since I wasn’t able to catch up with people in front, nor could I see people behind me, I was alone. By the time I got to Mount Davis Road, it was already one in the morning. Suddenly, I felt cramps. But I wasn’t about to give up and massaged myself while continuing down the slope. As I was approaching Kennedy Town tram terminal, I heard cheering sounds and saw about 200 people watching the race. As soon as they saw me, they shouted encouragements and urged me to go on. In response, I stuck out my chest and forgot the pain, and with their cheering and clapping, I continued toward Sheung Wan, and then Central and finally reported at the finishing point in Wanchai. I was totally bush by then; it took me almost 12 hours to finish. Since then, I was convinced that with everything, it was possible to attain my goal as long as I could hear people’s support and encouragement and be confident. I believed that as long as I had the support and encouragement of the audience and the cooperation of my colleagues, in addition to my own confidence and hard work, I would be able to achieve anything.

In 1961, I was sent to train at Voice of America in Washington D.C. When a colleague there discovered that I had studied at Tung Chi College another colleague mentioned that my teacher there was his student, so I actually met up with my “grand teacher”. They were all former students of Lingnan University who had gone to the United States for further studies and then stayed on to work in radio. Thanks to their guidance, I learnt many new things. For instance, it is usual for a clock to be hung high on the wall in a studio, but in Voice of America, the clock was hung only half way up the wall, and I asked them why this was so. They explained that when one lifted one’s head to look at the clock, it would take two seconds and having the clock hung at mid height would save time. Another example was that the paper they used for the script was yellow, and they explained that it was because white reflected too much light and yellow was easier on the eye. These things showed that they were more advanced and professional.

They felt that my voice was quite clear. Since radio broadcast relied solely on the voice for expression, the requirement for pronunciation was very high. Every sentence and every word needed to be enunciated accurately and distinctly in order that the audience could hear and understand. To achieve this, one could practise by reciting a short essay or a newspaper article in three steps, as follows. First, recite loudly and slowly, with the aim to make each sound accurate; second, read loud and fast, still aiming for clear diction. By reciting fast, one learns to read the script more efficiently. Lastly, read at the normal speed with the aim to make the sentences clear. I drilled accordingly for over ten days and found that my voice had become stronger and clearer, and my diction had improved too. I am 77 now, and maybe my voice is older, but I still speak loudly and clearly. This is all the result of this form of practice. Friends ask me when I am going to retire. Actually I already thought about it last year, but with the coming of Radio Hong Kong’s 80th anniversary, and since the audience still hasn’t turned its backs on me, I am still here.

I returned to Hong Kong after six months’ training in America to continue working at the USIS. There I only worked from Monday to Friday, and on Saturday, I acted in the Commercial Radio radio drama “The Near Perfect Crime”. This drama was translated from a foreign work. All the crimes featured in this series were very well planned, but no matter how careful the criminal was, there was always one small clue that gave him away. However, I soon quit, because though we did a lot to build up the suspense during the programme, it was constantly interrupted by commercials. In the 60s, I played in the detective drama “The Cases of Detective Wai Lun” on Radio Hong Kong. Wai Lun was a romantic and dashing detective who attracted women like flies. The story was lighthearted and amusing. It ran for an hour, but often, after 55-minute, the programme would come to a stop and the audience was invited to guess who the murderer was. The winning answer would get a prize. For the last few remaining minutes, the story would be resumed to reveal the murderer and explain how the crime had been solved. The plot was very appealing.

From 10 to 11 am on Saturdays, I hosted the Radio Hong Kong programme “Little Mailman of the Air”, and acted in radio dramas at Rediffusion in the evenings. It was a busy life, and it was unusual for someone to be able to move freely from station to station.

In 1970, the Hong Kong Radio Broadcasting Unit of the USIS closed down. I had a choice to work either in film, radio or television and I finally decided to take up the appointment as Programme Director in Radio Hong Kong. I felt that since I had already tried working at different stations and I wasn’t young any more, it would be more stable working in the civil service. After an interview, I was offered the job. After my first participation in a radio play (in 1947), I finally joined Radio Hong Kong formally as a member of its staff.

Working at Radio Hong Kong was not easy in the beginning. There was a lot of competition coming from Commercial Radio, and because radio dramas were popular, they were produced on a large scale. Every week, we produced 52 half-hour programmes that covered many genre, including detective stories, period drama, family drama, romances, etc. In addition there was a one-hour programme based on some piece of world literature, such as adapting Shakespeare’s “Hamlet”. It really was a tight recording schedule was.

Television had a great impact on radio at the time, and with the decline of Cantonese opera, the Director of Radio Hong Kong, Chow Nai-yeung, organized the Lung Cheung Cantonese Opera Troupe. One of its aims was to maintain an audience for Cantonese opera and create future fans, and another was to close the distance between radio actors and the audience. The troupe performed all over Hong Kong, Kowloon and the New Territories, and people were enthusiastic to see opera performed by radio broadcasters, and showed a lot of support for us.

We started recording at nine every morning till one, when we had a lunch break. We resumed work at two till five. After dinner we continued recording again, till nine. This went on day after day. In the event that the opera troupe was performing, radio recording would stop at five in the afternoon. After dinner, we put on our make-up and took off to got ready for the show. The performance went on till around ten when we could go home and get ready for bed. The next morning, we started work at nine all over again. There was hardly time to read the script. What I learnt was not to be afraid of too much work, or be afraid of getting the worse of a deal.

I have lived through a lot at Radio Hong Kong, and am grateful for the many opportunities it has given me. I am not afraid of being given tasks and realize that I can enrich my experience by finding solutions in difficult situations. In 1980, I was sent to represent RHK in Guangzhou soon after the Open Policy to discuss the arrangement of exchanging programmes, but unfortunately, due to the problems of copyright, we failed to reach any agreement. Later, Guangzhou sent us some Cantonese music programmes which we played on Radio Hong Kong; these were refreshing, and the audience responded well to them.

I worked in Radio Hong Kong till 1991 when I was sixty, and retired. But I didn’t really stop working. It so happened that Radio 7 received a sponsorship, and I was asked to stay on to help with the work, and so I have continued till today. Later, when Radio 7 became a Putonghua station, I switched to Radio 5 and took over programmes for the elderly. The programme “Evergreen”, started in 1981, is aired every Sunday and I am still hosting it.

As a conclusion to my sixty years of work, there have been gains and losses, joys and tears. The 52 hours of recording I mentioned just now, for example, was really backbreaking work. Yet, I learnt a lot from that. I am sure that not fearing hard work, not fearing losing out, makes it possible to succeed in any kind of undertaking.





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