Mary Agnew goes on a tour of the largest remaining private park in Hong Kong and finds out how art can help save it.

As Cynthia Lee leads our motley crew of artists, photographers, gallery owners, journalists and business people around the Dragon Garden, her emotional attachment to the eight hectares of tiered, landscaped greenery is palpable. Each segment of the expansive space is described with careful attention and brought to life with considered personal anecdotes. Her relationship with the garden began during her childhood vacations. It was the passion and pastime of her forward-thinking, philanthropic grandfather, Dr Lee Lu Cheung, who bought the property along the coast of Sham Tseng in 1949 and spent the next 20 years creating a haven of lush vegetation for his family and friends to enjoy.

Idle summer days were spent swimming in the half-Olympic-sized pool with her cousins and family members as they enjoyed the retreat from the bustling city heat. While Cynthia relays these stories you can almost hear the sound of children laughing and the gentle clink of ice-filled drinks filling the air of the now overgrown flowerbeds and barren walls of the dilapidated villas and guest houses.

The story of how Cynthia became the guardian of her grandfather’s legacy reads like something out of a Dickensian novel. After her grandfather’s death, the garden was left to his male heirs only, excluding his daughters. As time passed, contractors moved into the now highly populated area. The Lee family saw multi-storey tower blocks crowding either side of their sanctuary. In 2006 Cynthia became aware that her family had agreed to sell the property and allow the space be used for yet another gigantic concrete column. She begged them to reconsider, but years of abandonment and generational shifts meant that the property did not hold the same sentimental value for all. She then turned to the media and the Hong Kong government for help in recognising the property’s value as a cultural heritage site. The media obliged while the government remained idle. On August 31, 2006, Dr Lee Shiu, the youngest of Dr Lee Lu Cheung’s sons, intervened and bought his siblings’ stakes in the garden in an attempt to save the site from the looming bulldozers.

His dedication to his father’s wishes to preserve the grounds means that the garden and its buildings are still standing today, with his impassioned niece as acting caretaker. The grounds sadly did not survive the turmoil unscathed. The rambling floral arrangements and overgrown trees are still a welcome respite from the surrounding urban sprawl; but with practically no funding from the government and the pillaging of furniture and bespoke works of art by family members, the grounds have fallen into disrepair. Gapping gashes in the structures act as poignant battle scars, illuminating the gardens quest to remain throughout its turbulent past.

Our group is gathered here on a cold January morning, in hats and scarves, to explore the grounds ahead of a group exhibition commissioned by the Cat Street Gallery. Nine working artists have been invited to utilise the unique landscape as a creative source of inspiration with proceeds dedicated to the development of the site into a working community commodity.

Architect and artist Kasey Wong adds to his Drift City series by creating a photographic image that brings into question our conversation with our environments. As we walk through the grounds his insightful comments on the value of the specific style of architecture in the family villas reaffirms our understanding of the artistic importance of the garden.

Celebrity photographer Olaf Mueller has enlisted Cantopop-singer Kay Tse to create surreal theatrical images throughout the eerie, abandoned landscape. He walks the garden with his wife, making mental notes of where to suspend the songstress among the rustling winter trees.

Scottish sculptor Kirsteen Pieterse busily employs the head gardener to gather varying tones of wicker fallen from the garden bushes, in the hope of creating a bespoke architectural sculpture that will reflect the enclosure’s beauty through its unique materials. Each artist present is visibly moved and motivated to create something that will aid the redevelopment of the endangered habitat; but as Cynthia repeatedly reminds us, the plight is difficult and seemingly endless.

The last stop on the tour leads us to the highest level of the garden. Taking in a clear view of the bay below stands Dr Lee Lu Cheung’s empty mausoleum. He had planned to remain in the garden that he loved in death, but family disputes led to his and his wife’s remains being removed to their ancestral burial ground on the Mainland. Cynthia plans to return her grandparents remains to the site when the garden has been restored; but she insists that this must only be done with the environmental reverence and patient ethos with which the place was created.

The Dragon Garden Exhibition is at The Cat Street Gallery, Sheung Wan from Tuesday 2-Sunday 7.