Artists MC Yan, Invader and Thomas Lin walk Kawai Wong down memory lane to revisit the cluttered little dwelling place of the legendary graffiti artist King Kowloon

Some people think that Tsang Tsou-choi is mad. The self-proclaimed King Kowloon used the city as his royal parchment to send messages to his people.

Some saw his ‘street calligraphy’ as a nuisance, and the law certainly thought so: the King was prosecuted more than once. But you can’t call the King a vandal. Vandals’ works are faceless and weightless; but the King’s indelible calligraphy exists in many Hongkongers’ collective memory. His works have graced magazine covers, appeared on Be@rbrick toys and Vespas, and have even been sold at auctions (one for almost $500,000). Exhibitions were curated in his name and books were written to chronicle his life.

Tsang’s work needs little introduction. He used Chinese ink to paint on any available wall and surface in the city, turning it into his own “wordaland”. The unique typography attracted international attention. Artists, designers and illustrators duly paid pilgrimage to the King from all over the world. French street artist Invader tells Time Out exactly why Tsang’s work is so special: “Most of the graffiti you see around the world are made with Western alphabets. It was very interesting for me to see something different. For a start, it was extremely different from New York’s graffiti style.”

In 2001, Invader and MC Yan went to Tsang’s home at Tsui Ping Estate, Kwun Tong. MC Yan located Tsang’s approximate address via a media friend. “I didn’t need an exact address – when we got there we could smell it!” recalls MC Yan. He jokingly says Tsang’s home resembled a dirty back alley. “Or to put it in an artistic context, a really disorganised studio,” the 40-year-old laughs.

Tsang’s ‘studio’ was maximalist and minimalist at the same time. Furniture-wise, the home was extremely pared back. The 350sq ft flat had one chair, a purple bedside table and a Dai Pai Dong foldable table. He slept on a mattress on the floor, where cockroaches roamed freely. “The flat looked as if it hadn’t been tidied in years. Every single available surface in the flat had been written on. The white curtains had scripts on it. The wall was plastered with calligraphy written on paper. Pick up a cardboard on the floor and you would see writings on it,” says MC Yan. “It’s funny if you think about it. If you’re a graffiti artist, you’d never put up your own work where you live so that the police can come and arrest you.”

Tsang didn’t care about the police. In fact, he didn’t have a care in the world. He only served one purpose. “I asked what [Tsang] was doing; he replied ‘to spread messages for Tai Gong [太公]’, his ancestor. When Tsang spoke, he wouldn’t look at you in the eye,” says MC Yan. Tsang wasn’t a man of many words. He’d speak only when spoken to and his famous standard greeting was: “Do you have char siu rice [roast pork rice] and Coca-Cola?”

“If you didn’t bring char siu rice for him, you’d have to go and buy it before you were welcomed again. What amazed me was that a social recluse such as him, who led an isolated life, was so open about his work. His door was open for everybody who wished to see him. He has inspired generations of Hong Kong people to appreciate local art,” says MC Yan.

Invader was pretty much the only person who roused Tsang’s attention. “I think he was surprised and happy to see a French guy visiting him. I asked him to make some graffiti on a map of HK. He did a very nice dedicace [autograph] on it. In return, I put a Space Invader in his room,” says the 42-year-old street artist.

“Tsang told us that he had no money to buy medicine, and that he could not go outside to paint anymore because it was painful to walk. He was like a real suffering artist! Kind of like Van Gogh.”

There are different theories on how Tsang Tsou-choi began writing on the street. The most plausible theory, according to Tsang’s son, is that in 1956, the 35-year-old Tsang was involved in a serious traffic accident near the Three Mountains King’s Temple [三山國王廟] in Choi Hung. After he came out of his coma, his temperament changed completely. Tsang began scrawling on the street, recalling facts he had once read at his ancestral hall back in Liantang Village, China, where Tsang was originally from and where his wedding took place. He had read that his great-grandfather was Tsang Gwong-jing, a prime minister in Zhou dynasty who was a major landowner in Hong Kong.

Tsang mostly wrote about three subject matters: history, ancestry and family. Believing he was a messenger for Tai Gong and related to the Imperial family, he would curse the Queen of England for seizing his land (Kowloon) without his consent. Historical events would be mentioned but were most likely quoted incorrectly or incoherently. Tsang also calligraphied facts about his ancestors, naming individuals from his family tree. His own family was also one of his subjects. He would mention his wife and his children’s names and their addresses.

It’s almost five years since Tsang died of respiratory disease and heart failure at Kowloon hospital, aged 86. This April, Hong Kong will see the largest Tsang Tsou-choi exhibition, co-presented by Swire Island East and Hong Kong Create.

The six-zone exhibition, ‘Memories of King Kowloon’, features over 300 calligraphy inscriptions by Tsang, including works on paper and on various objects. There are also some “royal possessions” on display. There is a zone where artists made tribute work to commemorate the King. Thomas Lin’s tribute video, Tête-Bêche, was filmed with an inverted video camera (an inverted Joel Chung acts as a reincarnation of Tsang and calligraphies the right way round in public places.) The message is that society might often be wrong, but one’s value should always be right.

“As a kid I always saw Tsang drawing on the street, but I never thought about approaching him, let alone question why [he was doing this],” says Lin.

“A year after he died in 2007, I began studying the culture of Hong Kong and chose Tsang as my topic. I think Tsang has left a huge question mark for us: how come nobody really valued his work when he was alive? And after he died, the government wasted no time to erase his work – which was by then renowned internationally. Tsang initiated a much needed debate about art in Hong Kong: does public art affect our lives? It’s about time we all start thinking.”

Memories of King Kowloon ArtisTree, 1/F, Cornwall House, Taikoo Place, Quarry Bay, 2284 4877; www.islandeast.com.hk. Free admission, guided tour available on selected Saturdays and Sundays, Apr 20 - May 31, 10am-8pm daily, last admission 7.30pm.