Recently I was interviewing Lee Ho-yin, head of architectural conservation programs at the University of Hong Kong. This was for a series of articles I intended to write, exploring the public art scenario in Hong Kong. I was quite struck by one of the comments Professor Lee made.

"Public art is not only about aesthetics," he said.

Lee was drawing attention to the fact that perhaps the "public" component of such projects is sometimes ignored because of a disproportionate emphasis on their finer points. After all, if citizens aren't allowed physical interaction with such artworks, he said, they might as well belong in a museum.

He mentioned the giant robot built after a Japanese cartoon character in Kobe, in memory of the devastating earthquake of 1995, as a good example of art that inspires public engagement. People take a moment to remember the disaster even as they walk under its colossal legs, perhaps leaning against one of them for a selfie. The massive warrior figure, painted in cheerful colors, serves both as a reminder of the tragedy and the way the city bounced back to life quite soon after the large-scale destruction.

Talking to Tisa Ho, director of Hong Kong Arts Festival (HKAF), the other day, I got a similar vibe. The HKAF, one of the city's most anticipated festivals of performing arts, is sometimes seen as rather elitist. It features some of the finest names in classical opera, orchestra and theatrical performances, cherry-picked from across the world, some of which are perceived to cater to the connoisseur's tastes and the tickets do not come cheap.

It was a pleasant surprise therefore to find that this year the festival line-up has a strong interactive constituent. One of their dance events, presented by Arch8 from the Netherlands, for instance, will even have the performers inviting the audience to join them on stage. A background in dancing is not necessary.

What we bring to the audience is so ephemeral by nature, said Ho.

Indeed, even the most virtuoso acting is a transient thing which continues to live only in the memory of the people who have watched it. Therefore it's all the more important, if not imperative, for people like Ho who work in arts management, to facilitate greater public engagement and encourage people to claim ownership of the performance spaces. At the end of the day the value of these performances is in what people take away from them.

Even as I listened to Lee and Ho, it occurred to me that the existence of art - and not just public art or performance art, but art of all hues - is probably more contingent on what people make of it than we sometimes care to acknowledge. Would a million-dollar painting by Zhang Daqian, for instance, mean anything if it was kept in storage? Might a superbly crafted novel be still called that if no one but its author ever got a chance to read it?

As long as people do not get round to responding to a piece of art, a sculpture is probably just a lump of metal and a painting only a few meaningless strokes on a canvas.

(HK Edition 12/12/2016 page1)