Reviews & Articles

圖片說明：

澳洲維多利亞國家美術館舉辦為期三天的墨爾本藝術書展，然而書展在開幕第二天後，美術館便須和世界各地主要美術館一樣，為預防新型冠狀病毒蔓延而閉館。圖片: 約翰百德

Caption:
In Australia, the 3-day Melbourne Art Book Fair was hosted by the National Gallery of Victoria; the following day the gallery closed, like other major galleries throughout the world, as a precaution against the spread of Covid-19. Photo: John Batten



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我第一家畫廊在一九九七年開幕，與我另一門生意共用位於上環的改裝辦公室。一九九九年亞洲金融風暴重擊香港，租金急跌，讓我得以搬到中環卑利街一間前身為陶瓷店的鋪位。中半山扶手電梯開通後，該區與中環的連接更加緊密，新的酒吧、食肆和畫廊陸續開業，形成了「蘇豪」。那時候，舊有的餅店、陶瓷店、佛教尼姑庵和廟宇、理髮店、糧油雜貨和洗衣店，還有一些舊式中式酒家仍然繼續經營；金融危機令物業和租金沒有飈升，讓這些舊店可以短暫地休養生息。

一九九〇年代末至千禧年代初，中環與港島和九龍很多其他地方一樣，仍然保留了區內自上世紀五、六十年代已開業的老店和行業，洋溢老香港的舊城氣氛。整個蘇豪區內的店家互相認識也互相扶持，他們都會在本區購買日常用品。我特別喜歡在堅道一間歷史悠久的五金店買東西，梁先生和梁太太的窗簾及五金店現時仍留在區內，但已搬到鴨巴甸街的後巷。我通常會在區內四間茶餐廳或冰室吃早餐和喝咖啡。四間店都已結業，換成了酒吧、食肆或「時裝精品店」。

我最喜愛的茶餐廳位於伊利近街和卑利街交界，冬日的和煦陽光剛剛可以照到它的室外座位。多年來，很多藝術家和訪客和我一起在這裡喝咖啡、吃茶點，在西式咖啡店進駐本區以前，這就是我們的本土咖啡室。在二〇〇三年沙士疫情肆虐期間，我如平日一樣走進店內，兩位侍應也如常一個粗豪一個友善地跟我打招呼。那天早上，兩人更就老闆要他們戴上的口罩說笑。我是全店唯一的顧客。幾天後，我仍然是店家的唯一一位客人，但員工已沒有再說笑了。他們很快明白，沒有顧客會威脅生計。

在澳洲過了五星期後，我在上周回港。在澳洲的幾十天內，我看着澳國對新型冠狀病毒由最初的自滿變成勉強覺醒，然後在疫情席捲全球後手忙腳亂地回應。澳洲嚇然驚醒的一刻發生在二〇二〇年三月十一日，即世界衛生組織正式宣佈大流行已發生時。此語一出，代表新型冠狀病毒不僅在本地傳播，而且是整個區域和全球爆發。意大利、伊朗和西班牙確診個案突然急增，顯示病毒那時已擴散至亞洲以外，觸發了世衛對新型冠狀病毒緊急狀況發出遲來的升級。但有說令澳洲人更為震驚的，是大型體育項目也得取消。世衛宣佈大流行後數天，格蘭披治一級方程式賽車在首輪練習賽的早上宣佈取消墨爾本站賽事，當時數以千計的賽車迷正等候進入賽道現場觀賽。一天後，政府機關迅速推出社交距離措施，下令所有大型公眾活動實行人流管制。正如香港已經歷過的一樣，多項社會服務和康樂設施即時關閉，主要文化及體育活動相繼取消。海外國界極速封關；而美國和歐洲也開始封城鎖國，國際航班大幅減少，沒有人坐飛機，也沒有飛機可以讓人坐。

澳洲媒體嚴厲質疑為什麼澳國衛生機關和政府沒有及早開始在媒體發出衛生警告，又或者實施中國、香港、新加坡和南韓兩個月前已開始的社交距離措施。

隨着全球股市急挫和大幅波動，因為新冠病毒疫情引起的旅遊和經濟亂象和經濟後果迫在眉睫。任何生意人都知道，有正現金流才能支持業務健康發展。穩定的現金流代表租金、人工都可以準時支付，而欠款有其法律後果，可以迫使商號倒閉。沒有現金便會引至清盤。一家商號倒閉，同一供應鏈的其他商號也會受影響，因為現金流問題造成骨牌效應。失業情況會緊接其後，可見現金危機會影響個人和家庭，特別是那些負債累累，有大量信用卡卡數和按揭要支付的人。

各國政府正竭力透過檢疫隔離和封關等措施來控制新型冠狀病毒感染情況，這樣醫院和醫療系統才不會因為急增的嚴重病例而不勝負荷。然而，各國政府也必須應對現金危機對各行各業和個人的影響，特別是藝術家和自由工作者等臨時工。如果新型冠狀病毒危機和旅遊及自由流動的限制須繼續執行一個月或以上，就像二〇〇三年時我的茶餐廳侍應朋友一樣，沒有人會再說笑。經濟後果已經刻不容緩：很多商號，包括所有人在香港都喜愛的咖啡店、小販攤檔、報攤、食肆、航空公司、文化機構和雜誌—是的，雜誌也不例外—將會因為沒有現金來支付各種帳項而逐一倒閉。

因此，如果你的經濟情況許可，請繼續支持你欣賞的各行各業、組織和臨時工，幫助他們捱過這場前所未有的環球現金流危機。


原文刊於《明報周刊》，2020年3月26日

The cash-flow crunch

by John Batten


My first art gallery was in a converted office in Sheung Wan in 1997 – sharing half the space with another business I ran from that office. Then, as the Asian financial crisis hit Hong Kong hard and rents fell, I moved in 1999 to a former ceramic goods shop in Peel Street, Central which I renovated. Spurred by better access to Central when the Mid-levels escalator opened, bars, restaurants and galleries had started opening and the area became known with its ‘SOHO’ moniker. The old bakeries, ceramic shops, Buddhist nunnery houses and shrines, barbers, grocery and laundry shops and some old style – like Gwai Yu – Chinese restaurants; all were still open then and were given a brief reprieve as the financial crisis kept property and rental prices in check.

SOHO in the late 1990s and early 2000s, like many places on Hong Kong island and around Kowloon, still retained its older shops and businesses dating back to the 1950s and 1960s: it had Hong Kong’s ‘old city’ ambience. All the SOHO businesses knew and supported each other by buying necessities locally. I particularly shopped at the archaic hardware shop on Caine Road, and, Mr Leung and his wife Grace’s curtain and handyman shop, which is still in the area, but now down a back alley off Aberdeen Street. I usually ate at one of the four local cha chan teng or dai bing for breakfast and coffee. All four have now closed, their former premises now bars, restaurants or ‘boutiques.’

My favourite cha chan teng was on the corner of Elgin Street and Peel Street; its outdoor sitting area always just catching the afternoon winter sun. Many artists and visitors over the years joined me for coffee and a snack there – it was our local coffee shop before any of the western-style cafés had opened. At the very start of the SARS outbreak in 2003, I popped in, as usual, to be greeted, as usual, by a gruff, from one, and a friendly “hello” from the other waiter. That morning, the two waiters also joked about the face masks their boss had given them to wear. I was the only customer. A few days later, I was still their only customer and the staff were no longer joking – they quickly understood that having no customers was a threat to their own jobs.

I returned to Hong Kong last week, after spending five weeks in Australia. Over those weeks, I watched Australia’s complacency towards the Covid-19 virus, then grudging awareness, and then a hurried, urgent response as the virus spread around the world. Australia’s pivotal moment of reckoning was on 11 March 2020 when the World Health Organization declared a pandemic – a term that simply means that Covid-19 is now spreading not just locally, but regionally and world-wide. The WHO’s belated upgrading of the Covid-19 emergency was triggered by the alarming increase of infections in Italy, Iran and Spain, indicating that the virus was now spreading outside Asia. Arguably of greater shock for Australians was the cancellation of a major sporting event. A few days after the WHO announcement, the Formula 1 motor racing Australian Grand Prix in Melbourne was cancelled on the morning of the first practice rounds as thousands of fans were waiting to enter the speedway track. A day later, social distancing measures and crowd restrictions at larger audience events were quickly ordered by government agencies. As experienced in Hong Kong, social services and recreational facilities were immediately closed, and major cultural and sporting events cancelled. Overseas, borders were rapidly being closed; and, the USA and Europe began a lock-down as airlines severely cut back on international flights: no-one was or was able to fly.

The Australian media vigorously questioned why Australia’s health authorities and governments had not begun media health warning announcements earlier and imposed the sort of social distancing measures China, Hong Kong, Singapore, and South Korea had implemented two months ago.

As stock markets plunge and remain volatile around the world, the economic ramifications of the travel and economic chaos caused by Covid-19 is now hitting home. As anyone who has run a business knows, a healthy business is only possible with a positive cash-flow. Steady cash-flow means rental payments and staff wages are paid on time. Non-payment has legal ramifications that can force a business to close. No cash can lead to insolvency. When a single business fails, other businesses in the supply chain are adversely affected creating a domino reaction amidst their own cash-flow problems. Unemployment then enters the equation as the cash crunch affects individuals and families, particularly those with high debts, such as credit-cards and mortgages, to pay.

Governments world-wide are grappling to flatten-out Covid-19 infections by imposing quarantine and border closures, so hospitals and health systems are not overwhelmed by a spike in serious cases. However, governments must also tackle the consequences of a cash crunch on businesses and individuals, particularly casual workers (including artists, actors and freelance workers). If the Covid-19 crisis and restrictions on travel and free movement continues for much longer than another month, then, just like my cha chan teng waiter friends in 2003, no-one will be joking. The economic ramifications are dire: many of the businesses, including cafés, hawker stalls, newspaper stands, restaurants, airlines, cultural institutions and magazines – yes, magazines – that we all love in Hong Kong will close, simply because they don’t have the cash to pay their bills.

So, if you are in a reasonable financial position, continue supporting businesses, institutions and casual workers that you admire, to help get them through this unprecedented, universal cash-flow crunch.



This article was originally published in Ming Pao Weekly on 26 March 2020. Translated into Chinese by Aulina Chan.