Cover Trevor Yeung at ‘Courtyard of Detachments’ at M+, Hong Kong (Photo: courtesy of Dan Leung)
Trevor Yeung at ‘Courtyard of Detachments’ at M+, Hong Kong (Photo: courtesy of Dan Leung)
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Trevor Yeung’s adapted exhibition of his Venice Biennale showcase opened at M+ last Saturday—and he has new narratives to tell
A defunct fountain, a fishless aquarium and imitation wealth-attracting citrine spheres: these objects seem to belong to a memory or dreamscape where something feels off or absent. This aesthetic of imperfection defines Hong Kong artist Trevor Yeung’s Courtyard of Attachments, originally presented at the Venice Biennale’s Collateral Event last year.
“I grew up in a family that runs a seafood restaurant, and I spent my free time next to the fishtanks, which planted my fascination with fishkeeping,” Yeung says, recalling afternoons spent in Mong Kok’s Goldfish Street as a teenager. “This hobby has influenced the way I look at the world and create art.” His fishless installations became a way to reflect on an earlier chapter of his life.
Above ‘Cave of Avoidance (Not Yours)’ (2024) by Yeung (Photo: courtesy of South Ho)
‘Cave of Avoidance (Not Yours)’ (2024) by Yeung (Photo: courtesy of South Ho)
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Now, Yeung brings an adapted version of that show back home. Titled Courtyard of Detachments, the exhibition—which runs until October 12 at M+, West Kowloon—continues to explore relationships between humans and aquatic ecosystems. This time, however, it does so through the lens of detachment.
Visitors enter an ultraviolet-lit corridor lined with fishtanks, an installation piece called Cave of Avoidance (Not Yours) (2024). While the number of tanks remains unchanged, they contain neither fish nor water. Instead, white noise—produced by the tanks running empty—reverberates through the gallery. “I wouldn’t call this an arrangement ‘in reverse’,” Yeung explains. “It’s about moving on. Departure doesn’t always mean leaving. Sometimes it means not wanting to let go of a relationship or place—or avoiding the idea of leaving at all.”
Above Installation view of ‘Courtyard of Detachments’ at M+ (Photo: courtesy of Dan Leung)
Installation view of ‘Courtyard of Detachments’ at M+ (Photo: courtesy of Dan Leung)
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One tank features moss that appears to have dried out after the water was removed. “I intentionally kept the moss and the water residue to capture a moment from the past,” Yeung says. Nearby, a framed photograph of a couple choosing goldfish in Goldfish Street, titled Couple in Bubbles (2024), hangs above secondhand furniture sourced from factory buildings. “I find that moment of the couple rather romantic,” he adds. “I might be romanticising it, but if you’ve ever been in a relationship, you’ll know the feeling of being unwanted—like during a breakup.”
By juxtaposing these elements—the empty tanks, discarded furniture and photograph—Yeung invites viewers to find meaning or fragments of their own story in these objects. “I hope you discover a part of yourself here, and maybe even some solace,” he says.
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Above The installation view of ‘Courtyard of Attachments, Hong Kong’ in Venice (Photo: courtesy of Ela Bialkowska and OKNO studio)
Above The installation view of ‘Courtyard of Detachments’ (2025) (Photo: courtesy of Wilson Lam and M+)
The installation view of ‘Courtyard of Attachments, Hong Kong’ in Venice (Photo: courtesy of Ela Bialkowska and OKNO studio)
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The empty fishtanks also reflect a changing Goldfish Street. “The violet lighting and manual fishkeeping methods popular in the 1980s and 1990s are hard to find today,” he says. “People now use automatic pumps and filtration systems.” The lifeless tanks, he notes, are a way to preserve a moment suspended in time.
Yeung has recontextualised many pieces for the Hong Kong setting. In Venice, his fountain featured flowing water—appropriate for a European courtyard. At M+, the indoor fountain is waterless. He added gel streaks to simulate water stains, suggesting wear and usage. Surrounding it are wooden benches for contemplation. “It’s like a construction site in progress,” he says. “Unlike Venice’s open courtyard, this hall creates echoes. Instead of a communal space, the installation becomes one where visitors can explore their inner voices.”
Above ‘Rolling Gold Fountain’ (2024) by Yeung at the 2025 installation at M+ (Photo: courtesy of Wilson Lam and M+)
‘Rolling Gold Fountain’ (2024) by Yeung at the 2025 installation at M+ (Photo: courtesy of Wilson Lam and M+)
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One recurring work is Rolling Gold Fountain, featuring five yellow crystal balls turning continuously in a fish tank. “None of them are actual citrine,” Yeung reveals. “People often buy what they think will bring them wealth without checking if it’s authentic. This piece pokes fun at how belief can become detached from truth.”
To Yeung, creating installations is about “manipulating a space so viewers can experience a journey”. For him, artmaking and fishkeeping share common ground: “When you care for fish, you control the filtration, the feeding, everything necessary for their survival. It’s a controlled space, handled with care. In my art, I’m borrowing nature and the aquarium as metaphors for life.”
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Zabrina is the Senior Editor, Arts and Culture of Tatler Hong Kong. She specialises in performing arts, visual art and film. Her wanderlust was first fuelled by the Mighty Rovers Antarctica Expedition 2010. Over the years, she has interviewed A-list artists and filmmakers, including Oscar winners Chlóe Zhao and Tim Yip, Golden Horse winner Sylvia Chang, In the Mood for Love cinematographer Christopher Doyle, Pachinko author Min Jin Lee, and Coachella’s first Chinese solo singer Jackson Wang. She won gold at the WAN-IFRA Asian Media Awards for her 2021 feature on the waves of hate crimes targeting Asian Americans.
