Wong Jum-sum loved music of all kinds, and had a particularly deep-seated passion for Western classical music.

In the 1950s, both Wong and classical music were finding their feet in Hong Kong society. The best they could do was to openly embrace the unknown.

To embrace the unknown, one needs support from all directions.

Thanks to Radio Hong Kong, Wong was able to listen to enticing music all day everyday, in that process learning to appreciate simultaneously the distinctive worlds of Shankar and Schubert.

Thanks to Leung Yat-chiu, he knew classical music held no special mystical aura. Whatever sounded good was good music.

Thanks to Wong Jum-sum himself, he learnt to read and absorb the principles and practices of making music, no matter whether they came from Bach or Beethoven.

Thanks to Hong Kong of the 1950s, he encountered a succession of visiting maestros, extending immensely his ideas about music and life.

Puccini: Madama Butterfly (aria: Un bel di vedremo) (1954)

East met West in the 1950s, in the shape of the Cold War, literary translation, fashion and film music. People across regions looked for stories they liked and sentiments they could share. Madame Butterfly began as an Italian opera, and had been adapted many times for the local stage and screen. Butterfly was in the air when Wong grew up.

Composer: Giacomo Puccini
Lyricists: Luigi Illica,
Giuseppe Giacosa
Performers: Victoria de Los Angeles
(Soprano), Gianandrea Gavazzeni
conducting the Orchestra e coro
del Teatro dell'Opera di Roma

Un bel dì, vedremo
levarsi un fil di fumo
sull'estremo confin del mare.
E poi la nave appare.
Poi la nave bianca
entra nel porto,
romba il suo saluto.

Vedi? È venuto!
Io non gli scendo incontro. Io no.
Mi metto là sul ciglio del colle e aspetto,
e aspetto gran tempo
e non mi pesa,
la lunga attesa.

E uscito dalla folla cittadina,
un uomo, un picciol punto
s'avvia per la collina.
Chi sarà? chi sarà?
E come sarà giunto
che dirà? che dirà?
Chiamerà Butterfly dalla lontana.
Io senza dar risposta
me ne starò nascosta
un po' per celia

e un po' per non morire
al primo incontro;
ed egli alquanto in pena
chiamerà, chiamerà:
"Piccina mogliettina,
olezzo di verbena"
i nomi che mi dava al suo venire.
Tutto questo avverrà,
te lo prometto.
Tienti la tua paura,
io con sicura fede l'aspetto.