Leo Kwan: How Tea Has Chosen Me

Giving up a dream to reach for Heaven

: Joint promotion poster with Bvlgari Parfums 2004, creative and art directed by myself. The image and position of the tea brand has become very different since my departure in late 2006.

: One of the most demanding brand element was the MingCha concept store that combines a tea shop, a tea bar and a tea salon. Some of my long-hour days were spent here. It drew for me huge success in media coverage and brand awareness.

: Jane Pettigrew, the UK tea writer and dedicated tea advocate, came to visit me at the first MingCha concept tea bar. Selfridges, London.

: MingCha window display at Pacific Place, Hong Kong, my launch of MingCha in Hong Kong after the successful brand appearance in Paris

: The first tea guidebook I wrote, Not All Teas Are Created Equal, seen here packaged with tea samples as an individual product

: When the famous Japanese Iron Chef Yuji Wakiya brought his tea tour group for a round to China, he stopped by Hong Kong for a presentation and tasting, inviting me as the host.

I have done quite a number of things with my own first tea brand, MingCha. These are some documentations that are more visual. Some of the things were revolutionary then but now seem popular designs and practices in the tea trade. The brand has eventually become something else since my parting, but the experiences surely have made their imprints in me. For more details of my career journey in tea, please see my public profile at Linked In » https://www.linkedin.com/in/LeoKwan

Banks, SARS, & Tsunami

In the beginning, I had wanted to focus only in brand building and merchandizing, and let someone else take care of distribution and retail. My personality would not allow me to work well in the day-to-day operation of sales. I had hoped to maximize my capability in strategies, design and product development. Conditions worked otherwise. Anyway, notwithstanding the outbreak of SARS in 2003, retail and local business was going on track and suddenly we were expanding.

Financing for business from the extremely conservative banks in Hong Kong may be notoriously difficult now, but it was totally impossible back then. Between the tension to expand and cash flow, and some weird twists of fate, I was soon spending long hours in retail to cover shortage of appropriate senior sales staff. Marketing, production and merchandizing were still my duties; not to mention lobbying for investment. Thinking back, although I really felt uneasy working in the front line, it was educational for me to meet various personalities and to understand their feedbacks firsthand.

First Failure

Conducting a tasting session in Slow Food 2004 after being head of a delegation for Chinese traditional oolong producers during Tera Madre 2004 in Turin. Photo taken after a workshop I presented on how smart marketing can improve the business structure of traditional farm commodities.

Media coverage of my business was phenomenal. The brand shop soon became a tourist destination. All the while, however, pressure at work multiplied with that in personal life. Towards the end of 2006, as we were gaining profiles, clients and outlets, I conceded the whole company to my ex-wife in order to regain my life, and hoping to vent my two sons of the pressure caused by the mounting tensions between their parents, and to minimize damages to the company.

Initially, I was tempted to start a new tea brand afresh. Some meetings have been conducted with intending investors in Japan, but soon the finance tsunami broke out and nothing materialized. I felt no pain shelving the business plan, though. Learning what life deals me in different situations at various stages has been enlightening and keeping me busy enough.

dreams alive

Without the responsibilities to operate a retail brand, I was suddenly given with the opportunity to realize a small ambition — to create a tea reference guide independent of a tea business. The opportunity to make Tea Guardian real is therefore a luxury amidst a series of crises.

Now on a normal work day, other than those peak harvest seasons, I write, make pictures, or read about tea. I may get astray to watch a video on the internet, or stick my nose in some political debates, or go down to the market to get something for dinner. There is also the excuse of making tea by the bay window so I get in touch with the subject I write about. Mostly I do it for a break and a look at the lush mountains and peaceful bays of Sai Kung. These “country parks” can be as close as 15 minutes away on foot, where I would go with my girlfriend and younger son for hiking, or planting a tree, or sitting out in the sun; or to throw the ball or to catch a bug, whenever I can get them to. (note)

Some other time I do visits to my tea producers and studies of the markets, which can be like vacations, except for the physical hardships in some of the places.

A cup of tea for a bowl of rice

This is Heaven comparing to the 13-hour workdays that I used to have for over 14 years. It is life again being able to exercise, cook a meal, go to the movie, read a book, visit my mom and spend time with people whom I like, regularly.

I feel blessed that pieces of my life have come together again in what I am doing now and I have the hope of contributing a tiny effort to a more popular improved understanding of tea. While I sip an oolong with a limited annual production of 5 kg at my bay window, I have not forgotten what it means when even a bowl of hot rice was a celebration. I am hoping that when more people enjoy niceties as fine tea, the access for basic necessities would be promoted for others.

Leo Kwan