The timing of singer Sandy Lam Yik-lin's comeback could hardly be better. With the lamentations of Canto-pop pundits that there are no real stars in the business any more, following the untimely deaths of Roman Tam Pak-sin, Leslie Cheung Kwok-wing and Anita Mui Yim-fong, it was only natural that Hong Kong's hungry press should have taken more than a passing interest in Lam's return
to the stage.
Two months ago, the name Sandy Lam might have resided in the 'where are they now?' section of artists. She had 10 years at the top, from the late 1980s to the 90s, with a string of hit albums and sold-out concerts. And just when she was at the pinnacle of her profession, six years ago, she gave it all up for love and motherhood and seemed to fade out of the spotlight. Her most recent original album, Truly Sandy, appeared in 2001, the same year she last performed in Hong Kong. In an industry where fame is measured by one's visibility, some thought she had moved on.
Lam is treading carefully as she steps back into the Hong Kong limelight. She has chosen to test the water by performing a series of concerts with the Hong Kong Philharmonic Orchestra, in collaboration with singer and composer Anthony Lun Wing-leung. There's a hush about pending recording deals. And at a packed press conference recently she played the part of the true diva by turning up more than an hour late, accompanied by an entourage including her image consultant and management-company figures who fussed over her before every photo opportunity.
So it comes as a surprise that when the time finally arrives for an audience with Lam, she is demure and warm, polite if reserved. She hasn't changed a bit, looking girlishly sexy at 37 in a black top, billowy trousers and a leather jacket, her diminutive frame heighten by stiletto heels. It had seemed as if Lam were intent on easing herself off the Hong Kong music scene. 'No, no,' she protests. 'I'm yearning to see my fans as much as they are waiting to see me. It's just that in the past few years my career path has taken me to Taiwan, Japan and mainland China. It isn't as if I haven't been working; I just take longer to produce an album.' So her concerts with the Hong Kong Philharmonic don't really amount to a comeback, she says. Like many of her contemporaries Lam has courted the China market, notably when she performed, in Putonghua, the first number of musical Les Miserables at last May's Beijing opening, presided over by impresario Cameron Mackintosh.
'I've been working steadily, but maybe the work hasn't been highly visible in Hong Kong. I've also been performing in shows on the mainland and at private functions,' she says. Lam has called Beijing home for five months now; before that she lived in Shanghai for two and a half years and Taiwan from 1998 to 99. 'I've always liked Beijing,' she says. 'I feel that in China, if you really want to make music and experience the culture, then Beijing's the place to be.' Her previous sojourns, however, were really the result of circumstances. The time spent in Taiwan allowed her to be close to her husband, singer-songwriter Jonathan Lee Zhongchen, and their daughter Hsi Erh (now five and a half). Living in Shanghai allowed Lam to be close to her mother, who was ill. Beijing, however, has proved the most inspirational. 'There's a sense of history to the place and the people have a lot of pride. The new generation of Beijing musicians have that background and are bold. I am learning every day. Even the direct, opinionated way they speak is something new. I really enjoy it.' The other stops probably reflect the restlessness in an idealistic singer who just wanted to make music, but who also had to put up with the scrutiny celebrities have to endure in Hong Kong. 'I'm not fond of the limelight,' she admits. 'I just prefer to live in private. There are many things I would like to do. I want to be free but there are certain things I know I can't do.'
Lam admits she greatly misses Hong Kong, especially visits to wet markets and chatting with stallholders and housewives. 'That connection between people is so amazing, and that's what music is all about too. I still have the feeling of being adrift sometimes, always asking myself, 'Am I going to make this city my home?' It's a very important process to go through,' Lam says.