Over the past decade, photographer Morris Lum has embarked on an extensive documentation project, capturing the evolving landscape of more than 20 Chinatowns across the United States and Canada. His new book presents a comprehensive visual archive that reveals how these historic Asian enclaves are transforming in response to shifting demographics, economic pressures, and changing cultural influences.
Lum's photographic collection showcases the constant state of change that defines modern Chinatowns. Wall murals appear and disappear, restaurant menus adapt to evolving customer preferences, and colorful storefronts fade as family businesses succumb to rising rents or the disinterest of younger generations. "That's the life cycle of a Chinatown," explained Lum during a video interview from his Toronto home, emphasizing his mission to "keep a record of Chinatowns" for posterity.
The photographer's journey has taken him from Chicago to Winnipeg, documenting everything from traditional courtyards and alleyways to community buildings including clan associations and Methodist churches. These spaces have historically provided refuge and fellowship for generations of Asian diaspora communities. However, it's the eye-catching bilingual facades of local businesses – gift shops, bakeries, insurance agencies, reflexology centers, florists, groceries, travel agencies, and acupuncture clinics – that truly bring his work to life.
Lum's archive serves as more than just historical documentation; it captures real-time evidence of evolving migration patterns and demographic shifts. In Philadelphia's Chinatown, a gleaming new K-Beauty cosmetics store stands where a poke bowl and tea bar once operated, reflecting the meteoric rise of South Korean beauty products in North American markets. Similarly, newer storefronts increasingly display simplified Chinese characters rather than traditional ones, indicating that mainland Chinese immigrants now significantly outnumber earlier waves of migrants from Taiwan and Hong Kong.
The specter of gentrification looms large throughout Lum's photographs. Many Chinatowns historically occupied prime downtown locations near busy ports or densely populated urban centers due to their commercial origins. These areas have become prohibitively expensive in many cities, forcing family-run businesses to contend with higher rents and increased operational costs. The exodus of traditional communities that once patronized these establishments compounds the economic challenges.
Several businesses Lum documented have permanently closed since he photographed them. New York City's New Golden Fung Wong Bakery shuttered in 2024 after more than 60 years of operation in Manhattan, while Vancouver's Ho Sun Hing Printers closed in 2014 after over a century in business. The circumstances vary – Ho Sun Hing reportedly struggled to adapt to digital printing technology, while New Golden Fung Wong was replaced by another bakery, suggesting ongoing demand for traditional services.
The COVID-19 pandemic particularly impacted these communities, both economically and socially. Author and academic Lily Cho, who wrote the introduction to Lum's book, noted that the outbreak of anti-Asian sentiment stemming from the virus's origins in Wuhan, China, highlighted how Chinatowns have historically served as places of both refuge and vulnerability. For many businesses, mask mandates and takeout-only dining were commercially devastating and contrary to what Lum described as "the easiness of Chinatown whereby you just walk in and know people." He recalled that "the hustle and bustle I remember from when I was a kid was completely gone."
Lum's personal connection to Chinatowns stems from his multicultural background and childhood experiences. Born in Trinidad and Tobago to a Chinese Trinidadian father and Macanese mother raised in Hong Kong, he immigrated to Canada in the late 1980s. His family settled in Mississauga, a predominantly white Toronto suburb at the time. Weekend trips to Toronto's Chinatown for banquet-style dining and Asian grocery shopping provided his parents with "that sense of familiarity that wasn't really present in suburbs."
This emotional connection continues to influence Lum's work today. He experiences a similar sense of comfort when entering Chinatowns for the first time, even in unfamiliar cities. "There's this vernacular in most Chinatowns that, once you come across a restaurant or business that has both languages, you feel like, 'Oh, this is a place that I feel familiar with,'" he explained.
Despite their similarities, each Chinatown maintains its unique character. Some feature elaborate ceremonial gates and sprawling layouts, while others quietly integrate with existing urban architecture. Some prioritize pedestrian access, while others center on major traffic intersections. The oldest date to the mid-19th century, while newer enclaves have emerged in recent decades or, like Toronto's, relocated following World War II urban development.
Lum's favorite Chinatown remains San Francisco's, which was largely rebuilt after the 1906 earthquake but traces its origins to the California Gold Rush of the late 1840s. "The density, the way the streets are built and just the amount of people – you can see the layers of the different architecture that have been placed on top of it," he observed. "It was the first Chinatown I visited in the US and, compared to Canada, it felt almost like Disneyland."
The photographer's technical approach involves analog film rather than digital photography. He begins each visit by wandering streets with a simple 35-millimeter point-and-shoot camera, noting locations for later return visits with tripod and large-format equipment. His long exposure times necessitate early morning shoots before businesses open. Interior photographs capture indirect signs of life – empty chairs around abandoned mahjong games or ancestral altars recently replenished with flowers.
Despite documenting decline and closure, Lum's archive also showcases numerous success stories. San Francisco's Li Po Cocktails remains a cult favorite dive bar famous for its trademarked Chinese mai tai. The Lingnan, which opened in 1947, now holds the distinction of being Edmonton's second-oldest restaurant. Oakland's Yuen Hop Noodle Company has evolved beyond local footfall to become a major distributor and wholesaler.
Lum finds reason for optimism in his interactions with younger community members and entrepreneurs. "A lot of younger people are interested in opening up shops or being in Chinatown, because it brings this sense of familiarity to them, this sense of home," he noted. "But also, there's this desire to want to build something." His book "Chinatowns: Tong Yan Gaai" will be published by DelMonico Books on October 28, 2025, preserving this crucial documentation of North America's evolving Asian enclaves for future generations.
