In Libyan Paramilitary Soldier With His Left Hand Pointing Up (2011), Leung, dresses in an army-green uniform, poses as a soldier attempting to draw attention to something happening to his left—though his signs appear to go unnoticed. The photograph itself seemingly captures an extracted moment devoid of context, prompting viewers to mentally piece together the rest of the story—like what the man could be alerting us to or whom he is addressing. If displayed alongside its original source image—showing a soldier perched atop an artillery tank, surrounded by protestors in Zawiyah, Libya (taken from an article published in South China Morning Post on March 1, 2011)—the much needed clues would allow one to gather a fuller understanding of the otherwise ambiguous figure in Leung and Wong’s work.

From the political to the cultural, Dancing Man Wearing Wooden Clogs (2014) portrays Leung posing as a Dutch dancer wearing wooden clogs with his back facing the audience. He appears to be in action as his feet are off the ground and hands captured in mid-motion. Displayed in a nearby vitrine, a short description accompanies the work’s original black-and-white photograph source, which is titled International Folk Dance Festival Open in Hyde Park, July 15, 1935. Weaving facts with the artists’ fictional narrative, the caption of Dancing Man goes on to detail the man wearing the clogs as somone who “learnt to dance from his parents and villagers,” adding that at age 40 he traveled “abroad for the first time.” Such personal descriptions are juxtaposed with the artists’ pared-down photographs and help bring their characters to life. Elsewhere, Nun With Hands Behind Her Back (2014) depicts Wong posing as a nun, with hands clasped behind her back, as if in deep contemplation. Elaborating on such ambiguities was the work’s source image, which depicts a nun in St. Peter’s Square in Rome as part of a Korean tourist promotion. In Leung and Wong’s work, the nun is pictured in the center, but with her back toward the viewers. This anonymity further adds to the intrigue—who is she, and where does she come from?

Coincidentally, the appropriation of found images in “He was lost yesterday and we found him today” is a fitting concept that mirrors the nature of the exhibition’s gallery space, which was made from repurposing an industrial warehouse. The exhibition “Museum of the Lost” poses many questions about how we deal with “official” history and perspective, archival materials, and how we perceive images and process information in our daily lives. While Leung and Wong’s fictional portraits pique one’s curiosity, it also gives agency to the imagination.

“Museum of the Lost” is on view at Blindspot Gallery, Hong Kong, until May 2, 2015.