MY HOME, my home 我家
Full Video - Duration: 1 hour, 8 minutes
MY HOME, my home 我家
Full Video - Duration: 1 hour, 8 minutes
MY HOME, my home
I grew up in Hong Kong, where I spent 22 years in a place I once believed would always be my home. For a long time, that belief felt unquestionable. The city held my memories, my routines, and the life I thought I would continue to build.
But everything began to shift. The Hong Kong protests, followed by the pandemic, did not just change the city around me—they changed how I experienced it. What once felt stable and familiar slowly became uncertain and fragile. The sense of permanence I had taken for granted began to dissolve.
As the future grew more unclear, I found myself standing between what I knew and what I could no longer hold onto. Staying no longer felt possible in the way it once had. And so, with hesitation, loss, and a quiet sense of necessity, I made the decision to leave.
Scene I: Last Day in Hong Kong
On my last day, I began to listen differently.
The city I had known for so long no longer felt ordinary—every sound, every moment seemed to carry a weight I had never noticed before. The familiar rhythm of traffic lights, the distant voices and announcements of the MTR, the paths I had walked countless times—all of it felt fragile, as if it could slip away at any moment.
There was a quiet sense of unease, a feeling I could not fully name. At the same time, there was a deep reluctance to let go. I found myself trying to hold onto everything—to remember each sound, each passing moment, each fragment of the city that had shaped my life. Even the smallest details began to feel significant, as if they might become the only traces I could carry with me.
Travelling Diary (2024)
Commissioned by Continuum Contemporary Music
For Flute, Clarinet, Piano, Percussion, Violin and Cello
Travelling Diary is an auditory journey through the bustling streets and subways of Hong Kong, capturing the unique soundscape of the city. The composer, who grew up in Hong Kong, has transformed everyday mechanical sounds like traffic lights and subway announcements into musical motifs, seamlessly weaving them into a rich tapestry of tones and textures.
For those familiar with Hong Kong, the distinctive announcements in Cantonese, Mandarin, and English will evoke a sense of nostalgia. For others, this work provides a fresh exploration of urban soundscapes, blending the mechanical with the musical to create an immersive experience that captures the essence of the composer's hometown.
Enjoy this unique blend of tonal and industrial sounds, offering a personal reflection and an invitation to experience the vibrant city through the ears of someone who calls it home.
Composer - Fish Yu
Conductor - Kelly Lin
Flute - Jordana Kleiner
Clarinet - Cheng Cheng
Piano - Carina Shum
Percussion - Britton-René Collins
Violin - Joelle Crigger
Cello - Samantha Yang
Audio-Video - Fish Yu
Scene II: New Journey in Canada
Arriving in Toronto, everything felt unfamiliar. Although the city was open, I often found myself retreating into my room, where my world became small and contained. It was difficult to connect with others in a new environment, especially through a different language, and with masks covering our faces during the pandemic. Even the simplest interactions felt distant—I could not fully recognize others, and in many ways, I felt unseen as well.
As time passed, I began to step beyond that space. I slowly reached toward the community around me. I began to rediscover fragments of familiarity in unexpected places—through food, language, and new friendships. What once felt distant gradually became part of my everyday life, as I started to build connections and find my place in this new environment.
Room, composed for Violin, Live Electronics, Lighting and Video, is an interdisciplinary work that explores time, memory, and love through the fusion of live violin performance, fixed electronic playback, real-time signal processing, lighting, and visual imagery. The piece imagines a metaphysical “room” suspended outside of linear time — a space where fragmented moments resurface, and emotional traces echo through sound and light.
Throughout the work, images and live feed of the performer are projected onto the CRT TV, blurring the lines between personal memory and universal longing. The electronics respond to and reshape the violin’s live gestures, creating shifting textures that evoke both distance and intimacy.
As the room unfolds, it becomes a vessel for reunion — a space where time bends, and love, once lost, is rediscovered. In Room, sound and image converge to ask: what remains when everything else fades, and can love be found again beyond the edges of time?
Composer - Fish Yu
Violin - Arlan Vriens
Audio-Video - Fish Yu
Recording Assistant - Patrick Wu
The God of Cookery (2024)
University of Toronto Percussion Ensemble Composer-In-Residence
For 6 Percussionists and Fixed Media
The composer grew up in Hong Kong, where enjoying Chinese food, especially dim sum, was a cherished weekly routine. Wanting to share his favourite cuisine with audiences in Toronto, he composed The God of Cookery, a multimedia work inspired by the 1996 Hong Kong film of the same name, directed by Stephen Chow. Scored for six percussionists, electronics, and video, the piece blends dramatic and comedic elements that bring the music to life.
The music was written for The University of Toronto Percussion Ensemble, which consists of three performers who speak Mandarin and three who speak Cantonese. In the piece, the performers introduce various Chinese dishes, re-create scenes from The God of Cookery, and play "percussion" instruments such as rubbish bins, iron pans, and glass bottles—objects typically found in the kitchen. These unconventional instruments, along with electronic playback and video, create a colourful timbre and texture that reflect the theme of Chinese food. The melodic and harmonic elements are primarily led by electronic playback, with synthesizer sounds crafted to evoke the era of the film.
This multimedia piece not only pays homage to Hong Kong’s vibrant culinary culture but also reinterprets it in a new context, offering the audience a unique and immersive experience through music, visuals, and storytelling.
Composer - Fish Yu
Director - Ryan Scott
Percussion - Chi-En Wong
Percussion - Yue Yin Zhang
Percussion - Nikki Huang
Percussion - Bevis Ng
Percussion - Hoi Tong Keung
Percussion - Thomas Li
Scene III: Return "Home" after Years
Returning to Hong Kong after years away, I step back into the space that once felt entirely my own. At first, everything seems unchanged. I look around and see the same objects I once lived with: the old vinyl resting quietly, photographs frozen in time, the table, the chair. They are exactly as I remember them, untouched, unmoved. But they feel different now. As if time has passed through me, but not through them.
Outside, the lights of the city glow as they always have—restless, vibrant, full of life. But even in their familiarity, I sense a distance. In that moment, I realize that “home” is no longer something I can simply return to. It is something I carry, something that continues to change, even as I try to hold onto it.
What is “home”? Is it a place, a sound, or a memory? Home《家》 is a personal reflection on homesickness and nostalgia, expressed through the voice of the Erhu and immersive live electronics.
The piece unfolds as a theatrical journey. The performer steps into their “old home,” placing a vinyl record on a turntable. The crackling sound of the record brings back two cherished songs from my past — 月光光 (Moonlight Light), a traditional Cantonese lullaby, and 月亮代表我的心 (The Moon Represents My Heart), a beloved Mandarin love song. These melodies, woven into my childhood, form the foundation of the electronic soundscape, fragmented and reshaped through pitch shifts and echoes of the past.
The Erhu, often associated with longing, sings with expressive slides and tremolos, its sound gradually transformed by electronics. As nostalgia turns into yearning, the warmth of home becomes a distant echo, dissolving into silence.
For those who have left their homeland, this piece reflects the experience of displacement. For others, it offers a glimpse into the universal longing for connection. Home is not just aplace—it is a sound we carry within us.
Audio - Dennis Patterson
Video - Blake Hannahson
Festival Eve (2025)
University of Toronto Wind Ensemble Composer-In-Residence
Commissioned by the University of Toronto Wind Ensemble
Double Concerto for Two Percussionists and Wind Ensemble
Festival Eve is built around the shared excitement that arises before a celebration even begins—the momentum growing in communities, the glow of imagination filling the night, and the surge of energy when anticipation finally becomes reality.
Across its three movements, the work traces this emotional landscape not through a literal story, but through shifting atmospheres that mirror how people experience the hours before a festival: restless, dreamy, and ultimately exuberant.
At the centre of the piece are two solo percussionists, whose instruments shape its expressive world. Their dialogue propels the music forward with both rhythmic drive and shimmering resonance. Surrounding them, the wind ensemble adds a vivid spectrum of colour. Together, the ensemble and soloists create a language of contrasts: pulses against stillness, brightness against shadow, fantasy against force.
These elements draw listeners into the shared anticipation that makes a festival meaningful long before it officially begins. Festival Eve celebrates that journey—its thrill, its wonder, and its collective spirit.
Composer - Fish Yu
Conductor - Pratik Gandhi
Solo Percussionists - KöNG Duo
University of Toronto Wind Ensemble
As the lights fade, I am left with a quiet clarity. Home is not a single place, nor a single moment; it is the sum of memories, connections, and experiences that travel with us. Through departure, discovery, and return, I have learned that what we carry within us. The echoes of streets, songs, friends, and familiar sights shape the way we belong. The journey continues, but for now, I can hold both my past and my present together and feel at home in the life I am building.