Keeping Time with Hins Cheung

As he celebrates 20 years in showbusiness, Hins Cheung talks about his affinity for the past, his own path to stardom and his desire to help other aspiring artists make the same journey.
Photography Isaac Lam
Styling Alex Loong
Hair Ritz La
Makeup Cyrus Lee
Photography Assistants Ivan, Jason, Kiano
Set Design Owen Lo
Lighting TK, Chung
Styling Assistants Anna Lam, Hedy Tsai
Set Assistant Lai Tsz Chung
In an age of instant gratification, where access to all the information you need, the people you love and the songs you play on repeat are just a few keyboard taps away, 20 years can seem like a lifetime. But for Hins Cheung, who celebrated the 20th anniversary of his prolific career just last year, the past two decades have gone by in the blink of an eye. Sure, he’s recorded 17 studio albums and performed for millions of fans in more than 10 concert runs, and his walls are lined with more accolades – including dozens of best male singer awards across Asia – than seem fathomable, but to the singer, producer, actor and all-round entertainer, whose heart (and physicality) seemingly remain forever young, he’s not ready to be defined by what he’s achieved thus far.
“I still treat myself as a newcomer in the industry, because I want my work to be fun and enjoyable,” Cheung confides after ruminating on his career. “Many artists who find success in the industry become blinded or jaded, but that’s not why we wanted to succeed in the first place. We wanted success because it gives you more choices. We want to be free, not caged by our success. So when I look back at all my achievements, I don’t let them weigh me down and limit who I can be.”
Of course, for someone as established as Cheung, it’s hard to imagine he’s still at the beginning of his journey. To start a career, especially in entertainment, with the network, support and deserved reputation that the Guangzhou native now has seems almost too generous a head start and, unsurprisingly, Cheung never had these luxuries himself 20 years ago.
Although music has flowed through his veins from as far back as he can remember – thanks to his musically-inclined father who continues to perform with his flute, hour upon hour and day after day, for his TikTok fans – Cheung initially hadn’t considered it a career option, especially as his mother, a stern businesswoman, made it clear that she’d prefer her son to pursue a more traditional profession. But as the itch intensified, he compromised by studying Chinese opera and dabbling in numerous classical instruments until he eventually enrolled in school to prepare for a future in accounting. His fate with numbers was short lived, however, when his mother discovered Cheung had been performing at restaurants and bars throughout his high-school years – for a mere $80 a night, he tells me – a secret he’d kept for years with the help of his father.
By the age of 19, he was leading his own department at a Guangzhou recording studio, learning the ropes of music production before his mother finally caved in. She gave him her blessing, along with $50,000 to kickstart his career, and in return he promised he’d go back to accounting if this final push for his dream of becoming a singer failed to take off. But take off it did. Within two years of his first, self-produced album Hin’s First, the golden opportunity to move to Hong Kong – then the Mecca of Cantopop – presented itself, and that, Cheung considers, was the defining moment of his career.
“It was October 15, 2002,” he reminisces. “I received a phone call from Universal Music Hong Kong saying they wanted to sign me, and I almost thought it was a prank or a scam. In many ways, I’m very similar to the younger generation in Hong Kong right now. Many people are afraid to dream big because they don’t want to be disappointed. Back then, I avoided failure by simply not trying. But I really want to thank my parents for this – especially my mother who was an orphan herself – they taught me I had nothing to lose. So when I got the call, that’s how I felt. I told myself I’d go to Hong Kong and see if I could succeed and, if not, I’ll just go back to Guangzhou. And all the milestones I’ve hit since then all trace back to that day.”
While he’s unwilling to be confined by those milestones, Cheung isn’t afraid of looking back. In fact, the past is something the singer-songwriter cherishes deeply, this sense of sentimentality awakening at a time when the momentum of his stardom appeared unstoppable. For years, he lived in the stunning heritage home, Old Alberose, and fans of his will be familiar with both his preservation of Hong Kong’s celebrated Avon Recording Studios, which first opened in 1983, and the resurrection of Junon, the French fine-dining restaurant established more than half a century ago.
“When I was younger, I never really identified as an old soul or felt this affinity to vintage things,” he says. “Now I try very hard to preserve these historical gems, because to me, everyone can be a writer of history. There are many who create legacies, but a city that develops as quickly as Hong Kong can easily bury these stories.”
His voracious desire to preserve Hong Kong’s heritage is understandably bolstered by the fact that Cheung knew very little about his own. “I feel that every living soul deserves to be remembered, especially by their family. I can only trace my roots back to my grandfather and grandmother. Beyond their generation, I know nothing, and so I want to preserve the history of other people and things. I believe history greatly influences who we are as a person and gives us personality. It shapes us. In a way, all these places made Hong Kong the place it is now. I hope to be a doorman for a time portal, who can unlock doors for those interested in learning about our history and our past.”
That Cheung’s reflections have influenced and sculpted his creative process over the years is self-evident, but only as much as his desire to constantly move forwards and cross unfamiliar landscapes, whether through collaborations with producers and songwriters, expanding the genres of his music, or taking on new roles in feature films. While he continues to write and produce many of his own songs, he’s also worked with exceptional talents in the city, household names such as Wyman Wong, Albert Leung and Anthony Lun, who all feature on his album credits.
“It’s all about curiosity. Curiosity is crucial,” Cheung says with unconcealed excitement. “Every time I finish writing a song, no matter how well it does on the charts, to me it’s a finished process and I move on. It’s in the past. My curiosity takes me to another project, and when you start to want to create more and change what you create, you naturally gravitate towards other creatives, especially ones even more courageous or daring than you. For me, my creative process is an adventure and I never stand still.”
But standing still is what the city did for the three years when Covid wreaked havoc on our daily lives. Naturally, that period left Cheung gasping for air. For someone who’s dedicated more than half of his life creating, performing and flourishing, to be frozen in time tormented him. “Covid caused a lot of very complex emotions within me that I’ve never experienced before in my life,” he admits, sombrely. “I was here in Hong Kong for Sars and some of my friends were actually on the frontlines at the time, so I thought everything would be OK. We’ve been through this before. But eventually, it became apparent that things weren’t OK.”
Managing to set his emotions aside, Cheung looked instead for solutions – and it didn’t take long. “I never imagined a city that ran 24/7, like Hong Kong, would lock down, and it wasn’t just here: Tokyo, London, New York – they all faced the same predicament. The world was changing and that left us with two options. Either we adapt and survive, or we remain stubborn, and society leaves us behind. I didn’t want to be the latter.”
Once again, and thanks to his upbringing, Cheung found the determination to keep Covid from holding him prisoner, looking internally for strength. “I thought to myself, when things are at their most chaotic, how can I thrive? I grew up without siblings, so all the pressures I had to face when I was growing up – whether it was from my parents or my studies or anything else – I had to face alone,” he recalls. “So it was just the same with Covid: I knew I had to dig deep inside myself and find a way to adapt.”
Between 2020 and 2023, he held three separate concert series, one of which ran for 26 consecutive nights, setting a record for any artist during the pandemic era and teaching him an invaluable lesson. “It taught me that when life gets difficult, don’t flip the table, or smash your phone. Look for solutions, think about your next steps, and adapt.
“When I was younger and things were difficult, I’d feel very emotional for extended periods of time,” he adds, “and of course I still do if they’re revolving around things very important to me, like my family and friends, but with work struggles I now immediately look at solutions. This is what Covid taught me.”
After 20 years in the industry, the lessons learned and the wisdom accumulated has placed Cheung at the forefront of the Cantopop scene. But what makes him one of this city’s most respected talents isn’t simply due to his stardom and success, but his willingness to share that wisdom with other singers and actors. He understands the transience of fame and popularity and, much like his desire to keep history alive, hopes to pass on his hard-earned knowledge so that Hong Kong’s music industry can continue to grow and thrive.
“Twenty years ago, we never imagined we’d have talents like Terence Lam, Tyson Yoshi or even Mirror. And regardless of what awards I’ve won, the crown on your head comes and goes,” he tells me with a modesty rarely seen in established pop stars. A few years ago, that humility led him to set up a fund – with $2 million from his own pocket – in support of up-and-coming artists, and now he’s taken another step forward by becoming the First Initiative Foundation’s art and culture ambassador.
Founded in 2010 by Michelle Ong, the FIF is the local charity focused on promoting the arts and culture in our city, through fundraisers, educational workshops and collaborations with internationally renowned performers. Its ambassadors and representatives include artists such as Eason Chan, Jackie Cheung, Carina Lau, Lang Lang and Niu Niu – and given Cheung’s own journey it’s no surprise why he decided to take on the role.
“With my position as arts and culture ambassador, I hope I can use my experience as an artist to help and support local groups or even those overseas,” he says. He tells me the stories of his father, who dreamed of becoming a musician but never had the means to do so, instead retreating to a desk job for the rest of his working life, and his own experience of being offered an album deal while still a teenager, only to have the person turn out to be a fraudster who absconded with his money after a week.
“There’s a certain barrier of entry into the arts, and our job is to help them get past that barrier,” Cheung says. “For me, Hong Kong is such an incredible place, because the talent can lie anywhere. Maybe it’s just a child who grew up in government housing, but he might develop into a superstar one day. So it’s not hard to find someone who has the drive and desire to become an artist, but not many of them will have the financial means of achieving their dreams. This is why we need the FIF.”
From singing at bars for less than $100 a day to superstardom, and being a newcomer himself to becoming a mentor for aspiring artists, the last 20 years for Cheung have been as transformative a journey as anyone could imagine. But for the 42-year-old, it’s enough that the past two decades have proved just one thing: that he was worthy of his dream.
“I now see that my perseverance and tenacity through all those years was worth it,”Cheung says. “And the next 20 years? Let’s start from zero.”
(Header image: Outfit, Bottega Veneta, Bag and pens, Montblanc, Rings, Messika, Chair, Vitra from Lane Crawford)