Long before bright lights, concert halls, and big-name conservatories, Hoi Khai Weing was a five-year-old girl locking herself in her mother’s piano studio, insistent on being taught. That fierce eagerness to not just play, but learn, is something that she still carries with her.

Today, she’s a classically trained violinist preparing to pursue her master’s degree at the Royal Danish Academy of Music, graduating from Singapore’s illustrious Yong Siew Toh Conservatory. Before heading to Europe, she’s taking time to attend music festivals, sharpen her technical skills, and expand her artistic horizons. 

But her journey hasn’t been defined by straight lines or instant certainty. From hesitating at the edge of a musical career to rediscovering her voice amid a struggle, Khai Weing’s story is one of obsession, doubt, and an ever-deepening commitment to an art form that still challenges and excites her every day.

A Childhood Surrounded by Music

Khai Weing’s early years were steeped heavily in the sounds of classical music. Her mother, a piano teacher, created a home filled with beautiful melodies and enthusiasm for learning, with students constantly coming in and out of the house. It didn’t take long before that atmosphere began to shape her daughter’s world.

At age five, Khai Weing demanded to be taught the piano. “I practically forced her to teach me,” she recalled. “I locked the door to her studio and said, you have to teach me.” That keen aptitude for learning led her to pick up the violin two years later at her mother’s suggestion, who had long hoped at least one of her children would learn an orchestral instrument.



The violin quickly became more than an experiment. By age nine, she was already sitting for her ABRSM Grade 3 exam. Her results were good enough to earn her an invitation to the High Scorers' Concert, which was one of the first moments she realised she might be genuinely good at this. 

At 12, her teacher nudged her into auditioning for the Malaysian Philharmonic Youth Orchestra (MPYO). Despite her initial reluctance, rooted in a hesitancy to mix with other people, the experience proved transformative. Surrounded by peers and guided by professional musicians from the Malaysian Philharmonic Orchestra, she found a sense of belonging and purpose beyond practice rooms.

It was in MPYO that Khai Weing first saw music not just as an individual pursuit, but as a shared journey. Living in hotels with fellow young musicians during week-long camps, rehearsing together, and preparing for performances gave her a glimpse of what a musical life could look like. “It was like a big sleepover doing something other than studying,” she said. “That was my illusion of what a musical life would be like. I loved it.”

Music or Medicine?

By the time Khai Weing finished secondary school, she was at a crossroads. She had been playing the violin for years, training seriously and performing in ensembles, but she wasn’t sure whether music could be more than a passion. So, she took a gap before pre-university, using the time to perform in an orchestra and reflect on her options.

Eventually, she enrolled in Taylor’s College for A Levels, taking the science stream — biology, chemistry, and mathematics — with cosmetic science in mind. Music, despite being deeply ingrained in her routine, still felt like a gamble. “It wasn’t really a hobby, it was too intense to be a hobby,” she said. “But I was scared of taking the plunge. The music world is competitive, and a lot of people say it’s not as lucrative.”

Yet, as the months passed, something shifted. Despite performing well academically, Khai Weing simply couldn’t picture a fulfilling career in the sciences; deep down, she always knew what her true calling was. After completing her A-levels, Khai Weing began exploring options for music school applications, and one institution stood out: the Yong Siew Toh Conservatory of Music (YST) under the National University of Singapore.

YST was competitive and renowned. Entry came with a full scholarship covering tuition, accommodation, and a stipend, but few got in. “It’s one of the hardest schools to get into in Southeast Asia,” she explained. “In our circle, it’s a big deal.” Khai Weing was encouraged by her teacher to audition. Despite her nerves, a complicated pandemic-induced filtering process, and a memory slip during the performance, she was accepted. It was a moment of exhilaration and validation.

“I just screamed and ran downstairs to my mum. She was teaching at the time, and I was like, ‘I got in, I got in!’” That acceptance didn’t erase her doubts, but it gave her the courage to believe that music could, in fact, be her future.

Finding Her Voice at YST

As significant an achievement as getting into YST was, it was only the beginning. Once Khai Weing began enrolment into her undergraduate studies, she quickly realised that professional training at the highest level came with a whole new world of challenges. 

The second and third years were especially testing. With the pressure of high-level performance, frequent rejections from competitions and festivals, and the constant comparison to peers, she often found herself questioning her abilities. “Before, music was something that made me feel special,” she reflects. “But in a place like YST, you start to realise that you’re surrounded by people just as, if not more, talented. It was humbling.”

An opportunity to embark on an exchange programme at the Royal Danish Academy of Music for a semester served as an important turning point. Immersed in a new culture and academic setting, Khai Weing gained a refreshed perspective on the subject matter to which she had dedicated herself for so long. “When I came back for my last semester, I looked at everything differently. I managed to grasp what I needed much more clearly.” She began to understand classical music not only as a performance, but as a window into history: a form of expression shaped by the times and societies that produced it. This broader lens deepened her respect for the art and grounded her more firmly in her purpose as a musician.

That clarity led to a final recital she looks back on with pride. “It was pretty good.” 

Looking back, Khai Weing acknowledges her time at YST as a profoundly transformative experience in terms of technical growth and deepening her understanding of her relationship with music. “Before university, we’re so used to teachers telling us what to do, but we don’t really understand why,” she infers. “Now, I’ve learned to ask questions, to be aware of how I sound, and to create the kind of music I want to create.” She also discovered a more grounded sense of confidence in learning to listen more deeply: not only to music, but to her own instincts. 

Looking Forward and Advice 

Later this year, Khai Weing will begin her master’s degree at the Royal Danish Academy of Music, returning to the institution that helped her rediscover her passion during her student exchange. In the long term, she hopes to combine performing with education, especially for younger musicians. “I had a lot of technique issues when I was younger, and it was a pain to relearn everything,” she said. “I don’t want others to go through that.”

For aspiring classical musicians, her advice is simple: don’t stay in your bubble. “Join youth orchestras. Audition for music festivals. Get exposure outside of where you are. You’ll grow so much more.”

And as for her own motivation, after nearly two decades of music, she hasn’t lost it. If anything, she feels like she’s just getting started. “There’s still so much beautiful music I haven’t touched yet,” she says. “Every time you revisit a piece, you’re seeing it through new eyes. That’s what makes it exciting.”