By the time Isaac Hong steps onto a stage, his music has already carries traces of many places — the warmth of a church choir in his childhood, the openness of Papua New Guinea’s skies and the intimacy of a Korean acoustic café.

His songs, often tender yet quietly profound, sound like someone trying to translate the language of the soul into melody.

“It really depends on the situation,” Hong tells DAILY TRIBUNE. “When an idea comes, I try to interpret it musically at first, but in the end, I think the lyrics decide the depth of the song.”

For him, songwriting isn’t a formula — it’s a dialogue between emotion and meaning, melody and truth.

Roots across worlds

Hong’s story began at the church, where he sang from the age of five, long before his name was known from shows like SuperBand and Sing Again 3. But his sense of artistry, he says, truly began when he lived in Papua New Guinea.

“That experience opened my eyes to different cultures and perspectives,” he reflects.

Returning to Korea after those formative years became a moment of self-definition for Hong — of learning how to reconcile the quiet openness of one world with the creative intensity of another.

Whether he’s composing an original soundtrack (OST) or releasing a personal song, Hong moves fluidly between structure and spontaneity.

“OST work has the fun of creating within the frame of a story,” he says. “But personal music allows more diversity in what I want to say.”

He describes this balance as a kind of creative freedom — sometimes liberating, yet often grounding.

His 2024 EP everland, a collaboration with pianist Jin Soo Young, embodies this spirit of exploration.

“Collaborations always give me new experiences,” Hong explains. “Looking into someone else’s worldview helped me discover new sides of myself — who I am, what music I want to make and what attitude I want to have.”

Mirror of a song

Among his growing catalog, Hong points to “a bird” as a kind of touchstone.

“When I sing this song, it’s a moment when I check where my heart is — and where music and God are located in my heart,” he says.

The song, for him, is not just a performance, but a mirror — a way to locate himself amid change.

That theme of self-awareness runs through much of his journey. His rise from SuperBand and Sing Again 3 brought visibility, but also vulnerability.

“There were moments when I didn’t know who I was,” he admits. “I wish I had focused more on myself and not lost my sense of who I am. Still, thanks to that period, I think I have a stronger sense of self now.”

Holding on to his center

Hong doesn’t shy away from the realities of a trend-driven industry.

“To be honest, I sway all the time,” he says with quiet candor. “Sometimes I love being stubborn, but that makes me feel small. But beyond all that, I have a desire to express the music and stories inside me. If I don’t let them out, I feel suffocated. Maybe that’s the way for me to stay centered.”

As Korean audiences increasingly embrace intimate, acoustic storytelling, Hong feels both grateful and grounded.

“If such music is growing, maybe it means we live in a time that needs those stories,” he muses. “The only way acoustic music survives is by not chasing trends and focusing on oneself.”

Crossing boundaries, finding belonging

Straddling indie, mainstream and OST circles, Hong recognizes that boundaries in music are shifting.

“The thresholds between them have become lower,” he notes. “How freely you cross that threshold looks like your spectrum. If I can hold onto my own story, then it shouldn’t matter what ground I stand on.”

That same openness extends beyond borders. Though he primarily writes in Korean, his English-speaking background often finds its way into his lyrics naturally.

“If there are good artists from the Philippines or anywhere else, I’m always open,” he added when asked if he’s open to collaborating with Filipino singers. “I prefer working with people who have sincere stories, regardless of nationality or genre.”

Long race

When asked about success, Hong pauses. “I’ve never thought my life right now is a ‘dream achieved’,” he says. “I think this life is a long race. Finishing it well in the end is probably the most successful thing.”

For him, the journey — not the accolades — defines meaning.

His compass remains simple yet unwavering: Tell his story truthfully, no matter where the music takes him.

“Pulling out my story honestly, and finding the standard of success not in external results but in my inner standard — that’s the only way I can keep my balance right now.”

As for legacy? Hong smiles softly. “I think I’m still searching for that,” he says. “Maybe when I look back someday, I’ll find out what I wanted to leave behind.”

What’s next

The magic of Korean drama once again filled the concert stage as the Korean Cultural Center in the Philippines, the Cultural Center of the Philippines and the National Commission for Culture and the Arts successfully staged OST Symphony II: K-Drama in Concert at the Samsung Hall, SM Aura in Taguig City. The two sold-out shows drew hundreds of K-drama fans, music lovers and cultural enthusiasts eager to relive their favorite on-screen moments through music.

Building on the overwhelming success of its debut in 2024, this year’s OST Symphony II delivered an even grander spectacle, featuring the Philippine Philharmonic Orchestra (PPO) under the baton of Maestro Herminigildo Ranera.

Fresh from their acclaimed UK tour, the PPO performed stirring renditions of beloved K-drama soundtracks — from the adrenaline-charged rhythms of KPop Demon Hunters to the tender strains of Crash Landing on You and the emotional depth of When Life Gives You Tangerines.

Adding to the night’s brilliance were dynamic performances from Korean artists Hong Isaac and YEGNY, joined by Filipino artists Kyline Alcantara and Angel Guardian.

This year’s concert also featured a special spotlight on Gyeongju, the host city of the upcoming 2025 APEC Economic Leaders’ Meeting in Korea.