We were lucky to catch up with Yorkson Liu recently and have shared our conversation below.

Alright, Yorkson thanks for taking the time to share your stories and insights with us today. What’s been the most meaningful project you’ve worked on?

One of the most meaningful projects I’ve worked on was Neither Donkey Nor Horse, a Student Academy Award–winning short film set during the Manchurian plague of 1910. I served as supervising sound designer—a role that deeply shaped my artistic vision and professional path.

The film tells the real-life story of Cambridge‑trained Dr. Wu Lien‑teh, who returned to Manchuria just before the collapse of China’s last imperial dynasty to confront an outbreak of plague. He discovered—and fought to prove—that the bacterium Yersinia pestis was airborne, pioneering what became the early version of N95 masks to protect a resistant public and medical establishment.

This project was both technically demanding and profoundly emotional. The subject matter—scientists dissecting the plague’s mysteries amid societal fear—was inherently tense and morally charged. As sound designer, I had to shape not just the physical world of an early 20th-century lab, but the intangible suspense, fear, and hope that drove the characters.

The sonic approach combined two key elements: historical immersion and emotional abstraction. We researched the sounds of 1910 Manchuria—metal instruments, early respirators, basic lab gear—to ground the piece in its time.
Textured sounds—distant coughing, echoing footsteps, underscored heartbeats—to evoke the creeping dread of a disease nobody understood.

The constraints made us innovative. Working with limited resources and a tight schedule meant finding creative solutions—recording in echoing corridors, using everyday objects to mimic archaic equipment, and sculpting raw, unsettling atmospheres through sound editing and Foley.

When the film earned a Student Oscar, it felt deeply validating—not just for the visual storytelling, but for how the sonic world elevated the narrative, evoking empathy, tension, and immersion. It reaffirmed my belief that sound design is not merely supportive—it’s essential storytelling.

Yorkson, before we move on to more of these sorts of questions, can you take some time to bring our readers up to speed on you and what you do?

My name is Yorkson Liu, and I’m a sound designer and filmmaker with a deep passion for cinematic storytelling through sound. I got my master’s degree in film production from the University of Southern California’s School of Cinematic Arts, where I specialized in sound. My work elevates narrative through sound design’s emotional and psychological power.

I originally came into this field not through music or engineering, but through a fascination with the invisible layers of storytelling. I was drawn to how sound can shape emotion, alter perception, and quietly guide an audience’s experience without ever appearing on screen. Over time, that fascination turned into a craft, and then a calling.

I have worked on over 20 short films, one of which is Neither Donkey Nor Horse, a Student Academy Award–winning short film in which I served as supervising sound designer. The film is based on the true story of Dr. Wu Lien-teh, who led the fight against the Manchurian plague in 1910 and pioneered the early version of the N95 mask. The film’s exploration of science, cultural resistance, and public health resonated deeply, especially in today’s world. I worked closely with the director to design a soundscape that was both historically grounded and emotionally haunting, balancing realism with abstraction to reflect the anxiety and urgency of that moment in history.

That experience taught me something I now bring to every project: sound is not just technical. It’s poetic. It’s narrative. It can be as powerful as dialogue, as expressive as performance, and as visceral as the image itself. If you’re someone who values intentional, emotionally-driven, collaborative storytelling—whether you’re a director, producer, or fellow artist—I’d love to connect. My goal is always to serve the story and help create work that resonates long after the screen fades to black. https://liuyuxua.myportfolio.com/

In your view, what can society to do to best support artists, creatives and a thriving creative ecosystem?

In my view, one of the good ways society can support artists is by recognizing that art is not a luxury but it’s essential. Creativity shapes how we see the world, process emotions, understand history, and imagine the future. Supporting artists means investing not just in culture, but in empathy, innovation, and human connection.

Practically speaking, this starts with access. Artists need access to education, funding, equipment, mentorship, and platforms where their voices can be heard, regardless of background or economic status. Too often, opportunities in the creative industries are gatekept by geography or privilege. We need more programs, public arts funding, and international exchanges that encourage diverse voices and interdisciplinary collaboration.

We also need to shift how we value creative labor. Artists and creatives should be paid fairly for their work, and creative contributions—whether in film, music, design, or writing—should be treated with the same seriousness and respect as work in other professions. Creative jobs aren’t a niche pursuit or a hobby—they’re vital parts of our communities and industries.

Finally, I think we need to protect creative risk. Not everything needs to be commercially safe or algorithm-friendly. Some of the most meaningful art challenges us, disturbs us, or invites reflection. A healthy ecosystem leaves room for experimentation, failure, and long-term development, not just viral success.

As a sound designer and filmmaker, I’ve seen that many creative ideas go untapped due to a lack of support. But I’ve also seen that even small investments—like a grant, a mentor’s advice, or an artist residency—can be significant. Supporting the arts means supporting the individuals behind them. When we do that, society as a whole becomes richer, more compassionate, and more imaginative.

What’s the most rewarding aspect of being a creative in your experience?

For me, the most rewarding aspect of being a creative is the ability to shape how people feel—often without them realizing how or why. Especially as a sound designer, I work in an invisible layer of storytelling. When it’s done well, the audience doesn’t notice the sound consciously, but they feel it. That emotional resonance—that subtle connection—is incredibly powerful.

There’s also a deep satisfaction in collaboration. Film is a collective art form, and some of my most meaningful experiences have come from working closely with directors, editors, composers, and fellow sound artists to bring a shared vision to life. There’s something magical about building a world from nothing but ideas, and then seeing it move an audience.

On a more personal level, being an artist allows me to process and express things that can’t always be said with words. Ultimately, the most rewarding part is the impact. Whether it’s a viewer who’s emotionally moved, a collaborator who feels seen and supported, or a project that challenges and changes me, the reward is in the connection. It’s knowing that what I create can resonate beyond the screen, beyond language, and maybe even beyond time.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://liuyuxua.myportfolio.com/
• Instagram: yorkson_liu
• Linkedin: Yorkson Liu

Image Credits

Yorkson Liu
Brenton Bender