koreana winter 2010 (english)

ISSN 1016-0744

K o r e a n a r t & C u l t u r e vol. 24, No. 4 Winter 2010

vol. 24, No. 4 W

inter 2010

Gyeongbokgung Palace

BEAUTY OF KOREA

Gyeyeongbae

he gyeyeongbae is no ordinary drinking vessel. Its name means “be warned against overfilling.” When filled with liquid to 70 percent or more of its capac-

ity, the fluid within the vessel suddenly vanishes, as if by magic. The secret of this effect is a central column attached to the vessel’s base that conceals a U-shaped tube. If the vessel is filled to less than 70 percent of its capacity, the level remains steady. But if you reach the 70 percent mark, the liquid then flows into the U-shaped tube, first upward and then downward, into a reserve area. It relies on a siphon principle, based on hydrostatic pressure.

The gyeyeongbae was conceived during the Joseon Dynasty period (1392-1910) by the Silhak philosopher and scientist Ha Baek-won. Thereafter, ceramic artist U Myeong- ok revived the technique and crafted his own gyeyeong bae vessels. According to the Jeonju Traditional Wine Museum, U Myeong-ok learned about ceramics at the Gwangju Pottery Works, located in Gyeonggi-do Prov-ince, which produced ceramic wares for the royal palace. Eventually, he came to create seolbaekjagi, a distinctive snow-white porcelain that was so highly acclaimed he gained widespread fame and became wealthy. But this only led to a life of debauchery. He later gave up his life of

drinking and womanizing, and returned to the Gwangju Pottery Works, where he crafted gyeyeongbae.

The gyeyeongbae’s background also involves another individual, Im Sang-ok, a merchant during the Joseon period. Im Sang-ok is remembered for accumulating sub-stantial wealth by practicing a frugal lifestyle, while always having a gyeyeongbae close at hand.

Today, Koreans do not use gyeyeongbae for drinking, but it serves as a symbol to prevent overindulgence and to promote restraint in everyday life. This is related to a cus-tom of the Joseon period, in which a father would have his son drink from a gyeyeongbae during his coming-of-age ceremony to instill the young man with the values of lead-ing a life of moderation.

This white porcelain gyeyeongbae adorned with apri-cot blossoms, which was crafted at the Gwangju Pottery Works in 2000, is a re-creation of the original work housed at the National Museum of Korea. The column with the U-shaped tube is beneath the apricot blossom decoration. Numerous varieties of gyeyeongbae, in white porcelain as well as celadon, have been crafted by modern-day cera-mists.

T

16 3442

46

70

Korean Art & Culture Vol.24, No.4 Winter 2010

Gyeongbokgung served as the primary royal palace of the Joseon Dynasty (1392-1910). Due to the palace’s extensive destruction over the years, a large-scale restoration project is now being undertaken to revive its former splendor.

© Seo Heun-kang


8 Gyeongbokgung: The Primary Joseon Palace Jang Jiyeon

16 Gyeongbokgung Palace Restoration: A 20-year First Phase

Lee Kwang-Pyo

24 Shin Eung-soo Stands at the Forefront of Gyeongbokgung’s Restoration

Jung Chung-sin

30 A Tour of Gyeongbokgung Palace Charles La Shure

82

6

36 FOCUS

Hahoe and Yangdong Villages Inscribed on World Heritage List Lee Sang-hae

42 InTERvIEw

Novelist Shin Kyung-sook’s Expression of Hope and Compassion Choi Jae-bong

46 ARTISAn Lee Keun-bok

Lee Keun-bok, Master Roof Tiler Accentuates the Elegant Roof Line

Park Hyun Sook

52 MASTERPIECES

Bronze Mirror Reflects the Height of Technology Cho Hyun-jong

56 ART REvIEw

‘Realism in Asian Art’ Explores the 20th Century History of Asia Kim Inhye

62 DISCOvERInG KOREA

After Overcoming Its Past, Korea Can Now Stand Tall Hosaka Yuji

66 On THE GLOBAL STAGE Park Ji-Sung

Soccer Star Park Ji-Sung Optimizes his Physical and Mental Ability Jeong Yoonsoo

70 On THE ROAD JEJUDO Leisurely Walking the Olle Trails of Jejudo Kim Hyungyoon

78 CUISInE

Tangpyeongchae: A Colorful and Symbolic Dish Lee Jong-Im

82 LIvInG

Screen Golf Takes Off in Korea Chung Jewon

85 JOURnEYS In KOREAn LITERATURE

Kwon Yeo-sun Kwon Yeo-sun’s Aesthetic Self-analysis of Pathological Behavior Kim Youngchan

Pink Ribbon Days Translated by Brother Anthony of Taizé

Published quarterly by The Korea Foundation2558 Nambusunhwanno, Seocho-gu, Seoul 137-863, Korea

PUBLISHER Byung-Kook Kim EDITORIAL DIRECTOR Kim Sung-yupEDITOR-IN-CHIEF Park Jeong-yeopEDITORIAL BOARD Cho Sung-taek,Han Kyung-koo, Han Myung-hee, Jung Joong-hun, Kim Hwa-young, Kim Moon-hwan, Kim YoungnaCOPY EDITOR Dean Jiro Aoki LAYOUT & DESIGN Kim’s Communication AssociatesASSOCIATE EDITOR Lim Sun-kunPHOTO DIRECTOR Kim Sam ART DIRECTOR Lee Duk-limDESIGNER Kim Su-hye

SUBSCRIPTION Price for annual subscription:Korea W—18,000, Asia by air US$33, elsewhere by air US$37 Price per issue in Korea W—4,500

Subscription/circulation correspondence:

THE U.S. AND CANADAKoryo Book Company 1368 Michelle Drive St. Paul, MN 55123-1459Tel: 1-651-454-1358 Fax: 1-651-454-3519

OTHER AREAS INCLUDING KOREAThe Korea Foundation2558 Nambusunhwanno, Seocho-gu, Seoul 137-863, KoreaTel: 82-2-2151-6544 Fax: 82-2-2151-6592

ADVERTISINGCNC Boom co,. LtdTowercrystal Building, 1008-1, Daechi 3-dong, Gangnam-gu, Seoul 135-851, KoreaTel: 82-2-512-8928 Fax: 82-2-512-8676

LAYOUT & DESIGNKim’s Communication Associates384-13 Seogyo-dong, Mapo-gu, Seoul,121-839, KoreaTel: 82-2-335-4741 Fax: 82-2-335-4743 www.gegd.co.kr

PRINTED IN WINTER 2010Samsung Moonwha Printing Co.274-34, Seongsu-dong 2-ga, Seongdong-gu, Seoul 133-831, KoreaTel: 82-2-468-0361/5

Koreana Internet Websitehttp://www.koreana.or.kr

© The Korea Foundation 2010All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form without the prior permission of the Korea Foundation.

The opinions expressed by the authors do not necessarily represent those of the editors of Koreana or the Korea Foundation.

Koreana, registered as a quarterly magazine with the Ministry of Culture, Sports and Tourism (Registration No. Ba-1033, dated Aug. 8, 1987), is also published in Chinese, French, Spanish, Arabic, Russian, Japanese, and German.

6 Koreana | Winter 2010


Winter 2010 | Koreana 7

Gyeongbokgung PalaceAfter 20 years of concerted efforts, the initial phase of the Gyeongbokgung Palace restoration project has been concluded with the reconstruction of Gwanghwamun main gate in its original location. To appreciate the palace’s historical and cultural significance, it is necessary to understand the background and numerous ordeals of Gyeongbokgung, which had served as the primary palace during the Joseon era and is regarded as the representative example of Korea’s palatial resources.

Gyeongbokgung: The Primary Joseon Palace

Although several Joseon-era palaces remain intact, Gyeongbokgung is especially noteworthy. As the primary palace of the Joseon Dynasty, it stood as the foremost symbol of Joseon royal authority,

while the name of each building reflects the founding spirit of the Joseon Dynasty.Jang Jiyeon Research Professor, Institute of Seoul Studies, University of Seoul

Suh Heun-gang Photographer


A palace is the king’s home. But the “palace” concept, as seen from the historical documents of the Joseon period,

is much broader, which also includes where the king resided, where he lived before he became king, where he stayed while traveling the country, and even the shrine built for royal an-cestors. There are five official Joseon palaces where the king resided and conducted formal business: Gyeongbokgung, Changdeokgung, Changgyeonggung, Gyeonghuigung, and Gyeongungung (or Deoksugung). But it was only for about a single decade that all five of these palaces existed at the same time.

Gyeongbokgung, Changdeokgung, and Changgyeonggung (an annex to Changdeokgung) served as the primary palaces

prior to the 1592 Japanese (Hideyoshi) invasion of Korea, while Changdeokgung, Changgyeonggung, and Gyeonghuigung became the main palaces thereafter. Gyeongungung (Deoksu-gung) was not really a Joseon palace, but an expansion built in preparation for the proclamation of the Korean Empire in 1897. Although several Joseon-era palaces remain intact, Gyeong bokgung is especially noteworthy. As the primary pal-ace of the Joseon Dynasty, it stood as the foremost symbol of Joseon royal authority, while the name of each building reflects the founding spirit of the Joseon Dynasty.

Joseon Dynasty FoundingIn the summer of 1392, the final curtain fell on Goryeo,

The Gwanghwamun Gate is the main entryway to Gyeongbokgung Palace. With three arches at the ground level and a two-story tower, it is the grandest and most impressive main gate of all the Joseon palaces.



after a 475-year history, with the founding of Joseon. The new dynasty was founded through an alliance between newly emerged literati, who adhered to Neo-Confucianism, and the military officer Yi Seong-gye. Among the decisions that needed to be made by the new leadership, Yi Seong-gye first sought to leave the Goryeo capital of Gaegyeong (today’s Gaeseong in North Korea) and find a new site for the capital. But countless individuals opposed the idea of relocating the capital. Even those who had played leading roles in founding the new nation did not approve of a new capital, so the controversy continued to linger for about two years. In the end, the site selected for the capital of Joseon was Hanyang, which had been built as Goryeo’s southern capital in the early 12th century.

After deciding to relocate the capital, Yi Seong-gye hastened to make the move, even before the requisite facilities could be built in Hanyang. The royal palace of Gyeongbokgung, the royal ancestral shrine of Jongmyo, and the national altar of

Sajik were completed in 1395, about one year after the capital’s move, while other facilities were built in subsequent years. Due to this hasty relocation and construction of facilities, the gen-eral appearance of Hanyang (or Hanseong, as it was renamed the following year) came to resemble the Goryeo capital of Gaegyeong. The Gyeongbokgung site was situated at almost the same location as Goryeo’s southern capital, in front of Mt. Baegaksan: Gyeongbokgung was simply built a little farther south.

Traditionally, when the Korean dynasties of Goryeo and Joseon selected a capital site, geographical features, such as the surrounding mountains, were of the utmost importance. They selected sites where the mountains formed axes of the capital area, such that the city wall was built to take advantage of the natural topography. Because of this, most Korean cities are not as symmetrical in layout as the cities of China or Japan (Kyoto), where the ancient fortress towns were built in a grid

1 The king’s throne within Geunjeongjeon, which is overseen by a traditional painting of the sun, moon, and five mountain peaks that symbolizes his royal authority.

2 The Geunjeongjeon throne hall, a grand two-story building that sits atop a two-level stone foundation, served as a venue to receive foreign emissaries and to hold formal events.

1


The legitimacy of royal authority was based on the morality and fairness of the king’s rule, not on the power he possessed. As such, the palace where the king resided had to convey a sense of dignity; however, an overly ostentatious palace would be undesirable since this might suggest the king’s suppression of his people. To attain an appropriate balance, the palaces of Joseon feature a more restrained appearance, as compared to those of other countries in the region, which reflects the distinctive spirit and character of Joseon.

pattern. Unlike China and Japan, where it was typical for pal-aces to be located in the center of the city or slightly northward, Joseon’s primary palace, Gyeongbokgung, was situated in the west of an irregular-shaped city, at the base of Mt. Baegaksan. This outcome was the product of pungsu (feng shui), a system of geomancy principles for identifying an auspicious site. How-ever, as compared to the other Joseon palaces, Gyeongbokgung was built on flat terrain that enabled an orderly building layout within the grounds.

Significance of GyeongbokgungThe Joseon Dynasty adopted the principles of Neo-Con-

fucianism, which believed in the overall good of humankind and its correspondence with ethical principles of nature. More importantly, Neo-Confucianism focused on spiritual matters, such as the morality of humanity, rather than worrying about external appearances. The legitimacy of royal authority was based on the morality and fairness of the king’s rule, not on the power he possessed. As such, the palace where the king resided had to convey a sense of dignity; however, an overly ostenta-

tious palace would be undesirable since this might suggest the king’s suppression of his people. To attain an appropriate bal-ance, the palaces of Joseon feature a more restrained appear-ance, as compared to those of other countries in the region, which symbolize the distinctive spirit and character of Joseon.

This is why the palaces of Joseon are simpler than those of other nations in the region, and herein lies the spirit and distinct character of Joseon. The architect and designer of Gyeongbokgung was Jeong Do-jeon, a Neo-Confucian scholar and court official, who also selected the names for the palace and each of its buildings, which expressed the ideals that the Joseon rulers should pursue. The three primary buildings of Gyeongbokgung include: Gangnyeongjeon, the king’s chamber; Sajeongjeon, the council hall; and Geunjeongjeon, the throne hall. As for the Gangnyeongjeon chamber, where the king slept, Jeong Do-jeon sought to create an atmosphere that allowed the king to maintain a straightforward and peaceful state of mind. “Gangnyeong” means “peace,” which is one of the five blessings. As such, Jeong Do-jeon hoped for the king to realize the five blessings through a straightforward mind that begets

1 The king used Sajeongjeon to conduct business and meet with court officials.

2 Changdeokgung was originally built as a supplemental palace to Gyeongbokgung, but it was restored earlier than Gyeongbokgung after the Japanese invasions of Korea in the late 16th century.

3 Gangnyeongjeon, the king’s chamber. An adjacent building includes figurines on the roof ridge, which were installed to ward off evil spirits.

1 2


virtuous behavior. In this regard, because the king spent most of his time alone in the sleeping chamber, where it was easy for him to become distracted, it was all the more critical to as-sure that this environment would be conducive to a state of peacefulness.

“Faithfulness” and a “straightforward mind” are two of the eight principles outlined in The Great Learning, along with “in-depth study and understanding of worldly matters,” “ethical cultivation,” “family harmony,” “proper governance of the na-tion,” and “promotion of peace.” If the king’s sleeping chamber helped him to attain faithfulness and a straightforward mind, the king applied his knowledge at the Sajeongjeon council hall, where he met with court officials and attended special lectures. Jeong Do-jeon came up with the name Sajeongjeon to encour-age the king to think deeply about difficult matters and to make decisions based on sound reasoning. After all, “thought” is the essence of political governance and education.

If the king cultivates faithfulness and a straightforward mind at Gangnyeongjeon and applies his knowledge at Sa-jeongjeon, then he would be able to rule in a forthright man-

ner. Based on a proper morality, the king is able to rule the nation effectively and to promote peace at the Geunjeongjeon throne hall. The name means to “rule diligently,” but it was not an admonition for the king to pursue diligence without a sense of direction. In this case, Jeong Do-jeon believed that such dili-gence called for the king to appoint virtuous and capable offi-cials, who would be entrusted with administrative responsibili-ties, so that he did not have to worry about insignificant details.

Ordeals of GyeongbokgungUltimately, Jeong Do-jeon selected the name Gyeongbok-

gung to express a plea for the king to be an honorable ruler and for the dynasty’s royal succession to continue unbroken. As it turned out, not long after Gyeongbokgung’s completion, its prestige would be undermined. After two uprisings over the matter of royal succession, the capital was moved back to Gaegyeong and then later returned to Hanseong. Amid this turmoil, a new Changdeokgung Palace was built to the east of Gyeongbokgung. Although Gyeongbokgung remained the of-ficial royal palace of Joseon, it was left unoccupied throughout

3


the reign of King Taejong (r. 1400-1418), which eroded its pre-vious stature.

During the reign of King Sejong (r. 1418-1450), a serious debate arose over the interpretation of pungsu principles. In particular, there were those who claimed that instead of Mt. Baegaksan, the primary mountain of Hanseong should be the mountain near Changdeokgung. This was not a controversy only about the capital’s layout, since the adoption of another primary mountain would alter the meridians that were used in the original pungsu-related calculations. Moreover, this would raise questions about whether Gyeongbokgung was situated on an auspicious site. Although the government suppressed debate on this matter during the rule of King Sejong, the controversy reemerged after the Japanese invasion in 1592.

The Japanese (Hideyoshi) invasion, which broke out 200 years after the nation’s founding, was an unprecedented war of epic scale and destruction. Not only Gyeongbokgung, but all the palaces of Hanseong were burned to the ground. What could have been the reason for this extensive destruction of the country? Around this time, people wondered about the pungsu controversy over Mt. Baegaksan being the capital’s primary

mountain, and whether this meant that the Gyeongbokgung site was actually not auspicious. So, could this “miscalculation” have somehow contributed to the war’s heavy toll? After repel-ling the Japanese invaders, efforts were undertaken to restore the palaces of Hanseong during the reign of Gwanghaegun (r. 1608-1623). However, Gyeongbokgung was left in ruins and not rebuilt, supposedly due to the questions about the site’s auspicious nature. It is believed that Gwanghaegun had in-tended to restore Gyeongbokgung, but the actual work never got underway.

Enduring Symbol of JoseonAfter being reduced to ashes during the Japanese invasion,

Gyeongbokgung remained in rubble for over 200 years until a reconstruction project began in 1860. In spite of this neglect, various ceremonies were held on the Gyeongbokgung grounds during the 18th century by the Joseon kings to pay tribute to the dynasty’s founders, which served to revive Gyeongbok-gung’s standing as a prominent symbol of the royal authority of Joseon and its founders.

When King Gojong assumed the throne, his father, the

Within the Gwanghwamun grounds, you must pass through the Heungnyemun and Geunjeongmun gates to reach the Geunjeongjeon throne hall. The palace’s restrained appearance reflects the principles of the Joseon Dynasty, which revered propriety while shunning extravagance.

1


Prince Regent Heungseon Daewongun, initiated a grand plan to restore the dignity and authority of the royal throne, which had been eroded during the 19th century. As such, Gyeongbok-gung was restored during Gojong’s reign (r. 1863-1907). The original layout was retained in general, but the new palace was larger and included more buildings. Prior to Gojong’s declara-tion in 1870 under which he was designated the ruler of the nation (to supersede his father’s interim control during his younger years), the prince regent had built the Geoncheong-gung complex in the rear of the palace. But in 1895, while Go-jong and his queen were residing at Geoncheonggung, Japanese agents assassinated the queen. Then, in a flurry of events that changed the course of Korea’s political direction, Gojong took refuge at the Russian legation and proclaimed the founding of the Korean Empire, thereby ending Gyeongbokgung’s role as the royal Joseon palace.

After Korea became a colony of Japan, the Japanese author-ities wrought serious damage to Gyeongbokgung in an effort to demonstrate their imperial power. A crowning blow came in 1920, when the office of the Japanese Government General was built directly in front of the Gyeongbokgung throne hall. In do-

ing so, the Gyeongbokgung palace, which had long symbolized the royal authority of Joseon, was overshadowed. Yet, from a historical perspective, Gyeongbokgung has never been a par-ticularly beloved palace. Although it might have been similar to the type of palaces seen in China or Japan, as compared to the other palaces of Joseon and Goryeo, its orderly layout is quite unique. Accordingly, it seems that Koreans have never fully embraced Gyeongbokgung, while even today’s visitors are said to prefer the Changdeokgung palace. Perhaps the Gyeongbok-gung site is not especially auspicious after all.

Still, Gyeongbokgung does embody the spirit of the Joseon founders and for some 500 years has stood as an enduring symbol of the Joseon Dynasty. Since Korea’s liberation in 1945, there had been calls for the removal of the Government Gen-eral’s building, which served as a painful reminder of Japan’s colonial rule. But upon the demolition of this building in the early 1990s, which enabled the Gyeongbokgung restoration project to get underway, even this was not free of its own con-troversy. In any case, no one can dispute the value of restoring Gyeongbokgung to its former glory and magnificence.

A night view of the Gyeonghoeru Pavilion, situated within a man-made pond and alongside a landscaped island, which was used by the king to entertain foreign guests and to host court banquets.

2


With 2010 marking the centennial of Japan’s annexa-tion of Korea, this year’s Liberation Day (August 15)

was especially meaningful. It was made even more significant with the unveiling of the newly restored Gwanghwamun, the main gate of Gyeongbokgung, which has been reconstructed at its original location. The restoration of Gwanghwamun is undoubtedly the highlight of the first phase of the Gyeongbok-gung restoration project, which began in 1990. This 20-year journey is part of a long-term process to restore Gyeongbok-gung, the primary palace of the Joseon Dynasty (1392-1910), to the splendor of its former appearance.

Originally built in 1395, Gyeongbokgung served as the first and primary palace of the Joseon Dynasty. The main gate faced the Yukjogeori Avenue (today’s Sejong-daero), while to the rear of the palace stood Mt. Bugaksan and Mt. Inwangsan (off to the side), making it an ideal site in terms of pungsu (feng shui) principles as well as its picturesque natural scenery. The entire palace was burned to the ground during the 1592 Japanese in-vasion of Korea, and remained in ruins until the Prince Regent Heungseon Daewongun launched a large-scale reconstruc-tion project in 1865, which was completed in 1867. Numerous buildings and features of the palace were demolished or defaced during the Japanese colonial period (1910-1945). Upon Korea’s liberation from Japan’s colonial rule, the Korean people natu-rally sought to restore the palace to its former glory; however, this was no simple task, as the immense scale of this undertak-ing required substantial amounts of financial resources, skilled manpower, and materials, along with much effort and time.

Government General BuildingThe efforts to revive Gyeongbokgung got underway around

the 1990s. At this time, a “Set History Right” movement took

Gyeongbokgung Palace Restoration: A 20-year First Phase

The first phase of the Gyeongbokgung Palace restoration project has focused on Gwanghwamun. The newly restored gate is stately and elegant, with a gently curved eaves line that brings to mind a

graceful bird in flight. The three high-arched gateways within the stonework are attractive as well. With views of Heungnyemun and Mt. Bugaksan visible through the arched gateways, Gyeong-bokgung can again show off its true face.

Lee Kwang-Pyo Culture Reporter, The Dong-A Ilbo | Suh Heun-gang Photographer


hold in Korea as an effort to enhance the people’s understand-ing about the Japanese colonial period and to bolster Korea’s national pride. The plans to restore Gyeongbokgung were thus an integral aspect of these efforts. In particular, the restora-tion project sought to return Gyeongbokgung to its previous magnificence and to promote appreciation of the true richness of Korea’s cultural heritage. The project to restore Gyeongbok-gung, which had been extensively deformed by the Japanese authorities, was unquestionably the most visible and symbolic initiative undertaken to rectify Korea’s history.

However, the restoration of Gyeongbokgung did not pro-ceed all that smoothly. From the outset, there was the matter regarding the disposal of the former Japanese Government General’s building, which the colonial authorities had built within the palace grounds in 1926, after tearing down the Heungnyemun middle gate. Then, after complaining that the Gwanghwamun main gate obstructed the building’s view, it

was relocated to the current site of the National Folk Museum. After the colonial period, the Republic of Korea used the for-mer Government General building for its administrative office, from 1948 through 1984, and then used it to house the Nation-al Museum of Korea.

As for the key issue of what to do with the Government General building, opinions were split over whether it should be demolished or retained. While one side argued, “As a vestige of Japanese colonialism, it must be demolished,” the other side contended, “Despite our painful history of defeat and disgrace, it is an important part of our history, so we should relocate and preserve the building.” This controversy raged on until the government announced its decision to have the building dismantled. On August 15, 1995, to mark the 50th anniversary of Korea’s liberation from Japan, the government removed the spire that stood atop the building’s central dome, as a symbolic gesture to close this dark chapter of Korea’s past. By December

Geunjeongmun, the southern gate of Gyeongbokgung, is flanked by lengthy corridors.


1

2


1996, the Government General building had been fully demol-ished and forever lost to history.

Palace BuildingsThe ultimate goal of the Gyeongbokgung restoration proj-

ect is to replicate the palace’s overall appearance at the time of its reconstruction in 1867. The massive scale of this project is evident from the fact that when the Gyeongbokgung recon-struction project was completed in 1867, the palace grounds included over 500 buildings; but, when the restoration project began in 1990, a mere 36 buildings were still standing on the site. The restoration work is being implemented in phases re-lated to five major areas: the royal chambers, Donggung (East-ern Palace), Heungnyemun, Taewonjeon, and Gwanghwamun. For the period 1990 to 2010, the restoration work involved project costs of some 178.9 billion won (about $155 million).

The restoration of the royal chambers area, which includes the sleeping quarters for the king and queen, began in 1990 and was completed in 1995. The king’s chamber, Gangnyeongjeon, and the queen’s chamber, Gyotaejeon, are the most significant buildings of this area. After being rebuilt in 1867, the build-ings were soon destroyed, after being engulfed by a large fire in 1876. The royal chambers were again reconstructed in 1888. Thereafter, when a 1917 fire destroyed portions of Changdeok-gung, Gangnyeongjeon, Gyotaejeon, and various other build-ings in Gyeongbokgung were dismantled so that the materials could be used to restore the royal chambers of Changdeok-

gung. Twelve buildings that had been destroyed during the Japanese colonial period, including Gangnyeongjeon and Gyo-taejeon, were rebuilt and opened for public viewing in 1995.

The restoration of Donggung, where the crown prince and the crown princess resided, was undertaken from 1994 to 1999, involving the restoration of 18 buildings, including Jaseondang and Bihyeongak. During the Joseon period, the crown prince would study and undergo training here in preparation for be-coming the king. Jaseondang, the crown prince’s residence, met its end in 1914 when the Japanese colonial authorities razed a number of palace buildings in order to present an “Exposition of Korean Products” at Gyeongbokgung.

The Japanese entrepreneur Okura Kihachiro collected the dismantled materials of Jaseondang and had them taken to Tokyo in 1915, where they were used to build a museum, named Chosen-kan. But the museum building was destroyed during the Great Kanto earthquake of 1923, leaving only the foundation stones. After this, Jaseondang remained little more than a vague memory. Then, in 1993, Professor Kim Chung-dong, a scholar of architectural history at Mokwon University, learned that the foundation stones had been lying forgotten on the grounds of the Hotel Okura in Tokyo. Thanks to Profes-sor Kim’s efforts, the foundation stones of Jaseondang were returned to Korea in 1996. Although it was not possible to use the stones for the restoration of Jaseondang because of their damage, they have been maintained within the Gyeongbok-gung premises.

1 Amisan, in the rear of Gyeotaejeon, is a vital green space in the central area of the palace complex. The garden area was created for the queen, who was generally confined to the palace grounds. The hexagonal chimneys are decorated with auspicious characters and symbols.

2 Yeongjegyo bridge connects Heungnyemun with Geunjeongmun. It was hoped that the waters of Geumcheon Stream, which flowed under the bridge, would cleanse the hearts of the king and his royal advisors.

3 The foundation of Jaseondang, the residence of the crown prince and crown princess, has been restored.

The first phase of the restoration work for Gyeongbokgung required over 14,580 cubic meters of lumber and about 1.5 million roof tiles. In addition, an army of carpenters and artisans with experience in traditional construction techniques was mobilized. The res-toration of Gyeongbokgung was truly a collaborative effort that involved all of the traditional construction trades and related crafts.

3


The restoration of Heungnyemun got underway in 1996 and was completed in 2001. Located between the Gwanghwa-mun front gate and the Geunjeongmun inner gate, the Heung-nyemun gate marks the entry into the central palace grounds. Heungnyemun and the surrounding buildings were either torn down or relocated in 1915 to make space for the Exposition of Korean Products. In 1916, the gate and adjacent corridors were demolished in order to clear the area for construction of the Japanese Government General building. In 2001, Heung-nyemun was finally restored to its original form, along with the adjacent corridors that lead to a nearby stream, a bridge across the stream, and the flagstone pathways, thus reviving the splen-dor of the Gyeongbokgung grounds.

In the process of restoring Gyeongbokgung, renovation work was undertaken on the Geunjeongjeon throne hall (Na-tional Treasure No. 223), which represented the heart of the palace complex. This was the venue for holding important national events, such as royal coronations, assemblies of civil and military officials, and receptions for foreign emissaries. For a long while, the building was the tallest two-story wooden structure in Korea. In December 2000, in the process of dis-

mantling and rebuilding Geunjeongjeon, the Office of Cultural Properties (now the Cultural Heritage Administration) dis-covered serious damage to a section of the building where the southeastern pillar supported the first-floor angle rafter. This rafter, which should be properly supported by the pillar, was barely attached by an area of only 3-4 centimeters. Fortunately, the discovery and detailed analysis of the damaged section and remedial measures enabled the restoration work to proceed without incident.

Restoration of the Taewonjeon area was carried out from 1997 through 2005, which involved the reconstruction of 25 buildings, including Taewonjeon, where the royal portrait of King Taejo had been enshrined and ancestral rituals per-formed. Located in the northwestern corner of the palace, the Taewonjeon complex later housed the troops who were as-signed to protect Cheong Wa Dae, the presidential office and residence during the era of Korea’s military regimes. The troops were relocated from the complex when the palace restoration project got underway.

Directly east of the Taewonjeon complex is Geoncheong-gung, which was restored during the period of 2004-2007.

1


Geoncheonggung was a symbol of modernization in 1887, becoming the first buildings in Korea to have electric light-ing installed. It was also the site of a national tragedy, where Empress Myeongseong was assassinated by Japanese agents on October 8, 1895. A palace within a palace, Geoncheong-gung was completed by Emperor Gojong in 1873. To validate his political independence from his father (the Prince Regent Heungseon Daewongun), Gojong had these buildings situated at a far northern corner of Gyeongbokgung. Due to Empress Myeongseong’s assassination, Gojong feared for his own life, so he departed from Geoncheonggung in 1896 and took refuge at the Russian legation. Thereafter, Geoncheonggung remained unoccupied until it was demolished by the Japanese colonial authorities in 1909. Later, in 1940, the Japanese authorities built an art museum on the site. After Korea’s liberation, the building became the home of the Korean Traditional Crafts Museum, until it was torn down in 1998.

When the restoration of Geoncheonggung was completed in 2007, some 20 buildings had been rebuilt, including Em-peror Gojong’s chamber, Jangandang; Empress Myeongseong’s chamber, Gonnyeonghap; and the Boksudang annex. The

restored buildings of Geoncheonggung are characterized by a lack of colorfully painted surfaces, in accordance with their original appearance and the general style of literati homes at that time. Shin Eung-soo, a foremost master of traditional carpentry, who was responsible for overseeing the restora-tion work, noted: “All of the palace buildings are splendid, but Geoncheonggung is not painted, giving it a clean and simple finish.” He added: “I emphasized efforts to highlight the natural wood grain during the restoration work.”

First Phase of RestorationThe key project of the first phase of the Gyeongbokgung

restoration involved the reconstruction of Gwanghwamun and surrounding areas, which was carried out from 2001 to 2010. As the main gate of Gyeongbokgung, it was inevitable for the Gwanghwamun work to receive special attention. Gwang-hwamun had been rebuilt previously in 1865. But the Japanese colonial period meant misfortune for the gate, when it was relocated to improve the view from the Government General building. Later, during the Korean War, the wooden super-structure above the stonework was completely destroyed. The

1 Geoncheonggung, an inner palace, was built and occupied by Emperor Gojong just before the demise of the Joseon Dynasty. Unlike most palace buildings, its exterior surface was not painted.

2 The interior of Gyotaejeon, the queen’s chamber

2


gate was restored in 1968, but it stood 14.5 meters behind its original location, and was oriented 3.5 degrees counter-clock-wise of the palace’s central axis. Moreover, the superstructure above the stonework was built with concrete rather than wood. As such, it was a less than authentic restoration effort.

It was clearly a mistake to build the two-story superstruc-ture with concrete instead of wood, although the orientation of the gate was unavoidable due to physical constraints. When the Japanese colonial authorities tore down Heungnyemun to construct the Government General building, they deliberately positioned the building to be 3.5 degrees off from the central axis. Gyeongbokgung originally faced Mt. Gwanaksan, but the Japanese shifted the alignment 3.5 degrees so that it faced to-ward the Japanese Shinto shrine they had built on Mt. Namsan. Thus, it was not possible to return Gwanghwamun to its origi-nal orientation because it would then not be aligned with the former Government General building.

In 2001, the efforts began to restore Gwanghwamun with a wooden superstructure and at its original location and align-ment. Related to this process, a heated controversy arose over the gate’s signboard. Some called for replacement of the exist-ing signboard, which had been written in Hangeul (the Korean alphabet) by President Park Chung Hee in 1968. But others complained that “political efforts to erase all traces of President Park Chung Hee are behind the push to replace his signboard.” Amid this debate, the Office of Cultural Properties, based on the recommendation of relevant experts, decided to prepare a new signboard, written in Chinese characters, which would be consistent with the previous signboard from the 1865 recon-struction.

This decision then sparked a dispute over who would create the calligraphy for the new signboard. For this, numerous sug-gestions were gathered and evaluated. Meanwhile, a negative plate was discovered that contained an image of the 1865 sign-board. It was subsequently determined that the calligraphy had

been created by Im Tae-yeong, a supervisor of the reconstruc-tion project and military officer. The negative plate was digital-ly restored and the image was used to reproduce the characters with Im’s cursive style. Exquisite and free flowing, the cursive calligraphy style is ideally suited for a palace signboard. The carving of the characters onto the wooden signboard was un-dertaken by Oh Ok-jin, an artisan who specializes in the carv-ing of calligraphy.

The Gwanghwamun restoration efforts included the gate itself, as well as the surrounding buildings and related features, including the king’s pathway that led to Heungnyemun and sections of the stone platform in front of Gwanghwamun, which add to the gate’s sense of grandeur. But the restoration of this area will not be complete until the southeastern walls of the palace are connected to what was originally the southeast-ern guard tower, Dongsipjagak, in November 2010.

The first phase of the restoration work for Gyeongbokgung required over 14,580 cubic meters of lumber and about 1.5 million roof tiles. In addition, an army of carpenters and arti-sans with experience in traditional construction techniques was mobilized. The finest artisans had been recruited to contribute their expertise to the restoration work, including Shin Eung-soo, a master carpenter of traditional Korean architecture and a highly regarded supervisor of restoration projects; Bak Mun-yeol, a specialist in brass works; and Oh Ok-jin, the renowned carver of calligraphic characters, along with the prominent stonemason Im Dong-jo, building painter Yang Yongho, roof-tile maker Kim Ji-seung, and finishing carpenter Kim Sun-gi. Most of them are “Intangible Cultural Property” title holders. The restoration of Gyeongbokgung was truly a collaborative ef-fort that involved all of the traditional construction trades and related crafts.

The first phase of the restoration project, which included the reconstruction of 89 buildings, has not yet returned Gyeong-bokgung to its original form. Today, a total of 125 buildings

1 Donggung, located within the inner palace, was the residence for the crown prince and crown princess.

2 Along with the restoration of Gwanghwa-mun Gate, a more authentic changing-of-the-guard ceremony is now being staged, based on extensive research of the former proceedings and attire.

1


now stand within the Gyeongbokgung grounds; however, this is only about 25 percent of the 500 or so palace buildings that had been rebuilt in 1867. This is a stark reminder of just how wantonly the Japanese colonial authorities destroyed so many of the Gyeongbokgung buildings. The Cultural Heritage Administration now plans to commence the project’s second phase, which will be undertaken from 2011 through 2030.

During the second phase, an additional 253 buildings will be restored, bringing the total number of buildings to 378, or about 76 percent of the palace’s rebuilt scale in 1867. Bak Yeong-geun, head of the Heritage Promotion Bureau of the Cultural Heritage Administration, remarked: “If the first phase of the restoration work can be compared to building the skel-eton of Gyeongbokgung, the second phase will add flesh to this framework.”

The first phase of the Gyeongbokgung Palace restoration project has focused on Gwanghwamun. The newly restored gate is stately and elegant, with a gently curved eaves line that brings to mind a graceful bird in flight. The three high-arched gateways within the stonework are attractive as well. With views of Heungnyemun and Mt. Bugaksan visible through the arched gateways, Gyeongbokgung can again show off its true face.

Gyeongbokgung is the essence of Korea’s traditional ar-chitecture and the pride of Korean culture. As such, the palace restoration is not simply a matter of restoring Gyeongbokgung to its original form. It is a means to revive 600 years of Korean history and tradition, as well as the national and cultural pride that the Japanese colonialists had sought to undermine.

2


On August 15, 2010, to observe the 65th anniversary of Korea’s liberation from Japan’s colonial rule, government

and cultural figures, including President Lee Myung-bak and Seoul Mayor Oh Se-hoon, attended a ceremony to hang the new signboard on Gwanghwamun, the main gate of Gyeongbok-gung. This marked a historical moment, as the gate that serves as the face of downtown Seoul had been restored as a wooden structure, similar to its form in 1865 when the palace was rebuilt by the Prince Regent Heungseon Daewongun (Lee Ha-eung), the father of Emperor Gojong. This ceremony was the highlight of various events to celebrate the completion of the first phase of the restoration of Gyeongbokgung, which involved nineteen years and two months of efforts, following a project launch event held on July 10, 1991, in front of the Geun jeongjeon throne hall, the largest wooden building in Korea.

Finding the Ideal PineWith the completion of the first phase of Gyeongbokgung’s

restoration, Shin Eung-soo (age 68), who supervised every aspect of the reconstruction work, climbed up the gate’s guard tower before the signboard ceremony. Through the guard tower window he looked out at the palace buildings into which he had poured his heart and soul, including Heungnyemun and Geunjeongjeon, with Mt. Bugaksan standing in the back-ground. He had spent nearly two decades searching for the perfect Korean pine (yuksong) to use for the crossbeam. For this, he had trekked about the peaks of the Taebaek Mountain Range, while practically living in the mountains. But his strug-gle was not just about finding the ideal wood. His demanding perfectionism and commitment to building a palace that could

stand for 1,000 years were a source of constant friction with others working on the project.

The BBC assigned a production team to document the entire process of the Gwanghwamun restoration work, which included following master carpenter Shin Eung-soo to the mountain forests of Yangyang and Taebaek, of Gangwon-do Province, where he selected the pines trees for the building materials. The carpenters and work crew were impressed by the hardiness of the BBC cameramen, who managed to scale the rugged terrain that posed a challenge for even the fittest wood-cutters. It is said that the laudable efforts put forth by the BBC members, in filming the Gwanghwamun restoration project, was related to the deep interest of Prince Charles for docu-menting the traditional cultural heritages from all over the world. In addition, the enthusiasm of NHK and other Japanese broadcasters in covering the restoration project was compa-rable to that of the BBC, which included coverage of the launch ceremony in 1991 to mark the Gyeongbokgung project’s commencement.

The efforts to restore Korea’s cultural heritage and historic sites got underway in earnest in the 1970s. As for the activi-ties undertaken for the restoration and maintenance of royal palaces and city walls, along with the reconstruction of ancient temples and traditional houses, master carpenter Shin has come to play a pivotal role in the revival of traditional Korean architecture during the past 40 years of his illustrious career.

Shin Eung-soo Stands at the Forefront of Gyeongbokgung’s Restoration

For master carpenter Shin Eung-soo, who had been assigned the task of overseeing the first phase of the Gyeongbokgung restoration project that has required nearly two decades of concerted efforts,

he can take considerable pride in its successful completion. Shin refers to the restoration of Gyeongbokgung Palace as a “reconstruction of Korea’s history.”

Jung Chung-sin Culture Desk, The Munhwa Daily Yi Il- sup, Ahn Hong-beom Photographer

Master Carpenter Shin Eung-soo has dedicated some 35 years of his professional career to the restoration of Korea’s palaces and traditional buildings.


Reconstructing HistoryShin Eung-soo, who was designated Intangible Cultural

Property No. 74 in 1991 for his outstanding expertise in the field of major carpentry, has thus been recognized as Korea’s foremost master carpenter of traditional architecture. His dedication to traditional culture, as well as his insistence on using native Korean pine and his perfectionist attitude, have all been acquired from his palace carpenter teachers. Shin is a self-made individual who has succeeded through his personal commitment and artisan spirit. Born in Cheongwon-gun, Chungcheongbuk-do Province, he could not afford to attend university and thus moved to Seoul at the age of 17, when he began to work as a carpenter helper under his older cousin, a carpenter who built traditional Korean houses.

The course of Shin’s life was changed while working at Bongwonsa, the head temple of the Taego Order of Korean Buddhism, in Sinchon, Seoul, where he came under the tute-lage of Lee Gwang-gyu, who had inherited the traditions of Korea’s palace carpentry. His training under the perfectionist Lee was rigorous but rewarding. Pupil and teacher worked together to build Hoamjang, the personal residence of the late Samsung Group founder Lee Byung-chul, in Yongin, Gyeo-nggi-do Province. Then, meeting Lee’s teacher, Cho Won-jae, while doing renovation work on National Treasure No. 1, the

Sungnyemun (Namdaemun) gate, proved to be another turn-ing point in Shin’s career. Shin’s subsequent restoration projects included the prime minister’s residence in Samcheong-dong, Seoul; Korea House in Pil-dong; Anapji Pond in Gyeongju; Josajeon Hall of Guinsa, the main temple of the Cheontae Order of Korean Buddhism, in Danyang, Chungcheongbuk-do Province; and Geungnakjeon Hall of Muryangsa Temple, in Buyeo, Chungcheongnam-do Province.

A number of traditional Korean buildings have been reno-vated by Shin, including Lee Byung-chul’s former Seungjiwon residence in Itaewon, Yongsan-gu, Seoul and the Sangchundae reception hall for hosting foreign guests at Cheong Wa Dae. Moreover, prominent traditional structures, such as Chang-gyeonggung and Changdeokgung, have also been restored by his hands. Additional projects of Shin include Hangnokjeong-sa, Simwonjeongsa, and Damyeonjae (that had been visited by England’s Queen ElizabethⅡ) of Hahoe Folk Village, in An-dong, Gyeongsangbuk-do Province, which has been designated a UNESCO World Cultural Heritage site.

“I faced the greatest challenge of my 53 years as a carpen-ter during the nearly 20 years I spent on the restoration of Gyeong bokgung,” Shin notes. “Thanks to the fierce passion for our palaces and traditional architecture that had been instilled in me by my two teachers, I was able to triumph over whatever

1 Shin Eung-soo has effectively lived in various Joseon palaces for the past 35 years, which makes him a foremost expert in palace construction and architecture.

2 During the reconstruction work, Gwanghwamun Gate was covered by a temporary structure and façade.

Thanks to the international popularity of the Dae Jang Geum (Jewel in the Palace) TV drama, ever more visitors to Gyeongbokgung are eager to view the Sojubang kitchen. There is also much curiosity about everyday life in the palace, including interest in the palace bathrooms. As such, the planning for upcoming palace restoration work will have to consider these kinds of matters.

1


struggle I experienced during the restoration work of Gyeong-bokgung. For a palace carpenter, struggling with wood is inevi-table, but thanks to my lifelong struggle with wood I have been able to make it this far without too much trouble.”

Shin declares that the restoration of Gyeongbokgung is a “reconstruction of Korea’s history.” “There was much public criticism when the former Government General building was torn down. But now that we have completed the first phase of the Gyeongbokgung restoration, I fully believe that former President Kim Young-sam made the right decision. Then Presi-dent Kim issued the demolition order while the Gangnyeong-jeon king’s chamber and the Gyotaejeon queen’s chamber were being reconstructed. Following this announcement, Japanese tourists came by the site in droves. It was amazing to see such a long line of Japanese students waiting to take a photo in front of the Government General building. I guess they felt nostal-gic that a symbol of a colony they had once ruled was being dismantled. In terms of Korea’s national pride, the decision to demolish the Government General building was indeed appro-priate.”

Shin has spent the past 35 years immersed in a “palace life,” overseeing all the palace carpentry work since the resto-ration of Changgyeonggung in 1985. After more than three decades of essentially living in Joseon period palaces, including Gyeongbokgung, Deoksugung, Changdeokgung, and Chang-

gyeonggung, Shin is undoubtedly an encyclopedia of palace knowledge. He sheepishly remarked: “After having worked in the palaces for so long, it feels like I am supporting a crossbeam on my shoulders.”

“Gyeongbokgung has undergone a tragic history. Most of the palaces in Seoul were reduced to rubble during the Japa-nese invasion of 1592, but Gyeongbokgung was simply aban-doned until 1865, when Heungseon Daewongun launched a large-scale reconstruction project to restore all of the palace’s previous buildings. However, during the Japanese colonial pe-riod, some 200 palace buildings were demolished, leaving only about a dozen buildings standing, including Gyeonghoeru and Geunjeongjeon. But it wasn’t enough for the Japanese authori-ties to build the Government General building directly in front of Geunjeongjeon, they even sold off materials from the palace buildings to individuals and did not hesitate to engage in cul-tural pillaging, taking the best quality artifacts back to Japan.”

The Cultural Heritage Administration will begin the sec-ond phase of the Gyeongbokgung restoration in 2011, which is scheduled for completion in 2030 and will require a project budget of 540 billion won (about $470 million). “Personally, the building that I really want to restore is Sojubang, the palace kitchen that was featured in the hit TV drama Dae Jang Geum, which started the Korean Wave. Excavation has already been carried out, and we even have the floor plans, but the restora-

2


tion work was suspended. Thanks to the international popular-ity of Dae Jang Geum, ever more visitors to Gyeongbokgung are eager to view the Sojubang kitchen. There is also much curi-osity about everyday life in the palace, including interest in the palace bathrooms. As such, the planning for upcoming palace restoration work will have to consider these kinds of matters.”

According to Shin, among all the Gyeongbokgung build-ings that have been restored, Gwanghwamun is the finest, in terms of its aesthetics and construction techniques. “Of all the buildings I have worked on, Gwanghwamun is the most beau-tiful. Both Gangnyeongjeon and Gyotaejeon are larger, but they are designed as the living spaces for the king and queen. The buildings’ eaves have a gentle curve and their appearance is at-tractive, but they cannot match the grandeur and majesty of Gwanghwamun.”

Master carpenter Shin recalls a minor incident. “We had a photograph of the lower level interior of the Gwanghwamun. So I carved the patterns based on this photo, but I later discov-ered that the patterns were actually from Treasure No. 1, Heun-injimun [Dongdaemun],” he explained. “While we were work-ing on the interior patterns, the Illustrated Record of Korean Historical Sites, which had been compiled by the Government General authorities, was belatedly discovered and we were

able to install the correct patterns, but we nearly committed a serious error.” The thickness of the Gwanghwamun eaves was also increased at Shin’s insistence to 21 centimeters, from the original 15 centimeters recorded in the documents of Japanese scholars from the colonial period. Thanks to the efforts of Shin, the eaves of Gwanghwamun are now thicker and rise up higher, thereby adding to the gate’s dignified appearance.

Respect for TreesFor palace carpenters, their work is all about wood. They

find suitable trees, fell them, and shape the wood with a plane. I wondered about Shin’s “philosophy of wood,” as someone who has spent his lifetime scouring the country’s mountains for the ideal Korean pine trees. “You must think three times before cutting down a single tree or planing its wood. I must carefully consider, based on the tree’s thickness and the bend of its trunk and branches, whether it is suitable for a particular task, or if it should be allowed to mature and be used for a crossbeam in the future. It takes a tree one year to expand by one or two millimeters, but due to a mistake in judgment a carpenter can instantly plane away years of growth, which can never be recov-ered. All too often, we see politicians who will not think twice about stabbing their opponents in the back or making hurtful

1


remarks, but when the tables are turned they will say some-thing completely different and then have to pay for this later on. If everyone could be more like the carpenter, who exercises much caution when dealing with wood, people would not make such regrettable comments.”

Shin notes: “I have been to the mountains so often that when I pass beneath a tree I automatically lower my head. It weighs heavily on my heart to cut down an old pine tree.” He emphasized: “You should think of a tree as having flesh and blood.” As a result, he performs a unique ritual before he cuts down an old pine. “First, I offer a sacrifice and then a prayer to console the spirit of the tree, after which I raise my ax and declare: ‘This is by royal order!’ three times before striking the tree. While declaring ‘This is by royal order!’ you should look up at the top of the tree. If you do not show this respect for the tree, accidents can happen during the construction. I am uneasy whenever I need to chop down a tree that is hundreds of years old. This ritual was taught to me by the head monk of a temple, where I was building an annex, who told me that this would help to prevent accidents.”

“He explained how trees are living things, too, and that I should not just fell them without conducting a ceremony to show proper respect. The phrase ‘royal order’ was especially fitting for me, as a palace carpenter.” Shin went on to say: “Per-haps it is due to the ‘royal order’ ritual, but thankfully I have ex-perienced no major accidents while restoring Gyeongbokgung and other palace buildings, and we have now safely completed the restoration of Gwanghwamun as well.” He noted: “I feel a great sense of pride that I have been able to obtain wood for 20 years without any major accidents, whether in the mountains or at the construction sites.”

Currently, Shin Eung-soo is overseeing the restoration of Sungnyemun, which was destroyed by a fire in 2008, and the construction of a traditional Korean-style annex to the Na-

tional Assembly building in Yeouido. The wood to be used for the restoration of Sungnyemun is now being dried out at the Gwanghwamun site. Since its launch in September, the gate’s restoration is scheduled to be completed by late 2012. Shin notes: “The National Assembly annex, which is scheduled to be completed at the end of 2010, will be a vibrant example of the excellence of Korea’s traditional architecture.

1 Upon the death of a Joseon king or queen, the body would be temporarily housed at Taewonjeon Shrine, until being interred in a royal tomb.

2 Wooden support pillars of Geunjeongmun’s corridors

3 Nogeumjeong, an example of Korea’s tradi-tional architecture, is found on the grounds of Korea House, a popular restaurant in Seoul. 3

2


Our journey begins at the southern end of Gwanghwamun Square, at the intersection of Sejong-daero and Jongno.

There are quicker ways to get to the palace—Exit 5 of Gyeong-bokgung Station, on the orange Line 3, leads right into the pal-ace compound, and the Seoul City Tour Bus stops in front of the main gate—but we want to take in some of the surround-ing scenery first.

Gwanghwamun Square, Gateway to the PalaceAmid a sea of fountains, a statue of Admiral Yi Sun-shin

towers over the southern end of Gwanghwamun Square. One of Korea’s great military heroes, he defended Korea from the Japanese navy when Japan invaded in the late 16th century. Behind the statue is the entrance to Haechi Madang, an un-derground plaza that leads into the subway. This is where we would have emerged if we had gotten off at the Gwanghwa-mun Station on the purple Line 5. Located in Haechi Madang is the Sejong Belt integrated ticketing and information center. Here you can buy tickets for nearly 30 different concert halls, art museums, and mu-seums located in the area—including the National Palace Museum of Korea and the National Folk Museum of Ko-rea, both of which are located on the grounds of Gyeongbokgung Palace.

Continuing north we meet one of Korea’s greatest cultural heroes, King Sejong the Great. The king sits serenely on his throne, and in one hand rests an open book, the text of the Hun-minjeongeum (“Proper Sounds for Instructing the People”). This writing system is the foundation for the mod-ern Korean script of Hangeul. Before

the statue is a stone engraved with King Sejong’s introduction to the text, along with a modern translation. Other important Korean inventions are also on display here: a concave sundial, a rain gauge, and an astronomical globe clock.

We continue northward, past a bed of flowers and to the end of the plaza. Across the street, the imposing front gate of the palace, Gwanghwamun, rises before us. There are three arched gateways in the stone base, and above the base rises a two-story wooden gatehouse. Flanking the gate are two stone statues of haetae, mythical creatures that are half lion and half unicorn. They look quite fearsome, but they pose no threat to us; the haetae are here to protect against fire, the greatest threat to Korea’s wooden palace buildings.

The Outer Palace and the Seat of PowerOnce inside the great front gate, we find ourselves in a

broad courtyard with a flagged stone walkway leading straight to a second gate. Passing through the dark archways of Gwanghwamun and into the wide open courtyard is like emerging from a wooded trail to find a magnificent vista spread out below; you cannot help but stop for a moment to catch your breath and take it all in. Although Heungnyemun, the second gate, is smaller than Gwang hwamun, the empty space of the courtyard and

A Tour of Gyeongbokgung Palace

After leaving Gwanghwamun Square and the statues of Admiral Yi Sun-shin and King Sejong behind, passing through the gate of Gwanghwamun, and entering Gyeongbokgung, we forget that we had just

been standing in the city center amid a forest of buildings. Now begins our journey back in time to the Joseon Dynasty.

Charles La Shure Professor, Graduate School of Interpretation and Translation, Hankuk University of Foreign StudiesSuh Heun-gang, Ahn Hong-beom Photographer

1 Stone markers in front of Geunjeongjeon designate the areas where court officials would assemble, by rank, for formal sessions with the king.

2 In the heart of downtown Seoul, Gwanghwa-mun provides a gateway to journey back to the time of the Joseon Dynasty.1


the peaks of Mt. Bugaksan in the distant background make it look just as grand.

As we walk toward Heungnyemun we see splashes of color: bright red, blue, and yellow. Drawing closer, those splashes of color become palace guards, standing before the gate with ban-ners and glaives. Like ceremonial guards the world over, they are no longer charged with keeping people out, but they stand their ground nonetheless, no matter what strange modern con-traptions visitors might aim at them.

Once inside Heungnyemun we enter the palace grounds proper. To our right is the ticket booth, where for a mere 3,000 won ($ 2.60) we can tour the palace at our leisure (young peo-ple from 7-18 pay half price, and children under 7 enter free). The ticket booth is also where hour-long guided tours of the palace begin. English tours are held at 11:00, 13:30, and 15:30 daily.

The first thing we notice here is that the flagged stone walk-way is now divided into three parts: two lower paths on each

side for vassals and a raised path in the center for the king. As we continue north we cross a narrow waterway, known as Geumcheon. Streams are a common sight in Korean temples, as they symbolize crossing from the mundane world to the sacred world. Streams also serve to distinguish spaces in Korean palaces, but this distinction is political rather than spiritual—during au-diences with the king, high-ranking officials stood to the north of the stream while those of lower rank stood to the south.

Once across the stream we find ourselves before yet another gate, Geunjeongmun. This gate leads us into the main court-yard of the palace, at the northern end of which stands Geun-jeongjeon, the throne hall and naturally the most imposing building of the palace. Rows of stone markers line the central path on both sides, and these marked where officials of vari-ous ranks stood during audiences with the king. Of course, the higher-ranking officials stood closer to the throne hall, and it is a favorite pastime of visitors to have their picture taken next to the stone markers for the highest-ranking officials.

1


The throne hall itself is a magnificent two-story building that sits upon a two-tier stone base. As we climb the steps be-fore it, stone statues of animals from the zodiac watch us from their perches atop the stone railings. At the top, we can see that the throne hall is actually one grand room with a vaulted ceil-ing. Dominating the room is the king’s throne, behind which is a painting of the sun, moon, and five mountain peaks. These are all symbols of the king, and thus only the king was allowed to own such a painting. It can be hard to see from outside, but if you lean over the railing a bit and look up, you can see two golden dragons at the very apex of the ceiling. Like the sun and moon, dragons are also symbols of the king.

Behind the throne hall we pass through a small door and find ourselves in a less intimidating space. It is quieter here as we stand in front of Sajeongjeon. This is where the king nor-mally spent his time, handling the day-to-day affairs of ruling the nation with his ministers. The name of the throne hall, Geunjeongjeon, means “Hall of Diligent Rule,” a title befit-ting such a grand space. Sajeongjeon, however, means “Hall of Thoughtful Rule,” a name that served to remind the king of the seriousness of his duties. The two smaller buildings here, Manchunjeon to the east and Cheonchujeon to the west, were equipped with heated floors and were thus probably used dur-ing the colder months.

Before we leave the outer palace, let’s take time to look around. One of the most distinctive features of traditional Korean architecture is the sweeping eaves of the hipped-and-gabled roofs, and here we can get our first close look at these roofs. Something on the eaves of Sajeongjeon catches our eye: it is a row of small statues. In fact, these statues can be seen on the eaves of most of the major buildings in the palace, in-cluding Gwanghwamun. Here, however, we can get a closer look at them. Even at this distance it can be hard to make out individual figures, but these are actually representations of the monk Tripitaka (or Xuanzang) and his entourage, including the Monkey King (or Sun Wukong), from the Chinese classic Journey to the West. These statues were placed only on palace buildings to ward off evil spirits.

The Inner Palace and the Rear GardensWe leave behind the outer palace, so called because this was

where the king interacted with the outside world, and move on to the inner palace, the living quarters of the royal family. Directly east of Sajeongjeon is a small compound known as the “Eastern Palace,” or Donggung. This is where the Crown Prince lived, and its location in the east is no mistake; as the next in line for the royal throne, the Crown Prince, was the rising sun of the land.

North of Sajeongjeon is Gangnyeongjeon, the king’s quar-ters, and behind that is Gyotaejeon, the queen’s quarters. One interesting thing to note about these two buildings is that they are the only buildings without ridges at the peaks of their roofs. The Korean word for ridge (yongmaru) refers to dragons, and some say that these buildings lack ridges because the dragon symbolizes the king. After all, it would not do to have two kings

Rows of stone markers line the central path on both sides, and these marked where officials of various rank stood during audiences with the king. Of course, the higher-ranking officials stood closer to the throne hall, and it is a favorite pastime of visitors to have their picture taken next to the stone markers for the highest-ranking officials.

1 The entrance to the palace complex is always bustling with foreign and Korean visitors eager to see the palace buildings and grounds.

2 A large statue of King Sejong can be found nearby Gwanghwamun Gate.

3 The 10th Korea Cultural Properties Craftsman’s Exhibition was staged at Heungnyemun.

2 3


in one building. It is a plausible idea, but the truth is that no one knows for sure why these buildings are different.

We make our way around the queen’s quarters and find ourselves in the only green space in the central palace com-plex. This is the terraced garden of Amisan, adorned with low shrubs, stonework, and beautiful flowers that bloom pink and white in spring. At the west end, a venerable pine leans out over the yard. Perhaps the most famous features of Amisan, however, are the red-orange chimneys that stand in a row at the top. These brick chimneys go beyond mere function to be-come works of art, decorated in relief with various plants and animals.

Continuing north, we leave the main palace complex. To our right is the living quarters of the queen dowager, and ahead

are two buildings of what was once a complex for the king’s concubines. Beyond this, in the northernmost area of the pal-ace, is Geoncheonggung, built by Emperor Gojong as a place of peace and solitude in troubled times. A lotus-covered pond punctuated by a small pavilion in the center is indeed peaceful, and visitors to the palace relax on benches nearby. The build-ings of Geoncheonggung themselves present quite a different face than most of the other palace buildings. They have the same gracefully sweeping roofs, but the wood has not been painted in the deep red and bright colors we see elsewhere. They are not as grand, but possess a subtle and irresistible charm. It is hard to believe now that this peaceful place holds a darker history as the site of the assassination of Empress Myeong seong.


Off to the east we can see the tall pagoda of the National Folk Museum, but we instead turn west to Jibokjae. This build-ing and the surrounding complex are perhaps one of the most intriguing sites in the palace, as they exhibit structural elements that can be found nowhere else in Gyeongbokgung. The first thing we notice is that the sides of Jibokjae are made of brick. It is also a two-story building with an actual second floor, complete with internal staircases. As we draw closer, we can see into the building itself; it is something of a surprise to see the Chinese-style round portal at the far end of the main room. This door leads into an enclosed hallway that runs west to a two-story pavilion and east to a more traditional building. Not only are the hallways enclosed, unlike most traditional Korean buildings, they are lined with glass windows. While the rest of the palace preserves the principles of traditional Korean archi-tecture, Jibokjae and its neighbors show Korean architecture beginning to adopt some foreign and modern conventions.

Farther west, tucked in the northwest corner of the palace grounds, is a shrine complex. This is where deceased members of the royal family were brought after death, where their ances-tral tablets were kept before being moved to the royal shrine of Jongmyo, and where the royal portraits were enshrined. This complex is the most isolated region of the palace, and tends to be the quietest, as it should. We linger here for a brief while in the stillness.

Now, it is time to head south again, back toward the grand gate of Gwanghwamun. One final sight awaits us: the floating pavilion of Gyeonghoeru. The pavilion sits on an island on the east edge of the square pond, and from the north, south, and west it can be seen reflected in the still waters. To the west of the pavilion are two smaller islands that are home to elegant pines. Visitors to the palace rest on the benches that surround the pond, and it is worth our time to spend a few moments here, relaxing and enjoying the serenity of Gyeonghoeru.

On the southern edge of the pond is our final stop, Su-jeongjeon. When Gyeongbokgung was restored in 1867, it was rebuilt as a living quarters, but the building that originally stood here was Jiphyeonjeon, or the Hall of Worthies, the birth-place of Hangeul. We pause for a moment at this historic site before finally leaving the palace. The grand gates and palace buildings give way to the bustling streets of downtown Seoul, but with Gyeongbokgung still in our hearts and minds, we can see this modern city through new eyes, as a capital with a rich, 600-year history.

1 Hyangwonjeong, an idyllic area for the royal family to enjoy a moment of tranquility amidst graceful landscaping, was built during the construction of Geoncheonggung.

2 A railing leading up to Geunjeongjeon is adorned with stone sculptures of the 12 animals of the Oriental zodiac.

1

2


Hahoe and Yangdong Villages Included on World Heritage List

FOCUS

The Hahoe and Yangdong traditional villages in Gyeongsangbuk-do Province are now included on the UNESCO World Heritage List. As a result of this global recognition, the villages have become cultural resources that need to be shared with the people of the world, thereby requiring upgraded preservation efforts on the part of Korea.

Lee Sang-hae Professor, Department of Architecture, Sungkyunkwan University, President of ICOMOS-Korea | Suh Heun-gang Photographer

A panoramic view of Hahoe Village, with the Nakdonggang River flowing alongside. “Hahoe” means “a river circling a village.”


Hahoe and Yangdong Villages Included on World Heritage List

t its 34th meeting (July 26 to August 3, 2010) the World Heritage Committee approved two villages in Korea’s Gyeongsangbuk-do Province, Hahoe in Andong and Yang-

dong in Gyeongju, for inscription on the World Heritage List. The formal inscription is dated as of August 1, 2010, while the official inscription title reads: “Historic Villages of Korea: Hahoe and Yangdong.”

Hahoe and Yangdong Hahoe Village is located in the Pungcheon-myeon of Andong,

while Yangdong Village is found in the Gangdong-myeon of Gyeong ju, both in the Gyeongsangbuk-do Province of southeast-

ern Korea. Of particular significance, the two traditional villages are representative of the aristocratic clan villages of the Joseon Dynasty (1392-1910). Hahoe was founded during the late Goryeo Dynasty (918-1392), and Yangdong in the early years of the Joseon Dynasty. This type of clan village is known as jipseongchon (clan village) or dongseongmaeul (same-family-name village). Hahoe was founded by the Ryu clan of Pungsan, while Yangdong is home to the Son clan of Wolseong and the Yi clan of Yeogang.

The formation of a clan village is based on the manner in which the clan progenitor, or iphyangjo (entering-village ances-tor), first came to the area and settled down. In one method, there is a kind of pioneer or village founder who departs from some-

A


where to settle in a new area, which is the case for Hahoe. An alternative method involves marriage relations, in which a hus-band moves to the village of his wife’s family, where the couple and their descendents then reside on a permanent basis. This would be the background of Yangdong’s formation.

The Ryu clan of Hahoe originally lived in Pungsan, in the Andong area, but about 600 years ago, during the late Goryeo Dynasty, its progenitor Ryu Jong-hye moved from Pungsan and settled in the area that became Hahoe, because he had been so impressed by the gorgeous scenery of its natural surroundings. Ryu’s descendents have remained in Hahoe ever since. On the other hand, the village of Yangdong was settled by Son So (1433-1484), after he married a daughter of Ryu Bok-ha, a resident of Yangdong, and then moved there in 1457. It was customary at

that time for a husband to move to the village of his wife’s fam-ily. Thereafter, Yi Beon (1463-1500), an ancestor of the Yi clan of Yangdong, married a daughter of Son So and moved to Yangdong, where his descendents still live today. The Ryu clan of Hahoe, and the Son and Yi clans of Yangdong, joined the ranks of nobility by producing a number of family members who gained distinction during the Joseon Dynasty.

World Heritage ListAccording to UNESCO’s Operational Guidelines for the Imple-

mentation of the World Heritage Convention, in order for a cul-tural property to be included on the World Heritage List, it must be deemed to possess “outstanding universal value” and satisfy specific criteria related to such qualities as “authenticity” and/or

1 2

3


1 The 600-year-old zelkova tree is a village landmark.

2 The main hall of Anrakjeong in Yangdong Village

3 Since its inscription on the World Heritage List, the number of visitors to Hahoe Village has been on the rise, which necessitates the adoption of more comprehensive preservation measures.

4 A collection of works written by Ryu Seong-ryong (1542-1607; penname Seoae). The Ryu clan of Hahoe is known for producing a number of family members who gained distinction during the Joseon Dynasty.

“integrity.” Outstanding universal value refers to a site with such exceptional cultural or natural significance that its worth tran-scends national boundaries and thus deserves to be preserved for the present and future generations of all humanity. For a property or site to be selected for inscription on the World Heritage List, it has to satisfy one or more of the 10 criteria outlined in the Opera-tional Guidelines. Hahoe and Yangdong were determined to com-ply with criterion No. 3 (“to bear a unique or at least exceptional testimony to a cultural tradition or to a civilization which is living or which has disappeared”) as well as No. 4 (“be an outstand-ing example of a type of building, architectural or technological ensemble or landscape which illustrates (a) significant stage(s) in human history”).

Depending on its type and cultural context, a cultural prop-erty or site can comply with the “authenticity” requirement if its cultural values are truthfully and credibly expressed through a variety of attributes. The World Heritage Committee defines these attributes as: form and design; materials and substance; use and function, traditions, techniques, and management systems; loca-tion and setting; language and other forms of intangible heritage; spirit and feeling; and other internal and external factors. There is further evaluation in regard to artistic, historical, social, and scholarly criteria. Inclusion on the World Heritage List, especially for a cultural site, depends most significantly on its “authenticity.”

Hahoe and Yangdong fulfilled the evaluation criterion and were thus approved for inscription. As a note, World Heritage sites have previously been assigned to a Cultural Heritage or a Natural Heritage category. Up through the end of 2004, six criteria were applied to a cultural heritage and four criteria to a natural heritage. Then, the ten criteria were combined into a single list for the evaluation of both categories. An inscribed property is now generally known as a “World Heritage,” unless it has been speci-fied as a cultural or a natural site. The Hahoe and Yangdong vil-lages are inscribed on the World Heritage List as cultural heritage sites.

“Integrity” is a quality for evaluating the extent to which a nominated property includes the necessary components for being deemed of “outstanding universal value,” in addition to deter-

mining whether the components are of adequate significance to enhance the property’s importance and represent its charac-teristics, and if there are any factors that might adversely affect the property’s cultural significance. Hahoe and Yangdong were recognized for having preserved the four component areas of a representative clan-family village related to: everyday life; official functions, which include the ancestral shrine (sadang), lecture and memorial hall for Confucian scholars (seowon), and pavilions; mountain and river landscape of the natural environmental; and rice paddies and fields used for the livelihood of villagers.

Designation of Two VillagesHahoe and Yangdong have been included on the World Heri-

tage List because of their preservation of a comprehensive Confu-cian heritage that is representative of the Confucianism in East Asian countries. The two ancient clan villages have been founded and developed under the influences of Joseon Neo-Confucianism, the aristocratic (yangban) class, and pungsu (feng shui), principles of geomancy. The physical layout of the villages and their signifi-cant features are distinctive when compared to other traditional villages found in Korea and the Asian region. The two villages received high marks during the evaluation process for several positive factors. In particular, Hahoe and Yangdong are two of the oldest villages in Korea that preserve the distinctive aristocratic culture of the Joseon Dynasty, along with being authentic Korean clan villages, which retain various examples of Korea’s traditional architecture.

A clan village is characterized by a formal physical layout related to social rank. The house of the head family and those of its family branches are located in the center or on the highest point of the village, which are surrounded by houses of the aris-tocrat class, while the homes of commoners are situated farther outward. This coexistence of aristocrats and commoners within a village is not generally seen in China’s clan villages or Japan’s traditional villages.

As the elite class of a clan village, the yangban maintained an ancestral shrine as part of the main family house or a branch family house to show their reverence for common ancestors. The

4


village also included a Confucian shrine-academy (seowon) and a Confucian school (seodang), essential institutes for preparing the yangban to pass the state civil service examination, in order to retain their status, as well as a separate building and pavilion where the Confucian scholars could engage in scholarly and cul-tural pursuits.

To optimize the natural environment, the villagers applied principles of geomancy to identify auspicious sites for build-

ings and residences, by attributing symbolic significance to such physical features as rivers and mountains, and considering their influence on the village. The feng shui of China emphasizes the absolute importance of the four cardinal directions (north, south, east, and west), as well as the front and back, and right and left, which often leads to the development of a pond or stream, in front of, or in the village. The Korean version of feng shui (pungsujiri), however, interprets the natural environment on an individual basis, with a focus on maintaining the existing state of geographi-cal characteristics.

The yangban residence conforms to the basic style of a tradi-tional Korean house, called hanok. The typical hanok is built with a regular wooden floor (maru) for rooms exposed to the outside, while interior rooms include a built-in heating system (ondol) under the floor. The buildings of a hanok residence are used for particular purposes and there are yards enclosed by outer walls. The yard areas serve as open space for outdoor activities. In this way, the traditional Korean house can be distinguished from its counterpart in China, known as sahapwon (siheyuan), which includes a kind of enclosed courtyard. Moreover, while consisting of several buildings for specific functions, the traditional house of Korea differs from that of Japan, which typically includes a single structure with rooms for various purposes. The Korean house is typically configured in the form of ㄱ, ㄷ, or ㅁ.

A regular Korean village is comprised of numerous resi-dences and various buildings separated and surrounded by inner and outer walls. The paths along the walls of individual residences converge at the village entrance in a natural manner, including curved pathways instead of the straight lines of a planned village based on a grid-like pattern. In particular, villages in China are known for adopting more orderly arrangements of houses and walls along straight-line paths.

The main clan residence in a traditional Korean village main-tains an ancestral shrine, with buildings and rooms that must adhere strictly to traditional protocol related to gender and social class. Such customary practices reflect a deep-rooted rever-ence for Confucian principles. In Japan, each household sets up a shrine area within the home to pay respect to family ancestors, while in China, a community building houses the ancestral shrine for the village clan.

Hahoe and Yangdong have carefully preserved the treasured heritage of Korea’s ancient architecture through the maintenance of residential buildings, pavilions, and Confucian academies and study halls. Moreover, the villagers conduct Confucian services and rituals to venerate distinguished scholars and statesmen, more frequently than any other village, in addition to preserving

The two villages received high marks during the evaluation process for several positive factors. In particular, Hahoe and Yangdong are two of the oldest villages in Korea that preserve the distinctive aristocratic culture of the Joseon Dynasty, along with being authentic Korean clan villages, which retain examples of Korea’s traditional architecture.

1 At Hahoe Village, Ryu Un-ryong (1539-1601) engaged in his scholarly pursuits at Binyeonjeongsa, which looks out at the area’s natural landscape.

2 Confucian services are regularly conducted to honor distinguished scholars and statesmen.

3 As a clan village, the layout of Yangdong is based on social rank, which called for the house of the head family to be located at the center or highest point of the village.

1

2


vast collections of the literary works and artifacts of long-ago ancestors. The villagers also continue to keep alive traditional rite-of-passage ceremonies and various folk games that played a prominent social role during the Joseon Dynasty, which relied on Confucian principles to govern the country.

Among Korean villages, Hahoe and Yangdong are truly out-standing in terms of their historical, cultural, scholarly, and aes-thetic values. They are also situated among magnificent natural settings, alongside a passing river and nestled in a lush valley. Moreover, they represent both the pioneer-founder and marriage relations methods for forming a clan village. As such, the two vil-lages are indeed authentic examples of the traditional Korean clan village.

Future TasksAll cultural sites and properties inscribed on the World Heri-

tage List are required to be properly protected through the appli-cation of laws, regulations, institutions, and management systems so that their outstanding universal value, authenticity, and integ-rity can be maintained and enhanced. To protect a World Heritage site, the subject country must demarcate the property area and establish a boundary and buffer zone. The property area is where the cultural site is located, while a surrounding buffer zone is necessary to better protect the site and its related resources. To effectively protect a cultural site, development within the buffer zone is generally restricted.

Hahoe and Yangdong have been jointly inscribed on the World Heritage List as a combined cultural site, based on a serial nomi-nation. Therefore, a cooperative management system is needed for the two villages, even though they actually belong to different administrative districts. For this, Andong, Gyeongju, and Gyeon-sangbuk-do Province, together with the Cultural Heritage Admin-istration of Korea organized a Consultative Body for the Preserva-tion of Hahoe-Yangdong Villages, on April 30, 2010, to coordinate the management operations of the sites.

In addition, to maintain the authenticity of the two villages, plans call for the adoption of new guidelines to assure the qual-ity of restoration efforts and material usage. As for the integrity of the villages, attention will be paid to regularly maintaining the surrounding natural landscape. Related to this, the proposed con-struction of a dam project for the river that flows through Hahoe and the opposite cliff side, known as Buyongdae, which is included in the government’s “Four Rivers Project,” is now likely to be can-celled.

A final and most important task is to prepare for the inflow of tourists, whose numbers are expected to swell in the near future, while the village residents need to be actively involved in the related planning efforts and implementation initiatives. Tourism-related plans will have to achieve a balance, in term of efforts to accommodate the visitors and to respect the privacy of the villagers.

3

Novelist Shin Kyung-sook’s Expression of Hope and CompassionShin Kyung-sook is one of Korea’s most celebrated writers of modern times. Her recent book Please Look After Mom (Eommareul butakhae) was the bestseller of 2009. Publishing rights have been sold to publishers in 19 coun-tries, which include an English-language edition being published in the United States on April 8, 2011, by Alfred A. Knopf of Random House. Around the same time, the book will be published in France, Germany, Spain, Italy, the Netherlands and Norway in their respective languages. Another book by Shin released in May this year, The Phone Is Ringing for Me Somewhere has become an instant bestseller, proving again the immense popularity of her works.

Choi Jae-bong Reporter, The Hankyoreh Shinmun

INTERVIEW

“I continue to write my novels with a hope they might nourish, with motherly caresses, that which is dying and bring them back to life.”

ith Where the Harmonium Once Stood (Punggeumi itdeon jari), a collection of short stories published in 1993, Shin Kyung-sook made an impressive inroad into the heart of Korea’s contemporary literature. The book instantly made

her the foremost writer of aesthetic Korean novels published in the 1990s. Moreover, the book was a commercial success, which marks a rare feat for a collection of short stories. Thereafter, Shin’s works have received much literary acclaim, along with earning commercial success, making her the queen of 1990s Korean literature.

Emotive EvocationIn 1985, Shin Kyung-sook made her literary debut with a short story pub-

lished in a literary magazine, which led to the publication of her first collec-tion of short fiction, Winter Fables (Gyeoul uhwa) in 1990. As such, her

literary career got underway in the 1980s, when Korea experi-enced a series of repressive military dictatorships that resulted in fer-

vent democratic protests from all sectors of Korean society. In light of this public turmoil, writers often sought to emphasize social responsibility. However, a narrow

focus on its ability to shape social reform led to a distortion of literature’s intrinsic purpose and its creative autonomy. Accordingly, writers of the subsequent decade

seriously reflected upon this influence. So, it is easy to imagine just how this period’s grimness weighed heavily upon Shin’s sensitivities. As she later expounded in an essay,

she “thought of literature more in terms of its emotive evocation than of its power to cause social change.”

In this way, she maintained a marked distance from the mainstream ideology of the 1980s literary scene. Around the time that her short stories were being published in magazines and later compiled into the book Winter Fables, Korea’s literary circles were not favorably impressed with the “Shin Kyung-sook style.” To get a sense of her style, it is helpful to look over the dreams that she contemplates in her essay “Things Indescribable” (Malhaejil su eomneun geotdeul):

“Farewell, for your heart refuses to listen to your mind. Sadness, beauty, things that have disappeared, a world beyond logic inaccessible by scientific minds, things indescribable. All these things. A desire to breathe life into those whose life has been crushed or the anonymous beings who nobody cares about. The shadow of death that haunts us everywhere. Love powerless to over-come time. Preoccupation with the unattainable. Yearning for what is no longer here…The dream of representing the indescribable in my writings. The dream of beckoning back what has disappeared, leading them to reach their essence and immersing them in the fragrance of nature. The unattainable dream of eventually framing this moment to last for all eternity.”

In spite of her use of such philosophical terms as “representing” and “essence,” this excerpt should be understood in terms for its emotional resonance, rather than an objective state-ment or a logical argument. Through her novels, Shin seeks to express her emotional, or internal, truth as opposed to putting forth logical reasoning or promoting grand social causes. In this way, she reveals a profound interest in and empathy for the weaknesses and limitations of the individuals, who are powerless when the ruthless passage of time brings them face to face with separation or death. While acknowledg-ing that her stories may not be able to stand up to the ravages of time, she maintains faith and hope that they will offer consolation to the people experiencing such plight. As for Shin’s writing style, her words and sentences, arranged with painstaking care like the stitches of an exquisite work of embroidery, adeptly reveal the delicate texture of humans and their everyday reality. Shin has a knack for imbuing trivial and dismal details of the quotidian with poetic luminosity.

Early AcclaimKorea’s literary scene of the 1990s, which was characterized by a reflective criticism of the previous

decade, welcomed Shin’s works with an overwhelming acceptance. Her novels created an ideal harmony

W


with the times. She nearly swept all the major literary awards, including the Han kook Ilbo Literary Award, Today’s Writer Award, Hyundae Liter-ary Award, Manhae Literary Award, Dong-in Literary Award, and Isu Literary Award. This all occurred in a period of three to four years, and within the first decade since her literary debut. This brilliance reflects the high acclaim that her literature has earned from readers and critics alike. Korea’s literary world was unequivocal in its praise of her literary excellence, despite the existence of differing ideological stances among Korean society. Changbi Publishers, Inc., a pro-gressive publishing house, selected Shin for the Manhae Literary Award for her novel A Room Apart (Oettan bang), which reminisc-es about her days when she worked at a factory while attending night school. Changbi Publishers demonstrated its support for the “Shin Kyung-sook style” by publishing her third collection of short fiction Long Ago, When I Left My Home (Orae jeon jibeul tteonal ttae) as well as the recent bestseller Please Look After Mom.

Published after Deep Sorrow (Gipeun seulpeum) and A Room Apart, Shin’s third novel The Train Leaves at Seven (Gichaneun ilgopsie tteonane) is set against a backdrop of the democratic movements of the 1980s. This theme, however, should not to be regarded as a form of “repayment” for her endorsement by Changbi Publishers and the Manhae Literary Award. In fact, Shin has not been completely immune to the influences of the student movements for democracy and social reform that held sway over Korea in the 1980s, while she was a college student. And this can also be seen in her latest novel The Phone is Ringing for Me Somewhere (Eodiseonga nareul channeun jeonhwaberi ulligo). In her stories, however, political and social issues are addressed and sublimated through an alchemy of personal wounds and memo-ries. “I’ve always made the social milieu of a time visible through the individual characters of my stories. I think I’ve revealed, in my own way, the unfavorable reality that forms a powerful basis of my stories. I hope people suffering from failures, obscurity or sorrow will be able to move ahead in their lives by reading my novels,” Shin professed.

Following her prolific years in the 1990s, Shin continued to

create new works in the 2000s.After the publication of her short story collection The Strawberry Field (Ttalgibat) in 2000, and the rewritten novel Violet in 2001, she released

another short story collection The Sound of a Bell (Jongsori) in 2003 and the two volume historical novel Lee Jin in 2007.

Please Look After MomAfter her brief attempt at a historical novel with Lee Jin, Shin

returned to her forte—a story of families—and published Please Look After Mom in November 2008, which again made her a best-selling author.

This novel revolves around the disappearance of an elderly woman, with signs of senility, and her family who belatedly real-ize how much they loved her and how she played a central role in their lives. The novel is comprised of four chapters and an epilogue, with each chapter told by a family member: the eldest daughter, eldest son, father, and the mother herself. It is notewor-thy that the speaker of each chapter is referred to as “you,” “your brother,” “your father” and “your mother.” By adopting four points of view, this narrative mode helps the reader to better understand the characters and circumstances from multiple perspectives.

In the first chapter, a second-person narration of the eldest daughter, the illiterate mother and the novelist daughter are contrasted in conspicuous detail. With the news that her daugh-ter’s books had been published in braille and distributed to the blind, the mother says: “At least they can read the books that you wrote.” What she means by this terse comment is that she regrets her inability to read her own daughter’s books, as the mother of a novelist and with normal vision. Because of her lifelong anguish over not being able to read, she encouraged her daughter to be well educated and to become a writer. The daughter, in the face of the unexpected disappearance of her mother, is obliged to use her ability with words to find her mother. So she prepares flyers to seek assistance from local residents. With the task at hand, she wonders to herself: “Would one of your sentences help to find your missing mother?” Indeed, there is little need for her story telling ability in such flyers, which only include her mother’s latest photo

“The dream of representing the indescribable in my writings. The dream of beckoning back what has disappeared, leading them to reach their essence and immersing them in the fragrance of nature. The unattainable dream of eventually framing this moment to last for eternity.” (From Shin Kyung-sook’s essay “Things Indescribable”)

An editor noted: “Shin usually spends more than three hours at a book-sign-ing event because she enjoys having personal contact with her individual readers.”


and a list of factual information, such as her name, age, appear-ance, and last-known location.

Therefore, this introspection might not be only about the flyer, but about the entire novel, which is itself an account of the search for her missing mother and a revelation of her true self, reconstructed through the thoughts of the other family members. Although the old woman never returns to her family, the process of retrieving and reflecting upon the memories of her gives the family an opportunity to see the mother in a new light. The fam-ily is thus awakened to the fact that they have never really tried to know her, or have unconsciously refused to face the reality that the selfless old woman was an individual with her own complex inner world, even before she was their devoted mother and wife. Ultimately, Please Look After Mom is about a search for love and hope brought about by a tragic incident and the sadness that ensues.

Shin’s most recent novel, The Phone is Ringing for Me Some-where, portrays a rite of passage that the protagonist named Yun, and her three friends (Myeong-seo, Miru and Dan), undergo as these 20-year-olds struggle to deal with friendship, love, death, and separation. The fact that the novel is also known as “Look after Youth” reflects the lengthy shadow cast over this work by the author’s previous bestseller success.

As with most of Shin’s literature, this novel is also rooted in the 1980s. Yet, the author clearly expressed her desire for this work to be read as a story without a specific time or setting. Nevertheless, its inclusion of the student demonstrations taking place in down-town Seoul on a daily basis, along with references to Myeongdong Catholic Cathedral and Seoul City Hall Plaza, with clouds of tear gas hanging in the air, and such everyday items as typewriters and payphones (rather than computers and cell phones), provide vivid imagery of the 1980s.

Miru’s sister, Mirae, is in love with a leader of the student activists, who goes missing while fleeing from the authorities. After being told that her boyfriend cannot come back alive, Mirae sets herself afire and jumps from the roof of a building. Her sis-ter’s death drives Miru to lock herself within her small room. While her close friends Myeong-seo and Yun participate in street demonstrations, singing and marching with other protesters, Miru starves to death, alone in her empty room. The remorse of a char-acter who wanders the street among protesters while her close friend is dying alone from starvation is also found in the author’s early short story Far Away on the Endless Road (Meolli kkeu-deomneun gil wie). Another friend, Dan, is also killed in a mysteri-ous incident, which is deemed to be an accidental shooting, while serving in the military.

This novel begins with a prologue, in which Myeong-seo, who has gradually drifted apart from Yun after the untimely deaths of their close friends, calls Yun for the first time in eight years. The title of the prologue “May I Go to You?” corresponds to the epi-logue “I Am Going to You,” in terms of a symmetrical structure, while Myeong-seo’s question at the beginning is answered by

Yun at the end. While Please Look After Mom is a search for love and hope amid a tragic situation of the mother’s disappearance, The Phone is Ringing for Me Somewhere celebrates a struggle for understanding and communication in the midst of death and separation.

Foreign ReadershipSince July, Shin Kyung-sook has been staying in New York

with her husband Nam Jin-woo, a poet and literary critic, who is taking a one-year sabbatical from his university. Working as a visiting scholar at Columbia University, Shin discusses her works with students or attends lectures of her interest.

“Reading books and listening to lectures at the school, I feel like a student again. There are so many people of different races in the streets of New York, the city seems like a smaller version of the globe. Here, I walk for two or three hours every day, and visit many galleries, theaters or music halls,” said Shin.

Since July, Please Look After Mom has been circulated in tem-porary binding among critics and booksellers, and the presale of this book is going on at Amazon.com. The author mentioned that witnessing this publication process in the United States, which was different from that in Korea, was an enlightening experience.

Shin noted, “I’m thrilled to be here in the United States so that I can see how American readers respond to my book. Things are progressing smoothly because Robin Desser, the senior editor at Knopf, is especially interested in this novel. I’ve fre-quently exchanged e-mails with the editor, and she also seems to be attracted by the universal appeal and sentimental feelings aroused by a mother character.”

The response of the U.S. book market to this novel may well serve as a benchmark to measure the appeal of Korean novels among English-speaking readers with rather selective tastes. Accordingly, Shin Kyung-sook is not alone in awaiting, with great anticipation, the release of the translated version of Please Look After Mom.

“I heard that translated works represented only 3 to 4 percent of all the published books in the United States. Perhaps, Ameri-cans may not feel the need for translation because English domi-nates the world. According to Professor Ted Hughes at Columbia, the quality of English translations of Korean literature has gotten much better recently. He was happy about that because he could use some good works as textbooks for his students. He told me Columbia had a plan to employ seven professors in Korean stud-ies within a year. I notice that American academia has a growing interest in Korea.”

After the publication of the book, Shin Kyung-sook plans to have a book tour from April to May in the United States and Canada. Afterward, she will set out to take a month-long book tour in Europe, too. As physically demanding as these tours may be, Shin does not hide her anticipation about the prospect of observing the response of her American and European readers.



ARTISAN

Accentuates the Elegant Roof LineLee Keun-bok Master Roof Tiler

Lee Keun-bok, who is currently participating in the reconstruction of the Sungnyemun Gate, is a master artisan who has devoted the past 40 years of his career to perfecting the art of laying roof tiles on traditional-style Korean structures. He thinks of his work as an effort to create a “rhythmic roof line that resembles the curved back of a giant whale frolicking at sea.”

Park Hyun Sook Freelance Writer | Ahn Hong-beom, Kim Young-gwang Photographers

To master roof tiler, Lee Keun-bok, the building of a traditional Korean roof is a combination of structural function and graceful elegance.


t’s as if the sky is falling” is an expression used by Koreans to describe a sense of hope-lessness. This is the lament that Lee Keun-bok (61), a roof tiler who works on Korea’s traditional buildings, experienced whenever he saw the collapsed roof of a structure while

he was a young boy. A deep-rooted memory of this despair has driven Lee to become the mas-ter roof tile artisan that he is today. The road to becoming a traditional roof tiler has been an arduous journey, but as he progressed steadily, Lee said he discovered the hope and truth of another Korean saying: “Though the sky may fall there is always a way out.”

The traditional architecture of Korea embodies the people’s view of the universe and their sense of aesthetics. Fundamental concepts of Korean cosmology, including principles related to taegeuk (great absolute), yin and yang, the five elements, circular heaven and square earth, and the three essential elements, are reflected in the structure of a traditional roof, while the use of natural materials, such as wood, earth, straw, and paper, represents an effort to real-ize harmony with nature. The roof of a traditional Korean house (hanok) is made with thatch materials or tiles. The line of a thatched roof house is compared to the ridge of a docile cow’s back, while that of a tiled-roof house conforms to the mountain slopes behind the house, along with reflecting the agility and gracefulness of a crane’s wings just before it lands. The elegant lines of a traditional roof, with gable or hip-and-gable styles, impart a sense of quiet stability.

The roof is an especially significant component in completing the graceful beauty of Korea’s traditional architecture. According to ancient philosophy, the three essential elements (samjae) of the universe included heaven, earth, and man. When applied to traditional archi-tecture, the roof symbolizes heaven, while the building’s foundation represents earth. As such, the space between heaven and earth is the abode of human beings. As for a traditional-style house, since the roof links the space for humans with the heaven above, it should be the most attractive aspect of the wooden structure. Therefore, it can be said that the beauty of the roof depends on the capability of the artisan who installs the roof tiles. Lee was designated Impor-tant Intangible Cultural Property No. 121, for his vast expertise in working with traditional roof tiles, on October 21, 2008, making him Korea’s only individual to be so honored.

Hanok’s Enduring EleganceSome things can only be learned through personal experience. Truth is not necessar-

ily demonstrated by showing cleverness or even reading 10,000 books, but through real-life experience. From his father, who was a construction worker, Lee learned the building trades by following him from one work site to another. In this process, he came to realize that the key to a building’s beauty and durability was related to properly laying the roof tiles.

I“


“The labor is divided these days. But in the past, a builder had to know carpentry as well as some ten other skills. I learned how to build a complete house on my own. My father was a builder in my hometown of Imsil in Jeollabuk-do Province. I helped him at work from the time I was a little boy, and learned everything about building a house. When I was young, I remember seeing so many houses with rotting rafters because the roof had leaked when it rained. When the rafters start to rot there is nothing you can do about it. The roof will eventually collapse. I hated to see a roof in that condition. To me, it was like seeing the sky fall. Building a house is no easy task. I felt acutely the importance of the roof tiles and I thought to myself: ‘That’s it. I want to work with roof tiles.’” As a young man, Lee sought out Korea’s most prominent roof tilers and started to learn the tricks of the trade. For this, he became an apprentice of the late master tiler Gi Seon-gil, and as he honed his skills, Lee began to take personal pride in his work.

No matter how beautiful a traditional house might appear, if the roof tiles are not properly installed, then the building cannot last for long. It was not uncommon for the structure of a house to weaken only two or three years after being built, if the roof leaked during rain or snow. Palace buildings, temples, and the finest old houses, which have been preserved as cultural treasures, had been built with the highest quality materials available. Natural quicklime, which can last for 1,000 years, was applied in place of cement, which might last about 100 years, along with the wood from carefully selected mature trees. But no matter how much attention was paid to the materials and construction processes, if the roof tiles were not properly laid, the result would be like attempting to erect a tower on sand. From 1970, Lee roamed the country with his teacher Gi Seon-gil and gradually accumulated roofing skills during a ten-year period. Gi was the foremost tiler of his time and those who sought a high-quality roof would retain Gi to oversee the roof tile work, regardless of the cost.

Lee was determined to follow in the footsteps of his master, whose name alone guaranteed the highest quality tile roof pos-sible. Such clarity of purpose inspired Lee to become a master of laying roof tiles and all other aspects of building a traditional Korean house. While treading along the same path over the past 40 or so years, Lee has renovated or newly constructed the roofs of numerous historical buildings around the country, including Sungnyemun Gate (National Treasure No. 1), the southern gate of ancient Seoul when the capital area was enclosed by a series of outer walls, and prominent buildings of the five Joseon palaces, such as Sujeongjeon Hall and Gyeonghoeru Pavilion of Gyeong-bokgung Palace, and Donhwamun Gate, the main entrance to Changdeokgung Palace, as well as some 200 other projects, such as Geungnakjeon of Bongjeongsa Temple and the main hall of Beopjusa Temple.

Functional GracefulnessIt is not known exactly when roof tiles were developed in

Korea, but the findings of excavated sites indicate that they had

1 Earthen mortar is applied so that the tiles remain in place

2 A tiling knife is always at hand when laying roof tiles

3 Each roof ridge requires special attention.

4 The end-tile piece for a roof ridge is often decorated with auspicious symbols or Chinese characters.

5 Lee Keun-bok carefully inspects the framework and filler material before he begins to lay the roof tiles.

1

2

3

4


been in widespread use during the Three Kingdoms period (57 B.C.-A.D. 668). The roof tile is made from clay that is shaped into a curved form. After being fired at extremely high temperatures of 1,000-2,000 degrees Celsius, the tiles are exceptionally durable, but only the pieces without any cracks or deformities are used to build the roof.

In accordance with yin and yang principles, there are two types of tiles: male (convex) and female (concave). The roof-end tiles include male and female pieces as well. The concave tiles are laid down first, from the center down to the eaves. In general, three overlapping tiles form a unit, which ensures that even if two of the tiles should crack, the unit maintains a seal and the roof will not leak. The convex tiles, which are joined to the concave tiles with a mortar made of mud, are laid in straight lines from the end of the rafters to the top of the roof ridge. The lines are capped with roof-end tiles that are also affixed with earthen mortar to prevent the tiles from slipping out of position. The curved lines formed by the tiles are the essence of the roof’s graceful elegance.

“One of the key features of Korea’s traditional architecture

is the beauty of curved lines, which is best expressed in the roof lines. When seen from a distance, over 70 percent of the roof tiles can be seen. The tiles that finish off the corners and cover the main roof ridge are the most important. The weight of the tiles, and the earth and branch filler materials that support the load, is substantial. Each tile weighs about 7 kilograms. Reconstruction of the Sungnyemun roof required 18,000 concave tiles and another 7,200 convex tiles, as well as 500 pairs of roof-end tiles. If the support framework beneath does not properly bear the weight of the roof tiles, the roof might sag and lose the roof line’s natural beauty. The roof tiler is thus responsible for achieving both func-tion and beauty at the same time,” notes Lee.

Although the carpenters may take a year to complete a house, a tiler’s work can be completed in about 20 days. A sturdy frame-work needs to be in place to support the roof tiles. Woven thin wood strips or woven branches are placed on top of the rafters and filled in with earth and miscellaneous wood pieces to shape the roof slope. When the building’s framework has been com-pleted, the tiler carves the wooden guides to snugly lock together

“Reconstruction of the Sungnyemun roof required 18,000 concave tiles and another 7,200 convex tiles, as well as 500 pairs of roof-end tiles. If the support framework beneath does not properly bear the weight of the roof tiles, the roof might sag and lose the roof line’s graceful elegance. The roof tiler is thus responsible for achieving both function and beauty at the same time.”

5


1


4

the curved tiles. The carved guides are crucial to assure the roof’s stability and elegant form. To install small roof tiles, the carving is shallow and at closer intervals. For larger tiles, the wooden guides need to be thicker and the tiles affixed in place with special roofing nails, known as wajeong. If the panel and branch filler is too thick, the curvature of the roof lines will be diminished, but if the filler level is too low, the tiles will crack more easily. To make the mortar used to join the tiles together, it is important to combine the proper amounts of earth and quicklime to assure a secure bond so that the tiles will not slip or shift. Since all related processes need to be undertaken with great precision, the experi-ence and skill of the roof tiler are critical.

“For the roof of Gyeonghoeru Pavilion, which covers an area of some 1,980 square meters, a crew of 20 roofers spent an entire month to complete the work. Some of the deeper spaces over the rafters were filled in with 60 centimeters of earth. Careful consid-eration was given to determining the amount of earth and filler materials in order to achieve an ideal balance. Few jobs can test a person’s patience as much as tiling a roof. In summer, the tiles heat up and can reach a temperature of 60 to 70 degrees Celsius. It is difficult to breathe and move around, but you have to keep your eyes on the curve of the tiles and match up the lines. It’s like a sauna up there. In contrast, in winter we are exposed to biting, harsh wind. In addition to the cold, there is always the danger of falling. The tiles are slippery under foot and the strain on your back can be so painful. But when the roof is completed, after all your hard work, the shiny tiles form graceful curves. It’s a sight that brings me much satisfaction,” Lee says.

Real-life ExperiencesLee says he learned many truths about life while working on

roofs over the years. Carving the wooden framework and filling in the space above the rafters with earth and filler materials in prep-aration for laying the tiles has taught him the importance of what

goes on beneath the surface. In addition, no matter how skilled a tiler might be, if he does not make an effort to cooperate closely with the carpenters, everything will be in vain. From this fact, he has learned to assume a humble approach. Lee stressed that the tile maker and the carpenter are inseparable, while noting the carpenter must place each nail so that the building can support 1,000 pounds and the tiler must place the roof tiles so that the house can stand firm for 1,000 years. A tiler can only be recog-nized as a true artisan when he is prepared to take responsibility for 1,000 pounds and 1,000 years.

Under the intense sun of summer, without a spot of shade, Lee learned perseverance, while in the biting cold of winter he acquired patience. Today, he is passing on the rewards that he has gained through these experiences to his apprentices. With his own funds, he has established a training center in Susaek, Gyeonggi-do Province, where he trains 20 apprentices. Even in the middle of winter he puts up greenhouse structures and directs his energy to practical applications. “I want to pass on everything I know, before I grow any older,” Lee explains. “I believe it’s worth-while for a human being, who lives less than one hundred years, to devote a lifetime to creating beautiful wooden buildings that will last a thousand years. When I see a rhythmic roof line that resembles the curved back of a giant whale frolicking at sea, an indescribable happiness fills my whole body.”

Lee also actively seeks out senior tilers for advice so that he can continue to learn. Whenever he finds an elderly artisan, who is typically in his seventies or eighties, he pleads with the person to: “Teach me everything you know!” In the face of such passion, the elderly tilers, who have devoted their lives to their work, gladly reveal their bundle of skills. Lee puts what he learns into practice right away and makes the new skills his own. And then he passes on what he knows to his apprentices. His only regret is that time is so short.

1 A roof ridge end-tile piece engraved with a twin-dragon design.

2 The laying of roof tiles on a traditional Korean building is a highly labor-intensive process for which no shortcuts are allowed. 2

long with bronze daggers and other weapons, the mirrors called danyugyeong are the major relics of Korea’s Bronze Age culture. Similar mirrors have also been found in northeastern China and Kyushu, Japan, and it is believed they originated from bronze

buttons from the Ordos region or multi-knob mirrors from the Yin-Shang period of China. There are two types of bronze mirrors with multiple knobs: those with coarsely engraved

designs and those with fine designs. The artifact introduced here is the Bronze Mirror with Two Knobs and Fine Linear Design (National Treasure No. 141) in the collection of the Korean Christian Museum at Soongsil University. It is the principal relic of Korea’s Bronze Age. The decorated side, on the back of the shiny reflective surface, is divided into three sections which are decorated with a fine and intricate geometric design consisting of a sawtooth pattern (composed of triangles) and a pattern of concentric circles.

This kind of bronze mirror was very widespread in the region below the Daedonggang River (now in North Korea) in the second and third centuries B.C. So far some 25 relics have been found, mostly bronze daggers, bronze spears and bronze bells. Such items were mostly recovered in wood-chamber tombs with stone mound, pit tombs, and wood-coffin tombs in archaeological sites in Daegok-ri in Hwasun and Chopo-ri in Hampyeong, Jeollanam-do Prov-ince. Relics were also found not only throughout the Korean Peninsula but also in neighboring regions such as Kyushu, Japan.

Korea’s Finest Multi-knob Mirror The bronze mirror in the collection of the Korean Christian Museum at Soongsil University

is the biggest and most elaborately decorated bronze mirror ever found in Korea. With a diam-eter of 21.2 centimeters, it is smooth on one side and decorated on the back, where two knobs are found. The design is divided into the outer, middle and inner sections. The outer section features rows of vertical triangles depicted in fine lines with a pair of concentric circles in four spots. The middle section also features rows of triangles while the central section is divided

MASTERPIECES

Bronze Mirror Reflects the Height of TechnologyThe major types of mirrors handed down in Korea are stone mirrors, iron mirrors and bronze mirrors. The most famous among them are the round mirrors with two or three knobs called danyugyeong (literally “multi-knob mirror”).

Cho Hyun-jong Chief Curator, National Museum of Korea

Photographs Korean Christian Museum at Soongsil University

A


Bronze Mirror with Two Knobs and Fine Linear DesignBronze Age, 2nd-3rd century B.C., diameter: 21.2 cm, thickness: 1 cm (rim), National Treasure No. 141, Korean Christian Museum at Soongsil University


into four parts, each part featuring triangles also. The central section is slightly thicker than the outer section and therefore bulges a little.

Composed of 13,000 fine lines engraved at 0.3 millimeter intervals, the design is a mystery in technical terms and naturally the outstanding feature of this mirror. No other country in the world had the technology to produce such an elaborate design 2,200 to 2,300 years ago. The production of a design that would have called for the equivalent of modern high technology at the time is astonishing.

Through the discovery of casting molds on the Korean Peninsula it has been confirmed that the ancient bronze mirrors in general were made by casting molten bronze in talc molds. However, a design of such fine lines at close intervals would have been impossible to produce in the casting process. Even a skilled technician of today would find it difficult to divide a cir-cular band into 1 centimeter squares, divide them into two triangles and fill each with more than 20 fine lines, as found on this mirror. Even more amazing is the way the circles in the outer section are composed of 20 concentric circles in a diameter of less than 2 centimeters. Moreover, considering that the mirror is small and only several millimeters thick, the difficulty of casting such an artifact would have been great. It is certain, however, that the mirror, made of the ideal bronze alloy for its purpose, is the result of long accumulated bronze manufacture and metallurgical technology and the finest casting techniques of its time.

Representative Bronze MirrorsIn general, ancient Chinese bronze mirrors were decorated with designs for good fortune

featuring dragons or human figures. Korean bronze mirrors, however, are distinguished by the pattern of triangles made of fine lines, which reached a peak around the third century B.C.

The basic motifs found on mirrors with fine linear designs are lightning bolts, sawtooth, stars, and concentric circles. The pattern of repeated triangles filled with numerous parallel lines is one of the geometric patterns that have been universally used by humankind. Star and sawtooth designs comprised of these repeated triangles are basically representations of rays shining from the sun. The designs found on Korean bronze mirrors with fine linear designs from the second–third century B.C. belong in this category.

The radiating sawtooth designs found on the skillfully made bronze mirrors enhance the effect of the reflection of sunlight, the essential function of a mirror. The triangular sawtooth pattern itself not only signifies the radiation of sunlight but is also perceived to be a symbol of sun-like authority. Hence bronze mirrors featuring such finely made designs are regarded as important relics in understanding the social structure of the Bronze Age.

For instance, the reflection of the mystical light of the sun to focus on one place or the reflection of one’s own image was an incredible phenomenon. In the past the reflection of light was a mystical sight, and witnesses would surely have experienced feelings of amazement,

Composed of 13,000 fine lines engraved at 0.3 millimeter intervals, the design is a mystery in technical terms and naturally the outstanding feature of this mirror. No other country in the world had the technology to produce such an elaborate design 2,200 to 2,300 years ago.



The mirror’s backside features a decora-tive design and two knobs for hanging with a string. The front is polished smooth to reflect an image. The mirror would be wrapped in silk and stored in a mirror case.

fear, or perhaps horror. The ruler who possessed a mirror decorated with such fine designs would have used it to control people’s emotions and thereby to achieve certain objectives.

Magical PowersThe most important ritual implements of shamans, who still exist in Korea today, are

the sword, mirror and bells. The lineage of such implements can be traced back to the three magical implements—a bronze sword, a bronze mirror and bronze rattles—excavated from a second–third century B.C. tomb known to be that of a head shaman priest. These implements are also the origin of the sword, mirror and jade in Japanese mythology.

The mirror is a symbolic item and a magical implement not only for Korean shamans but also those in Siberia. From the fact that Bronze Age mirrors with multiple knobs are mostly found lying on the chest of the deceased and that the designs on the mirrors are closely relat-ed to the sun, it can be surmised that the mirrors were symbolic items in the possession of chief shaman priests or tribal leaders at a time when it was believed the ruler of the state and god were one and the same.

As for the meaning of the implements, the sword contributed to the welfare of the indi-vidual or the group by banishing evil while the rattle was shaken to make a sound to invoke the gods. As shamanic implements used for ritual purposes, they were naturally the possessions of the shaman, who served as a medium bringing together heaven and earth with the sound of the rattle. These archaeological relics excavated from ancient tombs identify the occupants of the tomb as shaman chiefs, who led rituals with the power to move the gods of the sun and the natural world using mirror and rattle.


The “Realism in Asian Art” exhibition, a joint undertaking of Singapore’s National Art Gallery and Korea’s National Museum of Contemporary Art, was first presented in Singapore and then in Korea. Featuring 104 paintings by artists from 10 Asian countries, the exhibition sought to explore the locally cultivated modern art of Asia that expressed the tumultuous times of the Asian region, from the late 19th century through the 1980s.

Kim Inhye Curator, National Museum of Contemporary Art, Korea

Photographs National Museum of Contemporary Art, Korea

‘Realism in Asian Art’ Explores the 20th Century History of Asia

ART REVIEW

1


ecently, the international art community has shown a heightened interest in Asian art, especially the contemporary art of Asia since the 1990s, when the influences of globalization could be seen around the world. Asian art before that time did not

receive its due recognition from the public or academia. Prominent artists of the early modern Asian period, who gained considerable popularity in their home countries, had been scarcely known in the international art world. For much of the 20th century, the countries of Asia faced similar historical circumstances, including colonization and the two World Wars. The imperialistic international structure and the all-out wars waged worldwide forced each country to develop an ability to compete at a global level.

Contemporary Asian ArtAs for the fields of arts and culture, the ideological issues that plagued Korea dur-

ing its colonial period, such as regional conflicts and a clash between nationalistic and proletariat arts, also affected the Philippines and Indonesia around this same time. After the end of World War II, socialist countries such as China and Vietnam embarked on a completely separate path from that of the Philippines, Korea, Thailand, and other Asian countries, which maintained close relations with the United States. Most of the U.S.-aligned countries in Asia fell under the influence of the American Abstract Expressionism of the 1950s. As a reaction to this, a new realism movement, with political undertones, was advocated by the college students of various Asian countries in the 1970s and 1980s. In addition, a dichotomous debate on modernism versus realism was seen in many coun-tries of the Asian region as well.

This common awareness and tendency of Asian artists were reflected in their works with varying degrees of intensity. Meanwhile, the demise of the Cold War and the intro-duction of the new globalization paradigm enabled this Asian past to be understood from

1 Raja Ravi Varma, India, Lady in the Moonlight, 1889

21 Takahashi Yuichi, Japan, Courte-san, 1872

3 Raden Saleh, Indonesia, Puncak Pass, 1871

R

2

3


a more objective perspective. It is thus time to conduct a more fundamental assessment of the recent surge of interest in contemporary Asian art.

Coming up with a neat definition for realism is a difficult task. A discussion of real-ism in terms of Western art history tends to focus on such 19th-century artists as Gustav Courbet, Honoré Daumier, or Jean Francois Millet, along with an inclusion of 1930s art forms, such as the social realism of the United States or the socialist realism of the for-mer Soviet Union. Therefore, the fundamental matter of a discussion of realism is not about the question of what “defines” realism, but about which “aspect” of realism that might be embodied in a particular artwork. As such, realism is often discussed as a view-point or attitude, rather than a specific style.

Accordingly, the exhibition did not attempt to define realism or to present a historical genealogy. Instead, it focused on five themes to suggest diverse branches of realism, and assigned the 104 works by the artists from 10 Asian countries (Korea, China, Japan, India, Singapore, Malaysia, Vietnam, Thailand, Indonesia and the Philippines) to groups based on the five themes.

Exhibition ThemesThe first theme addressed how Asian artists first encountered the Western painting

tradition and accepted it as a representational technique. When Western painting was first introduced to Asia, it was thought of as a realistic expressive technique for depicting

By organizing the works into five themes, the exhibition helped to shed light on the development process of the tradition of realism in Asia. At the outset, realism was accepted as a representational technique, but after reflecting the historical reality of individual countries, the technique came to objectify each country’s particular situation and express its sentiments.

1

2


three-dimensional objects on the two-dimensional plane of the canvas. In this exhibition, the works of Asia’s first-generation oil painters, including Raja Ravi Varma (India), Raden Saleh (Indonesia), and Takahashi Yuichi (Japan), were introduced to viewers in Korea for the first time. Various artists integrated this imported technique with the existing painting traditions of their country. For example, Nguyen Gia Tri’s Landscape of Vietnam combines a Western-style landscape with Vietnam’s lacquer painting tradition. In Pai Un-Soung’s A Big Family, the traditional Korean painting technique of outlining (baengmyobeop) was adopted to create a family portrait.

The second and third themes focused on “The Rural” and “The Worker,” respectively. These seemingly related themes, however, were projected as diametrically opposite concepts in a number of works. For the rural theme, artists displayed their interpretations of the countryside, often involving a pastoral setting with idyllic images of Mother Earth. Meanwhile, the worker theme dealt with the miserable plight of workers and the lower class residing in the city.

In Rice Planting, Amorsolo of the Philippines depicted women who seem to be toiling in a field under an intense tropical sun. However, the painting portrays them as attractive women who seem to be engaged in an elegant dance rather than wearisome field work, for which the artist has been criticized for distorting the harsh reality endured by the com-mon people during colonial rule. In contrast, the works of other artists featured beggars, laborers, and lower-class people struggling in the city, which is represented as a source of high energy as well as human misery.

The Indonesian painter Shindudarsono Sudjojono has questioned his country’s tradition of beautiful landscape painting (Mooi Indie), while

1 Nguyen Gia Tri, Vietnam, Landscape of Vietnam, 1940

2 Pai Un-Soung, Korea, A Big Family, 1930-35

3 Fernando Amorsolo, Philippines, Rice Planting, 1924

4 Shindudarsono Sudjojono, Indonesia, Angklung Player, 1956 3

4


noting: “Painters do not run to the mountains in search of aesthetics, but expose the realties of city life. Bottles, pots and pans, shoes, offic-es, chairs, children, ladies, cities, dilapidated bridges, ditches, streets, and poor workers are their subjects.” In Asia, proletariat art thrived in the 1920s and 1930s as a form of grassroots support for the indepen-dence movement, and flourished again after World War II.

Social AwarenessThe fourth theme was “War and Realism.” In times of war, realis-

tic painting served as a readily available means of communication for reporting affairs and promoting propaganda. Realistic paintings were also used to describe the painful reality that most Asian nations expe-rienced after World War II and during their struggle for independence. Wartime art invariably assumes a particular political position in order to justify the attacker, defend the victim, or cry out for solidarity.

The final theme of “Social Commentary and Criticism” featured a new realism movement including Minjung Art (“People’s Art”) in Korea which arose in the 1970s, following the prevalence of expressionism during the 1950s and 1960s. Often undertaken by groups of student

activists, this new realism movement advocated social participation based on an aware-ness of the reality of society. Works influenced by this movement can convey a surrealistic sense, prompting the viewer to look directly at the almost unbelievable, yet actual, reality of the times.

By organizing the works into five themes, the exhibition helped to shed light on the development process of the tradition of realism in Asia. At the outset, realism was accept-

1 Lai Foong Moi, Malaysia, The Sun Sui Worker, 1967

2 Phan Ke An, Vietnam, Hanoi Christmas Bombing of 1972, 1985

1

2


ed as a representational technique, but after reflecting the historical reality of individual countries, the technique came to objectify each country’s particular situation and express its sentiments.

Courageous StruggleSimilar to realism, finding a definition for reality is equally difficult. In

fact, a truly objective view of reality might not be possible since it will be colored by an individual’s standing and attitude. In any case, this ques-tion has never left the minds of the Asian artists who lived through an age of ideological clashes, although some have managed to find their own answers. To judge the rightness or wrongness of their inclinations would be futile at this time. Of more importance is the need to explore the micro history of the artists of that time and to acknowledge the cou-rageousness of their personal struggle. It is this courage and struggle that imbue their works with the power to move viewers to carefully reflect upon the viewpoints of these artists.

During the 20th century, countries in Asia experienced similar his-torical difficulties, including colonization, two World Wars, struggle for independence, ideological conflict, economic development, and authori-tarian regimes. The “Realism in Asian Art” exhibition thus illustrated how the artists of these countries viewed and interpreted their domestic reality. The exhibition also revealed the similarities and differences of the shared experiences of Asian countries. In attract-ing more than 120,000 visitors, this exhibition proved to be a major success, which also provided a fresh outlook for Korean audiences, whose views of the outside world have too often been shaped by Western influences.

3 Shin Hak-chul, Korea, History of Modern Korea 4, 1982

4 Dede Eri Supria, Indonesia, Urban Class, 1977

3

4

DISCOVERING KOREA

At this year’s Vancouver Winter Olympics, where Korea’s Kim Yuna was crowned the queen of figure skating, Korean skaters surprised audiences worldwide by winning several medals in the speed skating and short track competition. As a result of the impressive performances by Korean athletes in various world sports events, Korea is becoming known as a sports powerhouse.

Hosaka Yuji Professor of Japanese Studies, Sejong University Ahn Hong-beom Photographer

hile attending high school, I learned through various media and books that many of Japan’s leading sports figures and show business celebrities were ethnic Koreans residing in Japan. After realizing that most of my favorite athletes, singers, and movie stars were Korean-

Japanese, I began to wonder if Koreans were more talented than Japanese, in regard to sports and entertainment.

Childhood MemoriesRikidozan, the legendary professional wrestler and Japanese hero in his time, whose real name

was Kim Sin-rak, along with the master of Kyokushin Karate, Masutatsu Oyama (Choi Bae-dal), the professional baseball player who was known as the “batting machine” Isao Harimoto (Jang Hun), and the legendary pitcher with 400 wins Masaichi Kaneda (Kim Kyung-Hong), were among the super heroes of my childhood. Jang Hun’s 3,085 hits was the record for the most hits in Japan’s profession-al baseball league for 28 years, until Ichiro, who now plays for the Seattle Mariners of major league baseball in the United States, finally surpassed it in 2009. Jang was also a power hitter with 504 career home runs. Kim Kyung-Hong’s record of 400 wins is still a record in Japanese baseball that might never be equaled, since the pitcher in second place lags far behind with only 313 wins. Another baseball player who ranks alongside the top-tier Korean-Japanese performers is Sadaharu Oh, a Taiwanese-Japanese (Wang Chen-chu). His record of 868 home runs might also be unreachable by today’s players in the Japanese league.

Korean-Japanese and Taiwanese-Japanese players possess much greater skill and power than Japanese players. The most popular Japanese baseball hero is Nagashima Shigeo, who has been named lifetime honorary coach of the Yomiuri Giants; however, his achievements are no match when compared to those of Jang Hun and Sadaharu Oh. Not only in baseball, but in soccer, volleyball and many other sports as well, Korean-Japanese are oftentimes the frontline players.

With few exceptions, this is also true in Japan’s entertainment sectors, which during my early years had been dominated by talented and beautiful Korean-Japanese singers and actors, who invariably enjoyed lengthy and distinguished professional careers. Therefore, as I grew older, I was shocked and infuriated to see that Korean-Japanese and Taiwanese-Japanese were often subjected to ill-treatment in Japan.

I remember attending a baseball game in which there was a scuffle among the players after a batter was hit by a pitch. Some of the spectators shouted at Jang Hun repeatedly: “Get away you Josenji!” [Josenji is a derogatory Japanese term for Koreans.] Seeing this in person, I became very upset. Not only because I have many Korean-Japanese friends but I also do not like to see people curse or treat someone with disrespect for no good reason. Fortunately, other spectators nearby admonished the ill-mannered fans, and demanded that they stop yelling such things. I was relieved that some people expressed a sense of decency.


Professor Hosaka Yuji of Sejong University. After studying at Tokyo University, he received a doctoral degree in Political Science from Korea University. Since becoming a Korean citizen in 2003, he has published several books about Korea’s sovereignty of Dokdo Island, based on historical maps and documents.

W

After Overcoming Its Past, Korea Can Now Stand Tall

But I have since encountered many such unconscionable inci-dents in the newspapers. For example, I once read that a player for the Yomiuri Giants referred to Sadaharu Oh, who was the team’s coach, as a wangkou, the Japanese expression for “son of a bitch.” The newspaper article reported that this player had blamed the team’s poor performance on Coach Oh: “Our poor showing is because of that cocky wangkou,” and “Everything’s the fault of that wangkou.” I was utterly dumfounded. I simply could not believe that a player would curse his own coach that way. And that player is now a baseball commentator! I fail to understand why the Yomiuri Giants or Japanese society did not discipline him for such disrespectful behavior. This was an incident when the hidden animosity of the Japanese toward people such as Oh came to the surface. I later came to criticize Japanese society for its unfair and discriminatory attacks on people of great talent and personality merely because they are from the ethnic groups of countries formerly colonized by Japan.

The Korean WaveMy childhood perception about Koreans being more talented

than Japanese, in sports and entertainment, now appears to be well founded, based on my observation of numerous occasions when Korea and Japan have competed against each other. More-over, this is even more evident today when Japanese discrimina-tion against people of foreign ethnicity is on the decline. Hallyu, or the Korean Wave, and sports matches between Korea and Japan serve to confirm this as well. The Korean Wave started with Japan’s entertainment scene, in terms of film, drama, and pop music. Since 2000, BoA and other Korean singers, as well as Bae Yong Joon and other actors and actresses, have been acclaimed as star performers in Japan. After an explosive burst of popular-ity, the Korean Wave now seems to be subsiding somewhat, and some have proclaimed it over. But, the Korean Wave has won over legions of faithful fans who maintain a keen interest in things Korean.

In recent years, Dong Bang Shin Gi, also known as TVXQ

(Tong Vfang Xien Qi), a Korean five-member boy band, and then earlier this year, Girls’ Generation, a nine-member girl group, have created quite a stir while capturing the fascination of Japan’s younger generations. Although TVXQ recently disbanded, their songs continue to enjoy widespread popularity, maintaining a high ranking on the Oricon Chart, Japan’s most reliable index for pop music. Girls’ Generation, which debuted in Japan this year, has been a huge hit as well, especially among teenage girls. Tradi-tionally, Japan’s young music fans have preferred female singers and actresses over male entertainers. As such, their attention is now focused on Girls’ Generation, a phenomenon similar to the previous sensation created by Korean actress Jeon Ji-hyun. Girls’ Generation has captivated the hearts of young Japanese girls, who greatly adore female celebrities. Whereas fans of the initial Kore-an Wave were mainly middle-aged housewives, TVXQ and Girls’ Generation have attracted a younger generation of followers.

Sports PowerhouseThis year, Korea’s emergence was also seen in the world of

sports. Since reaching the semifinals of the 2002 FIFA World Cup, Korean soccer teams have continued to maintain their elevated status in global competition. The men’s team reached the round of 16 at this year’s South Africa World Cup, while the women’s team placed third in this year’s U-20 women’s competition and then went on to capture the championship of the recent U-17 women’s competition. In comparison, the Japanese teams failed repeatedly in the final rounds due to their own mistakes, and I believe that there is a reason for this shortcoming.

As compared to only 60 high schools in Korea with a women’s soccer team, there are at least 1,400 in Japan. In the process of being selected for the national team, Japanese players might over exert themselves to a point of physical exhaustion. The situ-ation is similar for high school baseball. In Korea, about 60 high school teams vie every year in various baseball competitions, but in Japan, more than 4,500 high school teams participate in twice-a-year national contests. Such a broad infrastructure is a posi-

I can recall spending a sleepless night viewing the golf tournament in which Pak Se Ri waded into the water in order to hit her ball out of a water hazard. She went on to win a major championship, thereby opening the door for the “Pak Se Ri Brigade,” who have fol-lowed in her footsteps. If I am asked which side I support when Korea and Japan compete against each other, I attempt to be neutral; but in truth, I end up cheering for the Korean side because of its more talented players.


tive factor, in general, but the players can get worn out playing so many games. Pitchers, in particular, are known to ruin their careers in such intense high school competitions.

As for the World Baseball Classic (WBC), there is no appre-ciable difference in the individual capability of the Korean or Japa-nese players. In certain aspects, Korea has a rather disadvanta-geous environment, but it is still more advantageously positioned to win. Korea’s national baseball team captured the gold medal at the Beijing 2008 Olympics and came in second at the 2009 WBC.

Lim Chang-Yong, a star pitcher of the Japanese baseball league, has been one of the most effective pitchers in recent years. Moreover, the Japanese national baseball team includes several Korean-Japanese who are naturalized Japanese citizens. You could almost say that certain Korea-Japan matches are actually contests between Koreans and Korean-Japanese.

In 2010, Korea also stood proudly on the world stage in a vari-ety of sports. At this year’s Vancouver Winter Olympics, where Korea’s Kim Yuna was crowned the queen of figure skating, Kore-an skaters surprised audiences worldwide by winning several medals in the speed skating and short track competition. By con-trast, Japan did not win a single gold medal in any winter Olympic event. Because of the impressive performances by Korean ath-letes at several world sports events, Korea is becoming known as a sports powerhouse.

In golf, Koreans who play in the professional tours in Japan and the United States are invariably among the leaders in the final rounds. Both Koreans and Japanese golfers participate in the U.S. golf tour, but Korean golfers have made the deepest impression. I can recall spending a sleepless night viewing the golf tournament in which Pak Se Ri waded into the water in order to hit her ball out of a water hazard. She went on to win a major championship, thereby opening the door for the “Pak Se Ri Brigade,” who have followed in her footsteps. If I am asked which side I support when Korea and Japan compete against each other, I attempt to be neu-tral; but in truth, I end up cheering for the Korean side because of its more talented players.

Korea and Taiwan, two former colonies of Japan, and the island of Okinawa, which was previously taken over by Japan and remains under Tokyo’s control, have produced a number of individuals with exceptional talent, which well exceed that of Japa-nese within Japan. The world of today, in which the American pub-lic elects a black man as its president, is showing signs of moving beyond the racial discrimination that rightly belongs in the past. Overcoming its past, Korea has also begun to ascend to a lofty position among the international community.

For a more in-depth understanding of Korea, he also studies Korean literature.



1

hese days, Park Ji-Sung is the face of Korean soccer. Related to this, his transfer from the PSV Eindhoven Dutch team to Manchester Unit-ed in the summer of 2005, created a dilemma for the fans in Korea,

who hoped to watch live telecasts of his matches in the U.K. In particular, the time difference between Asia and Europe meant that Park’s matches would be broadcast during the late night hours in Korea. However, for Park’s grow-ing legion of soccer fans in Korea, this matter was simply a minor incon-venience. After all, there would surely be enough time to catch up on one night’s sleep the next day. In addition, there was the matter of groundless rumors that the prestigious Manchester United team had actually signed Park for his potential commercial value in the East Asian sports market. In this regard, Korean netizens took to the Internet to dismiss these unfounded views among global soccer fans.

Coach Ferguson’s AssessmentOne of the individuals who went out of his way to debunk this speculation was Sir Alex Ferguson, the legend-

ary coach of Manchester United. During an episode of the “England Premier League Round-up” program that aired in March 2010, it was revealed that the Euro Sports News as well as Sky Sports had selected Park Ji-Sung as one of the country’s top 11 midfielders. In an interview segment of this program, Ferguson stated that the decision to recruit Park had been based solely on his capability, and not the possibility for selling more team

jerseys in Korea. In a subsequent Associated Press article, Ferguson emphasized that Park’s com-mercial value had in no way factored into his team’s decision to sign the talented midfielder. He went on to explain that the team was impressed by Park’s proven ability, attitude, and intelligence. Ferguson noted: “The first thought that struck me, when I watched Park in the PSV Eindhoven’s semifinal match of the 2005 Champions League, was the extent to which he showed a remarkable understanding of the game.”

Ferguson’s assessment was nothing new for Korean soccer fans, who had already been aware of Park’s prowess. Born in 1981, Park Ji-Sung first took up soccer while attending Seryu Elemen-tary School in Suwon, Korea. Today, you can find a “Park Ji-Sung Ro” street in Suwon, while the Park Ji-Sung Soccer Center, where it is hoped that the future generation of Korean soccer stars


Soccer star Park Ji-Sung is already a legend in Asia. By joining Manchester United, he has filled the hearts of Korea’s sports fans with immense pride. These fans now expect Park, who has six years of experience in the Premier League, to showcase an even more aggressive style of play in the upcoming season. As such, Park is out to prove to his coach, Sir Alex Ferguson, and team that he is among the world’s most effective midfielders.

Jeong Yoonsoo Sports Columnist/Professor, Department of Media and Communication, Sungkonghoe University

ON THE GLOBAL STAGE

Soccer Star Park Ji-Sung Optimizes his Physical and Mental Ability

T

1 Park Ji-Sung maneuvers past John Pantsil, of Fulham FC, during a second round match of the English Premier League’s 2010-2011 season.

2 Park Ji-Sung, who was named captain of the Korean national team for the 2010 FIFA World Cup, repre-sented the team at a press confe-rence held at Nelson Mandela Bay Stadium.

2

will be developed, is currently under construction. Park made his debut with the Korean national soccer team in 2000, while he was attending Myongji University. The story about how he made his way onto the team is worthy of note. With Park being an “incom-plete canvas” at that time, he was overlooked by the professional teams and prestigious universities. But Huh Jung-Moo, who was then the coach of the national team for the 2000 Sydney Olym-pics, recognized Park’s potential. Although Park’s hardworking and competitive nature were clearly evident, Huh took note of his genius for breaking down the defense, which made him a primary candidate to be an offensive-minded midfielder.

Body and MindPeople marvel at Park Ji-Sung’s extraordinary stamina,

which is attributed to his “two hearts.” This expression is meant to highlight how he can routinely run all-out on the pitch for an entire 90 minutes, without even taking a break. A test conducted by the Korea Institute of Sports Science in February 2009, found that Park maintains a heartbeat of 40 beats per minute, which can only be compared to another Korean sports star, the mara-thoner Lee Bong-Ju. The heartbeat of ordinary people generally ranges between 60 to 80 beats per minute. As such, Park has been blessed with the physical capability to run around at full speed but without exhausting himself. In addition, his vital capacity (VC) has been estimated at more than 5,000cc, which also well exceeds that of an average person (3,000cc-4,000cc). Nevertheless, soccer is not simply a 100-meter sprint or a swim event. In soccer, a multitude of situations can arise in an instant, which cannot be dealt with by a physical response alone. For example, the success of a basic pass depends on making a connection with your teammate and avoiding the other team’s defenders, who are constantly maneuvering to place themselves in a more advantageous position.

Although Park possesses an ideal physique, with a height of 178 centimeters and a broad chest that measures 101 centime-ters, success in soccer requires well-honed skills and a lightning-quick mind to determine an offensive maneuver to capitalize on a defensive alignment. The Korean fans invariably shower Park with endless applause and praise, whenever he walks off the pitch while wearing the captain’s yellow armband, not only because of his physical talent, but also his exceptional ability to break down the other team’s defense, thanks to his creative insight of the game. Huh Jung-Moo, who selected the then little-known player as a member of the Korean national team some ten years ago, and Sir Alex Ferguson, who recruited Park to play for the world’s

most renowned soccer team five years ago, were both impressed with Park’s uncanny ability to threaten the defense with his offensive forays.

As a result of his outstanding play, Park Ji-Sung was recruited by a Japanese professional soccer club, the Kyoto Purple Sanga, in June 2000. He helped the team, which had been relegated to Divi-sion 2 of the J League, to return to Division 1 the next year. Shortly thereafter, Park experienced the exhilaration of making it all the way to the semifinals of the 2002 FIFA World Cup as a core member of the Korean national team. Around this time, Guus Hiddink, the coach of the Korean national team during its unprecedented run of success in the 2002 FIFA World Cup, persuaded Park to join the Dutch club, PSV Eindhoven.

The intimate bond between these two had been cemented during the shootout that determined the outcome of Korea’s quarterfinal match against Spain, which vaulted Korea into the semifinals of the 2002 FIFA World Cup. Prior to the sudden death shootout, Park told Hiddink that he was hesitant to be a penalty kicker because he had not taken many penalty kicks since his high school days. However, Hiddink responded by saying: “That is precisely why you should participate in this shootout. If you score, you will have a 100 percent success rate.” Energized by this chal-lenge, Park went on to score a pivotal goal.

The performance of Park and his PSV Eindhoven teammates during the 2005 UEFA Champions League has been regarded as one of the most memorable moments in Dutch soccer history. In the away match of its semifinal contest against AC Milan, PSV Eindhoven was defeated by a score of 2:0. As a result, PSV Eind-hoven needed nothing short of a miracle during the home match to make it through to the finals. Prior to this match, the legendary former soccer player and analyst Johan Cruyff predicted that if a miracle were to happen, it would come from the play of Park Ji-Sung. During the first half of that fateful match, Park proved that Johan Cruyff had a nose for bold predictions. Before the summer was through, Sir Alex Ferguson, who had watched this match, had made an offer to Park to join Manchester United.

Huh Jung-Moo, who selected the then little-known player as a member of the Korean national team some ten years ago, and Sir Alex Ferguson, who recruited Park to play for the world’s most renowned soccer team five years ago, were both impressed with Park’s uncanny ability to threaten the defense with his offensive forays.


Manchester UnitedPark Ji-Sung is an extraordinary player, who is known for

going all-out at all times. His hands are soft and elegant, much like a woman’s. However, his feet are so scarred and deformed that they might resemble those of a longtime construction labor-er. The images of Park’s feet, taken by photographer Jo Seon-hee and published in Elle Korea in November 2002, show that all his toenails are missing, while his metatarsal bone is misaligned. Moreover, the surface of his feet is covered with past and recent injuries, big and small. Although most professional soccer players come to experience a similar situation after years of competition, the images of Park’s feet vividly reminded Koreans of the tireless efforts and undaunted spirit required for his current success.

Park’s advancement from being an unknown player to becoming a key player for Manchester United is symbolic of Korea’s modern history, which has included the simultaneous achievement of economic development and democratization. Park’s story is reminiscent of Korea’s economic development, which started with the construction and heavy industries, and has since advanced to such high-tech sectors as IT and telecommu-nications. Moreover, it also brings attention to Korea’s process of democratization, which helped all of Korean society to realize its true potential.

In addition to being one of the front line players of Manchester United, Park also serves as captain of the Korean national team. Park’s proficiency at stifling an opponent’s offense and his relentless assault on the goal have created a situation in which

his defensive teammates might rarely catch a glimpse of face during a match. In the aftermath of the 2002 FIFA World Cup, the number of world-class soccer fields in Korea has been on a notable increase. Moreover, regional soccer centers have been established countrywide, while management of the professional leagues and the national team has been streamlined as well. Although various Korean players with a bright future have chosen to leave Korea for an opportunity to enhance their soccer career abroad (Park Chu-Young in Brazil and Ki Sung-Yong in Austra-lia), there are others, like Lee Chung-Yong, who gave up going to high school in order to pursue his career as professional soccer player.

Meanwhile, Korea’s Under-17 Women’s Soccer Team recent-ly captured the Under-17 Women’s FIFA World Cup championship for the first time. These are the emerging stars of the post-Park Ji-Sung generation. These individuals are Park’s successors, men and women, who have taken advantage of the expanded infra-structure and streamlined system now in place in Korea, along with being inspired by a perfect role model in Park Ji-Sung. In this regard, the positive influence of Park has been extended to seg-ments of Korean society that are well beyond the soccer field.


Park Ji-Sung scores a goal during the Korea-Greece match, the first Group B contest of the 2010 FIFA World Cup, at the Nelson Mandela Bay Stadium in Port Elizabeth.


ON THE ROAD

The island of Jejudo is home to three UNESCO sites: a Biosphere Reserve, a Natural Heritage site, and Global Geopark, a collection of nine sites, including Mt. Hallasan and Seongsan Ilchulbong (Sunrise Peak). Nowadays, Korean visitors are making their way to Jejudo to enjoy the island’s attractions on foot, strolling along a network of walking trails, which have been named olle (narrow path).

Kim Hyungyoon Essayist | Ahn Hong-beom Photograper

Leisurely Walking the Olle Trails of Jejudo


Leisurely Walking the Olle Trails of Jejudo

ith the onset of autumn, I took off on a three-day trip to Jejudo, for the purpose of leisurely touring the island on foot. There, I was greeted by a high sky of dazzling blue,

a clear sign of autumn’s arrival. But the sun was so hot that the rocks along the seaside gave off an intense heat. Still, this did not deter people from walking about the rock formations, of all shape and size. I found respite in the sea breeze that stroked my cheeks as it flowed by. The rhythm of the waves incessantly crashing onto the shore captivated me, while the ever-changing scenery of the seaside and the sky above seemed to place me under a spell. The allure of roaming around was overwhelming. Jejudo is Korea’s largest island and a still popular destination among Korean visi-tors. Located in the seas off the southern tip of the Korean Penin-sula, this oval-shaped island offers a variety of sights and leisure activities thanks to its unique geological origin as a volcanic island and its weather undergoing changes to sub-tropical climate. A new vista appears around every corner and a spirit of adventure is spurred on by the challenges that can emerge out of nowhere.

Background of Olle TrailsSince 2007, a local woman has taken on the task of developing

walking trails along the coastline of Jejudo. Most of them follow the paths that had long existed on this island, which Koreans call an “island of mystique,” but had since been abandoned, leaving them to be washed out by the sea currents or overgrown with brush. Together with her friends, Suh Myung Sook searched for the forgotten trails, while connecting together former segments and creating new paths to link nearby trails. Her inspiration for this endeavor came from the time when she walked from France to Camino Santiago, Spain, a month-long pilgrimage that left her with a longing for the smell of earth and the breezes of her Jejudo hometown. As soon as she returned to Korea, she gave up her work as a journalist and began a new life as the pioneer of walking trails.

Suh Myung Sook gave the name olle to the trails she helped to uncover. In Jejudo dialect, olle means “narrow path” or “alley-way.” With the help of friends, Suh first developed a 16-kilometer

W

Hikers coming down from Mt. Songaksan on olle trailNo. 10 are headed for Moseulpo Harbor.


1


trail, and another two courses shortly thereafter, with the three trails having a combined distance of 46 kilometers. In the follow-ing years, she continued to develop new trails which today include 22 courses, extending over 357 kilometers. The olle trails mainly follow the coastline. Sometimes a path will wind its way through villages, forests, and mountains, but it ultimately ends up where the land runs into the sea. While walking along the trails, people can be easily entranced by the ocean air’s distinctive scent and the natural rhythm of waves breaking against the shore, accompanied by the island’s ever-present winds.

On the first day, I walked 13 kilometers along part of trail No. 7, from Oedolgae to Gajeong Port. A rocky outcrop, which resulted from a volcanic eruption one million years ago that shaped the appearance of Jejudo Island, rises into the air like a support col-umn at the shoreline. Oedolgae is the name of this outcrop as well as the coastal area facing the pillar, which stands as a silent witness to the passage of time. The morning sunshine, which was already hot, amplified the heat rising up from the rocky coast; but, along with my fellow walkers, I was not prepared to give up. Indeed, my gaze was transfixed on the wondrous scenes sur-rounding me.

Camera ViewfinderI carried a camera during my trip. I had long worked as a

magazine editor, who greatly admired beautiful photographs, but I had never thought about creating these works of light by myself. I had always felt that handling a camera required a delicate touch, something beyond my ability. But when the digital age arrived and everyone began to carry a camera around, I felt I was up to the challenge as well. I was encouraged by the fact that the digi-tal camera was much simpler to use, with no need to handle any

film. Viewing things through the camera made the act of “looking” a more deliberate activity. It can make you look at things more carefully, like taking the time to chew your food well. My senses and sensibilities were awakened to the presence and influence of light. The light that fell on the scenes around me roused my emotions. This was the case even when there was no “light in the light.” I was quite pleased with these new experiences that had been made possible by the camera.

Along the southern coast of the island there are volcanic rock formations that look like sculptures created by natural forces. Known as jusangjeolli, these pillars of various shapes, includ-ing rectangular and hexagonal forms, are the result of a volcanic eruption that covered the area with molten lava, which produced the rock formations and a magnificent cliff side after it cooled off. Looking down on the cliff from a vantage point above, I was intrigued by the diversity of shapes that had me snapping the end-less scenes and images that appeared in my camera viewfinder.

As I lost myself in the efforts to capture the myriad images, time passed quickly and I realized I had not made much progress along the trail. In fact, I did not have enough time to make it to the shuttle bus waiting at the end of the course, since my dehydrated body was drained of energy and I could not pick up the pace. So I ended up leaving the trail behind and heading to the nearest vil-lage to catch a taxi. On Jejudo, no matter where you might find yourself, it is never a problem to make your way back to civiliza-

1 A 2-kilometer segment of olle trail No. 8 makes its way past sheer rock cliffs along the coast from Jungmun-dong, in Seogwipo, to Daepo-dong.

2 Trail No. 7 features a natural stone column, known as Woedolgae, which stands tall in the coastal waters.

2


tion. In other places, such as Tibet or Santiago, Spain, this might not be the case. For a Jejudo visitor, it is simply a matter of calling a taxi company and probably being picked up within 30 minutes or so, unless you happen to be trekking the upper slopes of Mt. Hal-lasan. Of course, Korean adventurers would scoff at this kind of convenience. But even the hardiest trekkers will find it difficult to resist the alluring trails of this volcanic island.

Hamel of the NetherlandsOn the second day, I started out on trail No. 10. Like the pre-

vious course, the trail followed along the southern coast, but this time from Hwasun Beach to Moseulpo Harbor. Although a coastal path, it also passes through an area with gentle hills and open plains. I stopped off for awhile at the Yongmeori (Dragon’s Head) area, an attractive stretch of coastline lying below Mt. San-bangsan. The name is derived from the landform that is said to resemble a dragon, holding its head high, as if about to rush into the sea; but, I could not clearly visualize the dragon. Instead, my attention was attracted to the steep sandstone cliff, with flat rocks below, and the frothy whitewater formed by the waves continu-ously breaking onto the rocky shoreline.

You can find a sailing vessel anchored near Yongmeori that does not navigate the seas. It serves as a memorial to Hendrik Hamel of the Netherlands, whose ship, De Sperwer (Sparrow Hawk), was shipwrecked off the southern coast of Jejudo on its way from Taiwan to Nagasaki, Japan in 1653. Of the 64 people on board, 35 survived by reaching Jejudo’s shore. Hamel and his crew were detained in Korea, where they were forced to perform hard labor. In 1666, he managed to escape to Japan with seven of his crew. From Nagasaki, he eventually returned to the Neth-erlands, where he wrote an account (Hamel Pyorugi) about the experiences of his 13 years in Korea. For the people of the Euro-

pean world, Hamel’s account provided an introduction to the pre-viously unknown land of Korea.

Along the olle trails, there are strands of blue and orange rib-bons at various intervals as well as arrows of the same colors. These are markers that designate the direction to be taken along the trail. Every now and then, you come across a kind of signboard in the shape of a small square above a larger rectangle supported by long legs painted blue. This symbol of the olle trails is said to represent the native Jeju horse. This figure, which I thought looked like a dog, is known as ganse, which means “laziness.”

Dreams of Miramar

When I was a young student, after school I would rush home to drop off my bag and then immediately head for the valley behind our village. I would scrounge around the rocks in the stream looking for crayfish or whatever. In spring, I picked aza-leas and cheerfully brought them home with me. One morning, after the rain had cleared, I came across a chestnut lying on the ground, shining in the sunlight. But in those days, my playing around had nothing to do with walking. As such, I would never think: “All right, I guess I’ll go out for a walk now.”

It was only when I was much older that I began to think of walking as an objective or to place any significance on this activ-ity. I acquired an interest in walking for the sake of exercise and its health benefits. Walking with such objectives in mind should

The olle trails mainly follow the coastline. Sometimes a path will wind its way through villages, forests, and mountains, but it ulti-mately ends up where the land runs into the sea. While walking along the trails, people can be easily entranced by the ocean air’s distinctive scent and the natural rhythm of waves breaking against the shore, accompanied by the island’s ever-present winds.

1 Vendors offer a variety of locally grown fruit, including pineapple, dragon fruit, and tangerine.

2 The Hamel Memorial Museum is a tribute to the Dutch captain Hendrik Hamel, who managed to reach Korea, after his ship was wrecked off the coast of Jejudo in 1653. After eventually returning home, he published an account that served to introduce Korea to readers in Europe.

1 2


not be regarded as ganse, an act of laziness. Walking purpose-fully invariably leads to a brisk pace. Walking slowly, or lazily, will produce minimal benefits, in terms of physical exercise. More-over, a brisk pace does not reduce the pleasure of walking. If you walk briskly, while concentrating on your bodily movement and swinging your arms freely, you can experience a pleasant sensa-tion. There is nothing lazy about walking with such a purposeful manner.

A long while ago, I read the book Beachcombing at Miramar. The author, Richard Bode, was a New Yorker who had led a hectic life as a newspaper and magazine editor. Then one day, he sud-denly took off for the West Coast of the United States. In his book, he says that he would always walk along the beach at Miramar. He spends his days combing through the sand for whatever he might find, not just for a week or even a month, but all year round. Truly, that would be the height of laziness. In Jejudo dialect, a lazy person is called ganse dari. As I read Bode’s book, I dreamed of

being a ganse dari myself someday, drifting along the beach to pick up seashells. This thought represents a return to my child-hood, a time when I scrounged around the rocks for crayfish, my homework assignments forgotten. But, I was fully aware that such a dream would not be so easy to attain. Still, while listen-ing to the sounds of the wind and waves, I schemed to remain on Jejudo for at least a month, so that I could drift aimlessly along its sands.

Low Mountains, Lush ValleysA road from trail No. 8 led away from the coast to the hills

where horses grazed freely on grassy plains, at the base of some-what higher mountains. In the middle of the island, covering an area of 1,850 square kilometers, Mt. Hallasan rises to a height of 1,950 meters, a relatively young volcano that was active about 25,000 years ago. During its active period, Mt. Hallasan produced about 360 parasite volcanoes that still can be found on the island.

3

A group of trekkers refresh themselves at Hwasun Beach, the end point of olle trail No. 9.


A prominent example is Mt. Songaksan along trail No. 10. Though it is only 104 meters in height, it has a deep crater at the top. I had been stopped by the crater three months earlier. Back then, I was there in the early morning when the mountain was shrouded in fog, which made me reluctant to approach the crater’s edge. From an especially deep valley, the fog emerged like clouds of volcanic ash. This time, the weather was clear, allowing me to view the crater from the summit. I noticed the reddish earth of the crater, as well as small trees growing among rocks. Still, I did not have the courage to get too close to the crater’s rim, which appeared to fall off sharply.

During my short time at the summit I came across several young people. There were also local police officers who patrolled the shores below the mountain and some women came from out of town with brightly colored backpacks, who looked like tiny wildflowers. The clear sunshine and prevailing wind served to enhance the beauty of these human beings. While descending the mountain, a gusty wind began to blow, causing the branches of trees to sway, while the grassy areas with small yellow and red flowers were being repeatedly bent over. Like the grassy areas, I allowed the wind to blow me to and fro, in whatever direction it

pleased. The road led to the plains below and then headed to the sea after passing a potato field. Out at sea, I could make out a long boat cruising along slowly, while the sun slipped into the horizon.

Saryeoni Sacred ForestOn the third day, I left the coast and headed inland to expe-

rience the island’s forests. For the past two days, I had spent some time with a junior high school teacher and her 13-year-old daughter from Seoul, who were having a vacation on the island. They told me that they planned to visit Saryeoni Forest the fol-lowing day. In my mind, the thought of the mother and daughter, who both liked to sing as they walked, roaming through the for-est seemed like a delightful experience, so I wanted to join them. The three of us caught a bus from Jeju Terminal that took us to Saryeoni Forest. The rather old and practically empty bus slowly passed through hills, villages, and farms. I was told that “Saryeo-ni” means “sacred forest.” It turned out to be a virgin natural for-est located some 500 meters above sea level, on the slopes of Mt. Hallasan.

The main road to the forest was concrete but the smaller branch roads were dirt paths covered with leaves. The concrete road was covered with red volcanic rock (scoria), which seemed to ease the bumpiness. A pleasant aroma emanated from the forest, which was dense packed with a variety of trees, including Konara oak, red-leaf hornbeam, Japanese snowbell, Kousa dogwood, Hinoki cypress, and Japanese cedar. Looking up at the sky from the darkness of the forest floor can give you a sense of dizziness and a desire to immerse yourself in the wonders of nature. Only slivers of sky were visible between the maze of high-reaching branches of the Japanese cedars.

While departing the forest after a three-hour walk, I wondered with regret about whether we should have walked a little slower. But it was time to fill our empty stomachs. For this, various con-venience facilities were clustered around the parking lot area near the entrance. Before leaving, I promised myself that the next time I returned to this sacred forest, I would take a more leisurely walk. I did not bother to ask, but it seemed like the mother and daughter had the same idea.

1 Trail No. 8 leads to upland areas where native Jejudo horses are allowed to graze. The Jejudo horse has been designated Natural Monument No. 347 for the protection of this breed.

2 Dolhareubang (“stone grandfather”) statues, unique symbols of Jejudo, are the main attraction at Jeju Stone Park.

3 Olle trail No. 10 winds its way along a picturesque cliff at the base of Mt. Songaksan.

1

2


CUISINE


The variety of colors and textures of tangpyeongchae served to sym-bolize the political harmony that Joseon King Yeongjo sought to achieve through the application of his Tangpyeong (Impartiality) Policy for the appointment of government officials.

Lee Jong-Im Director, Korea Food & Culture Research Center

Ahn Hong-beom Photographer

he tangpyeongchae dish is distinctive for the variety of colors, textures, and flavors of its ingredients, including soft muk (mung bean gelatin), savory beef, crunchy bean sprouts, aromatic dropwort, and soy sauce

seasoning. Once roasted laver (gim) and thin strips of fried egg yolk and egg white (jidan) have been added as a garnish, it is time to serve the dish. Tang-pyeongchae is ideal for anyone who seeks a well-balanced dish, and it can also be enjoyed with alcoholic beverages.

The word chae (菜, vegetable) is part of the name of several Korean dishes. In addition to tangpyeongchae, notable examples include japchae (stir-fried noodles with vegetables), juksunchae (seasoned bamboo shoots), and gyeojachae (cold cuts and fresh vegetables with a mustard sauce). These dishes combine various kinds of vegetables with beef or seafood. The process of slicing vegetables or fruit into thin slices is referred to as chaechida, which is applied to a majority of the ingredients used to prepare a chae-type dish.

Origin of Tangpyeongchae The Dongguk sesigi (東國歲時記) book, which was written during the

Joseon period (1392-1910), includes information about annual events and social customs as well as food-related traditions. Related to this, the ori-gin of tangpyeongchae has been attributed to the Tangpyeong (Impartiality) Policy that was adopted during the late-Joseon era. Joseon King Yeongjo is credited with implementing the Tangpyeong Policy, under which individuals were selected for government office based on their personal ability rather than their political affiliation, in an effort to

Cheongpomuk (mung bean gelatin) is a key ingredient of tangpyeongchae, which is known for its variety of colors and textures.

Tangpyeongchae A Colorful and Symbolic Dish

T

A delectable harmony is created between the variety of colors, textures, and flavors of the individual ingredients, which include soft muk (mung bean gelatin), savory stir-fried beef, crunchy bean sprouts, and aromatic dropwort, which are all enhanced with seasoned soy sauce. After adding strips of roasted laver and thin slices of fried egg yolk and egg white as a garnish, this dish of diverse textures and flavors is ready to be served and enjoyed.

promote harmony among his court advisors, which had frequently clashed due to the existence of political factions. Yeongjo’s successor, King Jeongjo, contin-ued this practice as well. The tangpyeongchae dish, which combines a variety of colors and textures such as cheongpomuk (mung bean gelatin), beef, bean sprouts, and dropwort, served to vividly symbolize the Tangpyeong Policy, which was administered in an effort to realize a state of coexistence among the four political factions that had been squabbling for the upper hand.

Muk GelatinMuk is a unique Korean food made from the

starch of mung bean, buckwheat, acorn, or corn, which is boiled in water and then allowed to cool into a kind of gelatin. Whereas cheongpomuk, which is made from mung bean starch, has a soft texture and translucent appearance, the memilmuk made from buckwheat starch has a savory taste. Dotorimuk, which is made from acorn starch, has a rather bitter taste, while oksusumuk, made with corn starch, has a silky texture much like that of a noodle. These types of muk can be cut into bite-size pieces and served with seasoned soy sauce, or combined with other ingredi-ents in various dishes.

In line with its seasonal availability, cheongpomuk was traditionally enjoyed in the spring, oksusumuk in summer, dotorimuk in autumn, and memilmuk in winter. However, these days, rather than making muk from scratch with fresh ingredients, people will store the basic ingredients needed for its preparation in powdered form so that it can be prepared year round. In addition, you can also purchase ready-made muk at the marketplace. As such, the notion of seasonal muk has little relevance these days. And in fact, pre-pared muk can also be purchased in Korean markets abroad. The following recipe assumes that ready-made cheongpomuk is available for the preparation of tangpyeongchae.

CheongpomukThe mung bean, an annual bean that belongs

to the pulse family, is similar to the red bean. Mung beans, which are small with a greenish hue, contain essential amino acids and high-quality unsaturated fatty acid. They are highly digestible, and recom-mended for people with high blood pressure, along with being helpful to recover from the effects of a hangover.

To prepare cheongpomuk, place five or six cups of water for each cup of mung bean starch into a pot


1 2

Tangpyeongchae

Ingredients

-250 grams cheongpomuk, 80 grams beef rump, 80 grams bean

sprouts, 100 grams dropwort, 1 sheet of laver (gim), ¼ of a red pep-

per, 1 egg, 1 teaspoon oil, salt

-Seasoning for muk: ½ teaspoon salt, ½ teaspoon sesame oil

-Seasoning sauce for beef: 2/3 tablespoon soy sauce, ½ tablespoon

sugar, 1 teaspoon chopped shallots, ½ tea-

spoon chopped garlic, ½ teaspoon

sesame salt, ½ teaspoon sesame

oil, pepper

-Vinegared soy sauce: 1

tablespoon soy sauce, 1

tablespoon vinegar, 1 table-

spoon sugar, 1 tablespoon

sesame salt

Preparation

1. Separate the egg yolk from

the white, fry each separately to

make thin sheets, and cut into thin

strips.

2. Cut cheongpomuk into pieces of 0.5 centimeters in width and 6-7

centimeters in length.

3. Parboil the cheongpomuk pieces in water. Remove from the water,

and coat with sesame oil and salt.

4. Slice the beef into thin strips and combine with the seasoning

sauce.

5. Sauté the sliced red pepper and seasoned beef in oil

6. Trim bean sprouts. Parboil in water with salt for two minutes, and

then rinse in water.

7. Slice the dropwort into 5-centimeter lengths. Parboil in water for 1

minute, and rinse

8. Break the sheet of roasted laver into pieces.

9. Place the cheongpomuk, beef, bean sprouts, dropwort, and red

pepper slices into a bowl, along with the vinegared soy sauce. Garnish

with the roasted laver and egg strips. Make extra vinegared soy sauce

available so that it can be used for additional seasoning.


and bring to a boil, while stirring with a wooden spoon. In order for the muk to attain a proper texture, you should continue to stir the mixture for an additional five minutes after the dissolved starch produces a clear liquid.

When the late Michael Jackson visited Korea some time ago, he is known to have highly praised bibimbap (rice combined with various vegetables). Nowadays, thanks to growing recognition of bibim-bap’s healthiness, it has come to be regarded as a representative food of Korea throughout the world. In certain regions of Korea, cheongpomuk is a basic ingredient for making bibimbap.

A delectable harmony is created between the variety of colors, textures, and flavors of the individual ingredients, which include soft muk (mung bean gela-tin), savory stir-fried beef, crunchy bean sprouts, and aromatic dropwort, which are all enhanced with sea-soned soy sauce. After adding strips of roasted laver (gim) and thin slices of fried egg yolk and egg white (jidan) as a garnish, this dish of diverse textures and flavors is ready to be served and enjoyed. A variation of the basic dish can be made by replacing the drop-wort with other greens, such as green pepper, celery, leek, cucumber, or zucchini.

1 Parboil dropwort in boiling water.

2 Stir fry the seasoned beef.

3 For convenience, the ingredients can be combined in a bowl beforehand.

3


LIVING

Screen Golf Takes Off in Korea“Screen golf” is a popular recreational trend in Korea. Due to the wallet-busting cost of a regular golf round in Korea, not to mention the difficulty of booking a tee-off time, ever more people are taking up this new, convenient virtual-sport, which can simulate play on a number of the world’s most renowned golf courses.

Chung Jewon Journalist, Joong Ang Daily

Ahn Hong-beom Photographer


ey boss, how about some screen golf tonight?” “Sounds good. We can go after the company dinner. Why don’t you make a reservation?” This kind of conversation among office people can often be heard in Korea these days. This phenomenon is the result of the fast-growing popularity of screen

golf. While the number of billiard halls and table tennis facilities, favorite haunts where Korean men had long spent their leisure time, has shown a downward trend, the emergence of screen golf facilities has seen a sharp increase.

Application of Technology“Screen golf” is a simulated form of golf played in a virtual reality. Simulation golf might be a more

accurate name, but it is known as screen golf because of how people play it: driving a golf ball into a screen with an image of the hole in play. The game was actually introduced in the early 1990s, through the application of video/simulation technology. But early on, the game did not appeal to amateur golfers because the crude technology at that time could not adequately replicate the actual golf experience. How-ever, since 2000, the advancement of simulation technology has transformed the game to such an extent that golfers now say that screen golf is almost like the real thing, which has led to a screen golf craze in Korea.

Shin Yong-hun, a 41-year-old employee of a state-invested enterprise, is a screen golf enthusiast who plays at least three or four rounds a month at a screen golf facility. According to him, “The greatest thing about screen golf is its affordable price. It cost $20 to $30 for a round of 18 holes. That’s about one-tenth the cost for a round of golf at a regular course. Moreover, you can usually find a facility nearby your home or workplace, so you don’t have to worry about spending time in traffic. If you play a round of golf on a weekend, you need at least ten hours, including travel time, but with screen golf you can complete a round of 18 holes in half that time.”

Shin has cut his play at regular golf courses from twice a month to once a month and he instead plays more rounds of screen golf. He even arranged to hold his high school alumni meetings at screen golf facilities. He considers this a much healthier alternative and also more enjoyable than meeting at a res-taurant or bar. At a screen golf facility, they can play in groups without needing to wait for any latecomers. For dinner, they can order a delivery of Chinese food or fried chicken, along with beer. He says that drink-ing beer while playing screen golf with old friends is a perfect way to alleviate stress.

“There are many obstacles to playing golf in Korea. The green fees are expensive, and the people who run the courses can often be overbearing. This is because there are so few golf courses as compared to the number of people who want to play. Players like me, who belong to the younger generation, don’t want to pay such high prices, only to be made to feel unwelcome. These circumstances have made screen golf highly popular. Unlike most golf courses, you don’t need to arrive in a suit or sports jacket. A golf course once did not allow me to play because I was wearing short pants. But nobody cares what you wear for screen golf. Best of all, you can enjoy the game at anytime, early morning or past midnight. Rain or snow makes no difference as well. You can hardly enjoy playing outside on a sweltering summer day or during the cold of winter, but you can always play screen golf. I enjoy playing screen golf for all these reasons.”

Screen Golf CultureThe screen golf phenomenon has created its own culture among amateur golfers. Businesspeople

will often take their lunch break at screen golf facilities, playing a round of six or nine holes, with the loser paying for lunch. The facilities located around office buildings in downtown Seoul now offer upgraded food menus in an effort to attract more lunchtime players. A recent practice for office workers is to have a sim-ple, ten-minute lunch of noodles or sandwiches and then play a round of six or nine holes before returning to the workplace. A set menu and beverage with a 6-hole round will cost about $15.

According to Kim Beom-su, a 37-year-old company employee: “In the past, golf was exclusively for the wealthy, but I can now enjoy golf as easily as playing billiards. You don’t need to bring anything because the

facility is equipped with clubs, gloves, and shoes. Until recently, golf was a sport that you would watch on TV, but now it’s a sport anyone can enjoy. Playing a round of six holes, with the loser buying lunch, doesn’t interfere

Virtual golf, which is known as “screen golf” in Korea, is a popular lunchtime activity for office workers.

H“


with your work or cost too much.”But even for screen golf, a reservation is necessary for

favored playing times. For example, in Yeouido, Korea’s “Wall Street” district, the golden hour is around seven in the evening. In fact, reservations for this time should be made at least one day in advance. The passion for screen golf also extends to the condo-minium and resort developments in other parts of the country. A screen golf facility equipped with three systems enjoys a thriving business at Haevichi Resort, which is located at Pyoseon-myeon, Seogwipo, on the vacation island of Jejudo. To play there on a weekend, a prior reservation is a must.

More recently, there has been a notable trend among facil-ity owners to upgrade their premises in order to appeal to and accommodate female customers. Younger men are undoubtedly the primary clientele of screen golf facilities, but the number of women players has been on the rise as well. Accordingly, facili-ties in downtown Seoul have come to include such amenities as beauty shops and nail salons. In line with these developments, women in their 40s and 50s are now holding alumni meetings and social gatherings at a screen golf facility, instead of a restaurant. They can play a round of 18 holes and then enjoy a massage at a health treatment facility within the premises. Kim Myeong-seon, a 46-year-old housewife, explains: “After a round of screen golf, I stop by at the nail shop to have my nails done. You can enjoy golf at a low price, spend time with friends, and even get a beauty treatment, so it’s like killing three birds with one stone.”

Accessible FacilitiesIn 2007, there were about 900 screen golf facilities in Korea,

but this number increased sharply to 3,000 in 2008, and to more than 5,000 in 2009. In 2010, some 6,000 facilities are doing a thriv-ing business throughout the country. Experts in the screen golf industry estimate that there are about 15,000 screen golf systems in operation today. But how many people enjoy playing screen golf? According to a Gallup Korea survey conducted in March this year, an estimated 960,000 people play screen golf.

However, according to an analysis by Golfzon, a leading busi-ness of the virtual-golf industry, it found the number of screen golf players to be much higher. Golfzon claims that the number of people who played screen golf was already 960,000 in 2008, and increased to some 1.27 million in 2009, a 32 percent growth within one year. It estimates that the number of players will exceed 1.72 million by the end of 2010. Moreover, based on its projections, the

number of screen golf players will exceed 20 million in the near future, which would outnumber the annual attendance for profes-sional baseball in Korea.

Meanwhile, the annual revenue of screen golf facilities is esti-mated at more than $600 million, based on green fees. When golf items and related expenditures are included, the annual revenue amounts to some $1 billion or so. Among current customers, there are distinctions by gender and age. Male and female cus-tomers account for a 74 percent and 26 percent share, respec-tively. In terms of age, those in their 40s are the most frequent players, at 40 percent, followed by those in their 30s (26 percent), in their 20s (16 percent), and in their 50s (14 percent).

Among those introduced to screen golf this year, 58 percent recorded an average score of more than 100 strokes for 18 holes, followed by 31 percent that averaged between 91 and 100 strokes. These figures indicate that most of the people who play screen golf are new to golf. Also worthy of note is the fact that 45 percent of those who responded to the Golfzon survey were equally inter-ested in playing on work days or weekends. A mere 14 percent said that they would only play on weekends or holidays.

Future of Screen GolfGolfzon, the leading maker of screen golf systems, organizes

and sponsors the Golfzon Light Tournament (GLT), a kind of monthly competition tour for screen golf players. This has even become a means for amateur golfers to gain recognition. Golfzon intends to expand this event so that it can eventually attract the participation of professional golfers. The tour organizers believe that if the prize money can be as attractive as that for regular golf tournaments, professionals would ultimately join in. They main-tain that, in another 10 or 20 years, golf tournaments will be held not only on real-life links but in virtual reality as well, and they foresee the possibility for a screen golf tournament to offer as much as $1 million in prize money.

Kim Young-chan, president of Golfzon, who forecasts some $20 billion in sales this year, is extremely bullish about the future of screen golf. He notes: “Through the remarkable development of video technology, golfers can now enjoy golf in virtual reality as if it were a real experience. Scotland might be where golf originat-ed, but one day Korea will be known as the country where screen golf originated. We will promote the culture of screen golf around the world.”

“The cost for a round of 18 holes at a screen golf facility is about one-tenth the cost of 18 holes at a regular golf course. If you play a round of golf on a weekend, you probably need at least ten hours, including travel time, whereas you can spend less than half that time if you play screen golf.”

koreana winter 2010 (english)

Documents

gyeyeongbae close

white porcelain gyeyeongbae

joseon period

life of drinking

joseon dynasty period

primary royal palace

ushaped tube

gwangju pottery works