Interview with Jin Okseop and Karjam plays music with Go Seokjin

May 18^th, 2011

I finally finished the article (but the editor sent it back with changes needed later in the day). Then I said good-bye to Kim who is off to America and rushed to KOUS to interview 진옥섭 Jin Okseop, the artistic director there and the guy who taught the 4 lectures on Korean dance that I attended a while back. I had dreaded the interview, because whenever I'd talked to him he'd been a bit arrogant and I especially disliked how he'd had the course at KOUS (in the spotlight, on stage, no questions and leaving backstage so he never talked to people). However after he finally had time (I sat around having had no breakfast or lunch for an hour before he got rid of a previous meeting) I discovered (surprisingly) that he was oddly shy. For the first 7 or 8 minutes of the interview I think he only looked at me three times. He basically looked at his hands (and fidgeted a bit) or the table, or the voice recorder, or out the window. It was clear that he was intimidated by me (I am NOT intimidating in Korean. I'm a bit direct (this is a cultural difference and my personality and more limited Korean makes me more direct than a smooth-tongued native speaker) but since I don't SOUND academic most people tend to dismiss me as being kind of cute or funky or whatever. I actually take advantage of this in interviews because I'm –not- imposing or scary so people are more likely to speak honestly without need to pump themselves or their importance and they see me as less of someone to be on guard with than a 'real' academic (a Korean who will publish in Korean in Korea) so they tend to be pretty up front.

Jin Okseop photo I found on the internet

As the interview went on I was surprised how sweet he was. He should be more like himself on stage and less like a stuffed yangban robe (I'd say stuffed shirt, but he wears hanbok, robe style). He started a Ph.D. and quit for some of the same reasons I'm frustrated by Korean academia and we bonded on that point. By the end (and I had to run, literally I sprinted for the bus) he was being super open and had a trillion things to say to me and I had come around on several points in which I had been critical of him and his management of KOUS. So it was a great interview, if shorter than I'd like.

Then I met up with Karjam at the 예술의 전당 Seoul Arts Center and we met 고석진 Go Seokjin (of 고성오광대 Goseong Ogwangdae and the 서울예술단 Seoul Performing Arts Company). Karjam and he jammed around and Seokjin is obviously going to work out REALLY well for Karjam's CD, except that he's expensive (more than I'd expected and he's giving us a good rate). He really will bring so much to the CD, though. I know a ton of percussionists. Heck I see percussionist all the time. My Bongsan Talchum teacher Kim Eunju is very well respected, the lead drummer for Songpa Sandae Noli Gang Cha-uk travels around accompanying people in concert. My sangmo teacher Yi Jonghui did percussion in university and does full time now— not to mention my various drummer friends from Gaejeonyeon and what not. But Seokjin (I describe his drumming in this post) is special and I know he'll make Karjam's CD special, too. 

Dongdaemun Market and KOUS

April 27^th, 2011

Karjam and I took mom to 동대문시장 Dongdaemun Market, Karjam bought her a modernized 한복 hanbok vest, it's really cool. We walked back along the 청계천 Cheonggyecheon, the awesome streamside park in central Seoul. Then in the evening I took mom to another performance, again dance at KOUS. It was so much less interesting than the previous week, but armed with her knitting (she hardly needs to ever look at it) mom stayed wide awake. I was struck by 진옥섭 Jin Okseop adopting a slightly more serious attitude, there were less jokes and more straightforward introductions to the pieces. Maybe he was just in a bad mood, I don't know.

The first piece, by 김진수 was really odd. First of all he was introduced as doing 봉산탈춤 Bongsan Talchum but when I had first seen the poster for the series I was with 김은주 (Bongsan Talchum isuja) who looked at the poster photo (looking pretty much like Bongsan Talchum) and stated "I have no idea who this guy is." Neither the costume nor the mask looked quite 'right' to me and the motions were pretty different. Afterwards I ran into 고석진 in the hallway and I asked who he had come to see (김진수 and 최종실) so I asked him where 김진수 had learned Bongsan Talchum. He leaned in close to me and said "you know there are two types, the official and the unofficial." I would have asked more questions but right then another friend of his tapped him on the other shoulder, and mom was waiting.

Several were entirely forgettable but then 이민아 performed 승무 seungmu and I felt that she was powerful and expressive. The best two acts, though, were the last 정 란 performed an exquisite 입춤 ipchum, she was very saucy, as though she was making love to the audience. And 최종실 Choi Jongshil, professor of percussion at 중앙대 Jungang University, was awesome. I intend to interview him before long, it just hasn't happened yet. He performed 소고춤 sogochum which is a lot more exciting than it sounds when you see someone do it really well! He would crouch and hit the sogo and the stick on the floor, as well as hit the sogo with the stick, it was very dynamic. All sorts of awesome turns and twists and perfectly timed hits on the sogo. I had met about 9 of his students on the subway, all freshmen. Their department takes 15 a year, and only one was not doing traditional percussion (she was doing Western drum set style). Two of those on the subway were doing 상모/소고 sangmo/sogo as their specialty.  

Bongsan Talchum Class, Changdeok Palace and Pansori!

April 25^th, 2011

I wanted to get some actual work done so before meeting 지수 Jisoo for lunch mom and I went to Starbucks so I could put my headphones on and just concentrate on my writing. Lunch was quite delicious. In the afternoon we did a little shopping for mom. Had dinner, left for class.

This isn't my photography, but it's good photography, has the credit for the photographer and  it shows a great norigae

Tonight I had 봉산탈춤 Bongsan Talchum and we arrived early enough to show mom the building a little bit, including the newly renovated shops on the first floor where the products made by the people in the system for the craft arts. There was a 10,000 dollar horsehair hat and other arts priced similarly. But they're all so beautiful, if I could afford a 1,500 dollar dangly 노리개 accessory for my hanbok I'd buy it! Class was a little odd because the performance (which so many class members are participating in) is Friday, and everyone was exhausted from rehearsals as well as their other duties. Almost everyone was late and no one had any energy for rehearsal. I did have a great talk with 김은주 Kim Eunju and박연식 Bak Yeonshik. I will be going with Yeonshik to observe him teaching classes (in public schools, teaching traditional performance skills and theory) on the 11^th. I'm looking forward to that.

The biggest thing that I noticed and stuck in my head as necessary to write here is the common practice of having the performers sell tickets to the shows they perform in. Of course this doesn't extend to many traditional performances, which are often free. However when it's a show that is being mounted by a group of performers, then they are all tasked to sell tickets—each person is given a stack and told to get their family and friends to come. I'm not saying this is unusual, but it does contribute to a situation where most performances happen in front of an audience that knows other audience members and at least one of the performers, and that happens for the traditional performances as well. It is so common that when I'm going to a show at KOUS if I want to talk to the people next to me a logical question is "Who did you come to see?"

April 26^th, 2011

We took mom to 창덕궁 Changdeokgung (Palace) and the Secret Garden (후원 or 비원 the former meaning more like back garden, the latter meaning secret garden). It was drizzling a bit, just like when we went to 경복궁 Gyeongbok Palace. Mmmmm…  Then we met my good friend 회정 Hoijung for lunch.

In the evening mom and I went to meet 경진 Gyeongjin (the last of my close Korean friends for mom to meet), Jan and Joji at 선릉역 Seollung Station and went to dinner together. After dinner we attended the performance of 안숙선 Ahn Sukseon (best best best singer in Korea and National Human Treasure for 가야금사조 및 병창 gayageum byeongchang), 정재만 (probably my favorite traditional dancer and National Human Treasure for 승무 seungmu) and 정철호 (a well known 판소리 pansori National Human Treasure). The presentation was sort of unusual. For one thing there was an MC, 오정해 Oh Jeonghae—she's a singer and a media "personality"—who was very active in the presentation. They had set up a raised seating platform with a table for tea and the performers sat there, behind whoever was presenting their stuff at that time, although with Ms. Oh. There was also a fair amount of conversation between each piece. I recorded it all, and might transcribe it, but basically they were trying to make people more comfortable with traditional culture, especially what they were seeing, and getting them some more education about it. 

Sangmo and a Performance at KOUS

April 19^th, 2011

We took care of some odds and ends including getting mom's business cards printed. In the evening mom went with me to 상모 sangmo practice. It was an unusual class because 이종휘 Yi Jonghui was out of town for a performance, so it was just 현석 Hyeonseok and me. Except when I arrived 은정 (도령) Eunjeong and 승민 Seungmin were there, along with a guy I don't know and a woman whose named I've never learned, though I've seen her a lot. A little later 유미 Yumi showed up, too. It was really good to see them. The reason they were there was to practice for the 계전연 Gaejeonyeon spring performance that will be held on the 30^th. Seungmin praised my improved sangmo, pointing out just how many people quit long before they get to the point I'm at.

Hyeonseok and I practiced more or less as we'd normally do with Jonghui there—moving through a logical series of motions, I didn’t do anything new, but I got a chance to practice until I was sweating.  

April 20^th, 2011

Karjam and mom went to the National Museum, I stayed home and worked on my computer. After making a nice dinner we all went to KOUS to see a performance.

The performance, another in the current dance series, was particularly attractive because 이윤석 Yi Yunseok, National Human Treasure for Goseong Ogwangdae, was performing 덧배기춤. It was a day when I knew half the audience, the entire regular crew from 봉천놀이마당 Bongcheon Noli Madang (about 10 people), plus 10 of the K-Arts students, plus 김성범 Kim Seongbeom and 허창열 Heo Changyeol as well as (performing a special 꽹과리 ggwaenggwari part during Yi's performance), 고석진 Go Seokjin. I had permission to take photos during Yi's piece (as long as I didn't take too many).

The entire performance was really amazingly good, one of the best I've seen and our front row (literally front row) seats were great for seeing every detail. Unfortunately mom (who always has a hard time sitting still during concerts and such) was falling asleep almost the entire show. That sort of distracted me because I need to feel the energy of the performance but I kept being worried that mom was missing out (and I took her so she could appreciate it, not take a nap). It was a great show, although I got a little pissed when we had to hear the announcing schtick stupid un-funny jokes. The 태평무 taepyeongmu by 강삼숙 was awesome, one of the best I've seen. And 이철진's 승무 seungmu was the best I've ever seen except for 정재만 Jeong Jaeman (who we're seeing next week!). 황지인's 입춤 ipchum  was really good. The 소고춤 sogochum by 임은주 from 봉산탈춤 Bongsan Talchum (she's an이수자 isuja) was exuberant, very fast-paced and fun but somehow I'd been expecting something more. 김선정's 살풀이 salpuri was disappointing, I've seen the dance too many times and it has to be done really well to wow me. There was no special flavor to it. Next was Yi Yunseok's performance, but he was exhausted from the performing trip to Malaysia and it showed. We all screamed really loudly but for someone who didn't know him and have a connection I wonder how it would have seen. I was really pissed when 진옥섭 Jin Okseop came out after his performance and said "I think he forgot the last half of the dance and just repeated the first half." You don't say that, even if it might be true! Next was 양길순's 도살풀이 do salpuri. Karjam and I saw her last year and thought she was great, this time I wasn't quite as impressed. Last was 문근성 who performed 설장구 seoljanggu (dancing with the janggu drum) very very very well. It was a great end to the show.

After the show I talked with Go Seokjin, Changyeol, Yi Yunseok, some of the Bongcheon Noli Madang people and the kids. Finally the performers left and we bowed their van away before dispersing. 

Gyeongbok Palace and the National Folk Museum

April 18^th, 2011

The important thing was that we went to 경복궁 Gyeongbokgung. Because we had to take Karjam's computer to the service center I somehow convinced myself we could go to the palace at 1 instead of 12. That was silly, because we rushed a lot. At least it meant we spent less time outside in the on-off drizzling rain.

At 1:00 we took photos/video of the changing of the guards, which fortunately they decided to do despite the weather. I didn’t get anything earth-shattering as it was too wet to change my lens and I had the wrong one on the camera. Oh well. Next we cruised through most of Gyeongbok Palace, with a significant stop for me to take photos of Karjam that I hope will be good enough for the next CD. Yes, we're really hoping to record another CD soon, so keep your eyes peeled for it! He looked really handsome but he gets so self-conscious when I train the camera on him, it's so frustrating. Why can't someone as handsome as him be confident and flirtatious with the lens?  We went to the National Folk Museum which mom enjoyed but I know I didn't give her enough time there, which is stupid, because it's my favorite museum.

We had to leave after only 75 minutes because I had made us a reservation for the 4:00 opening of 경희루 Gyeongheenu. That is the giant open-walled building located in the pond at the palace. Since the beginning of April sometime for the first time in years they are opening it to guests, if you make reservations (the system ONLY works in Korean and you have to have a Korean gov't issued ID number so since I don't have one I had to call and make them work around the system). They have 3 times per day that you can go in, and each time they limit the number of guests. I was pretty confident that even if we were 20 minutes late it'd be okay, but it's good we were on time. It was only our group and another group of three that had reservations and as soon as we entered they locked the gate! The tour guide told us we had only 30 minutes and we had to follow her and listen to her for 20. She spoke in fast Korean on the geomantic positioning of the building, the philosophy behind the color choices on the roof, the mechanics of cooling the building on hot Korean summers, the activities that took place there and many other similar topics. Of course I couldn’t translate at her speed, esp. not into easy English for Karjam, not without losing track of what she was saying. Then she complained that I'd only come to take photos and wasn't listening! Uhhh… I can listen and take photos. So I explained that I certainly couldn’t translate into both English and Chinese in the tiny breaks between her sentences and that she was using advanced vocabulary that even if I understand it in Korean is hard for me to formulate into an English sentence while continuing to listen… and it turned out she could speak Chinese so she talked to Karjam during the free 10 minutes at the end when we were supposed to take photos. Unfortunately there was wire covering the upper story windows to keep birds from roosting and pooping everywhere. It was so awesome to be there, though. Wire or not I think I got some interesting shots. It was so cool, it felt very exclusive to be there with only 6 other people and the view across to the Blue House, across the palace, down on the pond, out towards 광화문 Gwanghwamun, etc. was awesome. Incidentally Gwanghwamun's sign board which infamously cracked right after the renovation was complete, is being repaired.

This is Gyeongheenu

Looking out from inside Gyeongheenu

The sad factor with the wire over the windows is that photos like this have obvious wire patterns...

Inside roof!

Mom and I took the bus and I ate Thai food with her at Buddha's Belly, then took the bus to class at KOUS, which Karjam went to pick up his computer (new fan, new DVD player something or other, less than 4 hours, about 100 USD at the HP service center—freaking LOVE Korea).

The final 진옥섭 Jin Okseop class was pretty good, the last thirty minutes anyway, but it ended earlier. Oh, I was given a CD for having perfect attendance. The CD is awesome, it's a collection of really old recordings curated by 배연형 Bae Yeonhyeong. It's amazing (listening as I type). Truly amazing to hear these voices off scratchy recordings from the 1920s and even before. I didn't take my computer to class as I would have had to carry it around all day, instead I just scribbled in my notebook. I got some fairly good quotes from him, but it's nearly impossible for me to hand-write and translate all but proper nouns and listen. That's why I really need to be typing my notes. Even with the extra key strokes to hit the toggle between Korean and English, I can still keep up with most of what he's saying. 

At Korean National University of the Arts with Professor Choi Changju

April 10^th, 2011

Wasted day. More or less.

April 11^th, 2011

I had an amazingly thick research day.

I woke up and got going early, so worried I'd be late to meet 최창주 Choi Changju that I got off the subway by K-Arts almost an entire hour early. Choi is a 전수교육조교 jeonsu gyoyuk jogyo for 봉산탈춤Bongsan Talchum and is also a professor (in the 연희학과 Traditional Theatre Department of the School of the Traditional Arts) who teaches Bongsan Talchum and Korean dance and I gather also some arts marketing type courses, at least from time to time.

This is my second time to interview Choi formally. He'd offered for me to come and watch his class, and told me to meet him in the classroom at 11. It turned out the class started at 10, I guess he just didn't want me to sit through the whole thing, and he knew the first hour would be practicing 서도소리 Seodo Sori (songs in the style of the west coast, which generally means west coast –north- of Seoul in present day North Korea). There is a whole section of Bongsan Talchum with a long (and in my mind very awesome) group singing scene. For the performance in May the students will sing it, of course, as part of the Bongsan Talchum performance. The class included my Wonjung, Gaeun, Heesu and it would have included Inseon except she was sick. 김미애 Kim Miae, an 이수자 isuja was teaching the seodo sori. After Kim finished her section of the class and Choi introduced me to the students they took a break (this was just a few minutes after I arrived). I was able to talk to Gaeun and Heesu a little and learned, for example, that all the students will participate in the Bongsan Talchum singing section as well as several other parts, but that during class the 9 students who are featured in the performance's parts are practiced repeatedly.

Wonjung in the slate gray shirt (Heesu in the tie-dyed pants)

Choi and Kim leading class

This room was huge. I couldn't bounce the flash off the ceiling,  obviously.

Nojang is brought on stage by the 8 monks

They began with the basic motions, which they ran through twice. Choi ordered Wonjung to the center front and frequently throughout performance referred the other students to him. Then I got to watch the rehearsal, which was of Act 2: Dark Face Monks and Act 4: Nojang (Old Monk)'s Dance (except not his part just the part of the 8 other monks) and I was surprised how differently things were done. First of all the daesa monologues were different, including daesa inserted into the middle of the solo dance. Actually most of the same daesa were present, but sometimes longer and often moved around to another monk. Also the solo dances were usually longer. And the Old Monk's act included 4 of the monks grabbing the 4 pungmul instruments and playing, something Choi told the class that the Preservation Association can't do because they just don't have that level of pungmul skills. However all of these differences are present in the version of the script that Choi was using for the performance, a version he says hasn't been performed in a long time. During all of this (most parts were taken multiple times with Choi correcting in various ways) the students like Heesu and Gaeun were just sitting around pretty bored. That's when smart phones are handy. Kim drummed for all of this. I took a few photos.

After class I went to lunch with Choi, Kim and Wonjung at the cafeteria, it was only serving one main dish, thankfully it was a vegetarian option. We said good-bye to Kim then I interviewed Choi in his office (Wonjung went to class). At 3 I followed Choi to his next class, teaching 4^th year dance majors (all women). He was teaching them 사상좌 sasangjwa and the part of the 1^st of the eight monks to them. Which was interesting, as I've never seen that part taught. At any rate, they definitely danced like dance majors (as in, they made it all pretty, which it's not). I had to leave after an hour.

In the evening I went to KOUS for the third of 진옥섭 Jin Okseop's classes. I was in a bad mood from the time it started because someone asked the nice woman who checks attendance to come over and ask me to type my notes quieter. I am sitting on the far right of the theatre. Anyone could sit in the center section or even the left section (Jin even hangs out on the left side of the stage) and not hear a thing. Besides I have been very considerate and closed it every time the theatre is darkened or whatever, the previous week that was all but perhaps 25 minutes, so seriously, you want to complain that someone is taking notes? This despite the people who send text messages with the button noise on (beep beep beep) or even have their phones ring (not on vibrate) during class. This apparently is just fine. Students taking notes in a class, though, is highly disturbing.

In addition the class was lame. Jin showed a lot of really awesome incredibly old video clips I've never seen before (though I had heard of some of them). I would love to have a copy of all of them, and I will ask him later, maybe he'll share. Much of the content was on the mask dance dramas. But he spent the whole class on a series of tangents, where he never had to go into depth about any one subject instead he just made assertions, brought up a random supporting fact (that may not have been supporting if he went into depth). It showed his breadth of knowledge but no depth at all, and frustrated me to no end. I mean, with a scattering of misinterpreted facts –anyone- can appear to be making sense with data and research behind their statements. If that wasn't true, FOX would sound as stupid as it actually is to all the listeners. As it is, only people with more depth of knowledge are able to see exactly how stupid they are. So there I was sitting in the audience wanting to raise my hand and say "wait a second, in my conversations with Professor Choi Changju about Bongsan Talchum history earlier today he said… " or "but if you look at that another way…" or whatever but the format is this total one-way format where Jin is on the stage and we are in the audience, quiet as mice, except for evil things like typing computer keys of course. When class ended I was almost fuming. 

Dissertation Excerpt: Age and Performance

Watching performances in Korea over many years, and being familiar with the CPPL [Cultural Property Protection Law] system I have long accepted that the performers will frequently be quite elderly. When I returned to Korea for my year of dissertation field research I was lucky to be supported by the Fulbright-Hays Fellowship which offers a spousal stipend. My husband, a Tibetan performing artist, was therefore frequently dragged along to performances as my escort and as a cameraman. Because my research focuses on transmission of performing arts knowledge by individuals who are within the CPPL system, I rarely go to see shows by energetic twenty-somethings. In large group performances, such as mask dance dramas and pungmul, the performers have a large age range, but I can only think of three shows in the past year that did not include performers past forty and all three were outside the CPPL system but headlined by young performers from inside the system. In all these shows Karjam's largest and enduring criticism has been related to the age of the performers: how younger (and he sometimes also mentioned more beautiful/handsome) performers would have presented a much "better" performance.

            It is true that in high level dance companies around the world the leading performers are often fairly young: in the case of ballet it is infamous how early the careers of the dancers peak. When I picture older performers in the West, my mental rolodex supplies orchestra conductors, the occasional classical music soloist and opera singers; yet it is safe to say that all of these individuals intend to retire leaving their reputation for strong performances intact. East Asia with a foundational respect for age and experience, not to mention the teachings of Confucius, places more elderly people in the limelight in all sectors of society. In Korea the oldest and most experienced performer, often a National Human Treasure, will frequently be the star – drawing the audience, providing the focus for media coverage and receiving adoring standing ovations.

            I have seen performances by dancers so infirm I was afraid that when the choreography required them to kneel down they would not be able to rise again at the proscribed place in the music. Performances by dancers who pushed themselves off the stage floor using the hand drums and drum sticks they had knelt down to retrieve. Performances by dancers who have lost their balance and so quiver and sway as they stand on one foot. Performances by dancers whose hands were visibly shaking. Performances by dancers who walk out with a cane and pick it back up as soon as they've taken their bow for the walk off the stage. Performances by dancers who are led onto stage and helped off again at the end. Performances by dancers who had obviously abridged a dance in order to last through to the end of the performance. I even saw a performance by a dancer so beset by osteoporosis that she was bent over with a huge hump on her back. Sometimes an entire evening with seven to nine dances each between ten and fifteen minutes in length will be performed by dancers with an average age in the high seventies. I love these performances. In most of these cases I felt the dances were richer, deeper and more meaningful; I have been moved to tears. Yet there is no denying that a forty or fifty year old could have executed salpuri, seungmu or taepyeongmu after twenty-five or thirty years of training with the same technical proficiency and hopefully just as much emotional complexity as their elderly teacher: but with perfect balance and a straight back.

            What about Korea encourages the performance of elderly dancers?  I see three interlocking reasons for staging the elderly. First, there is the desire of the audience for the authentic, for the person trained in the village who is the embodied connection with a near-mythical past that has been lost in the urbanized modern age. Watching the performer who physically holds the 'old' knowledge and 'old' ways may be more rewarding (emotionally) than watching the young and beautiful dancer who after even two or three years of practice should  theoretically be able to perform the dance well. Second, there may be something about the aesthetic of specific Korean dances which cannot be successfully communicated by a lithe young dancer. Dances such as salpuri, the solo of Mundung in Goseong Ogwangdae or almost any of the old monk characters in the various mask dance dramas require a certain degree of heaviness or sorrow to be infused with the motions (c.f. Loken-Kim and Crump 1993, Loken-Kim 1983, Jeong BH 1997). This can be particularly hard for young dancers, although it is not impossible. If an audience expects flexibility, swiftness, precision and grace these older dancers may not perform as "beautifully" as younger dancers, but for an audience who expects the appropriate Korean aesthetic the performance of a weathered grandmother may be superior to that of a twenty-two year-old dance-college graduate with a Miss Korea face. Third the CPPL system itself may play a role here. By labeling a performer a National Human Treasure their performance has been given an added value, they are more of a "star," or a "brand" than the performers who have not yet attained this rank. Even though a National Human Treasure may be past their peak, even though their performance may be less captivating than it was five, ten or twenty years ago, the legitimizing effect of the law is strong. In addition within their group they are accorded the respect due their ability, knowledge, age and rank. This means that often they have right of first refusal on an opportunity to dance. Since the CPPL requires the National Human Treasure to perform, a performance opportunity may seem more like an obligation. If the performer too often declines performance opportunities they should retire to the sidelines and become an Honorary National Human Treasure (the non-stipended designation for former National Human Treasures who are too infirm to continue their activities). In some cases this may be a financially difficult decision to make, in other cases stubborn pride or a desire for the limelight may interfere. In practice Honorary National Human Treasures are almost always no longer physically able to leave their homes or a health-care facility. Talking with Imshil Pilbong Nongak isuja Yi Jonghui he agreed with my arguments but also said "I think they continue to perform because they want to. They still have the desire for the stage."[1] In a society and in front of an audience that accepts the performances of the elderly, there is nothing stopping them.[2]

            Obviously I have just laid out the active involvement in performance of elderly dancers, but what about the musicians? Do they push it so far? While watching a performance with Yu Sejeong, a daegeum player currently working on a MA in traditional music theory at the Korean National University of the Arts, I leaned over and asked her if musicians who now shake and quiver continue to perform.[3] Sejeong answered "When someone watches an old dancer it's obvious the dancer is old, and people are impressed that they can dance despite the physical difficulty. For the old musicians it isn't so obvious that they're old, it just starts to sound bad. The musicians retire when they feel they cannot perform at a high level anymore."  Racking my mental images of Korean performances I have seen, I only uncovered one case of a musician who was now shaking but as of fall 2010 still performing. Hwang Yongju, the National Human Treasure from Seonsori Santaryeong, dances and sings while beating the janggu. He is still leading his group despite his thinning voice and shaking hands, but he is also visibly old, not like the seated soloist or musician in the imagined ensemble in Sejeong's example. In some ways Hwang is the figurehead and mascot for the group while younger members take over a more substantial degree of the drumming and singing in each of the Seonsori Santaryeong performances I have seen in 2008, 2009 and 2010. Heo Juri, a gayageum player, had a similar opinion, pointing out that a few elderly performers continue into their seventies, but that it's unusual and only in the instruments that do not require an intense level of physical exertion.[4]

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[1] Personal conversation, April 5^th, 2011 at the Imshil Pilbong Nongak Seoul Training Center.

[2] Korea is not the only location in which the performances of elderly artists are highly valued. The day I finished writing this article the International Herald Tribune (the international edition of the New York Times) ran an article about Tsuyako Ito, an 84-year-old Japanese geisha, the last one in the tsunami stricken town of Kamaishi who was preparing for a performance at the time that the tsunami struck, but had to be carried to higher ground by an admirer.

[3] Personal conversation, April 4^th, 2011 at KOUS.

[4] Personal conversation, April 5^th, 2011 at the Imshil Pilbong Nongak Seoul Training Center.

Jin Okseop Lecture on Korean Dance (#2)

April 3^rd, 2011

I worked on the computer all day, for a few hours at Chans Bros, the rest of the day at home.

April 4^th, 2011

Stopped by Yonsei campus and printed chapter 2 of my dissertation so I can look at it on paper for once. It's about 90 pages long, in three separate files right now. I hope I can clarify and edit it well enough to share soon. I was in the neighborhood so that I could meet my friend 회정 Hoijung to help her with a presentation she doesn't actually need my help with, but perhaps prep goes faster with my company!

After the meeting with Hoijung I decided I didn't have enough time to hurry home and then hurry to KOUS so I went directly there and talked with one of the workers there to get some background info on their operations before I talk to 진옥섭 Jin Okseop directly. Today class was much better because I had a small epiphany, talking with 세정 Sejeong helped me to develop another idea I've been thinking through and because Jin Okseop made a point that is really important. In fact Jin only talked for about fifteen minutes then showed a video that was at least an hour long.

1) Jin's important point: In Korean dance in the past, like the dance that was most commonly trained in the art's academies for 기생 gisaeng called 권범 gwonbeom, it was common to see fairly large groups of artists put on stage at once, after they'd trained together extensively and could match movements to each other well. But in the modern era when it's so hard to get a group of people together, or get them together often enough to dance as one, these types of dances rapidly lost members and were adjusted to become solo dances. In addition the solo dances became more popular and commonly performed.

2) Talking with Sejeong: it is common to see really old dancers put on stage. In the video we saw a woman with osteoporosis so bad that she had a huge hump in her back. We also saw people who were shaking as they danced and a guy who's balance had in large part deserted him. But Sejeong confirmed that we don't see musicians of similar age on stage. I asked her why not since obviously with an instrument like 가야금 gayageum or 해금 haegeum there shouldn't be much physical limitation on it. She said that the audience forgives the old dancers for shaking but they can't tell the age of the old musicians or tell if they are shaking when their tone is affected, so the musicians won't do go on stage once their performance is compromised.

3) My own small epiphany relates to the ongoing analysis of the age of dancers on the Korean stage and it may actually be something I've figured out before, I was just figuring it out again in more depth and scribbling in the dark. In brief: in addition to the other many reasons to watch an old dancer or for an old dancer to go on stage, there is the desire of the audience for the authentic –folk- dance, for the person trained in the village who is the embodied connection with a near mythical past that they've mostly lost in the modern age, and that watching that person who physically holds the 'old' knowledge and 'old' ways may be more rewarding (emotionally) than watching the young and beautiful dancer who after 5 or 10 years of practice should –theoretically- be able to do what the old dancer can do. 

Comments welcome, of course.

And, super cool thing, 장사익 Jang Sa'ik (one of my favorite singers) was sitting directly behind me in class today. I gave him a bow big enough to acknowledge him but not intrusive enough that he'd have to engage me in conversation. At first (since his knees literally were 3 inches behind my seat) I was a bit distracted that he was there, but having 안대천 Ahn Daecheon on one side of me and Sejeong on the other, I got over it. 

Performances at KOUS

March 30^th, 2011

We sent Hengyi Shr and her mother back to Taiwan, or at least to the airport, on a bus departing at 5:50 this morning.

Met Jisoo for more hashing over the meaning of the last bit of the translation, and we took these cell phone photos to show our work scene.

I convinced home-body Karjam to go to a dance performance at KOUS, and when I was in the hallway waiting for the show one of the workers introduced 진옥섭 Jin Okseop to me, I got his card and an agreement to do an interview later. That's awesome. But even in the short conversation he insisted that no one knew more than he did about the topic of my dissertation. Which is a sort of arrogant thing to say. Dude, I already asked to interview you, obviously I think you know enough to be worth an interview and you can talk about it at length during the interview. I was also sort of surprised how short he is. I've only talked to him in person one time before (in October) and I'd forgotten that I am a good 7 inches taller.

The performance was pretty good. We had the "bad" seats, which are still fabulous because KOUS is such a small intimate hall. I took a few photos during the show, too. Karjam's favorite performance was that of the 살풀이 salpuri dancer 이문이Yi Munyi. I also thought Yi was very good, my favorite (unexpectedly) was 고재현Go Jaehyeon who performed 입춤 Ipchum. I was also impressed by 강은영 Gang Eunyeong, the 진도북춤 Jindobukchum dancer who I'd most wanted to see in the evening's line-up. Karjam claimed that the way she danced and the way I dance are very similar. Most of the other performances were good, but I felt that the performance of 승무 seungmu by ChaeSangmok and 한량무 hallyangmu by Choi Taeseon were of a lesser quality- ironically the only two performances by men in the evenings 8 dancer line-up. 

Sogo Chum

Salpuri

Ipchum

Jindo Bukchum

Ta-ak Project at KOUS

December 29th, 2010
Wednesday was less insanely snowy/icy and cold than the day before, but I didn't do a whole lot since it's my normal day off, except we went to watch "The Next Three Days" in the movie theatre. Solid movie. I wanted to watch "Tron: Legacy" but couldn't convince Karjam—at least his choice was good.


December 30th, 2010
I had my rescheduled 상모 sangmo class from two p.m. until almost four. 이종휘 Yi Jonghui was awake all night driving back from snowboarding so he was a bit tired, but class was good. We have a new member, 광호 Gwangho, who has already learned more than I have (but not as much as 현석 Hyeonseok). Class went pretty well, and Jonghui and I talked a lot about his performance (he was embarrassed with some mistakes that were hardly noticeable) and we discussed general arts politics. I need to formally interview him, however. Hopefully I'll be able to do a week of sangmo class the same week he'll be teaching at 필봉 Pilbong.




I went home and made a quick dinner, Karjam was nowhere to be seen, before I headed to KOUS for another show, this time that of the 타악프로젝트 Ta'ak (percussion) Project. The Ta'ak Project is basically just 고석진 Go Seokjin and 최영진 Choi Yeongjin. Seokjin is in 고성오광대Goseong Ogwangdae and Yeongjin is in 봉산탈춤Bongsan Talchum, so I know them both. I went to the performance with the 봉천놀이마당 Bongcheon Noli Madang people (are you starting to see how interconnected all these traditional arts are?), and after the performance two of them (and I) went to the after-party to congratulate the artists on finishing their three performance run. I won't say more about the performance right now because I'm working on a whole long review of it, but I'll just paste in this one paragraph—please comment!

To see the scissors performed in the high-status KOUS hall has an extra cultural dimension for the Korean audience. Scissors, in Korea, were traditionally rhythmically clacked together by street salesmen of handmade taffy and nut brittles. These salesmen would sing as they manipulated the scissors in a showy but utilitarian way to cut and break up large chunks of taffy. The playing of scissors has never been known to be virtuosic, and is often associated with beggars, cross-dressers and other examples of the lowest rung of Korean traditional society. Go's scissors performance was virtuosic. Trained as a drummer and dancer for the mask dance drama Goseong Ogwangdae Go utilized the entire stage opening and closing the scissors and hitting the left and right hand scissors together in a fast and complicated rhythm. Pivots and leaps are followed by quick steps adapted from pungmul and Goseong Ogwangdae, in his white dress shirt, black dress pants and silver and black silk vest I realize that this is an appropriation of the lowest of Korean art forms, recreated as high brow art.

Pungmul Performance at KOUS

December 22nd, 2010
I went to Severance again and got my ear cleaned again. Please, remember what I have learned about ears: don’t screw with your ears. Q-tips, fingers and other items should NOT be inserted into ears, ever (wet or dry). If perchance your ear is gunky and not cleaning itself like it should, go have your doctor clean it out.

My big research-related event for Wednesday was to attend a performance with 양은석 Yang Eunseok and one of his former university club fellows who I’ve met and two who I had not met before. The performance we went to see was featuring a female 상쇠 lead soi or 꽹과리 ggwaenggwari player. The player, 유순자 Yu Sunja plays호남우도Honam Udo 풍물 pungmul music (Pilbong is 호남좌도 Honam Jwado). I didn’t know how they were going to set it up as a distinct performance (the show was at KOUS and last featuring a set of three lead soi players). Although of course I assumed that the performance would feature the lead soi and include at least some straight up pungmul pieces. There is a lot more to being a lead soi player than just playing the ggwaenggwari or soi. Here is a video (an ad plays first) of a man playing ggwaeggwari (the man who talks at the start of the video is 김덕수 Kim Deoksu, the most famous 장구 janggu player in Korea). I chose to show this video partially because it demonstrates the vital dance component of playing the gwaenggwari. This video shows how a gwaenggwari player, the lead soi in particular is also sometime singing or chanting, the man singing here is 양진성 Yang Jinseong, who runs the 임실필봉농악Imshil Pilbong Nongak preservation association and is the lead soi player for the group.

The show was much more than I had expected, although I do have some confidence in KOUS arranging good shows. First of all it was amazing to see that not only was the lead soi player a woman but most of the group was made up of female performers. The only men were two 소고/상모 sogo/sangmo guys, the 태평소 taepyeongso player (who is actually employed at the same place that Yang Eunseok is working so he’s not the usual taepyeongso player for the group) and a man who came out and did a special sogo/sangmo solo (who I think was just there to show some visual variety, not a member of the same group). Although the lead soi player was great, the costumes were bright and fun (not being an ‘official’ protected group allows you to do things like wear feathers in your hair instead of big puffball flower hats), and everyone was really on top of their game it was one sixty-something year old lead sogo/sangmo woman that impressed me the most. She was so much fun! First of all, her sangmo and sogo were amazing. Even though she did not leap that high, she was fast and nimble, she accented motions so expertly and was so amazing that she was immediately the favorite of many in the crowd. She was also a total ham, dancing as though she was retarded at times (this is traditional in Korea, I don’t know what will happen if PC thought ever hits here- it’ll really screw with some traditional arts), demanding more applause before she went on and in general dancing at an energy level you’d not expect in a woman her age.

The lead soi and the second janggu player sang at one point, at another the MC pulled a famous singer out of the crowd and she and the lead soi player sang while everyone else was off stage. There was a solo by the sangmo/sogo lead and the first and second janggu player danced 설장구 seoljanggu together. The one strange thing was that there were no 북 buk players in the group! A guest sangmo/sogo man came out, he looked magnificent—the black and white makes it look like he was wearing black, silver and white—he was. It was really cool looking. He had to have had his sangmo custom made in that color scheme. The entire performance was really fun and I wish I could have gone out with Eunseok and the others for some makgeolli but Karjam is against women drinking… so I came home instead.

The Lead Soi:


Janggu Ladies:



One of the only two guys in the group:


Really amazing sangmo/sogo woman:







These flips are hard if you're twenty:



Clowning around:


Cool Sangmo/Sogo Soloist Man: