Yi Saenggang is the Best Daegeum Player in Korea

 April 28^th, 2011

So for mom's last day in Korea we stopped by the Seoul History Museum, which has an excellent exhibition right now of photos from a Czeck visitor to Korea who was here in 1901. That's all we had time to look at, although I was itching to show them the big diorama of Seoul. We had lunch, went home, took mom to the airport. It was sad to say good-bye, we had a great visit. I was only –much too snippy to be acceptable—once. That's like a record for me (not saying I wasn't mildly bitchy on other occasions but I only had to apologize once).

I went straight from the airport to the 중요무형문화재전수회관's 풍류극장 (the Pungryu Theatre at the Intangible Cultural Properties Training Center bldg) for the third installment in the series we also went to on Tuesday. This show I wanted to see because 이생강 Yi Saenggang, National Human Treasure for Daegeum Sanjo was playing. I love him! The other two featured performers were 정명숙 Jeong Myeongsuk who I've seen at KOUS and other locations quite a few times, she's a jeonsu gyoyuk jogyo for 살풀이 salpuli and 강정숙 Gang Jeongsuk, who I may never have seen before. She is a 가야금산조 및 병창 gayageum byeonchang National Human Treasure like Ahn Sukseon. The performance was very different from the performance on Tuesday. First of all it seemed that all three members were resistant to the talking that Ms. Oh wanted to see going on between numbers. However the show was almost fifty minutes longer- Gang played sanjo (in other words she only played and didn't sing) for a good twelve minutes or more, then also sang (pansori) quite a few numbers and Yi played four different types of flute (several numbers on most of them). It was really awesome. At the end Ms. Oh finally got Jeong to dance again (she protested "I thought I was only here to dance salpuri" but she did ipchum) and Yi accompanied her on the daegeum while two other musicians also played. Ms. Oh tried to get Gang to play or sing during this number and Gang refused to do either. I liked the show much more, and I also felt like I'd gotten my money's worth. The whole evening there were some very loud 추임새 chu'imsae people, including the guy one over from directly behind me. A lot of talk back in general. At the very end one of them insisted Ms. Oh sing. She sang about 40 seconds, but it was quite good. 

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. 

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]

---

[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.

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

Yi Maebang's Final Performance

December 26th, 2010
Our main activity of the day was to attend 이매방 Yi Maebang (the most famous traditional dancer in Korea)'s final performance. He has so very many fans and former students (despite the high rates to study with him) that the large hall at the 국악원 gugakwon was sold out in the 50,000 and 40,000 won seating areas, with only a few seats left in the 3rd floor balcony 30,000 won seats that I bought for Karjam and myself. The 3rd floor was also swelteringly hot (especially considering the multiple layers we were wearing). There were high points to the show, but I felt that mostly we were there to support the traditional arts and pay tribute to one of the most influential figures in traditional arts. 양종승 Yang Jongseung, my mentor who is a senior curator at the National Folk Museum and was Yi's student during his own doctoral fieldwork (he is an 이수자 (isuja, third ranked) in one of Yi's arts, 승무 seungmu or the monk's dance, was the MC. Yi is one of the very few people in Korea to attain National Human Treasure status in two arts.

Yi himself danced part of three numbers, seungmu, 입춤 Ipchum and 살풀이 (salpuri is the other art he's listed for). In each case he seemed about to totter over. His steps were small and careful, his arms were shaking and each time as he went to leave the stage a young woman in Uggs ran out to at least 1/3 across the stage to support him as he walked off. When he bent down to pick up the scarf in salpuri I was concerned he'd get stuck down there. Honestly, I think he should have had his final performance a few years ago, he simply could not do justice to the dances or his own reputation. The best performances of the night were 보렴무 Boryeommu and 삼고무/오고무 Samgomu/Ogomu with women on the 3 drum sets and 7 men and 1 woman playing the 5 drum sets.

Performance at KOUS

December 12th, 2010
Karjam and I went to a performance at KOUS with eight big name Korean Traditional genre dancers performing. I wasn’t sure we’d go until the last minute, then everything worked against us getting there on time (like there was a huge fire on a construction site next to the road so there was a huge traffic jam) and we missed part of the first piece. But I think it was worth the 20,000 won tickets. If Karjam knew they were 20,000 each I don’t think he’d agree, his feeling is that the dancers are too old, that it would be better to watch young beautiful men or women dancing. I was amazed throughout the entire performance at how young each dancer moved (most were in their 70s, the youngest were in their 60s or perhaps late 50s). I sometimes feel that some of the older performers need to retire from active performance and let their protégé take the spotlight, but I would only say that was true for two out of the eight soloists and my feeling may be tinged by my (lesser) interest in the specific dances those two were doing.

There was an MC, the same excellent MC as did Saturday at the mask dance festival in late October, 진옥섭 Jin Okseop. He’s really great, but part of his introductions to the pieces were joking and playful, not necessarily usefully contextualizing. In fact I felt he needed to include more basic information, although for an audience willing to spend between 10 and 30 dollars to see that performance, well, the audience was already pretty familiar with Korean performing arts, they had a certain level of knowledge, I’m assuming, so perhaps he was just trying to avoid talking down to anyone.

The best performance was of 도살풀이 Do-salpuri. The dance is one that I am pretty tired of seeing, as I’ve mentioned before, and there were three salpuri performances (호남살풀이, 살풀이, 도살풀이) during the evening, but the one danced by 양길순 Yang Gilsun, the Do-salpuri was really amazingly beautiful. Do-salpuri uses a very long scarf, instead of a shorter one or even two scarves. Yang's dance was full of feeling, much more and I think the audience would have been crying. I was also really surprised by the lively, fast, flirtatious performance of 태평무 Taepyeongmu by 이명자 Yi Myeongja, despite her stage make-up Yi looked positively ancient, but her dancing was that of a twenty-year-old. She was just spell-binding. I had gone expecting to be most impressed by a couple of the other performances, it was nice to have my expectations exceeded in the case of the two performers mentioned above.

After the show Karjam and I bought a pair of shoes for him to exercise in, and I bought a couple presents.

Photo: Yang Gilsun's Do-salpurichum:

Photo: Karjam with the wasteful but pretty lights on the trees outside the Grand Hyatt Hotel

Transmission of Performing Arts within the Family

November 19th, 2010
In the morning I went to the history class at SNU. Again, she put me to sleep. I think she’s super knowledgeable but a hot room, cold day, blinds drawn, lights low, slide show… added to Professor Bak’s really mellow voice, it just was not a good situation. I just have not been able to sleep much since early in the week.

After class I ran errands, came home and in the evening Karjam and I went to the second in a series of three nights of performances at the 중요무형문화재전수회관의 풍류극장 Intangible Cultural Asset Training Center’s Pungryu Theatre. The series was focusing on transmission within families. It was really amazing, but I wish we’d been able to see Thursday’s show. Friday was also quite special, with four acts. The first act was 신상철 Shin Sangcheol and his wife 선영숙 Seon Yeongsuk performing with (among others) their two sons 신현식 Shin Hyeonshik and 신현석 Shin Hyeonseok. They performed several pieces, the first was 가곡 gagok but I must admit that I find Hilary’s assistant 기쁨 Gibbeum’s gagok to be more appealing. The highlight was when the family (plus several others) played 시나위 shinawi. Since my research is on transmission, this was a wonderful example of transmission to see. The father was playing 단소 danso and 해금 haegeum, the mother played 가야금 gayageum and the two sons played 아쟁 ajaeng and haegeum.

The second act was not one I was looking forward to, because I am so sick of seeing 살풀이 salpuri (a dance rooted in shamanism) and 승무 seungmu (a dance rooted in Buddhism). They are performed too much, but I felt that the two performers, a mother and daughter 김복련 Kim Boknyeon and 신현숙 Shin Hyeonsuk, had a slightly new/different interpretation. In particular the daughter’s interpretation of seungmu felt fresh, usually we see two styles: the style perpetuated by 이매방 Yi Maebang (who actually performed on Thursday) and the style of 한영숙 Han Yeongsuk (now deceased), sometimes called the 경기 Gyeonggi style. Many dance historians insist that both dances were originally choreographed by 한성준 Han Seongjun, who as you might guess is the father of Han Yeongsuk. The two performers we saw are registered for the -regional- arts of salpuri and seungmu for the Gyeonggi region, so it's reasonable to guess that they are preserving the Han Yeongsuk-ryu, yet I've seen other performers of that ryu and the dance (particularly for seungmu) was somewhat different. The pamphlet information on their performance, although written by 이병옥 Yi Byeongok, one of my Songpa Sandae Noli performers, a dance historian professor, did not get into the extreme politics of ryu. (Extreme politics indeed, as regional performers will get a smaller stipend than nationally registered performers, less status, fewer paying students, fewer performance opportunities, and if indeed some can argue that their performance is the more 'authentic' one... well, you understand). [Advertisement for Korea featuring a seungmu dancer. It's just really cool looking, won't give you an idea of the dance, though.][Just a couple minutes of salpuri]

The reason I went to the show, though, was to see the third act, 박동매 Bak Dongmae. She had learned from her mother, the late 조공례 Jo Gongnae. I had a chance to meet Bak in 2008 and interview her, I was very impressed with her attitude and I love her singing voice. She is the National Human Treasure for 남도들노래 Namdo Deulnorae, a type of work (farming) song from the southern corner of Korea such as her home, Jindo Island. Bak’s performance was great, with three other women singing chorus verses and they acted out various tasks of carding and spinning as well as transplanting and weeding the rice seedlings as they sang.

The last act was another mother/daughter pair, 박경자 Bak Gyeongja and 김명이 Kim Myeongi. Their art (both of them are certified in the same art, which wasn’t the case in all of these families) is 삼설양굿 Samseolyanggut, a shamanic ceremony from 순천 Suncheon and registered for protection as a regional (South Jeolla Province) art, not for national protection. Karjam and I watched this show for nearly an hour as they performed the ceremony, (which was, like many gut, quite bizarre with knives and shoveling food into mouths, and sexual behavior, cross-dressing and well... the things that society usually sweeps under the rug) but as it grew closer to 11 and I became more concerned that we’d miss the last bus and have to take a subway home (and as I found the gut more and more repetitive) we finally left before they’d finished. We were already some of the longest remaining audience members. Packed at the beginning, apparently much of the audience had come for the first two acts, by the time the third act started nearly half the audience had left.