Here’s a story for you. About a year ago I finally got the chance to revisit Gwangju, South Korea after more than ten years away. I met up with an old coworker of mine to catch up as we walked through the Damyang Bamboo Forest, one of my favorite places in Gwangju. And as we walked down memory lane, I began to tear up at the restaurant where we ate lunch because, for the first time in years, I finally got to eat kimchi that tasted exactly how I like it.
I was living in Gwangju when “Gangnam Style” by PSY took off, and K-Pop has exploded in popularity in the time since. But my musical interests were always elsewhere. I loved the sound of pansori, an epic story-singing tradition with a unique gravely vocal color. I was drawn to samulnori, a traditional percussion and dance ensemble. Folksongs from the many different provinces fascinated me, as did the ways different jazz ensembles and indie rockers updated them to explore their Korean identity in the twenty-first century. (Definitely check out Lee Hee-Moon’s various projects for some incredible examples!)
So I was thrilled when I saw the new release Arcade from clarinetist Wonkak Kim and his wife and collaborator Eunhye Grace Choi. It is an album that explores the eclecticism of the modern Korean identity through pieces written entirely by Korean women.
You can see that eclecticism on its cover. Kim and Choi stand before a brutalist concrete façade in modern clothing inspired by hanbok, the national costume of Korea, with Choi’s outfit proudly displaying a pattern of hangeul, the Korean writing system.
The title, Arcade, comes from the opening piece by Juri Seo, which captures the sublime chaos of old-school Korean arcades where she spent her childhood.
Rochester is also well-represented in this album courtesy of Sihyun Uhm, an Eastman alum and former WXXI intern. Her piece Parent’s Love, written during her studies at Eastman, is a wistful, nostalgic reimagining of the classic song “Mother’s Heart [Eomeoni maeum]” that is a staple in Korean celebrations of Parent’s Day on May 8th.
While some composers explore these childhood memories, others look to marry Korean high art with European traditions. Hyunjung Ahn’s A Beautiful Polonaise, Joanne Na’s Open Letters, and Jean Ahn’s Blush all draw inspiration from European music and poetry and blend them with traditional Korean musical gestures. Jiyoun Chung uses such techniques to great effect as a protest against gun violence in her Ariaria, which deploys dramatic weeping gestures to represent a community’s grief.
The album is a journey through Korean life and art as told by a handful of very talented women. And I feel like the English phrase “I liked it” or “I enjoyed it” does not really do the album justice—instead, in this case, I much prefer the Korean “Maeum-e dureosseo”: it entered my heart.
