A Wild Goose Flying in the Sky – Gugak from Korea
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A Wild Goose Flying in the Sky – Gugak from Korea A principal dancer in the Boston Ballet, an honored Candidate for Important Intangible Cultural Property No. 23, a boundary-crossing cellist, and a singer whose repertoire draws from ancient shaman ritual — all walk up to the barre…. No, this is not a spin-off of that classic joke, but an invitation to attend what will surely be one of the most enthralling, exuberant and flat-out gorgeous concert experiences of 2019, when the Korean Cultural Society of Boston presents “Festival of Dance and Gugak” at Jordan Hall on Sunday, September 29th at 3:00 PM. Details HERE. Gugak, Korean traditional music is one of the great classical musics of the world (see Michael Church’s inspirational volume “The Other Classical Musics: Fifteen Great Traditions” for some other examples). If you listen far enough back to any classical music, you will find two purposes for the extraordinary sound worlds we humans create: a desire to connect with the divine, and a desire to connect with one another. This is true of ‘my’ classical music, and it is also certainly true of the great repertoire of gugak. The classical music of Korean derives historically from both the Chinese court music traditions and the nuanced regional aesthetics expressing the diverse experiences of commoners. With its roots in complex and deeply expressive shaman music, gugak’s genres include the folk-inspired pansori (epic story-telling performed by a singer and a drummer), sanjo (a melodic instrument partnered with a drum), and sinawi (improvisatory instrumental performance). Gugak’s court and aristocratic genre encompass ritual and non-ritual contexts, expressed through official protocol as well as the language of poetry. In both folk and court contexts, dance has always played a crucial role. This concert will showcase it all! I am not a cheerleader for the claim “music is a universal language” any more than I would say that English is a universal language. The world’s music is a collection of many, many unique sound worlds, each embedded in and expressive of cultural, social and individual values and aesthetics. We can hear identity, we can hear history, and most of all, we can hear stories. On Sept. 29th, we will have the opportunity to immerse ourselves in a Korean ethos, led by some of its most eloquent, experienced, and talented artists. How would I describe the sounds of gugak? Start with pansori (pan is place, sori is song), the sung narratives that depict the human condition from terrible suffering and deepest despair to love, joy, and forgiveness. The singer traditionally trains next to a waterfall — for years trying to match its force — to acquire the treasured range of vocal qualities that go from a traditional western-style lyricism to a Janis Joplin no-holds-barred, sear-the-soul delivery. The stories themselves have been passed down in an oral tradition, imparting Joseon Dynasty Neo- Confucian values on the one hand and critiquing stark social realities on the other. Think rap, rock, and Lieder, but in a wholly different musical language. Add to that the improvisatory drum cycles (jangdan) that raise and lower the heartbeat of the performers and listeners. The gosu (drummer) doesn’t just accompany on his buk; he guides, provokes, soothes, encourages, and inspires the singer, who not only vocalizes, but also acts the story, making for a thrilling and personal interpretation. In all, this remarkable minimalist opera will keep the audience on the edge of their seats. Master pansori singer Hyeun-Bin Lim, whose prized coarse vocals and brilliant witticisms have won him many awards, will undertake the climactic scene from The Song of Shimheong. In a bold and interesting move, Finnish-American cellist, Kari Juusela will join Lim and his partner, award-winning gosu Tae-young Kim. This border-crossing collaboration will perfectly illustrate gugak’s depth, breadth and diversity: a rich classical music anchored by deeply-held values and aesthetics, whose proponents are boldly tasting, sharing, borrowing, and mixing, as they dare to transform treasured tradition into contemporary expressions that are at once unique and visionary. Sanjo, instrumental solo with drum, evolved from the folk music of Korea’s southwestern Jeolla provinces. Again, this refined genre of folk music finds its roots in shaman music. It is highly expressive, with characteristic bending of notes, a universe of articulations and tonal qualities, and full of sometimes passionately pungent, sometimes meditative sonic gestures. In fact, the translation of the two Sino-Korean characters “scattered melodies” comprise the term sanjo. A feeling of improvisation layered upon the rhythmic cycles organizes the composition, perhaps similar to the role of the tala cycles in Indian raga, or in a more abstract comparison, how Mozart used the underlying narrative sonata form as a structure upon which to lay his melodic ideas. Tae-baek Lee performs the afternoon’s sanjo on a rare ajaeng (giant bowed zither). Not only a master ajaeng player, he is also a Candidate for Korean Intangible Cultural Property No. 72 (Southwestern Shaman Ritual), No 5 (drum accompaniment), and 34, Gangsanje Simcheongga (from the pansori repertoire). Tae-young Kim will accompany Lee, this time on janggu (two headed drum). The cultural preservation system in Korea designates certain cultural practices, and genres of music and dance as Important Intangible Cultural Properties. Jongmyo jeryeak, a Rite to the Royal Ancestors (established in the 14th century) won the first designation in 1964. The rites take place at a Confucian shrine with ritual music and dance. Artists who have reached the highest level of mastery in one of the designated genres are themselves national treasures. For example, Tae-baek Lee is a Candidate for three Intangible Cultural Properties; Ji-Young Yi is a Candidate for Important Intangible Cultural Property No. 23 (gayageum sanjo and gayageum byeongchang). As important as preservation is, the intention to keep things as they were can be a threat to a cultural tradition’s survival. That is one of the reasons I admire Ji-Young Yi’s work. She is deeply knowledgeable about the past while also a leader in new collaborations and the avant-garde. In this way, she and her colleagues extend and redefine gugak. The ritual ensemble that helped the shaman to send prayers and blessings to the world of the ancestors evolved into the modern-day stage genre sinawi. In the Jordan Hall program, the traditional folksong “Heung Taryeong” fronts the sinawi ensemble of ajaeng, gayageum (plucked zither), daegeum (bamboo flute) and janggu. This will include a rare and beautiful performance with renowned pansori singers Na Young Kim and Hyeun-bin Lim leading. Gugak falls along a spectrum with one end consisting of folk music and the other the music of the upperclasses (literati) and the court. The music I’ve described so far fits in the first category. It is highly expressive, emotional, full of energy, magnetism, and vibrant color. It derives from music intended to attract the ancestors, to share earthly experiences without holding back, to act as a kind of catharsis for the hardships in life, and to celebrate the joys, full-throttle. Music of the court must be proper, elegant, and orderly. Its fragrance is a highly refined distillation of the qualities heard in the old villages and fields of the lower classes. Instead of the relentless energy of a cascading waterfall, imagine a pebble thrown into a lake, and the ever- widening ripples that result. Of Wan-chul Won’s daegeum playing, one critic said: “Won’s low, soft and deep daegeum sound calms down our minds, as if it is stirring up a mysterious happening. I feel like a wild goose flying in the sky when listening to his music.” Here, he performs a set of variations based on a melody called “Song of Perfect Peace,” part of the classical vocal repertoire enjoyed in the Joseon Dynasty. The most daring piece will most certainly come from master artists and improvisors Ji-Young Yi on gayageum and Tae-baek Lee on janggu. Remarkably, they will be joined by two dancers, Seo Hye Han, principal dancer of the Boston Ballet, and Michael Ryan, also of the Boston Ballet. I can only imagine what this collaboration will bring. Korean traditional dance movements emphasize verticality coming from an alternation between bending and extending the knees. There is also a feeling of poised suspension, a hovering that builds in energy and then releases. In contrast to classical Western ballet, Korean traditional dance steps begin with the heel rather than the toe or ball of the foot, caressing the floor gently while moving. Along with the shoulder motions, these all contribute to “an emphasis on motion rather than isolated positions – ‘motion in stillness’.” In Judy Van Zile’s “Perspectives on Korean Dance,” she describes a three-part flow of energy: “a tensing of emotion, a pacification of emotion, and a release of the emotion.” Given all this, I am wondering if Seo Hye Han and Michael Ryan will bring a completely different artistic response to the sanjo. Knowing Ji-Young Yi’s reputation as both an esteemed traditional performer and leader of avant-garde collaborations, this will undoubtedly mark a stunning co-creation. Then we will enjoy Samgo-mu, a traditional drum dance that is a colorful, athletic, and graceful- yet-powerful feast for the eyes, ears and heart. While it may have made its way to the court, its roots derive from Buddhist dance and folk expressions. Two offerings appropriately bookending the show serve as the foundations of gugak: the signature percussion ensemble music, pungmul, and folksong. With origins in rural percussion communal performance, pungmul constitutes the perfect welcome.