33. Sancheong's finest potter
In 1592, Japan invaded Korea. Their ultimate destination was China, but they never got further than Korea, and they wrought havoc there. During their occupation, which lasted on and off until their second invasion in 1598 was repelled by Admiral Yi Sun-shin's famous turtle ships, they sent back to Japan in their ships a human cargo which speaks volumes about the schizophrenic nature of the Japanese psyche at the time.
First, reflecting the barbaric ruthlessness of the samurai spirit, were piles of Korean noses. To validate the number of enemy killed, it was conventional to decapitate the vanquished corpse and send the head back home. But the Koreans were slaughtered in such numbers that their heads took up too much room in the ships, so as a concession the soldiers were permitted to send back only the noses. A grassy burial mound of Korean noses, erroneously called Mimzuka, the ‘Mound of Ears’, can been found in Kyoto
11.
Second, reflecting the artistic sensibilities of the Japanese elite, were Korean potters, kidnapped and sent to Japan to practice their skills there. Japan had nothing to match the sophisticated simplicity of Korean ceramic art, and desperately wanted it
12. So Korean potters were forced to live and work in Japan. Their skills were perpetuated by their descendents over the centuries.
It seems their descendants settled comfortably in their new country. In the 1970s, Park Chung-hee tried to persuade some of them back to Korea, to bring some of the ancient arts back to the mother country. But the best deal that he could secure was that one of the surviving descendants of the kidnapped potters, Yoon Do-gwan, agreed to accept three Korean potters as students to re-teach them the ancient arts. One of those students was Min Young Ki, who lives in Sancheong. Min studied with Yoon for fiave years, and his skill and artfulness flourished.
Coming full circle, a retired Japanese prime minister, Hosokawa Morihiro
13, happened to have a love of the simple lines of Korean pottery, and wanted to learn the art of Korean ceramics from a Korean, in Korea. The potter he came to was that same potter, Min Young Ki, and he visited Min's studio in Sancheong on a regular basis.
Min's studio proudly shows a photograph of him with his illustrious pupil, together with many of the outstanding works produced by him and his son, who has also continued the family pottery tradition. Outside the studio, mounds of local clay stand waiting to be used – it’s a white clay which can take firing at a higher temperature than most.
Min hopes to have an exhibition in London soon, maybe in Gallery Bresson, where Korean ceramic artist Roh Kyung-jo exhibited a couple of years ago. We look forward to it.
34. Makgeolli, Maeuntang and a fashion show (10%)
We sat outside in a pavilion overlooking the river as the sun went down picnicking on tiny fish deep-fried with the usual side dishes washed down with makgeolli, while we waited for the rest of our party to arrive. There followed an unusual speciality of the local Saengcho Restaurant: a maeuntang stew with freshwater fish, seasoned with yeolmae, the fragrant mountain herb. More makgeolli followed. Before we could get really stuck in to 2009's most talked-about drink, a call came from the mayor's wife to ask why we weren't at the fashion show. [Sparrows]
The Sancheong Medicinal Herb Festival seems to be full of special events. This one was a hanbok fashion show inspired by the story of local hero Heo Jun. Cue lots of colourful costume of serving girls, palace attendants, king and queen and the great doctor himself.
Saturday 6 May: Sancheong to Seoul
35. The Jirisan trail (50%)
The Jirisan trail provides a well signposted and easy-to-follow walking experience through the foothills of mainland South Korea's highest peak. It passes in front of the Sancheong-Hamyang Massacre museum which commemorates the sad killings of innocent villagers by South Korean forces during the fight against leftist partisans in the Jirisan area. This was where we picked up the trail for a pleasant stroll through fields, crossing stream and climbing a gentle wooded gorge containing waterfalls and rock-pools. On one flatted rock a group of eight locals were happily picnicking surrounded by the cool water.
The whole Jirisan trail extends from [ ] in the West (Jeollanam-do) to [ ] in the East, a distance of [ ]. There was nothing too strenuous in the section we completed, in between the museum and the road leading down to the King's Tomb. Pleasant views over the peaks, gentle breezes and rather less crowded than a weekend hike on Bukhansan. It was a welcome break from sightseeing.
Apart from the picnickers, we only encountered one small party of hikers, professionally kitted out with walking boots, ski-like sticks to aid walking and rucksacks for daily necessities. For the short section we walked such gear was not necessary, though there were a fair amount of reasonable-sized stones on the path and a pair of decent lightweight walking shoes would probably have suited us better than the trainers we were wearing.
For herb-spotters there were plenty of medicinal and edible leaves on the trail, including my favourite, yeolmae.
36. The Last King of Kaya
Korea is rightly proud of its heritage, and submits the most select elements of its long history to UNESCO for inscribing in the list of important world heritage items. One of the most recent items to have been so listed is the Joseon Dynasty Royal Tombs. They are beautifully peaceful places to visit. Perfectly manicured grassy mounds, in a perfect setting: hill behind, river in front.
The tomb of the last king of Kaya is a different affair: darker, enclosed, and more melancholy in feeling. And the most obvious difference is that there is no grass growing on the mound.
The Kaya confederacy flourished 42-532 CE. It was based in the South-western part of current Gyeongsangnam-do, incorporating Jirisan mountain. Though blessed with rivers, sea and mountains the space was not perhaps big enough to enable Kaya to survive against its stronger neighbours – and in particular the Silla kingdom whose centre was in Kyongju, in modern Gyeongsangbuk-do. With his life coming to an end, King Guhyeong of Kaya realised that his kingdom would not survive his death, and he felt unworthy of the expense of a grassy burial mound. He ordered that his tomb should be unfinished, just a mound of stones.
At least, that's the local story, and a moving tale it is. And more, the site is said to be influenced not by the conventional pung-su to be found in royal tombs (hill behind, water in front), though to most people's eyes that is indeed a factual description of the topography of the place. There is said to be deeper meaning in the landscape, revealing the shape of a tigress suckling her cub. According to the tale, just as when a tiger looking after her cub will not defend herself, so the last king of Kaya accepted his fate and met his end gracefully, and the site for the tomb was chosen so that the landscape was similar to the shape of the tigress.
The information provided at the entrance to the tomb provides a more cautious and pedestrian speculation as to its history, but the signposts on the mountain trails are bolder, pointing unequivocally to Wangneung: the King's Tomb. Together with Wangsan, the King's Mountain, the place names in Sancheong claim a history back to pre-Silla times.
The site is one of the many interesting attractions of Sancheong county, and as if to emphasise its special history when I visited in early May there was one last cherry tree holding on to its blossom, long after all the blossom further north in Seoul and elsewhere in Sancheong and Hadong counties had fallen from the trees.
A short drive back to the seal centre for lunch at a local speciality restaurant serving Shabeu shabeu – piles of mushrooms, mountain leaves and thinly-sliced beefed boiled in stock at your table. This was our farewell lunch and we toasted the end of our travels with some creamy dongdongju – far to be preferred over the thinner and sometimes slightly acidic makgeolli.
37. The ever-popular Park Soo-keun
Arriving back in Seoul, there was just time to check out whether Hyundai Gallery's marketing spend on their Park Soo-keun blockbuster show was justified. Park is one of Korea's post-war artists, a safe bet in the auction room regularly selling for $300,000 in the US and occasionally breaking new highs – at one point Park held the record for a Korean painting at auction – around $2 million. This exhibition marked the 45
th anniversary of his death.
The images are domestic, nostalgic and of an immediately recognisable style which is all Park's own – he was self taught and thus did not follow any particular school of painting. His work spans the 1950s and 1960s up to the time of his death in 1965. The images of women at a market place, or people simply sitting under a tree, hark back to an imagined time of innocence before war and the colonial period scarred Korea's 20
th century history. There is never much motion in Park's paintings. Even the painting of four dancing nongak gong-players looks static, albeit with a certain jagged energy. Presented in profile, they recall the paintings on Egyptian tombs. The portrait of a woman pounding grain does not show the hard labour involved, but rather conjures up the woman's long and patient life. In fact, in most of Park's paintings there is a sense of waiting for something that may never happen.
The colours are muted, in simple rustic ochres and earthy tones, and the rough texture of the oil is reminiscent of Buncheon ware pottery. Most of the time the blurring of the image adds to the fond sense of nostalgia, but sometimes the obscuring of detail is self-defeating: the painting of girls playing with jackstones could easily be titled Women Sitting, as indeed are so many of his other paintings, because the stones cannot be picked out in the coarseness of the grain.
Possibly the most atmospheric paintings are those which suggest a journey is taking place – women walking along a road flanked with forlorn and bare winter trees. Park's trees normally seem to be bare, but occasionally a happy exception is presented – for example a magnolia in full bloom was another favourite of mine.
Unlike the Kang Ik-joong exhibition which closed a week beforehand, Hyundai was charging admission for this show. Park Soo-keun is always popular with Koreans, though, and the 5,000 Won price tag was not deterring the visitors. And the limited edition prints at the front of the gallery priced at up to 300,000 Won seemed to be attracting the punters. Worth a visit as an opportunity to see a generous collection of Parks in one place. And if you're very rich you could buy one.
38. The Korean Literature Project (30%)
I was back in Seoul earlier than I had expected, and seized the opportunity to link up with another blogger whose work I respect. Charles Montgomery, who came to Seoul three years ago and teaches on the Advanced Interpretation and Translation programme at Dongguk University, started the Korean Literature in Translation blog (ktlit.com) earlier this year. The site has rapidly secured its place in the blogosphere as an interesting and focused source of information on Korean Literature.
39. Rakkoje (0%)
Text
Sunday 9 May: Departure
40. The Return home (30%)
Returning to the hotel I discover that the concept of a Considerate Contractor scheme, such as makes the constant road and office construction work less unbearable in London, is an alien concept in Seoul. With a military precision which would have cleared the partisans out of Jirisan in a jiffy, a road repair team had simultaneously sealed off both ends of my alley with piles of tarmac, bulldozers and heavy rollers. The thought of working from one end of the alley to the other so that local residents could get access in or out did not seem to cross their minds. Down to earth with a bump. Yes, Korea has many attractions to offer, wonderful food, scenery and culture, but every now and then you get a rude awakening. Not enough to stop you wanting to come back.
Seoul is World Design City, but at least one airline could do with a design makeover inside their cabins, and possibly some training on how to board a plane without stressing people out. Once inside the plane, the cabin staff are faultless and extremely well-presented in their pastel uniforms. But why does an airline stuff the back-of-seat pockets with so many fat magazines (which hardly no-one ever reads – particularly the duty free magazine) that passengers can't fit any of their own reading materials in there? And which bash even vertically challenged people like me in the knee when the person in front reclines their seat over-enthusiastically? With no space under the seat in front to store baggage because of large dangling life-jacket containers, and an over-burdened and under-powered in-flight entertainment system I can understand why a colleague I bumped into in the boarding lounge says his preferred airline is the other one.
부부송 Couple pine
샤브샤브 Nice meal!
Follow-up
Ken Nah
Thanks so much for your time when I visited Seoul last week. It was a very informative and interesting discussion. Sorry about the Pimatgol question!
I just wanted to clarify one thing from our discussion. You mentioned that each new building in Seoul has to have a new feature. Is that requirement just a guideline, or does it have the force of law? Ie, How strictly is it enforced?
Isabelle Kwak
Thanks so much for your time when I visited Hadong last week. You were a very well informed guide. I have yet to visit Kangwon-do, so maybe next time I shall have to come and stay in Toscavini!
I wonder if you could answer a couple of questions
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The name of the folk village