Korean Language Blog

A tiger 호랑이, or the transliteration “ho-rang-i”, is a significant motif in Korean culture, especially in the realm of folklore and folk paintings. 호랑이들 represent courage and pride; they are also a good luck symbol.

Korean folk paintings, known collectively as 민화, or the transliteration, “minhwa” were the common people’s art form in the late Joseon Dynasty (17^th – 19^th centuries), a pinnacle period of quality and quantity of painting in Korean history. During this era, artists illustrated their love for their people and country with an emphasis on realism. The most popular 민화 portray animals, particularly 호랑이들. 호랑이들 were depicted as “silent, but expressive”, alluding to a feared and revered beast.

호랑이. Mid-18th century, Joseon Dynasty National Museum.

민화, along with its 호랑이 motifs, remain important aspects of Korean identity and culture—influencing Korea’s contemporary art.

Last week I went to the opening reception of “Tiger-Silence”, an exhibit at the Embassy of the Republic of Korea’s Cultural Center in Washington, D.C. I took a seat in the back of the room, making fast friends with another Korean-American girl who said she was, “obsessed with tigers.” I asked her, “Would you be able to translate for me, if I become confused during the presentation?” She said, “I am Korean-American, but I do not speak fluent Korean. I will try my best.”

During the opening reception, the embassy’s spokesperson narrated a film that showcased various 민화 호랑이 paintings. All of the paintings portrayed realistic, but stylized 호랑이들; some 호랑이들 were illustrated with hats and people-like personas. Apparently, this genre is uniquely Korean. This historical montage was an introduction to the exhibit’s focal point, Im Taek Jun’s contemporary art— his 호랑이들.

“Check out the artist, Im Taek Jun.”, I said quietly. Im Taek Jun (임택준) is an inviting man with a quiet and playful confidence, i.e., tiger-like. Mr. Im has been a Korean contemporary artist since the late 1980s. He dresses as if he were a Joseon dynasty commoner in traditional baggy pants called 바지, or the transliteration “paji”. He also wears his hair in a topknot called a 상투, or the transliteration “sangtu”; married men during the Joseon Dynasty would wear 상투두개. His contradictions are endearing; his traditional garb and modern art.

Im Taek Jun; he is inspired by tigers.

Mr. Im then took center stage and discussed his journey in creating his 21^st solo exhibit, “Tiger-Silence”. He does not speak English. A translator reiterated his words to a mostly Anglo-American audience. He said, “I am always expressing creativity in different ways; I am a performer and a painter. I brought my 호랑이 paintings from Korea to share with the world. I would like you to see the playful side of the 호랑이.” While smiling, he also said, “I played, smiled, and cried with these 호랑이들 [I painted]. Be a part of the art work, as I am.” His whimsical, child-like smile did not need translation.

After the opening introductions, everyone was invited to eat dinner that was catered by a local Korean restaurant. My new friend and I gobbled up elaborate plates of Korean food 한식, or the transliteration “hansik”!

With full stomachs, we then walked upstairs to the exhibit. I weaved through the crowd, and observed each 호랑이 painting.

Im Taek Jun and his son, Chae Ho, were politely observing us, while we were observing the호랑이들.

Mr. Im’s 호랑이들 are modern, colorful, and yes— playful. He reinterpreted Korea’s 호랑이들 with a modern twist of “humorous satire”. I reminded myself of the traditional Korean 민화호, the 호랑이들. I mentally juxtaposed traditional and contemporary호랑이들: the Joseon Dynasty’s feared and revered 호랑이들; and Mr. Im’s friendly and colorful 호랑이들.

Here are some of my favorite pieces of the exhibit:

 I wanted to ask Im Taek Jun many questions. I approached him with a formal bow. I forgot to bring my Korean language diary with collected words and phrases; I usually carry it with me as a security blanket. I froze. I said, “Welcome to the U.S. I admire your work.” He gave me a blank, but friendly stare. I flagged down the translator in a very ungraceful manner; “Um, pardon. I am having a difficult time trying to ask Mr. Im questions regarding the symbolism of his paintings.” The translator said, “Oh, I am sorry. I thought you spoke Korean.” She kindly translated our conversation, which ended with smiles and a few formal bows.

After mingling, my new friend and I decided to invite Im Taek Jun and his son on a tour of Washington, D.C. We casually asked his son, Chae Ho, who said, “Thank you for the kind invitation. Facebook me, and we can figure something out.”

A few days later, we all met up at in the L’ Enfant area and went to the few museums. At the Natural Museum of History, we saw a taxidermal 호랑이 suspended from the ceiling; in unison, we all said “ho-rang-i”.

After perusing the museums, we went on a short hike to find hamburgers. Out from the cold, we sat, ate, and conversed. My stunted Korean was enabled by my friend’s intermediate Korean. She was my bridge. I asked, “Mr. Im, what does ‘Tiger-Silence’ symbolize?” He said that in our modern world, many people talk without meaning. He wanted to make a statement with a “silent tiger” exhibit, explaining that a silent 호랑이 has a quiet confidence.

Ironically, I thought of how it has been decades since anyone has seen a real 호랑이 in Korea. In a way, 호랑이들 were silenced in Korea with extinction. But through art, the tiger speaks silently.

After our very American outing, we exchanged very American hugs. Mr. Im invited us to his studio in Korea. I felt very Korean.

If you would like to see Im Taek Jun’s 호랑이들, his exhibit “Tiger-Silence” will be displayed at the Korean Embassy’s Cultural Center in Washington, D.C. until January 7, 2012. If you go, I would love to know what you think!

If you are not able to visit Washington, D.C., you can visit Mr. Im’s blog (where all of his artwork is listed): http://blog.daum.net/upcloud2 .

Questions for you:

What do you think tigers symbolically represent?

And, what do you think of Korean traditional art vs. Korean contemporary art?

Below are key words, a useful sentence, and a helpful grammatical tip:

Key words:

Tiger— 호랑이; ho-rang-i

Tigers— 호랑이들; ho-rang-i deul

Art (as a whole)— 예술; yesul

Art (specific artwork)— 미술; misul

Traditional— 전통; jeontong

Modern/Contemporary— 현대; hyeondae

Art painting— 미술그림; misul geulim

Korean folk art— 민화; minhwa

A useful sentence/phrase (Fill in the blank with a noun.):

“I like _______________.”—

“나는_______________ 좋아하다”; “Naneun _______________ joh-ahada.”

A helpful grammar tip:

When speaking in plural form, there are two possible word attachments:

들; deul (added at the end of a word; used for people and animals)

두개; dugae (added at the end of a word; used for objects)

It’s harvest time in Korea, and autumn (October to early December) is the only season persimmons are plentiful. If you live in Korea, you will see them being sold everywhere—from outdoor markets, grocery stores, to subway stations. For about 1,000 won, you can buy four to five persimmons. An affordable and healthy treat, persimmons are rich in potassium, magnesium, and vitamin A.

A persimmon 감, or the transliteration “gam”, is a Buddhist symbol of transformation. Before the persimmon is ripe, it’s green and very bitter. But, it changes its color to a vibrant orange and is very sweet when ripe. This “bitter to sweet” symbolic fruit is mostly eaten when ripe.

There are two types of persimmons found in Korea. One type is a hachiya persimmon 떫은감, or the transliteration “tteolbeun gam”; this translates to “sour persimmon”. A 떫은감 has a deep orange flesh, is acorn shaped, soft, and is often mistaken for a tomato at first glance. Once ripe, it’s soft and sweet with a lot of pulp. Eating one can get a bit messy! You can bite right into one, mash a few up, or make jam.

Another type is a fuyu persimmon 단감, or the transliteration “dan gam”; this translates to “sweet persimmon”. A 단감 has a light colored orange flesh, is round with a flat bottom, and has a crunchy pumpkin-like flavor. You can eat them when they are almost ripe, with or without its skin. The fuyu persimmon is my favorite variety because it’s eaten like an apple and isn’t as messy and sticky as the hachiya.

Fuyu persimmons were in full bloom this autumn on Dobong Mountain, a popular hiking destination near Seoul.

Even if you don’t care for persimmons, their rich colors definitely “spice up” Korea’s landscape in a beautiful way! Persimmon trees 감 나무, or the transliteration “gam namu” are found throughout Korea, particularly in mountainous regions.

Many Koreans eat ripe and dried persimmons. Year round, Korean markets and grocery stores carry dried persimmons 곶감, or the transliteration “got gam”. The word 곶 translates roughly into the English definition, “to skewer”. The traditional way to dry persimmons is on skewers; think: shish kebob persimmons! 곶감 are very sweet! You can also  use dried persimmons to make a popular dessert punch called 수정과, or the transliteration “sujeong-gwa”. 수정과 has a spicy ginger, cinnamon flavor; it’s revered as an acid-reflux and nausea reducer. Emily Kim of www.maangchi.com has a very easy to follow YouTube video and step-by-step instructions on how to make this traditional Korean tea: http://bit.ly/TLS8a.

Enjoy the last days of autumn! I am drinking a hot cup of 수정과!

Below are keywords and a correlating sentence. For simplicity, the progression from one word, to two words, to a simple sentence is listed below.

One word—
Persimmon:  감 ,”gam”

Two words—
Persimmon tree:  감 나무 , “gam namu”

A simple sentence—
“A persimmon tree is beautiful.”, “감나무 가 아름답다”, “Gam namu ga aleumdabda.”

References: Photos provided by Kelly West Mars Photography.

Beginner’s Mind”,초심

“Why are you learning Korean? You.” This question haunts me. As a second generation Korean-American who learned how to speak Korean by osmosis from my Korean mother’s small conversations and language leaks amongst her family and friends, I am insecure about my “Korean-ness”. Our stereotypical society expects me to know about Korean culture, food, and the language. Meanwhile, I have my mom on speed dial whenever I get “lost in translation”.

My de facto boundaries are defined by an irony of two separate identities that unite who I am as a person: I am an internal minority in Korea, and an external minority anywhere else in the world. Not quite blending in, I have an undesired language boundary when in South Korea because I am far from fluent. While living in and visiting South Korea, I felt like an imposter— a foreigner who embodies a local appearance. Moreover, in the United States, where I now live, I have this enduring boundary built by broken questions like, “Where are you from?”

In an attempt to conquer these so-called cultural boundaries, I want to improve my knowledge of all things Korean. A friend once said to me, “Your ‘East meets West’ isn’t getting along.” I appreciate and love Korean culture and traditions, but my “American-ness” is imprinted upon me. As funny as it is imagining myself in a hanbok 한복 (traditional, east) paired with jeans (modern, west), my idea of balancing my East and West is arming myself with knowledge about all things Korean. I want to polish that bridge by sharing what I know. But most importantly, I want to meet like-minded individuals who are learning or want to learn Korean; this would be a relief to my identity crisis.

I wanted to tell you my story, in hopes that you too would share yours.

My story: I am a beginner.

In a sea of “been there done that” ambiance, I am adopting the Buddhist concept of a “Beginner’s Mind” 초심, or the transliteration “chosim”. Note: the Hangeul word 초심 translates into the English word “beginner”. With 초심, there is eagerness, open-mindedness, and an absence of preconceptions when learning. As a beginner, there are many possibilities! For me, to build upon the innate Korean “things” I know from my family and from living in and visiting South Korea, I needed to get back to basics—a blank slate.

Are you a beginner too? Are you willing to ignore what others say about learning Korean—that its complex grammar is difficult to grasp, or that it is one of the most difficult languages to master, etc. Quite the contrary, I learned the Hangeul alphabet in two days! Easily learning how to write and pronounce Hangeul consonants and vowels encouraged me to look up the words I was reading aloud. It is a game for me, building on my vocabulary and constructing small sentences, etc.

My question for you is, “Why are you learning Korean?” You.” Each person has a reason for wanting to learn a language. It’s fascinating to me, to know why you want to learn Korean!
I would love to connect with you on Twitter: twitter.com/lindasauce. I am working on various blog entries related to Korean culture and the language. If there is a specific topic you are interested in—e.g., wanting a translation of a K-pop song, looking for Korean products outside of Korea, Korean language resources, etc.—please comment, and I will write about it.