Sunday, March 3, 2019

Tongil Arirang (통일아리랑): Choreographing the Arirang Mass Games

Cover art of Arirang, a novel by
Ri Ryŏng Chŏl published in 2013
"Tongil Arirang" (Unification Arirang) is a short story that appeared in Chosŏn Munhak in February 2009 (after KJI had his debilitating stroke, but over a year before his son was appointed successor). It tells the story of Kim Jong Il's efforts to assist his choreographers in planning the Arirang Mass Games while hosting ethnic Koreans from around the world.

This story appears to be a condensed version of Ri Ryŏng Chŏl's 2013 novel "Arirang," part of the "Eternal Leadership" (불멸의 향도) series. The ambitious reader can find the entire novel on uriminzokkiri.

The story is unusual in having a Korean-American as a semi-sympathetic character. It follows the reconciliation of two old friends who were separated in the chaos of the Korean War. One went South and then emigrated to the US, becoming an accomplished composer and pianist. The other went North and became the foremost choreographer for the Arirang Mass Games. Through the two artists, we get a sense of North Korean archetypes of artists in the socialist and capitalist worlds. Through their eventual reconciliation, we also catch a glimpse of the Party's ideal vision of national unification.

Story Summary

KJI is up late at night looking over the script for Arirang. He calls up Culture Minister Wŏn to discuss final arrangements, which are proceeding despite "the difficult international situation."

They discuss the various foreign delegations that are visiting, particularly the Korean compatriots from the South and overseas. Many of them have been asking after old relatives and friends, not knowing if they are still alive. A Korean-American musician by the name of Chŏn Sang Ŭm had wandered into the Office of Overseas Compatriots (해외교포사업국) asking after his old friend Rim Jin Woo, who was the lead choreographer for Arirang.

KJI recalls hearing a sad story from Rim about his friend Chŏn ten years ago. Rim was quite bitter about it, but he's an amiable enough fellow so KJI figures he'll have welcomed his old friend back by now. He smiles, thinking about the two artists lounging together on a grassy knoll sharing old memories and talking shop.

On the subject of Arirang, KJI asks Wŏn about the problematic "unification scene." Wŏn confesses it's already undergone three revisions. Rim Jin Woo, the choreographer, seems stuck; hence, the committee sent the script to the Leader for advice.

KJI asks to meet Rim and is informed that the choreographer has been sleeping at May Day Stadium lately, engrossed in his work.

An Arirang performance at May Day Stadium, July 2013.
Src: RFA
KJI decides to watch the rehearsal DVD one more time before paying Rim a visit. He reviews the scene where the "wall of division" crumbles. Amid a patriotic chorus, the scene fades in to a riot of dancers in pink, yellow and white skirts twirling against a backdrop of Mt. Paekdu and Mt. Halla. In the middle, they flip their colors to form a red map of unified Korea on the field.

KJI knows what's wrong; the choreography is formulaic and limited, and the most vital message, about "the need to assist our people's self-determination and independent development in the 21st century," is too abstract. The scene fixates on the historic events of the year 2000, but "unfamiliar political slogans cannot stir a crowd."

He turns off the video and listens to a recording of the orchestral score "Bumper Year Comes to Chŏngsanbŏl" (청산벌에 풍년이 왔네), a hybrid folk opera from the 1960s. The dynamic, stirring melody, played by a mixture of Korean folk instruments and modern instruments, calls up a sweeping vision of a misty country morning at harvest time, craggy mountains and roiling rivers. The 룡강기나리 main melody and the constant 휘모리장단 rhythm always fills him with nameless joy. The central theme coalesces in a grand finale evoking the Chollima horse descending from heaven.

This recording shows just how music can move people. Why can't Rim Jin Woo create something like this for Arirang?

Opening Ceremonies of 13th World Youth Festival in
Pyongyang, 1989; a precursor to the Arirang Mass Games
Src: dprktoday
KJI first met Rim when he was choreographing the opening ceremonies for the 13th World Youth Festival (제13차 세계청년학생축전). He immediately sensed that this was an earnest and devoted young artist with a discerning eye and a great sense of mission. Afterward he talked with him at length and learned of his tragic personal history, deeply affected by the nation's division. No doubt, it was this tragic past that enabled him to create such moving art.

KJI checks his schedule; sadly, he has no time to meet with Rim Jin Woo today.

But driving past the Paekŭntan neighborhood in the pre-dawn light, he spots Rim in workout clothes, jogging along dejectedly. He accurately surmises that Rim is troubled about Arirang, and the two men sit down in a nearby riverside park to discuss it.
   "Basically, what you're trying to say in this scene is that our republic, as the leader of its own history, has the power to end our nation's division. ... But the inspiration just won't come. The desire for unification is too abstract and subjective. The passion and joy infusing the whole scene, the way the whole Korean map turns red, it's all very symbolically meaningful - but you need a great story to bring a huge crowd to their feet.... To get it right you'll need to study more about Arirang and our people's history."
Changing the subject, KJI asks about Rim's old friend visiting from America, and learns that Rim refused to meet him. A disappointed KJI asks why, prompting Rim to recall the whole story.

Chŏn Sang Ŭm had been Rim's closest childhood friend. His father, who had gone to Japan to study Koguryŏ era court music, was butchered in the anti-Korean rioting after the Great Kanto earthquake, and his mother died of grief soon after. The orphaned Chŏn came to live with Rim's family, becoming like a twin brother.

A colonial era water carrier
Rim's father worked in the streets of Seoul as a water carrier (물지게장수) until he died in a car accident. After that, Rim Jin Woo and his little sister Jin Ae both quit school, and Rim took work as a dockworker and porter to support Chŏn's piano lessons. Jin Ae even sold her blood to help pay Chŏn's school fees, and the two of them fell in love.

After unification, the two friends fell out. Chŏn was studying under an American professor who taught him to separate art from politics and pursue "art for art's sake" (예술지상주의), and Rim resented his friend's new reverence for American culture. Chŏn disagreed with Rim's political activism, his anti-Americanism and his full-throated opposition to the Syngman Rhee regime.

The trials of the war would soon reveal the true colors of the two men.

During the "strategic short-term retreat" (전략적인 일시적후퇴), Rim got recruited into the  National Security Command Choral Group (경비사령부협주단)  and went North with his sister. Chŏn joined their convoy, but they got caught up in a USAF strafing attack near Sunchŏn. They got separated in the confusion, and Jin Ae was shot.

For some time Rim did not know what became of his friend. Then one day, to his shock, Rim heard Chŏn's amplified voice from overhead.
   There was Chŏn Sang Ŭm, riding above their heads in an American helicopter, calling out to them by name and urging them all to "escape" to "the free world."
   This was the same Chŏn who had praised the North's land reform policy and cheered for the Northern performers (북반부예술인들) at the Bumingwan Concert Hall! How could he leave his beloved Jin Ae bleeding on a stretcher and go join the Americans? His blood boiled as he recalled his friend's admiration for American bourgeois culture.
The enemy opened fire and Rim was hit in the stomach and shoulder. Several days later, his sister Jin Ae died from her wounds.

Now, Rim confesses to KJI that he went to the Koryo Hotel but couldn't bring himself to confront his erstwhile friend. "No matter how bad things were, how could he desert his homeland and run off to play piano in a foreign country?"

KJI learns that Chŏn had left a letter for Rim at the Overseas Compatriots Office. He cancels all his important plans for the day and reads the letter.
Dear Jin Woo,
   I know what you must be feeling as you receive this letter, and of course your feelings are completely correct.
   But I write in hopes that, even if I can't be forgiven, I can at least offer some consolation to you and relieve some of the horrible guilt and pressure I have suffered over these many years. If you have any leftover affection deep in your heart, I beg you to hear what this miserable human has to say.
   I don't sleep much anymore. In my head I relive endless scenes from those days I spent living off your family's mercy. How we used to fight over our one ragged blanket, until one night you wrapped it completely around yourself. The next morning you were so apologetic... I'll never forget your kindness or the pure heart of Jin Ae, who gave her blood for my school fees.
   After the dream passes, I awake to terrible sorrow at what I cannot change...
   Jin Woo, do you remember? When I said I'd follow you north, you slapped my shoulder heartily as if you'd been worried. To be honest, what I was feeling at the time was total antipathy; I hated being swept up in the tide, just blowing this way and that. I went with you purely out of love and friendship.
   But on the road north I had time to coolly assess my situation. All the things we saw on the road - the streets and towns turned to rubble by American bombs, the corpses strewn all over the place, the crying baby clinging to its dead mother's' breast - I saw the true evil that lurks in the human heart and was chilled by the terrible force behind it. And then I worried what my life would be after it was over. You all seemed so certain that the People's Army would strike back and win, but I knew that either way more blood would flow. Which side would prevail, only time would tell; but I couldn't just drift along with it any more. I'd rather escape and seek solace in my music, free from ideological intrusions...
   I didn't get far on the road back to Seoul before I was detained by the Americans. The agent in charge of my case asked me to join the "open arms program" (귀순공작). Of course, I had no real choice...
   After that my life went smoothly, "without obstacles." I became a US citizen, created my own world of music, and gained adulation and riches. But I've never stopped secretly feeling deep sorrow and doubts about my life's meaning. It pours out of me during my long lonely nights at the piano keyboard, burying my mind in waves of emotion, and it's never left me through all these years.
   One year my concert tour took me to a certain country. We performed only one concert there, but the audience reaction was unexpectedly intense. It was the retirement concert of the great composer and cellist Rostropovich, who had once performed at the American White House.
   That day he performed all his greatest works, including his arrangement of the 2nd movement of Dvorak's New World Symphony. After he finished, someone asked why he was so attached to that piece.
Mstislav Rostropovich conducting the New York Philharmonic in April 2005.
Src: New York Times

   Rostropovich replied: Every artist hopes to create a masterpiece, but the opportunity comes maybe once in a lifetime. Why? Because art is the expression of all things human, and to create great art one must first refine one's humanity. If this work of mine gives you joy, it is probably because I composed it as a son's final farewell to Mother Russia.
   Later I learned that he had applied for permanent residency status during that visit to his homeland, hoping to live out his last years there. The Soviet officials refused his request, on the grounds that he turned his back on his homeland at its most difficult time and greatly aided the United States' anti-Soviet policies.
   But his words that day really shocked me. In that instant, I understood the source of the nameless oppressive feeling that had plagued me for so many years. Rostopovich had walked the path of anti-Soviet anti-communism, building an ivory tower to his own art, all because he, too, had sacred feelings that transcend ideology.
   From that day on I asked myself: Who is my art for? What is my music really about? How many of my creations can I really, unreservedly take pride in? Not one. It was all for myself, all these so-called "humanistic" (범인류적) works to dress-up the big powers' hegemonic ideology of "globalism" (대국의 패권적리념인 "세계화").
   I was filled with terrifying remorse. My conscience had negated everything I once took pride in.
   I gave up everything - performing, composing, music itself. My only task was to seek out my true self, right my wrongs, and start anew.
  So much time had passed. What had happened? That part of my homeland called "South Korea," which I had left in disgust, continued to wear the guise of an independent country, but everything that happened there aroused the same feelings of hatred in me as before. But the North was the opposite. The more I learned of the North's history, the clearer it became that its government truly gives its all for the people and humanity, just as we had experienced under the Republic's rule during the war. And the Northern Fatherland (북부조국) is truly a great country, a land whose people live with a noble mission and a strong will.
   And in its decades-long nuclear confrontation with the US, I saw the strength of the North's resolve.
   Jin Woo, I must make a shameful confession. When American jets, ships and missiles threatened the Republic and the nuclear tensions ran high, I sat in the corner of a back-country diner outside of Kansas City crying into my beer, bemoaning the weakness of my people. But the Republic spectacularly defied my expectations.
   When it withdrew from the NPT, and when it declared a quasi-war footing - Jin Woo, how can I express the passion and joy I felt? The earth-shaking developments continued to unfold, amazing the whole world.
  I couldn't figure it out. How can the nation that considers itself the "world's sole superpower," that thinks nothing of trampling a whole sovereign nation in a morning whenever it has a bellyache, be outmatched by this one tiny nation? Because of its military power? Well, that makes sense. The US and the Western powers all acknowledge the North's great military force. But that's not the true reason.
   Then one day when I was in Hong Kong for medical treatment, I saw an ad for the "Arirang" mass gymnastics performance and concert.
  It was just a few pages in a magazine, but it gave me a revelation. I felt the truth communicated through art, the truth of a spirit that stands up proudly before the whole world in its endless struggle for justice in the new century.
   Here were creators with a true understanding of the value of culture. I wanted to meet them immediately - all the more so when I saw that my old friend was among them. I had some worries because of our past, but I requested a meeting anyway.
   Jin Woo, what kind of human being am I? What right do I have to stand before you and talk about art and humanity?
   Once I saw a trout struggling to swim through some rapids, going upstream to lay its eggs. Its skin was torn and its scales were shredded.
   Back and forth it went, slowly losing energy. But finally, with a great push, it reached the top of the rapids. Thinking back on it, I figure I'm more worthless even than a trout. From what I hear, a trout knows where its home is and even goes hungry just to return there to lay eggs, bringing new life back to its birthplace.
   Even though I have been unfilial to my fatherland in everything, I can only hope you will hear my plea.
   I heard the whole story from the Overseas Compatriots' Office. About the horrible events that happened after I went south; about how you suffered false charges because of me. How could you meet me with an easy heart after that?
   It's too late now. I'm too imperfect a human to create art, and the sunset has deepened too far for me to redo my life. I wanted to face my shame and apologize to you a hundred times, but my crime is too great. My only wish is to call out "Jin Woo!" once more with all my soul, like in old times.
   I pray that Jin Ae is at peace. I pray that you are well.
   A sinful human,
   Chŏn Sang Ŭm.
Sword dance performance at Arirang Mass Games
Jin Woo is disturbed from his reverie to find himself staring blankly at the young dancers rehearsing on the field. A hopeful assistant choreographer asks his advice about a revision, but he waves her off, saying "Why are you asking someone who can't even get his own job done right?" He's been moody lately, blowing up at everyone.

Last week KJI read Chŏn's letter and returned it to Rim via the Ministry of Culture, along with a message: "Whether Jin Woo meets with his friend is not important. What matters is finding a way to deal with the problem of unification and the fate of our people. Tell him to search for the solution in his life, in the life paths of him and his American kyopo friend."

Taking the Leader's advice, Rim Jin Woo looks back over his life with an artist's eyes. The nation's division cut him off from his mother, he couldn't even write her a letter. When he finally visited the South for a separated families reunion, his nephew told him that she had cried out for him with her dying breath. He sobbed at her gravesite, remembering how she toiled wordlessly, stealing crusts to feed them and doing laundry to cover their school fees. During the war, he'd told her "The good times are here, so don't worry anymore. Soon I'll be a big man and you'll live in luxury." Those were the last words he said to her.

But really, his experience not so extraordinary. Everyone who lived through that time had a sad story to tell.

As winter deepens, KJI continues his ceaseless guidance tours around the country, visiting mines and mountain military bases, but he never neglects the Arirang planning. The Unification scene remains problematic.

One night on the road in to Pyongyang, he dispatches an aide to run to the stadium and fetch Rim Jin Woo. When Rim arrives, KJI has an impromptu roadside conference with him while his accompanying officers wait.

Rungrado May Day Stadium in Pyongyang, where the
Arirang performances are staged

When KJI asks him how the work is going, Rim confesses he's lost confidence, and begs to be taken off the job. KJI tells him "Don’t despair, every artist has these sort of problems." He then talks at length about the nature of art and human feelings.

He asks Rim what he felt when he read his old friend's letter; Rim responds, "I realized that even someone like that, in the end, is just seeking his own land." KJI tells him to ground his work in that idea, in the personal tragedies of division.

Rim finally feels inspired; pleased, KJI tells him to go back to work and “make ‘em cry.”

But Rim still lacks confidence and begs the leader for more specific advice on various scene elements. So KJI, after some teasing, hunkers down and offers his own detailed advice on song order, color, and background transitions.

In parting, KJI asks Rim again about reuniting with his old friend Chŏn Sang Ŭm. The Ministry of Culture has arranged for Rim to join its delegation to Austria next month so that he can meet Chŏn there. KJI encourages him to be magnanimous toward his reformed friend.

KJI is unsatisfied with the idea of a third-country meeting, and suggests giving Chŏn a special invite to attend Arirang and do a concert of his own works. “Then we’ll settle the score. Give him a little scolding. But don’t be too hard on him.”

One year later, Rim is reunited with Chŏn Sang Ŭm and they watch Arirang together. The story ends with Chŏn's glowing review of the performance.

Creative Differences: Politics in the Arts

The story highlights an important ideological difference between North and South: Where South Korean artists have largely fought to keep politics out of their creative process, North Korea disdains "the ideology of art for art's sake" (예술지상주의).

Chŏn and Rim have their initial falling out in colonial Seoul after Chŏn is seduced by American culture and decides to pursue "art free from politics." In his letter, the aged Chŏn looks back over his successful career in America and laments, "How many of my creations can I really, unreservedly take pride in? Not one. It was all for myself, all these so-called 'humanistic' (범인류적) works to dress-up the big powers' hegemonic ideology of 'globalism' (대국의 패권적리념인 '세계화')."

At the end, after Chŏn has finally been reunited with his friend and seen Arirang, he writes of the performance:
   “I’m endlessly amazed. Lofty political meaning expressed through art, refreshing art seasoned by politics; they seem as discordant as the Tristan Chord, and yet, hearing them together fills me with an irrepressible joy… Even Apollo, the god of art himself, could not produce such a work...”
Artistic differences were apparent at the first joint concert between North and South after cultural exchanges were initiated in 1985. Hwang Byung-ki wrote in Korea Focus:
   The response from each side to the music of the other was quite unfavorable. South Koreans spoke critically of North Korea's music and musical instruments for distorting tradition and betraying our nationality, while North Korea berated the South's music for its vestiges of feudalism. As such, the political situation of the time and the atmosphere of confrontation between the two Koreas spilled over into the exchange of art groups, as this effort indeed failed to promote reconciliation. 
It is of course important to remember that the South Korean state was not always as hands-off toward the creative arts. The Yushin dictatorship had its own "Cultural Five-Year Plan" and state-produced cultural ventures, particularly in film, painting and music. Perhaps because of this, in the democratic era South Koreans have become adept at sniffing out political subtext in their own cultural products.

Art through Suffering

The main characters in this story are both artists whose primary motivation is to create a "masterpiece" to last for all time. They repeatedly express the idea that the best artists are "refined through suffering" and suffering is needed to inspire great art. As Rostropovich says: "Every artist hopes to create a masterpiece, but the opportunity comes maybe once in a lifetime. Why? Because art is the expression of all things human, and to create great art one must first refine one's humanity."

After receiving Kim's guidance, Rim ponders what he considers the greatest revolutionary performances of his time – the five great revolutionary plays, the 13th Youth Festival, Arirang. "Extraordinary works of art only came from those who lived correct lives and had true love of people," he thinks.

After hearing of Rim's reluctance to meet Chŏn, KJI is very disappointed with his top choreographer. "A true revolutionary must be able to overcome issues of system or ideology, and acknowledge reality of our national struggle."

KJI encourages Rim to use his personal sorrows as inspiration in his work.
   “With any work of art, no matter what kind, if it fails to stir people emotionally it loses its purpose. But what is emotional impact (정서적감흥)? Is it not the true expression of real life? That’s why your work is stuck, because it lacks this element. Now, let’s look for elements of the 'unification scene' in your own life.
   “When I read your friend’s letter, I got a glimpse of your life... How did it feel, lugging around water pails on the streets as a child? What was it like going back to Seoul with the Family Reunion group? ... And what did you feel when you read your friend’s letter?
   “In your life there is the sorrow of the past and the pain of the present. But is that limited to just one person? No; as I said before, though each path may be different all of our people have come the same way; these officers here, you, and your friend."
Later on, when Rim still isn't getting it, KJI elaborates:
Childrens' gymnastics performance at Arirang Mass Games
“Listening to the main ‘Arirang’ theme the other day I really felt the tragedies of our people’s history. Yesterday the sorrow of having our country stolen, today the pain of division.
   “The sorrow you experienced as a child without a country, your mother who waited so many years and passed away without seeing you, your friend who finally found the truth as a grey-haired old man. Comrade Rim Jin Woo, I think you can express our nation’s sad history through your own life story, no more and no less.”
As usual, KJI has the right idea from the beginning, but he has to almost rub his lead choreographer's nose in it before the man takes the hint. It is easy to see how such a story is meant to inspire North Korean readers. If great suffering is necessary to create great art, then North Korea must have some of the greatest artists in the world.

National Reconciliation

From its theme of redemption and forgiveness, we can conjecture that this story (and the later novel) were aimed at both North Koreans and the extended Korean diaspora overseas. By following two characters who both originally came from Seoul, the story clearly promotes the North as the true homeland of all the Korean people, regardless of birthplace.

The story suggests that the Party will offer forgiveness towards those Koreans who seek it. At their roadside meeting, KJI tells Rim:
   “During the 13th Festival, when our Great Leader heard that the south was sending some religious groups and the National Council of Student Representatives (전대협), what did He say? No matter how extreme their anti-communist sentiment, no matter how great our differences, the feeling is still there. And the way to achieve unification is to revive that feeling of nationalism (민족애) in every heart; this is the truth of unification that transcends all ideology. To awaken them to their identity as Koreans, and to their love of their people. Comrade Jin Woo, wasn't that what brought a Korean American musician and native of the south to come and visit our Republic?"
After hearing that they have planned to meet at last in Austria, KJI again urges compassion:
   “Think how amazing it is, that he saw the truth after only experiencing a few months of life in our Republic. There are some who have done worse than him and been forgiven. How wonderful that he was able to visit his homeland finally in his old age. Just as floodwaters appear muddy in the rainy season, but the groundwater stays clean.
   “Jin Woo, they say a bowed head doesn’t get cut off. Be magnanimous, forget what’s past, and have an open mind.”
With the discursion about the composer Rostropovich getting denied Soviet citizenship, the story warns diaspora readers that they should turn back to the homeland before it is too late. It also hints that, unlike the Soviet Union, North Korea is willing to take a more compassionate attitude toward its many prodigal sons and daughters, if they return now.

Through this story, the Party seems to be sending the message that Koreans are still welcome in the DPRK no matter how many years they've spent in the decadent capitalist world (particularly those who found fortune and fame in their years abroad).

Notes and Links

"Bumper Year Comes to Chŏngsanbŏl" (청산벌에 풍년이 왔네) is the final passage of the North Korean orchestral suite "청산리 사람들", an important 1960s-era work of hybrid folk/modern music combining traditional Korean percussive instruments with modern Western opera instruments. Though the composer passed away over 40 years ago, North Korea's Naenara website published a lengthy epitaph to him in English in 2013. A 2011 performance can be viewed here.

According to this article, 룡강기나리 is a kind of folk melody beloved by North Korean singers that evokes the peasant traditions of South Pyŏngan Province. It has been used as the base melody for several orchestral arrangements, including "Bumper Year Comes to Chŏngsanbŏl." A concert performance by the South Korean Bulsechul Ensemble can be viewed here.

The "Arirang" Mass Games had been a key part of North Korea's foreign tourism outreach every year from 2001 to 2013, after which they abruptly stopped. They returned in 2018 with  a brand new show titled “Bright Fatherland” (빛나는 조국), which was attended by South Korean President Moon Jae-in. An abridged version of the performance and Moon's entrance can be viewed here. On 38 North, Andray Abrahamian posted an excellent summary of how the new show differs from those of the past.