Seo Taiji 1992-2004: South Korean popular music and masculinity (my master's thesis)
© Janet Hilts 2006 - please note: this is not the final version of my thesis.
The final theme I will discuss which has factored prominently into discourses of masculinity in South Korea is competition with ‘western’ men and their masculinities. The “Hayôga” video presents this theme with clarity and force. Like the themes of fraternity and remasculinization, competition with ‘western’ masculinities makes “Hayôga” ambiguous in terms of hegemonic masculinity.
The theme of competition with ‘western’ masculinities is often an important component of remasculinization discourses in South Korea. This competition theme reflects and produces both masculine strength and subjectivity and masculine anxiety or what Kim Kyung Hyun refers to as “masculine lack” (Kim K. H., 2004:9-10, 19-26). The competition theme is displayed plainly in the “Hayôga” music videos’ narrative where the Boys’ dance takes centre stage. The combination of this theme’s assertion of masculine strength and subjectivity and “masculine lack” is revealed when “Hayôga” is examined in conjunction with masculinity and the 2002 World Cup.
South Korean remasculinization narratives have often been connected throughout their history to nationalism and xenophobia (Choi, 1998; Jager, 1996). Specifically, men’s strength and subjectivity have been linked to standing up to foreign males, often in defence of Korean women and, symbolically, the Korean nation (Choi, 1998; Jager, 1996). Drawing on Robinson’s (1984) work on the history of race and nationalism in Korea, Jager (1996) traces how this theme of masculine strength has its origins in the historical writings of Sin Ch'ae-ho (1880-1936), and has continued with few impediments up into the 1990s. Choi (1998) makes similar observations and writes:
[a]ll Korean women, as the discourse of homogeneous single-nation (tanil minjok) mandates, are expected to be chaste and vigilant against foreign males, and by extension, masculine foreign power” and Korean men retain control of "their" women in an attempt to remasculinize themselves from the emasculinization of colonization (14).
Jager and Choi’s analysis illustrate the tenacity of the theme of competition with foreign, often ‘western’ males to Korean remasculinization discourses. This theme circulates in films from the 1990s such as Silver Stallion (Ûnma nûn oji annûnda, dir. Chang Kil-su, 1991) (Kim K.H., 2004:81-87) as well as in public discourses circulating around the Korean soccer team’s success in the 2002 World Cup. It also circulates on the Internet today and is often angrily directed against foreign men who are seen in public with young Korean women (Purcell, 2005).[12]
THE “HAYÔGA” DANCE COMPETITION: MASCULINITY LOST AND REGAINED
East Asian male popular music stars’ appropriation of ‘western’, often African- American popular culture is often viewed in terms of its post modernist feel (e.g. Hosakawa, 2002) rather than the power relations at hand. The narrative of the “Hayôga” video however, make us keenly aware of the pervasiveness of power relations, often ‘western’ versus ‘Korean’, which factor into constructions of young Korean men’s masculinity. The narrative of the “Hayôga” video outlines quite plainly a story of young Korean males losing their masculinity by being ridiculed by ‘westerners’ and then regaining it upon gaining these ‘westerners’ respect. Although at first glance it may appear that Taiji and Boys, and especially the Boys, command the power in the video by impressing everyone with their dancing skills, in fact the westerners’ opinions of the Koreans propel the video forward. Indeed the westerners’ opinion of the Koreans’ dancing is what provides a reason for the Boys’ dance.
From the start of the video, the American who appears to be the leader of the three young Americans, gazes disapprovingly at the group of Korean youths dancing. His disapproval compels him and his friends to show the Koreans how to dance. As the Americans come to the dance floor, the Korean youths who had been dancing, step aside as if overwhelmed and form a circle around the Americans. The Americans then begin to dance and show-off their superior dancing skills. At this point, one Korean sneaks away to phone Taiji, and asks him to come and set things right. When they arrive and the Boys begin to dance energetically, the Americans’ view of the Koreans still remains central to the video. Immediately after the Boys begin to dance, the camera cuts to the Americans sitting at the bar, where the leader who is watching the Boys, nods his head approvingly saying, “That’s great man. Ahhh man.” At this point, the video becomes less narrative in structure, and follows the structure of the song with various scenes showcasing the Boys’ dancing skill. Other scenes focus on Taiji and Boys’ rapping while hanging out with the Koreans and Americans in the bar. The short scene of the American’s approving gaze is very important. It allows the video, and the Boys’ dancing, to continue and it assures the viewer that the Boys’ dancing is indeed worth watching. The Boys, and Taiji as well, can then proceed (with confidence) and the Korean youths, as the viewers of the video, can look on with confidence that the Boys and Taiji will reassert strength, skill and pride to the humiliated and ridiculed Korean youths. With their masculinity intact, the youths, along with Taiji and the Boys, can now hangout with the Americans, such as shown at 1:40 and 3:29, without fear of humiliation or ridicule.
WHAT’S THE SCORE?
This theme of masculine humiliation (emasculation) and finally recuperation (remasculinization) through competition with ‘western’ males reveals both Korean (masculine) strength and anxiety. Because men’s competing through the physicality of dance suggests similarity with sports, I have considered how masculinity construction in the 2002 World Cup (soccer) can help shed some light on this contradiction.
From analyzing reception of Korean women’s fandom during the 2002 World Cup, Kim H.M. (2004) exposes that much is still at stake when Korean men compete with ‘western’ men on a public stage. The young women’s intense enthusiasm including “insatiable heterosexual hollers for the Korean soccer team” were widely praised and accepted as expressions of patriotism and nationalism but, as Kim writes:
[I]f Korean women’s enthusiasm had mostly been directed at handsome Western soccer players, such as England’s Beckham or Owen, Portugal’s Figu, Italy’s Toti or Spain’s Morientes, the situation would have been drastically different. That they zealously applauded … the familiar handsome guys of Korea such as Ahn Jeong-Hwan, Kim Nam-Il and Song Jong-Guk, must have been the chief reason for the positive response the Korean women fans got from the rest of the society. The story that they came to like Kim Nam-Il because he ‘stood his ground’, one on nine against American players is commended as a healthy response of indigenous Koreans who are no longer scared of, or feel small next to, the West. The attitude of the Korean media that looks down on Japanese women for expressing their love for Beckham and treats them as ‘ppasun-i’s, clearly shows what line the Korean women should not dare cross (Kim, 2004:6-7).
The reception of the Korean women’s enthusiasm for the Korean players and their success in competition against ‘western’ teams, points to the intensity still present when Korean males (and masculinity) are in competition with their ‘western’ counterparts. Like Kim Nam-il, the Boys in the “Hayôga” video stand their ground against the American players (dancers)—not feeling scared or looking small next to the ‘west’—and in-so-doing reassert their power and strength, remasculinize themselves. Even in competition with ‘western’ masculinity, the video and soccer reception seems to be saying, the young Korean men were able to assert a powerful masculinity and command the respect and admiration of fans and viewers.
Upon second glance however, the intensity of the reception of the female soccer fans and the in-your-face narrative of the “Hayôga” video simultaneously suggests masculine anxieties. On the theme of Korean masculinities in competition with ‘western’ masculinities, Kim K.H. (2004) has been particularly critical of anxieties revealed in films, most notably in Chilsu and Mansu [Ch’il-su wa Man-su](1988, dir. Park Kwang-su). On the scene where Ch’il-su, one young male protagonist, is watching Rocky IV in a movie theatre with the girl he likes, Kim writes:
The image of powerful Rocky creates narcissistic fantasies for Ch'il-su as if the object on screen were his own reflection. But for this to be fetishized, Ch'il-su also must simultaneously recognize and disavow his identity, which is fraught with personal traumas . . . His mimicry of Sylvester Stallone's Rocky as well as other Hollywood male stars is pitiful because these images only further inscribe the anxiety of a colonized, emasculated, working-class man without a family. [¶] This scene in the movie theatre and Ch'il-su's imitations of his other heroes such as Marlon Brando and James Dean punctuate the crisis of masculinity, a master trope Park constantly weaves throughout his films (Kim, 2004:137).
Although this example of Ch’il-su’s imitation of American stars is quite different from the Boys appropriation of American hip-hop dance in “Hayôga” — namely Ch’il-su is a failure, fantasizing and the Boys are actually skilled dancers—it raises questions about the placement of the Americans in the music video. The incessant talk over the female soccer fans enthusiasm for the Korean players (and the negative portrayal of Japanese female fans’ enthusiasm for ‘western’ stars) and the in-your-face narrative of competition in the “Hayôga” video seems to be a cover-up, hiding “lack” or anxiety. Blatantly framing the video with this narrative where Taiji and Boys’ come to the bar to impress the Americans with an American derived dance style, recalls the anxieties in Ch’il-su’s mimicry. Although I would certainly not go so far as to say the Koreans’ need to impress the Americans in the “Hayôga” video is pitiful, as Kim suggests Ch’il-su’s actions are, they certainly point to Korean masculine anxiety. This anxiety suggests the “Hayôga” video narrative inscribes masculine anxiety as it reasserts a strong, confident, masculine subjectivity. As such, the video is ambiguous and contradictory in its expression of young men’s masculinities.
Conclusion
Examining “Hayôga” in terms of fraternity, remasculinization and competition with ‘western’ masculinity reveals numerous masculinities at work in its performances. Young men’s masculinities are negotiated in these performances through their various components including new and noisy elements of the song, filming techniques of the video, hip hop style dancing, performers used in each performance and the narrative of the music video. An amalgamation of performance layers and parameters, “Hayôga” performances reveal, despite being ‘simply pop song performances’, the complexity that is young South Korean men’s masculinity. In this account, pop music performances aid our understanding of young South Korean men’s masculinity especially its precarious position between normative conservative or hegemonic masculinity and alternatives. When I consider “Hayôga” performances in this way, I become wary of thinking about Korean youth culture as homogeneous or transparent, especially in regards to gender. The plurality of masculinities offered by “Hayôga” performances―those of closed male fraternities, noisy youthful rebelliousness, physical competitiveness, with confidence and subjectivity, or with anxiety―help to break down essentialist notions of being a young man in South Korea. “Hayôga” performances also problematize the conservative versus progressive binary that often informs writing on South Korean youth culture (e.g. Cho Han, 2004). Even in performances of this shinsaedae anthem―a symbol of progressive Korean culture―there are elements of conservative parent culture, most notably the exclusion of female public participation and masculine anxiety.
[12] It may appear to some highly educated younger Koreans that the anger directed at foreign males out in public with young Korean females is not widespread and is administered by a minority of Koreans. However from my own experiences knowing foreign men with Korean girlfriends (or even just friends), this anger is commonplace and widespread. In fact, I had a colleague who gave up riding the subway with his girlfriend in Seoul altogether because of the anger directed at him by Korean passengers from all walks of life, and eventually moved back to England with her partly to escape the constant harassment in public. (It should be noted that he understood Korean well and therefore knew what people were saying or yelling at him).