will introduce basic musical forms such as ternary, rondo, sonata, theme and variations, and strophic. In fact, learning to identify musical forms may be one of the first sets of musicological skills that nonmusicians (or non-music majors) will take away from a Western music survey course. Forms can be useful pedagogical tools; they provide students with concise models to understand how certain musical works are organized.
Yet, formal analysis in music can also be fraught. As musicologist Mark Evan Bonds reminds us, musical form is merely an abstraction. Forms are reductive schemas; they “function as a priori ideal types to which a given work can be compared” (Bonds 2010, 265). The study of musical form, as music educator Edward Brookhart put it, has often been approached from the standpoint of deriving “conventional, static structural patterns” from the works of the “great” composers of Western music (1964, 91). Graying musical textbooks present patterns or models that have become reified and endowed with a fixity that students may view in uncritical terms. Thus, the practice of formal analysis in music—excavating form as object—concomitantly raises thorny issues surrounding the value that is arbitrarily placed on formal exemplars, the hierarchies in Western art music, and the implication that Western music is superior to other kinds of musical traditions from around the world.
But other questions soon follow. What is the standard upon which an “ideal form” is based? And when a musical composition deviates from an idealized form, how should we evaluate the work? Lastly, how might we reconcile the practice of locating “objects”—detached and disembodied—with a more productive and humanistic formal analysis? While it is not my intention to resolve these questions in this manuscript, this book intervenes in traditional music formalist studies with its unequivocal commitment to ethnography—thus offering a variation on an old music-analytical theme: form and ethnographic analysis.
AN ETHNOGRAPHY OF SAMUL NORI
In Dynamic Korea, I am concerned with the ways in which musical forms serve as entry points for the intercultural appreciation and acquisition of musical genres. The rhythm-based form of samul nori serves as this book’s primary focus. In particular, I pay ethnographic attention to people with little or no formal training in music. These nonmusicians, whom I will often refer to as enthusiasts, begin a process of learning how to play music outside that of their own culture. Whereas linguistic, harmonic, or modal forms require various degrees of cultural translation and training, a rhythm-based form, I maintain, offers a point of entry that privileges the sonic and the somatic. It is this rhythmic form that guides amateur enthusiasts on their transformative path from musical appreciation (or zealous fandom in some cases) to active musical performance of samul nori.
This monograph is far from the only study of the SamulNori quartet or, to a lesser extent, the samul nori genre. Prior studies have highlighted the quartet’s rise to popularity, the complex relationship to “tradition,” the politics of innovation, and canon formation (e.g., Hesselink 2012; Howard 2006, 2015; Kim Hŏnsŏn 1995; Park, Shingil 2000). Yet conspicuously absent in this literature is multi-sited ethnographic research of samul nori and a consideration of its global journeys. By presenting this ethnographic, multi-sited study of samul nori alongside formal analysis, Dynamic Korea endeavors to join a larger conversation on global music genres and contribute a theorization on the power and portability of rhythmic forms in circulation.
The foundations for this project began over a decade ago. In 2003, I worked as the overseas coordinator for Kim Duk Soo’s SamulNori Hanullim—one of the premier samul nori ensembles in South Korea. Kim Duk Soo [Kim Tŏksu], as we will learn in chapter 1, was one of the founding members of the SamulNori quartet, which gave rise to the samul nori genre. In addition to working on numerous performances and festivals in South Korea, I served as tour manager for Samul-Nori Hanullim’s three-week tour of Denmark (Copenhagen, Randers, Skive) in August 2003, and I assisted in the planning of the 2004 U.S. tour. I translated program notes, handled correspondence with presenters in Europe, Asia, and the United States, and interpreted at various public events. Much of what I have learned about the samul nori genre and its global iterations has come directly from my own experiences as a former staff member of the ensemble, interacting with many members of the SamulNori community as well as international samul nori enthusiasts. During field research in South Korea (August 2008–November 2009), I utilized this existing network to conduct over thirty interviews with founding members of the SamulNori quartet, former managing directors, and members of the SamulNori Hanullim troupe. I also became acquainted with several amateur samul nori ensembles that participated in the World SamulNori Festival and Competition in South Korea in October 2008. At the festival, I volunteered as a coordinator and translator for over one hundred participants from eleven countries. I was able to interview several leaders of the ensembles, as well as visit some of the groups in their respective countries (e.g., Mexico, United States, France, Belgium, and Japan) in the years following (Lee, Katherine In-Young 2017). I continue to consult for and assist SamulNori Hanullim. I have written essays on SamulNori for concert programs, and I also helped to arrange lectures and master classes with Kim Duk Soo and SamulNori Hanullim at Harvard University and at UC Davis (November 2011 and March 2014, respectively).
CHAPTER SUMMARIES
Chapter 1 tells the story of the early reception of the SamulNori quartet and the development of the samul nori genre. Unlike other genres of traditional Korean music, samul nori has a specific place and point of origin that can be traced back to the Space Theater (Konggan Sarang) in Seoul in 1978. The genre began as a musical experiment when four musicians decided to recontextualize and “stage” the rhythmic cycles derived from p’ungmul—an older genre of rural band percussion music and dance that was part of the social fabric of life when Korea was a preindustrialized, agrarian society. The success of the experimental collaboration eventually led to requests for performances within and outside South Korea. Beginning in the early 1980s, SamulNori toured extensively on the world music circuit in North America, Europe, and Japan. Within the span of a few years, the repertory and performance style of the quartet became so popular that its specific brand of percussion music inspired the classification of a new genre of music in South Korea—a genre that took the quartet’s name.
Chapter 1 brings focus to the quartet’s spirit of experimentation and the process of musical arranging that develops into a repertory. Drawing on interviews that I have conducted with members of the SamulNori community as well as a substantial archive of published materials, I show how the unexpectedly enthusiastic reception of SamulNori and samul nori was connected to the Space Theater and the Konggan Project.
Chapter 2 reflects on one of the most popular samul nori compositions that is learned by amateur enthusiasts around the world. I provide an analysis of the formal properties of “Yŏngnam nongak,” which is an arrangement of rhythmic patterns drawn from the p’ungmul regional variant that comes from southeastern Korea. Although it is an introductory-level piece, it features many of the formal elements that are common to other samul nori pieces—a modular formal structure, a general progression from complex rhythmic cycles to ones more simplified and compressed, and significant contrasts between tempi, volume, and levels of energy exerted in performance. Based on recordings of the piece made by the SamulNori quartet, notation that was published by SamulNori Hanullim, and audiovisual materials, I analyze how the rhythm-based form in “Yŏngnam nongak” exhibits these aforementioned properties. In this chapter, I develop the term “dynamic” as an analytic to think through the ways in which the rhythmic form in samul nori compositions features a series of contrasting yet balancing forces. These built-in moments of dramatic change draw in listeners on a sonic level and also assist in the learning of a sequence of different rhythmic cycles. This chapter asserts that samul nori’s rhythmic form is a dynamic musical form. As such, it has elicited a response that has moved well beyond its original local context.
