How to experience traditional South Korean culture

In the 1960s, only a few years after the destruction of the Korean War, South Korea began putting an official classification on its most cherished crafts, customs and celebrations. Known as National Intangible Cultural Heritage, the designation has since been applied to almost 150 practices, from hemp-weaving to masked dances. Collectively, they give visitors the chance to learn more about somewhere that still places huge value on its traditions, even as the destination itself changes and evolves.

Admire elegant architecture

Derived from mokjang, an old Korean word for ‘carpenter’, the term daemokjang describes a hugely skilled form of wooden architecture, as well as the master artisan-architects responsible for it. As part of the centuries-old technique, lumber is first cut and shaved, then slotted into place and interlocked without nails. The results are so strong, they’re known as ‘joints to last a millennium’.

Examples of daemokjang can be found across Korean regions and social classes, ranging from traditional hanok-style houses to royal palaces in the capital and monumental mountain temples. They tend to be undecorated, their beauty — like much of Korean architecture — lying instead in their majestic size, elegant simplicity and surprising longevity.

Learn about society with a Masked dance

It looks, at first, like a kind of bawdy pantomime. Costumed characters parade on stage, donning grinning, rosy-cheeked wooden masks. They sneer and mock, flirt and dupe. Traditional dances of this kind are common across South Korea — and in places like UNESCO-listed Hahoe (pronounced ‘Hah-hway’), in the south east of the country, they’re about more than just a bit of fun.

Founded in the 14th century, the village sits in a snaking bend of the Nakdong River, among open fields and wide hills. It draws more than a million visitors a year thanks to this scenic location — as well as its folk traditions, including this ritual, with roots dating back some 800 years.

It combines popular entertainment with social commentary, poking fun at the old Korean class system. Of the 12 original mask designs used in the performance, three have been lost to time, meaning there are now nine recurring characters. They all represent a figure in local society, from a gossipy grandmother and meddling merchant to a lecherous monk. Dark comedy ensues.

If elsewhere the masks are traditionally burned after each performance, to exorcise the demons thought to possess them, in Hahoe they’re handed down through the generations. Some are now even designated as national treasures in their own right.

Legend has it they were originally made by a local craftsman who received divine instructions in a dream. Commanded to construct them out of view of anyone else, he shuttered himself away. His work was cut short when his lover peeked into his workshop, breaking the god-given conditions and killing him there and then. This is why, it’s said, the mask of the village fool remains half-finished.

Each dance is generally accompanied by a taepyeongso (a reed instrument similar to a small oboe) and a band of percussionists playing drums and gongs. The result is a lively but fiercely satirical look at the underbelly of Korean society.

Be moved by a heartfelt musical tradition

If you find K-pop a bit too sugary, this earnest artform provides something of an antidote. Pansori is a type of musical storytelling typically narrated by a vocalist, solo but for an accompanying buk (barrel-drum). They perform on a empty stage, with only a wooden fan by way of props. And they can hold an audience for up to eight hours at a time.

Pansori first found an audience in the country’s south west during the 17th century. Initially aimed at working people, many of whom couldn’t read stories on paper, it eventually adopted a more literary approach and became favoured by the elite.

Today, just like then, the singers — who must memorise reams of lyrics and deliver them at volume — undergo extensive training. And while they no longer add personal, improvised touches like they used to, in an effort to preserve the original narratives, the emotion remains. Gestures and expressions add to the drama, while the drum builds tension. The tales can be mournful or thrilling, but you can expect a happy ending.

Take part in an all-out Buddhist festival

A Buddhist festival, Baekjung is a chance to remember and celebrate the deceased. It’s observed in different ways among devotees across the country and beyond, but nowhere more impressively than in the southeastern city of Miryang.

In this former farming community, the festival has agricultural undertones, too, and mixes carnival-like festivities with shamanic practice. White-clad participants — in the past, servants who’d been given the day off — undertake a series of ritual prayers and offerings for a bountiful harvest, accompanied by frantic drum music. Celebrations then turn to merrymaking, with a traditional type of farmer dance closing the day.

Geumbakjang gold-leaf imprinting

‘Painstaking’ is the word that comes to mind when witnessing geumbakjang, the Korean art of gold-leaf imprinting. The country’s nobility started advertising its status using gold as far back as the early years of the Joseon dynasty, an era that began in 1392. And what better way of showing your prestige than adorning the very clothes you wear?

The practice involves imprinting everything from silken headpieces to ceremonial robes with repeated patterns of radiant gold, and it requires serious skill and focus. Multiple layers of wafer-thin gold leaf are laid onto fabrics using specially cut woodblocks, with not a single wrinkle permitted. Lotus-flower patterns are common, as are lines of shimmering poetry. The end results are suitably lustrous — the very definition of dazzling wealth.   

Yugijang

Making even the choicest crockery look dull by comparison, yugijang (also known as bangjja) is the ancient art of hand-forged bronzeware. The method involves heating a bronze alloy — with a far higher proportion of tin than normal — over fire, then pounding it into shape to create a thin, firm and gleaming product. The bronze is said to retain heat far more effectively than other materials, while repeated use makes it burnished rather than discoloured.

Dating — perhaps unsurprisingly — from as long ago as the Bronze Age, it later became the favoured tableware technique of choice for Korean high society, with a complete set including bowls, dishes, spoons and chopsticks. Korean royal court cuisine, which often comprises twelve opulent courses and also features as National Intangible Cultural Heritage, is routinely served using bangjja bowls and dishes. The respect afforded to the artform means some pieces are now even hung on walls as decorative objects.