R16 - More than just dancing

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kc1k9OrP2dw]

R-E-S-P-E-C-T. That’s what the “R” in “R-16” stands for. The R-16 is an annual event held in Korea where the world’s top b-boys battle each other for the title of world’s best.

Crews representing  Switzerland, Australia, USA, Russia, China, Taiwan, Japan, and Korea stood present, ready to duel one another for the championship. But before the crew battle took place, a performance battle preceded the main event.

Each crew prepared a showcase to razzle dazzle both the audience and the judges. And it worked. Everyone in the crowd roared in cheer and jumped up and down in place as the beats of the music blasted through their entire bodies. From old school hip hop to modern dubstep, the crews executed their moves to their own beats as they flew through the air. Though each country performed their utmost and showed the audience what b-boy was all about, it was Russia’s Predatorz crew that took first place in the Performance Battle.

[caption id="attachment_2059" align="aligncenter" width="608"] Pictured: razzle dazzle[/caption]

The Crew Battle that immediately followed really showed off each nation’s b-boy talent. In the first round, China’s Jokester crew went up against USA’s Super Cr3w; Australia’s SKB crew faced Korea’s own Gamblerz crew; Double Kill of Taiwan battled Japan’s infamous Body Carnival; and the Swiss crew, KFM, went head to head against Russia’s notorious Predatorz crew. Each crew battled with ferocity and tenacity, but in the end, the top two winners of the knockout tournament stood against each other – Gamblerz vs. Predatorz.

[caption id="attachment_2061" align="aligncenter" width="551"] The final battle between Gamblerz and Predatorz[/caption]

You could really feel the heat of the battle emanating from their bodies. Neither crew backed down as they repeatedly pulled off incredible moves like air tracks, shoulder spins, and head spins.

Once the noise from the crowd abated, the president of the R16 organization stepped onto the stage. The finalists stood on either side of him, tensed and hoping to hear their crew’s name as the champions. For what felt like a year, silence rang through the entire stadium.

“The winner of the R16 Korea 2014 is… Gamblerz crew!”

[caption id="attachment_2062" align="aligncenter" width="484"] The Gamblerz crew is beside themselves in happiness[/caption]

The stadium blew up as every Korean audience member cheered in unison. The Gamblerz crew members jumped up and down in utter ecstasy, and some members even had tears flowing from their eyes. Gamblerz crew had faced many hardships throughout their long b-boy career, but it was all worth it, just to be able to enjoy that moment of happiness and cheerfulness.

IDigCulture had the opportunity to interview Gamblerz crew after the battle. The following are comments directly from the Gamblerz crew.

Comments translated from Korean to English by Scott Song.

 

[caption id="attachment_2063" align="aligncenter" width="481"] The crew shows off their R16 Champions rings[/caption]

 

IDC: How do you feel about winning the tournament?

Gamblerz: We are very happy. It was a kind of comeback. We re-gathered together after a long break thinking that the coming 12 years are more important than the past 12 years. Very luckily, we could win this honorable tournament and we are very satisfied with these great results.

 

IDC: When did you feel the most nervous during the competition?

Gamblerz: We felt most nervous at the very last round of the tournament because we poured out entire heart into what we have done such as practices. Waiting for the result was really suspenseful.

 

IDC: Which crew did you worry about the most?

Gamblerz: I think the most powerful team was Predatorz. We imagined our battle against this crew during practices. We kept thinking that it might be the hardest battle. As we expected, we faced the crew and became very nervous during the entire battle.

 

IDC: What were some of the challenges you faced?

Gamblerz: During our preparation for the R16, many members were injured and our whole team was very worried. But we could be on the stage cheering because of our fans. Even though we won the R16 Korea, we can lose next time. But we will get over the hardships and do our best. Gamblerz will go on and Gamblerz will continue to exist even after 10 or 20 years.

 

The R16 World Finals is a great competition, where crews from around the world participate in heated b-boy battles. However, it also has great cultural values. People from around the globe travel to watch support their native crews, but in the process, they have the opportunity to mix and mingle with people from different corners of the world. These spectators rouse around this world event and learn to socialize and at the very least sample cultures they’ve never seen before. The international crews communicate with one another in a way that language barriers cannot prevent: dancing.

The way the b-boys and b-girls express their hearts and souls on the battle requires no verbal communication. Through their bodies, they speak their minds and present themselves to the other crews. In a society where smartphones and other technological advances are slowly but surely replacing human interaction vis-à-vis, the R16 shows us the best way we can respect each other is by physically expressing ourselves.

Korean Indie Music Scene: Better than K-Pop

Why is there so much continental rage about K-pop and its flashy arcade sounds? Even here in America… children, students, and adults lust after the K-pop sounds, fashions, and even ‘lifestyle’.  I can’t help but relate K-pop and its major recording artists to those here working under major recording labels in the United States… to me this all spells: mainstream music. Mainstream isn't all that bad, but finding really great music outside of the brainwashing music systems, is like finding gold in a world of cheap dollar stores. This is what listening to indie music is like. And to experience the indie music scene is even better; it’s like tasting the gold.

This all bring me back to my first semester at the University; I had given a presentation on Clear Channel radio and its sub part, iHeartRadio, in front of my first Media and Communications class. I presented on the particular company, their marketing strategies, the positioning of popular artists and bands, the amount of airplay given, and mentioned a few other major record companies. I made it a point to discuss the very many personal issues I had at that time: that it is much more difficult for independent artists to make it into the mainstream music world; that independent artists were much more artistic, brave, and hardworking than those that sang on our everyday radios; that major record labels, and even Clear Channel radio, were trying to regurgitate what independent artists were creating, and then would use and sell it as new major productions for auto-tuned-using artists. Plus, it was so obvious that major recording artists did not have as much creative freedom as the courageous indie artists! Indie music generates future genres and therefore plays a key role in our world’s musical history! I remember feeling so passionate for the independent artists and engineers who didn’t stand much of a chance for the radio or success; for the indie band scene and all the bands that my friends played in. I also remember feeling extremely annoyed and frustrated that the class didn't seem to understand just why and how Clear Channel and other major record label companies were ‘ruining’ the music world.

Well, after four years, I've come to terms that without one, there cannot be the other. Without mainstream music, there would not be room for the independent artists and a fun escape for experimental music lovers. And ultimately, there would not be Korean indie music without K-pop.

I've learned that although independent record labels and artists do not always see as much popularity and radio time as their counterpart, they can sometimes expect more financial success, [but this doesn't mean they are always financially lucrative]. This is because major recording artists spend a lot of money on their royalties. This includes: album artwork and album packaging, tour support, and video production. Because independent artists produce, record, and advertise their music themselves, they have fewer royalties and costs of production. And to me, it makes indie music, from any area around the world, so much more special.

For this article, I was to brush up on Korean indie music and its scene. After a quick but through introduction and a few listening-dates with Korean indie music, I became a hooked K-indie fan. I've spread the word like wildfire about the fun, sometimes sad, but always experimental music. However, even still with today’s technology and social media, not enough people know about Korean indie music or indie music in general for that matter. This has a lot to again with the promotion, positioning, marketing, financial status, and advertising of the artist or band. It is difficult for Americans and other people living in other countries to lend an ear to all of Korea’s booming indie artists as not all of their music is made available to other foreign public. Although there is  a lot of Korean indie music online today, a ton of independent Korean artists do not have their music on worldwide music outlets such as iTunes or YouTube. This makes the Korean indie scene so much more special and fresh… there is still some secret and innocence of it all.

The Korean indie music scene is built of a community of localized indie-music-loving bands and artists. The style of music varies from experimental hip-hop, r&b, soul, electronic, some folk and vintage. The sounds you’ll hear are typically guitars, monophonic synthesizers, minimal bass lines, loose drumming, obscured vocals, distortion or layering of multiple tracks, unconventional sounds, and sometimes brassy wavelengths.

What I found so cool and refreshing about Korean indie music was that I had absolutely no idea what they were saying, but yet completely understood the meaning of the song and could even relate to some. I also really loved that there were so many female artists! Some artists that I really enjoyed were Nell, Taru, Clazziquai Project, Lucite Tokki, and Savina + Drones. Even more, I absolutely loved a lot of the music videos for the songs being played.

Here are some examples:

Clazziquai Project – Can’t Go Own My Own

Nell – Slip Away

Savina + Drones – Stay

Taru - Daydream

Indie Music is Everywhere! Although Korean indie music may be my new favorite, don’t hold yourself back from hearing sounds from independent artists and bands from around the world!

The United States is a hot spot for old and new independent recording artists! From Seattle, Washington to the various cities of New York… Omaha, Nebraska to Austin, Texas… Provo, Utah and Baltimore, Maryland… just to name a small few popular cities that are well-known for their indie music artists and bands.

Japan also has a ton of indie music and recording artists. The area has a very active ‘punk’ indie scene.

Europe is also covered with amazing indie artists and bands. The United Kingdom was in fact the first place to really term what “indie” meant in 1986. And then there is Sweden, Belgium, various indie rock festivals in France and Germany, Spain, the Netherlands, and so, so, so much more.

Australia’s Melbourne takes the win of being the biggest hot spot for indie rock music as it provides the largest music scene than any other city in the world! But you should still check out Australia’s Sydney, Brisbane, and Perth!

 

A few other places to look for Korean indie music (and other various independent artists), is through:

www.koreanindie.com, www.8tracks.com, www.pandora.com, www.youtube.com

Korea’s Masochistic Musical Tradition?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p6egKWHMpLc

“Real pansori singers practice so hard that they spit up blood,” my Korean teacher, who tended to be exceptionally interested and well versed in art and history, asserted in class one day last year.

Whether a statement of fact or just one of the many benign national myths that I have encountered escaping from the mouths of foreign-language instructors in various countries, it was certainly enough to get me interested in pansori. Ten points for my teacher.

Pansori, a homegrown Korean musical style that literally means “sounds of the pan,” an open space used for community gatherings, consists of a (presumably very intense) main singer, called a guangdae (광대) or simply soriggun (소리꾼), usually a woman, who sing-chants a dramatic story, along with the accompaniment of a drummer, or gosu (고수). Her performance integrates narration (아니리/aniri), movement (발림/ballim), and, of course, extremely demanding singing over a wide vocal range (소리/sori). The art first began appearing within guilds of traveling performers during the Choseon period (1392-1897), but documentation of its origins and traditions was not consistent. As such, many of its productions, including seven of what are considered to be a canon of twelve performances, have been lost. [1]

The remaining five productions comprise a range of historical and fictional themes, from war and poverty to romance and talking rabbits. Spoiler alert. Chunhyangga (春香歌/춘향가) or “song of Chunhyang,” weaves social and political commentary into a story about a marriage to a local magistrate. [2] Jeokbeokga (赤壁歌/적벽가), or “song of the red cliff,” details the battle of the red cliff as immortalized in the Yuan/Ming Dynasty Chinese classic Romance of the Three Kingdoms (三国演义/San Guo Yan Yi) or samgukji (三國志/삼국지) as it is known in Korea. [3] This is an enduring and culturally important legend also recently depicted in the 2009 Chinese blockbuster Red Cliff (赤壁/Chìbì). Simcheongga (沈淸歌/심청가), or “song of Simcheong,” is a tragic story about the familial love between an impoverished girl Simcheong and her blind father. [4] Heungboga (興甫歌/흥보가), or “Heungbo’s song,” is a series of tales about a common man and his many children, encompassing the very famous story of the kind-hearted but poor eponymous younger brother Heungbo and his greedy rich older brother Nolbu [5], whose impact on modern Korean culture can be seen in the many restaurants whose names ironically include his signifier (놀부). Finally, Sugungga (水宮歌/수궁가), or “song of the water palace,” is a satirical tale about a rabbit outsmarting a dragon king and his tortoise minister. [6]

Even if the stories behind pansori performances might be at once timeless and historically relevant, how can anyone sit and listen to one person alternately talking and singing for the three, five, even eight hours that one performance might take? one might wonder. They might then write off pansori as rigid, stuffy art for rigid, stuffy people with the time, patience, and refinement needed to sit in a dark theater listening for hours on end to abstruse configurations of words woven into tunes that are often not pleasant to the untrained ear, without even the benefit of elaborate scenery, costumes, pyrotechnics, and exciting orchestral music offered by European opera. Just a wailing woman in a white dress. And a guy beating on a drum. For half a workday.

But such a train of thought would belie the inappropriate assumption that older forms of performance art were always enjoyed in a way similar to that which they are today: In quiet, enclosed environments of minimal distraction, commanding the nearly complete focus of the audience. This, however, is not the case.

Just like the long, plodding, and highly stylized productions of Peking Opera (京剧/jingju) [7] and its cousins in China, Japanese traditional dances (日本舞踊/nihon buyu or にちぶ/nichibu) [3] and other stage performances in Japan, and myriad other forms of performance art that, at first glance, appear too inaccessible to stomach for five minutes, let alone five hours, pansori was originally enjoyed in settings in which it was perfectly acceptable for audience members to come and go at will and even talk and eat during performances. In fact, the “pan” in “pansori” derives from the fact that this art was first developed at local festivals on fairgrounds called noripan (노리판) where spectators freely moved from one attraction to another while enjoying the company and conversation of friends. Furthermore, performances are meant to be interactive, with audience members shouting out chuimsae (추임새), or words of encouragement like “jota (j좋다/good)!” and “eolshigu (얼씨구/hooray)!”, alongside the gosu (고수). [1]

So don’t be intimidated by the length of pansori performances, initial obscurity of their style, and, er, potential laryngeal ejaculations of blood from the performers. Do a search on YouTube, listen to a CD, or check out a live performance and take these musical dramatizations of our shared concerns as a human species as they were meant to be—-casually, with a sense of fun, and as a respite from the stress, grind, and ennui of daily life.

Non-Linked References

[7] Goldstein, J. (2003). From Teahouse to Playhouse: Theaters as Social Texts in Early-Twentieth-Century China. The Journal of Asian Studies 62(3): 753-779.

[8] Klens-Bigman, D. (Spring 1999). Nihon Buyo Happyokai. Journal of Dramatic Theory and Criticism:139-148.