The Korean Wave that spread around the world
Daniel Nelson
I don’t like K-pop, which is too corporate, calculated and soul-less for my taste. But I was fascinated by Hallyu! The Korean Wave, the V&A’s latest blockbuster.
It marks a remarkable South Korean soft-power success in captivating millions of people through K-Pop, K-gaming, K-film, K-drama and K-cosmetics - the country is now the world’s third biggest cosmetics exporter.
One of the most telling sentences in the exhibition reads: “Please note from this point in the exhibition, ‘Korea’ refers to the country of South Korea unless otherwise stated.” North Korea has weapons, but the South has triumphed culturally.
The wave rippled across Asia in the 1990s, led by drama and film, and, whipped up by the smartphone and social media gale, was followed in the 2000s by K-Pop.
Now, according to the exhibition, K-Pop has 156 million fans around the world. Loyal to their individual “idols”, and on specialised apps and social networks, they wave their individualised light-sticks to create oceans of light and “have become overnight translators, content creators, fundraisers, archivists and activists”. Many do good deeds. Occasionally they organise campaigns, unlike the stars they follow, who must remain neutral.
For example, when Black Lives Matter demonstrations provoked racist responses online, fans took to Twitter en masse to drown out offensive posts with clips of K-Pop artists.
But the K-Pop industry is driven by three entertainment corporations which, to overcome the limitations of the Korean market, utilise meticulous production systems to promote “idols”, who are characterised by a “soft masculine style” with music and images “strategically designed” to appeal to international audiences.
That sounds Orwellian, but what fans get are addictive tunes, catchy lyrics, synchronised choreography, edgy fashion and high-quality music videos, all centred around the “idols”, who start as trainees, graduate to be “rookies” for a couple of years, and are then unleashed on the public.
As demonstrated in the penultimate room of the exhibition, the result is a blaze of primary colours, flashing lights, thumping rhythm, increasingly backed by virtual and enhanced reality.
It all combines to form heung,”a contagious and overpowering sense of joy”.
The final room? You can try out your your own dance routines, a hallmark of the K-Pop phenomenon.
If your inhibitions, like mine, block this choreographic opportunity, you can spend more time looking at the opening display on the turbulent history of South Korea - which started out poorer than the North. One of the most telling sentences in the exhibition reads: “Please note from this point in the exhibition, ‘Korea’ refers to the country of South Korea unless otherwise stated.” North Korea has developed weapons, but the South has triumphed culturally.
The historical background also covers the way the country’s post-Korean War dictators martialled economic resources, supported giant family enterprises to lead the business charge, and backed Internet and tech as the way forward for the country (“driven by the belief that the slow embrace of industrialisation in the late 19th century caused the country’s colonisation”).
It paid off. Not only are K-pop and its associated Ks a global business, but South Korea is a global cultural leader. The effects are many, from a rise in Japanese tourism to South Korea, through new exports thanks to product placement in Korean big- and small-screen entertainment, to Parasite becoming the first non-English-language film to win an Oscar for Best Picture.
The Oscar completes a circle, the exhibition points out. In 1994 sales of Jurassic Park outperformed 1.5million Hyundai cars. So the authorities began to support the country’s film industry, together with the giant chaebol businesses and private investors. This in turn encouraged writers and actors, leading to box office success locally and then internationally. K-cinema had arrived.
There’s another factor in the Kulture boom: several authoritarian leaders encouraged a Korean identity, based on nationalism and traditional heritage, in response to colonial Japanese bans on Korean names and the teaching of Korean language In schools. Traditional figures, stories and clothes featured strongly and aroused overseas curiosity when they were incorporated into Webtoons, which begat K-dramas which begat K-films.
The flashiness of K-Pop is a long way from the 3 million dead, the 10 million displaced families, and the massive destruction of the Korean War in the 1950s (in which 100,000 British troops were involved). The exhibition marks the remarkable shift from the chaos of conflict and repression to the glamour of K-Pop.
Hallyu! The Korean Wave is at the V&A Museum, Cromwell Road, SW7 until 25 June, £20, students and under-26s £13. Info: 7942 2502/ vam.ac.uk/kwave