The captivating tunes of Arirang resound in the theater. It’s part of the Korean musical “Spring Spring” that debuted in Theater Yong at the National Museum of Korea in Yongsan, Seoul. The musical “Spring Spring” is just one of the plays based on Korean literary works sponsored by the Cultural Foundation of National Museum of Korea to celebrate the opening of the Hangeul Museum. Here’s Ms. Kwon Hye-jung권혜정 of the Cultural Foundation of National Museum of Korea’s performance planning team to tell us more about the Korean Literature Theater.

The Korean Literature Theater series was launched to commemorate the opening of the Hangeul Museum slated for 2014. This year is also when Hangeul Day was reinstated as a public holiday after 22 years. To mark this significant year, we planned several performances that celebrate Hangeul and Korean literature at Theater Yong. We hope to remember the historical value of our language, our bodily movements, and our sounds.

Last stages of preparation for the Hangeul Museum are underway inside the National Museum of Korea. Slated for official opening next year, the Hangeul Museum will feature the cultural assets associated with Hangeul, from the creation of Hunminjeongeum in the Joseon era to present day. And the first play to be presented for the Hangeul Literature Theater series is the early twentieth century writer Kim Yu-jeong’s short story titled “Spring Spring.” Here’s Ms. Kwon Hye-jung of the Cultural Foundation of National Museum of Korea again.

The reason we came up with the Hangeul Literature Theater is to show the young people the beauty of Hangeul. In order to do so, we needed to approach them with accessible and easy-to-understand plays. We chose Kim Yu-jeong’s “Spring Spring” because it’s a recommended reading for teenagers.

The musical play “Spring Spring” is an adaptation of a short story of the same title written by the famed writer Kim Yu-jeong at the height of the Japanese colonial period, in 1935. It is often touted as the pinnacle of Korean contemporary literature.

“Spring Spring” is a black comedy about a simple, naïve man and his conniving father-in-law, who feud over the man’s marriage. Behind the biting wit lies a sharp criticism of farming communities under the Japanese occupiers. The story added humor and satire to the impoverished reality of rural villages.

Kim Yu-jeong was born in a small village near Chuncheon, Gangwon Province. He started writing in his early 20s and wrote 30 novels, 12 essays, six letters, and numerous journal entries before dying of tuberculosis at 29. His writing career didn’t even last ten years, but his works embodied the simpler and more innocent sentiments of ordinary Koreans of the time and clearly communicated the sad reality hidden behind laughter.

“Spring Spring” was adapted and directed by the renowned theater artist Oh Tae-suk, who turned the short story into a merry celebration comprised of some 20 songs and dance routines. Here’s the show’s director Oh Tae-suk.

Among all the good qualities we Koreans inherited from our ancestors, I think wit and humor are the most important ones. Kim Yu-jeong was the one who transformed those qualities into pure joy, which we humans could exhibit without any restraints or faults.

As a part of the Hangeul Literature Theater, “Spring Spring” is very Korean. The dialogues, made up of languages ordinary Koreans use in their everyday lives, may sound unrefined yet have human warmth, and the costumes are exact replicas of the clothes worn by common people at the time. Even the background is a simple rural village.

A group of women cook pancakes on a big, greasy griddle and wash vegetables with the cold water pumped up from underground. The 20 songs that fill up the 90-minute musical contain the sounds and sights that define the Korean people. Director Oh Tae-suk says that turning a contemporary story written 80 years ago into a modern musical is in itself a meaningful achievement.

We are swamped by a flood of information these days, but our language itself is being shortened, changed, and degraded. This is all the more reason why we have to keep alive the language used by our grandparents a century earlier. I think the less-altered language of the past shines through in a play like this.

When the songs written in the beautiful Korean language echo around the theater, the audience is moved to roll their shoulders and tap their feet. As the audience becomes immersed in the play, they begin to appreciate Hangeul and the Korean language all over again. Here’s actor Song Young-kwang who plays Bong-pil in the play.

Since I really enjoyed the original story, I was worried about how it would be adapted into a play. But when I saw Director Oh’s adaptation, I thought it could teach me and young students many lessons. I hope they realize that just one drum is enough to amplify the joy and Hangeul and the Korean language are beautiful in themselves. There are lots of pretty words in the lyrics. Just looking at the lyrics written out in Hangeul is enough to warm up the heart. I hope the people who come to see the musical realize that.



The musical version made some changes to the original story. For instance, the original short story was written in first person with the main character specified just as “I,” but in the play he was given a name, “Deok-dal.” He already lives with the family of a girl he wants to marry. The musical starts with Deok-dal complaining about his work.

Deok-dal cannot afford to stop working in the fields, because he has a goal. He wants to marry Jeom-sun, Bong-pil’s daughter. But the mean Bong-pil has been delaying the wedding, placating Deok-dal with a promise to give Jeom-sun when she grows taller. But three years have gone by and Jeom-sun hasn’t grown an inch, leaving Deok-dal desperate. He begs his future father-in-law to let them marry, but the older man answers with a beating.

The truth of the matter is that Bong-pil doesn’t want Deok-dal to marry his daughter. He gave the young man false hope of marriage just so that Deok-dal would work for the family without pay. Too naïve to imagine such heartless intention of Bong-pil, Deokdal keeps laboring away and gets beaten every day.

Even with daily beating, Deok-dal cannot abandon his dream of marrying Jeom-sun one day. That is the only thing that keeps him going. The musical “Spring Spring” has transformed the sad and harsh lives of the Korean people into stirring songs.

Deok-dal’s life seems pitiful and hopeless, but a song makes everything alright, albeit for a little while. What makes his life more bearable is that everyone sings along with him. As the saying goes, shared sorrow is half a sorrow.

The songs sound like wise, grandmotherly advice and the audience can’t help but hum along with the melodies and clap their hands. Director Oh Tae-suk thinks this is the power of Korea’s traditional literature and arts. It is easy for people to identify and sympathize with the characters, because what they are singing is the stories of our lives delivered on the melodies of Korean traditional music and the language of our forefathers. The local flavor is what distinguishes Korean musicals from the western productions.

Korea’s pansori or folk songs weren’t composed by a single person. Their rhythms and melodies changed over many centuries and came to be what they are today. They were not written in a style prevalent in a certain time period. Our very spirits are absorbed into the songs. They are like the deeply fermented flavors of Korean seasonings or the air we breathe.

But bad news hits the patient Deok-dal. The delay of marriage is due to Jeom-sun’s short stature, but her age. She happens to be just 15, still a minor. It is against the law to marry someone under 20 and anyone who weds a minor can be sentenced up to five years in prison.

At that moment Deok-dal loses all hope. In Kim Yu-jeong’s original story Jeom-sun sides with her father, who has been putting off the wedding on the pretext of her height, leaving the hapless man totally dejected. But the musical version has a twist – Deok-dal runs away from Bong-pil’s home, sick and tired of the old man’s lies and abuse.

Angry at the weasel-like Bong-pil, Deok-dal runs away, but still longs for Jeom-sun. In fact, Jeom-sun feels the same way about Deok-dal. What she can’t stand is his lack of courage to stand up to her father. But the two young people at last admit their feelings for each other at a village festival.

While the villagers are busy enjoying the festivity, Deok-dal and Jeom-sun elope to live their own lives away from her meddling and abusive father. That conclusion seems to satisfy the audience, who tends to prefer a happy ending over a sad one. Also lingering in the minds of the playgoers is the dialogues spoken in local dialects.

-It is important to let the world know more about Korean films and literature. I regret not reading enough Korean novels when I was younger. A Korean should read more Korean books.
- I was only in elementary school when I first read “Spring Spring,” so I wasn’t that moved by the story. But now that I’m older, I think I’ll read it again. It will be fun, because it’s full of satire and wit.
- I first read portions of “Spring Spring” in my Korean language class and later on bought the book to read the whole story. The ending was different, but the story was good.

The Korean musical “Spring Spring” may not feature eye-catching stage productions or a full-scale orchestra, but its modest props make the production more accessible to the Korean audience. Also the presence of traditional musical instruments like janggu, gayageum and geomungo made the whole performance more enjoyable. The songs, dialects from a bygone era, and lively movements made “Spring Spring” an uplifting experience. Next up in the series of the Hangeul Literature Theater is “The Shaman Sorceress Dong-ni” based on the short story “The Shaman Sorceress” written by the esteemed Kim Dong-ni. Given the success of “Spring Spring,” the next production is also expected to be an inspiring hit.