Korean Modern: The Matter of Identity: An Exploration into Modern Architecture in an East Asian Country 9783035622621, 9783035622614

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Korean Modern The Matter of Identity

Korean Modern The Matter of Identity

An Exploration into Modern Architecture in an East Asian Country Peter G. Rowe, Yun Fu and Jihoon Song

Birkhäuser Basel

The publication of this book was kindly supported by the EUGENE Corporation

To KS. and J. Yu

Graphic Design, Cover, and Layout: Reinhard Steger Mariana Uccello Cristina Mosillo proxi.me Production: Heike Strempel, Berlin Printing: optimal media GmbH, Röbel/Müritz Paper: 135g/m2 Condat matt Perigord Editor for the Publisher: Andreas Müller, Berlin Library of Congress Control Number: 2021938786

Bibliographic information published by the German National Library The German National Library lists this publication in the Deutsche Nationalbibliografie; detailed bibliographic data are available on the Internet at http://dnb.dnb.de. This work is subject to copyright. All rights are reserved, whether the whole or part of the material is concerned, specifically the rights of translation, reprinting, re-use of illustrations, recitation, broadcasting, reproduction on microfilms or in other ways, and storage in databases. For any kind of use, permission of the copyright owner must be obtained. This publication is also available as an e-book (ISBN PDF 978-3-0356-2262-1). © 2021 Birkhäuser Verlag GmbH, Basel P.O. Box 44, 4009 Basel, Switzerland Part of Walter de Gruyter GmbH, Berlin/Boston Printed on acid-free paper produced from chlorine-free pulp. TCF ∞ Printed in Germany ISBN 978-3-0356-2261-4 987654321 www.birkhauser.com

Korean Modern The Matter of Identity



Chapter 4

119 125 128 148 162

The Rise of Chung-hee Park The Two Architects Kim Re-Interpreting and Sublimating Tradition Exploring Modern Technology Pulling Up with the Times



Chapter 5

168 172 193 206

The Building of a New Korea The Beauty of Poverty and Structuring Emptiness Making Frames, Walls and Voids Architectural Essences and Themes



Chapter 6

217 230 247 260

Spatial Recoveries Spatial Flows Others Realizing Cultural Potentials



Chapter 7

267 288 297 304

Traditional Tropes Efficient Project Delivery Self-Reference Consolidating Identity

314 320 329 330 333 334

References Biographical Notes Acknowledgments Illustration Credits About the Authors Index

116 The Generals, Park’s Regime and Followers

166 Modern Democracy and the 4.3 Group



Chapter 1

8 Introduction 10 25 29

On Modernity and a Path-Dependent Turn On ‘Koreanness’: Han Minjok and Reaching Out Organization of the Book



Chapter 2

34 Movement in the Late Joseon Dynasty King Jeongjo Proceeds to the Hwaseong Fortress 44 The Geojunggi and Architectural Depiction 56 Consolidation of Power towards the Gwangmu Reforms 61 The Gyeongbokgung Restoration 76 Seokjojeon

214 The Sixth Republic and Returning Contemporaries

39



Chapter 3

82 87 100 104 113

Three Phases of Colonial Rule Architectural Symbols of Colonial Rule Places of Worship in the Manner of the West Two Department Stores and Modernity A Modernism of the East

78 Under the Thumb of Colonial Rule

264 Koreanness: Some Observations

7

Introduction

Ch

apt e

1

r

This book seeks to explore the development of modern architecture in Korea and, more recently, in South Korea. Its main focus is on identity construction. Rather than conforming to an encyclopedic survey of constructed projects, it does so by interrogating major periods from the Late Joseon Dynasty onwards and by selecting projects within them that appear to epitomize underlying forces and factors in play at the time. Thus each period can be seen as something of an episode, conforming to a certain prevalence or hegemony of ideas and aspirations from which architectural projects materialize. In many cases this results in a pairing of projects, or at least a relatively small number of projects within each period, reflecting the outcomes of differing and even contrasting sets of pressures being brought to bear. For example, during the Late Joseon Dynasty the construction of the Suwon Fortress (Suwon Hwaseong) can be seen as an undertaking with a strong cast towards the future of the nation through the deployment of early modern construction technology. By contrast, the later Gyeongbok Palace reconstruction and expansion (Gyeongbokgung Reconstruction) sought to emphatically deploy the tradition and glorious past of the earlier Joseon Period for stabilizing politico-cultural purposes. Likewise during the era of Chung-hee Park the adoption of Western-influenced architecture underlined ambitions towards economic and social development in a modern world, whereas work by other architects strove for a less narrowly production-oriented version of the present future. All along the way architectural project examples will be introduced, illustrated and discussed in order to round out, as it were, lines of inquiry.

9

On Modernity and a PathDependent Turn In recent years, challenges to the perceived Eurocentrism and unilinearity of established themes of convergence concerning modernity, such as those espoused by the likes of Talcott Parsons during the 1950s and ‘60s (Parsons, 1966), have arisen. According to Charles Taylor (2001) there are at least two ways of understanding the rise of modernity, otherwise defined as cultural, social and economic change that is ­ resent-day inherently globalizing. The first is as a difference between p Western society and that, say, of medieval Europe. The second is change from early centuries to today involving ‘development’, as the demise of traditional society gives way to the rise of the ‘modern’. For many, if not most, the second view is dominant. Taylor then goes on to distinguish a ‘cultural theory of modernity’, characterized by transformations that have issued in the modern West mainly in terms of a new culture – for example, the Atlantic Culture, comprised of a group of closely related cultures with its own specific understandings of p ­ erson, nature and good. It can be contrasted, in turn, with other cultures. By contrast, an ‘acultural theory of modernity’ describes transformations in terms of culture-neutral operations that obtain regardless of specific cultures, such as the growth of reason, the growth of ­scientific consciousness, development of a secular outlook, the rise of instrumental rationality and clear distinctions between fact-finding and evaluation. It is a modernity accounted for in terms of social and

intellectual changes via increased mobility, concentration of populations, industrialization and the like, and is not defined by a position in relation to a specific constellation of person, nature or good. The dominance of the acultural position over the past several centuries comes largely by way of ‘coming to see’ the range of truths and distinctions from traditional culture and shaking people loose from old habits and beliefs. For Taylor, to rely on acultural theory is to miss out and to fall into a distorted view where everything modern belongs ­ nlightenment package. Also, we don’t examine certain facts to one E of the modern condition that don’t seem to be a part of the acultural transformation to modernity and too easily imagine that all people have always seen themselves as, for instance, Westerners. Others like Dilip Gaonkar (2001) make a similar distinction, while also admitting that modernity is inescapable and that to desist from speculation would amount to the end of modernity. For him, to think in terms of ‘alternative modernities’ is to recognize the need to revise the distinction between ‘societal modernization’ and ‘cultural modernity’. Societal modernization involves a set of cognitive and social transformations. Cognitive contributions are comprised of a scientific consciousness, development of secular outlooks, doctrines of progress, a fact-value split, individualistic understandings of self and a contractual understanding of society. The social dimension includes market-driven industrial economics, bureaucratically administered states, modes of popular government, increased mobility, literacy and urbanization. Against this order cultural modernity rose in opposition, first in the aesthetic realm repelled by a middle-class ethos, stifling uniformity, banalities, and soulless pursuit of money. Among philosophers, two intersecting views of modernity emerged. One was characterized by Baudelaire’s ‘cultural-aesthetic modernity’ and pointed to palpable improvements in the material conditions of life, property, political emancipation, technological mastery and the growth of specialist knowledge. It also involved a focus on modernity as a spectacle of speed, novelty and effervescence. The second view was the darker perspective of, say, a Weberian societal-cultural modernity that emphasized an existential experience of alienation, deadening and meaningless routine, as well as despair. Also, it found an absence of morality in a world of appearances.

11

For Jürgen Habermas (1996), modernity is an unfinished project, where the “expression modernity repeatedly articulates the consciousness of an era that refers back to the past of classical antiquity, precisely in order to comprehend itself as the result of a transition from the old to the new” (p. 39). From the Enlightenment onwards, if not before, the break with tradition resulted in a differentiated view of the world among the spheres of science, morality and art, each with its own foundations and formulations. Set against what he perceived as a prevailing opinion critical of modernism, he argued for a “differentiated reconnection of modern culture with an everyday sphere of praxis that is dependent on a living heritage and yet is impoverished by mere traditionalism” (p. 52). For Habermas, this will “only prove successful if the process of social modernization can also be tied into other non-capitalistic directions, if the lifeworld can develop institutionally on its own in a way currently inhibited by the autonomous systematic dynamics of the economic and administrative system” (p. 53). Certainly, among terms like ‘modernity’, ‘modernization’ and ‘modernism’, though from different provenances, arises a cluster of concepts with common concerns about newness, change, sometimes expressed in a celebratory manner and sometimes in order to control change. What also emerges are Jekyll and Hyde renditions of positive and ­negative attributes, especially within social theory. By definition, ‘modernism’ is an attitude of mind in the art world set against realism. ‘Modernization’ involves social change, especially in the developing world and as their ‘pictures of the future’. Finally, ‘modernity,’ as mentioned earlier, embraces cultural, social and economic change which is inherently globalizing, at least in ambition. Confusions and ambiguities abound, not least between ‘multiple moderns’ and ‘multiple modernities’, where the former refers usually to sectoral divisions like modern economics, modern history and modern urbanization, whereas the latter refers to a more synthetic view of combined social and intellectual processes. Indeed, adherents of ‘multiple modernities’, somewhat akin to ‘alternative modernities’, argue that forms of modernity are so varied and contingent upon cultural and historical circumstances that the term

‘modernity’ itself must be used in the plural. The sociologist Shmuel Eisenstadt, who coined the concept of multiple modernities in the 1990s (Eisenstadt, 2005), alongside of other important scholars like Johann Arnason and Björn Wittrock (Arnason, 1997; and Wittrock, 2005), largely criticized conventional themes of modernization for two underlying assumptions. The first was the view of modernization as an inevitable, single and unified homogenizing process. The second was use of the West as the model against which others were to be measured. Skepticism also extended to often dystopic themes of Weber, Hegel, Marx and Habermas as being parochial to specific sectors and focused on singular cultural or institutional factors. As one keen observer noted, “[m]any write of the need for a third way between Fukuyama’s (1992) ‘end of history’ thesis (the logical endpoint of homogenization) and Huntington’s (1996) ‘clash of civilizations’ thesis (which views modernity as uniquely Western)” (Fourie, 2012). Nevertheless, many emphasize that conflict and struggle are inherent to modernity, either between multiple orientations or between competing visions of the collective good. A useful way of understanding transitions in modernity from one era to another, by contrast, is via Ulrich Beck’s concept of ‘modernizing modernities’. Beck (1992) fundamentally breaks with the idea that all social changes result from social collapse, economic crises and/or revolution. For him, institutions founder on their own success, allowing conceptualization of shifts by virtue of victories of modernization. Moreover, relatively small but persistent changes can result in ­substantial changes and new modernities. Here he often uses the example of the women’s movement leading inexorably through a string of emancipations, allowances and acceptances into a profoundly altered modern regime in most places today. In short, modernities are created essentially by way of symptoms of success rather than those of crises. Later refinements led to the idea of ‘reflexive modernity’ superseding other ‘modernities’ such as ‘industrial modernity’, which Beck also developed with Anthony Giddens and Scott Lash (1994). There the changed behavior of masses of people, such as today’s emphases on eating well, keeping fit, rejecting fast food and cars, can change the face of the lifeworld and lead to new traditions being created, like ‘slow

13

living’ and ‘slow food’. In effect, it is an ordinariness and pervasiveness of modernity that exerts the most pressure. Peter Taylor (1999), who appropriates Beck’s methodological scheme of transformation, points to innovative art forms like genre painting, the novel and the cinema as expressions of this ordinariness and pervasiveness, alongside of the pursuit of comfort, which over the years results in revised furnishings and carpeting in houses, together eventually with the use of electrical appliances and labor-saving devices. Recent path-oriented variants of conventional modernization theory are also based on more grounded empirical observation. The work of Ronald Inglehart and Christian Welzel (2005), for instance, finds that nations with similar cultural, linguistic or historical backgrounds tend to cluster together across broader dimensions of self-expression, traditional values and secularrational values. Industrial countries tend to be high on secular-rational values, for example, and wealthy countries tend to adhere to values of self-expression (Fourie, 2012). In other words, modernity is also shaped by historical path dependency as by factors like technological advancement and economic growth. In effect, they follow different trajectories even when subject to the same forces of modernization. They also align well with ‘rational mastery’ and ‘individual autonomy’, as defined by multiple interpretations of modernity (Fourie, 2012). During the process of modernization, or of reflexive modernity, especially amid the maelstrom of changes, trends, fads and fashions to be had in the striving for newness and change that is “being modern”, hegemonic states can be attained. These are core states of relative stability that appear at specific conjunctions in the development or evolution of the modern world system. By definition, hegemony pertains to the social, cultural, ideological or economic influence exerted by dominant groups – namely, the applicable regime in power, as it were. In effect, these are convergences and concatenations of multiple smaller factors or forces with intensities in space-time that establish at least a temporary order over modernity’s maelstrom of changes, trends, fads and so on. These hegemonic moments also put an authoritative stamp on proceedings, so to speak. Peter Taylor cites what he calls three prime periods of modernity corresponding to three hegemonic cycles in the West, ultimately defined by success and capital accumulation.

They correspond, in turn, to the Dutch hegemonic cycle of the 16th century, leading to ‘mercantile modernity’; followed by the British hegemony of the late 18th and early 19th centuries, leading to ‘industrial modernity’; and then on to the American cycle that led to ‘consumer modernity’, also now seen to be in decline. In all three cases it was the covert modernizers of civil society rather than the overt modernizers of the state that operated, as it were, the successful trajectory of social change and to such a degree that it became at least momentarily hegemonic. Not alone, Taylor’s account is also consistent in broad form with Marshall Berman’s (1988) three phases of modernity, beginning in the 16th to 18th centuries, followed by the 19th century and then on into the 20th century of contemporary modernity. More generally, these phases are also marked by the Treaty of Westphalia in 1648, the Treaty of Vienna in 1815 and the rise of the United Nations after 1944. All three political events helped enshrine the nation-state and the modern system of power and politics. Writing also from the standpoint of geo-history, Peter Taylor’s account foregrounds the inherent tension between place and space, or between the ‘makers of place’ and the ‘producers of space’. For him, larger-order institutions like the state are producers of space, often through topdown operations, whereas the makers of place operate at more local levels and often deploy bottom-up approaches. The tension between these two positions perhaps becomes most manifest when efficiency is advanced by converting messy places into rational spaces. In the domain of domesticity the contrast of ‘home’ and ‘household’ has a similar resonance. Historical accounts of transition and transformation occasioned as ‘turning points’ defined by deterritorialization, after Deleuze and Guattari (1987), to the point of erasure of sufficient differences that distinguish one era, epoch or regime, followed by a reterritorialization that creates yet another era, epoch or regime. Another intellectual expression of non-linear and progressive unfolding of historical events is suggested by Miriam Levin and her colleagues (2011) and Niall Ferguson (2005). Although these are moments that can and have been defined by crises, they can also occur due to an accumulation of seemingly less important events. The ‘turning points’ that coincided with substantial changes in East Asian circumstances

15

during the 1990s, for instance, were mixtures of both ordinary events and crises, usually in that order, depending upon specific cultural contexts. The burst of the real-estate bubble in Japan in 1989, for example, was certainly a crisis of quite massive and lasting proportions. However, its build-up can be seen as an accumulation of a lack of foresight, greed, hubris and bad business practices, not to mention an overemphasis on growth. Further, the roots of these attitudes and practices stretch back in historical time at least to the end of World War II, if not before. In South Korea the momentum of the ‘democracy movement’ was also accompanied by a number of separate but interrelated events. With regard to the general topic of modernity in this volume, a stance in interpretation will be taken that favors ‘cultural modernity’ in Charles Taylor’s sense; ‘multiple modernities’ rather than ‘multiple moderns’ of a sectoral kind; and transformations via modernizing modernity and reflexive modernity after both Beck and Giddens. Nevertheless, overall, modernity and modernization in different contexts will be regarded largely as variants of the standard or conventional model, brought about by both crises and revolutions and by more commonplace events and successes in the manner of Volker Schmidt (2006) as well as Inglehart (2005) and essentially in a historical, path-dependent manner (Fourie, 2012). Evolutions that culminate in hegemonic states will be identified and used to orchestrate discussions from pre-modern to early modern and up to and within contemporary conditions. In these regards the emphasis will be on the more contemporary architectural contributions. One test of the efficacy of the approach can be briefly illustrated by looking at the case of Seoul, Korea, through an examination of cliometric analyses ranging roughly from 1870, or the Late Joseon Dynasty, to the contemporary era. A graphical plot by way of the relative intensity (high, neutral, low) across ten general characteristics germane to the realm of architecture and urban building reveals four episodes or ‘cultural moments’ in terms of the foregoing commentary. They are 1. the Late Joseon Period; 2. the Japanese Colonial Period from 1905 to 1940; 3. the period of military government from 1960 to 1980, or thereabouts; and 4. the contemporary period from 2000 onwards. The ten indicators, all potentially affecting urban-architectural

development in some way, are: 1. the population rate of change, 2. GDP development or similar measure, 3. Level of urbanization, 4. Environmentalism, 5. Level of manufacturing, 6. Housing density, 7. Gini Index or similar measure of equality, 8. Foreign influence, 9. Level of building technology, and 10. Level of community services. From this, the Late Joseon Period can be characterized by low levels of development in all categories, compared to later on, with the exception of inequality (Gini Index equivalent) where disparities and class distinctions within society were high and, therefore, levels of equality were low. Under Japanese colonial rule, population change fluctuated from high to very high, including Japanese immigration. The GDP, or similar measure, was relatively low compared to later times, as was urbanization, though both preparing to rise, along with housing density. Environmentalism was declining, as was rampant inequality. Foreign influence was very high, of course, whereas manufacturing levels were rising though not at an exceptionally high rate, along with levels of building technology and modernization of community services like education and health care. The militarily dominated period from roughly 1960 or 1961 to 1980 saw the population rate of change increasing and decreasing, although increasing almost across the board in Seoul. There were relatively steep increases in GDP per capita, urbanization, levels of manufacturing and of building technology and in community services. The Gini Index fluctuated, though at moderate levels, but environmentalism was relatively low and housing density tended to decrease with aerial expansion. Foreign influence, though present particularly economically, was relatively low. All in all, this was a rather narrowly focused production-oriented period. Finally, the contemporary era from around 2000 onwards saw population rates of change move below replacement rate as South Korea continued to modernize. GDP rose appreciably, driven by shifts into the tertiary economic sector. Urbanization also rose but then stabilized with further slight declines in Seoul. Stabilization also occurred in the Gini Index though at higher levels, along with levels of building technology and community services. Housing density rose, whereas foreign influence was relatively stable, at least after the outside interventions of the financial crisis recovery.

17

2.0 Japan

Confucian

1.5

Germany

Hong Kong

Taiwan

Traditional vs. Secular-Rational Values

Sweden

Protestant Europe Norway

Chech Rep. 1.0

0.5

Finland China

Russia

Orthodox

-1.0

Burkina Rwanda

Jordan Algeria Zimbabwe Morocco Egypt

Africa -1.5

-1.0

Turkey Iran

Bangladesh

-2.0 -2.0

N. Ireland Uruguay

Thai. Poland Malay.

Ethiopia

Zambia

Pakistan

Australia Britain

Spain

Vietnam Cyprus India

Islamic

-1.5

France

Croatia

Iraq

Canada

English Speaking

Argentina Ireland

U.S.

Brazil

Latin America

Uganda Peru

Guatemala

-0.5

N. Zealand

Chile

Mali Nigeria S. Africa

Tanzania Ghana

Switzerland

Iceland

Luxemburg Italy

Serbia

South Asia Indonesia

Netherlands Belgium

Catholic Europe

Macedonia

Romania -0.5

Slovenia

Slovakia

S. Korea Moldova Ukarine

0.0

Denmark

Bulgaria Belarus

Mexico Venezuela Colombia

El Salvador -0.0

0.5

Puerto Rico 1.0

1.5

Survival vs. Self-Expression Values

The Inglehart-Welzel Cultural Map of the World

2.0

2.5

South Korea – Relative Intensity + Time 1905-40

-1890

High (++)

1960-85

20002 GDP or Similar 3 Level of Urbanization 9 Change in Building Tech.

Relative Intensity

High (+)

Neutral (o)

B

A 1870

1880

1890

1900

1910

1920

1930

1940

1950

1960

10 Community Service

C D 1970

1980

1990

2000

5 Manufacturing % 6 Housing Density 7 Gini Index 4 Environmentalism

2010

1 Δ Populatiotion 8 Foreign Influence

Low (-)

Year(s)

V. Low (--)

D of

ra

n

io

oc

em

e

he k

r Pa

ar W

i

up C isis r ld or l C t W cia en FA an m e FI Fin rk ov 02 n Pa M 20 Asia ee cy -h ng hu C 97

ne

Ju

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ek os

ea Tr

on

m

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6 7 8 9 10

19

at

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a re Ko II W

W

i Sh

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a re Ko

G

of

sin

of

s sa

se

of

of

n-

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ty

pa

As

Ri

d En

d En

Ja

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Em

Population Rate of Change GDP or Similar Level of Urbanization Environmentalism Manufacturing %

87 19

79

19

61 19

45

53 19

19

05 19

95

18

64 18

1 2 3 4 5

Housing Density Gini Index Foreign Influence Change in Building Tech. Community Service

Hegemonic Episodes by Indicator: Intensity and Time

19

South Korea – Population Rate of Change High (++)

Relative Intensity

High (+)

Neutral (o)

Low (-)

V. Low (--) 1860

1870

1880

1890

1900

1910

1920

1930

1940

1950

1960

1970

1980

1990

2000

2010

2020

1990

2000

2010

2020

Year(s)

South Korea – Level of Urbanization High (++)

Relative Intensity

High (+)

Neutral (o)

Low (-)

V. Low (--) 1860

1870

1880

1890

1900

1910

1920

1930

1940

1950

1960

1970

Year(s)

Indicators Affecting Urban-Architectural Development

1980

South Korea – GDP or Similar High (++)

Relative Intensity

High (+)

Neutral (o)

Low (-)

V. Low (--) 1860

1870

1880

1890

1900

1910

1920

1930

1940

1950

1960

1970

1980

1990

2000

2010

2020

1980

1990

2000

2010

2020

Year(s)

South Korea – Environmentalism High (++)

Relative Intensity

High (+)

Neutral (o)

Low (-)

V. Low (--) 1860

1870

1880

1890

1900

1910

1920

1930

1940

1950

1960

1970

Year(s)

21

South Korea – Manufacturing % High (++)

Relative Intensity

High (+)

Neutral (o)

Low (-)

V. Low (--) 1860

1870

1880

1890

1900

1910

1920

1930

1940

1950

1960

1970

1980

1990

2000

2010

2020

1970

1980

1990

2000

2010

2020

Year(s)

South Korea – Gini Index High (++)

Relative Intensity

High (+)

Neutral (o)

Low (-)

V. Low (--) 1860

1870

1880

1890

1900

1910

1920

1930

1940

1950

1960

Year(s)

Indicators Affecting Urban-Architectural Development

South Korea – Housing Density High (++)

Relative Intensity

High (+)

Neutral (o)

Low (-)

V. Low (--) 1860

1870

1880

1890

1900

1910

1920

1930

1940

1950

1960

1970

1980

1990

2000

2010

2020

1980

1990

2000

2010

2020

Year(s)

South Korea – Foreign Influence High (++)

Relative Intensity

High (+)

Neutral (o)

Low (-)

V. Low (--) 1860

1870

1880

1890

1900

1910

1920

1930

1940

1950

1960

1970

Year(s)

23

South Korea – Change in Building Tech. High (++)

Relative Intensity

High (+)

Neutral (o)

Low (-)

V. Low (--) 1860

1870

1880

1890

1900

1910

1920

1930

1940

1950

1960

1970

1980

1990

2000

2010

2020

1990

2000

2010

2020

Year(s)

South Korea – Community Service High (++)

Relative Intensity

High (+)

Neutral (o)

Low (-)

V. Low (--) 1860

1870

1880

1890

1900

1910

1920

1930

1940

1950

1960

1970

Year(s)

Indicators Affecting Urban-Architectural Development

1980

On ‘Koreanness’: Han Minjok and Reaching Out Given that Korea is a relatively small country within the broader East Asian region, ‘Koreanness’, for want of a better characterizing term, is difficult to pin down and yet is germane if not crucial to this discussion. One striking characteristic about Korea has been its relatively long and continuous existence as a unified country. Unlike other places – China, for example – linguistic, ethnic and religious differences among the population have had little impact on the country’s history. Despite invasions and occupations, especially during the time of this narrative, Koreans have remained relatively homogeneous, even using the same term, han minjok, to mean both the Korean nation and the Korean race without any clear differentiation between the two and the notion of a shared bloodline. In fact, the earliest Korean origin myths predate Buddhist, Taoist or Confucian beliefs and are rooted in traditional Korean folk religion and shamanism. In turn, they are founding myths that often include a story about the union of the sky father and the earth mother. Korean rulers had divine lineage but were not dieties. The first kingdom of Korea is believed to have been founded in Gojoseon in 2333 BCE by Dangun Wanggeom, whose father, Hwanung, descended to earth.

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Another aspect of Korea is its role as a Sinic tributary in the East Asian Sinic world civilization. Unlike Japan, whose cultural achievements are often largely depicted as departures from Chinese culture, Korea’s issue squarely from within Chinese culture and even to the point of being superior to it. Within neo-Confucianism, for instance, Korean intellectuals even looked down upon the Qing of China for abandoning the higher cultural standards of the Ming, which they, the Koreans, continued to uphold (Eckert, Lee and Lew et al., 1990). In relatively recent times and those of this narrative, modern Korean nationalism developed in relation to foreign imperialism and occupation. This, in turn, intensified nascent nationalistic feelings by providing an external enemy, often also leading to a post-colonial resolve to at least match if not outdo the former colonial achievements. The bitterness and anger that also go with this colonial experience or similar domination by a superior force give rise to won-han, the idea that some injustice has been done to oneself, a peculiarly and pervasive Korean cultural trait at least in its intensity. At various times this could be seen in a drive towards ethnic nationalism centered on the notion of minjok, or race, and usages of hanja/hangul linguistically, to provide a basis for resisting foreign hegemony and assimilation. Ethnic nationalism of this kind also led to operating in contrast to something in play and often drove towards seeking alternatives. In a recent poll concerning criteria within nations of self-identity, apart from ‘national citizenship’ at 41 percent, in Korea ‘race and culture’ at 25 percent was at considerable variance with, for instance, the U.S. at only four percent and a global average of only eight percent. Another implication of han is a strong sense of collectivism reflected by family, special groups or belonging to cliques. Also, a sense of impatience is often manifested in ppalli-ppalli, or ‘hurry-hurry’ behavior (Crawford, 2018). Others have pointed out that typical Confucian values can be observed in South Korea’s economic growth and personality (Eckert, Lee and Lew et al., 1990, and Cummings, 1999). These include: filial piety, family loyalty, respect for hierarchies and an active state, emphasis on selfcultivation and education, and a concern for social harmony. C ­ ontrary to the Weberian claim of the necessary intertwining of C ­ alvinism

and Western capitalism, others suggest that when societies are oriented towards modernization many of the older values now well and truly internalized, like Confucianism in Korea, can provide the cultural basis for economic transformations (Tu, 1985). Indeed. It might also be observed that Koreans, as an exceptionally well-educated society, capable of rapid assimilation and adaption of technology, owe their success to respect for education and self-improvement dating way back into the Joseon Dynasty. Returning to the presence of a nationalist ideology in contemporary circumstances, along with external dependencies that are also a part of those same circumstances, two extreme cultural positions sometimes emerge. The first is relatively indiscriminate cultural imitation and borrowing. The other is militant cultural chauvinism (Eckert, Lee and Lew et al., 1990). This has also led to folk culture as a source of pride (minjok and minjung), often drawing upon circumstances of history of the common people – the masses – as a cultural source or source of validation. Another encounter among opposites arises in the communitarian values of Confucianism and the tendency toward self-assertion (Brandt, 2013). If anything, this tension is clearly appreciable in aggressive entrepreneurship alongside close government-business relations. In the realm of architectural expression, these aspects of ‘Koreanness’ can manifest themselves in a variety of ways. One, following from the second to last point, is emulation of some presumed aspect of traditional Korean building. This may be formal in terms of general spatial organization, like courtyard or hanok structures. In particular, the preference often exhibited for the ‘void’ rather than the ‘solid’, and in Eastern versus Western terms, crops up not infrequently. Or it might be figural in the use of upturned and bracketed tiled rooks or wall materials. Another might involve relatively unabashed borrowing from architectural examples built elsewhere. Such examples will include steel and glass skyscrapers in the manner, say, of Mies van der Rohe. Others may be more regionally specific like, for instance, the work of the Japanese architect Tadao Ando. A further manifestation of ‘Koreanness’ is the obvious cycles of ‘reaction’ and ‘action’ by the 4.3 Group of architects during the democratization period to what was perceived, by them, to be an overly commodified corporate

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or ‘official’ architecture. This, in turn, took the form of various kinds of hyper-modernity, particularly with regard to building facades and methods of fabrication. Moreover, later on these examples became objects for further ‘reactions’ and ‘actions’. Finally, drawing upon observations of Korea’s two aspects of Confucian communitarian values and countervailing individual self-assertion and the inherent tension involved, a practical reckoning with need is often a prized quality of urban-architectural and other projects, including timely delivery. This was very manifest in the publicly successful Cheonggyecheon stream restoration project earlier in the new millennium. It was also manifest in the comparatively short time of the Hwaseong Fortress construction during the Joseon Period and the rampant industrialization during the Chung-hee Park era. A capacity for what amounts to mass mobilization and an all-for-one-and-one-for-all attitude mark many events in Korea’s development history.

Organization of the Book

Following this introduction, the second chapter deals with the Late Joseon Dynasty. This was a period, as described earlier, with increasing foreign influence being pushed on Korea, marked by political and intellectual adjustments, encounters and confrontations between traditional and modernizing forces, factionalism and social decline. On the one hand, the Seongrihak version of neo-Confucianism was rife, emphasizing a humanistic, rationalistic understanding of ­people and their worlds though still staunchly isolationist. By contrast, during the national rebuilding after the failing conflict with China, the Silhak Movement emphasized practical learning and the use of early modern technology, resulting in something of a bi-fold sense of traditional Korean values and practical learning for functional applications, not dissimilar to the Self-Strengthening Movement in China. In these regards two architectural projects stand out and epitomize the forward pressures and backward pulls of the period. They are: the Suwon Fortress of 1794 to 1796, built during the Boongdong-Jemachi (Network of Friends) and the later restoration of Gyeongbokgung between 1865 and 1872 under the Heungseon-Daewongun. To use Hegel’s reference to modernity, the first was a case of a ‘present-future’ undertaking, while the second was of a ‘present-past’ orientation in order to shore up the Joseon Dynasty during a time of substantial pressure and potential political change (Hegel, 1966). This was also the time during which the

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‘Hermit Kingdom’ of Korea was substantially opened up, or at least large cracks, as it were, began to appear in its closed edifice. This pressure came from the West, including France, Russia and the United States, as well as most forcefully from the East and China but to a greater and more repressive extent from Japan. During this time several foreigners designed institutional buildings, mainly in a neo-classical European manner and not unlike similar structures in Qing China towards the end of the 19th century, echoing the Western leaning inherent in the Self-Strengthening Movement rather than mirroring Eastern values. The third chapter is devoted to the Japanese Colonial Period from 1910 to 1945, when Korea was effectively annexed to Imperial Japan. Hanyang became Keijo. Japanese rule prioritized Korea’s accelerated industrialization and modernization, started by the earlier Gabo and Gwangmu Reforms. As elsewhere in East Asia, Japan sowed the seeds, so to speak, particularly of industrialization as a modern form of economic activity, quickly emulated by Koreans, especially in larger cities like Keijo, now Seoul. Japan also confronted public resistance from Koreans during the occupation, which was often put down brutally, leading into World War II and the eventual surrender to American units on 9 September 1945. Over this period there were three different groups of architects and trends in play. First, there were the Japanese architects mainly involved in impressing the colonial image through public programs, such as railway stations, cultural spaces, schools and housing. Second, there were Western architects often working on buildings associated with forms of the Christian religion. Third, there were Korean architects working primarily in Keijo’s northern quarters, as distinct from Myeong-dong, the predominantly Japanese settlement to the south. During colonization, the Japanese always tended to live separately from those in the host country. Again, a pairing of buildings epitomizes much of this era, among other projects. They are both department stores, a relatively new modern type of building serving the new consumer lifestyle in Keijo and Korea. One served the Japanese population while the other served primarily the Koreans. Other  buildings span across major government institutions by the General Government of Korea, university and cultural facilities, and several cathedrals.

The fourth chapter concerns the Park Regime and subsequent predemocratizing military rule from 1961 to 1987, or thereabouts. The regime of Chung-hee Park began after his military coup brought to an end the Second Republic of Po-sun Yun. Seeking to propel South Korea into the modern world, Park launched a series of economic policies that rescued the nation from the brink of starvation and brought about rapid growth in industrialization, urbanization and a thriving export economy. Following a close election in 1971, Park declared martial law and amended the constitution into a highly authoritarian document. He was assassinated in 1979 and succeeded by Kyu-hah Choi (1979–1980) pursuant to the new constitution. Doo-hwan Chun (1980–1988) then assumed the presidency, ushering in another military junta. Architec­ turally, this pre-democratic period was dominated by two figures. They were Swoo Geun Kim (1931–1988) and Chung-up Kim (1922–1988). The former was Japanese-trained, though initially at Seoul National University in architecture and then at Tokyo University with master’s and doctoral degrees. He then went on to create his own firm, the predecessor to the SPACE Group. He was a prolific architect with around 200 projects to his credit. He worked very successfully with political figures like Mayor Kim ‘The Bulldozer’ of Seoul. Chung-up Kim was also a prominent architect, hailing from North Korea and of a different formation. He was French-educated and worked with Le Corbusier for three years between 1952 and 1955. His architecture contrasted with that of the other Kim, largely because of its almost romantic and surrealist-inclined formalism. By contrast, he did not work with the government and was far less prolific. The fifth chapter concerns the so-called 4.3 Group or movement of architects and those that followed afterwards into the contemporary era. Following restoration of civil rights on the heels of the June Democracy Movement in 1978, a revised constitution was approved by a national referendum and a direct election of a new president was held in December 1987, bringing the 5th Republic of South Korea to a close. The much-improved, open political climate of the 6th Republic, now as a liberal democracy, was ushered in with the election of President Tae-woo Roh (1988–1993), who set about to eliminate past vestiges of authoritarian rule. He was succeeded by Young-sam Kim in 1993,

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the country’s first civilian president in a long time (1993–1998) and primarily focused on the building of the ‘New Korea’. Following further economic reform, South Korea joined the OECD in 1996 only to be struck by the financial crisis of 1997. Although certainly a blow to its pride, the nation was rescued through loans from the International Monetary Fund, Japan and the United States, among others. Then with the election of opposition leader Dae-jung Kim (1998–2003), South Korea began to chart a pathway to recovery. Architecturally, the 4.3 Group emerged in the 1990s, drawing its name from the horrific April 3 rd Incident on the island of Jeju, the suppression an uprising against the government in 1948 that was only much later, towards the end of the 1980s, exposed to the public. This architectural movement began at first with a shared vision and substantial stylistic indebtedness to contemporary Japanese architecture. Hyo-sang Seung was perhaps the movement’s most prominent early member. He espoused at least two major concepts. The first was the ‘aesthetic of the poor’, which implied a political critique of shallow capitalistic appeals of the Korean city and the emphasis on material affluence, much like the earlier Italian Arte Povera movement of the late 1960s. A second concept concerned ‘urban voids’, where a deliberate contrast was materialized to amplify the perception of voids rather than object buildings. Another protagonist in this movement was In Cheurl Kim. Most if not all proponents were trained in South Korea and were a local group. The sixth chapter deals with the contemporary period after the transition and maintenance of commitment to democracy in the 6th Republic, which had witnessed the first peaceful transfer of power by political means with the election of Dae-jung Kim. The daunting task of recovering from the economic crisis was successfully undertaken. The chaebols (family-owned business conglomerates) were restructured, education was reshaped and Information Technology (IT) received considerably more government support, along with pursuit of the ‘Sunshine Policy’ towards North Korea. Moo-hyun Roh (2003–2008) succeeded Kim with a promise of more open and participatory government. He, however, was impeached and succeeded by Myung-bak Lee (2008–2013), ushering in an era of ‘creative pragmatism’. Geun-hye Park (2013–2017), daughter of Chung-hee Park, became the first woman President of

South Korea but ran into trouble with escalating protests, finally being successfully impeached in 2017. This led to the current leader of the nation, Jae-in Moon (2017–present). Against this backdrop, later prominent architects studied abroad, particularly at major institutions in the United States, and came back. Two in particular returned and with others set in motion a period during which contemporary Korean architecture is increasingly well known and recognized internationally. These architects were Minsuk Cho and Moongyu Choi. Among the others were Chanjoong Kim and, more recently, Pilsoo Maing. The final and seventh chapter rounds out discussion in the form of some conclusions. As might be expected, these are aimed primarily in the direction of how we might begin to form, look at and define ‘Korean­ness’ in South Korea’s modern architectural heritage, including its contemporary production. Several appendices also follow, including biographical notes mainly about architects and a number of prominent political and intellectual figures mentioned in the text.

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Movement in the Late Joseon Dynasty Ch

apt e

2

r

The reign of King Jeongjo (1776–1800) is acclaimed by some as the ‘golden age’ of the Joseon Dynasty because of its relatively forward-­ looking orientation on many matters (Eckert, Lee and Lew et al., 1990, pp. 164–177; and Cumings, 1999, pp. 67–76). Jeongjo ascended to the throne in 1724 and became the 22nd ruler of the Joseon Dynasty, founded by Yi Seong-gye in 1392. He was the son of Crown Prince Sado, executed by King Yeongjo, and Sado’s wife Lady Hyegyeong, later to become the Dowager Queen. Jeongjo spent considerable time trying to clear his father’s name and moved out of the capital Hanseong, now Seoul, to Suwon to be close to his father’s tomb and built Hwaseong Fortress around it. The era before his reign was in disorder, long in the hands of the yangban, an elitist literati class who had pursued strategies to both limit their number and protect their status in order to reinforce their power. Below them were the chungin (middle people), who served technical and practical roles, including those of artisans, doctors and administrative clerks, followed by the sangmin (commoners) and then, finally, the cheonmin (low born) and outcastes (Cumings, 1999, pp. 69–72). There were numerous slaves both on government rosters and those associated with yangban elites. By the 16th century literati purges had emerged with factional splits between ‘Easterners’ and ‘Westerners’, especially during the late Myeongjong Period with the rise of the rural sarim faction of neo-Confucians (Seok, 2018, p. 11). Over time neo-Confucianism had also become more abstract, essentially built on three principles: legality with the law (chung), obedience to parents (hyo) and deference to mentors (yeol). It also involved five moral principles: righteousness (ui); warmth and closeness between parents and children (chin); differentiation between husband and wife (seo); and trust between friends (sin). Abstraction came about in the distinction of all existence into two inseparable components of yi and ki (or li and qi in Chinese), where yi is the patterning or governing of what things are and how they should be, whereas ki is the dynamic, concretizing and energizing element. This abstraction also resulted in a general removal from pressing matters and issues in Korean life (Koh, 2003; and Seok, 2018).

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Against this background, Jeongjo’s rule embraced numerous reforms. Some were quite particular, like his establishment of a Royal Library (Gyujanggak) to improve the cultural and political stance of the Joseon. More broadly, he generally embraced the Silhak Movement (practical learning) in direct response to the disconnection of neo-Confucianism from the rapid changes occurring in Korea between the late 17th and early 19th centuries (Kalton, 1975; and Koh, 2003, p. 83). Hyeongwon Yu (1622–1673) represents what is defined as the first generation of Silhak scholars. He weighed in on the matter of the ‘public land system’ in Korea, where the state held title and designated lands of the yangban would be rented out, advocating allocation for farmers instead to use it. Yi Ik (1681–1764) in the second generation of Silhak followers founded the Gyeongsechiyongpa School of Administration and Practical Usage, also advocating reforms of land ownership and use rights, as well as the economic infrastructure of Korea and its administration. In addition, contrary to the neo-Confucians, Yi Ik thought that subjects like geography and mathematics could be approached as real academic disciplines. In fact, drawn mainly from yangban precluded from holding significant power, the Silhak Movement, in being censorial of those in political power, advocated a broad range of topics as necessary, moving well beyond politics and social sciences into classical Chinese studies, geography, natural science, agriculture and mathematics (Baker, 2008). For them, study should be based on the central reality of things and those realities that were close at hand. This also created a rather Korea-centric thrust to the movement’s thought. Significant aspects of this thought also drew upon Western knowledge that had entered the country, along with Catholicism, through Ming China. Silhak also manifested itself in new literary forms such as free-flowing styles of expression rather than highly mannered and formal texts. Significantly, these works were in hangul and not hanja, making them both more accessible and closer, linguistically, to everyday Korean (Kalton, 1975; and Haboush and Deuchler, 1999). In painting, the appearance of realism, especially in landscape depictions, like the work of Seon Jeong (1676–1759), became more commonplace along with genre painting of everyday life (Kim, 2002).

Changdeokgung Palace Hanyang

Hangang Bridge Siheung Namtaeryeong

NEW ROUTE

OLD ROUTE Gwacheon

Anyang

Suwon / Hwaseong

Map Showing the Location of the Suwon and the Route Taken by King Jeongjo

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Depiction of the Pontoon Bridge across the Han River

King Jeongjo Proceeds to the Hwaseong Fortress As depicted in the 1795 rendering of King Jeongjo’s Procession to the Tomb of the Crown Prince Sado at Hwaseong Fortress by Denk-sin et al., the king started off with his mother, Lady Hyegyeong, from the ­Changdeokgung Palace in Hanyang (Hanseong) on his horse to stay at the fortress to celebrate his mother’s 60th birthday and to visit his father’s tomb, located in its vicinity (Haboush, 2013). This was an elaborate undertaking. The royal procession stretched for one kilometer and took two days to reach Suwon, home of the fortress, only about 30 kilometers away to the southwest. Some 120 craftsmen had contributed to the construction of Lady Hyegyeong’s palanquin. Crown Prince Sado’s tomb was moved from Yangju to Mount Hwa, the highest point of the fortress, and was lavishly decorated. In 1789, King Jeongjo also moved the county office to Suwon and built a temple near the tomb to pray for his father’s afterlife. All in all it was an extraordinary display of filial piety. For the procession, one of the most complex issues was the crossing of the Han River. Two alternatives presented themselves. He could sail across in a boat or he could build a pontoon bridge and cross by horse. He chose the latter, as shown in the accompanying illustration.

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Overall Depiction of Hwaseong Fortress

A book titled Directions on Building the Pontoon Bridge (Jugyo jeolmok) details the precise and singular directions for the construction of a functional and beautiful bridge that ensued, taking just eleven days. The site is now occupied by Korea’s first modern pedestrian bridge across the Han, opened in 1917. Once across the bridge, the king then rejected the old route to Suwon crossing a mountain pass and opted for a new route, shown in the accompanying illustration, proceeding to Siheung mainly because of the road’s width, making an overnight stop. Reaching his destination, Jeongjo changed the name of Suwon to Hwaseong (Brilliant Fortress) and upgraded it to a higher administrative level, also establishing a camp for his own 5,000 royal guards (Lee, 2014, p. 4). Strengthening the defensive system for the area just outside Hanyang also justified the King’s move. Prior to this, Hanyang was relatively vulnerable to attack from the south. For his new residence Jeongjo planned to construct a walled city in the vicinity, moving the military office to the new town and promoting it to the Suwon ­Magistracy (yusubu). In this, his aim was also to attract residents, turn the settlement into a commercial center and generally create a city that would be second only to Hanyang (Lee, 2019). The fortress and the enclosed palace (Haenggung) were designated as a World Heritage site by UNESCO in 1997 (UNESCO World Heritage Center, 1997). It is composed of many features: a 5.2-kilometer-long perimeter wall; four main gates at its cardinal points and two flood or sluice gates on the Suwoncheon stream flowing through the middle of the fortified enclosure. As shown by the accompanying illustrations, the plan layout of the fortress wall is irregular as is the topography that it traverses and encloses, particularly in the hilly southern quarter. The land area enclosed is around 1.3 square kilometers and there are 48 structures along the wall. In addition to the four main gates, the list of structures comprises: floodgates (2), a spur (1); command posts (2); pavilions (4); observation towers (3); secret gates (5); gun towers (5); crossbow platforms (2); guard platforms (2); and turrets (10). The four main gates are: the Janganmun (north); the Hwaseomun (west); the Paldalmun (south) and the Changnyongmun (east). The fortified wall and supporting structures all have openings for guns, spears, lances and other defensive armaments. The wall varied in height

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from four to six meters, usually crowned with crenellated parapets. Chimneys atop beacon towers allowed for communication with smoke and fire signals. Unlike fortresses before it, Hwaseong was both an urban settlement of moderate size and a fortified retreat (Cho, 2010). Prior to this, the  Korean populace residing in a walled town would evacuate to a separate fortress redoubt in times of attack. This practice was also not uncommon in other places, including in Europe. ­Constructed between 1794 and 1796, the Hwaseong Fortress involved some 370,000 workers and 18,000 artisans. The project took a total of about 7,000,000 man-hours to complete and deployed new scientifically based aspects of industrialization and construction (Wikipedia, 2020). The sheer speed of the building’s construction in roughly two years and nine months was testament to this modern logistical approach to fortress construction, deploying both Eastern and Western techniques. Overall, it was the largest Joseon Dynasty public works project outside of the construction of the capital, Hanyang. In addition to the wall and other defensive structures, there was Haenggung, the King’s palace noted earlier. This consisted of 22 buildings and was located towards the center of the enclosed fortress area. Nearby was another smaller ensemble of buildings (Hwaryeongjeon). Also prominent in the enclosed area was Crown Prince Sado’s tomb and several temple structures. In keeping with the personal nature of the project, it was paid for by King Jeongjo from the royal household, rather than from the national budget or by the people through their taxes. Clearly the King wanted to create a utopian city where ordinary people could lead a happy life, in addition paying filial respect to his father (Lee, 2019, p. 6). During its time the fortress proved to be impregnable, although badly damaged much later, during the Korean War of 1950 to 1953. Indeed, it lived up to its strategic function of stopping the collapse of the Korean front line from the south that had occurred during the earlier Imjin War (1592–1598), eventually won by the Korean and Chinese Ming armies against the invading Japanese (Lee, 2019; and Jeong, 1792). The Hwaseong Fortress project broke with tradition and had a modern orientation in a number of ways. First, the manner in which King Jeongjo comported himself with his people was more compassionate, by and large, as well as more open. When he left the royal compound,

for instance, he would often talk with common people, elicit their opinions and listen carefully to what they had to say. In this regard he was at odds with the absolute values of neo-Confucianism otherwise prevailing at the time and certainly with respect to the ‘discovery of the individual’ and the conflicts it created with strict class difference (Lee, 2019, p. 6). This was even further evident in Jeongjo’s recording of the fortress’s construction by way of information on each worker, including name and address, number of days worked and total wages earned. Second, the logistics involved in the construction and the associated royal buildings was highly organized in a rational manner, resulting in both precision and rapid conclusion. Labor, for example, was carefully organized by specialty defined by trade and reporting hierarchy from foremen to stonemasons to laborers, and so on. As noted earlier, this was the largest public works project since the construction of Hanyang several centuries earlier, completed in a breathtakingly short period of time. In this regard one might also note that the public success of such projects in timeliness is an attribute for which Koreans have constantly become renowned and is also a conspicuous facet of practical reckoning with need and Koreanness. Third, a major appeal to modernity comes by way of technical methods of construction and the timely furnishing of materials, the mixing of Western and Eastern approaches and the mechanical drawing involved. At the center of all this activity was the Silhak luminary Jeong Yakyong (1762–1863). Informally known as Dasan (tea mountain), he was interested in some ideas that had begun to enter Korea via Christians even though he renounced deviations from Confucianism (Setton, 1997; and Young, 2004). An advocate for the strengthening of rigid class boundaries that had begun to collapse by the 18th century, he suggested a ‘village land system’ in which land would be held and farmed in common. Social class and rule from the top were important to him, as he wrote in The Mind Governing the People (Ch’oe, Lee and de Bary, 2000). More important for us, he was also something of a polymath with strong interests in technology and engineering. Along with King Jeongjo, he was the designer of the Hwaseong Fortress, to which he also brought to bear the invention of the geojunggi, a block-and-tackle pulley device for lifting heavy stones in the construction of walls, based in part on Western mechanical knowledge.

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The Geojunggi and Architectural Depiction Western mechanical knowledge was first introduced to China in 1627 with the translation of Diagrams and Explanations of the Wonderful Machines of the Far West (Yuanxi Qigi Tushuo Luzhi) by the Jesuit Johannes Schreck (1576–1630) and the Chinese scholar Wang Zheng (1571–1644). Also in this text, European machines of the likes of the Frenchman Besson and the Italians Ramelli and Zonca were reproduced in a Chinese pictorial style (Baigrie, 1996). Wang Zheng was a judge and military inspector from Shaanxi who began collaborating with Schreck around 1623. Jeong Yakyong referred to them directly, as evidenced by the completion report of the Hwaseong Fortress (Hwaseong seongyeok uigwe, 1801), a ten-volume white paper. He wrote the master plan for the fortress in 1792 with a total of eight construction strategies, including one on the size, another on the materials, four others on engineering methods and two on transportation strategies (Jeong, 1792). Compilation of these documents was based upon an examination of the strong and weak points of Joseon castles and those in China (Noh, 2017). Actual construction of the Hwaseong Fortress walls used an outside method of stonework and an inside method of piling up small stones and dirt. It is not at all clear that either the geojunggi or the nongno pulley system of Jeong Yakyong’s devising were used, however, as that would

The Geojunggi Traditional Crane

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1. Bring the stone below the K˘ojunggi by pulling

2. [On the ground] Load the stone on support timbers

1

2

3. Stick the steel bars through the space between the timbers

4. Use the rings to connect the linking chains to the under steel bar 1 and the steel bars2

5. Lift the stone and place the cart below the K˘ojunggi

6. [On the cart] Load the stone on the support timbers

7. Untie the linking chains, and move a cart out of the K˘ojunggi

The Process of Stone Loading Using the Geojunggi

have required multiple units of both that were not forthcoming (Kim, 2017, p. 6150). From the days of ancient Greece and Rome, large-scale cranes were used to build. Consequently, Jeong Yakyong certainly invented and improved a previously existing thing (Kim, 2017, p. 6151). Leonardo da Vinci’s block-and-tackle mechanism, in fact, predates the geojunggi by some 300 years and both deploy the same mechanical principles using multiple pulleys. One of the advantages of the ­geojunggi over the methods described by Schreck and Wang or Da Vinci was in the method of combining the movable pulley blocks and stones and dismantling them easily. It thus seems that the geojunggi was not a construction crane per se, but a piece of equipment for putting large stones onto carts for transportation into position on the walls and other related structures. It may have also been used for this purpose at the stone quarry site and most likely accomplished in the manner illustrated here (Kim, 2017, p. 6160). In essence, Jeong Yakyong, at the behest of King Jeongjo, created a strategy for carrying through a substantial national project by re-organizing the engineering knowledge that had been obtained into a systematic logic (Kim, 2017, p. 6161). During this period of the Late Joseon Dynasty, Western perspectival conventions gradually permeated culture and society, including deployment in architecture, even as Eastern oblique conventions remained dominant methods of architectural representation. This is particularly apparent in the Hwaseong seongyeok uigwe, a collection of books recording the construction of the Hwaseong Fortress (Yi, 2008). It is where an encounter between Western perspective and Eastern oblique views coincided in official documents. The 60 or so ‘diagrams’ (doseols) show an acceptance of oblique, perspectival and orthographic views, particularly in equivalent representations of aspects of the fortress like the main gates. Oblique views present architectural parts according to their true measurements, sizes, shapes and proportions. Perspectives, by contrast, show how an architectural object presents itself to an observer as a three-dimensional appearance. It is an approximate representation insofar as parts of an object become smaller as they are further away from the viewer. Also, foreshortening is incorporated whereby it occurs along the line of sight rather than across the line of sight. According to some, it was the exemplificational use of

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perspective that was most telling in these doseols, drawing on Nelson Goodman’s theoretical discussion and differences between modes of representation, such as description, depiction, exemplification and expression (Kim, 2018; and Goodman, 1976). Moreover, just as Erwin Panofsky strongly associated perspective with a Western “will to form”, Massimo Scolari refers to Chinese oblique parallel projection as a symbolic form profoundly rooted in Chinese pictorial experience (­Panofsky, 1997; and Scolari, 2012). To be sure, the presence of both ways of viewing in the record of the Hwaseong seongyeok uigwe was a new and modern step, promoted by the Silhak Movement in Korea. In 1800, a scant four years after the completion of the Hwaseong Fortress, King Jeongjo died and with him much of his legacy. The 5000-strong royal guard was disbanded and Hwaseong reverted to being just another town, although now a stop on the cross-country railroad between Seoul and Busan in the south. Jeongjo was succeeded by his son Sunjo (1800–1834) as the 23rd ruler of the Joseon Dynasty. This was also a period of a reaction in the form of the Sedo jeongchi (Rule and Politics of Power) under influential clans in Hanseong, the capital, who were more powerful than King Sunjo and his descendants. With substantial decline compounded by corruption, social stagnation and unrest, the Andong Kim Clan seized power in many parts of the country. During a further low ebb in Korean fortunes they installed, in turn, the illiterate Joseon descendant, Cheoljong, to the throne in 1849. Following his death in 1864, Heungseon-Daewongun ushered in another period of reform, as the Regent for his son Gojong, though attempting to return to the three Joseon systems of land tax, grain reform and military service and adherence to the five Confucian virtues as the hallmarks of civilization (Cumings, 1999, pp. 108–114). They were: 1. humanness (ren), including compassion and benevolence; 2. righteousness (yi) with justice and moral right; 3. ritual propriety (li) incorporating proper customs, social rituals and expectations; 4. knowledge (zhi), including understanding and familiarity with truth, facts and/or principles; and 5. integrity (xin) by adhering to good moral character. A staunch isolationist, he did, however, promote meritocracy in government service and the break-up of traditional agricultural hegemonies and particularly those sponsored by old Confucian academies.

Perspectival and Oblique Views of the Hwaseong Gate Structures

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Aerial View of Hwaseong Fortress, at Hwaseomun (West Gate)

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Aerial View of Hwaseong Fortress, at Janganmun (North Gate)

Aerial View of Hwaseong Fortress, at the Haenggung (Detached Palace)

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View of Hwaseong Fortress, at the Hwahongmun (Bridge and Pavilion over the Suwoncheon Stream)

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Consolidation of Power towards the Gwangmu Reforms After the marriage of King Gojong to Queen Min (later Empress Myeong­ seong, 1851–1895) a power struggled ensued, with Min attempting to block rising Japanese influence and support for Daewongun. The Gabo Reforms materialized in 1894 to 1896 under Gojong in response to the broad Donghak Peasant Movement and as a violent reaction to blatant government corruption and the need for agricultural change. These events also formed part of the pretext for the First Sino-Japanese War (1894–1895) through the refusal of Korea to refrain from close ties with China. In addition, as its name suggests, the Donghak Movement (Eastern Learning) was nationalistic in the face of increasing West­ ernization even in the hands of the Japanese. Queen Min was brutally assassinated in 1895 by the Japanese and dearly mourned by King Gojong. Her reform contributions included early engagement with the United States, modernization of printing and media, initiation of public education particularly for women, introduction of modern medicine and

even aspects of reform of the military (Cumings, 1999). Collectively, all these reform attempts, including those by Daewongun and others during the late 19th and early 20th centuries, are often grouped under the Gwangmu Reforms (Emperor’s Reforms) aimed at modernizing and westernizing Korea as something of a late starter in the industrial revolution. Again, as its name suggests, it was under Gojong that a fundamental background for future development was staged through the building of infrastructure, economic modernization and reform, and the creation of the nuclei for a modern bureaucracy and military. More specifically, when Gojong returned to Deoksugung after seeking refuge in the Russian Legation, he proclaimed the Korean Empire. Systematic measures for abolishing the traditional class structure were introduced. Western-style dress was adopted widely. The military was increased in size and modernized, especially with help from the Russians. A cadastral survey was undertaken for establishing property boundaries and rights. New infrastructure was introduced, especially with regard to safe water and long-distance telephone calling. Industry was encouraged through technical and industrial schools, along with new machinery in the important areas of weaving and spinning. A more comprehensive educational system was introduced with elementary and secondary schools. Health care was greatly improved, particularly with regard to sanitation and vaccination programs (Cumings, 1999, pp. 120–138). Now a fundamental part of this spiraling sequence of events was the restoration of Gyeongbokgung under Daewongun, as a symbol of the ultimate power and authority of Joseon dynastic rule and particularly that of his son, King Gojong. Gyeongbokgung was the largest and really ‘first’ among five royal palaces, dating back to the founding of the capital, Hanyang. Having defeated and essentially collapsed the earlier regime, King Taejo, the first of the Joseon kings, went looking for a new auspicious place to found his capital and to move away from Songdo where he resided. He dispatched a number of missions in that quest from the Bureau of Palace Construction in the New Capital (Sindo Gunggwol Dogam). Very much in the thrall of geomantic principles (pungsu), they came upon what became Hanyang (now Seoul) in 1394. Soon numerous laborers were drafted to construct the new city and its palace, a task initially completed in 1396. Among auspicious

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Principal Areas of Hanyang

geomantic characteristics of the site were its coincidence with encircling mountains from the north, west and south, with the main palace site for Gyeongbokgung located on the foothill of the well-lit and propitious southern slope of the encircling mountains. To the south of the palace site, a lower hill fenced the city off, and still further south a river flowed in an east-west direction (the present-day Han River). A relatively large basin of flat land resulted from this inscription, making Hanyang one of the most qualified sites in all of Korea for settlement. It embraced the geomantic harmony of wind and water and was serviced by ample fresh water from the Cheonggyecheon stream flowing through it. There the Joseon established and developed a city of balanced size (Yoon, 2006, p. 235f). Although there is a competing narrative or legend involving the monk Muhak, it seems that official records of repeated searches for an auspicious site, providing for everyone but particularly for the Joseon at the founding of their dynasty, are most likely to be reasonably accurate. Originally, Gyeongbokgung was constructed beginning in 1395 as the primary palace of the Joseon Dynasty. The second palace was Changdeokgung, built beginning in 1412, and among the other three of five palaces, Deoksugung was regularly occupied by the king later, after the Imjin War with Japan in the 16th century. The other two palaces (Changgyeonggung and Gyeonghuigung) arguably hosted less significant longer-term circumstances and both were subsequently dismantled to make way for public parks, although Gyeonghuigung was partially restored much later on (Korean Institute of Architects, 1985). Prior to its restoration in 1867, Gyeongbokgung was damaged by fire in 1553 and refurbished by King Myeongjong in 1554. It was then comprehensively destroyed during the Imjin War (1592–1598) in fighting with the Japanese and abandoned for some 273 years as the Joseon Court moved to its second palace at next-door Changdeokgung in the Jongno District of what is now Seoul (Yi, 2014). Parenthetically, this sort of displacement was customary elsewhere in East Asia among the aristocracy. The daimyo class in Edo, Japan, for instance, routinely had three compounds: one near the Shogun, another some ways away in the Yamanote (Upper City) and yet another still further removed from central Edo. One reason for this was the need to refurbish and

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to be prepared for the threat of fire (Sansom, 1968, p. 35f.) After so much time had lapsed in Hanyang, clearly restoration of the primary palace was a strong potential symbol of considerable importance to the Joseon regime as Heungseon-Daewongun (1820–1899) just as clearly recognized at a time when he was locked in a struggle and when the dynasty was under potential threat, not least from foreign and non-Confucian incursions. At once he set about to supervise the palace restoration at least in its appearances to what was believed to be its former glory. Indeed, it was these appearances, rather than antiquarian accuracy, that were at stake for political purposes. On its 42-hectare, roughly rectangular site this involved some 330 buildings, 5,792 rooms along with gardens, walls, gates, pagodas, a canal, lakes and bridges (Hoon, 2008). At the time there were few, if any, reliable sources for restoring the palace to the way it was at the beginning of the Joseon Dynasty. Entirely modern additions were made in the form of plumbing, water-closets, ondol floors and evolved building techniques and materials. In essence, the restoration was scenographically and symbolically compelling if not entirely authentic in all its details. This was also a time, elsewhere in the world, when historic preservation, conservation and restoration of major relics were undergoing intense activity, scrutiny and debate, with rising differences about the appropriateness of various approaches (Choay, 2001).

The Gyeong­ bokgung Restoration From its ruins and other archaeologic and architectural evidence, Gyeongbokgung was laid out in a manner that conformed very much to Chinese prescriptions for an urban palace and capital. This is not surprising given the Sinic-tributary nature of Korea that has so often been ascribed to it (Eckert, Lee and Lew et al., 1990). Among these prescriptions one obvious one is the Wangcheng Plan inherent in the Kaogongji of the Zhou Li, inscribing a rectangular walled compound, with orientation and gates reflecting the four cardinal points, a ceremonial complex at or near its center and a grid of roads, also defining wards of occupation (Xu, 2000, p. 46). No doubt the Forbidden City in Beijing also served as a well-known model of a Chinese capital (Steinhardt, 1990). To begin with, Gyeongbokgung is aligned along a north-south axis, with Mount Bugak on the north and the Cheonggyecheon stream running east-west through the center of Hanyang, to the south. This conforms very well to feng shui, or geomantic principles, and reflects the lines of chi and other wind and water components of early geomantic discoveries favoring Hanyang’s site and the palace location within it. The formal layout along the axis is also more or less equally distributed, as in the Chinese examples from south to north, through an Outer Court (oejeon) composed mainly of the throne hall, followed by offices for the King and his officials. Behind or to the north is the Inner Court (naejeon), or Court, composed of the living

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Overview of the Restoration of Gyeongbokgung Palace 1 Geunjeongjeon Hall 2 Sujeongjeon Hall 3 Gyeonghoeru Pavilion 4 Sajeongjeon Hall 5 Gangnyeongjeon Hall 6 Gyotaejeon Hall and Amisan Garden 7 Donggung 8 Sojubang Kitchen 9 Jagyeongjeon Hall 10 Hyangwonjeong Pavilion and Geoncheonggung Palace 11 Jibokjae Hall 12 Taewonjeon Hall

quarters of the royal family with first the king and then the queen, as shown in the accompanying plan layout. Entrance to the Outer Court is secured through the massive southern gate (Gwanghwamun), crossing a canal, somewhat analogous to the moat and inner water stream of Beijing’s Forbidden City in good feng shui standing, to a second gate (­Heungnyemun) before entering the spacious and grand walled courtyard of the Throne Hall (­Geunjeongjeon) and then on to a third gate (Geunjeongmun) into the Executive Office Quarters with its three pavilions and surrounding arcade of offices (Sajeongjeon). The Crown Prince’s Palace (donggung) is set off from the Sajeongjeon ensemble to the eastern side, with the Office of Scholars (Sujeongjeon) to the west in a roughly symmetrical fashion. At Gyeongbokgung, as in Chinese models, this overall arrangement is well demarcated, rectilinear and walled (Hoon, 2008). Departures from this strict, rectilinear, almost hard-edged arrangement of the Chinese model begin to occur with the King and Queen’s quarters (Gangnyeongjeon and Gyotaejeon) continuing along the main axis to the north. The splendid Royal Banquet Hall in its enlarged rectangular lake (Gyotaejeon), which was first constructed in 1412 before being burned in 1592, is aligned to the west of these quarters and in line with the overall complex’s West Gate (Yeongchumun). Balancing this out, so to speak, on the east is the Late Queen’s or Dowager’s compound (Jagyeongjeon). From then on as one moves north towards Mount Bugak, an arrangement of building compounds and gardens unfolds somewhat less formally, culminating with the residence of the Empress Myeongseong (Min), which she also shared with King Gojong in happier times before her assassination in 1895 at the hands of the Japanese. The rather striking and more modern library (Jihak-jae) sits off to the west near to the North Gate (Sinmumun). In between is a hexagonal pavilion in a lake (Hyangwonjeong), reached by the longest wooden bridge in the Joseon Dynasty (Chwihyanggyo). This ensemble was not a part of the original layout and was added, on axis, by King Gojong. Throughout this description the naming and location of buildings and other constructed artifacts conforms to the most recent restoration of Gyeongbokgung that was undertaken in the 1990s and still continues fairly accurately with what was known of the 19th century restoration.

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The full thrust of the labyrinth of 330-odd buildings and arcades that would have comprised this restoration by Daewongun was destroyed, again by the Japanese, during the full-fledged occupation of Hanyang (then Keijo) after 1910. Certainly by 1915 and through use of the palace site as an industrial exhibition, fully 90 percent of the buildings had been removed (Hoon, 2008). The majestic Gwanghwamun (South Gate) was also destroyed during the Korean War of 1950 to 1953, when Seoul was run over at least twice. During the long interregnum before this palpable symbol of the Joseon Dynasty was restored, as mentioned earlier, Changdeokgung was the royal palace after its restoration from destruction in 1592 and 1616. Then in 1897, after his 13-month sojourn in the Russian Legation, King Gojong returned to Deoksugung under mounting pressure and expanded it somewhat in 1907 before abdicating in favor of his son Sunjong and dying there in 1919, touching off the anti-Japanese Independence Movement of March First (Yoon, 1992, pp. 128 and 106). Certainly by 1900 a position had been reached in Korea, during the waning days of the Joseon Dynasty, when modernity was on the rise especially in the wake of needed reforms and socio-political as well as cultural realignments. Nevertheless, the monarchy still survived and the crossroad that Korea found itself in was amply characterized by deeply felt needs to move forward but also to recognize affiliations with the past. As argued here, this was also reflected in the two massive contemporary imperial projects under discussion – namely, the Hwaseong Fortress and the restoration of Gyeongbokgung: one looking forward, as it were, and the other looking backward. The cracks that were appearing in the isolationist edifice of the ‘Hermit Kingdom’, as alluded to earlier, were also allowing the arrival of outside foreign influences. These were beginning to change and diversify the composition of Korea’s architecture, particularly in Hanyang. One style of building in particular came by way of China, dating back to the original Treaty Port settlements and Shanghai. This was the so-called compradoric style built under the management of Chinese compradors or ‘middle men’ and agents in trade between the Chinese hinterlands and Western sources of finance and importation. Buildings along Shanghai’s Bund and Nanjing Road, for instance, often had an air of grandeur and

Overview of Deoksugung Palace

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Oblique View of Gyeongbokgung Palace

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View of Jibokjae (Private Library) at Gyeongbokgung Palace

View of Gyeonghoeru Pavilion (Banquet Hall) at Gyeongbokgung Palace

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View of the Gyeongbokgung Palace Laneway Environment

of wealth. They tended to be quite similar and formed a sub-genre of a style of what might be more broadly seen as Italianate villas, wrapped, as it were, with arcades and verandahs. Alternatively, they could also be regarded, especially in British hands, as deriving from Bengalese bungalows, or similar Asian structures, while also adapting Western classical features. Either way, the architectural result was a distinctly practical and efficient type of Western-Shanghainese style of building, popular during the 1850s to the 1890s (Kornegay, 2019). At least by the turn of the 19th into the 20th century, compradoric-styled buildings began to appear in Korea in reasonable numbers. They could be seen, for instance, in the multi-storied brick structures with arcades and verandahs in the heart of Hanyang’s Legation District of Jeongdong. In particular, the British Legation building, designed largely by Her Majesty’s Office of Works in Shanghai, which also produced a number of such projects in the 1890s. In effect, this style and the Chinese brick architecture followed British representatives into Korea (Kornegay, 2019; and Holmes, 1908). Around the same time this style of architecture seems to have caught King Gojong’s eye as he returned to Deoksugung. Next to the palace the Sontag Hotel was built in 1902 as the first European hotel in Hanyang. It was bestowed by King Gojong to Antoinette Sontag, the sister-in-law of the Russian Ambassador Karl Waeber. Composed of 25 rooms, it was a brick building with a symmetrical facade of three bays on each side of a central axial aligned entry. A two-story Customs House building was also constructed by Gojong in a compradoric style with deep arcades and verandahs on the palace grounds. Prior to this, one of the very first compradoric-style structures was built for the German firm of Meyer & Co. in 1886 at Jemulpo, on the coast near present-day Incheon. Other compradoric-style structures were also built by the Russian Legation in Nanyang, including its tall tower, and by the Italian Consulate. Also at Deoksugung, Gojong built Jeonggwanheon, his ‘tea house’ in 1901.

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The British Legation in Contemporary Style, 1890s

The Sontag Hotel, Hanyang, 1902

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King Gojong’s Tea House (Jeonggwanheon) at Deoksugung

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Seokjojeon

In 1900, King Gojong demolished the Customs House at Deoksugung to make way for the majestic Seokjojeon that was to be his palace residence. Completed in 1909, it was apparently suggested by John Leary Brown, an imperial accountant, in 1897. The palace was designed by John Reginald Harding, a Welshman, along with two other Britons, Messrs. Davidson in a supervisory role and Lovell for the elaborate rococo interiors (Limb, 2014). It was completed in 1910 and was essentially the seat of government during the short-lived Korean Empire (Daehan) from 1897 to 1910. Originally built for residential purposes, it was mostly used as a banquet hall and reception, as well as audience place. Three stories in height, it was made with a modern construction technique of a steel structure clad in masonry. The first floor housed official work-spaces and the capacious audience chamber. The second floor hosted private living quarters as did the third floor. The exterior is in a strong neo-classical style, with columns with Ionic capitals rising the full height of the building. Symmetrically disposed in layout and architecturally well articulated, the main facade is composed of six equal bays to either side of a front portal and triangular pediment of five bays in width. A stone stairway aligned with the central axis of symmetry rises up to the first floor and in front is an English-style garden and fountain. Also, by its completion and occupation, Hanyang – if not Korea – had adopted, like Seokjojeon, many Western-style modern accoutrements and modes of expression (Yoon and Gui, 2017).

The Exterior and Interior of Seokjojeon, 1909

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Under the Thumb of Colonial Rule

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As mentioned in the introduction, Korea was formally annexed to Japan in 1910 with Prime Minister Yi Wan-yong signing the Treaty of ­Annexation on behalf of Emperor Sunjong. The 35-year period of ensuing colonial rule earned the enmity of the Korean people, rivaling if not surpassing that from the invasion by Hideyoshi in the Imjin War of the late 16th century. Indeed, Japanese rule was purposeful and thoroughgoing, changing all aspects of life. The Governor-General Terauchi Musatake (1910–1916) posited that assimilation of the Korean people into Japanese society was the long-term goal of the colonial exercise and, as one group of historians put it, “in the name of progress, protection and brotherly ties” (Eckert, Lee and Lew et al., 1990, p. 265). Since 1876, or thereabout, the Japanese had gained international acquiescence to their designs and effectively Korea ceased to exist in the world of nation-states, capped off in a way by the demobilization of the Korean army in 1907 (Eckert, Lee and Lew et al., 1990, p. 253). Japanese colonization was arguably different from Western colonization in a number of regards. First, close proximity to the metropole of Tokyo encouraged Japanese emigration and intensified ties in large amounts. It was not a far-flung colony across the seas. By 1940, for instance, 708,418 Japanese resided in Korea, accounting for 3.2 percent of the total population. Second, unlike Western power conquests, Japan could not simply establish authority in what was effectively a vacuous circumstance. They had to establish control over an ancient state and society with a high degree of racial, ethnic and cultural homogeneity (Eckert, Lee and Lew et al., 1990, p. 256). Third, the Governor-General’s power was absolute and autonomous and not subject to quite the same divisions often encountered in Western colonial rule. In fact, power was centralized in a large Japanese bureaucracy moving well down to local levels. The Japanese could not rely on connections to local elites as a form of indirect rule, as often happened with the British, for example, and therefore they had to rule Korea directly. Consequently, the bureaucracy needed expansion from around 10,000 in 1910 to 87, 552 in 1937, most of whom were Japanese. Outside that immediate realm of formal government it was probably more like 246,000 Japanese participants (Eckert, Lee and Lew et al., 1990, p. 257). This compares to a Western power – France, for instance – fielding 2,920 administrators and 10,776

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troops in Vietnam with a slightly lower but comparable population to Korea of around 17 million inhabitants. In Korea fully 42 percent of the Japanese population were involved in governance. Fourth, in the earlier times of the Joseon, traditional governance allowed for considerable local autonomy. Not so with the Japanese. Moreover, for the Japanese the general laws and rights that flowed from the Meiji Constitution applied, although not so for the Koreans. Finally, the build-up of the colonial police force was substantial to a point in 1941 when there was a ratio of officers to population of around 1:400 and involvement in all aspects of Korean life. It had become a ‘police state’. Other historians and commentators have made similar remarks about the nature and intents of Japanese colonialism and its differences with Western powers (Myer and Peattie, 1984, and Young, 1999). Overall, it appears that the main difference is in the scale and scope of Japanese intervention and occupation, along with the directness of their rule. Also, the Japanese went well beyond simply resource extraction or strategic global location, towards fuller assimilation.

Korean-Owned Factories Japanese-Owned Factories Ratio of Japanese

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Map of Korean- and Japanese-Owned Factories in 1936

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1 000,000 Agricultural Products 750,000 Ore 550,000 Finished Products 250,000 Forest Products 0 1914

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Freight Traffic on the Korean Railway in Yen (1910–1922)

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Transport Activities and Profits Index for the Korean Railway

Graphs of Korean Railway Production under Japanese Influence, 1910–1922

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Three Phases of Colonial Rule Generally, Japanese colonial rule can be divided into at least three temporal phases or periods. The first was between 1910 and 1919 and is sometimes referred to as the ‘Dark Period of Colonial Rule’’ because of the repression of political and cultural life involved. The press was effectively blocked out, arrests of political dissenters were numerous, with 50,000 or so in 1912 alone (Eckert, Lee and Lew et al., 1990, p. 261). The education system was substantially modified to one that would allegedly socialize Koreans to be good citizens in the Japanese Empire. Land was most important for wealth in traditional Korea, as noted in the last chapter on a number of occasions. The Governor-General set about to codify a land tenure system in order to establish an effective land-tax through the conduct of land surveys by the Land Survey Bureau. In effect, this became a Japanese ‘land grab’, as most of the former royal lands that were very numerous and large became confiscated, making the Japanese government the largest landowner. This was further compounded by the Oriental Development Company, chartered in 1907, which acquired massive amounts of agricultural land on behalf of Japan. Developments in communication and economic development also strengthened the Japanese colonial hand. By 1905, for instance, the Japanese controlled all telecommunications. Railroads involving those extending through Korea into Manchuria by the Japanese Southern Manchurian Railway Company (SMRC) were completely in Japanese hands, allowing the SMRC to develop into a

powerful communications and industrial conglomerate certainly by 1933. With similar intentions of economic domination, the Japanese constructed a network of some 53,000 kilometers of main roadways (Coox, 1990, p. 1078; Young, 1999, p. 25f; and Kato, 2006). This was all in addition to commercial establishments where, after a very slow start in the late 19th century, entrepreneurship by Koreans began to flourish, although it was penalized by the lack of capitalization compared to Japanese competitors and the wealth of clients. A second phase took place between 1919 and 1931 and came on the heels of American President Woodrow Wilson’s Fourteen Point Plan at the Treaty of Versailles, which emphasized humanism and selfdetermination in a way that was encouraging to colonies like Korea (Hannigan, 2016, pp. 125–129). Churches also entered the fray on the side of independence or self-determination, especially with the ‘Religion of the Heavenly Way’, alongside of the Buddhists. To some extent this religion can be seen as a moderate offshoot of the D ­ onghak ­Movement of the 19th century. With the death of Gojong and the associated March 1 st, 1919, demonstrations, though they failed in their immediate aims, subsequently they laid the foundation for an independence movement (Eckert, Lee and Lew, et al., 1990). Admiral Saito Makato was appointed Governor-General in 1919 and set about to change the image of Japanese rule in Korea and to make policy more efficient. This ushered in some social concessions, including a Korean Advisory Council. Consequently, the first part of the 1920s was not as ‘dark’ or seemingly repressive as the preceding years of colonial rule. The Society for the Establishment of a Normal University was founded in 1922, with the aim of rectifying the overly pro-Japanese cast of tertiary education and, in commerce, the Korean Production Movement emerged to heighten the presence of Korean enterprise in the marketplace. Both movements essentially failed but again set a tone for further resistance against Japan. Then, with the founding of the Korean Communist Party in 1920 and 1921, left-wing politics also emerged, although constantly persecuted through the 1925 Peace Preservation Law, licensing direct police interference. The United Front that arose in the 1920s made a mark, though it also failed to gain traction (Eckert, Lee and Lew et al., 1990, pp. 270–304).

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City Map of Keijo, 1927

A third phase amounted to forced assimilation, militarization and war (Eckert, Lee and Lew et al., 1990, pp. 305–326). As noted earlier, the Kwantung Army of Japan, a security force for the Kwantung Leased Territory on the Liaotong Peninsular and the South Manchurian Railway Zone extending northward, concocted the Mukden Incident allowing it to attack the Chinese and central Manchuria. The ‘Dark Valley Decade’ in Japan, as it is often referred to, began with the nation becoming more isolated, militaristic and fascist, though pursuing its plans with a more positive spin as the Greater East-Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere (Yellen, 2019). Also in 1931 the puppet state of Manchuko was established in northern China, with the Japanese openly coveting the region’s agricultural and mineral resources as raw materials for their expansion activities. Effectively, Manchuria became a Japanese industrial base built around the SMRC. The population of Korea increased substantially from 15 million to 24 million inhabitants between 1910 and 1940, putting pressure on land resources, among other assets. This raised rents, placing peasant farmers in vulnerable situations and leading to a general deterioration of rural life in Korea. With the manufacturing and industrial expansion that occurred in the 1930s, trading and retailing also became prominent modern activities. Certainly by 1940 the structure of Korea’s economy had altered, with manufacturing rising from around 18 percent in 1910 to fully 40 percent by 1939, along with a doubling of the manufacturing workforce (Cha and Kim, 2012, pp. 60–74). This increase in demand pushed many land-based peasants into the industrial workforce. Then after 1937 and with broader prosecution of war by Japan in East and Southeast Asia, the Governor-General closed down agriculture of all types and encouraged Japanese organizations to create ways to bring Koreans into the war effort on Japan’s side. Mass organizations, like the Korean Federation of Youth, for instance, became an essential part of Japan’s assimilation policy. It also affected recruitment, with more Koreans entering government and the military. The final phase of colonial rule, between 1941 and 1945, even saw Koreans being recruited into the Japanese Imperial Army. In fact, this began as early as 1938. Most Koreans, however, were mobilized into factories to contribute to the Japanese war effort (Eckert, Lee and Lew et al., 1990, p. 263).

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The General Government Building in situ, 1912–1926

Architectural Symbols of Colonial Rule As mentioned in the introduction, architectural production during this period could be sub-divided among at least three groups: the Japanese, Western foreigners and Koreans. Not unexpectedly, Japanese architects were primarily involved in the design and construction of major government buildings, like the Government General of Joseon Headquarters Building, and representative buildings for other phases of occupation, such as the Keijo Imperial University buildings with the 1930s changes in tertiary education, and the Mitsukoshi Department Store in commerce during the same period. The Government General of Joseon Headquarters Building (1912–1926), also known simply as the Japanese General Government Building (Joseon-Chongdokbu Cheongsa), was deliberately constructed on the site of the Gyeong­ bokgung complex. The aim was to block the view of the Korean imperial palace, looming over the Gwanghwamun gateway as a way of emphatically symbolizing and legitimizing Japanese colonial rule over Korea. Deeper than that, returning for a moment to the auspicious siting of Gyeongbokgung described earlier, the General Government Building essentially blocked the geomantic and important lines of chi from the mountains in the north to the south. In other words, not only did the building loom large in visual perception of the capital, Keijo, but it also had a destructive impact on the geomantic harmony and proscription of Hanyang itself. The largest government building at

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the time in East Asia, it also served as the main administrative center and seat of the Governor-General of Korea. Originally designed by Georg de Lalande (1872–1914), a Prussian-German architect, it was completed under Ichiro Nomura (1868–1942) working with Hiroshi Kunjieda (1879–1943) alongside the Korean architect Gilryong Park (1898–1943). As a part of the team, De Lalande was based in Yokohama, Japan, having graduated from what is now the Technical University of Berlin in 1894 and taken over the practice in Japan of Richard Seel’s office in 1903. Among other work by De Lalande are the Royal Prussian Building Offices in Breslau, the Oriental Hotel in Kobe of 1907 and several buildings completed after his death in both Japan and Korea. Ichiro  Nomura, who took over, was the architect along with Dogo Fukada of the Taipei Guest House (1899–1901). This was an elegant French Second Empire–style building, originally used as the residence of the Japanese Governor-General of Taiwan. Like the General Government Building in Keijo, it was neo-classical in overall style with a mansard roof and high Roman pillars on its front portico. Reminiscent of many neo-classical government buildings in the United States and Europe, dating back at least into the late 18 th century, the  Japanese General Government Building in Keijo was designed to be free-standing and imposing. Nevertheless, similar buildings, such as the Berlin Reichstag (completed in 1894) and the earlier U.S. Capitol Building (finished in 1800), also became strong architectural symbols of governments but of very different persuasions (Miller Lane, 1985). In fact, the Keijo building preceded the Diet Building in Tokyo – Japan’s legislature – by some ten years, though in a similar architectural style. Also like the Diet, the General Government Building appears to have been aimed to be like the administrative structures of the other so-called Great Powers rather than uniquely Japanese in shape and appearance (Reynolds, 1996). Clearly here the association of identity was of Japan being or becoming one of the Great Powers rather than a unique Asian island nation. More specifically, the General Government Building was rectangular in plan, with two imposing internal courts and a symmetrical disposition of building mass around a central entry with portico and dome and with slightly protruding stair towers at each of its four corners, as shown in the accompanying illustrations.

The General Government Building, Front Facade, 1912–1916

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The City Hall of Keijo, 1926

Constructed of gray granite cladding on a steel frame, common at the time, it was generally four stories in height, although the lower floor was partially a basement. The exterior walls were relatively unadorned, except for well-composed bays of windows. The prominent dome was copper-plated, again in keeping with precedents elsewhere at the time. Though not conforming entirely to the dictates of Teiken Yoshiki (Imperial Crown Style) that became de rigueur for administrative and military buildings in the Japanese colonies by 1935, the overall massing and neo-classical styling of the General Government Building was verging in that direction. Other similar buildings, again for administrative purposes, emerged in Korea at much the same time, such as the City Hall in Keijo of 1926 illustrated here, designed by the then Chief of Building and Maintenance Section of the Japanese Government General in Korea (Korean Institute of Architects, 1985, p. 34). The Seoul Station Building, or Keijo Station, of 1925 was also designed in a neo-classical vein by Yasushi Tsukamoto (1869–1937), Dean of the Faculty of Engineering at Tokyo Imperial University. Being an element of the rail link through Korea to Manchuria and northern China, the building formed an intrinsic part of Japan’s hegemonic advances in East Asia. The station is a copy of the larger Tokyo Station that Tatsuno Kingo (1854–1919) completed in Chiyoda-ku in 1904. The Keijo ­Station is 17,200 square meters in area, located in central Seoul. It is a mixed-stone and brick building, two stories tall with a basement level, as shown in the accompanying illustration. According to at least one source, it overwhelmed Keijo with its size and was intended as the major gateway to the city before the automobile era (Korean Institute of Architects, 1985, p. 58). Throughout the Japanese colonial campaigns in Korea and northern China, railroads and especially steam locomotives were symbols of modern progress. The first floor of the station was a waiting room, made up of a large hall in the center with a Byzantine-style neo-classical dome forming the upper roof and allowing sunlight to shine down into the waiting area. Designed in a so-called Palladian classical style, the building had a certain muscularity to it, particularly in its centralized layout with adjoining building masses and conspicuous roof segments.

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The Keijo Railway Station, Exterior, 1925

The Keijo Railway Station, Interior, 1925

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Later on, in the 1930s, paralleling the earlier discussion of phases of Japanese occupation, educational facilities began to appear, also strongly imbued with Japanese imperial ambitions. Again, the buildings of the institutions were eclectic but also of Western, mainly European, origins, reflecting again an identity of being modern and in tune with tertiary educational universities elsewhere in the world. Unlike in China, even under foreign institutional support the idea of a local Korean architecture was argued for in order to make the educational environment more familiar and therefore conducive to education (Rowe and Kuan, 2002, p. 65). After all, the Japanese ambition was assimilation and good Japanese citizenship, as a way of improving allegiance to the colonial power instead of indigenous self-determination. In Korea, the new educational institutions also enjoyed alignments with wellknown Japanese universities. The Keijo Imperial College, for instance, was designed by  the Government General of Joseon Architecture Department, led by Yoshiyuki Iwatsuki and with Gilryong Park as a team member. Indeed, Keijo Imperial University was called Jodai for short and constituted one of only two imperial universities located outside of Japan. The administrative building, completed in 1931, was of a similar style as other well-established Japanese universities like Todai, for example, or Keio, again in Tokyo, as well as Kyoto University. This was a style of symmetrical main facades with centralized entries and a layering back of the building form from the portico of the main entrance, as shown in the accompanying illustration. Mostly constructed in brick, often with arched windows, these structures were contrived to establish a pleasing older conservative look. Much later, in 1946, Jodai joined with other institutions to become Seoul National University, South Korea’s preeminent tertiary-level institution. ­Gilryong Park, a Korean who worked on the project, was a first-generation Korean-educated architect with Japanese training, graduating from Gyeongseong Higher Technical School in 1919 and beginning to work with the Government General in 1920 before opening his own office in 1934.

Keijo Imperial College, 1931

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Keijo Imperial College, 1931

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Ewha Women’s University, 1934

The Ewha Women’s University campus of the 1930s also has a venerable-looking conservative architecture style, comprised of buildings in what is often referred to as traditional Gothic. Designed by William Merrell Vories (1880–1964), the Music Hall dates from 1934. A Chinese architect, Yun Gang, also worked on the project. Ewha University was founded in 1886 by Mary F. Scranton under King Gojong; the campus is located in Seodaemun, Seoul. The traditional Gothic style is composed of three- to four-storied buildings with pitched roofs, rusticated and plain stonework, punctuated by pairings of windows and pointed pilasters with arched doorways. Now comprising some 30 or more buildings, the total floor space is well over 200,000 square meters. Moving to its present location in 1919, the two-story Main Hall, among many buildings, was also designed by Yun Gang and completed in 1935. The five-story Main Auditorium is also well known, though dating from the 1950s, as is the recent Student Center by Dominique Perrault. The earlier architect, William Merrell Vories, was born in the United States but became a naturalized Japanese citizen. He was also an evangelist who founded the Omi Mission in 1918 and had opened his office of architectural design earlier in 1908 (Larking, 2008). Other buildings of note by him are the 1923 Daimaru Department Store in Osaka, Japan. All told, the strongly Japanese-aligned architecture of this period was Western in origin and with an associated identity of aligning Japan with other imperial nations of the world and colonial powers of the time. Again, there was little to no attempt to be locally or regionally unique in what might be seen as a Korean or Japanese manner.

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Places of Worship in the Manner of the West From at least the second phase of the Japanese occupation, as noted earlier, churches and other religious organizations, like the Buddhists, began to play a stronger role in society and as an alternative to that which was strictly Japanese. However, also as noted in an earlier chapter, entry of Christianity into Korea reached back much earlier in time in the Joseon Dynasty, when it was roughly persecuted, except by members of the Silhak Movement, whose anti-Christian attitudes were tempered due largely to their movement’s egalitarian values. Later in the dynasty, Catholicism gained ground in Korea due to the efforts of French missionaries, especially in the late 19 th century. The Cathedral Church of Virgin Mary of the Immaculate Conception, or the Myeong-dong Cathedral, as it was called more informally, was located in the southwest downtown area of Keijo on a vacant lot on ‘Bell Hill’ (Chong-Hyen). Initially a school was built there by Gustave Blanc, the Bishop of Korea. The plans to build a church came about under the supervision of the French priest Eugène Coste. The First Joseon Diocese was created there with a seminary of 60 rooms. However, King Gojong opposed construction and threatened to confiscate the land.

Myeong-dong Cathedral, 1898

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Apparently Gojong’s disdain for the cathedral was partly grounded in the circumstance that it would be higher than the royal palace. In 1887 he took steps to stop the project before doing an about-face in 1892, allowing the construction to move ahead. After further delay of completion due to the Sino-Japanese War and the death of substitute Bishop Eugène Coste, inauguration took place in 1898, with the cathedral then as the largest single building in Hanyang. It was constructed with some 20 different types of red bricks, with an overall height of 23 meters, moving up to 45 meters with the completion of the single tall steeple and clock tower in 1905. It was the first Gothic-style church in Korea to be constructed of brick and in a traditional Latin cross plan layout. The crypt beneath the altar housed the relics of nine church martyrs, and stained-glass windows depicted the nativity of Jesus, the adoration of the Magi and the 15 Mysteries of the Rosary. The reverse side of the building had a dome structure above the altar and a rounded section in plan about two stories in height (Seoul International Publishing House, 1983). Much later on, the Roman Catholic clergy were leading critics of military governments of the 1970s and ‘80s. Indeed, they were at the center of human rights protests and the cathedral was a prominent refuge for political protesters (Lee, 2002). The Anglican Cathedral of Seoul, by contrast, was built later and in a Romanesque style, expressing both another Western form of architecture in Korea as well as a schism between Catholics and Protestants, felt there as well as elsewhere in the world. Officially called the Cathedral Church of St. Mary and St. Nicholas, the church was begun in 1922 on land purchased, again in the southwest downtown of Keijo, in 1909. However, like the Catholic Cathedral, its commissioning dated back into the Joseon Dynasty, taking place in 1890 at the hands of Bishop John Corfe. Construction began under the third Bishop, Mark Trollop, and with the English architect Arthur Stansfield Dixon (1856–1929). Born in Birmingham, England, he was very much a part of the Arts and Crafts Movement in Britain at the time. Indeed, Pevsner apparently described him as “an Anglo-Catholic Socialist who associated Gothic with establishment conservatism and dreary Anglican piety” (Pevsner, 1937, p. 10). Dixon was a friend of William Morris, one of the luminaries of the movement and founder of the Birmingham Guild of Handicraft.

Dixon went on to design the Romanesque-styled Church of St. John and St. Basil in 1910 in Birmingham. His Anglican Cathedral in Keijo (Seoul) is renowned for the expression of Romanesque style in its red brick walls and strong granite base. With this pairing of two cathedrals in Korea, there is a contrast of architectural expression as distinct as the differences in Christian denominations. In addition, the churches, like the government buildings around them, were not appearing to be particularly Korean or more likely Japanese, other than by way of reference to churches elsewhere in the developed world and among the so-called Great Powers. Again, this echoes Japan’s aspirations and its modern architectural developmental directions.

Keijo Anglican Cathedral, 1926

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Two Department Stores and Modernity In 1930 the venerable Japanese retailer Mitsukoshi expanded with a branch store in Keijo. The company dated back to the sale of kimonos by Takatoshi Mitsui as far back as 1637 in Edo’s Shitimachi (Russell, 2012). Mitsukoshi, rooted in the Mitsui zaibatsu (corporate conglomerate), built Japan’s first department store in accord with the Department Store Declaration of 1904, as shown here. It was a neo-classical edifice in the Ginza district, completed in 1930 and simply called Mitsukoshi Ginza, presenting a unified concept of luxury goods’ marketing and one-stop shopping among several different semi self-contained ‘departments’ or collections of goods. Like all Japanese department stores and chains of retailers, it had provided profitable support to the state from the turn of the 19 th into the 20 th centuries. Between 1904 and 1905 during the Russo-Japanese War, for instance, Mitsukoshi sold decorative towels, handkerchiefs and flags with images of Japanese triumphs. The company fairly cheered at the growth of the Japanese colonial empire and created outposts abroad, such as branches in Keijo, Korea, and Dalian, China. It was a self-proclaimed mediator of Western modernity in Asia. The Keijo store, for instance, was a magnet for Korean ‘modern girls’ and ‘modern boys’ just like during earlier

Mitsukoshi Department Store in situ, 1930

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Mitsukoshi Department Store, Facade, 1930

times in Tokyo (moba and mobo youth), as well as for members of the intelligentsia who leaned towards Western modernization in the Japanese mode (North Carolina State University, 2018). Department stores had been around for some time as a modern form of merchandizing based on scale and convenience, judging from the opening of Au Bon Marché in Paris in 1838 and Harrods in London beyond its humble beginnings in 1883, or Macy’s in New York in 1878 (Whitaker, 2011). However, Japan was not very far behind them in many aspects during the Meiji Restoration (1868–1912) and playing catch-up with the Western powers that they openly admired. The Keijo branch of ­Mitsukoshi was designed by the in-house group of architects at Mitsukoshi and particularly by Kokei Hayashi. It was large and prominent on its corner site in the southwest central area of the city, as illustrated here. The building was five stories tall with a curvilinear facade turning across its corner site and a central entrance prominently in the apex of the curve. The main body of the facade was well defined and topped by a single floor all the way around and evenly punctuated by square windows. It was art deco in style, as were many larger buildings at that time in Japan, making an architectural break with tradition that first began to emerge in France in the 1920s, often understood to represent luxury, glamor and belief in social and technical progress (Hillier, 1968). Certainly the Mitsukoshi Department Store in Keijo, as one commentator put it, “created a comfortable, exciting, yet socially acceptable way for Korean women to actively participate in modern life” (Kendall, 2011, p. 53). Much later, in 1945, the store was acquired by Lee Byung-chul, the founder of the Samsung Group. It was renamed the Donghwa Department Store, before becoming Shinsegae (New World) in 1963 (Farfan, 2018).

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While the Mitsukoshi Department Store took care primarily of a Japanese clientele, particularly given its location in Keijo at that time, a more Korean clientele was well served by the Hwasin Department Store, constructed later in 1937 and designed by Gilryong Park. As shown here, the building was also on a prominent corner site. It was six stories tall with a basement. The main body of the chamfered-corner facade was punctuated by vertical arrays of fenestration in three-window strips down the facade. The overall style was neo-classical and somewhat more conservative than the freer-flowing face of the Mitsukoshi Store located some distance down the road. The roof level was also occupied and afforded good views of the city. The floors, in keeping with standard department store layout, were relatively large, supported on columns and simply layered up the height of the building (Korean Institute of Architects, 1985, p. 95). The architect Gilryong Park, as mentioned earlier, was a graduate from the local Gyeongseong Engineering College in architecture with an intense interest also in housing.

Hwasin Department Store, Section, 1937

Hwasin Department Store, Facade, 1937

Hwasin Department Store in situ, 1937

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With the 1934 Joseon Urban Planning Act, Korea entered what could be considered the age of modern urban planning and also began studies of what became known as the urban hanok. There the aim was to relieve nagging housing shortages, particularly in Keijo. This version of the traditional courtyard house that Park was involved in originated from a typical housing type in Gyeonggi Province. However, instead of being regarded as an individual unit, it was understood as a cluster of buildings or spaces. This cluster, in turn, was shaped by the spatial ordering of rooms and the structural frame and often referred to as the Tri-form Hanok (Jun and Yoon, 2012). A result was that residential areas where the urban hanok was deployed were significantly different in their urban tissue, urban arrangement and types, especially in this tri-form arrangement that Park had been involved with. Later he also partially became a superficial proponent of a Bauhaus style of modernism, though (as one commentator put it) failing to grasp the essential meaning (Jung, 2013). The Bohwagak or Kansong Art Museum of 1939, shown here, is a case in point with unadorned surfaces, but without any of the actual spatial or technical qualities of Bauhaus architecture. Again, all told, this Colonial Period was marked and populated by architecture that essentially aspired to make a connection with the architecture of other colonial powers, whether neo-classical, neoGothic, neo-Romanesque or art deco. The issue of identity became synonymous with being seen as part of that elite group of Great Powers. The building typologies and styles invoked beyond this kind of identification were not Japanese or Korean in some other singular or manifest manner. Any particularization of this, with the exception of the New Hanok, was effectively avoided. Also, as Inha Jung contends, the essential Korean characteristic can be seen in what did not or has not changed (Jung, 2013). In addition, the development of an indigenous group of architectural professionals was late in coming and took place well within a Japanese colonial hegemony. As stated before, Gilryong Park was the first graduate to become a member of such a group.

Gilryong Park’s Diagram of Urban Hanoks

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Kansong Art Museum, 1938

A Modernism of the East

Not unexpectedly, during the early 20th century Korea’s architectural modernism closely followed that of Japan, where from the early Meiji Restoration (1868–1912) the nation had been undergoing intense Westernization so it could compete with the developed countries of the world (Seidensticker, 1991). With modern institutional changes as well, new building types appeared such as banks, hotels and department stores. Modern road layouts and other infrastructure was also introduced into city making. So was new technology, with substantial divergences from traditional timber construction, in favor of brick and later concrete and steel. This was also hastened by disastrous events like the Tsukji fire of 1872, which encouraged the building of London Bricktown in Tokyo by the British architect Thomas Waters. The first architecture program was established at the Imperial College of Engineering in 1873 under Henry Dyer with a six-year program of study. Another British architect, Josiah Conder (1852–1920), arrived in 1877 and began teaching at the Imperial College in technical subjects, as well as design and architectural history. Among his students were Tatsuno Kingo and Katayama Tokuma (Mand, 2012). Kingo was the architect of the main

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railway station in Keijo, as noted earlier, of 1914, as well as the Joseon Bank. As noted above, stylistically during the early days architecture tended to be influenced by Europe. Tokuma, for instance, favored neo-classical French Empire style, whereas Conder himself remained convinced that there was no substantial architecture in the Orient, as he called it, except Mughal architecture (Mand, 2013). In Korea there was also influence, again as noted earlier, from the Chinese Treaty Ports and from Hong Kong and mainly from Western architects. During the Taisho period in Japan (1912–1926) and the 1920s, young architects of the Bunriha clique or school (lit. secessionist group) began to make their mark, drawing inspiration from Expressionism and the Bauhaus in Europe. Eventually this, along with other strains, was to result in the familiar modern international style of Maekawa, Tange and others. However, in Korea, the older European neo-classical influences, in this competition, and state architecture then under the influence of Teikan Yoshiki, dominated, also as noted earlier (Minichiello, 1998). In other words, it was the Japanese colonial style that effectively defined modernism in Korea, as it did elsewhere in Japan’s possessions. With it also came the continental European Beaux-Arts style of planning with broad boulevards, rond-points, diagonal avenues and other paraphernalia that accompanied a desire to breathe light and air into over-crowded urban conditions (Sorenson, 2004).

Bank of Joseon, 1935

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The Generals, Park’s Regime and Followers Ch

apt e

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The regime of President Chung-hee Park began after an interregnum when he led a military coup in 1961, bringing to an end the Second Republic of Po-sun Yun. Seeking to bring South Korea into the modern developed world, Park began a series of economic policies and political maneuvers that brought about rapid growth in industrialization and urbanization to the nation. Following a close election in 1971, Park, still as President, declared martial law and amended the national constitution of South Korea into the authoritarian Yushin Constitution of 1972. After several attempts on his life, he was assassinated in 1979 and succeeded by Kyu-hah Choi (1979–1980) pursuant to the Yushin Constitution, followed by Doo-hwan Chun (1980–1988) who then assumed the Presidency under yet another military junta. This persisted to a lesser degree with the Sixth Republic under Doo-hwan Chun’s colleague, Tae-woo Roh, before entering into full-fledged civilian democracy. The period from 1945 to 1988 was one of substantial change and ruptures with the past, affecting almost all aspects of Korean life. Liberation from Japan in 1945 left a power vacuum in Northeast Asia with forces on the political left and right and the Soviets vying with the U.S. for influence and control. Amidst this jostling, Korea was summarily partitioned around the 38th parallel of north latitude. Syng-man Rhee (Yi Sung-man), coming from the earlier Korean Provisional Government, a partially recognized government-in-exile based in Shanghai, became President when the Republic of (South) Korea (ROK) was proclaimed in 1948 under a United Nations vote, though not signed by the Soviet Union who instead backed the Democratic People’s Republic of (North) Korea (DPRK). Rhee (1875–1965) was an elder statesman, very pro-American, having been educated at both Harvard and ­Princeton Universities and a staunch anti-communist. A little like Yeongjo of the Joseon, he was a strongman though without the latter’s common touch. He used blunt devices like the National Security Law to bludgeon people into place and virtually blackmailed the Americans, keen to gain influence in the region, into massive support in the rising Cold War with the Soviet Union (Eckert, Lee and Lew et al., 1990, p. 347f). Soon civil war broke out between the North and the South, with the U.S. and several allies entering in on behalf of the U.N. During the ensuing conflict the North pushed south to the perimeter of Busan, almost conquering

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the entire country and with Seoul falling into their hands. This thrust was interrupted by General MacArthur’s intervention and landing at Incheon and his push northward through Seoul all the way up to the Yalu River. The North, now joined by China, then pushed the U.N. forces under American leadership south in 1951, with Seoul falling yet again, until a stalemate of sorts was reached in 1953, more or less around the original dividing line of the 38th parallel. China stayed on until 1958 and the Americans much longer. The damage and destruction was staggering, with around 1.3 million people perishing, 30 percent of all housing and public infrastructure destroyed and 50 percent of industrial capacity totally debilitated (Eckert, Lee and Lew et al., 1990, p. 345). With mounting unrest at home, Rhee resigned in 1960, ushering in the short-lived Second Republic of South Korea of Po-sun Yun which, as mentioned, was overthrown by General Park.

The Rise of Chung-hee Park Chung-hee Park (1917–1979) was born into lowly rural circumstances in Gumi, now in South Korea. As a youth he apparently expressed admiration for Napoleon Bonaparte and later, the Meiji Restoration in Japan, along with the Japanese warrior code (bushido). Not surprisingly, he entered the military, graduating near the top of his class from the Changchun Military Academy before going on to attend the Imperial Japanese Military Academy in Japan, later serving as an officer in the Imperial Japanese Army in Manchuko. After the war, he went to the Korean Military Academy and served in the U.S. Military Government. He rose to the rank of Colonel in 1951, Brigadier-General in 1953 during the civil war and, later, to General by 1959. By 1961, when he led the coup against the Second Republic, he was one of the most influential and important figures in the Korean military (Kim, Kim and Vogel, 2011; and Eckert, 2016). From the head of the Supreme Council for National Reconstruction (SCNR), as the military junta was called, Park, as a civilian, then became President of South Korea in 1963 as a part of the Democratic Republican Party (DRP). While a part of the SCNR, he also created the Korean Central Intelligence Agency (KCIA) with his military colleague Jong-pil Kim as its head. Also, in 1962 as a part of his First Five-Year Plan he declared Ulsan in the southeast as a Special Industrial Development Zone.

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Park sought modernization in a distinctly militaristic manner (Eckert, 2016). A committed ‘Japanophile’, he was strongly influenced by his Manchuko experience and service in the Japanese army. Indeed, rather quickly in 1965 he entered into a formal treaty with Japan. He saw Japan’s Ministry of International Trade and Industry (MITI) alongside of the Japanese entrepreneurial conglomerates, the keiretsu, as examples for Korea to follow. In the treaty arrangements, unlike Rhee, who disliked Japan, Park worked closely with the Japanese leader Ikeda to normalize relations and create favorable conditions for the Japanese to return to South Korea to provide significant and needed economic and technical support. In 1972, as mentioned earlier, after a close election victory in 1971, Park and his regime moved to pass the Yushin Constitution, which effectively gave him and his successor quasi-dictatorial power for a six-year period with no limits on reelection. Essentially the people elected delegates to the Electoral College and charged them with election of the President of the Republic. Then in 1973 Park announced a program of heavy industry and chemical industrialization, with the former meaning steel, automobiles, ships and machines, of which fully 50 percent were to be for export by 1980. During the Second Five-Year Plan from 1967 the ‘ball’ as it were had been set rolling with the Guro Industrial Complex and promotion of Pohang Iron and Steel. Pursuing an etatist model with direct state participation, ownership at least in part, and particularly planning of the economy, Park ushered in and harnessed the chaebols together with monetary and other incentives to rapidly stimulate and re-configure South Korea’s economy away from textiles and lower-value goods. The chaebols were and are family-owned and -managed groups of companies that exercise monopolistic and oligarchic control in product lines and industries. They were and are like the Japanese zaibatsus of old and now keiretsus. Something akin to a ‘domino effect’ was then put into play (Cumings, 1999, p. 394f). Back to 1973 and the initiation of this industrialization, Pohang Iron and Steel had around one million tons in steel-producing capacity, rising to about 8.5 million tons by 1981 and overall a 14-time increase in South Korea’s steel capacity. The steel in turn was purchased by Korean shipbuilders, essentially non-existent before 1970, and Korean automakers,

Pohang Steel Complex and Surroundings, Satellite Image, n.d.

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Pohang Steel Complex in Operation, 1937–1981

who began supplying world markets to increasing degrees. The point here is that steel production has lots of linkages to other industries. For example, around 50 to 55 percent of all cars by weight are made from steel. The big push from 1973 onwards worked. Daewoo, for instance, which was created in 1967 by Woo-choong Kim, made its way from textiles and shirts to huge shipyards and mechanical engineering plants (Rowe, 2010). Park built plants at Masan on the southeast coast in order to make machines that made everything else. In 1970, South Korea had an 86 percent dependence on foreign imports. With about 100 more new factories taken into operation by 1977, the situation was reversed to the extent that in the late 1970s fully 90 percent of all Korean automobiles used locally produced parts (Cumings, 1999, p. 328). In effect, South Korea was a cornucopia of state supports to business, as historian Bruce Cumings puts it (Cumings, 1999, p. 326). Moreover, the state bureaucracy did manage to allocate resources efficiently without falling into the traps of nepotism and too much corruption at the expense of the commonweal. As Cumings observes, this appeared to be for four reasons. First, all kinds of risks disappear when a company knows that it has long-term investments under a highly nationalistic leadership. Second, the ideal of the civil servant does produce well-educated people who are devoted to doing the best for their country and are especially good at it, having received higher educations in efficient resource allocation internationally. Third, there is enough to go around to reward ‘friends’ and to support ‘rational efficacious corruption’. Finally, the proof of success is export performance, at which South Korea quickly began to excel. Park’s model of development had its heyday between 1961 and 1979, before the economy began to run into trouble. Park himself was assassinated by Jae-gyu Kim, the director of the KCIA in 1979, along with his bodyguard, thus ending an admirable and appalling regime. With regard to the often cited ‘Miracle on the Han’, as Cumings puts it, “to say there was no miracle is merely to give this vast talented population its proper acknowledgement” (Cumings, 1999, p. 336). They got there by working their fingers to the bone with persistence and ingenuity.

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National Assembly Building Competition, 1960

The Two Architects Kim This modern pre-democracy period was dominated architecturally by two figures. They were Swoo Geun Kim (1931–1986) and Chung-up Kim (1928–1988). The former, hailing from North Korea before moving to Seoul, was Japanese-trained though initially at Seoul National University in architecture and then at Tokyo National University of Fine Arts and Music, before completing his master’s and doctoral degrees in architecture at Tokyo University (Todai). There he was strongly influenced by Kenzo Tange, the other metabolists and Le Corbusier. He won the competition for the National Assembly Building in Seoul in 1959. Although it was not realized, he subsequently founded his own firm, the predecessor of the SPACE Group, and began to teach architecture at Hongik University. He was a prolific architect with around 200 projects to his credit. He worked successfully and well with political figures, like Mayor Hyon-ok Kim of Seoul. He was also the founding editor of Space, a magazine covering modern architectural developments in Korea and elsewhere. Chung-up Kim was also a prominent architect, born in the north at Pyongyang. He studied architecture at Yokohama National University with a rigorous Beaux-Arts training under Junpei Nakamura. After working in Japan at Matsuda-Harada’s firm, he returned to Korea and became assistant professor at Seoul National University. On a fateful trip to France he met Le Corbusier and finally worked for him for three and a half years, from 1952 to 1955. Unlike the other Kim, Chung-up worked less closely with government officials and was not particularly prolific.

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Both Kims came to prominence when architecture in Korea broke away from the modernism of earlier years. In keeping with the new authoritarian regime, theirs and their colleagues’ work drew upon traditional architecture, as well as celebrating the arrival of modern technology. Not surprisingly, the political regime in power was keen on associating their building and architectural programs with modern developments on the one hand, but also with a certain Korean sense of identity. Like Hegel’s ‘present-past’ and ‘present-future’ commented upon in the introduction, they seemed to associate themselves with what was brand-new in the world but with Korean characteristics to the extent that that could be accomplished. As other writers like Inha Jung have clearly stated, tradition (though without any direct translation) took the form of a regionalist discourse and, in the two Kims’ cases, echoed the influence of Le Corbusier either directly or indirectly through the Japanese system of architectural lineage via Maekawa and Tange (Jung, 2013, p. 81f). Also, as both strands of this architectural discourse and practice unfolded, issues of appropriation and imitation in pursuit of creative and original innovation were rife, setting up virtual boundaries along which reflections of acceptable current trends could be guided (Jung, 2013, p. 83). On matters of tradition and regionalism, Swoo Geun Kim believed strongly that the essence of Korean architecture lay in the clustered form of building, whereas Chung-up Kim was more inclined towards simplification and re-articulation of formal qualities of traditional architecture dating back before the Joseon Dynasty, as well as certain C ­ orbusian tropes that he had become accustomed to during his sojourn in Paris. On the modern technological front, both were inclined, like many others at the time, particularly in Japan, to futuristic experiences and high-tech arrangements. Among the works of the two architects the ‘traditional’ side is to be found in the National Assembly Building, the Buyeo National Museum, the Cheongju National Museum, the SPACE Group Building and the Seoul Olympic Stadium, all by Swoo Geun Kim, along with the elegant Embassy of France by Chung-up Kim. The more technically inclined works by Swoo Geun Kim would certainly include the sprawling Sewoon Sangga complex and the Osaka 1970 Expo South Korean Pavilion. For Chung-up Kim, it would just as certainly entail the high-rise Miesian Samilro Building and, despite its explicit iconography, the World Peace Gate for the 1988 Olympic Park in Seoul.

National Assembly Building, Exterior and Interior, 1975

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ReInterpreting and Sublimating Tradition As mentioned, the 1959 competition-winning entry for the National Assembly Building and complex by Swoo Geun Kim was not realized. The site was to have been on Namsan mountain in Seoul and Kim’s proposal featured a prominent horizontal columnar edifice with an extensive though taut overhanging roof, as shown here, somewhat in the manner of Tange’s Peace Memorial in Hiroshima of 1949. In keeping with his conviction about Koreanness issuing from a cluster or ensemble of buildings rather than a single object-like structure, the complex that Kim delineated consisted of the squared-off low-rise Assembly Building, accompanied by a library and a high-rise office tower for Assembly members, at a height of some 24 floors. Finally, ten years later, in 1969, the site was moved to Yeouido Island close to the south bank of the Han River. Completed in 1975, the Assembly Building was accompanied by a library and an office building for members of the legislature and their staff, all placed within an extensive and relatively open, park-like setting. Designed to house the deliberations of the legislative branch of the South Korean national government, the plenary chamber, illustrated here, can seat 400 members, ostensibly in preparation for broader membership under a unified Korea. Nowadays it

seats 300 members in a unicameral arrangement, with single-member constituents comprising 253 of the assembly seats, while the remaining 47 seats are allocated by proportional representation. Each member serves for four years. The revised Assembly Building stands alone on its immediate site and is deliberately monumental in its appearance with a large green lawn as a forecourt. Its broad horizontal roof is crowned by a rounded blue dome and held up by a four-sided gallery of 24 tall stone pillars and enclosed by exterior walls finished in granite (Korean Institute of Architects, 1985, p. 146). The openness of the site makes the building very prominent and magnifies its symbolic representation of the legislative organ of the nation. Unfortunately, though, it is taller and squatter than the original proposal and without the former’s elegance of line and trabeation. Apparently the design went through considerable manipulation by the state client and, in the end, did draw upon traditional buildings rather bluntly, as one commentator put it, like the National Theater of 1975, the Cultural Center of 1978 and the Independence Hall of 1987. According to one distinguished historian summarizing the building, it “ranks as a monstrous edifice born out of the twisted desires of politicians for glory – emblematic of the period of development dictatorship (Jung, 2013, p. 84). The Buyeo National Museum, following on from the earlier list, is again by Swoo Geun Kim and was built to house the quintessential Baekje artifact – the gilt-bronze incense burner of the Baekje. Buyeo, located in Chungcheongnam-do well south of Seoul, was once the capital of the Baekje Kingdom long ago during the Sabi Period (538–660). The museum was first established in 1929, with the 1967 structure by Kim on the heels of the provincial announcement of the Baekje Cultural Festival Memorial, begun in 1965. Strictly speaking, this building should be referred to as the former Buyeo National Museum, as the institution moved to its current site and re-opened in 1993 with four exhibition halls and an outdoor exhibition area. Kim’s earlier structure is striking, as illustrated here with its curvilinear supporting members meeting at the crown of its roof. It was roundly criticized, as the issue of imitation mentioned earlier arose. According to Jong-soo Kim, it was too imitative of Kenzo Tange’s modern version of a Japanese structure (Jung, 2013, p. 83).

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Buyeo National Museum, 1967

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Buyeo National Museum, Facade, 1967

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Cheongju National Museum in situ, 1989

Cheongju National Museum, Courtyard, 1989

Still following the prior list, the Cheongju National Museum of 1979 to 1989 by Swoo Geun Kim gives full expression to his idea that truly Korean architecture was and is actually an assemblage of buildings. Located in Cheongju towards the center of South Korea to the northeast of Daejeon, the complex occupies a hillside site in a campus-like format of terraces, outdoor courtyards, connected and seemingly overlapping buildings. The outdoor courtyards, stairs and platforms are paved in brick, providing an underlying material continuity to the complex. In its 10,705 square meters of built area, it houses in separate halls national cultural treasures from the early Guseok, Sinseok and Cheongdong Periods up through the Joseon Dynasty. Each hall is crowned by a broad, articulated shallow-pitched roof, as Kim was required to use roof tiling by the government client. Below, the walls are composed mainly of striated siding, as shown here. The ensemble winds up the hill from one stratum to another, harmonized together by building proximity, careful alignment and unified materials and textures. Within this strongly horizontal arrangement, the intermediate spaces of courts and stairs are seemingly as important as the actual halls themselves, again emphasizing Kim’s close reading and preference for clusters of buildings and their voids as the true purveyors of Koreanness. This last aspect of Swoo Geun Kim’s work is further reinforced by his SPACE Group Building of 1971, where, as Jung observes, he sublimates traditional spatial concepts into those of a modern building (Jung, 2013, p. 96). By this, he means invoking the older Confucian concept of separated, segregated quarters in a household, reflecting social differences in rank, gender, function and so on, alongside of interconnecting linkages and intermediary spaces, like the daecheong and madang to be found in the traditional hanok. At the SPACE Group Building, which was Kim’s home and his office, what in other times would have been a two-dimensional layout is reproduced in vertically segregated spaces for residence, office, exhibition and performance (Jung, 2013, p. 92). Into this mix are inserted several courtyards in the internal space, maintaining their singularity and that of the served spaces. In effect, it becomes an essay in ‘solid’ and ‘void’, where ‘void’ is the part that is emphasized. This also coincides with a profoundly Eastern sensibility where void is not equated to blankness or zero as it might be in the West.

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SPACE Group Building in situ, 1976

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SPACE Group Building in situ, 1976

SPACE Building, Interior, 1976

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Arko Art Center, 1979

Instead, in, for instance, a Daoist reading in the Sinic Tradition it is the equivalent of wei, wu wei or ‘doing, doing nothing’, including and embracing all manifold possibilities of ‘doing nothing’. In other words, the SPACE Group Building is an ensemble of loci as some like to describe them, or ‘places’ simply in English, ­connected via intermediary spaces creating enclosed and endless space. It is nothing less than a “masterly example of how to breathe life into a spatial concept drawn from traditional architecture”, and, one might add, from an Eastern philosophical perspective (Jung, 2013, p. 92). His Arko Art Center of 1979 employs a very similar approach, as did Young Joon Kim’s design for a later project, the Heryoojae Hospital of 2004 (Park, 2018). Finally, at a very different scale, Swoo Geun Kim’s Jamsil Olympic Stadium of 1977 to 1988 also makes a certain inflection of tradition identifiable in its appearance. The lines of the stadium’s profile imitate the elegant and subtle curves of a Joseon Dynasty porcelain vase. This sort of reference and scale shift is not uncommon elsewhere in the world, particularly if one thinks of Xing Tonghe’s Shanghai Heritage Museum of the 1990s, ostensibly in the shape of a Han bronze mirror (Rowe and Kuan, 2002, p. 169). First built to house spectators and sports events for the 1986 10th Asian Games, Kim’s multi-purpose stadium also served the Summer Olympics in 1988. It has a grass-surfaced field area of 110 meters by 75 meters and is 132,000 square meters in area. It consists internally of two tiers of spectator seats, totaling a game’s capacity to 100,000 people, although now housing around 70,000 spectators (Korean Institute of Architects, 1985, p. 164). The Embassy of France, this time by Chung-up Kim of 1959 to 1961, is a three-building complex comprising the Consulate, the Ambassador’s Office and the Ambassador’s Residence. It was the subject of a competition in 1959 that Kim won with a rather radical proposal (Korean Institute of Architects, 1985, p. 56). The complex is located in the western portion of the central area of Seoul, southwest of the Grand West Gate (Seodaemun) in the Seodaemun District. According to some observers, Kim’s arcing linear sequence of buildings in close relationship to each other is an exterior version of Le ­Corbusier’s ‘architectural promenade’ (Franck, 2014; and Jung, 2013).

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Jamsil Olympic Stadium, 1977–1988

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This ‘promenade’ embodies the idea of roaming through a building or building complex. It dates back at least to the Acropolis of Athens, and in Le Corbusier’s hands is very apparent in the Carpenter Center for the Visual Arts at Harvard University of 1962. There, pedestrian access and, indeed, a public route through the building invites scrutiny of the adjacent studio and other spaces inside. In some ways, the separation of programmatic components and the manner in which the landscape with linkages in between, is similar to the separation and intermediary spaces of the other Kim’s SPACE Group Building. At the embassy it is, in fact, difficult to perceive all the buildings together as a single totality given the way they are arranged, giving one a sense of dynamism rather than stasis. Also, by combining an “expression of Korean spirit with French elegance”, as he put it, Kim skillfully constructs metamorphoses of traditional architectural forms (Jung, 2013, p. 86). For instance, the Ambassador’s Residence, the third building in the sequence, takes a traditional hall building type, with its big roof, middle chamber of accommodations and podium and then simplifies and re-articulates each of these quintessential elements of the type in place. Indeed, throughout the complex and in general, roof forms in particular are a conspicuous traditional reference in Kim’s work. He appears to be drawn to the shape grammar of these roofs, although more often than not and likewise in the Embassy project the roof line is simplified and inflected in an elegant gestural manner, rather than according to the thickness and heaviness of traditional roofs (Jung, 2013, p. 65). The Ambassador’s Office, the second building in the sequence, is a case in point, making clear reference to the Governor’s Residence at Le Corbusier’s Chandigarh that Kim worked on when he was with Le Corbusier in Paris (Jung 2013, p. 85; and Curtis, 1987, p. 192).

Embassy of France, 1959–1961

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Embassy of France in situ, 1959–1961

Embassy of France, Detailed View, 1959–1961

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Exploring Modern Technology As mentioned in passing, the other referent for the Park regime and the pre-democracy period was celebration of modern technology and its purported liberating effects, as well as clearly signaling that South Korea was on its way up in the modern and contemporary world. This was a period in South Korea of massive infrastructure construction, with expressways, tunnels, railways and even the beginning of Seoul’s subway system in 1974. It was also a moment when South Korea’s own construction technology was coming of age, not all at once to be sure and not without some spectacular failures like the 1970 Wow Apartment Building failure, the 1971 Daeyeonggak Hotel calamity and the 1977 Iri Station mishap and explosion. Part of this coming of age was also the local manufacture of steel, gradually increasing in strength of the material, and similarly with reinforced concrete and other locally produced building materials. One structure that was the very epitome and symbol of modernity for many, although later a symbol for indiscriminate development for others, was Sewoon Sangga (Kwak, 2002; and The Hankyoreh, 2004). The genesis of this project came first from the Japanese occupation and their construction of fire breaks in the face of Allied incendiary bombing. In this particular case the fire break stretched north to south

between Jongno and Toegyero. This gap was about 50 meters wide and one to two kilometers in length. Then, after WWII, it was filled in with squatter settlements before being redeveloped from 1966 onwards. The instigator of the project was Hyon-ok Kim, the Mayor of Seoul between 1966 and 1970 and often referred to as ‘Kim the Bulldozer’ because of his prowess in moving along large infrastructure projects such as the Seoul-Busan expressway. Working with the architect Swoo Geun Kim, he commissioned Sewoon Sangga as the first multi-use residential-commercial project in Korea, also referred to at the time politely as ‘Sewoon Arcade’ (Shim, 2018). It was an interconnected eight-building complex, as shown here, stretching about one kilometer through the former fire break once the squatters had been removed. Usually thought of as a brutalist megastructure, Sewoon Sangga actually had much in common with the work of the avant-garde Team 10 group at the time with which Kim was familiar, including so-called streets in the sky, high levels of mixed use, separations of pedestrian and other movement systems, together with unusual alignments of programmatic components (Kwak, 2002). More prosaically the linear structure was composed of apartments, commercial offices, a hotel, a shopping mall, a school, a library, and a variety of smaller stores and recreational venues. In places the structure rose to a height of eight floors above a three-story podium that was jam-packed with commercial enterprises, movement systems and car parking below. Light courts punctuated building masses along its length and floors tapered upwards allowing light and air into the complicated and massive complex. The architectural expression was direct and modernist without any shred of nostalgia or fetishism. Opened with great fanfare, Sewoon Sangga saw its fate begin to change over time, moving towards a center of pornography and pirated media, followed by plans to pull it down and replace it with a linear park surrounded on both sides by high-rise office and residential buildings. The American firm of Koetter Kim & Associates won the competition for this replacement in 2004, which was to be a part of the then new Urban Renaissance Green Corridor (Schuetze and Chelleri, 2006). However, neither this nor the other schemes were realized, and recently Sewoon Sangga has been undergoing renovation and regeneration with only one of its earlier components being demolished.

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Sewoon Sangga, Seoul, 1970

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Sewoon Sangga, Seoul, 1970

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Sewoon Sangga, Seoul, 1970

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Swoo Geun Kim was also the designer of the South Korean P ­ avilion at the 1970 Expo held in Osaka, Japan. Taken together, the Expo buildings constituted a collection of many futuristic expressions and experiences within a masterplan by Kenzo Tange. Billed as casting an eye on technical progress, each national pavilion appeared to compete for attention in the bravura of technical architectural possibilities. Kim’s pavilion was no exception, with eight tall tubular supports and service components supporting large exposed trusses from which a semi-open rectilinear pavilion was hung, replete with criss-crossing escalators and movement systems, as depicted in the accompanying illustrations (Space Forum, 1970). Very able to support the many live performances that formed the major part of South Korea’s exhibit primarily in a traditional key, the pavilion also housed one of Admiral Yi Sun-sin’s famous ‘Turtle Ships’ that so convincingly won all his sea battles against Japan during the 16th century and the Imjin War. Given the off-and-on enmity towards Japan, this may seem to have been an unusual choice of exhibit, except that Park already had a treaty with Japan and the ‘Turtle Ships’ did represent a strong example of technological advancement in marine warfare in their time. Today Admiral Yi, together with Britain’s Horatio Nelson, are generally recognized as the all-time finest naval commanders. Yi lost very few ships in many successive engagements with Japanese fleets off the southern coast of the peninsula. Back to the pavilion, Kim’s architecture fell in line with much that was there in its enthusiastic embrace of technology in the service of Expo ‘70’s moniker of “progress and harmony for mankind”. Around the same time of 1970 to 1971, Chung-up Kim designed the Samilro Building as the headquarters of Sammi Steel, established in 1959, and as something of a showcase for the firm’s products. Apart from Le Corbusier, Mies van der Rohe as another outsider enjoyed a following in South Korea. Jong-soo Kim, for instance, and perhaps more directly Jong Soung Kimm, stressed the tectonic importance of Mies. The latter worked in the office of Mies in Chicago in 1961 and studied with Mies at IIT before returning to South Korea in 1978. However, it was Chung-up Kim’s Samilro Building that probably came closest to matching Mies’s ideas (Jung, 2013, p. 99; and Korean Institute of Architects, 1985, p. 83). It was unabashedly an imitation of the

South Korean Pavilion, Osaka Expo, 1970

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Samilro Building, Seoul, 1970–1971

celebrated Seagram Building in Manhattan, New York, by Mies van der Rohe of 1958. The Samilro Building had a module of nine-meter structural bays compared to the Seagram Building’s 8.4-meter bays, although less of a distance between window mullions of the curtain walls. Both buildings had a main rectangular plan footprint with smaller square annexes to the back. In the Samilro Building, this housed the elevators, stairways and other vertical services of the building, whereas in the Seagram Building these were embedded into the plan with the annex housing more office space, as shown here. At about 800 to 950 square meters, the footprint of the Samilro Building was slightly smaller than the Seagram Building at around 1,100 square meters. The latter was also taller, at 38 stories. Indeed, during the design and construction of the Samilro Building Kim had to thicken the vertical columns with concrete in order to accommodate an increase in height by the client from 26 to 31 stories (Jung, 2013, p. 99). As mentioned, South Korea was coming to grips with its own modern technology in this period, which effectively limited the capacity to emulate the technical prowess of the architecture of others elsewhere at the time. This, of course, was to change appreciably in the years to come.

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Plan of Samilro Building, 1970–1971

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The aim of Chung-up Kim’s World Peace Gate for the 1988 Summer Olympic Games Park, designed in 1987, was to celebrate the spirit of the Seoul Olympics, with its emphasis on peace and harmony, together with symbolizing the ability of the Korean people (Mackie, 2016). Clearly it also came at a hopeful time as South Korea began to shake off the prior military regimes almost entirely. Located in Songpa-gu in the Jamsil area of Seoul, the site area of the gate was 420 meters by 80 meters, on which stood a structure with a cantilevered roof, as shown here, of 62 meters by 37 meters at a height of 24 meters. The overall form is very simple and powerful and like similar structures requires consummate engineering. A mural on the underside of these large overhangs is called A Painting of Four Spirits, where the red and blue colors symbolize the traditional um and yang of universe and creativity. The four guardian spirits are comprised on the south by the red phoenix, on the north by the black turtle, on the west by the white tiger and on the east by the blue dragon. All are depicted ascending to the heavens along with the free Korean people. In fact, this was Chung-up Kim’s last built work, as he passed away in 1988 at the age of 66 years.

World Peace Gate, 1988

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Pulling Up with the Times With the Park regime and its successors, South Korea entered the modern world rapidly, rather abruptly and in a well-defined manner. Among the several generally accepted aspects of modernization, urbanization and industrialization usually figure strongly. In  South Korea this was no exception. In 1955 the nation’s overall rate or degree of urbanization was only around 30 percent and it barely reached 35 percent by 1960. Then  it increased dramatically to around 50 percent by 1970 and 70 percent by 1980 before reaching fully 75 percent in 1990 (Kim and Choe, 1997, p. 21). Much of this steep incline was focused on Seoul because of its job opportunities, superior community services and general attractions. Consequently, the rate of urban population increase in the city went from a year-on-year rate of 9 or so percent in the early 1960s to averaging around 6.8 percent and higher through until 1985 or later (Kim and Choe, 1997, p. 22). Internationally this is very high for a sizeable city. In China, for instance, the recent urban boom has been averaging around 3.5 percent or less in urban expansion for reasonably sized cities and even for very prominent large cities like Beijing and Shanghai. Along with this increased expansion, the large traditional family in South Korea shrank appreciably from around five persons per household in 1950 to just above three persons per household by 1990 (Kim and Choe, 1997, p. 22).

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Urbanization Rate and Seoul Population Graphs

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By 1990 or thereabouts the Seoul Metropolitan Area, including the city itself plus the suburbs in Gyeonggi Province and nearby Incheon, had risen to 18.6 million inhabitants. This was on the way to 23 million or so people in 2010, making it the third-largest metropolitan area in the world behind Tokyo-Yokohama. The urban density also crept up to about 10,400 people per square kilometer, ranking second behind the much denser Hong Kong (Cox, 2011). For this to happen, the housing of South Korean residents changed radically. As the modernization programs of the Park regime took hold, medium- and high-rise modern apartments became the new norm. High-rise apartments, which accounted for only about four percent of the housing stock in 1970, reached a percentage as high as 35 by 1990. Moreover, this was primarily provided by the private sector, with large chaebols accounting for around 65 percent of housing construction volume, followed by the giant Korean Housing Corporation at 27 or so percent (Rowe, 2002, p. 77; and Kim and Choe, 1997, pp. 115–117). Modern industrialization, certainly from the big push of 1973 onwards, also rapidly reshaped the employment landscape. With manufacturing and secondary industry at barely ten percent of national production in 1960, it quickly expanded to over 30 percent by 1980 on its way up to 50 percent by the early 1990s, i.e., the early years of the civilian democratic era. By contrast, the rural lifestyle and agricultural production that Korea had depended on for so long shrank to below one percent over the same period of time (Kim and Choe, 1997, p. 38). In short, South Korea became part of and a member of the modern world. The architectural shape and appearance of life also changed appreciably, slipstreaming as it were with the larger-order forces of change. Contemporary housing was modernist almost without exception, ­particularly displaying its bland and barracks-like high-rise manifestations in the newer areas of Seoul. Commercial projects also emulated those abroad with box-like multi-storied arrangements and curtain walls, although rarely if ever as elegantly as the Samilro Building. Other accoutrements of modernity like elevated expressways and mass transit stops also began to intrude into the urban scene, again as in other modern cities of the world. Not only had South Korea begun to catch up in economic development and associated life-styles but also

in the character of its built environment. As described earlier, the Park regime and others were bent on promoting these images of modern life and expressing them on a par with elsewhere. By the same token they were also interested in acknowledging Korea’s architectural past. This can be clearly seen in the work narrated here of the two Kims. Although both were modern architects by education, background and proclivities, each had his own way of reaching back into the past to provide a certain Koreanness to his projects. Moreover, it was their efforts, probably more than others, that pointed in the direction of a lasting Korean identity and set standards for the generations to come. With them, South Korea like other countries began to develop its own modern architecture.

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Modern Democracy and the 4.3 Group

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After the assassination of Chung-hee Park in 1979, General Doo-hwan Chun (1931–) and fellow officers launched a coup against the government. Subsequently, in 1980, Chun was elected President of South Korea, a post he held until 1988, meanwhile resigning as Director of the KCIA. Although he founded his own political party – the Democratic Justice Party – it was little different from Park’s earlier Democratic Republican Party. The June Democracy Movement that resulted in mass protests in 1987 pushed the ruling regime towards naming Taewoo Roh (1932–) as Chun’s successor. This was generally seen as a process to delay the promised revision of the South Korean constitution to permit direct election of the President rather than from within the legislative body. Roh had been supportive of the Chun-led coup as an army division commander. He also was a classmate of Chun’s at the South Korean Military Academy, both graduating together in 1955. Roh quickly rose up through the ranks, becoming a General in 1979. With Chun’s ascension to power, Roh resigned from the military in 1980, taking up a series of ministerial positions in Chun’s 5th Republic government. He also was the head of the Seoul Olympic Games Organizing Committee from 1983 to 1986. Unwilling to resort to violence in the face of massive unrest and before the 1988 Olympic Games, Chun and Roh acceded to the demands of direct presidential elections and restoration of civil liberties. In fact, in June of 1987, Roh gave a speech promising a broad program of democratic reforms, including direct election of the nation’s President by popular vote. Within this improved political climate Roh was narrowly elected President against a split vote among the opposition, and the 6th Republic was ushered in (Lee, 1997, p. 120f; and Cumings, 1999, pp. 388–390). During his Presidency Roh oversaw South Korea’s admission to the United Nations in 1991, before being succeeded by Young-sam Kim (1927–2015) as the first civilian leader in a very long time. Kim had been one of the leaders of the South Korean political opposition for almost 30 years and one of the most powerful rivals to the authoritarian regimes of Park and Chun (Lee, 1997, p. 167).

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The Building of a New Korea

As President (1993–1998), Young-sam Kim rather immediately launched an anti-corruption campaign and a strong internationalization policy called segyehwa (Globalization). Both former Presidents Chun and Roh were targeted in Kim’s anti-corruption campaign with indictments on charges including treason for their roles in military coups. Both were pardoned near the end of Kim’s term, and he also extended amnesty towards thousands of political prisoners and removed criminal convictions of pro-democracy protesters arrested during the Gwangju massacre of 1980. The campaign also extended to the chaebols, although not with quite the same impact (Cumings, 1999, p. 389f). As one commentator noted at the time: “[T]wo decades after the achievement of vast industrialization through export-oriented development, South Korea is making still another ‘winning’ adjustment to the global market and its post–cold war world politics. This time South Korea is a transnational investor, establishing factories and expanding markets abroad” (Park, 1996, p. 1). What he was pointing to was both globalization and nationalism as South Korea’s economic posture transcended national boundaries. In effect, what had happened was

that labor shortages, wage increases and other changing employment characteristics pressured South Korea to invest abroad and in less-developed countries in Asia, the Caribbean and Eastern Europe. In addition, the government was no longer fully in control of the ­chaebols it had helped to create, particularly with Kim’s reformist orientation. In addition, chronic problems with the shortage of labor, particularly in manufacturing, encouraged the importation of  foreign workers as early as 1991. Indeed, some 160,000 arrived from northeastern China, the Philippines and elsewhere, with Koreans from northeastern China constituting 40 percent of the foreign work force (Park, 1996). Once again, the han minjok (bloodlines) of old rose within the Korean diaspora and the two Koreas, reconfiguring nationalism in South Korea. Indeed, the staunch anti-communist, anti-North Korean nationalism that was previously consolidated was beginning to be replaced by a new language of nationalism. In a word it was segyehwa, or globalization, but involving nationalistic sentiment and calling for national unity in order to not only survive but to strive for leadership in the international community. Attitudes towards ethnic Koreans living abroad viewing them as kyopo (outsiders) were replaced with tongpo and blood-kin notions of compatriots. However, this inclusion of all of Korean ethnicity regardless of citizenship also resulted in an economic community that was hierarchical and, therefore, divided (Anderson, 1992; and Park, 1996). As South Korea’s development progressed, it was admitted into the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development (OECD), a group of 34 or so member countries that regularly discuss and develop economic and social policies as democratic countries that support free-market economies. However, no sooner had that occurred than South Korea, along with other nations in Asia, was struck with the 1997 Financial Crisis. Although certainly a blow to its pride, the nation was rescued through massive loans from the International Monetary Fund (IMF), Japan and the United States. In fact, the $57 billion bailout that South Korea received from the IMF at the time was the largest such rescue in IMF history (Lee, 2011). It also led to further reformation of the chaebols and liberation of the economy. It was additionally successful as South Korea entered the 21st century on a firm economic

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footing (Chang, 2013). As further testimony to a sense of national unity, in early 1998 the gold-collecting campaign became a national sacrificial movement. Against a South Korean debt at the time of $304 billion in foreign-exchange debt, the campaign involving over 3.5 million people nationwide collected some 227 tons of gold worth $2.13 billion (Cheon, 2017). Young-sam Kim was succeeded by Dae-jung Kim (1924–2009) as President between 1998 and 2003. He pushed vigorously for economic reform and retirement of the IMF debt, also winning the 2000 Nobel Peace Prize for his unifying efforts at reconciliation (Oberdorfer and Carlin, 2014, p. 35). One other aspect of the 1990s, even before the Financial Crisis and an outcome of the ‘big push’ into heavy industry, manufacturing and ­engineering for export-oriented production of the Park era, was a certain industrial immaturity and lack of consistent quality. The collapse of the Seongsu Bridge in 1994 and the Sampoong Department Store collapse of 1995 were tragic cases in point. The Seongsu Bridge in Seoul, spanning across the Han River from the Seongdong District in the north to Gangnam in the south, was completed in 1979. It partially collapsed when one of the concrete slabs in its 1160-meter length fell due to a failure of the suspension structure holding it in place, killing 32 people. The Sampoong Department Store was also a structural failure, killing 502 people and injuring 937. It was to date the dead­ liest non-deliberate building collapse until the Savar building failure in Dhaka, Bangladesh, in 2013 (Reuters, 1994; and Wearne, 2000). There was also the failure of the heavily traveled Cheonggye Highway and its Samil Elevated Bypass in Seoul, pronounced by the Korean Society of Civil Engineers in 1992 with access prohibited in 1997 (Rowe, 2010, pp. 32–33). All these events shook the nation and wounded its pride, as well as hastening closer scrutiny and oversight of construction projects.

Sampoong Department Store Collapse, 1995

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The Beauty of Poverty and Structuring Emptiness The 4.3 Group of architects was formed in the 1990s during the beginning of the democratic era of South Korea, as something of a shared vision and ostensibly named after the infamous 4.3 Incident that unfolded on Jeju Island from April 3, 1948 (Kim, 2013). Since 1947, communist residents of Jeju Island opposed to the division of Korea had begun protesting and striking. Soon after, the Workers Party of South Korea and other communist supporters were labeled by the Syng-man Rhee government as subversives, traitors and, in effect, as terrorists. Suppression of the uprising was escalated from August 1948 onwards with the declaration of martial law and a brutal prosecution of protesters leading to a program of literal extermination. This extended into the island’s rural areas for around ten months. It took almost 60 years for the South Korean government to officially apologize for its role in the killings and promise reparations. Then even later in 2019 the South Korean Police and the Defense Ministry apologized for the first time for their role in the massacres. Adoption of the 4.3 moniker by the architectural group ostensibly signals a strong break with official

Game Plan, by Alighiero Boetti, late 1960s

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orthodoxy and the rather bland and humdrum building of Seoul. In fact, their actions and rhetoric were aimed as a critique of shallower characteristics of the Korean city and the nation’s material affluence. Also, this kind of ascription is reasonably commonplace in South Korea. The 386 Generation (sampallyuk sedae), for instance, refers to a large group of people born in the 1960s, active and instrumental when younger in the democracy movement of the 1980s, and who in the 1990s were in their 30s. They were of like minds in their critical views of the United States and sympathetic views towards North Korea. The 4.3 Group was also born on or around the same time as the Jeju Island uprising and its outcome, with In Cheurl Kim and Hyo-sang Seung, two of the Group’s founders, born in 1947 and 1952, respectively. The 4.3 Incident itself also bore on north-south relations (Fouser, 2018). The reaction against the mainstream and the attribution, at least by Hyo-sang Seung, to the ‘beauty of poverty’ also strikes a chord with the Arte Povera (Poor Art) Movement in Italy during the late 1960s and early ‘70s. It was a challenge to established notions of value and propriety as well as a critique of the industrialization and mechanization of Italy. Like the 4.3 Group, the Arte Povera artists were against more of the same and formulated quite a distinct reaction against modernist abstract painting, which dominated Europe in the 1950s, and American minimalism. The use of commonplace materials referencing a pre-industrial age and repurposed poor, cheap materials evoked the past, locality and memory in the same way as ‘structuring emptiness’ in the hands of the 4.3 Group evoked Korean traditional concepts of architectural space and contrasts of new with old, thereby complicating senses of passing time. The term ‘arte povera’ was coined in 1967 by the critic Germano Celant and covered varied work by Alberto Burri, Giovanni Anselmo, Piero Marzoni, Alighiero Boetti, pictured here, and Michelangelo Pistoletto, among others (Lumley, 2005). Alternatively, this kind of reaction to what is in play can also be seen by the earlier ‘art of assemblage’ before ‘arte povera’ as an ‘art of proximity’ whereby objects that individually evoke one meaning or experience, when put in proximity to other things, can change or expand that meaning or experience. This can be seen clearly in the works of Hans Bellmer and Joseph Cornell, among others (Seitz, 1961).

One of the principal founders of the 4.3 Group of architects, as mentioned before, was Hyo-sang Seung (1952–). He was a graduate in architecture from Seoul National University and the Technical University of Vienna. He worked for Swoo Geun Kim and the SPACE Group between 1974 and 1989 before establishing his own office called IROJE Architects & Planners in 1989. He also participated in the founding of the Seoul School of Architecture, although also teaching as a visiting professor at North London University, as well as at Seoul National University and the Korea National University of the Arts. In writing about the ‘beauty of poverty’, Seung made the following pronouncement: “It is more important, to use than to have, to share than to add, (and) to empty than to fill”. Also, with regard to the ‘structuring of emptiness’, he observed that space is the essence of architecture, going on to allude to the ‘urban void’, ‘culturescape’ and ‘landscape’. For him, it was the practice of emptying in architecture that affects the life of humans and it is the void filled with life that constitutes ‘vitality’ (Seung, 1996; Seung, 2004; and Seung and Min, 2005). These concepts played out in a number of projects by Seung. The Sujoldang House of 1993, for instance, is a modernist structure built around a couple of adjoining, partially glass-lined exterior courtyards, which are paved and yet largely unencumbered with the exception in the largest of a single shapely tree towards one end and hanging plants along one side. It is serene: uncluttered space, clearly referential to the hanok courtyards of old and serving multiple points of entry and egress, and like a madang, mediating the comings and goings of life in a private home. The simplicity and feel of the space has a certain Japanese Zen quality to it in its moments of repose, though becoming activated during other times of occupation. In speaking of this ‘emptiness’ and even ‘commonplaceness’, Seung claimed that “empty space is unique in that it offers extraordinary experiences in the context of the ordinary … it mobilizes (the) senses and provides room for sound, weather, seasons (and) nature to take place within us” (Bergdoll, 2003). Another project, Welcomm City in Seoul of 2000, took up the challenge of dealing effectively and sympathetically with a collection of small property holdings very typical of the city. The scheme required the

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Sujoldang House, 1993

unification of five small parcels, much as found objects in the grain and scale of the cityscape. But, instead of a single building, the structure is sliced into four regular cuboid blocks of four floors in height, separated by gaps and with one larger void at the center of the composition. As shown in the accompanying illustration, all are raised on a continuous two-story podium, which houses car parking and other shared facilities and is fronted by a broad concrete automobile pull-over strip. The blocks are sheathed in corten steel and appear as monolithic solids and more abstract and regularized versions of many of their neighbors. The voids and gaps, however, while ostensibly empty and apparently purposeless, form a semi-open courtyard, while also introducing a pleasant variety of glimpses through various levels to become visible as one moves about, unfolding in a series of routes across the vertical landscape (Cooper, 2010). Similarly, Seung’s earlier Daehakro Culture Center of 1997 occupies a modest site in the eponymous neighborhood of Jongno District, on the central northern side of the Han River in Seoul. Among other buildings that comprise this theater and performing arts district involving some 100 or so establishments, the Culture Center, like most other buildings, confronts the street with a relatively blank upper facade some four floors tall. The only embellishments, if one can call them that, are again the gaps within and among the volumes, by way of the arcade-like storefronts at ground level and the vertical up-and-down movement space between the main Center volume and a gridded concrete screen wall on the building’s right-hand side, and allowing entry to the Center. Again, and as at Welcomm City, the focus is on making the in-between void space lively, interesting and engaging. This is especially the case by way of contrast, yet again, with the boxy, blank volume that plays host to TOM, the Musical Theater Academy. Daehakro, also known as Daehangno, is both an area and a pedestrianized street (Young People or University Street). In the mid-1870s the College of Liberal Arts and Sciences of Seoul National University was located in what is now Marronnier Park, the site of many domestic and international art festivals (Mitzutani, 2008).

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Welcomm City in situ, 2000

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Welcomm City’s Solids and Voids, 2000

When City Meets Landscape at Welcomm City, 2000

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Daehakro Culture Center in situ, 1997

The Hyehwa Culture Center by Seung and the Student Dormitory by his co-author and partner Hyun-sik Min (1946–) at Daejeon University provide an interesting and contrastive interpretation on the common theme of ‘emptiness’ expounded by both architects. Min, who is usually highly rational and systematic in composition, produced a coherent succession of spaces where corridors act as transition areas between public, inner court areas and private student rooms, summing up Min’s concept of exteriorized interiors and interiorized exteriors. Seung’s Culture Center, by contrast, up the hill, posits a huge open deck in the middle of the building, creating effectively a dynamic urban-like space (Anonymous, 2011).

Hyehwa Culture Center at Daejeon University, 2008

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Hyehwa Culture Center at Daejeon University, 2008

Student Dormitory at Daejeon University, 2014

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Student Dormitory at Daejeon University, 2014

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Both Min and Seung served as architectural coordinators of Paju Book City, located northwest of Seoul up against the 38th parallel with North Korea. Created by a group of publishers in 1989 and based on the idea of books and their production, Paju was to be a ‘model city’ showcasing a ‘common good’ above individual self-interest, as well as being in harmony with its existing environment. The project began in 2001 with the Asia Publishing Culture and Information Center and led to another 100 or so buildings housing some 250 publishing firms across a site of 87.5 hectares adjacent to a river. Min and Seung worked in collaboration with Florian Beigel of the University of North London, England, with Jong-kyu Kim and Young Joon Kim preparing architectural guidelines. Paju Book City was divided into sectors, with each sector assigned to a lead architect and with most Korean publishers maintaining an office there. In addition, a program of restaurants, cafes, galleries and exhibition spaces complemented the office buildings of the publishing houses. As shown in the accompanying illustration, the basic urban plan consisted of a roughly semi-circular arrangement of roads, with perpendicular roads leading back from the riverfront out into the countryside. Within the large blocks that were created lines of publishing houses were placed along with supporting facilities and with green belts in-between. Larger C-shaped buildings formed the outer edge of the settlement at the edge with the countryside (Lee, 2012).

Paju Book City in situ, 2001

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Asia Publishing Culture and Information Center at Paju Book City, 2001

A Library with No Restrictions at Paju Book City, 2001

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Gilmosery Building in Seoul, in situ and Interior, 2012

Making Frames, Walls and Voids The other prominent member of the initial 4.3 Group, as mentioned earlier, was In Cheurl Kim (1947–). He was a graduate of Hongik University in 1972, with a Master’s in architecture from Kookmin University in 1981. In between he worked for Deok-mun Eom’s firm from 1972 to 1986. He then went on in 1986 to found Inje Construction, which became renamed as Archium in 1996. Somewhat akin to Seung and Min he worked with something of a traditional Korean attitude based on the ‘beauty of absence’. He was also a professor at the Department of Architecture at Chung-Ang University (AURIC, 2009). Like Chung-up Kim, he shared an interest in architectural technology from an earlier period. Indeed, both aspects came to the fore in his project for the Gilmosery Building of 2012, located on a narrow street in Seocho-gu, Seoul. There the building balloons out and back to a height of six floors above grade with one below grade, as shown here. The prominent reinforced-concrete frame encloses the built space of the 382-square meter site. Incorporating about 1029 square meters of office space, the building is the home of Settle Bank, a banking software development company. Ruling out a typical rectilinear box-like

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shape in order to meet guidelines of lot-coverage ratio and floor-area ratio, the architect chose an atypical form. Instead of enclosing a space and thus creating confined areas, space was opened out. In effect, the curved skeletal structure in section creates the space of the building and frames its form. It also hides the contents of the floors and creates a gap between the external structure and the space. This creates a ‘surplus space’ that is classified as neither inside nor outside. It is, in effect, an external colonnade across the entire facade (Griffiths, 2014). An earlier building, the Urban Hive of 2009, was a similar exploration of the framing of a multi-storied building and the space inside that resulted in a new kind of skyscraper. Located in the Gangnam District of Seoul, the Urban Hive rises some 17 floors with four floors down in its basement. It is called ‘hive’ because of its unusual honeycombed exterior. This is not simply aesthetic but a unique method of supporting all of the structural load of the building with lessened weight in reinforced concrete. There are no columns or load-bearing frameworks inside the building. Consequently, it is spacious, with larger interior floor spaces than a more typical structure would yield using frame and curtain-wall technology. The site area of the building is around 1000 square meters, with a built area of 585 square meters per floor. The roof hosts an enclosed green space. The honeycomb is in a hexagonal pattern and thus very strong inherently, also with the reduced weight of concrete from a sheer surface. Each round hole of the honeycomb is 1.5 meters in diameter for a total of 3371 holes. Steel reinforcing is delicately woven around each hole to form a diagrid. The overall result is a designed structural skin that is integrated and not separated like a more normal structure with curtain wall skins. This also allows perception of the building from the outside as a singular volume, as the usual floors behind the skin are invisible (Park, 2010). One of In Cheurl Kim’s first buildings was the Kim Ok-Gil Memorial Hall of 1998, built to commemorate the former President of Ewha Women’s University and Minister of Education (Gleysken, 1999). Located near the Great West Wall in the Seodaemun District of Seoul, also the locale of Ewha Women’s University, the Memorial Hall is placed on a very small tract of around 60 square meters. Again with an interest

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Urban Hive in situ, 2008

in structure and space in between, Kim deploys a brutalist architectural approach to create five large rectangular frames of exposed concrete both inside and outside, some 30 centimeters thick and descending in height down to a single story as one looks at them end on. The perception is one of a relatively massive minimalist sculpture rather than of a building, not inappropriate for a memorial. Viewed from the other side and internally, the frameless glazing and exposed concrete allows the space to flow out, so to speak, unimpeded to the streets beyond. This also evokes a sense that the space is at once sharply defined though not entirely captured or confined. At night, the Memorial Hall glows from the inside dining areas, as shown in the accompanying illustration, heightening the purely sculptural effect (Jung, 2013, p. 136).

Urban Hive, Interior, 2008

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Kim Ok-gil Memorial Hall in the Evening, 1998

Kim Ok-gil Memorial Hall, Detailed View, 1998

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The Bauzium Sculpture Museum of 2015 is something of a complete synthesis of In Cheurl Kim’s and Archium’s space-making, blurring of interiority and exteriority, building with nature and a site, as well as the use of a certain humility and straightforwardness in construction. Named for the Garden of Rock, the gallery is located in Goseong-gun, a county on the East Coast of South Korea, abutting the border with North Korea and just beyond the spine of the Taebaek Mountains running down the eastern side of the Korean peninsula. The overall site is dominated by the massive Ulsanbawi Rock to the northeast and is routinely swept by strong winds coming from that direction, as well as sea breezes from the east. The actual building site was a 4,500-squaremeter vegetable garden owned by the sculptor Myoung Sook Kim, who commissioned the museum and had lived there for at least a decade or so. Extensive walls or fences divide the site into several courtyards for displaying sculpture, as shown in the accompanying site plan, and each is associated primarily with one of three pavilions. They are: the Modern Sculpture Pavilion that hosts the permanent exhibit and sculpture collection; the Myoung Sook Kim Sculpture Gallery for her own exhibition space and atelier; and the Special Pavilion for hosting special exhibitions and curators. Each is on the order of 150 square meters in area, or a total of 450 square meters and only ten percent of the site area. The space or courtyard formed for each pavilion comprises primarily water, grass and gravel, respectively (Day, 2015). The entire composition is made up of five basic elements, as shown in the accompanying diagram. They are: roofs, partitions, frames, walls and floors. The walls and fences creating the spaces within the site also involve a number of combinations, such as dividers; zones; crooked configurations; crossed arrangements, including overlaps and gaps between walls to the pavilions and fences; and enclosed figures within the overall plan (Day, 2015). As such, the fences draw lines between spaces with different lengths and heights. Roofs are then placed where fences overlap or bend. In other words, the buildings do not have a form per se other than by way of the roof placed on the walls. The roofs, in turn, are made of gray zinc and cantilever over the glazed wall partitions and fences, as well as the solid walls. It was the view of the architects that the architecture should not boast where sculpture

is to be presented (Day, 2015). The fences are also humble rather than fancy, returning to one of the central concepts of the 4.3 Group. They are rough-formed with cracks, and because they are also windbreaks for the prevailing winds, they become ‘greened’, as illustrated here, by airborne seeds and soil entering the cracks and growing and clinging to the fences. Thus, a living, organic component is deftly and systematically introduced into the space-making by In Cheurl Kim (Mairs, 2015).

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Architectural Essences and Themes Apart from Seung’s and Kim’s offices, several other architects loosely constituted the 4.3 Group, although over time the movement gradually dissolved or dispersed. These would include Kyung Kook Woo and his Monghakjae Residence and Sung-Yong Joh and his Hapjeong-dong House. Both projects shared similarities with Seung’s Sujoldang Residence and its courtyards. Indeed, the 4.3 Group strove to realize a form of urbanism and its architecture exemplified by Bukchon, the old aristocratic area of Seoul adjacent to the royal palace complexes. The architects were clearly fascinated by the diverse range of traditional hanoks there, as well as by the labyrinthian lanes, interlocking walls and houses and the blurring of public and private space in the madang (yard) (Jung, 2013, pp. 132–135). All were regarding space as an essence of architecture and in a manner that drew on the past and the here and now, simultaneously, as well as more importantly on a Korean concept of space to be found in the hanok, the madang and, more abstractly, the void. There was also the coincident recognition of the weft and weave of the urban fabric, so to speak, and of Seoul being predominantly made up of small property holdings and modest parcels. Seung’s and others’ urges were to make something out of this, dynamically, poetically

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Bukchon and Its Hanoks

and without the destruction by large, expansive corporate projects. Given the ensemble characteristics of traditional Korean architecture, this could also be regarded as a return to the past in making movements forward into the present-future. As such, conceptual movement from ‘space’, rather than enclosure, was made to ‘void’ and all that might imply. Here, the ‘void’ was not necessarily a space in which something particular happens. It was or certainly could be regarded almost in the Daoist manner of ‘wei, wu wei’ or ‘doing, doing nothing’. In other words, it is a space where the doing or not doing can occur and be welcomed and readily accommodated. More simply put, a ‘doing’ is a habitual way for things to be in a certain way. As such, it is an overlay that is being placed on top of the world and prevents us from dealing with the world as it is but rather dealing with it as it is in our heads (Steenrod, 2012). From this also comes a reaching out towards naturalism and the ‘organic’, clearly visible in In Cheurl Kim’s Bauzium project, for instance. Returning to the small properties and the like within Korea’s urban scene with its inherent grain and substance, ‘naturalism’ there can also be regarded as leaving it be and working with it and not against it, another trait of the 4.3 Group’s philosophy. Therefore, if we take the concept of ‘space’, in this Korean sense, to move from particular programs of space and hanoks and palatial courts, through space as a mediating mechanism as in madang or the yard, then on into the deeper philosophical yet tangible realm of the ‘void’, manifestation of this continuum truly arises with the 4.3 Group of architects and Korean architectural identity. The other obvious feature of the 4.3 Group, almost by their own stance and definition, is the reactionary gestures with what they saw in place in South Korea. Indeed, over all the periods so far discussed in this volume, there is a strong self-referential aspect of one period or regime of architectural production following another. At least as argued here, the Joseon returned to the past to move forward. During the Colonial Period with Japan in control, the Korean response remained largely muted in its colonial domain of modern production. With Park and company there was more of the same with regard to the internal necessity of a rather narrow, production-oriented form of modernization and reactions to that by the two architects Kim, moving back

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again to the Korean past before coming to this present phase with the 4.3 Group. Mostly architects were home-grown, educated and interning in a milieu that was certainly taking in from the outside and emulating what was going on in neighboring circumstances, such as Japan, but remaining mostly self-referential with regard to their South Korean context. In this regard, one of the broad identifying characteristics of Koreanness is just that, a lot like han minjok and bloodlines, a preoccupation with themselves. Further, this self-referencing does not necessarily curtail or negate novelty. Clearly there can be and is some and even considerable variety in the manner of being pre-occupied. However, in architecture, one can also argue that the degrees of freedom vis-à-vis other pursuits are generally narrower, at least at a certain level of generalization. This often usually means a loosening of relations among parts of architectural wholes and higher degrees of abstraction of formal concepts. With the 4.3 Group we saw both, again particularly with the Bauzium project by In Cheurl Kim, for instance, and in the attention and elevation of the commonplace by Hyo-sang Seung in his Welcomm City project, among others.

1. Traditional Korean Houses

a. Goisan Kim, Gi-Eung House

b. Andong Euiseong Kim’s Family House

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The Sixth Republic and Returning Contem­ poraries Ch

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As described in the introduction, the transfer of political power from Young-sam Kim to Dae-jung Kim (1924–2009) was the first to be accomplished by peaceful means (Kim, 1998). Kim immediately approached the rather daunting task of recovery from the financial crisis the nation found itself in, accomplishing a firmer economic footing in the relatively short span of a couple of years. As a part of the necessary restructuring, government support for Information Technology (IT) was increased significantly, so much so that, when further sustained, it pushed South Korea to the forefront of the field of endeavor. A stronger program of historical conservation was embarked upon, especially with the registration of notable cultural properties such as UNESCO Cultural Heritage sites. Throughout, Kim pursued his so-called Sunshine Policy towards North Korea, seeking some form of rapprochement. South Korea also played host with Japan for the 2002 FIFA World Cup tournament, cheered on the field by their demonstrative ‘Red Devil’ fans. Moo-hyun Roh (1946–2009) succeeded Kim as the President in 2003, largely on a platform encouraging participatory government. He also took a somewhat longer-term economic view, now that the crisis was over, executing market-based reforms at a gradual pace. However, youth unemployment remained high and real estate values, particularly in Seoul, rose at an alarming rate. On the infrastructural front, the high-speed train – the KTX – was inaugurated with the line from Seoul to Busan in the south. Roh also attempted to dilute the collusive ties between politics and the business community, though ultimately running afoul on corruption and impeachment charges himself. Soon after leaving office he committed suicide in 2009 (Buzo, 2002; and Lee, 2005). Myung-bak Lee (1941–) took over the presidency in 2008 after a landslide victory from the conservative political camp, ushering in an era of ‘creative pragmatism’. A former successful Mayor of Seoul and CEO of Hyundai Engineering and Construction, Lee also set about to revitalize the flagging economy and to ease relations with the United States, which had deteriorated in preceding, more leftward leaning governments. His bold stand on the Cheonggyecheon Restoration Project, quickly rectifying an earlier engineering failure, won him plaudits as a Mayor, and he carried this ‘can-do’ pragmatic attitude into the

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Blue House as President. Pursuing a global diplomacy, especially with regional neighbors, he further strengthened ties with the United States through tougher policies towards North Korea. Hosting the G20 Summit in 2010, he pushed for more economic liberalization and privatization. Lee was succeeded by Geun-hye Park (1952–) in 2013 as President. She was the daughter of Chung-hee Park and acting ‘First Lady’ after her mother’s tragic assassination. With her election she became the first woman elected head of state in Northeast Asia. After an attempted cover-up of the Sewol Ferry Disaster and improper dealings in matters of state with an un-elected friend, she was impeached in 2016 amid large mass protests. With successful impeachment she was removed from office in 2017 (Breen, 2017). Park was then followed by Jae-in Moon (1953–), a consummate negotiator, who met with North Korea’s Kim Jong-un soon after his election in 2018. To date, Moon has pursued a balanced policy with the United States and maintained high degrees of popularity, winning re-election in 2020 during the Covid-19 pandemic by a wide margin (Campbell, 2017; and The Economist, 2020). Generally speaking, during these last two decades, South Korea has recovered strongly from its earlier crisis doldrums of the late 1990s and early 2000s. The political system of the Sixth Republic moved through a sequence of peaceful political transitions while also moving through a couple of impeachments. In the process, as a relatively small country, it has emerged as a major player in the realms of digital technologies, recognizable cultural products and advanced social media (Jin, 2017, p. 43).

Spatial Recoveries

Most if not all the architects under discussion in these stages of the Sixth Republic in South Korea went abroad to prestigious schools of architecture after completing their first degrees at home. Some even lingered longer, joining local firms abroad before returning home to South Korea. Minsuk Cho (1966–) is one such individual. He completed ­ epartment his undergraduate degree at the Architectural Engineering D of Yonsei University before going on to the Graduate School of Architecture, Planning and Preservation at Columbia University in New York City. After that he established Cho Slade Architects in New York in 1998, before setting up Mass Studies in Seoul in 2003. In 2008, he and his office completed the Boutique Monaco ‘Missing Matrix’ building in the Gangnam District of Seoul. It is primarily or ostensibly an apartment tower, though also for work-live environments, comprising 172 units, in a rise of 27 floors, with basement levels mainly for parking, topped by several floors of commercial and cultural space as illustrated here. The unique character of the building derives from the multi-storied cutouts and garden terraces in an otherwise rectilinear building with a U-shaped plan, also as shown here (Space, 2008, pp. 76–91).

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With a wide variety of 49 different unit types aimed at rental in a hotel-office market, the cutouts were not predetermined or otherwise arbitrary. They came about in order to deal with the allowable floor area ratio for the building and yet allowing it to reach the maximum allowable height of 100 meters. Among the hotel-office units, 40 have bridges within spaces dividing private from more public areas and 22 have full garden terraces (Imanova, 2017). The exposed criss-cross structure at the lower levels was also introduced as a means of load transferral from the units above, through the relatively open lower floors to the basement levels below. This aspect was already under construction when Cho took over the project. The overall result is an unusual and elegant assemblage of parts, including the garden void spaces within the building (Rowe and Kan, 2014, p. 84). Indeed, the radical adaption to building codes and rules in play was not without precedent elsewhere. The WoZoCo housing complex of 1997 in Amsterdam-Osdorp by the Dutch firm MVRDV, for instance, resulted in a building hybrid of cantilevered units in order to respond to the client’s requirement of 100 units of elderly housing on a site where they could not be accommodated in a conventional manner (MVRDV, 2020).

Boutique Monaco in situ, 2008

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Boutique Monaco, Court and Sky Gardens, 2008

Boutique Monaco, Interior, 2008

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Cho and his colleagues went on to design the Daum Space.1 or Daum Jeju Headquarters complex, completed in 2011. Located on Jeju Island to the south of the South Korean mainland, the project was for Daum Communications, an Internet company. It was composed of office and supporting facilities for 350 employees. A five-story office building, it is essentially the first completed structure on a previously undeveloped site, where the company has chosen to relocate. As one commentator put it, according to the architects, this was a “rebellious attempt to move away from the urban setting” of South Korean cities and form a creative community “comparable to Silicon Valley” (Frearson, 2012). The overall development plot for this concept is a 132,000-squaremeter tract, parallel to a main road. The masterplan is designed for linear growth, dividing the site into rural and urban, as well as formal and informal zones. The 70-meter-wide by 800-meter-long first-phase superstructure is symbolically intended as an ‘information superhighway’ and conforms to elemental structural modules of 8.4 meters by 8.4 meters, with the varieties of attributes allowing the overall structure to extend or end as necessary and to allow for expansion both horizontally and vertically. This results in vaulted and cantilevered spaces, also with large open planes. Consequently, it provides a way for the entire ensemble or campus to meet future needs. Open on all four sides, this main center allows for scenic views to a nearby forest, to Halla Mountain and to the ocean. The ground floor serves shared and public functions. The second floor has a double floor-to-ceiling height and a large open-plan work-space. There is then a block of conference rooms and a library on the third floor. The remaining fourth and fifth floors are smaller, allowing for more intimate office quarters, project and conference rooms, replete with outdoor terraces of wooden decking or grass. Overall Daum Space.1 has a systematic rigor, but with an array and mix of spaces that is also organic and village-like (Frearson, 2012).

Daum Space.1 in situ, 2011

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Songwon Art Center in situ, Seoul, 2012

Another project by Minsuk Cho and his colleagues, particularly Kisu Park, is the Songwon Art Center of 2012 in the venerable Bukchon area of Seoul, predominated by the hanok typology. There the design dilemma was defined by a need to conserve existing values and also to contribute to what is there at the same time. The site was challenging, at only 297 square meters in area, but defined by two sharply intersecting roadways and a slope, as seen in the accompanying illustration. Optimizing the site parameters, including the site plan and the allowable elevation from the adjacent heritage site, only two-thirds of the maximum buildable floor area could be placed above grade. Therefore, the main exhibition spaces were located below grade, resulting in a five-storied building with three below and two above grade. Then the need for some car parking also posed a challenge due to the slope of the site, requiring the building to be lifted up slightly and have a piloti scheme with the car park as a semi-basement, and with two floors above and two below. The above-grade mass was formed as a shell-like reinforced concrete uni-body, balanced on a half pyramid in the corner, and as shown here, housing the entrance and a stairway. A skylight above takes up a large portion of the sloped roof, with the top two floors housing a commercial restaurant and spaces for social functions. The intention, according to the architects and as shown here, was “to have the building perceived as an ambiguous monolithic mass, both silent and unfamiliar” in an otherwise rather highly charged traditional setting (Mass Studies, 2013).

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A fourth project of note and also in a more commercial vein by Minsuk Cho and Mass Studies is the Songdo Triple Street Complex of 2017. Originating in a national government policy that went into effect in the second half of 2003, Songdo International City, which is part of the Incheon Free Economic Zone to the west of Seoul, was to reposition South Korea more competitively in world markets. Designation as a ‘free economic zone’ carried with it favorable conditions for development with regard to funding, regulation and infrastructural support (Rowe, 2011, p. 113). The business model in effect at Songdo involved heavy reliance on private finance. Overall, the project was developed by Gale International, a U.S. real estate development company, alongside the South Korean steel-making giant POSCO (Pollock, 2010, pp. 60–66). Construction began in 2002. Initial plans were proposed by the Dutch firm of Rem Koolhaas and OMA, followed by a more definitive scheme by the American firm of Kohn Pedersen Fox (KPF). The functional program of use called for ten million square meters of mixed use, including around 50 percent in commercial space. The Triple Street Complex is part of that use category. It is a 570-meterlong, 59,000-square-meter shopping complex and public space with an emphasis on a new kind of hybrid retail, cultural and urban experience. Along its length the complex is sub-divided into four volumes covered with a vast elevated public roofscape. A more or less continuous black and white patterned floor undergirds the ground level with a large mall space and passage below. The ‘triple street’ label can be ascribed in two ways. The first is the three public spaces of roof, grade and below grade access. The second is that there are three predominant routes along and through the complex. Two are the parallel streets that frame the longitudinal edges of the project and the third is the central movement right-of-way. Edge-on the profile of the complex, as shown here, rises at one end with a multi-storied volume that contains a cinema and the monumental main entrance to the complex. There is also an underground market and a ‘Media Tunnel’ that is a part of the third right-of-way. Commercial outlets tend to be medium- to high-end with H&M, Zara, trendy restaurants, cafes and so on (Imanova, 2017).

Songdo Triple Street Complex, 2017

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Spatial Flows

Another prominent returning architect was Moongyu Choi (1961–). He also graduated from the Department of Architectural Engineering at Yonsei University before going on also to the Graduate School of Architecture, Planning and Preservation at Columbia University in New York City for his Master of Architecture degree in 1991. Having worked at Toyo Ito Architects, Hanul Architects & Engineers and Group See, he founded Ga.A Architects in 1999. Choi is also a professor of architectural engineering at Yonsei University. His Ssamziegil project of 2004–05 was built in Insa-dong, an area of central Seoul long inhabited and frequented by literati, artisans and artists. Today it is dotted with antique stores, small restaurants and shops featuring local Korean artifacts and produce. It also plays host to a number of art galleries displaying contemporary works on a rotating basis. In fact, along with Ssamziegil a significant number of three- and four-storied structures in the form of a local vernacular built around vertical pedestrian access have sprung up. The nearby Dukwon Gallery by Moon-sung Kwon is an example. Programmatically, Ssamziegil is an exhibition, shopping and ­ ntypical restaurant court. It is placed on a small, irregular though not u

parcel of 500 square meters and contains a total enclosed floor area of 4,000 square meters, with two floors below grade, including one for parking, and four floors above grade. Notable as something of a re-interpretation of an indigenous courtyard building type, albeit with some scalar amplification, Ssamziegil can also be thought of as an extension of the streets around it. Connecting at ground level to these streets at five points, it has an upward-turning ramp on the open courtyard interior that winds up from the ground floor for some 500 meters to its top floor. Along the way there are 72 arts and crafts stores, a restaurant, an art gallery and a rooftop cafe (Rowe, 2011, p. 135; and Pearson, 2007, pp. 88–91). The project was commissioned by the fashion mogul Ho-gyun Cheon, who worked quite closely with the architects (Cho, 2004). As Choi himself remarked, “I didn’t want to create a heavy structure that would disrupt the natural flow of the area. I wanted to introduce an extension of the street vertically (Cho, 2004; and Choi, 2005, pp. 36–63). Reflecting its intrinsic madang quality, the open court often plays host to outdoor performances and the staging of temporary shopping stalls.

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Ssamziegil in situ, 2004

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Ssamziegil, Plan and Section, 2004

Ssamziegil, Courtyard, 2004

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Ssamziegil, Courtyard, 2004

A second project by Moongyu Choi and Ga.A Architects is the Veritas Hall at Yonsei International Campus of 2013. In fact, having worked primarily with private clients, the firm then began to branch out, at Toyo Ito’s urging, into work for more public buildings, like university campuses, libraries, or memorials (Choi, 2013). Indeed, they began to work on the campuses for Soongsil University, Seoul University and the Yonsei International Campus in Songdo, described earlier. Based on his own personal experience, primarily at Yonsei’s main campus from his student days onwards, Choi regarded them as primarily places for meeting people, rather than as functional collections. Accordingly, he embarked on a design process that explicitly took the streets, paths and corridors of university life as initial and defining exigencies (Choi, 2013). His resulting compositions, like those of a small city, included multiple entries, sometimes up to as many as 25 in number, as for a student union lying at the heart of university life. In this kind of approach to Veritas Hall at Yonsei’s new campus, the idea of a ‘meeting place’ was expanded to a ‘campus space’. Founded in 2010 and completed at least in its current form as recently as 2014, the International Campus in Songdo is composed of 21 newly constructed buildings. Veritas Hall is sited within the gridded plan of the campus towards its center and overlooking the Underwood Memorial Library, which lies on a prominent axial alignment at the campus center. The Hall, like most of the other buildings, sits on a site flanked by green space and streets. It has a floor area of 9,587 square meters and is four floors above grade with a basement below. As depicted in the accompanying illustrations, the building has a taut, un-adorned horizontal facade with two rows of pronounced square windows. It is punctuated to one side by a horizontal slot of space terminating at a rather grand stairway running down from the second floor to the landscaped area towards the library. In keeping with Choi’s idea of ‘meeting place’, the ground floor has multiple entrances and is articulated in a manner where the inner space of the building literally sweeps out into the exterior plaza. Thus, inner and outer space are merged, also by the second-floor exterior staircase.

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Veritas Hall at Yonsei International Campus, 2013

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Yonsei International Campus in Context and Interior Court, 2013

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Programmatically, large exhibition spaces occupy the ground floor, labs and lecture rooms the second floor and administrative offices the top floors. Choi’s insistence on non-separate and non-segregated spaces is also driven by a belief that “campus architecture has to develop the ability to endure and cater to rapid changes in the education sector”. It is not about “novelties and trends” (Choi, 2013). A more recent project of Moongyu Choi and Ga.A Architects is the H Music Library of 2015. Designed and built for the credit card company Hyundai Card as a place for providing members with services, the project is located on Itaewon-ro Road in central Seoul. The site was previously occupied by a building more or less similar to the fourand five-storied buildings lining the road now, as shown here, and affords an excellent view down to the Han River, Gangnam District and Gwanak Mountain. Realizing this potential aspect, the architects decided to open up a break in the architectural scene. Reflecting an attitude not dissimilar to the earlier 4.3 Group’s concern for what is there, they decided that the appropriate urban response would be “expressed by the subtraction of volumes rather than their addition to the urban scene” (Choi, 2017). This was accomplished by a capacious double-height open frame on the Itaewon-ro edge, which acted, effectively, as a belvedere for people coming off the street, enjoying the open space, entering the library and, of course, taking in the view, as shown here. The lot size was relatively small at 738 square meters. However, the gross useable floor area was more sizeable, at 2,963 square meters, with two floors above grade at street level and five below, partly accomplished through the steep slope away from the road above. Prominent interior and exterior surfaces, particularly of the open frame, were corrugated steel sheet. Low circular seats were also affixed to the entry floor under the open frame, just beyond the entrance to the side section of the library (Choi, 2017).

H Music Library, Undercroft, 2015

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H Music Library in situ, 2015

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Paul Smith Flagship Store, Seoul, in situ, 2011

Others

In addition to these two protagonists among architects returning to South Korea from their education abroad, there are some others who warrant mention. Chanjoong Kim, for instance, was a graduate of Korea University, who studied at the ETH in Zurich before taking a Master of Architecture degree from Harvard University’s Graduate School of Design in 2000. He then worked for Hanwool Architecture Company in Seoul, Chan Krieger Associates in Cambridge, Mass., and KSWA in Boston. He has been principal of System Lab in Seoul since its founding, doubling as a visiting professor of architecture at Kyung Hee University. One of his notable projects is the Paul Smith Flagship Store of 2011 in the Gangnam District of Seoul, a popular shopping area filled with luxury brands, not unlike the Ginza in Tokyo. Restricted to a ground floor plan of 330 square meters, but with the client wanting to accommodate larger floors at upper levels of the building, the volume expands outward from its ground level base and is encased in a concrete curvilinear shell, punctuated by small circular windows (Mairs, 2014). As stated by the architect, “we had to create a concrete shell with a maximized floor area ratio within legal regulations, ­ overed by rounding, cutting and connecting all the edges” (Kim, 2011). C in industrial-grade gloss white paint to conceal joints and other structural aspects, the shell presents a sleek, pleasant appearance to visitors, simultaneously dramatizing the plastic geometry of the building. The singularity of this object-like appearance is also reminiscent of

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several flagship fashion stores that flank Omotesando avenue in Tokyo, such as the Prada store by Herzog and de Meuron or the Dior building by SANAA (Rowe, 2011, pp. 170–174). What at earlier times and in other places would have been storefronts are now (relatively small) jewel-box-like architectural icons. Within the 330-square-meter ground floor building, the Paul Smith Store has a gross floor area of 919 square meters, rising some 15 meters in height to the roof apex sheltering a meeting room. There are three shopping floors and two office levels within the building as well as a basement level, which is also the only one with a rectangular plan. As shown in the illustrations here, the building section is quite complex, with significant space below grade level and including 14 slots for vehicles in a stacked arrangement. The variegated floor plans generally have stairs and vertical services on the left-hand side and spatial volumes of retail floors and offices on the right-hand side (Archiscene, 2011).

Paul Smith Flagship Store, Seoul, Section, 2011

Paul Smith Flagship Store, Seoul, Interior, 2011

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Raemian Gallery, Anyang, 2009

Kim’s and System Lab’s earlier work on the Raemian Gallery of 2009 in Suwon-si, south of Seoul, and on the Place 1 office and commercial facility in Samseong-dong of the Gangnam District of Seoul, later in 2017, focuses on the outside skins of facades. In the case of the Raemian Gallery, a repetitive structure in various places, a recyclable plastic facade system was developed, as shown here, using a variant of the ‘Model House’ system of Construction Company, a fabricator in South Korea (Archilovers, 2020). The client for Place 1 was the KEB Hana Bank in Seoul. Their office/commercial building already existed and was remodeled by System Lab. It has a site area of 1,850 square meters, a building area of 930 square meters and a gross floor area of around 16.296 square meters. It raises nine floors to a height of about 45 meters and has four basement levels and parking for 109 vehicles. In addition to inclusion of some 24-hour functions in the building, System Lab redeveloped and re-skinned, as it were, the facades, using prefabricated modules made up of ultra-high-performance concrete, sheathed in white aluminum. With a strong three-dimensional character, as shown here, these facade elements contain circular window openings with art disks created by young artists. Each opening has a diameter that is on the order of a floor height, creating a dynamic and highly interesting adjacent interior space (Emporis, 2017). ­ ilsoo Another younger architect, again within the returning group, is P Maing (1978–). He received his Bachelor of Science and Master of Architecture degrees from Seoul National University and a Master of Architecture in Urban Design degree from Harvard’s Graduate School of Design in 2011. He spent several years working in the SPACE Group and also at Perkins Eastman before returning to South Korea and establishing MMK+ with two other Harvard graduates in 2016, Donghwan Moon and Jihoon Kim. Maing is also currently an assistant professor at Hongik University’s School of Architecture. The recipients of numerous awards and competition placings, MMK+’s major completed work is the Nodeul Island complex of 2016 for the Seoul Metropolitan Government (Park, 2020). His office is also responsible for the urban design on this island in the Han River, which is crossed by the elevated Hangang Bridge and Expressway. Largely comprising decks defining multiple levels, the site area of the complex is 119,350

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square meters, with a building area of 9,619 square meters. Housing cultural programs and neighborhood living facilities, the project reconfigures the ground of the island, mitigating the level differences from the bridge and expressway on high to the landscape below. In effect, a multi-level oasis is created in the middle of Seoul. Primarily the upper level comprises a wide public open space with flexibility to become a venue for diverse cultural events with temporary structures. On the western downstream side, large-scale access is provided downwards to an event space, billed as the Nodeul madang. Lower levels are designed to accommodate start-up offices, shops, restaurants, small plazas, a street market and a 500-seat performance space. There the spatial possibilities are arranged within a module to promote evolving change and where unregulated events can happen. Replete with alleys and vertical connections, the atmosphere of a traditional village, or maeul, is created (Holmes, 2016). All told, the overall landscape of the island, abandoned and largely uninhabited for 40 years, has two different characters. One involves restoration of the wild forested landscape of the island, the other is the aggregation of cultural venues as a maeul and madang, all circumscribed by pathway loops.

Place 1, Seoul, 2017

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Nodeul Island Development, Concert Area, 2016

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Nodeul Island Development, Detailed Views, 2016

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Nodeul Island Development in situ, 2016

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Realizing Cultural Potentials From the late 1990s onwards, a notable rise in South Korean presence occurred on the world stage. It was most notable in cultural products, cultural industries and in digital media, electronics and automobiles. Recently, among the most famous boy bands in the world, the top seven were from South Korea, led by BTS (Bangtan Boys). Admittedly this is a genre-biased selection, but even among world-wide best current popular music groups, BTS ranks number three, according to ranker.com. South Korean skin care products, alongside of those from Japan, are renowned for being gentler on the skin and more innovative, as well as popular because of their high quality and affordability. Among the world’s top semi-conductor firms, Samsung ranks number one with SK Hynix, also from South Korea, and in fourth place by sales (Walton, 2020). Among the makes of motor vehicle manufacturers, Hyundai–Kia of South Korea rose from number 9 in 2004 to number 4 in 2010 and to number 3 in 2017 (OCIA, 2017). According to UNESCO, a cultural industry is held to exist when cultural goods and services are produced, stored or distributed on industrial and commercial lines (Dal, 2017, p. 42). In the South Korean context this can be seen in three components of the so-called Korean Wave exports. They are: 1. cultural products such as TV dramas, popular music, films and digital games, with essential content residing especially in TV dramas and K-pop music;

2. ‘culture products’ with semi-essential content such as video games and food and; 3. para-Korean Wave products like tourism, cosmetics, plastic surgery, fashion, language services and technology platforms. To some extent there was also an intertwining across products and industries with, for instance, advances in digital media occurring within evolving industrial and technological contexts (Yoon and Dal, 2017, pp. xi-xix). K-pop Boy Band BTS

Strictly speaking, architecture has not been an integral part of the Korean Wave, but certainly with the work of returning contemporary architects and others described here, its production has coincided with a high degree of interest and scrutiny from outside South Korea and, more broadly, in East Asia including China. This was also associated with a relatively sudden influx of well-known foreign architects working on significant state-sponsored and corporate projects, first in China and a little later in South Korea. As one astute commentator put it, around 2000 the ‘foreign legion had arrived (Fernandez-Galiano, 2007). Others tied international educational influences, a generation of new talent and an emphasis on individual architectural expression, to the same time period (Zhu, 2010, pp. 90–93). Certainly if one looks at Beijing with the CCTV-TVCC project by OMA beginning in 2001, together with the slightly earlier National Grand Theatre by Paul Andreu of 1998, and the Olympic sites from 2002 onwards, including the stadium by Herzog and de Meuron, or the projects in Shanghai, like the Grand Theater by Arte Charpentier of 1995 and the Jin Mao tower by SOM of 1999, it is both the influence and in situ practice of noted foreign architects that is very obvious. Almost simultaneously in South Korea, the Leeum Samsung Museum of Art by OMA, Mario Botta and Jean Nouvel of 1997; the Tangent Facade by Daniel Libeskind of 2005; the Dongdaemun Fashion Center by Zaha Hadid of 2008 and the Ewha Student Center by Dominique Perrault, also of 2008, produced a similar effect. Notable and signature architecture had arrived and, as in China, it encouraged and helped promote local architectural talent (Rowe, 2011; and Rowe and Kan, 2012).

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The term hallyu, or ‘Korean Wave’, was first used by the Ministry of Culture and Tourism in South Korea when it planned, produced and distributed a music CD in order to publicize K-pop to neighboring countries in 1999. It was quickly picked up by Chinese newspapers attracted by the music and its rising fan base. From then on, as noted by one culture critic, “once a very small country in the realm of popular culture and digital technologies, South Korea suddenly developed several recognizable culture products” (Dal, 2017, p. 43). Moreover, as another observer noted, “South Korea’s media market expansion facilitated export of popular culture and in a manner that did not smack of ‘cultural imperialism’ through its hybrid form, emotional proximity and oneness (Hyeri, 2017, pp. 225–229). From the mid to late 1990s the Korean Wave spread to China and then to Taiwan and Japan, breaking into the broader non–East Asian sphere at least by 2012. In fact, academic interest and research papers grew from single digits in the 2000s to 76 by 2016 (Yoon and Dal, 2017). This growth of hallyu was aided and abetted by favorable cultural politics, cultural affinities among Asian countries in the early stages and, generally, by economic growth in the East Asian region alongside of advanced digital and social media. Government also acted aggressively in supporting the culture industry, standing behind a complex network of different political and social actors. For instance, Youngsam Kim’s government initiated this ‘network’, apparently based on a report the President received that the export revenues of Spielberg’s classic Jurassic Park were the equivalent of 1.5 million Hyundai vehicles. New approaches were explored through delegation to the Bureau of Culture Industry within the Ministry of Culture. In addition, corporate capital from the likes of Samsung, Hyundai and Daewoo was attracted (Won, 2017, p. 33). Following this and during the economic crisis of the Dae-jung Kim era, the increasing popularity of K-pop both as an uplifting story and an engine for economic recovery attracted special attention. The government began to seriously consider cultural industries as fundamental national businesses. There was, for instance, a 500-times increase in budget allocation and, in 1998, a lifting of a ban on Japanese popular culture in order to engender competition. The subsequent government of Moo-hyun Roh actively promoted hallyu

through the Ministry of Culture and Tourism, which was established in 2001. Later, under President Myung-bak Lee, the emphasis was changed from ‘culture industry’ to ‘culture content industry’. Lee’s government employed the participation of eleven government ministries into the Content Industry Promotion Committee and, effectively, the Hallyu 2.0 era. This was followed by Geun-hye Park, with her ‘Creative Economy’ platform. In other words, from about 1993 onwards, each successive government shifted culture industry policy from protection to a promotion-orientation and to nationalism (Won, 2017, pp. 34–35). As Dean MacCannell aptly noted and was cited by Laurel Kendall, “the best indication of a final victory of modernity over other social-cultural arrangements is not the disappearance of the non-modern world but its artificial preservation and reconstruction in modern society” (MacCannell, 1999, p. 7; and Kendall, 2011, p. 2). As already described in chapter three, Korea had experienced early modernity as colonial modernity came in and through the Japanese Empire. At that time, the cityscape and buildings were instruments for the creation of desiring colonial subjects (Kendall, 2011, pp. 2–6). As has just been depicted here, Korean architectural tropes, in the sense of significant and recurring themes and devices, were employed in the work of the returning contemporary architects and even beforehand. In fact, a legacy appears to have emerged at least as far back as Swoo Geun Kim, involving deployment of hanok, madang and maeul to varying degrees and times. Moreover, it has become accessible through a variety of modern forms. Of late, glimpses of the maeul or traditional village form of settlement have appeared in the work of Maing and MMK+ on Nodeul Island and in the underlying conformation of Daum Space by Cho and Mass Studies. Courtyard-like or hanok-like arrangements have cropped up and been embraced by Cho again at Ssamziegil and by Choi and Ga.A Architects at the Hyundai Card Music Library. Far from nostalgic incorporation into projects, these tropes are rendered in a manner that facilitates their contemporary consumption and even sublimation but still in a manner that can also be identified as potentially Korean.

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Korean­ ness: Some Observa­ tions Ch

apt e

7

r

Returning to the introduction’s discussion of modernity and modernization, Korea – and South Korea since the separation in 1953 – has pursued what can probably most aptly be called a largely pathwaydependent form of modernization and one subject to several dramatic ‘turning points’. This path dependency was strongly shaped by foreign influence, especially early on, and by civil strife. It encompassed at least two or more industrial revolutions. One was in the hands of the Japanese and another in the hands of the military juntas, with probably a third now in the age of digital technology. Population growth overall was sustained, rising from around 17 million in 1900 to about 74 million in 2010. This increase has been higher in South Korea, since the separation, from around 20 to 50 million inhabitants, though also with birth rates declining in recent times. This compares to poorer North Korea with rises from around ten million in 1953 to 24 million in 2010 (Pratt, Rutt and Hoare, 1999; and Worldometer, 2020). Urbanization in the South, by contrast, has been rapid, particularly since the 1960s and ‘70s, with now 82 percent of the population living in urban circumstances (CEIC, 2020). Substantial shifts among political regimes was also a defining element of the pathway to modernization, ranging from feudal to colonial to autocratic to democratic. Mirroring this, four hegemonic periods stand out, as explained in the introduction and reflected in the chapters of this narrative. They are: the Late Joseon Dynasty, the Japanese Colonial Period, the rule of the military juntas, and the modern democratic era. The impact on architecture and architectural production during these various cultural moments was qualified by what seemed to matter by way of development, demand, orientation and style of approach. Professional education of Korean architects didn’t really start until the Japanese occupation and then slowly. Demand and orientation were largely dictated by the Japanese presence, and the ensuing style was their version of ‘modern’. During the Chung-hee Park era and the juntas, architecture served the modernizing agenda of a relatively narrow, export-oriented form of production, with some exceptions, as noted, and aimed at the expansion of the architectural profession. The more contemporary period, with several well-established local schools and practice venues, began with reactions to what was in place by notable architects and then developed through the contributions of an increasing number

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of foreign-educated South Korean architects, flourishing with regard to scope and styles of approach. What could be done as a practical matter also fluctuated as the construction industry in Korea matured and as the infusion of outside influences met with greater openness and permeability than had been the case at an earlier time. What remained relatively constant and now marks or typifies ‘Koreanness’ in architecture are three broad characteristics and defining features. They are: 1. the engagement and manner of appropriation of traditional tropes of Korean architecture, often beyond those similar elsewhere in East Asia; 2. the sustained and constant emphasis on the efficient delivery of projects and how that affects appearances; and 3. the cross- and ultimately self-referencing that has occurred from one stage of architectural production to another, though all within a relatively small range. Of these three, however, it is the first two that seem to most give an identity to South Korean architecture.

Traditional Tropes The emanation of many traditional tropes of South Korean architecture in this narrative derive from the Joseon Dynasty and, in particular, from its domestic landscapes. In the late 19th century, apart from foreign models, there were broadly speaking three types of housing outside of royal palaces. First, there was the yangban house, belonging to the aristocratic elite. It usually stood on a large site surrounded by fences and natural circumstances. It was typically composed of a cluster of buildings, including the men’s quarters (sarangchae), a main building (anchae) and adjacent servants’ quarters. These buildings were occupied and separated according to Confucian precepts of propriety and spatially separated by several courtyards (madang), which also acted as intermediary spaces (Yoshida, 2009, p. 128). The Go-Yang Hong residence in Sogong-dong, a neighborhood of Jongno-gu in Seoul, near the Deoksugung, is a good example of the type. Also known as Chebu-dong Hongjongmunga, it was constructed in 1913 and landmarked in 1994 (Seoul Development Institute, 2005, p. 72). Second, there were middle-class houses, also with fenced compounds in a self-similar way to the yangban houses, with one or two buildings within each compound and from one to two courtyard spaces (madangs). The Namsan Hanok Village (Namsamgol hanok maeul) provides good examples. Formerly a Joseon summer resort, which boasted superb scenery, it included houses of high government officials as well as well-to-do commoners (Visitseoul, 2013). It is also the site of a collection of five older hanok from the Joseon Dynasty. Third, there was the commoner housing, a more compact version of the larger hanok, invariably with a building of rooms along boundary walls defining a single madang (yard) in a generally U-shaped configuration. Sometimes there were also auxiliary wings for tenants and servants. Many had thatched roofs, in addition to those with tall pitched tiled roofs (Kim, 1991, pp. 189–197). All hanoks

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among the three types also had ondol floors, providing heating during the cold winter months. For the most part these used heat transfer from wood smoke to heat the underside of a thick masonry floor, like kang bed-stove heating used in similar circumstances in China. The urban hanok (Gaeryang hanok) appeared in the late 1920s and continued to be built into the 1960s. Essentially it was a modification of older traditional hanoks to meet modern needs. It became popular mainly because of its low cost, approximately half that of earlier models (Jung, 2013, p. 29). Segwon Jeong, the Korean entrepreneur and cultural nationalist, modified the Joongdang-style hanok for small-lot footprints and more highly packed aggregations (Lee, 2016). Away from Seoul, the Jeonju Hanok Village has many examples of both tiled- and thatchedroof hanoks dating back into the Joseon Dynasty. Jeonju is, after all, the spiritual capital of the Joseon. As illustrated here, a typical relatively compact hanok has a lot size of from 85 to 120 square meters. It sits on an urban block, bounded on all sides by walls and a fence. It is often U-shaped in plan configuration, with the building of rooms along the boundaries on three of the four lot sides, as noted earlier, and with the entry on one side adjacent to a street. It is usually one floor tall, with a highly pitched overhanging roof covered in tiles. The main or master bedroom is usually located furthest from the entry for reasons of privacy and is typically the largest room, at around ten square meters in area. The U-shaped arrangement creates a courtyard at the building’s center, or a madang (yard), often surrounded by slightly raised walkways on three sides. The madang usually occupies 20 to 30 percent of the site area, with the remainder in building. Unlike many domestic courtyards in China and Japan, the madangs are left open and unencumbered, with the idea that being empty they can hold all things. Effectively the madang is a room without a roof and allows many domestic functions to take place simultaneously. It also acts as a multi-functional space and an outside extension of interior space, at least on a temporary basis. It is also a mediating space between activities on its perimeter. Another space of interest is the daecheong, which is usually a wooden-floored hall in a strict north-south alignment between two bedrooms and acts as an intermediate space. It is also empty and can act as a mediating space

sub-gate

storage

Nongsujong pavilion

ladies’ quarter

flower terrace master’s quarter

Sonhyangjae hall

inner quarter stone pond

suinmun (ladies’ gate)

changyangmun (men’s gate)

lantern holder for light

N

0

Changnangmun (main gate)

5

10

15 m

stone basin

lotus pond

Madangs, Mauel and Hanoks

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Madangs, Mauel and Hanoks

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Anchae

Sarangchae GEONNUNBANG (DAUGHTER’S ROOM)

SARANG-BANG (MASTER ROOM)

up

KITCHEN

CHAN-BANG (PANTRY)

Gallery

up

SARANG-BANG (SON’S ROOM)

Inner Court up

ARAET-BANG (LOWER ROOM)

Jangdock dae

STORAGE

SERVANT´S ROOM

Outer Court TOILET

Storage space

MAROO AN-BANG (MISTRESS ROOM)

Daemoon 0

Madangs and Hanoks

1

3m

between an alley beside one wall of a hanok and the madang inside. This alley-daecheong-madang arrangement, among others, serves the purpose of ‘neighboring’ within a community of hanoks, much as an alley or roji environments do in Japan. In earlier times, hanoks were also gendered domains, with the sarangbang set aside for men and an area for their study, entertainment and leisure. By contrast, the anbang, or woman’s area, was usually a private inner space associated with the kitchen. Also as illustrated here, the ensemble of hanoks may be in a gridded arrangement in layout, such as at Dowan, Seoul, or in an irregular organic layout as at Bukchon in Seoul. Even in its evolved form, the hanoks have rural roots in village life like the maeuls (villages), something they have in common with Korea’s eastern neighbors of China and Japan. Several well-known villages now within Seoul illustrate this circumstance, also pointing to the close proximity to more major centers that was characteristic of the rural patterns of settlement in Korea, again as in other East Asian situations. Shanghai, for instance, was once only a somewhat larger settlement within the archipelago of hamlets, villages and towns of Shanghai Xian (county) before the rise of the Treaty Port and modern Shanghai (Kuan and Rowe, 2002). Today Seowonmaeul in the Amsa-dong area of Seoul is one of the ‘Human Town Projects’ launched in 2009 to update a farming community of some 64 households and about 3,000 people that was established in 1979 (Rowe, 2012). The daldongnae (moon villages) of modern and contemporary South Korea are informal settlements, originally primarily erected for refugees from the Korean War of 1950–53. They are typically located in marginal, often hilly land within and towards the periphery of urban areas. The term came into usage in 1980s television dramas, with the prefix ‘dal’ meaning ‘moon’ – because the top of a hill is close to the moon – and also ‘month’ as in when the monthly rent was to be paid. Many have been upgraded and/or destroyed to make way for formal residential projects (Dunbar, 2017). A dong in South Korea is the lowest level of administration to have its own staff and office. It is also a ‘neighborhood’ and came into official being under King Gojong around 1895. In the dendritic traditional alleys

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Baojia (top) and Cho (bottom)

of Bukchon and other urban areas in South Korea, one can typically locate ten to twelve hanoks and up to 100 inhabitants. Several hanok alleys constitute a lijiang under the leadership of a banjang (neighborhood head). Again, this is similar to both Japan and China with their cho and shequ, respectively (Rowe, 2000; and Rowe, Forsyth and Kan, 2016). While serving its community with respect to religious ceremony, a modicum of fire protection, local community services, local security and the like, the Japanese chokai, or community association related to a cho (neighborhood), has no official standing. Scales and population sizes among dongs and chos, however, are fairly comparable. Myeong­-dong in Seoul, for instance, has around 1100 households, whereas Miyamoto-cho in Tokyo has around 950 (Bestor, 1989). Both are also similar with regard to major streets – dori in Japan – with commercial activity bounding and transecting the cho and the dongs. Indeed, in Tokyo the inner areas of the cho are usually navigated through its lanes, or roji, also associated with ura – meaning ‘rear, inside, less formal’ – and originally derived from the path of stones leading to a tea room or teahouse (Ashihara, 1989). By contrast, the streets, or dori, are associated with omote, meaning ‘surface, front of a building, public appearance’. One upshot in Tokyo is the neighborhood, cho, wrapped as it were by streets and roads, much like the popular anko-gawa confectionary of a soft bean paste inside a hard outer shell. Similar comments could also be made about the Chinese lilong of Shanghai and hutong of Beijing as well as about the shop-house exteriors of the broad swaths of lilong lane environments. As the accompanying chart illustrates, there are commonalities at the level of the neighborhood in East Asia. For instance, this is clear along the lines of: dong, cho, and shequ; or hanok-minha, roji-dori, hutong/lilong; or machiya, hanok and siheyuan/sanheyuan; or madang, tsubo-niwa, heaven’s well. In South Korea, the main distinguishing feature occurs certainly with the manga, or open empty yard. Counterparts in Japan, for instance, are the tsubo­-niwa, or courtyard garden, and the Chinese courtyard that is also usually permanently furnished. Also mutatis mutandis, the South Korean version tends to have a ‘squarish’ form, certainly in comparison to the Japanese machiya (townhouse) that is long and narrow, as well as the Chinese siheyuan or lilong with shorter frontages than building lengths.

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Maeul

Hanok

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Hutong

Roji

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Machiya (top) and Siheyuan (bottom)

Madang of Hanok

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The idea of ‘void’, therefore, arising from this discussion would seem to be a key aspect of Korean architectural identity. It is almost without fail empty, a tabula rasa, but one also to be completed, or that can be imagined to be completed. Back with the hanok, the madang can be empty because the house is viewed as being one with nature and, therefore, the madang does not need to signify that relationship. It relates to the inner workings of the house. In his commentary on the madang-jip (courtyard house), Junggoo Cho of Guga Urban Architecture extends the term to engage atria, hallways in apartment buildings as well as decks and balconies (Cho, 2020). Primarily he does so to make transformations to meet modern living conditions. Nevertheless, the ‘mute but expectant’ quality of the madang does not disappear. The term ma in Japanese can also have a spatial connotation as a promise yet to be fulfilled. However, it seems to be more about a ‘gap’, a ‘pause’ or a correct alignment between two things. It is relational, like the gap between two notes making up the music, as Issac Stern might remark (Fletcher, 2001, p. 370). There can be, therefore, cases of ‘good ma’ and ‘bad ma’, or more or less appropriate forms of ma in different circumstances. The emptiness or ‘mute expectancy’ of the madang, however, is probably closer to the Zen enso- (circle) and its resonance, ceteris paribus, with uninhibited freedom of expression, in the case of the madang in concert with the propitious life of the house (Seo, 2007). Architecturally, especially as we saw in the work of Swoo Geun Kim at the SPACE Group headquarters, the void, or void space, was a strong pre-occupation and motif. The same could be said for the others in this narrative, namely: Chung-up Kim in the spaces and links between the buildings at the Embassy of France; Hyo-sang Seung at the Sujoldang House and the Welcomm City Headquarters; In Cheurl Kim at the Bauzium Sculpture Museum, Minsuk Cho with Boutique Monaco; and Moongyu Choi at Ssamziegil. Two other aspects of reference to traditional tropes of Korean architecture were the elemental appropriations that took place in modern times, and proclivities towards deployment of ensembles or clusters of program and building. With regard to the latter, Swoo Geun Kim had an avowed preference for the clustering of spaces, as noted in chapter four. This was also obvious in his initial scheme for the National

Some Contemporary Korean Voids

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Some Contemporary Korean Voids

Assembly complex and particularly and poetically at the Cheongju National Museum with its campus-like arrangement on its hill-side site. Kim’s contemporary, Chung-up Kim, as noted, though of a different mind in many other ways, also pursued a clustered concept in the Embassy of France with its separate yet related consulate, office and residence. Later-on, Hyo-sang Seung of the 4.3 Group in his Welcomm City project, also as noted, deliberately and rather polemically arranged separated volumes of a rough scale equivalence to Seoul’s ordinary cityscape, with voids in between. The Bauzium Sculpture Museum of his contemporary In Cheurl Kim, otherwise a virtual essay in elemental forms, is also a cluster of three pavilions. Moving on to returning contemporaries like Minsuk Cho, the Daum Space.1 headquarters complex on Jeju Island is almost by definition a cluster of functions and activities, within an overriding building system. Similarly, his Songdo Triple Street project is an ensemble of parts as well. The Ssamziegil building by Moongyu Choi clearly presents the aggregating idea of a ‘street’ lined with individual stores. Also the deliberate and symbolic manner in which the prominent stairway reaches out from the library into the Yonsei Songdo campus, along with his metaphor of ‘meeting place’, stakes a claim to an underlying idea of clustering and ensemble arrangements of buildings. Likewise with Pilsoo Maing and MMK+ at Nodeul Island, which at heart is an urban design and cluster project with many programmatic and building ingredients. Elemental appropriations, often from traditional sources, are apparent in the work of Swoo Geun Kim, with particular focus on one or more of the three-part composition of the typical traditional ‘hall typology’: the base, the middle and the top. As Inha Jung makes abundantly clear, Chung-up Kim’s appropriations, especially from roofs, are very deliberate, refined and articulate at the Embassy of France (Jung, 2013, pp. 65–66). Similarly, the roof and trabeated middle section are clear preoccupations of Swoo Geun Kim in his initial proposal for the National Assembly building and something of a homage to the modernism of Kenzo Tange. The sheer reduction and abstraction of forms by Hyo-sang Seung at Welcomm City and by In Cheurl Kim at the Bauzium Sculpture Museum befit the brief of the 4.3 Group of architects in moving away from the formal gymnastics and postur-

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ing of commercial, consumption-oriented architecture of the time. Even the Hive of In Cheurl Kim can be seen as an inevitable distillation and abstraction of an engineering concern for load-bearing walls in the face of more expressively complicated conventional curtain walls. Among the returning contemporary group of architects, Moongyu Choi at Ssamziegil and the H Music Library broadly appropriates the courtyard type, as noted; Minsuk Cho at the Daum Space.1 headquarters has to reckon with elemental programming and space zoning, as well as with structural-functional partitioning and repetition. Moreover, Pilsoo Maing and MMK+ at Nodeul Island fuse an otherwise elemental ensemble into spaces from madangs to maeuls.

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Efficient Project Delivery Several underlying cultural influences and drives converge to produce an attribute of Koreanness variously described as practical reckoning with need and timely or efficient undertaking and completion of projects, particularly of a relatively large scale and common interest. One is a strong sense of communitarian value, either by way of nationalism bound to notions of han minjok or being a part of a Korean nation, as described in the introduction, or by registering with self-identity reflected in family, special groups or cliques. Another is its corollary, a sense of won-han, or injustice, and the striving that goes with it, also described in the introduction, including a common sense of impatience manifested in ppalli-ppalli, or hurry-hurry. Finally, there is the inclination towards workability and utility, clearly manifested in and since the Joseon Dynasty by the Silhak school of Confucians and their successors dedicated to practical knowledge. This was discussed yet again in chapter two of this volume. Moreover, this combination and efficient practical reckoning with project circumstances is also reflected in physical outcomes. They are invariably straightforward, not necessarily at the cutting edge of design, nor having gone through lengthy phases of adjustment and refinement. Nevertheless, they are appropriate enough for all involved, including many small stakeholders, constituencies and groups. Often the project concerned has a broad

national resonance, of which a number of large public-works projects are examples. In this narrative, one of the most conspicuous was the Hwaseong Fortress of King Jeongjo of 1795. This massive undertaking, essentially to protect a royal graveyard and temporary palace of the King, took just two and one-half years to construct. As described in chapter two, it had a wall varying in height from 4.9 to 6.2 meters for a length close to six kilometers, four gates, some 40 defensive installations and enclosed an area of 130 hectares. It also differed from fortresses in China and Japan by combining military, political and commercial functions in what is the town of Suwon today (Wikipedia, 2020). Jeong Yakyong, the designer, was a leading Silhak Confucian scholar of the 18th century. The fortress became influential in Korea as much through the Hwaseong seongyeok uigwe (Book of Royal Protocols) as by personal reconnaissance (Jeong, 1792). The respect that he commanded and the care he took with his extensive workforce allowed King Jeongjo to put his modern stamp, as it were, on the project. Another prominent example that continued to be a conspicuous demonstration of this aspect of Koreanness was Cheonggyecheon, the tributary running through the center of Hanyang, then Keijo and finally Seoul. Originally called Gaecheon (opened waterway), it was the second tributary of the Han River, originating from the nearby Bugak and Inwang Mountains. Its watershed was 50.96 square kilometers in extent and it ran for a length of 13.75 kilometers, fully 5.84 kilometers of which were within the city wall. With a rainy season more or less from June to August, some 60 percent of the annual precipitation occurred during that time, causing significant potential flooding. Indeed, from the beginning of the Joseon Dynasty, banks of the stream overflowed while at other, more normal times the lower water volume was polluted. In 1396, at the outset of the Joseon Dynasty, King Taejo constructed the city walls in 49 days, deploying 118,070 workers mobilized from local provinces to accomplish the task. For practicality, earthen walls were built on flat terrain, whereas stone walls were built in hillside regions. However, in the middle of all this, water gates controlling the main waterway were not completed because of cold weather and, therefore, a truncated construction period. In 1407 and 1410 large floods occurred and river works had to be undertaken. The Gaegeodogam (River Works Agency)

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Cheonggyecheon, Seoul, 1760 and 1930

was established in 1412 and 52,800 soldiers were mobilized from three provinces for a period of 31 days despite winter conditions. The stream near the palaces was reinforced with stone, whereas the downstream segments were reinforced with timber and soil. Several bridges were also constructed across the stream adding protection, such as the Gwangtonggyo Bridge. The stream was also straightened by this maintenance work. Then during severe flooding in 1421 many houses and other structures were washed away and water to a depth of about half a meter washed over roads. In response to these conditions, King Sejong continued stream maintenance by conducting dredging operations and expansion of the main channel. He also had two new water gates built for flood control and replaced wooden bridges with stone ones. At the time this was a river engineering project to improve the fledgling city’s infrastructure. Also during this time, the cheugugi (water gauge) was invented in order to record the flood stages of the stream accurately (Kim and Jang, 2019). With a hiatus after the 16th century, during which there was a decline in stream maintenance though continued silting, and after the famines of the 17th century, Hanyang’s population began to rise rapidly, from around 80,000 in 1657 to as many as 200,000 inhabitants in 1669. A slum was constructed along Cheonggyecheon, and deregulated deforestation occurred in the surrounding and nearby mountains, leading to landslide, soil erosion and flooding (Kim and Jang, 2019). Amid these social and environmental problems, stream management once again became a pressing national issue. Starting in 1752, King Yeongjo spent seven years collecting public opinion and convincing people before finally deciding to initiate a large-scale dredging project. The Juncheonsa (Dredging Work Agency) was established and the Juncheonsajeolmok (Code of Dredging Work) was announced in 1759. The ensuing project lasted 57 days, from February to April 1760, with 200,000 workers recruited including 50,000 paid laborers and 150,000 citizens mobilized from five adjacent provinces. Those citizens agreeing to participate were given the option of being granted property and the right to trade along and near the stream. The accompanying image shows the King overseeing the public works. To reduce the construction period, the main waterway was subdivided into five segments from Songgigyo to Yeongdogyo

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across Ogansumun, the water gates under the capital wall. After the river works, a total of 3000 walked steps was reached (approximately 4.2 kilometers) with an upstream width of 20 walked steps, approximately 28 meters, and a downstream width at Yeongdogyo of 52 walked steps, or approximately 73 meters. Further channel expansions occurred in 1870 and 1921 to prevent floods, with further dredging work being carried out by King Sunjo in 1833 and King Gojong in 1873 (Kim and Jang, 2019). With dredging also came stone embankments, bridges and the planting of willow trees with their dense root systems to prevent bank erosion. Clearly, a serious concern for Cheonggyecheon and the protection of people from flooding, and ensuring life safety was a consistent feature throughout the Joseon Dynasty. Later on, the stream right-of-way underwent covering in upstream segments by the Japanese in 1937. Still later this covering was extended downstream and in 1969, during the era of major modern infrastructure building of Chung-hee Park and Hyun-ok Kim, the Mayor of Seoul, an elevated expressway was constructed. Then, as mentioned earlier, a public safety issue materialized in 1993, which led to calls for closure of the expressway. During the run-up to mayoral election in 2002 the fate of the highway and Cheonggyecheon was hotly debated, leading to the election of Myung-bak Lee and to restoration of the stream and demolition of the expressway and roadway beneath it. Once again the project was efficiently conceived and executed. Taking only 27 months between 2003 and 2005, 6.2 kilometers of the stream were reclaimed and restored, with only an eight percent overrun of the original budget (Rowe, 2010). Again, the emergence of a can-do attitude and the value of efficient practical reckoning with need were on display. In fact, there were at least four factors that lay behind the project’s success. At first the project appeared to be a very difficult undertaking but it was completed comfortably. Indeed, this sense of ‘spare capacity’, particularly when paired with a tendency towards crisis mentality, calibrates potential outcomes towards worst cases, which did not happen with Cheonggyecheon. Second, at least three of the aspects the project addressed, at least to some degree, were historic conservation, environmental improvement and economic revitalization. Moreover, these coincided generally with public aspirations.

Cheonggyecheon, Seoul, 1971

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Cheonggyecheon, Seoul, 2005

Third, the sheer physical transformation that was wrought in the center of Seoul was palpable and sufficiently able to be understood and appreciated by different though broad segments of the general public. In its hybrid character, its inclusion of an eclectic array of elements, some quite whimsical, and with the sorting out of most technical issues, there was essentially something there for everyone, even if sometimes as a first approximation. Finally, engagement with the project, its governance, the breaking of new ground in community participation, and so on, did work, again making it an exemplar for South Korean public works projects (Rowe, 2010, pp. 210–219). In a way, the niceties of design and of physical outcomes from any particular perspective, as in the past, were overwhelmed by the sheer impressiveness of efficient project delivery and accomplishment – a distinctive part of a sense of ‘Koreanness’.

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SelfReference

Another aspect of ‘Koreanness’ manifests itself in the extent, scope and cultural boundaries of its references and particularly self-references in the development of modern architecture. One conspicuous avenue, as elsewhere in the world, is the idea of architectural lineage in the sense of common educational backgrounds, shared working experiences, common orientations and even proclivities among practitioners. In these regards, the lineage of the Late Joseon Dynasty period was unquestionably Confucian, even Neo-Confucian, and in the work of someone like Jeong Yakyong, Silhak in direction, immersed in ideas of practical knowledge, much like the Self-Strengtheners in China. Heungseon-Daewongun, while at least a sometime modernizer towards the end of the same period, as a political figure was similarly inclined towards the revival of tradition. Moving forward into the Japanese Colonial Period, architects like Gilryong Park, though locally educated, were very much in the train of Japanese ways of thinking and practicing, through working on large colonial projects like the General Government Building or via Japanese-founded institutions like Jodai, an out-growth of the Imperial College system in Japan. Major architects of the subsequent authoritarian era of Chung-hee Park and others were

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again educated abroad, but in Japan and via lineage connections with orthodox modernists overseas, as in the case of In Cheurl Kim and Le Corbusier, for instance, or indirectly but still with strong modernist ties through Japan and the likes of Maekawa and Tange. This is especially evident with Swoo Geun Kim who attended Todai. The 4.3 Group, by and large, were locally educated and reactive to what they saw around them. The influence of Swoo Geun Kim and the SPACE Group can be seen, however, in the stance and work of Hyo-sang Seung, an employee there from 1974 to 1989. Among the returning contemporary architects, all were locally educated but attended graduate school overseas in places like Columbia University and Harvard. Some, like Pilsoo Maing, also shared lineage again with the SPACE Group. The strong introduction of well-known architects – the ‘foreign legion’ mentioned in the last chapter – took place intensively roughly between 2000 and 2010. It certainly had an impact and influenced the work of local architects and even those still abroad. In sum, though, architecture in Korea has been largely a local affair but with strong ties and influence from Japan and now with a virtual diaspora and return of architects from the West. However, this last trend more or less peaked in 2011, falling to around five percent of all college-level students by 2015 due largely to domestic improvement in education (Kahug, 2015). As noted at least several times in this narrative, Korea is often considered in its past to be a ‘Sinic tributary’, especially under the Joseon Dynasty (Eckert, Lee and Lew, et al., 1990, p. 57; and Cumings, 1999, pp. 19–56). Indeed, also as noted, at times Korean Neo-Confucianism seemed to have been in advance of that in China. Moreover, in the early days with regard to neighboring Japan there was a certain sense of cultural superiority. According to an anthropologist like Edward T. Hall, Korea possesses a ‘high content culture’ by using high degrees of symbolism and indirect or implied communication from broadly and easily shared references to historic events, traditional mores and common beliefs. In addition, like other so-called East Asian nations it was and remains a strongly past-oriented culture (Hall, 1966). This trait also falls in line with Ricœur’s and Heidegger’s admonishments that one needs to go back to one’s own culture and origins in order to participate effectively in cultural debate (Ricœur, 1965, pp. 271–284).

Self-reference in this context of Sinic influence and a profoundly East Asian orientation is also self-reinforcing, if nothing else, and limiting to desires to move further afield. After all, the Joseon Dynasty was also sometimes referred to as the ‘Hermit Kingdom’ (Eckert, Lee and Lew et al., 1990, p. 194). Even today in the music world, trot, known for its repetitive rhythm, has made a comeback in noraebang (singing rooms) and other larger venues. Originating in Korea during the Japanese occupation, it is a throwback to older times and strongly self-referential though also infused with other music genres. (Asia, 2020, pp. 35–36). Nevertheless, through the time of this narrative from the Late Joseon Dynasty to the present day, cycles of referencing in architecture have not been static, defining and re-defining the significance of ‘Koreanness’ as they have changed. Beginning in the Late Joseon Dynasty, architecture was rooted in the styles and practices of adjoining China. As described in chapter two, Gyeongbokgung, though moribund for years, when restored certainly incorporated many of the classical tropes of Chinese architecture, including axial alignments, self-similarities among halls and accommodations of various sizes and ranks, walled enclosures, dominant southern orientations and so on. The Hwaseong Fortress, though probably technically and militarily superior and more functionally diversified than comparable structures in both China and Japan, was also of the same ilk. Moving into the Japanese Colonial Period, from about 1910 to 1945, the architectural influence of Japan was more or less absolute, with some lingering Chinese influence in the ‘compradoric’ forms of commercial buildings and the emulation of churches, an almost wholly imported institution from the West. The architectural hegemony of Japan during the Park era continued, though, as in Japan, in a more or less entirely orthodox modern way. The 4.3 Group of architects almost by definition were reacting to the local cityscape with a trend away from dominant corporate and consumerist construction and with a greater appreciation of Korean tradition. This was often sublimated, however, into an otherwise modernist scheme, as described earlier in this chapter, through the deployment of traditional architectural tropes. Finally, the returning contemporary architects clearly key off the work of the 4.3 Group, again in a self-referential manner, although also with a broadening and more global outlook.

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Yet another referential aspect of ‘Koreanness’ can be seen by the manner in which tropes of the architectural past have been incorporated and consumed in modern production. As one observer put it, the term “tradition, so named, became accessible through a variety of modern forms that enable their contemporary consumption” (Kendall, 2011, p. 7). In this manner, the incorporation of hanok, madang and maeul, all traditional tropes, are on display in much of the South Korean modern architecture from the end of the authoritarian era and even within it, particularly in some projects by Swoo Geun Kim at the SPACE Group. In prior times, Korea certainly experienced early modernity as colonial modernity, as already noted, and the colonial cityscape was aimed at creating desirous colonial subjects. Contemporary use of local precursors can also be observed in, for instance, the recent Lotte Mall complex alongside of the glamor of the Mitsukoshi Department Store of 1930 (Tangherlini, 2011, p. 39). Instances of double mimicry also crop up during the Colonial Period, especially as Japan began to exert itself internationally, such as the Honmachi District evoking Tokyo’s Ginza, which in itself was a copy of Western commercial spectacle (Oh, 2008). In this context, it is apt to go back again to the MacCannell quote: “The best indication of the final victory of modernity over other socio-cultural arrangements is not the disappearance of the non-modern world but its artificial preservation and reconstruction in modern society (MacCannell, 1991, p. 7).

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Consolidating Identity

Although it is perhaps too soon to discern definitively, South Korea of late appears to be undergoing profound socio-economic change, a loosening of norms and challenges to past patterns and practices (The Economist, 2020). Furthermore, the urban realm and architecture will likely not be immune to the influences of these changes, potentially taking up with different, if not new, spatial opportunities, yet also potentially consolidating a collective sense of Korean identity. The economy has good fundamentals and fiscal space for stimuli in a more transparent political climate. The chaebol-based growth model appears to be broken, though hardly out of play. Start-up companies are beginning to become more prominent, although their market share is still tiny. According to one report, the number of start-ups in 2015 was only 80 and yet is now 700 in number, with at least ten so-called unicorns having reached $1 billion in private and/or public investment. The idea of a ‘creative economy’, floated as early as 2013, has been catching on, although productivity needs to improve (The Economist, 2020). Culturally, as noted in chapter six, there is a flourishing art and media scene, recently epitomized by Joon-ho Bong’s receipt of an Academy Award for Parasite as best picture. In fact, the art and media scene along with pop-culture is the most visible new model of

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economic development, taking up some of the slack as the economy based on older exports is slowing. Socially, the household size is declining, as is the birth rate, and yet a wide gender gap persists. The marriage rate, for instance, is low, declining from 68 percent among eligible women in 1978 to 48 percent today. This reflects women not married rising from 30 percent in 1995 to 77 percent for those 25 to 29 years of age, and from seven percent to 38 percent for those 30 to 34 years of age. Only two percent of babies are born out of wedlock, driving the birth rate well below replacement rate. In addition, the South Korean population is aging fast; in fact, it is one of the most rapidly aging in the developed world. With seniors aged 65 years and over comprising over 14 percent of the population, South Korea is an ‘aged society’. It reached that state quicker than many other nations. For example, it took Japan 24 years to shift from an ‘aging society’ to an ‘aged society’, with Germany taking fully 40 years, compared to just 17 years for South Korea (Steger, 2017). One upshot of these changes is both a ‘loosening-up’ of society and a rise in ‘anomie’ involving individual expectations rather than strong guidance from society (“Loosening Up”, The Economist, 2020). In the built environment, these changes and the rise of ‘anomie’ are beginning to have and will continue to have several marked outcomes. Diversity in use and building, for instance, has risen and seems likely to rise in several quarters. A finer grain of mixing of uses and activities also seems likely to continue, along with decentralization of various concentrations of activity. Fragmentation of scales may also rise away from more conventional larger and one-size-fits-all arrangements. In addition, slow and declining urban growth, particularly in a place like Seoul, where most people live, will likely push an emphasis in projects toward re-use and accommodation to existing structures and infill, especially with only moderate economic growth. Already these trends can be seen in housing, for example, where the older apatu blocks of the earlier boom years are coming under pressure to downsize units, incorporate more and better community functions and upscale outdoor amenity. The role of subway stations in many now better-served neighborhoods is also changing from one strictly aligned with hometo-work commuting to one offering a nearby and adjacent plethora

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of commercial services, restaurants and other leisure-time activities, functions that require improved indoor quality (Han and Chun, 2016). One consequence in several busy locales is development-oriented transit, where complicated mixed-use and architectural ensembles arise in conjunction with the subway stations themselves. The continued rise of bang culture as a ‘room away from home’ and the trend towards smaller-sized establishments as more conspicuous infill within conventional commercial areas also seem likely to continue, serving the needs of especially younger as well as older users. It is difficult to definitively ascribe a particular architectural style to this rising diversity, mixing and scalar fragmentation. However, the need for mediating spaces, clustering of accommodations as well as interactions of solids and voids seems like an inevitable accompaniment and opportunity for the consolidation of a Korean architectural identity.

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Biographical Notes The following are biographical descriptions of architects featured in the text along with several prominent political and cultural figures.

Junggoo Cho (1966–) Born in 1966, Junggoo Cho earned a Master’s degree in Architecture from Seoul National University, subsequently becoming a doctoral candidate at Tokyo University. He started his firm Guga Urban Architecture in 2000. Cho has been continuously doing field investigations of the city as well as architectural projects, focusing on “ordinary architecture related to our life”. For his architectural designs he has been awarded many times over the years: Korea Young Architects Award in 2004, Korea Wood Design Awards 1st prize in 2007, Seoul Metropolitan Government Architecture Award in 2008, Korean Institute of Architects Award Winner in 2008. Minsuk Cho (1966–) Minsuk Cho is an architect originating from Seoul where he graduated from the Architectural Engineering Department of Yonsei University. He continued his studies at the Graduate School of Architecture at Columbia University in New York City. Cho began his professional career working for Kolatan/Mac Donald Studio and Polshek Partnership in New York, and later moved to the Netherlands to work for OMA. Through these jobs, he gained experience in a wide range of architectural and urban projects implemented in various locations. With partner James Slade, he established Cho Slade Architecture in 1998 in New York City, to be engaged in various projects both in the U.S. and Korea. In 2003, he returned to Korea to open his own firm, Mass Studies. His project Boutique Monaco was named a finalist for the International Highrise Award (DAM) in 2008 and Cho was nominated for the same award again in 2010 for the S-Trenue tower. His Korea Pavilion was awarded the Silver Medal by the Bureau International d’Expositions (B.I.E.) in the category of Architectural Design for the World Expo 2010 in Shanghai, as well as a Presidential Citation from Korea. In 2014, Minsuk Cho received a Golden Lion Award at La Biennale di Venezia for Best National Participation. Moongyu Choi (1961–) The architect Moongyu Choi received his training in both South Korea and the U.S., obtaining a Bachelor of Architecture and a Master of Engineering from Yonsei University, as well as a Master of Architecture from

Columbia University. Having worked for Toyo Ito Architects, Hanul Architects & Engineers and Group See, Choi founded Ga.A Architects in 1999. Currently he is a professor of architectural engineering at Yonsei University. He has been invited to the 11th and 9th Venice Biennales, the 7th São Paulo International Biennial of Architecture, and the Shenzhen and Hong Kong Bi-City Biennale of Urbanism and Architecture. Choi has been awarded the 50th Progressive Architecture Award USA, AIA-NY Award USA, Architectural Record’s Design Vanguard, Korean Institute of Architects Special Award, Korean Institute of Registered Architects Award. Major works include Hansook Cheong Memorial, Ssamziegil, SSU Student Union, Yonsei International Campus Veritas Hall, and H Music Library. Doo-hwan Chun (1931–) Doo-hwan Chun was an army general turned politician and was elected to a seven-year term as President of the Republic of Korea in 1981. During the Korean War years, Chun spent his days as a cadet at the Korean Military Academy. He was promoted to major general, and in 1978 he was appointed as commander of the Republic of Korea First Division. In May 1980, then-lieutenant general Chun led the second coup establishing a military government to replace that of Kyu-hah Choi. Meanwhile, the military under Chun’s leadership dropped all pretense of civilian rule, declared martial law and brutally suppressed democratic civilian opposition in the city of Gwangju. As President, Chun devoted his efforts to maintaining economic growth and political stability. South Korea continued its export-led economic growth under Chun, and the nation industrialized rapidly. King Gojong (1852–1919) King Gojong was the last king of the five-century-long Joseon Dynasty. During the latter part of his reign, he declared the Korean Empire, becoming its first emperor. Gojong took the throne in 1863 at the age of eleven. As a minor, his father, Heungseon-Daewongun, ruled as regent for him until Gojong reached adulthood. In 1873, Gojong announced his assumption of direct royal rule. In November 1874, with the retirement of Heungseon-Daewongun, Gojong’s consort, Queen Min, gained complete control over the court and emerged as the real power behind the throne. In contrast to Daewongun,

King Gojong and Queen Min began to open the doors of the country to foreign presences, in particular Russia. However, in 1895, Queen Min was assassinated by Japanese agents. In addition, by 1895 Japan had won the First Sino-Japanese War, gaining much more influence over the Korean government. By proclaiming Korea an empire in 1897, Gojong intended to place Korea on a par with China and strengthen the country against Japanese aggression. In 1907, Emperor Gojong was forced to abdicate by the Japanese and Gojong’s son Sunjong succeeded to the throne. After abdicating, Gojong was confined to the Deoksugung where he died suddenly in 1919 at the age of 66. His death and subsequent funeral proved a catalyst for the March First Movement for Korean independence from Japanese rule. Heungseon-Daewongun (1820–1898) Heungseon-Daewongun was a royal family member and a politician of the Joseon Dynasty. He ruled as regent of Joseon from 1864 to 1873 while his son, the future King Gojong, came of age. In 1864, after King C ­ heoljong died without leaving a male heir, the future King Gojong was chosen to ascend to the throne, but he was only eleven years old at the time. Thus, his father was declared Regent Heungseon-Daewongun and granted the power to rule in his son’s stead. Heungseon-Daewongun exerted a strong influence on every aspect of Joseon society, from politics to diplomacy to religion and art. He is also remembered for the wide-ranging reforms he attempted during his regency, as well as for his vigorous enforcement of the seclusion policy and the persecution of Christians. Heungseon-Daewongun set into motion the restoration of Gyeongbokgung in an effort to return Joseon to its former glory. He worked in great earnest to maintain Joseon’s integrity by isolating the country from unnecessary contact with outside elements. Lady Hyegyeong (1735–1815) Lady Hyegyeong, also known as Queen Heongyeong, was the wife of Crown Prince Sado and mother of Yi San, who became King Jeongjo during the Joseon Dynasty. From the moment she was chosen to marry Sado – at which time both were eleven years old – Lady Hyegyeong lived amid endless factional struggles and political turmoil until her death at the age of 81. She witnessed her husband’s execution, which was ordered by her father-in-law, King Yeongjo of Joseon. She later wrote The Memoirs of Lady Hyegyeong, detailing her life as the ill-fated Crown Princess, her husband’s descent into madness and the deeds for which he was eventually put to death. King Jeongjo (1752–1800) King Jeongjo was the 22nd King of the Joseon Dynasty, being the son of Crown Prince Sado and Lady Hyegyeong. He was preceded by his grandfather, King Yeongjo, and succeeded by his son, King Sunjo. In 1762, his father, Crown Prince Sado, was executed by King Yeongjo. Sado

was never properly buried, and Jeongjo was prohibited by his grandfather, King Yeongjo, from visiting Sado’s burial site. It was twelve years after Sado’s death when Jeongjo was finally able to visit his ill-fated father’s grave. Known for his filial piety, Jeongjo moved Sado’s burial place to a carefully chosen spot in Suwon. He also built a city near the burial site and Hwaseong Fortress to guard the tomb, which is now a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Jeongjo recruited many scholars who pursued pragmatic measures, such as Jeong Yakyong, and established Gyujanggak, a royal library, to support his reform policies as soon as he won royal control. He also tried to solve a wide range of social issues, such as unequal land ownership and the unjust tax systems. Jeongjo is often referred to as one of the most successful and visionary rulers of the Joseon Dynasty, ushering it into a Golden Age. Segwon Jeong (1888–1965) Segwon Jeong was a developer and entrepreneur during the Late Joseon Dynasty. He was born in Goseong-gun, in Gyeongsangnam-do, Korea. He moved to Seoul in 1919 and founded his firm, Geonyangsa, in 1920, which played a crucial role in transforming Seoul’s Bukchon area into a cluster of modern hanoks, Korean traditional houses. Jeong was part of the cultural nationalist movement that began in the 1920s. Jeong’s Korean style first developed in Ikseon-dong, an area south of Bukchon that had become a hanok village. In 1930, he bought a large plot of empty land where royal family members once lived. He divided the land into smaller lots and put alleys in between them for access. Urban hanoks, of varying shapes and sizes, were constructed and then sold. Jeong later applied the lessons of creating Korean-­ style houses to the Gahoe-dong neighborhood. He died in Seoul in 1965. Jeong Yakyong (1762–1836) Jeong Yakyong, also known as Dasan, was a scholar, philosopher, writer and scientist during the Joseon Dynasty. He was one of the greatest thinkers of the later Joseon period, who constantly pondered how to improve his country and the lives of its people, even during times of personal trouble. He was a follower of Silhak and also belonged to the mainstream Seongho School, founded by Yi Ik. As one of the Silhak reformers, he proposed a ‘village land system’, in which the village would hold its land in common and farm the land as a whole, rather than land ownership by the (central) state. Jeong also wrote highly influential books about philosophy, science and theories of government, held significant administrative positions, and became a trusted advisor of King Jeongjo. Jeong Yakyong was also interested in civil engineering, and in 1792, he was chosen by the king to design Hwaseong Fortress in Suwon. During the construction of the fortress, Jeong invented geojunggi, which is a type of pulley used for lifting heavy stones, greatly reducing construction time. In 1800, he was exiled to Gangjin for helping to spread Catholicism, but even in exile he

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continued his research and wrote treatises such as Mongminsimseo (Admonitions on Governing the People). In keeping with the Silhak philosophy, Jeong asked in this work how Confucianism could be applied to solve the problems of poverty. He concluded that the government should play a major role in improving the lives of the poor. He died in 1836 in his hometown. Sung-Yong Joh (1944–) Sung-Yong Joh is a South Korean architect born in Tokyo. He studied at Inha University in Incheon, South Korea, and later became one of the core members of the 4.3 Group. He founded his practice U-ONE Architects in 1975. In 1995, he established Joh Sung-Yong ­Architect Associates and the Seoul School of Architecture where he served as the first president. Joh has played a leading role in the articulation of Korean architectural discourse since the 1990s. He won the first prize at the International Design Competition for the Athletes’ Village of the Seoul Asian Games. Joh’s major works include the Uijae Museum, Seonyudo Park, the Seoul Olympic Museum, and KKummaru. Joh also has been invited to a number of exhibitions such as “Notions of Madang” at Gallery MA in Tokyo in 1989, “Metropolis in Transition” in Tokyo in 1991 and the “4.3 Group Exhibition” at Ingong Gallery in Seoul. Chanjoong Kim (1969–) The architect Chanjoong Kim received his education in South Korea and abroad. He graduated from Korea University with a Bachelor’s degree in Architectural Engineering and studied at the Swiss Federal Institute of Technology in Zurich (ETH). In 2000, he received his Master of Architecture degree from Harvard University. After working as a senior architect at the Hanwool Architecture Company, Chan Krieger Associates and KSWA, he founded THE_SYSTEM LAB in Seoul with his partner, Taek Hong. In addition to being Design Principal of THE_SYSTEM LAB, Kim is currently a visiting professor at the Architecture Department of Kyung Hee University in Seoul. In 2006, Kim was invited to the Venice Biennale as the architect representing South Korea. In the same year, he was chosen as one of six young Asian emerging architects at the 2nd Beijing International Architecture Biennale. His major projects include the Paul Smith Flagship Store, the KHVatec corporation headquarters, the Hannam-dong HANDS corporation headquarters, the Design Strategy and Research Center of the Korea Institute of Design Promotion and the Hyundai Museum of Kids’ Books and Art. Chung-up Kim (1922–1988) Chung-up Kim was born in Pyongyang, North Korea. He graduated from Pyongyang high school and entered the Yokohama Higher School of Technology, now Yokohama National University, where he received an architecture education in the Ecole des Beaux-Arts style. After graduation, Kim worked at the Matsuda & Hirata Design office in Tokyo. In 1948 he returned to Korea and took

a position as an assistant professor of architecture in the Department of Engineering at Seoul National University. In 1952 he had the opportunity to travel to Venice, where he met Le Corbusier and went on to work in Le Corbusier’s atelier in Paris for more than three years, from 1952 to 1955. On his return to Korea, he launched the Kim Chung-up Architecture Research Institute in Seoul and went on to design a wide range of projects including the Administration Building of Busan National University and the French Embassy in Seoul. After publicly criticizing the government over the Gwangju Grand Housing Complex Incident in 1971, Kim was forced to leave for Paris without his family. Just before his involuntary exile, Kim completed the Samilro Building, the tallest building in Seoul at the time, which has become his most renowned project. His final work, the World Peace Gate, commemorative of the 1988 Seoul Olympics, remained unfinished and was completed after his death in 1988. Dae-jung Kim (1924–2009) The politician Dae-jung Kim served as President of the Republic of Korea from 1998 to 2003. He became the first opposition leader to win the presidential election, ending 50 years of conservative rule. Kim received the Nobel Prize for Peace in 2000 for his efforts to restore democracy in South Korea and to improve relations with North Korea through the so-called Sunshine ­Policy. Kim was born in 1924 in Jeollanam-do, South Korea. An ardent pro-democracy activist since the 1950s, he became a prominent opposition leader during the tenure of Chung-hee Park. In 1971, a year after becoming president of the National Democratic Party, he ran against the all-powerful President Park, losing despite winning more than 40 percent of the vote. Soon after Chung-hee Park was assassinated in 1979, Kim had his civil and political rights restored. He ran again and was defeated in presidential elections in 1987 and 1992. In 1997, he was finally elected to the presidency. Taking over the government in the midst of an unprecedented financial crisis, Kim devoted himself to the task of economic recovery and managed to pull the country back from the brink of bankruptcy. Kim’s vision for the Korean people also led him to pursue a policy of engagement toward North Korea. He died in 2009. In Cheurl Kim (1947–) The architect In Cheurl Kim was educated at Hongik and Kookmin Universities, graduating from the latter institution with a Master’s degree in Architecture. He started his professional career in the studio of Deok-mun Eom, where he worked from 1971 to 1985. In 1986, Kim launched his own firm called Inje Architects, renaming it Archium in 1995. Kim was a member of the 4.3 Group founded in 1990. Kim believes that architecture is not a matter of addition but a process that removes unnecessary clutter. His philosophy is well reflected in several of his works, including the Kim Ok-Gil Memorial Hall of 1998, ThinkBig Woongjin Office of 2007, Urban Hive

of 2008 and Bauzium of 2015. Kim has exerted a strong influence on architectural education to which his seminal publication Shall We Talk about Architecture (2002) testifies. He joined the faculty of the Seoul School of Architecture and taught at Konkuk and Hongik Universities. Currently he is a professor emeritus at Chung-Ang University. From 2008 to 2010, Kim served as a member of the Presidential Commission on Architecture Policy and he currently works as the City Architect of the Busan Metropolitan Government. Jong-soo Kim (1919–1985) A native of Pyongyang, North Korea, Jong-soo Kim moved to Seoul to study architecture at Gyeongseong Engineering College. Upon graduation, he worked in the buildings and repairs department of the General Government of Joseon, when Korea was under Japanese rule. In 1953, he established the Jonghap Architecture Institute, Korea’s first large-scale architectural firm. During the post-war period, the firm contributed significantly to the introduction of Western construction technologies in Korea. His major projects include the Gukje Cinema of 1957, Saint Mary’s Hospital in Seoul of 1959, Jongno YMCA of 1960, and Jangchung Gymnasium also of 1960. In 1957, he served as a visiting professor at the University of Minnesota. He also taught at Seoul National University and Yonsei University. Swoo Geun Kim (1931–1986) Swoo Geun Kim was born in Cheongjin, North Korea, and is generally recognized as one of the most important cultural figures of 20 th-century Korea due to his architectural contributions and his support of Korean art, crafts, architecture, music, performance art as well as education in these fields. During the Korean War, Kim, then a student at the College of Engineering at Seoul National University, fled to Japan where he continued to pursue his studies in architecture. In 1958, he graduated from Tokyo University of the Arts with a B.A. in Architecture, soon followed by an M.A. in Architecture from the University of Tokyo. After returning to Korea in 1960, Kim established his own architectural practice in Seoul, the SPACE Group. The architect’s return coincided with the nation’s intense period of industrialization and the beginnings of modern Korean architecture. Kim developed his original concept of architecture that synthesized the changing conditions of post-war Korea with the widely forgotten Korean cultural history and primordial spirit. The Korean-style density of spaces, the special organic unity between the whole and its intricate elements, became an important principle in Kim’s design methodology. During his last phase, Kim planned and designed a number of civic and cultural centers, intended to be the heart of the respective communities in Seoul and abroad, including the Olympic Stadium of 1977, the Art Center of Korean Culture and Art Foundation (Munye Center), and the Kyung Dong Church of 1980. Kim died in Seoul in 1986, a victim of cancer at the age of 55.

Young Joon Kim (1960–) Young Joon Kim was trained as an architect at Seoul National University and the Architectural Association School of Architecture in London. After beginning his career at the SPACE Group, Kim moved on to working at IROJE in Seoul and OMA in Rotterdam. After his return to Seoul in 1998, he founded his firm, YO2 architects, which focuses on realizing new architectural solution based on the complexity of contemporary living in Seoul. Among his works are the award-winning Jahajae Residence, Heryoojae Women’s Hospital and the New Multi-Functional Administrative City. He has taught at Korea National University of Arts, the European University of Madrid and the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. He was also one of the architectural coordinators of Paju Book City. From 2016 to 2018, Kim served as the second City Architect of the Seoul Metropolitan Government. Young-sam Kim (1927–2015) Young-sam Kim was a politician who served as President of the Republic of Korea from 1993 to 1998. Born in Koje Island off the South Coast in 1927, Kim graduated from Seoul National University in 1952 and was first elected to the National Assembly in 1954, soon becoming a leading critic, together with Dae-jung Kim, of the military governments. In 1980, soon after Chung-hee Park’s assassination, Kim was banned from political activity for eight years by then-President Doo-hwan Chun; Kim’s political party was also banned. In 1990 Young-sam Kim unexpectedly merged his Reunification Democratic Party with the ruling Democratic Justice Party, forming the center-right Democratic Liberal Party (DLP), which was to dominate Korean politics for most of the 1990s. As the candidate of the DLP, Kim won the presidency in the 1992 election, defeating Dae-jung Kim. One of the first acts of the Young-sam Kim government was to start an anti-corruption campaign. He launched reforms designed to eliminate political corruption and abuses of power, even arresting his two predecessors, Chun and Roh. In the last year of his five-year term, Kim was criticized for failing to prevent the economic crisis of 1997 by overhauling the country’s powerful family-run conglomerates. He was succeeded as President by ­Dae-jung Kim in 1998. Jong Soung Kimm (1935–) Jong Soung Kimm, a native of Seoul, received his architectural education at Seoul National University, from which he graduated in 1954. He obtained his Master’s degree from the Illinois Institute of Technology (IIT) in Chicago. After the completion of his studies, Kimm worked in the office of Mies van der Rohe until 1972, participating in numerous projects including the Brown Pavilion of the Museum of Fine Arts in Houston and the Toronto-Dominion Centre. Kimm also taught design studios at IIT from 1968 to 1972 and served as an interim dean during his last year at IIT’s College of Architecture, Planning and Design. In 1978, Kimm returned to Seoul and founded the architectural firm SAC International.

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Kimm’s major projects encompass a wide range of building types, including the internationally recognized Weightlifting Gymnasium for the 1988 Seoul Olympics, the Sonje Museum of Contemporary Art in Gyeongju, the Energy Systems Research Center and the University Hospital for Ajou University in Suwon, the Hotel Hilton International in Seoul, and the recently completed headquarters building for the SK Corporation in Seoul. Kimm currently serves on the Board of Overseers of the College of Architecture at the Illinois Institute of Technology. Myung-bak Lee (1941–) Myung-bak Lee was a politician and businessman who served as President of the Republic of Korea from 2008 to 2013. He previously served as Mayor of Seoul from 2002 to 2006. Lee was born in Japan in 1941 and returned to Korea in 1946, where he grew up in poor circumstances in Pohang on the Southeastern Coast. In 1961, Lee graduated from Korea University and soon after joined Hyundai Construction company in 1965. He began his career as a politician in 1992, winning election to the National Assembly as a member of the conservative Democratic Liberal Party. In 2002, he ran successfully for Mayor of Seoul. Lee’s most noteworthy projects during his reign at the helm of the city administration include the restoration of Cheonggyecheon, the opening of Seoul ­F orest Park and the extension of the city’s public transportation network system. Upon completion of his term as Mayor in 2006, Lee successfully campaigned for the presidency of South Korea, winning the election by a landslide in 2007. Under Lee, South Korea increased its influence in the global scene, resulting in the hosting of the 2010 G-20 Seoul Summit. He ended his five-year term in 2013 and was succeeded by Geun-hye Park. In 2018, Lee was convicted of bribery, embezzlement and abuse of power and sentenced to 15 years in prison, a sentence that was confirmed by the Supreme Court in 2020.

Pilsoo Maing (1979–) The architect Pilsoo Maing is a co-founder of the award-winning firm MMK+, based in Seoul. He is also a registered architect in New York. Originating from Busan, Korea’s second-largest city, Maing obtained a Bachelor of Science in Architecture and a Master of Architecture from Seoul National University. After several years of practice as an architect with the SPACE Group in Seoul, he continued his studies in architecture and urbanism at the Harvard University Graduate School of Design, where he obtained a Master of Architecture in Urban Design. Before co-founding MMK+, he worked for Perkins Eastman in New York. He currently teaches as an assistant professor at the School of Architecture at Hongik University in Seoul. MMK+’s major works include Nodeul Island and the Hangang Bridge Sky Walkway in Seoul.

Queen Min (Empress Myeongseong) (1851–1895) Queen Min, also known as Empress Myeongseong, was the wife of King Gojong, who was the 26th King of the Joseon Dynasty. Heungseon-Daewongun, Gojong’s father, who ruled as long as his son was a minor, sought to eliminate the power base that was built on nepotism surrounding the throne, and Lady Min’s selection as a Queen at the age of 16 took place within this context. Queen Min became intensely involved in government affairs after her husband took power in 1873. She began by appointing members of the Min clan to a number of high court offices. The Queen advocated stronger ties between Korea and Russia in an attempt to block Japanese influence in Korea. In 1895, Japanese agents infiltrated the royal palace complex and assassinated the Queen, under orders from Japanese lieutenant general Miura Goro. The assassination of the Queen ignited outrage among other foreign powers, generating an intense backlash against the Japanese presence in Korea. In 1897, Gojong ordered a careful search of the woods where the Queen’s body had been burned, which turned up a single finger bone. He subsequently organized an elaborate funeral for this relic of his wife. The Queen consort also received the posthumous title of Empress Myeongseong. Hyun-sik Min (1946–) Hyun-sik Min is an architect with degrees from Seoul National University and the Architectural Association School of Architecture in London. After his undergraduate studies in Korea, he worked for the SPACE Group under Swoo Geun Kim and for the Wondoshi Architects Group, where he served as a partner from 1980. In 1992, he established his own practice, Kiohun Architects and Associates. He is also one of the founding members of the School of Visual Arts at Korea National University of Arts. Min participated in the collaborative exhibition of the 4.3 Group, formed by young Korean architects in 1990 with the goal of discovering new possibilities for Korean architecture. His notable works include the Ilsan Spinning Office Building, Seoul, the National Conservatory of Korean Classical Music and the SindoRicoh Headquarters in Asan. He was also one of the architectural coordinators of Paju Book City. Min’s work has been exhibited at the Venice Biennales of 1996 and 2002. He was a guest lecturer at the University of Seoul and Seoul National University and taught for many years at the Korea National University of Arts. Jae-in Moon (1953–) Jae-in Moon is a politician and human rights lawyer serving as President of the Republic of Korea since 2017. He was born in Koje Island in 1953 and spent his childhood in Busan. After studying law at Kyung Hee University in Seoul, he became involved in human rights activism and was imprisoned and expelled from the university for organizing a student protest against the Chunghee Park administration and the Yushin Constitution.

After completing his law degree and becoming a lawyer, he worked under future President Moo-hyun Roh in the 1980s. When Moo-hyun Roh became President in 2003, Moon served in Roh’s administration in various official capacities. In 2012, Moon ran for President himself as the candidate of the Democratic United Party, losing to Geun-hye Park. Following the impeachment and removal of Park, Moon was elected President in 2017. Chung-hee Park (1917–1979) Chung-hee Park was a politician, revolutionary leader and army general. He served as President of the Republic of Korea from 1963 to 1979, leading the country through a period of rapid economic development. Park left a highly controversial legacy due to the authoritarian manner in which he governed. Born in Gumi in the South when Korea was under Japanese colonial rule, he worked as an elementary school teacher before deciding to attend the Japanese Military Academy in Changchun, then the capital of the Japanese puppet state Manchuko in Northern China. After Japan’s surrender at the end of World War II, Park returned to South Korea and embarked on a career in the South Korean Army in the midst of the Korean War. By the time the war ended, Park had been appointed a brigadier general. In the early 1960s, Park conspired with other military officers to form a junta and began planning a coup. Park’s Military Revolutionary Committee seized power on 16 May 1961 and the Third Republic of Korea was born in 1963, with Park inaugurated as President. Despite Park’s achievements, which had brought economic maturity, by the late 1970s South Korea was racked by growing protests against his authoritarianism. On 26 October 1979, Park was assassinated by the head of the Korean Central Intelligence Agency, Jae-gyu Kim. Geun-hye Park (1952–) Geun-hye Park served as the first female President of the Republic of Korea from 2013 to 2017. She is the daughter of former President Chung-hee Park and was born in Daegu in 1952. She grew up mostly in Seoul, where she spent her youth in the Blue House, the executive office and official residence of the Republic of Korea’s head of state. Geun-hye Park graduated from Sogang University in 1974 and became South Korea’s first lady after her mother was killed in a failed assassination attempt against her father by an agent of North Korea. Park embarked on her own political career in the wake of the Asian Financial Crisis of 1997/98. Before her presidency, she was chairwoman of the conservative Grand National Party from 2004 to 2006 and from 2011 to 2012. When Park became the 18th President of South Korea in 2013, the country was facing a number of challenges, including the the Sewol ferry disaster. In 2016, the National Assembly impeached Park on charges related to influence peddling by her top aide, Soon-sil Choi. In 2017, Park became South Korea’s first democratically elected President to be removed from office.

South Korean courts sentenced her to 24 years in prison in 2018, which was later increased to 25 years. Gilryong Park (1898–1943) Gilryong Park counts among the very first Korean architects of his generation to receive a modern education and become conversant with the architecture of Western modernism. In his own work, Park introduced a thoughtful and planned stylistic shift, exploring what modern Korean architecture should be like. He also actively participated in debates over social issues during the Japanese Colonial Period. After graduating from Gyeong­seong Engineering College in 1919, he began his career as a building engineer with the General Government of Joseon in 1920. Over the next decade, his investigation of hanoks in Korea sensitized him to housing issues and led to his participation in the Housing Improvement Movement of the 1930s. In 1932, Park resigned from his government position and opened his own office in Seoul, becoming the first officially registered architect of Korean nationality under Japanese colonial rule. He designed a large number of buildings including the former main hall of Keijo Imperial University in 1930, which is now Seoul National University, Jongno ­D epartment Store in 1931 and Hwasin Department Store in 1935. In 1938, he designed Korea’s first private museum, Bohwagak, which is now the Kansong Art Museum. Park also taught housing theory at Ewha Women’s University. Syng-man Rhee (1875–1965) Syng-man Rhee was a politician who served as the first President of the newly founded Republic of Korea. He was born in 1875 in Pyeongsan, Hwanghae Province, in North Korea. In 1896 he joined the Independence Club, a group dedicated to asserting Korean independence from Japan. When pro-Japanese right-wing elements destroyed the club in 1898, Rhee was arrested and imprisoned. After his release in 1904, he emigrated to the United States, where he went to university and completed a Ph.D. After a brief return to Korea from 1910 to 1912, he left the country again, living primarily in the U.S. In 1919 he was elected (in absentia) president of the newly founded Provisional Government of Korea in Shanghai, a position he kept for 20 years, eventually being pushed out of the leadership by younger Korean nationalists centered in China. After World War II, he returned to Korea and, with U.S. support, became President in 1948. Behind a democratic facade, Rhee established a dictatorial regime that did not shy away from assassinating opposition leaders and committing large-scale massacres against suspected communist sympathizers and collaborators. His authoritarian policies constantly raised the public opposition and triggered protests. In 1960, as protesters converged on the presidential palace, the CIA covertly flew him out to Hawaii, where he spent the rest of his life in exile and died in 1965.

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Moo-hyun Roh (1946–2009) The politician Moo-hyun Roh served as President of the Republic of Korea from 2003 to 2008. He was born in Gimhae in 1946. Passing the bar exam in 1975, he worked as a regional judge for a brief period before becoming a human rights lawyer. In the late 1980s Roh entered politics at the invitation of then-opposition leader YoungSam Kim. He advocated using diplomacy in persuading North Korea to abandon its nuclear weapons policy, and he was overtly critical of U.S. policy toward the Korean peninsula. After several ups and downs in his political career, Roh won the presidential elections in 2002. Taking office in February 2003, Roh faced a faltering economy and labor unrest. He also found himself in the midst of a financial scandal after several of his aides were accused of accepting illegal campaign donations. In 2004 Roh was impeached by the National Assembly and was forced to temporarily step down. After reinstatement as President, a continued poor performance of the economy caused Roh’s approval ratings to fall to the single digits, and a North Korean nuclear test in 2006 was seen as a sign of failure for the soft diplomacy championed by Roh and his predecessor, Dae-jung Kim. Fourteen months after the end of his term, Roh was investigated over allegations of bribery and he committed suicide in 2009. Tae-woo Roh (1932–) Tae-woo Roh is a former politician and army general who served as President of the Republic of Korea from 1988 to 1993. He was born in a small town near Daegu in 1932. Following the Korean War, Roh joined the South Korean Army and was promoted to General by 1979. After ­Doo-hwan Chun became President in 1980, Roh resigned from the military and supported the Chunled junta, as Minister of Political Affairs in 1981, Minister of Sports in 1982, and Minister of Home Affairs later in the same year. After becoming Chun’s designated successor in 1985, he ran for President in the December 1987 elections, winning against a disadvantaged and split opposition. During his five-year term as President, Roh committed himself to democratizing South Korean politics. He also launched a foreign policy initiative directed towards the communist world, including North Korea, cultivated new ties with China and the Soviet Union, and proved steadfast in the push toward socio-economic reforms at home. Roh left office in 1993 and was succeeded by Young-sam Kim. Crown Prince Sado (1735–1762) Crown Prince Sado was born in 1735 as the second son of King Yeongjo, who was the 21st ruler of the Joseon Dynasty. Sado was the only surviving male heir, as his older brother, Prince Hyojang, tragically died at age nine. As crown prince, Sado was married to Lady Hyegyeong at the age of eleven. Lady Hyegyeong later wrote in her book that the prince suffered from a severe mental illness during 1745. She also described King Yeongjo as

perpetually dissatisfied with whichever course of action Sado chose. At the age of 27, Crown Prince Sado was executed by order of his father and died of starvation by being confined in a rice chest. He was buried on Mount Baebong in Yangju. His body was moved by his son, King Jeongjo, to its current location near Suwon in 1789. Five years later the Hwaseong Fortress in Suwon was constructed by King Jeongjo, specifically to memorialize and honor his father’s tomb. Hyo-sang Seung (1952–) The architect Hyo-sang Seung received his education at Seoul National University and the Technical University of Vienna. He established his award-winning firm IROJE Architects and Planners in 1989, after working at the SPACE Group for Swoo Geun Kim for 15 years. Seung was also a core member of the 4.3 Group, which strongly influenced South Korean architecture in the 1990s. He has gained international recognition through projects like the Guggenheim Pavilion in Abu Dhabi, the Chao-Wei SOHO project in Beijing as well as the Korea DMZ PeaceLife Valley, the graveyard of former President Moo-hyun Roh and Commune by the Great Wall. Seung’s work is informed by his philosophy of emptiness, the subject of a book he co-authored with Hyun-sik Min in 2005, Structuring Emptiness. In addition to designing and running his firm, Seung has accepted many teaching engagements and continued to publish. Among his most important works are Beauty of Poverty (1996), Architecture: Signs of Thoughts (2004) and Landscript (2009). In 2007, the South Korean government honored him with the Korea Award for Art and Culture. Seung was commissioned as a director for the Gwangju Design Biennale 2011 after serving as a commissioner of the Korean Pavilion of the Venice Biennale 2008. From 2014 to 2016, Seung was the first City Architect of the Seoul Metropolitan Government, planning and reviewing a number of major public projects. From 2018 to 2020, he was appointed Chief Commissioner of the Presidential Commission on Architecture Policy. Seung taught at Seoul National University and Korea National University of Arts and was a visiting professor at North London University and TU Vienna. He is currently a chair professor at Dong-A University as well as a visiting professor at CAFA in Beijing. Kyung Kook Woo (1946–) Born in Seoul in 1946, Kyung Kook Woo graduated from Hanyang University with a Bachelor’s degree in Architecture in 1973. After completion of his studies, he began his career at Jeong-il Architects and Planners. In 1988, Woo founded his own practice, the YEKONG Art Space Group. He has taught at Dongguk University and currently is an adjunct professor at Hanyang University. Through his works, Woo has developed his own approach of exploring the identity of Korean modern architecture, developing a relational theory of architecture in which a building is seen as a constitutive element in a total network of human, natural, architectural and cosmic elements.

Woo’s representative projects include the Nam Myung Memorial Hall, Voidium in Heyri Art Village, Baik Soon Shil Museum and Monghakjae Residence. Yi Ik (1681–1763) Yi Ik, also known by his pen name Seongho, was a neo-Confucian scholar and early Silhak philosopher of the Joseon Dynasty. He was born in Unsan in Pyeongan Province in 1681. Yi Ik belonged to the Namin Faction and actively participated in the social and political debates of the late Joseon society. He demanded that Joseon become more permeable and egalitarian, recommending that the dynasty hire people regardless of their social class. He also urged upper-class people to become more engaged in economic activities and production rather than staying in academia, a stance that earned him the opposition of many aristocrats and fellow scholars. Yi Ik positively accommodated many religious and scientific concepts from the West and introduced them to his fellow Confucian literati through many of his writings. His work Seongho Saseol, which covers subjects such as government, economy and the family, suggested detailed proposals for reordering almost every aspect of Joseon society. As Yi attracted many disciples, the Silhak Movement gradually emerged as the Joseon Dynasty’s dominant school of thought.

327

Acknowledgments

Books like this don’t materialize from non-local and, in this case, non-Korean hands without considerable input and guidance from local sources, professionals and supporters. First and foremost, sincere thanks must be extended to Kyung-Sun Yu, the Chairman of the Eugene Group, along with Jeongmin Yu, for their extraordinary interest and tangible support of our interest in Korea. Without them, this book would never have seen the light of day. Also, Jihoon Song, while a co-author here, must be singled out for his early conceptual contributions to the project. Together with Professors Saehoon Kim and Sanghoon Jung, he was a doctoral student at Harvard’s Graduate School of Design, along with Jeongmin Yu, mentioned earlier, and Jung-Hyun Woo as well as Kristin Hunter and, in her master’s degree status, Soe-Won Hwang, all of whom helped form a formidable cohort of professional and scholarly expertise. Others, such as Sohn-Joo Min, Michael H. Lee, Helen Park and Jun-Jae Yang, were instrumental in providing us with insightful understandings of the local terrain from various points of view. In a similar manner, we also profited from the wise counsel of the late Woo-Choong Kim, formally of Daewoo, who had an abiding interest in urban-architectural matters. Similarly, very special acknowledgment goes to Professor Inha Jung, who spent a year at Harvard working alongside us writing his own incomparable account of modern Korean architecture and urbanism. In addition, as a professional protagonist in this story, Pilsoo Maing spent time with us at Harvard in the Urban Design Program. In many regards the book also arose from discussion of the “New Trajectories: Convergent Flux” exhibition and related publication at Harvard and at the Van Alen Institute in New York by Jinhee Park and John Hong of SsD Architecture and Urbanism. Finally, special thanks must go to Lee Kwang, currently a student studying Urban Design at Harvard, for his research assistance and guidance through the thicket of the newer romanized version of Korean.

329

Illustration Credits

CHAPTER 1 18 Drawn by authors based on Inglehart and Welzel, 2005. 19 Drawn by authors. 20–24 Drawn by authors, based on Bank of Korea, various years, Economic Statistics Yearbooks, www.bob.or.kr ; Central Intelligence Agency, 2010, CIA – The World Factbook: Korea, South, www.cia.gov; DATABLOG, 2019, “Percent of Global Population Living in Cities by Continent”, The Guardian, www.theguardian.com/ news/datablog; Charles R. Frank, Kwang Suk Kim, Larry E. Westphal, 1975, “Economic Growth in South Korea Since World War II”, in: Foreign Trade Regimes and Economic Development: South Korea, Cambridge, Mass.: National Bureau of Economic Research, pp. 6–24; Seoghoon Kang, 2001, “Globalization and Income Inequality in Korea: An Overview”, in: Proceedings of Technical Meeting on FDI, Human Capital and Education in Developing Countries, Paris: OECD Development Centre, December 13–14; Tae-jong Kim, 2006, “Korea’s Economic Transformation”, working paper, Seoul: KDI School of Public Policy and Management; Betty L. King, 1975, “Japanese Colonialism and Korean Economic Development, 1910– 1945”, Asian Studies, 13:3, pp. 1–21; Young Ick Lew and Hyug-Baeg Im, 2019, “Economic and Social Development”, Encyclopedia Britannica, www.britannica.com; Cheryl Magnant, 2015, “A History of Korean Housing”, EthnoScopes: Tracks of an Anthropologist, November 5, https://ethnoscopes. blogspot.com; OECD, 2019, Korea: Country Statistical Profile – Selected Indicators, https://data. oecd.org/korea.htm; Michael J. Seth, 2017, “South Korea’s Eco-

nomic Development, 1948–1996”, Oxford Research Encyclopedia of Asian History, December 19, https://doi.org/10.1093/acrefore/9780190277727.013.271; Our World in Data, “South Korea”, https://ourworldindata.org; The World of Teoalida, 2013, “Housing in South Korea”, www. teoalida.com; Wikipedia, 2019, “Demographics of South Korea”, en.wikipedia.org.

CHAPTER 2 37 Drawn by authors. 38 Panel from The Royal Procession to the Ancestral Tomb, 1795, public domain. 40 Military Map of the Hwaseong Fortress, c.1795, public domain. 45 Craft model by authors. 46 Diagram from Pyoong Won Kim, “Scientific Disciplines of Geojunggi (the Traditional Crane) in Korean Science, Technology and History”, EURASIA Journal of Mathematics, Science and Technology Education, Vol 13(9), 31 August 2017, pp. 6147–6163. 49 Records of Hwaseong Fortress Construction, National Museum of Korea, public domain. 50–55 Live Studio Kim Hakri, 2014, Korea Tourism Organization. 58 Painting of Eastern Palaces (Donggwol-do), c. 1930, collection of Korea University Museum, public domain, and diagram by author. 62 Gyeongbokgung Palace Management Center, public domain. 65 Ku Bonsang, 2011, Korea Tourism Organization. 66–70 Lee Bumsu, 2017, Korea Tourism Organization. 72 Mark Bertram, 1980s, roomfordiplomacy.com. 73 The Hotel Sontag Advertisement Postcard, c. 1909, public domain.

74/75 Lee Beomsu, 2010, Korea Tourism Organization. 77 Lee Bumsu, 2019, Seoul Tourism Organization, and Kim Jae-eun, 2019, Cultural Heritage Administration, Deoksungung Palace Management Office.

CHAPTER 3 80 Peter G. Rowe et al. (eds.), 2010, A City and Its Stream: An Appraisal of the Cheonggyecheon Restoration Project and Its Environs in Seoul, South Korea, Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Graduate School of Design, p. 27. 81 Drawn by author based on Chosen Sotokufu Tetsudo­k yoku, 1940, Chosen tetsudo yonju-nen ryakushi (Forty-Year History of the Korean Railways), Keijo, pp. 568, 171. 84 Steve Garrigues, @stevegarrigues, public domain. 86 Author’s collection, public domain. 89 Robert Neff Collection. 90 Robert Neff Collection, and Hideki Yoshida, 2005, Creative Commons. 92 Robert Neff Collection, and Lerk, 2018, Creative Commons. 93 Culture Station Seoul 284, Korea Craft and Design Foundation. 95 Robert Neff Collection. 96/97 Kim Youngjoon, 2019. 98 David McIlwain, 2006, Creative Commons. 101 Robert Neff Collection, and Goodnews Gallery, 2010. 103 Kim Jiho, 2013, Korean Tourism Organization. 105 Robert Neff Collection, and Korean Tourism Organization, Creative Commons. 106 Robert Neff Collection. 108 Drawn by author.

109 Robert Neff Collection, and author’s collection, public domain. 111 Sun-Ae Choi, 1981, p. 129. 112 Kansong Art and Culture Foundation. 115 Robert Neff Collection, and Moravius, 2007, Creative Commons.

CHAPTER 4 121 NASA, 2017, public domain. 122 KTO Kim Jiho, 2014, Korea Tourism Organization. 124 Courtesy - Archive of Swoo-Geun Kim. 127 clumsyforeigner, 2014, Wikimedia Commons, and Dmthoth, 2013, Wikimedia Commons. 130–133 ©️Naree Kim. 134 choichangyoung, 2017, and Cheongju-s @cjcitynet, 2018, twitter, public domain. 136/137 Arario Museum in Space, Seoul Metropolitan Government. 138 SPACE Group, National Museum of Modern and Contemporary Art. 139 Courtesy -  Archive of Swoo-Geun Kim. 140 SOSU Architects. 142/143 Arne Müseler, 2020, Creative Commons. 145–147 ©️ Kimchungup Architecture Museum Collection. 150/151 National Archives of Korea. 152–155 Suné Horn, 2014. 157 Courtesy - Archive of Swoo-Geun Kim. 158 ©️ Kimchungup Architecture Museum Collection. 159 Drawn by author. 161 ©️ Kimchungup Architecture Museum Collection. 163 Drawn by author, based on the Korean Statistical Sourcebook.

CHAPTER 5 171 Seoul Metropolitan Fire and Disaster Headquarters, 1995, Creative Commons. 173 Museum of Modern Art, New York, 2012.

176 Kim Jae-Kyeong, and IROJE Architects and Planners. 178/179 Kim Jae-Kyeong. 180 IROJE Architects and Planners. 181 Kim Jae-Kyeong. 182–189 IROJE Architects and Planners. 190 Paju Book City, Publishing City Cultural Foundation. 191 Choi Jeong-dong, 2014, https://koreajoongangdaily. joins.com/2014/06/16/arts Design/L strictions-opens -up-in-Paju/2990621.html. 192 Park Youngchae. Courtesy Kim In-cheurl + Archium. 194 Kim In-cheurl + Archium. 196–199 Park Youngchae. Courtesy Kim In-cheurl + Archium. 201 Kim In-cheurl + Archium. 202–205 Park Youngchae. Courtesy Kim In-cheurl + Archium. 207–208 Author’s collection. 211–213 Dongkuk Chang, Jaechoon Shim, 2011, “Configurational Analysis of Contemporary Korean-Style Houses Regarding the Expression of Their Koreanity”, Architectural Research, 13(4), pp. 3–10.

CHAPTER 6 219 Kyungsub Shin. MASS Studies. 220–221 Yong-Kwan Kim. MASS Studies. 223 Kyungsub Shin. MASS Studies. 224 MASS Studies. 225 Yong-Kwan Kim. MASS Studies. 226 Kyungsub Shin. MASS Studies. 229 Kyungsub Shin. MASS Studies. Heerim Architects & Planners, and PARKKIM. 232/233 Kim Yongkwan. Ga.a Architects. 234 Ga.a Architects. 235–236 Kim Yongkwan. Ga.a Architects. 238–245 Namgung Sun. Ga.a Architects. 246 Yongkwan Kim. THE_SYSTEM LAB. 248 THE_SYSTEM LAB.

249 Yongkwan Kim. THE_SYSTEM LAB. 250 THE_SYSTEM LAB. 253 Yongkwan Kim. THE_SYSTEM LAB. 254/255 Yu Cheong O. Courtesy of MMK+. 256–259 Hyun Jun Lee. Courtesy of MMK+. 261 BTS for LG Electronics, 2018, Creative Commons.

CHAPTER 7 269 Kim Jiho, 2018, Korea Tourism Organization, and lecture slide from author. 270/271 Kim Jiho, 2013, Korea Tourism Organization. 272 Sin S., 2017, Creative Commons, and lecture slide from author. 274 Author’s collection, public domain. 276 Lee Cheong-i, 2015, Korea Tourism Board. 277 Harshil Shah, 2017, Creative Commons. 278 Author’s collection, public domain. 279 Photo by author. 280 nippon.com, 2018, and author’s collection, public domain. 281 Kim Jiho, 2007, Korea Tourism Organization. 283 Kim Yongkwan. Ga.a Architects, and Park Youngchae. Courtesy of Kim In-cheurl + Archium. 284 Sun Namgoong. Ga.a Architects. 286 IROJE Architects and Planners. 290 Commemorative Album of Paintings and Writings on the Cheonggyecheon Stream Dredging Project of 1760, Busan Museum Collection, public domain, and author’s collection, public domain. 293–294 Author’s collection, public domain. 296 Author’s collection. 298/299 Ko Byungsuk, 2016, Creative Commons. 303 Author’s collection. 305–309 Courtesy of JERDE, 2012. 311 Photo by author. 313 HaB Korea.

331

About the Authors

Peter G. Rowe is the Raymond Garbe Professor of Architecture and Urban Design at Harvard University’s Graduate School of Design and also a Harvard University Distinguished Service Professor. He served for twelve years as Dean of the Faculty of Design at Harvard and prior to that as the Chairman of the Department of Urban Planning and Design, as well as Director of the Urban Design Program. He is also currently the Founding Chairman of SURBA – the Studio for Urban Analyses in Brooklyn, New York. Born in New Zealand, Rowe is the holder of several honorary professorships in East Asia and the author, co-author and editor of numerous books, many dealing with the constructed environments of East Asia. He recently authored Emergent Architectural Territories in East Asia and was co-author of Urban Intensities: Contemporary Housing Types and Territories, and China’s Urban Communities: Concepts, Contexts and Well-Being. Yun Fu is an Instructor and Design Critic in the Department of Urban Planning and Design at Harvard University’s Graduate School of Design. Originally from New ­Zealand, he graduated in Architectural Studies from the University of New South Wales, prior to earning Master of Architecture and Doctor of Design degrees at Harvard. A winner of the Rome Prize at the British School in Rome, he also recently entered independent practice, co-founding the design and research studio ­Semester. He had previously worked as a designer for Foster+Partners in London and ZAO/ standardarchitecture in Beijing. He was also a contributor to Urban Intensities: Contemporary Housing Types and Territories, as well as China’s Urban Communities: Concepts, Contexts and Well-Being. Jihoon Song is a Visiting Researcher at the Center for Spatial Information Sciences at the University of Tokyo. He received his undergraduate degree in Architecture from Seoul National University, followed by Master of Architecture in Urban Design and Doctor of Design degrees at Harvard University’s Graduate School of Design. He was a Samsung Scholar at Harvard from 2008 to 2015 and, until recently, a Research Associate at Harvard University’s Graduate School of Design. He was also a practicing architect at Heerim Architects and taught courses at Bucheon University in Korea, as well as serving as a researcher in the Healthy Places Design Lab at Harvard’s Graduate School of Design.

333

Index

4.3 Group  27, 31, 32, 166, 172, 174, 175, 193, 201, 206, 209, 210, 242, 285, 300, 301, 322, 324, 326 A Library with No Restrictions  191 A Painting of Four Spirits  160 Acropolis, Athens  144 Ambassador’s Office see Embassy of France Ambassador’s Residence see Embassy of France Ando, Tadao  27 Andreu, Paul  261 Anselmo, Giovanni  174 Archium  193, 200 Arko Art Center  140, 141 Arnason, Johann  13 Arte Charpentier  261 Asia Publishing Culture and Information Center  188, 190 Baekje Cultural Festival Memorial  129 Baudelaire, Charles  11 Bauzium Sculpture Museum  200–205, 209, 210, 282, 285 Beck, Ulrich  13, 14, 16 Beigel, Florian  188 Bellmer, Hans  174 Berlin Reichstag  88 Berman, Marshall  15 Besson, Jacques  44 Birmingham Guild of Handicraft  102 Blanc, Gustave  100 Boetti, Alighiero  173, 174 Bohwagak see Kansong Art Museum Bong, Joon-ho  304 Boongdong-Jemachi 29 Botta, Mario  261 Boutique Monaco  217–221, 282 British Legation Building  71, 72 Brown, John Leary  76 BTS (Bangtan Boys)  260, 261 Bukchon and Its Hanoks  206–208 Burri, Alberto  174 Buyeo National Museum  126, 129–133 Carpenter Center for the Visual Arts, Harvard University  144 Cathedral Church of St. Mary and St. Nicholas see Keijo Anglican Cathedral Cathedral Church of Virgin Mary of the Immaculate Conception see the Myeong-dong Cathedral CCTV-TVCC project  261 Celant, Germano  174

Chan Krieger Associates  247 Changchun Military Academy  119 Changdeokgung Palace  39, 59, 64 Changgyeonggung Palace  59 Changnyongmun (East Gate)  41 Chebu-dong Hongjongmunga see Go-Yang Hong residence Cheoljong 48 Cheon, Ho-gyun  231 Cheonggye Highway  170 Cheonggyecheon Restoration Project  215, 289, 290–294 Cheonggyecheon stream restoration project  28 Cheongju National Museum  126, 134, 135, 285 Cho, Junggoo  282, 320 Cho, Minsuk  33, 217, 218, 222, 227, 228, 263, 282, 285, 287, 320 Cho Slade Architects  217, 218 Choi, Kyu-hah  31, 117 Choi, Moongyu  33, 230, 231, 237, 242, 263, 282, 285, 287, 320 Chun, Doo-hwan  31, 117, 167, 168, 320 Chung-Ang University  193 Church of St. John and St. Basil, Birmingham 103 Chwihyanggyo (Wooden Bridge)  63 City Hall of Keijo  90, 91 City Walls of Hanyang  296, 298–299, 303 Columbia University  217, 230, 300 Conder, Josiah  113, 114 Construction Company  251 Consulate see Embassy of France Corfe, John  102 Cornell, Joseph  174 Coste, Eugène  100, 102 Crown Prince Sado’s tomb  42 Cultural Center  129 Cumings, Bruce  123 Customs House building  71 Customs House at Deok­sugung  76 Daehakro Culture Center  177, 182 Daejeon University  183, 184, 186 Daewoo  123, 262 Daeyeonggak Hotel  148 Daimaru Department Store, Osaka  99 Dangun Wanggeom  25 Daum Communications  222 Daum Space.1 (Daum Jeju Head­ quarters)  222–225, 263, 285, 287 Davidson 76

De Lalande, Georg  88 Deleuze, Gilles  15 Denk-sin 39 Deoksugung Palace  59, 64, 65, 71, 267 Diagrams and Explanations of the Wonderful Machines of the Far West (Yuanxi Qigi Tushuo Luzhi)  44 Diet Building, Tokyo  88 Dior Building, Tokyo  248 Directions on Building the Pontoon Bridge (Jugyo jeolmok) 41 Dixon, Arthur Stansfield  102, 103 Dongdaemun Fashion Center  261 Donggung (Crown Prince’s Palace)  63 Donghwa Department Store see Mitsukoshi Department Store Dukwon Gallery  230 Dyer, Henry  113 Eisenstadt, Shmuel  13 Embassy of France  126, 141, 144–147, 282, 285 Eom, Deok-mun  193 ETH Zurich  247 Ewha Student Center see Student Center, Ewha Women’s University Ewha Women’s University  98, 99, 195 Ferguson, Niall  15 Fukada, Dogo  88 Fukuyama, Francis  13 Ga.A Architects  230, 237, 242, 263 Gale International  228 Game Plan  173 Gangnyeongjeon (King’s Quarters) 63 Gaonkar, Dilip  11 General Government Building (Joseon-Chongdokbu Cheongsa)  86–89, 91, 297 Geunjeongjeon (Throne Hall)  63 Geunjeongmun Gate  63 Giddens, Anthony  13, 16 Gilmosery Building  192–194 Gojong  48, 56, 57, 63, 64, 71, 83, 99, 100, 102, 273, 292, 320 Government General of Joseon Architecture Department  94 Governor’s Residence, Chandigarh 144 Go-Yang Hong residence  267 Grand Theater, Shanghai  261 Grand West Gate (Seodaemun)  141 Group See  230 Guattari, Félix  15 Guga Urban Architecture  282

Guro Industrial Complex  120 Gwanghwamun Gate  63, 64, 87 Gyeongbokgung Palace  57, 59, 61, 63, 66–70, 87, 301 Gyeongbok Palace reconstruction and expansion (Gyeongbokgung Reconstruction)  9, 29, 57, 61, 63, 64, 301 Gyeonghoeru Pavilion (Banquet Hall) at Gyeongbokgung Palace  69 Gyeonghuigung Palace  59 Gyeongsechiyongpa School of Administration and Practical Usage  36 Gyeongseong Higher Technical School  94, 108 Gyotaejeon (Queen’s Quarters)  63 H Music Library  242–245, 263, 287 Habermas, Jürgen  12, 13 Hadid, Zaha  261 Haenggung, enclosed palace  41, 42, 53 Hall, Edward T.  300 Hangang Bridge and Expressway  251 Hanul Architects & Engineers  230 Hanwool Architecture Company  247 Hapjeong-dong House  206 Harding, John Reginald  76 Harvard University  117, 247, 251, 300 Hayashi, Kokei  107 Hegel, Georg Friedrich Wilhelm  13, 29, 126 Heidegger, Martin  300 Her Majesty’s Office of Works, Shanghai 71 Heryoojae Hospital  141 Herzog and de Meuron  248, 261 Heungnyemun Gate  61 Heungseon-Daewongun  29, 48, 56, 57, 60, 64, 297, 321 Hideyoshi 79 Hongik University  125, 193 Huntington, Samuel Phillips  13 Hwahongmun (Bridge and Pavilion over the Suwoncheon Stream) 54–55 Hwanung 25 Hwaseomun (West Gate) 41, 50–51 Hwaseong Fortress  28, 39, 41–44, 47–55, 64, 289, 301 Hwaseong seongyeok uigwe  44, 47, 49, 289 Hwasin Department Store  108, 109 Hyangwonjeong (Pavilion)  63 Hyegyeong  35, 39, 321 Hyehwa Culture Center  183, 184 Hyundai Card  242 Hyundai Engineering and Construction 215 Hyundai–Kia  260, 262 Imperial College of Engineering  113 Imperial Japanese Military Academy 119 Independence Hall  129 Ingleheart, Ronald  14, 16, 18 Inje Construction  193 Iri Station  148 IROJE Architects & Planners  175 Iwatsuki, Yoshiyuki  94 Jagyeongjeon (Dowager’s compound) 63

Jamsil Olympic Stadium  141–143 Janganmun (North Gate)  41, 52 Jeong, Segwon  268, 321 Jeong, Seon  36 Jeong, Yakyong  (Dasan)  43, 44, 47, 289, 297, 321 Jeonggwanheon (Tea House), Deoksugung Palace  71, 74–75 Jeongjo  35–37, 39, 42, 43, 47, 48, 117, 289, 291, 321 Jeonju Hanok Village  268 Jibokjae (Private Library) at Gyeongbokgung Palace  68 Jihak-jae (Library)  63 Jin Mao Tower  261 Joh, Sung-Yong  206, 322 Joseon Bank  114, 115 Joseon Dynasty  9, 16, 17, 27–29, 35, 42, 47, 48, 57, 59–61, 64, 80, 102, 117, 126, 135, 141, 265 , 267, 268, 288, 289, 292, 297, 300, 301 Joseon Headquarters Building see General Government Building (Joseon-Chongdokbu Cheongsa) Jung, Inha  110, 126, 135, 285 Jurassic Park 262 Kansong Art Museum  110, 112 Keijo Anglican Cathedral  102, 103 Keijo Imperial College  94–97 Keijo Station  91–93, 114 Keio University, Tokyo  94 Kim, Chanjoong  33, 247, 251, 322 Kim, Chung-up  31, 125, 126, 141, 156, 159, 160, 193, 209, 282, 285, 322 Kim, Dae-jung  32, 170, 215, 262, 322 Kim, Hyun-ok  31, 125, 149, 292 Kim, In Cheurl  32, 174, 193, 195, 197, 200, 201, 206, 209, 210, 282, 285, 287, 300, 322 Kim, Jae-gyu  123 Kim, Jihoon  251 Kim, Jong-kyu  188 Kim, Jong-pil  119 Kim, Jong-soo  129, 156, 323 Kim, Jong-un  216 Kim, Myoung Sook  200 Kim, Swoo Geun  31, 125, 126, 128, 129, 135, 141, 144, 149, 156, 175, 209, 263, 282, 285, 300, 302, 323 Kim, Woo-choong  123 Kim, Young Joon  141, 188, 323 Kim, Young-sam  31, 167–170, 215, 262, 323 Kim Ok-Gil Memorial Hall  195, 197–199 Kimm, Jong Soung  156, 323 King Jeongjo’s Procession to the Tomb of the Crown Prince Sado at Hwaseong Fortress  39 Kingo, Tatsuno  91, 113, 114 Koetter Kim & Associates  149 Kohn Pedersen Fox (KPF)  228 Kookmin University  193 Koolhaas, Rem  228 Korea National University of the Arts  175 Korea University  247 Korean Housing Corporation  164 Korean Institute of Architects  59

Korean Society of Civil Engineers  170 KSWA 247 Kunjieda, Hiroshi  88 Kwon, Moon-sung  230 Kyoto University  94 Kyung Hee University  247 Lash, Scott  13 Le Corbusier  31, 125, 126, 141, 144, 156, 300 Lee, Byung-chul  107 Lee, Myung-bak  32, 215, 216, 263, 292, 324 Leeum Samsung Museum of Art  261 Leonardo da Vinci  47 Levin, Miriam  15 Libeskind, Daniel  261 London Bricktown, Tokyo  113 Lotte Mall  302 Lovell 76 MacArthur, Douglas  118 MacCannell, Dean  263, 302 Maekawa, Kunio  114, 126, 300 Main Auditorium, Ewha Women’s University 99 Main Hall, Ewha Women’s University 99 Maing, Pilsoo  33, 251, 263, 285, 287, 300, 324 Marx, Karl  13 Marzoni, Piero  174 Mass Studies  217, 228, 263 Meiji-tenno (Mutsuhito)  80, 107, 113, 119 Meyer & Co. buildings, Jemulpo  71 Mies van der Rohe, Ludwig  27, 156, 159 Min, Hyun-sik  183, 188, 193, 324 Ming dynasty  26, 36, 42 Mitsui, Takatoshi  104 Mitsukoshi Department Store, Keijo  104–108, 302 MMK+  251, 263, 285, 287 Monghakjae Residence  206 Moon, Donghwan  251 Moon, Jae-in  33, 216, 324 Morris, William  102 MVRDV 218 Myeong-dong Cathedral  100–102 Myeong-seong (Queen Min)  56, 63, 324 Myeongjong 59 Nakamura, Junpei  125 Namsan Hanok Village (Namsangol hanok maeul)  267–272 Napoleon Bonaparte  119 National Assembly Building  124–129, 285 National Grand Theatre, Beijing  261 National Theater  129 Nelson, Horatio  156 Nodeul Island Development  251, 252, 254–259, 263, 285, 287 Nomura, Ichiro  88 North London University  175, 188 Nouvel, Jean  261 Olympic Stadium, Beijing  261 OMA  228, 261 Oriental Development Company  82 Oriental Hotel, Kobe  88

335

Paju Book City  188–191 Paldalmun (South Gate)  41 Parasite 304 Park, Chung-hee  9, 28, 29, 31, 116–120, 123, 148, 156, 162, 164, 165, 167, 170, 216, 265, 292, 297, 301, 325 Park, Geun-hye  32, 216, 263, 325 Park, Gilryong  88, 94, 109–111, 297, 325 Park, Kisu  227 Parsons, Talcott  10 Paul Smith Flagship Store, Seoul  246–249 Peace Memorial, Hiroshima  128 Perkins Eastman  251 Perrault, Dominique  99, 261 Pevsner, Nikolaus  102 Pistoletto, Michelangelo  174 Place 1  251, 253 Pohang Iron and Steel  120–122 Pontoon Bridge across the Han River  38–41 POSCO 228 Prada store, Tokyo  248 Princeton University  117 Qing dynasty  26, 30 Raemian Gallery  250, 251 Ramelli, Agostino  44 Rhee, Syng-man  117, 118, 120, 325 Ricœur, Paul  300 Roh, Moo-hyun  32, 215, 262, 326 Roh, Tae-woo  31, 117, 167, 168, 215, 326 Royal Prussian Building Offices, Breslau 88 Russian Legation’s Building, Nanyang 71 Sado  35, 39, 326 Saito, Makato  83 Sajeongjeon (Offices)  63 Samil Elevated Bypass  170 Samilro Building  126, 156, 158, 159, 164 Sampoong Department Store  170, 171 Samsung  260, 262 SANAA 248 Savar Building  170 Schmidt, Volker  16 Schreck, Johannes  44, 47 Scranton, Mary F.  99 Seagram Building  159 Seel, Richard  88 Seokjojeon (Palace Residence)  76, 77 Seongsu Bridge  170 Seoul-Busan expressway  149 Seoul National University  31, 94, 125, 175, 177, 251 Seoul Olympic Stadium  126 Seoul School of Architecture  175 Seoul Station Building see Keijo Station Seoul University  237 Seowonmaeul 273 Settle Bank  193 Seung, Hyo-sang  32, 174, 175, 183, 188, 193, 206, 210, 282, 285, 300, 326 Sewoon Sangga complex  126, 148–155 Shanghai Heritage Museum  141 Shinsegae see Mitsukoshi Department Store

Sinmumun (North Gate)  63 Society for the Establishment of a Normal University  83 SOM 261 Songdo Triple Street Complex  228, 229, 285 Songwon Art Center  226, 227 Sontag, Antoinette  71 Sontag Hotel, Hanyang  71, 73 Soongsil University  237 South Korean Pavilion, Expo Osaka  126, 156, 157 Southern Manchurian Railway Company (SMRC)  82, 85 SPACE Group  31, 125, 175, 251, 300, 302 SPACE Group Building  126, 135, 136–139, 141, 144, 282 Spielberg, Steven  262 Ssamziegil Project  230–236, 263, 282, 285, 287 Stern, Isaac  282 Student Center, Ewha Women's University  99, 261 Student Dormitory, Daejeon University  183, 185–187 Sujeongjeon (Office of Scholars)  63 Sujoldang House  175, 176, 206, 282 Sunjo  48, 292 Sunjong  64, 79 Suwon Fortress (Suwon Hwaseong)  9, 29 System Lab  247, 251 Taejo  57, 289 Taipei Guest House  88 Taisho-tenno (Yoshihito)  114 Tange, Kenzo  114, 125, 126, 128, 129, 156, 285, 300 Tangent Facade  261 Taylor, Charles  10, 11, 16 Taylor, Peter  14, 15 Technical University, Berlin  88 Technical University, Vienna  175 Terauchi, Musatake  79 The Mind Governing the People 43 Todai University  94, 125, 300 Tokuma, Katayama  113, 114 Tokyo Imperial University  31, 91 Tokyo National University of Fine Arts and Music  125 Tokyo Station  91 Toyo Ito Architects  230 Trollop, Mark  102 Tsukamoto, Yasushi  91 Underwood Memorial Library  237 Urban Hive  195–197, 287 Urban Renaissance Green Corridor  149 U.S. Capitol Building  88 Veritas Hall, Yonsei International Campus 237–239 Vories, William Merrell  99 Waeber, Karl  71 Wang, Zheng  44, 47 Wangcheng Plan  61 Waters, Thomas  113 Weber, Max  11, 13, 26 Welcomm City  175, 177–181, 210, 282, 285

Welzel, Christian  14, 18 Wilson, Woodrow  83 Wittrock, Björn  13 Woo, Kyung Kook  206, 326 World Peace Gate  126, 160, 161 Wow Apartment Building  148 WoZoCo housing complex, Amsterdam-Osdorp 218 Xing, Tonghe  141 Yeongchumun (West Gate)  63 Yi, Ik (Seongho)  36, 327 Yi, Seong-gye  35 Yi, Sun-sin  156 Yi, Wan-yong  79 Yokohama National University  125 Yonsei International Campus, Songdo  237, 240–241, 285 Yonsei University  217, 230, 237 Yu, Hyeongwon  36 Yun, Gang  99 Yun, Po-sun  31, 117, 118 Zonca, Vittorio  44