15/10/2025

Excerpts from the History of Korean Popular Music [9]

Meanwhile, Jazz Plays Softly: The Jazz Songs (Part II)





To the left, the legendary, two-story Nakrang Parlor (Nakrang-daband), which opened its doors in 1932; to the right, dancer and—as we would call her today—influencer Choi Seung-hee,
having coffee on the terrace of the Chosun Hotel in 1940 (Public Domain)



Before continuing with other major figures of jazz in Joseon, let us talk about the jazz songs of the era. It is clear that jazz was more than just music; as previously mentioned, it was first and foremost a lifestyle, an attitude that reflected the spirit of modernity. Therefore, it is no surprise that most of the genres discussed so far were permeated by it in some way: either in the singing style, the instrumentation, or both, even if the foundation happened to be early trot, new folk song, or manyo. The extent to which this might have also been a conscious choice will be discussed later.

Naturally, a consequence of this is that jazz songs do not really exhibit all the defining musical characteristics of the jazz genre simultaneously, but the feeling is undeniably present.

For this very reason, it is not easy to summarize the music belonging to the category of jazz songs from this period. Furthermore, many—precisely due to these genre blendings—place the true beginning of Korean jazz only in the years following World War II. Others question the independent identifiability of jazz, arguing that this music was considered frivolous and was therefore mainly employed by manyo musicians; they claim that manyo and jazz cannot be separated from each other, being one and the same. In both viewpoints, a certain patronizing malice toward the jazz of the era can be felt, but fortunately, more thorough mappings have been produced as well. However, there is also some truth to them, as the musical landscape of manyo, lacking any precursors, obviously allowed greater freedom for composers' imaginations and instrumentation experiments to run wild. Therefore, it is no coincidence that, for example, the song Oppa is a playboy, which could be heard earlier in the presentation of manyo, also finds its place in a jazz club environment, as we can see it performed by Joo Won in the drama Bridal Mask (Gaksital, 2012):




Illuminating a scene from the drama through the lyrics of the song:

Do you remember the dilemma from the seventh chapter regarding the correct translation and interpretation of the song's title? Since the meaning of oppa as 'older brother' is the correct solution for 'Oppa Is a Troublemaker', it also explains a scene in the Bridal Mask video above. In this scene, Lee Kang-to (played by Joo Won) chokes up while singing because the lyrics bring back the memory of his older brother, whom he had similarly considered a good-for-nothing troublemaker. He cannot even continue singing and runs out of the room—a reaction that wouldn't make much sense if the song were merely about a lovers' tiff. Anything more would be a spoiler, but I highly recommend this magnificent drama to everyone.



The jazz songs formed a constant musical backdrop in the fashionable coffeehouses and teahouses of the era, the dabangs (다방). Located almost exclusively in major cities, these places were symbols of Westernization, luxury, and social status. In principle, they were open to anyone, yet their audience primarily consisted of the Japanese elite, the Korean bourgeoisie, and modernist intellectuals. For an average person, a drink there represented an unreachable luxury—costing four to five times as much as an ordinary lunch—but an equally excluding factor was that foreign languages were often used in dabangs, and knowledge of modern (Western) etiquette was expected. Dabangs initially started as luxury interior lounges within hotels, expanding into standalone institutions following that trend. The most famous dabangs strove to create a unique identity through their interior design, often adopting the distinct features of exotic or other national cultures, such as Mexico (멕시코 다방), the German Win (빈 다방), the Russian Troika (트로이카 다방), the French Mimosa (미모사 다방), or Nakrangpara (낙랑파라 다방), whose interior was inspired by artifacts from the historical Nakrang Kingdom, which was undergoing excavation at that exact time. Since they were often managed by renowned Joseon artists (writers, actors, filmmakers), they also fulfilled cultural functions; Nakrangpara, for instance, functioned as a visual arts exhibition space, while Fugaro (풍가로 다방) and Erisa (엘리사 다방) served as venues for classical music concerts. As was the case elsewhere in the world, dabangs became hangouts for writers and artists, as well as "information hubs" for all modern-minded young intellectuals seeking refuge from the oppressive colonial censorship and political reality. The first Korean-run dabang, Kakadu (카카두 다방), operated by filmmaker Lee Kyung-son, opened in 1927.
  
Speaking of film and drama clips, it is worth pausing for a moment to consider the question: how much reality is there in the dance entertainment venues that frequently appear in stories set during the late period of Japanese rule? Did public dance halls, open to everyone, truly operate in Joseon? According to some, they did not, because they were banned by the Japanese Governor-General, specifically in connection with a petition submitted by Koreans in 1937 requesting the licensing of such venues. At the same time, recent cultural history research and contemporary press archives (e.g. Hiphople) have unearthed numerous newspaper articles from between 1931 and 1945 proving that many dance venues continued to operate despite the later bans. After all, how else could people have complained about their noise? The most likely explanation is that despite the ostensible prohibition, authorities turned a blind eye to their operation and only took action against them in the most flagrant cases. Since several such venues were reported even in the months immediately following liberation, this also makes it highly probable that these dance spots had been established earlier and operated continuously.



“The noise of a bar across the street, a dance hall and
a jazz bar two doors down is so loud that it is deafening.”
(Jayu Shinmun, October 7, 1945, page 2) (Public Domain)



Fourteen years earlier, in June 1931, Oh Seok-Cheon wrote this about jazz dances in his article titled Modernism:


“Jazz dance. The original homeland of this is 'Yankee-land'. (……) Just look at their dance steps! They tilt their upper body (the chest) backward as much as possible and push their lower body (the belly) forward, don’t they? If not that, they move their upper and lower bodies pressed tightly against each other. What a superfluous, shameless posture this is—a one hundred percent outburst of pure erotica! In such poses, they spin, twitch, and leap all over the place. And then what happens? They loiter, wander, get drunk, dance—and finally... disappear into a “monglong hotel” (meaning some hotel of dubious reputation). Speed, train, automobile, airplane—all these instruments mean only this: new fields and new settings for erotica and mania. They board—and it begins there; they alight—and with that, it ends.”





Chosun Ilbo, February 18, 1933 (Public Domain)


A portion of the jazz songs is nothing more than the adoption of famous foreign (mostly American, but even Japanese) hits, often interpreted without changes, or perhaps featuring rearranged instrumentation or new lyrics. Among these, one humorously points out the consequences arising from the mix-ups. Ethel Waters sang the song Dinah in 1926, which a Japanese performer under the stage name Dick Mine adopted from her and released in two languages, Japanese and Korean. For the latter, he even chose a Korean stage name, Sam Woo-yeol, which very much looks like a transliteration of Samuel. The swing jazz song became popular in Joseon as well, and since Dick Mine sang the Korean version without an accent, many believed him to be Korean; thus, it could happen that a Japanese person received fan letters from the colonized citizens of Joseon.

Dick Mine was likely a discovery of Okeh, and his popularity among Koreans also contributed to jazz songs becoming well-liked. His repertoire also included instrumental arrangements of four previously successful yuhaengga songs (such as Tears of Mokpo).






Another example of Korean versions of American songs: the song My Joyful Life (즐거운 나의 살림) was released in 1935, performed by Kwon Young-gil, which is originally an adaptation of Walter Donaldson and George A. Whiting's 1926 song My Blue Heaven. The composer of the rearrangement is Okuyama Sadayoshi, and the writer of the Korean lyrics is Kim Dong-jin.






Although urban youth were increasingly thrilled by jazz from the mid-20s onward, record production only started later. Nippon Columbia first released two Korean-language jazz songs in 1930, performed by Bok Hye-sook, titled I Miss You (그대 그립da/그대 그립다) and Jongno March (종로 행진곡). The reason for this is explained in two ways: on one hand, perhaps the publishers did not consider the demand for jazz songs in Joseon to be sufficient, and on the other hand, a reluctance due to the bad reputation of the jazz genre, which stood in contrast to the publishers' initial "popular education, uplifting the people" attitude. However, market interests soon prevailed, and from 1935, the release of jazz song records became continuous.

Now, examples of popular jazz recordings from the jazz singers and songwriters of the era follow, without claiming to be exhaustive. We have already encountered several of them in previous chapters, as they were at home in various musical genres as well.



Choi Myeong-ju (? - ?)


Choi Myeong-ju (Public Domain)




Among the earliest jazz songs written by Koreans is a composition by Yun Young-hu titled Night of Youth (청춘의 밤), which was released in 1933; it may well be the first published jazz song. Its singer was Choi Myoung-ju, who, like many contemporary female singers, was a Pyongyang gisaeng.







Kim Jeong-gu (1916-1998)



Kim Jeong-gu (Public Domain)



Kim Jeong-gu was already mentioned in the fifth part regarding Tears-Soaked Duman River, as well as in the previous part in connection with manyo. Now, his 1937 song Cry, Saxophone (울어라 쌕쓰폰) must be cited here, which is particularly jazz-associative due to the saxophone in its title and music, and often features as an example of Joseon-swing.







Park Dan-ma (1921-1992)



Park Dan-ma (Public Domain)


She was already singing on Gyeongseong radio at the age of 13 and made her record debut in 1937 with Victor Records. Her most famous hits in the '30s were I am 17 Years Old and Croaking Song (맹꽁이 타령). She remained popular even into the '50s, but when she married an American man, she moved to the United States. Upon her return, she continued her career from 1977 with the release of a solo album. She died in Los Angeles after refusing the blood transfusion necessary for her heart surgery due to religious reasons.


The song I am 17 Years Old (나는 열일곱 살이에요) was indeed sung by Park Dan-ma at the age of 17 in 1938. This is a medium-tempo, lyrical-sentimental song that mostly belongs among the yuhaenggas, yet strong jazz influences can be felt in its vocal style, melody progression, and instrumentation. The song's composer is Jeon Su-rin, and the lyricist is Lee Bu-pung.






With her hit from a year later, titled Frivolous Breeze (날라리 바람), we have already met above in connection with the drama Chicago Typewriter. Now, however, let us listen to the original version performed by Park Dan-ma. Unfortunately, the names of the authors are not known, but this song is once again an example of works showing multiple classification possibilities: this time, a new folk song is recolored with musical elements characteristic of swing. Besides the light, danceable melody, the word frivolous (날라리) in the title also refers to urban, bohemian entertainment.






Son Mok-in, Park Si-chun, and Kim Hae-song are considered the three main composer-performers of Joseon jazz. In fact, Hong Nan-pa also belongs among them, differing from them only in that the focus of his musical activities shifted to jazz for only a short time, whereas it accompanied the entire lifework of the others.

Unfortunately, it is also true for jazz records that many of them are lost, or can only be found in reconstructions pieced together from fragments due to poor quality. I have come across references to many songs for which I could not find an available, digitized version to listen to. Even though the aforementioned individuals wrote and sang hundreds of songs, I mostly encountered the mention of only one or two songs in the overviews of each genre. Fortunately, this brief introductory overview does not really allow for more presentations either, so these are the ones I will present as well.

We have already encountered the name of Son Mok-in several times in the previous chapters (Tears of Mokpo, The Shepherd Boy with the Hay Bale, Sing Sing Sing).



Son Mok-in (1913-1999)



Son Mok-in (Public Domain)

 

Son Mok-in’s real name was Son Deuk-ryeol, but he also used the stage names Son Andre, Yang Sang-po, and Im Won. He was born in Jinju; his father practiced traditional Korean medicine, so they lived in good circumstances. Son and the composer Moon Ho-wol (who will be discussed later) were cousins. During his school years, Son Mok-in became acquainted with Western music through a Christian youth organization of which he was a member. 
He studied piano in Tokyo, and he drew the attention of Okeh Records, for which he became the exclusive composer by 1934. Initially, he wrote songs for Go Bok-su, many of which became hits. His song Tears of Mokpo, performed by Lee Nan-young, was released in 1935 and brought him immense success. He graduated from the composition department of the Japan Higher Music School in 1936, and upon returning home, he introduced the swing jazz trend that was popular in Japan at the time. 
He developed the CMC Band (Choseon Musical Band), the exclusive orchestra of Okeh Records, into Joseon’s first swing band. For a short time, he became an exclusive composer for Columbia Records. In 1940, he founded the Son Mok-in Band, touring Japan and China with their stage performances. During the war period, he composed marches supporting the Japanese, and in February 1944, as a member of the 'Maesin Unit for Inspiring and Entertaining Industrial Front Soldiers' organized by the Maeil Sinbo, he performed in military supply factories in the northern Seoul (Gyeongin) region, thus being placed into the service of imperialist Japan's war machine. 
In 1947, he became the music editor for the HLKA radio station. He entered Japan illegally in 1951, from where he returned to Korea only in 1957. During this period, he engaged in composing film music. During the Vietnam War, he traveled to the front in 1965 to participate in the work of the front-line artist unit performing for the soldiers, which was organized by his son (Frankie Son). 
He emigrated to the United States in 1967, commuting between San Francisco, Seoul, and Tokyo, until he finally returned to Korea in 1982. Following this, the founding of the Sokin Music Center (1987), the Korea Music Copyright Association (1964), and the Korean Association of Songwriters (1989) is credited to his name. For his work, he received high state decorations.

 

I have already shown Son Mok-in’s 1939 recording as an example of jazz in the third chapter. Now, a bit more detail about the version of Sing, Sing, Sing heard here, which is sung by Son Mok-in. Furthermore, he not only sings but also demonstrates that he is skilled at scat singing. The well-known song was released in Benny Goodman’s arrangement in 1938, two years after the original Louis Prima recording. Song Mok-in’s version was released by Regal Records in 1939, accompanied by the label's own orchestra.

For those curious about the path leading to the Korean version of the song, the original recording made by Louis Prima in 1936 can be listened to here:


Then the famous, 8-and-1/2-minute version by Benny Goodman, featuring Gene Krupa on drums (a shorter, edited version of this was also made). The song was recorded in 1937 in Los Angeles:

1938 HITS ARCHIVE: Sing, Sing, Sing - Benny Goodman (original Victor version)


There is barely any time difference between the dates, meaning that the Eastern region followed musical novelties almost immediately. However, not automatically: the songs often appeared in their own arrangements; it can be heard here as well that Son Mok-in wrote new music to the familiar song. The instrumentation was done by that Ryoichi Hattori who is considered the pioneer of Japanese jazz.




 

The composition by Son Mok-in titled The Red Cuffs of the Port (항구의 불근[붉은] 소매) was released in 1940 by Okeh Records, the singer is Lee Nan-young, and the lyrics of the song were written by Jo Myeong-am.

The majority of the recordings were made by the singer traveling to Japan, where the current song was recorded accompanied by Japanese musicians. This recording, however, is believed to have been made in the only studio established in Joseon; therefore, the musicians heard in it are likely from Joseon, through whose playing we can thus gain an idea of the skill of Korean musicians as well.






On the website of Musicology, they write about the recording:

The guitar solo heard in the introduction and the second interlude can likely be considered the playing of Kim Hae-song, who played the Hawaiian (slack-key or slide) guitar excellently. At the same time, if we compare it with other recordings definitely originating from him, a slight difference can be perceived—the tone is similar, but the sense of rhythm and the melody progression differ. However, if this recording truly originates from him, then it is clear that he was particularly strong in music of this style.

The rhythm guitar does not seem to be a traditional instrument either: it might rather have been a steel guitar used for blues or a "gypsy swing" type guitar with a small soundhole. The fact that such instruments were used at that time is fascinating in itself. The clarinet solo heard in the first interlude is also of an unusually high standard (moreover, during the singing, it cleverly weaves in the arpeggios).

This song differs from the trot tracks fashionable at the time in that it is built not on a slow 2/4 rhythm, but on a fast-tempo 4/4 swing rhythm, with an emphasis received on every beat. Yet, the climax is Lee Nan-young’s singing. Her characteristic, slightly nasal performance style bounces snappily along with the rhythm; this playful tone could easily have stolen the hearts of young men of the era. Furthermore, the scat singing already encountered in her song Dream of the Sea (1939) also returns in it.

- : 이난영 – 항구의 불근(붉은) 소매 (Choi Yu-jun: Lee Nan-young - The Red Cuffs of the Port)



Park Si-chun (1913-1996)



Park Si-chun (Public Domain)


Park Si-chun was active in many different fields: he was a composer and multi-instrumentalist (guitar, trumpet, violin, saxophone), an actor, a producer, as well as a film and film score director. His real name was Park Soon-dong; his father managed a gisaeng training institution, where he, too, grew to love music at an early age. From 1929 onward, he debuted playing a new instrument each year. He was an extremely prolific composer, leaving behind around 3,000 songs, thereby earning the title "the root and pillar of Korean pop music." He composed primarily in the yuhaengga genre, but other genres were not foreign to him either. During World War II, he wrote pro-Japanese songs, which landed him on the list of collaborators. During the Korean War, he served at the Navy's public education bureau and wrote the war hymn Good Night, Comrade. From the '50s onward, he was active mainly in the film industry, composing numerous film scores. He was the first president of the Korea Entertainment Association, founded in 1961. Despite his pro-Japanese activities, he was the first to be awarded the Cultural Merit Medal by the government, and the first among entertainment industry composers to receive this recognition.

Next is the song Dream of the Sea (바다의 꿈), performed by Lee Nan-young, which was mentioned at the end of the previous quote and released on record in 1939. The song was composed by Park Si-chun, with lyrics written by Jo Myeong-am. This cheerful swing-style song is also known as Beach Scene, as its lyrics vividly evoke the sensual experiences of spending time at the sea, from the fashionable clothing of vacationers to the aroma of refreshing food and drinks and seaweed. Lee Nan-young also demonstrates that she is skilled at scat singing.






Listening to Park Si-chun's recordings, I did not really find other compositions evoking jazz, though it is characteristic of all of them that he applied Western-style instrumentation. However, an interesting recording surfaced, which is perhaps not the most typical of either his lifework or jazz, but is quite unique. It was released on the B-side of the Tears of Mokpo record in 1938—a Hawaiian guitar solo played by Dick Mine on electric guitar, while Park Si-chun accompanies him on acoustic guitar. The electric pickup has existed since 1931 and was first used precisely for a Hawaiian guitar, as the volume of acoustic guitars proved insufficient in jazz big bands. It is quite possible that this still came across as a novelty even in 1938.







The Husband and Wife: Kim Hae-song (1911–~1950) and Lee Nan-young (1916–1965)



A Lee Nan-young (1916-1965) - Kim Hae-song (1911- ~1950) házaspár



Both members of the couple are true giants of the music of the era. They had seven children who inherited their talent, and from them, two famous formations were born: the Kim Sisters and the Kim Brothers. I have already presented Lee Nan-young's life in the fifth part, so now I will write only about Kim Hae-song.

Kim Hae-song is his stage name; his real name is Kim Song-gyu. Nothing certain is known about his studies, but he stood out early with his musical talent. He joined Okeh Records in 1935 as a singer and composer, but he was also skilled in instrumentation, stage performance and directing, as well as conducting, and he played the guitar well. His compositions, like his performances, were full of humor and wit. Around 80 recordings of his own singing and 190 of his songs were released, many of which were banned. He was excellent at performing manyos and was also familiar with Western popular music, doing much for the naturalization of blues, jazz, and swing in Joseon. In fact, he is considered the precursor and starting point of first-generation jazz musicians. He married Lee Nan-young in 1936, for whom he wrote many songs, and they also sang duets together. Some descriptions refer to Kim Hae-song's difficult nature, claiming he was violent and dissolute—though his music is the exact opposite: playful and sophisticated. He also worked with the Victor and Columbia labels, but returned to Okeh, where he participated in the work of the performing troupe and was also a member of the band called Arirang Boys (together with Park Si-chun). Toward the end of the colonial years, along with his wife, he was forced into pro-Japanese activities (composing songs and organizing performances to entertain Japanese soldiers), but due to the recognition of their vulnerability, they were not included on the list of collaborators. After liberation, he became an executive member of the Stage Music and Dance Department of the Central Council for the Construction of Korean Culture. Following the death of Lee Cheol, he took over the Joseon Musical Company in 1944, and a year later established the KPK Orchestra, with which they mainly performed musicals. During the Korean War, he did not flee Seoul with his family, which resulted in him being abducted by the Northerners, though he was first allowed to return home. However, a few days later they came for him again, and his wife last saw him in prison, even then only from a distance. His further fate remains unknown; according to research, he was likely either executed in prison in October 1950, or lost his life in early 1951 in a North Korean labor camp or hospital.

In previous chapters, we have already heard some of Kim Hae-song's compositions, including the emblematic Oppa is a playboy, A Courtesan's Dream, the duets Telephone Conversation and Coming and Going, or the blues The Blue Dream of the Teahouse at the beginning of this chapter.

Now another duet follows, Emotional Day (감격의 그날), released in 1936, which is classified as a jazz song by genre. Its lyrics were written by Park Young-ho, and its music was composed by Kim Hae-song under the name Kim Soung-gyu, singing together with his wife, Lee Nan-young.






In 1938, Youth Class (청춘계급) was released, which already bears a social overtone in its title, as it can refer to the distinct "class" or life-feeling of the young generation, which, in the context of modern, urban jazz culture (the Joseon of the 1930s), could carry either an ironic or a self-identifying meaning. Classified into the group of yuhaenggas, the song was composed and performed by Kim Hae-song, its lyrics were written by Park Yong-ho, and the instrumentation is the work of Niki Takio. Yet, despite the different genre classification, the Chicago-style jazz song is regarded as one of Kim's representative jazz works.






An alloy of sharply sarcastic manyo and music influenced by swing jazz and foxtrot is The Dog-Meat-Eating Clerk (개고기주사), released in 1938, which caricatures a degraded yet pompous figure, a sort of urban street character. Composer: Kim Hae-song, lyrics: Kim Da-in.






The 1939 Save Me, Amitabha Buddha! (나무아미타불) is once again a recording classified among manyos, which its 4/4 swing rhythm and jungle drumming showing a Duke Ellington influence nevertheless decidedly turn into a jazz song. On this jazz foundation, the typical manyo melody resonates, with lyrics written by Kim Ta-in. The song pokes at those highly educated, modern people who nevertheless do not turn toward others with understanding, remaining conceited and arrogant. An interesting feature of the text is that it adopts concrete Buddhist phrases and implants them into a parodistic context, primarily to express outrage or astonishment (just as we might say, "Good heavens!"). The lines returning as a chorus:

"Avalokitesvara, Avalokitesvara...
Ten years of studying, namu amitabul."

In these, Avalokitesvara is one of Buddhism's most famous bodhisattvas, the embodiment of compassion, also known as the "one who perceives the laments of the world," while the meaning of namu amitabul is "Homage to Amitabha Buddha"—but here it is to be interpreted rather as an expression of agitation, similar to "God bless you!".







In the fifth chapter, we could already hear the couple singing a duet (Hesitation / 올팡 갈팡); now let us listen to another one by them. Youth Building (청춘삘딩) is a yuhaengga song written by Kim Hae-song, but like the former, it is characterized by Western-style instrumentation and a swing feeling. The performance of the duet requires a lot of humor and stage skills, as it uses urban slang (English words) from the jazz era to depict the settings and snapshots of city life, the morning greetings of employees arriving at the office building, and—no matter how clumsy they might be individually—their shared daydreams and flirtations, all embodied by the "youth building," which serves as a metaphor for a modern, cheerful, jazzy urban life.




 


On Kim Hae-song's extremely diverse musical palette, there is a peculiar song, the 1938 Tavern Scene (선술집 풍경). In terms of its genre classification, it is a new folk song, though it would fit better among the manyos. Its text is full of words that are now unknown and extinct, which were used to name contemporary foods, professions, and so on. The song is indeed a slice of life, about nothing more than what the common people gathered in the tavern are drinking and eating; the air is filled with shouts calling for another drink to be poured, and the whole song has a sort of tavern-buzz character. Yet, the strangest thing about it is that the tavern atmosphere is not relaxed and liberating, but gloomy and ominous, as if no one went there for recreation or friendly conversation, but only to forget the burdens of life for a few moments: "Oh, the taste of alcohol is good, good, good... The tavern is our paradise"—says the repeating chorus. To Park Yeon-ho's lyrics, Kim Hae-song wrote music in which the foxtrot sound paired with Western instrument use is distinct, featuring some syncopated rhythmics. The use of brass instruments is fascinatingly expressive, simultaneously conveying dazedness and wandering attention, and the deep melodic lines fall heavily upon the listener, just like the worries weighing them down. Kim Hae-song's singing is also magnificent, at once tipsy, slightly combative, and vulgar with hiccups and belches—while being infinitely sad. If I may express a personal note, this song is one of those that completely enchanted me during this journey through music history.








Moon Ho-wol (1908-1952)



Moon Ho-wol (Public Domain)


We do not know much about Moon Ho-wol’s life. He was born in Jinju and learned music in a self-taught manner, his main instrument being the violin. First, he played in performing troupes of the entertainment industry and in orchestras accompanying silent films, and then in 1927, he became a member of the orchestra accompanying the first broadcast of Gyeongseong Radio. He became famous as a composer from 1934, renowned primarily for his sin minyo songs that completely lacked the influence of Japanese enka.


Let us listen to one of his compositions in a 1940 recording by the Okeh Jazz Band, which is none other than the instrumental version of the song Kwanseo of a Thousand Miles (관서천리)—it is as if we were hearing only the accompanying music without vocals. (The original song, performed by Lee Eun-pa, can be found in Part 6.)






While in the previous chapter the vocal version was included in the selection as a characteristic example of sin minyo (new folk song), it is very interesting to observe what other features, more characteristic of jazz, we can notice in the composition alongside the musical solutions typical of new folk songs. It would be difficult not to perceive its groove character. While sin minyo arranges the originally rhythmically free folk song into a 4/4 rhythm, this order is made playful by the frequently heard syncopated pulsation and the shifting of accents, which evokes the influence of jazzy dance music (foxtrot, early swing). For music experts: the melody is of modal/melismatic origin, but a Western chord progression is placed underneath it, often built on I–IV–V triads (three-note chords). This is occasionally colored with seventh chords (dominant 7th, subdominant 7th), which is a typical jazz tool, albeit in a simplified form. Even if we do not understand these technicalities, we can be enchanted by the call-and-response play of the solo instruments. This question-and-answer logic is also a clearly jazzy influence, just like the alternating, improvisational sections, no matter how brief they may be. In the “bridge” part, there is also sometimes a short modulation or chord change that adapts to popular-jazzy song forms. Therefore, even if we do not get jazz as the main course, we undeniably taste the jazzy flavors.

The piece is also a fascinating example of how deeply the musical mother tongue of the Joseon musicians permeated Western instruments. Although it is actually the classic woodwinds of the jazz orchestra (clarinet, saxophone) playing on the recording, the musicians perform with such subtle inflections and vibratos that the ear involuntarily seems to discover the traditional sound of the piri or haegeum, and the pulse of the janggu in the background. This cultural resonance is precisely what makes the playing of the Okeh Jazz Band truly unique.


Summary of the Characteristics of Korean Jazz Songs

At the end of this brief journey into the jazz history of the colonial period, the question may inevitably arise: what caused this constant musical blending? What might still have been natural at the beginning should perhaps have matured by the late '30s so that jazz could detach itself from other contemporary genres, yet we see the exact opposite. We might suspect a lack of knowledge or training, but I think we can rule these out entirely, as contemporary Joseon musicians gave countless proofs that they were well aware of the history, genres, and styles of American jazz; even if they could only face Japanese musicians with difficulty due to their disadvantaged position, they still stood their ground gallantly.

The explanation may lie in two things, one of which is the consequence of changes brought about by history. In the annexed territories, strict censorship was one of the tools for securing power, which could equally affect lyrics and entire genres alike. The popularity of jazz actually exploded in 1935, with the majority of the albums appearing in the following few years. Japan, however, launched the war against China in 1937 and then entered World War II, which brought about the banning of cultural products tied to enemy powers; thus, from 1940, a total ban came into effect regarding jazz as well, meaning that from then on, the designation "jazz song" completely disappeared. Of course, this did not eliminate audience demand, and there continued to be a greater demand for popular music than for military marches.

Many of those dealing with the music history of the era have come to the conclusion that the mixing of genres could also have been part of a deliberately developed evasion-defense strategy. We could see that the instrumentation of the songs is almost always jazz-like, while the vocals mostly resemble one of the other genres (yuhaengga, new folk song, manyo). This multi-faceted nature made it possible to avoid the categorization of the compositions as jazz songs, as the individual pieces contained enough elements to allow for their alternative genre classification. With this, it could be managed to comply with the official ban while still serving the desires of the audience. At least for a while, because with the escalation of the war, not much living space remained for popular music as a whole, let alone jazz songs.

Finally, a thought-provoking peculiarity that requires further investigation: while the roots of jazz in America reach down into the most destitute social class, into the fate of those who experienced slavery, in Joseon, jazz became the music of the upper-middle class. And therein lies the irony of fate: because it was precisely this better-off layer that could not exist otherwise than by cooperating on some level with the colonizers. This is such an striking difference that it is impossible not to marvel at it. Although white youth in America also found the excitement of the music, among the people of Joseon I perceive some deeper resonance beyond what is continuously mentioned as the "modern life-feeling" conveyed by jazz. It was precisely Kim Hae-song’s Tavern Scene that reminded me that jazz is also capable of expressing the deep undercurrent behind the surface of modern life, clothed in a modern guise: the general, "blue" state of mind of the colonial fate. And what is still just a fleeting (and perhaps erroneous) thought in me: it is as if this phenomenon resembles what we see nowadays in the field of K-pop. To put it simply: the well-to-do youth of a wealthy society adopt hip-hop culture, including rap, which serves to state social passions without disguise—which originally was precisely meant to express the life-feeling of African Americans in New York who were excluded from the consumer world.

According to my plans, in the continuation, I will endeavor to review the situation of popular music from the beginning of the Sino-Japanese War to the end of the Korean War.



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14/10/2025

Excerpts from the History of Korean Popular Music [8]

Meanwhile, Jazz Plays Softly: The Korean Jazz Band (Part I)



The Korean Jazz Band, c. 1928 (Public Domain)



The history of the development of jazz can be traced back through the 19th-century history of the United States. The urban hubs of various regions mark the birthplaces of specific musical genres. Black slaves, primarily trafficked from West Africa, brought with them their own folk music, the blues, and numerous musical characteristics that defined their traditional music: work songs, hollers, call-and-response singing, blue note scales, rhythms, and more. Increasingly, many learned to play the instruments of white people—initially as a means of lampooning slave owners—but musical interactions were inevitable, and urbanization favored the emergence of unique musical styles. Inspired by military bands, brass instruments became the foundation of jazz, and under Latin American influence, percussion instruments were added, with New Orleans becoming the center of Dixieland music.

Black musicians, who initially acquired their musical knowledge through self-teaching, eventually gained access to classical European musical training; thus, folk-based ragtime already bore the characteristics of both musical worlds. Despite being trained musicians, African American players were excluded from established orchestras in 1890, and the resulting "released musical capacity" further fueled the birth of jazz. Building on similar musical foundations, cities like Charleston, Memphis, Saint Louis, as well as Chicago and New York, became centers of experimentation and development. Everything pointed toward the birth of an improvisational, variation-rich new genre whose name was still evolving: initially jass, it finally became standardized as jazz in the late 1910s.

Most of this music was inseparable from dance, numerous varieties of which were first presented in vaudeville and cabarets. However, especially after the Prohibition era of the 1920s, it quickly moved into the rapidly proliferating illegal dance halls, clubs, and speakeasies. These exciting new sounds captivated white musicians and young white socialites alike. The 1920s and 1930s are often called the Jazz Age, by which time Chicago had become the musical center.

Orchestras transformed: older instruments were replaced—the double bass instead of the tuba, the guitar instead of the banjo—and various saxophones appeared. The marching 2/4 rhythm of military bands gave way to a 4/4 beat, opening the door to an era infused with dance mania: the Swing Era arrived, and with it, the world of big bands. Jazz became a synonym for the modern lifestyle, sophistication, and decadence.

Jazz reached Joseon in the 1920s, meaning there was almost no time lag compared to the processes occurring in its original locations.


Pai Un-soung - Girl in Black Dress, 1930s (Public Domain)



However, an interesting question remains: how did Western music, in general, reach colonial Korea?

Once again, we must first mention the missionaries arriving in the Far East. Through them and the Westerners who followed in their wake, cultural content was showcased and made personally accessible to the locals (for example, Koreans first learned and sang church hymns this way). Interestingly, military relations also played a role in the introduction of Western instruments; the first such instruments arrived from the Russian Empire and later the German Empire as part of military cooperation.

A humorous anecdote has survived regarding this: Joseon and the German Empire signed a treaty of friendship and commerce on November 23, 1883. On this occasion, a German military band arrived aboard the ship SMS Leipzig. The band played at a ceremony in King Gojong’s court, and this was allegedly the first time Koreans heard Western music live. Their reaction was recorded by Rosalie, the wife of Paul Georg von Moellendorff, a foreign affairs advisor to the Joseon government: the guests sat waiting at the set tables because the Korean staff members were so surprised by the music that they forgot to serve the food.

Yet, only a few years later, we see that Emperor Gojong decreed the establishment of the Imperial Korean Military Band in late 1900, which officially began its work in 1901 when sheet music and fifty instruments were brought in from the German Empire, and the German musician Franz Eckert was invited to lead the band.



Although it cannot be fully confirmed, according to the caption, this is a group photo of the military band after a performance held in Tapgol Park on September 7, 1901, on the occasion of Mansuseongjeol (the Emperor's birthday). Bandmasters Franz Eckert and Kim Hak-su are visible in the center.
(Public Domain)



It is likely that the first instruments necessary for playing jazz (e.g., saxophones) arrived with this contingent, and it was in this band that the first Koreans learned to play them. Baek Woo-yong was appointed as the band’s second conductor.



Baek Woo-yong (1883-1930)



Baek Woo-yong (Public Domain)


Baek Woo-yong studied the clarinet. He enrolled in the Hanseong Deok German-language military school and then entered the Military Academy, where he became an infantry lieutenant. Meanwhile, he studied Western music under Franz Eckert. Between 1904 and 1907, he rose through the conducting ranks, but the band was unexpectedly disbanded. Afterward, he became the leader of a Western-style band operating under the General Staff of the Imperial Court. However, with the loss of independent statehood, the Japanese government finally disbanded this orchestra as well in 1915. He worked closely with the institution called Yi Wangjik Aakbu (the direct institutional ancestor of today’s National Gugak Center), which did much to preserve traditional Korean music during the colonial period; Baek's task was to transcribe aak (court and ritual music) into five-line staff notation. Some references suggest he also learned to play the saxophone, making him one of the first Korean saxophonists. In 1927, at the request of the Dansungsa Cinema, he formed an orchestra from former military musicians to accompany silent films—meaning these musicians had to be proficient in various genres, and it is likely they were inspired by jazz.


The process described above also highlights where the sudden influx of trained musicians, whom we see appearing in the entertainment industry during the colonial period, actually came from. During the Joseon dynasty, the "cream" of musicians belonged to the Jangakwon (장악원), an institution of the royal court that existed for 427 years and was responsible for all musical activities, from the training of musicians to performances at court ceremonies. In 1895, the institution was transferred from the Ministry of Rites to the Ministry of the Royal Household, and upon the proclamation of the Korean Empire in 1897, its name was changed to Gyobangsa (교방사). In 1907, it was renamed once again, becoming Jangakwa (장악과), while its staff numbers were drastically reduced.

Court musicians could only occupy the lower (6th to 9th) ranks of the official hierarchy, and their obligations were strictly regulated. After the annexation, however, the Jangakwon was abolished, and the musicians were disbanded. During the institution's heyday, more than a thousand musicians belonged to it; toward the end of the empire, during reorganizations, their number was first reduced to 782, and then to 305. Once their obligations disappeared along with their status, these highly trained musicians partly joined private institutions aimed at preserving traditional music, and partly found employment in the entertainment industry.

As can also be seen in the drama scenes shown in the first part, people in the meantime could experience Western dances, music, forms of entertainment, and customs. They could see travelogues (a genre that was also an invention of the era), and it has already been mentioned that the gramophone records sold in Joseon themselves were made by traveling an international route (recording in Japan, pressing in the USA, distribution in Joseon).

The "shrinking" of the world actually began as early as the beginning of the 19th century; with the explosive development of transportation, even the most remote regions became accessible—not only for adventurous explorers, but slowly for commoners as well. The wealthier, but mostly those whose business or professional interests required it, could already personally gain insight into the lives of other countries, and thus into their cultural customs. Personal souvenirs and commercial items changed locations, including sheet music, phonograph records, and musical instruments affecting the music industry. In parallel, contemporaries could experience another phenomenon never seen before: news and information were no longer merely the privileges of the socio-economic elite. Following the birth of the telegraph, technology made it possible to lay cables connecting continents; thus, the press was able to obtain and transmit news increasingly faster, even between continents. Soon, first local and then international news agencies were established. Radio broadcasting developed, and from the perspective of our topic, all this meant that everyone could be informed about the affairs of the world without a significant phase lag, and as a result, global mass cultural trends could already emerge.

It may have been the influence of the two great world expositions held there (1889 and 1900) that Paris appeared in Japanese and Korean advertisements as the center of the modern world, as the stronghold of the entertainment industry, and the home of fashion and jazz. This plays an important role in that during the Great Depression, many musicians from the USA toured in Europe, which helped, for example, swing become a global trend. But we are not yet at that time; for now, the only question is how Koreans became acquainted with jazz music. Along with the options above, the simplest answer is that it was through the Japanese, which is roughly true. However, how the path of jazz led to the Japanese is a story that is perhaps unknown to many.



“Crickett Smith’s Plantation Quartet” — Teddy Weatherford, Rudy Jackson, and Roy Butler.
Naresh Fernandes, Taj Mahal Foxtrot: The Story of Bombay's Jazz Age, Roli Books, 2012.



The spread of jazz in Asia occurred primarily through a network of port cities for passenger ships (Bombay, Calcutta, Delhi, Goa, Manila, Hong Kong, Kuala Lumpur, Penang, Batavia, Surabaya, several Chinese and Japanese cities, etc.). In all of these places, hotels equipped with stages and ballrooms were built, making them suitable for staging Western entertainment shows as well as hosting dance nights. African American jazz musicians became highly sought after, and their emigration to the region began. However, there were other actors who contributed to the spread of jazz: to understand this, a brief detour must be made to the Philippines, which was initially a colony of the Spanish who arrived in the wake of Magellan. However, the Spanish-American War that broke out in 1898 rearranged the map of colonies, and from 1901, the Philippines came under the control of the victorious Americans, although for a long time this could only be enforced through continuous warfare with resistors. Nevertheless, during this period, the Philippines became the American musical stronghold of the region. The Americans who arrived there delivered the current trends of jazz firsthand, and the Filipino populations living in America did the same. Filipino musicians not infrequently learned to play music in the USA, and due to direct musical contact, they became highly trained musicians in the region. At the same time, as indigenous people, they faced severe discrimination, which not infrequently resulted in them fleeing and settling in other Asian countries.



Filipino swing musicians in India in the 1930s
Naresh Fernandes: The forgotten story of a Filipino swing musician in 1930s India (Quartz, 2012)


The Japanese were particularly receptive, as they needed musicians in their hotels and on their ships, and especially so in their entertainment districts built up after the 1923 Tokyo earthquake, which is why they even recruited musicians. In addition, Shanghai was a major musical center, whose status became a designated foreign trade "treaty port" under the 1842 Treaty of Nanking, and it was full of nightclubs, bars, and dance halls.

Based on the contemporary history of the musical genres examined more closely so far—yuhaengga (early trot), sin minyo (new folk song), manyo (stage song)—it will surely come as a surprise to no one that when speaking of jazz, the very first observation is that we should by no means think of music in today's sense if we encounter this designation in Korean music prior to World War II. The reason is the same as what characterizes other contemporary genres: the simultaneously arriving Japanese and Western musical influences mixed with traditional local music formed, for the time being, only that mixture from which individual genre characteristics would later crystallize. Therefore, one should not be surprised that under the designation of jazz at this time, we can still encounter all Western music that might have sounded exotic to Korean ears, whether it was actually American, European, Latin, or Japanese music of any genre.

Two examples of other genres that can also be found among jazz songs: the first, Lee Nan-young's 1939 recording titled The Blue Dream of a Teahouse (다방의 푸른 꿈) is actually blues. Composer: Kim Hae-song, lyrics: Jo Myeong-am.






The second, Park Dan-ma's 1939 jazz song titled Broken Tape (끊어진 테프) is actually tango. Composer: Jeon Su-rin, lyrics: Kang Young-sook.



    


The word jazz appeared in the press for the first time in 1926; more precisely, even the transliteration of the word jazz (재즈) was uncertain for a while, and it was also used in the form of jass (쟈스 / 짜스). The term jazz band first appeared in contemporary articles in 1927, and the designation Korean jazz band followed in 1928.

Paul Whiteman’s orchestra played a major role in the general acceptance of jazz in America; his exclusive five-record album was also released in Japan, and through this, in the view of Taylor Atkins, the musical approach represented by Whiteman—which synthesized genres and styles—became defining for Japanese jazz. (Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Blue was also commissioned by Whiteman.) The Dong-A Ilbo also advertised this album in 1928, which is interesting because the Korean-language advertisement shows that jazz already had a purchasing audience in Joseon beyond the elite at that time.

By the end of the 1920s, jazzy influences had become completely common in the orchestration of songs, and then, following the American trend, the rhythm of swing took over dominance. While in America, swing was the music of energetic revival after the times of the Great Depression and Prohibition, in Joseon, it represented a more complex emotional range: on one hand, it expressed the joyful atmosphere of a modernizing, developing world leaving old times behind, carrying a kind of Western, American "feeling of freedom," yet at the same time, this music also belonged to the oppressors, as it arrived through the mediation of Japanese cultural policy. Because of this, it is ambivalent: uninhibited and modern, but still sounding within an occupied society. This complexity always appears in films and series set in this period of history: we mostly see entertainment venues where the youth of the modern generation mingle in places operated by or also serving the Japanese, making them simultaneously nests for both collaborators and resistance fighters. Swing always evokes a world in which the desire for freedom, secret resistance, and Western influence appear all at once. Just like in the drama Chicago Typewriter, where Lim Soo-jung sings the song La-di-da Wind (날라리 바람), which will be discussed later.





There is also some uncertainty regarding the date of appearance of the first Korean orchestra truly specializing in jazz music, for which the few surviving photographs and newspaper articles, as well as interpretative differences concerning contemporary orchestras, are responsible. It has been mentioned earlier that individual record companies (Columbia, Victor, Okeh, Nippophone, Nitto, Taepyung, etc.) also maintained performing arts ensembles, including orchestras. But movie theaters operated such ensembles as well, see the previously mentioned orchestra established by Baek Woo-yong. For some of them, however, based on the musical instruments visible in the photographs, it is difficult to judge precisely what genre of music they might have played, as some can refer to classical music just as well as to jazz. In newspaper articles, the names (Gyeongseong) Sunshine Jazz Band and Gyeongseong Jazz Band also pop up, but almost nothing can be known about these formations or their connection to the Korean Jazz Band. If a photograph only had "performance of the jazz orchestra, date" written on it, it was difficult to decide which one it could have been.

Therefore, we can encounter two versions regarding the time of birth of the Korean Jazz Band, which is considered the first Korean jazz orchestra. The first is contained in Kim Kyung-ok's novel published in 1964, titled "80 Years of Dawn: The Turbulent History of Modern Korea" (여명 80년: 한국 근대 풍운사), and it is from this that it spread generally—thus we mostly encounter this in encyclopedia entries, newspaper articles, and blogs—that the orchestra was established in 1926. Jang Yu-jeong, a professor at the Faculty of Humanities of Dankook University, however, published a study in 2025 titled "Korean Jazz Band: A Reconsideration of Its Formation Period and the Origins of Korean Jazz" (코리안재즈밴드: 결성 시기의 재검토와 한국 재즈의 기원), in which, supported by logical reasoning and documents, she puts the source materials in order, and as a result of this, it seems realistic that the debut of the first Korean jazz orchestra, the Korean Jazz Band, took place two years later, in 1928. Apart from this, the other elements of the story, which is not without fabulous qualities, are authentic.

The photographs giving cause for misunderstandings: among the images originally dated to 1926, the first and second were taken in the auditorium of Yeonakho (YMCA), and the third at the Gyeongseong Radio Station, which only began its operations in 1927. For the latter two, it is probable that their true date is 1928, and perhaps it is not the final formation of the Korean Jazz Band, but other lineups operating in 1926-27 that are visible in them (the trumpet player here is different from the later ones), although there is almost complete overlap among the musicians. The first image was indeed taken in 1926 and shows the orchestra of Yeonakho, which, despite the saxophone player, does not seem to be a jazz orchestra. And at the concert, they played a march whose original was the composition titled “On the Mall” composed by Edwin Franko Goldman, which is also not a jazz piece, but being Western music, it was also referred to with the collective name of jazz.


A band at Yeonakho [YMCA], (Public Domain)

A band at Yeonakho [YMCA], (Public Domain)

Perhaps the Korean Jazz Band at the Gyeongseong Radio Station (Public Domain)
From left to right:
Park Geon-won - trombone, Kim Sang-jun - drums, Choi Ho-young - violin, Hong Nan-pa - piano, Hong Jae-yu - banjo, Kim Won-tae - trumpet, Lee Byeong-sam - tuba, Lee Cheol - saxophone,
Baek Myeong-gon - saxophone




Baek Myeong-gon (? - ?)


Thus, jazz reached Joseon by the 1920s, probably from multiple directions, especially from Japan and China, but Shanghai played a special role. The spirit of modern times captivated many young people, among whom was a young man from a highly wealthy merchant family from Jeolla (his father, Baek In-gi's wealth rivaled that of the emperor), who was not interested in taking over the family business, but did not spare money for his hobbies. Baek Myeong-gon was passionate about two things: football and jazz. Neither of these was native to Joseon, but Baek changed the situation.



Baek Myong-gon (Public Domain)


Hardly anything is known about the biographical data of Baek Myong-gon, but it is certain that he was a true "modern boy," an athlete himself, a man who, thanks to his upbringing, was cultured and blessed with artistic sensitivity, and who did not disdain the female sex either. His wealthy background enabled him to act as a patron for his pastimes. First, he created the Joseon Football Team (조선 축구단) (which was the first domestic football team) in such a way that he paid salaries to the players he recruited, while moving them into his estate where they received training. He also took the team to Shanghai to test their skills (according to the first version in 1925, but according to subsequent reviews actually in 1928). Naturally, the team, which was not yet sufficiently prepared, did not achieve success, but this did not discourage Baek. Before heading home, he bought a bunch of jazz sheet music and instruments (banjo, saxophone, trumpet), and then at home, he set about organizing the first domestic jazz orchestra. Baek himself was also a trained musician, allegedly a member of the royal military band. He studied at the Tokyo Music Academy, played the mandolin and cello, and later learned to play the saxophone as well. Under pressure from his father, he went to Germany to study economics at Friedrich Wilhelm University (today's Humboldt University), although this did not last long. Yet even at this time, he was in artistic company, since his companion, Pai Un-soung (1900-1978), who was also supported by Baek In-gi, became Korea's first Western-style painter.
  

Pai Un-soung - Self Portrait, 1930 (Publid Domain)



Returning home from Shanghai loaded with musical instruments, Baek Myong-gon immediately contacted his old friend, Hong Nan-pa, who, along with his fellow musicians, began practicing on the instruments. Hong Nan-pa was primarily a classical musician; his contact with the genre of jazz seems more like an interesting excursion in terms of his life's work.



Hong Nan-pa (1897-1941)



Hong Nan-pa (Public Domain)


Hong Nan-pa (his real name being Hong Yeong-hu) was a composer, violinist, conductor, music critic, writer, and editor all in one person. As a child, he attended a private school and studied Korean classical music in the meantime. Since he was also baptized following his father, they were in continuous contact with foreign missionaries, so he became acquainted with Western music through the sacred music of his church. As a high school student in 1912, he enrolled in the Joseon Jeongak Training Center, which was the first professional musical institution established in the modern era; here he completed the vocal and then the Western music departments, after which he immediately started teaching at the institution. In 1918, he enrolled in the foundational year of the Tokyo National Music School, during the completion of which he founded and edited the journal Samgwang (삼광 - Three Lights) for Korean music-loving students studying there, which dealt with literature and fine arts in addition to music. Returning to Korea, he became a journalist for the Maeil Shinbo for a year, and performed in concerts in the meantime. His entrance exam to the Tokyo National Music School was unsuccessful in 1920, so he gave music lectures at the faculty of humanities of a local university, and then returned to his homeland in the very same year, where two of his novels were published in serials in the Maeil Shinmun under the titles Vanity (허영) and The Last Handshake (최후의 악수).

He established the private musical organization called Yeonakhoe (Music Study Circle) in September 1922, whose main profile was music education, but it also dealt with organizing concerts and publishing music collections. In April 1925, he launched the first Korean music magazine titled Music World 음악계(音樂界), and in addition to this, he published numerous children's song collections while also giving concerts as a violinist. The following year, he became a violin major student at a private higher education school in Tokyo, while playing in local symphony orchestras and even becoming a first violinist. After this, he continued concertizing in his homeland for two years and became the department head of the music section of the teacher training institution.



I feel that even if it has nothing to do with jazz, it is worth listening to a piece of his written for violin and piano, which was also released on record in 1936. The violin solo became famous under the title Joseoni Lament, and on this recording, he plays it himself. Whatever happened to Hong Nan-pa in the future, I feel that his true soul speaks in this melody.




 

Hong Nan-pa stayed in the United States from 1931 to 1933, where he obtained his bachelor's degree from the Sherwood Music School in Chicago and joined the Young Korean Academy (Hungsadan, 흥사단) headquartered there. Returning home, in addition to performing his official duties, he founded the Nanpa Trio, the first domestic chamber orchestra, with his nephew Hong Seong-yu and Lee Yeong-se. They operated for four years, which was brought to an end by the early death of Hong Seong-yu. In 1934, Hong became the musical director of the Victor Gramophone Company and taught for a year at the music department of Ewha Womans University.

In 1937, the Sino-Japanese War broke out, and at this time, the Japanese targeted Joseon civil circles to force them into showing loyalty toward them. In the action that became infamous under the name Suyangdongwoohoe Incident, the targeted organization had previously absorbed the Hungsadan, of which Hong was also a member. A total of 181 people were arrested, including Hong Nan-pa, who was brutally tortured during his 72-day detention. Due to the deterioration of his health, he was released in 1938 with a suspended sentence after writing an "Ideological Conversion" statement, and almost immediately appointed as the conductor of the Gyeongseong Central Radio Station orchestra. Still in that year, along with 18 of his companions, he joined a pro-Japanese organization, changed his name to Japanese, and composed numerous pro-Japanese songs. Also in 1938, his book containing anecdotes from the musical world was published, and in 1941, he was elected as a council member of the pro-Japanese Joseon Musical Association. 

Due to his activities serving the Japanese, after the liberation, his name was placed on the list of collaborators with the Japanese occupiers, but—as in the case of others—it is still debated to this day to what extent his decision can be considered voluntary or born out of compulsion. What is a sad fact, however, is that he died three years later, at the age of only 44, from the consequences of the torture he suffered.


We left off the story of the formation of Korean jazz where Hong Nan-pa practiced on the instruments brought by Baek Myong-gon with his fellow musicians belonging to the Yeonakhoe, and they decided to found an orchestra, for which they chose an English name: it was named Korean Jazz Band (코리안재즈밴드). According to the news in the Chosun Ilbo, the debut concert was held on April 7, 1928, and the formation, reminiscent of New Orleans bands, could have consisted of 9 members based on the picture published in the article. Most of the time, these names are mentioned in the captions:
                           
Baek Myeong-gon (백명곤) - 1. saxophone and organizer
Choi Ho-young (최호영) - violin
Han Wook-dong (한욱동) - trumpet
Hong Jae-yu (홍재유) - banjo (Hong Nan-pa's cousin)
Hong Nan-pa (홍난파) - piano, violin
Kim Sang-jun (김상준) - drums
Lee Byeong-sam (이병삼) - tuba
Lee Cheol (이철) - 2. saxophone
Park Geon-won (박건원) - trombone

In connection with a regional tour, 14 is written as the number of the arriving performing group. In one of the captions, Kim Won-tae's name appears as a trumpet player, and mention was also made regarding composer Moon Ho-wol that he played in the orchestra, so there were probably more musicians who perhaps took turns at individual performances.



The Korean Jazz Band, c. 1928 (Public Domain)

The Korean Jazz Band, c. 1928 (Public Domain)




Information cannot be found about everyone among the members of the orchestra, but independent entries can be read about a few of them on the Korean Wikipedia.



Park Geon-won (1904-1975)



Park Geon-won (Public Domain)


His father, Park Seung-ryong, was a representative of Cheondoism and an independence activist. As a high school student, Park Geon-won participated in the March 1st Movement of 1919. He entered the medical department of Gyeongseong Imperial University (Keijō Imperial University) as a member of its very first incoming class, graduating in 1930. During his university years, as a member of the university orchestra, he co-founded the Korean Jazz Band, playing the trombone. After graduating, he remained at Gyeongseong Imperial University's medical faculty, serving as a surgical assistant and teaching assistant while also conducting anthropological research. He was later appointed head of surgery at the Gangneung Provincial Hospital in Gangwon Province.

He was also an amateur photographer, and his award-winning works were featured in an exhibition in 1936. On September 22, 1938, he discovered a large-scale burial site from the Silla period in Gangneung.

At the end of the colonial period, he was drafted into the Japanese Air Force. After the liberation, he worked at the Joseon Bank, while participating in the work of the American military government. He was dismissed from the bank in 1947, and due to his alleged leftist views, the police also detained him for two weeks. In the same year, along with about ten of his companions, they established the Joseon Surgical Society. In this turbulent year, he was still appointed as the governor of South Jeolla Province, and then this was also withdrawn. In 1949, he became the director of the Chuncheon Red Cross Medical Center.

He participated in the Korean War as an officer, and as recognition, he received an American medal of merit. He rose to the rank of brigadier general in the Air Force, and in 1958, he became the deputy commander of the Military Police Command. In 1961, he became the president of the Lions Club, and then of the Korean Medical Association. In 1966, he was a founding member of the Korean Federation of Science and Technology Societies, and subsequently held the position of vice president.




Lee Cheol (1903-1944) 



Lee Cheol (Public Domain)

 
Lee Cheol (his real name being Lee Eok-gil) started working as a stage musician after high school, then managed a music publisher, and hosted festivals and competitions. He enrolled in the Department of Commerce at Jonhui College, where he participated in the creation of the school's orchestra. Following his contract with the Japanese Teichiku Records, he established the company's Gyeongseong sales office in 1933, changing its name to Okeh Records. This became the first record company managed by Koreans in Joseon, and the discovery of numerous Korean songwriters and singers is credited to Lee's name, who operated it until 1937. Meanwhile, he organized the Okeh performing ensemble and its performances in Japan. Okeh was the only label that possessed a recording studio in Joseon and manufactured gramophone records locally. The Japanese parent company ultimately did not look upon this favorably, and with the reorganization of the firm, Lee was made to resign from his leadership post. 
Lee then concentrated on the performing group, changing its name first to Okeh Grand Show, and then to Joseon Akgeuk Troupe. The troupe's performance series achieved great success in Tokyo in 1939, after which a bold statement by Lee Chol drew retaliation. Lee said this: "These kinds of getas (meaning: figures wearing geta sandals) cannot defeat us Koreans." ("Getas" was a pejorative, mocking contemporary designation for the Japanese.) The police kept him in detention for 20 days, after which he was placed under close surveillance. Following another Japanese tour, the troupe also performed in China and Manchuria, and Lee put together several performances that possessed strongly pro-Japanese content. Yet changing his name to Japanese did not bring greater freedom for Lee either. From 1941, he was appointed to various leadership positions, and he could perform his activities only by serving Japanese militaristic interests. His death occurred unexpectedly due to blood poisoning in 1944.


The Korean Jazz Band also embarked on a national tour with the sponsorship of the Joongang Ilbo, where Baek Myeong-gon worked as an advisor and also wrote: the first jazz critique in Korean history originates from his pen. They visited nine cities, and with the proceeds of their performances they served a charitable purpose, supporting evening schools with them.

Strangely enough, no record recording was made with the Korean Jazz Band, therefore we cannot hear in what manner they actually played. Reconstructing their repertoire is not easy either. They primarily played instrumental music, but here and there one can read about the cooperation of guest singers as well. Among these, an important name arises, which, if he was truly connected to jazz music, is a real curiosity: Lee In-seon, namely, was the pioneer of Korean opera.




Lee In-seon (1907-1960)



Lee In-seon (Public Domain)

 
As a high school student, he learned to sing and play the piano from an American missionary, then obtained a medical degree and began his practice. Between 1934 and 1937, he studied in Milan, and returning home, he gave concerts in Seoul, Tokyo, and Chingtao, China. Even though he was mentioned as the greatest tenor of the East, this was not enough to make a living from singing, so he continued his medical activities as well. At the end of 1946, he founded the National Opera Company, in 1948 Verdi's La Traviata was presented, and then Bizet's Carmen in the following year. While they performed with Carmen in several places, thus in Hawaii as well, Lee conducted research at the Nashville State Hospital. As the first Asian, he passed the audition of the New York Metropolitan Opera in 1951, but due to financial difficulties, he postponed his performance. Unfortunately, it never took place. He continued his medical activities and musical studies in parallel for a while longer, but while preparing for the first rehearsal, exhaustion and a previously contracted liver disease led to his death.


I would have gladly listened to Lee In-seon's voice, but despite a record recording allegedly being made with him in 1936, I found no digitized trace of it.



One of the costumed performances of the Korean Jazz Band in 1928 (Public Domain)



Since the press continuously reported on the performances of the Korean Jazz Band, we can most easily gain a picture of the reception of jazz from these writings, which, naturally, was not uniform. Most of the time it was surrounded by enthusiastic adoration, often described as a kind of ecstatic experience. The writing titled "Jazz Taste, Beyond Theory" in the JoongAng Ilbo on July 30, 1928, gave a vivid account of its effect on the audience:

„Jazz is the music that is currently in fashion all over the world, and the ‘Korean Jazz Band’ performing tonight, as we have already presented earlier, is considered one of the most excellent orchestras in the East with a full jazz lineup. The atmosphere of jazz is lively and sparkling; even the most melancholic person cannot restrain themselves from dancing when they hear this music. For this very reason, this music can be consumed and enjoyed even by those who become gloomy suffering from the troubles of daily livelihood, or those who usually just yawn at boring concerts and balls—they too can move to this as a new, fresh dance music. It is precisely in this that the reason lies why this music has spread all over the world. Whether someone likes this music or not is just like asking the people sitting in the tavern whether wine is useful or harmful to man—which is to say, a completely meaningless question.”


Conservative critics, naturally, gave voice to their devastating opinions, not infrequently with a pen dipped in vitriol. The following excerpt originates from Yi Seo-gu, who, despite being one of the pioneers of modern Korean theater and urban popular culture (playwright, theater director, journalist, cultural critic), still formulated his views on the enjoyment of jazz very contemptuously in the 9th issue of 1929 of the Byeolgeongon magazine. In the writing, a traditionally medical, but highly derogatory term, jiral (지랄) appears. Originally referring to the uncontrollable convulsions of an epileptic seizure, the author weaponizes this word to describe the 'frivolous thrashing' of the dancers, contrasting it with the value of Confucian self-discipline: 

"It is called a jazz band when someone, in the intoxication of rhythm, forgets all dignity and propriety, and thrashes with their body, hands, feet, and even their nose as if they were completely delirious, according to their own pleasure. The root of the passion for jazz thus stems from the jazz band itself, and by now, this end-of-the-century, shoulder-shrugging, frivolous atmosphere permeates our big city, Gyeongseong as well—this is a visible fact. Whenever the “Korean Jazz Band,” this excellent orchestra performed, the young men and women whose blood boils with passion always welcomed them with immense enthusiasm.
(…)
Words like 'propriety' or 'discipline,' the mere hearing of which makes the chest tighten, mean nothing to these people. They just return to a state similar to the hearts of the natives living in the 'shade of banana trees,' and self-forgetfully, losing all their consciousness, throw themselves into dancing and entertainment."

Yet, the incomprehension of many mattered little; by the mid-1930s, jazz had become an overwhelming musical phenomenon, an achievement in which the Korean Jazz Band—operating from 1928 to 1932 as the genre's first Korean custodian—undeniably earned imperishable merit. As a bridge between tradition and modernity, as well as between the West and Joseon, the orchestra possesses significant cultural value and can be considered a pioneering example that laid the foundations for jazz to take root in the Korean popular music scene.

Reaching the end of this chapter, I find it particularly painful that we cannot hear the Korean Jazz Band play. Perhaps when time travel becomes possible, we can go back to their performances. Until then, we can only live with what our present offers us, which in some aspects is no less futuristic. One can think all sorts of things about artificial intelligence, but for me, it is always moving when we can travel into the past with its help and see, for instance, former grand structures that today exist only in ruins. In their Time Machine series, the South Korean studio Sangsang Gongjakso undertakes the task of restoring the crackling and popping sounds of the past to make them enjoyable for today's ears; we could already hear one of their recordings in the previous part (Kim Jeong-gu: A Bachelor's Petition).

Now, however, I have come across another of their experiments: they used the capabilities of AI not only to enhance the audio tracks and fill in their missing parts but also to create visuals to accompany them. We could say it is often clumsy, as the rhythm of the images and the music is nowhere in sync (by their own admission, they did not strive for this). Yet, the evocation of the contemporary dance hall radiates the creators' respect and love for their musical past, which completely captivated me as well. The song, performed by Kim Hae-song, is Youth Class, which will be discussed further in the next part, making the video an excellent transition into the diverse world of Korean jazz songs.






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