Indeed, it was the cultural exchange with China that directly resulted in the first incarnation of A'ak. But it was not until centuries later (during the lengthy reign of King Sejong), in an effort to help fend off Buddhism (or at least maintain elements of Confucian identity), that the genre was basically reinvented and peaked in its popularity. According to Hwang (translated by Killick):
"In that period, numerous scholars strove to revive the ceremonial music of China's ancient Chou dynasty, and eventually a new aak was created and performed as a successor to the ancient Chinese tradition. It was a great and laborious work, since no contemporary model was available and many Chinese literary sources had to be consulted. Almost 600 years later, this revived version of ancient Chinese ritual music is still performed unchanged...In the traditional music performed today in China, there is nothing resembling Korean court music...[A'ak] was at one and the same time the most Chinese and the most un-Chinese of musics." (4)
Ultimately, this presents us with somewhat of a paradox. Here was (and still is) a music that is completely based on upon ancient Chinese musical traditions yet is performed exclusively in Korea and considered to be uniquely "Korean." Can we therefore comfortably assign it to a particular nation or culture? While fascinating, perhaps this is the wrong question to ask. As I discussed in my earlier post on the Buena Vista Social Club, classification of "authentic" culture is nearly impossible due to the impacts of cross-cultural influences. It is important to study any tradition under the light of all its influences. In this case, we simply have a hybrid of music that - while considered as a uniquely Korean creation - is unmistakably related to music from all over East Asia, especially China.
a Korean court ensemble (photo courtesy of Dr. Robert Garfias
The Recording
The first two tracks are excruciatingly similar, both examples of A'ak. Each consists of a 32-note melody divided into eight groups of four. Levy explains in the liner notes that they are actually based on old Chinese hymns, with each note of the melody corresponding to what used to be a sung syllable. The orchestra director begins each piece by playing his pak (a kind of clapper). After a brief percussive introduction, the melody begins, played by all the available melody instruments: pyeonjong (sixteen bronze bells), pyeongyeong (sixteen stone chimes or slabs, pictured below on the right courtesy of Wikipedia), hun (ocarina), chi (cross flute), chok (notched flute), and yak (another notched flute). The second piece also includes two zithers (the komungo and the kayagum), although they are very difficult to make out underneath the chimes and bells.
In general, the aesthetic quality of these pieces is astonishing. Hwang describes A'ak as "true to the musical aesthetics of Confucianism...subdued, slow, and simple in form" (4). That is undoubtedly the case here. Tempos are excruciatingly slow, with approximately four seconds between each note change. According to the liner notes, "the bare melody, played on the bronze bells and stone chimes, may be compared to the basic ingredients of a cooked dish, and the ornamentation provided by the wind instruments to the seasoning." This description - apparently given to Levy by the director of the ensemble - is particularly interesting because (to my ear) the wind instruments sound far more prominent than the percussion. While the timbre of the bells and chimes allows them to ring for only a limited time, the wind instruments can hang on each note, shifting pitches. Of course, the pitches are somewhat ambiguous in general, as the wind instruments glide between pitches constantly and are seemingly quarter-tones apart.
I roughly transcribed the melody of the second piece on the disc, "Song-An Chi Ak" or "First Wine Offering." Take a look at this transcription (Fig. 1). For the most part, the piece is played in something resembling a "major" pentatonic scale, with a Western F acting as a kind-of tonic note. However, since the wind instruments are all slightly out of tune, any "tonic" would be more like an assortment of notes (something like E-half-sharp, F, and F-half sharp). In the
transcription, you will also see that I included parentheses around a few of the notes. These are to denote notes outside the pentatonic scale. However, these may be simply so out of tune that they sound like they are outside of the scale. Since the wind instruments are loudest, they make these notes more ambiguous, whereas I suspect we would hear more clarity with just the bells and chimes.
Structurally, the barrel drum (the larger jingo on the first piece and the jeolgo on the second) signifies the end of each "measure" or group of four notes. My transcription notes these with Xs. The first piece also includes a Chuk (trough or wooden-box-like-idiophone) which is struck five or six times along with every melody note. At the end of each piece, like the beginning, the director plays his clapper.
Moving onto the third piece of the recording, "Nagyang-Ch'un" or "Springtime in Lo-Yang," we begin to hear Dangak court music. Another import from China, Dangak Confucian musical qualities remain excruciatingly similar to A'ak. Tempos are slow, notes are long, and everything is slightly out of tune (although less so than in the opening pieces). Those heard here are the dangjeok (small flute), piri (cylindrical oboe), haegeum (vertical, two-stringed fiddle), and ajaeng (bowed zither), another barrel drum, and a return of the bells and stone chimes.
As with the A'ak pieces, the melody is once again based around syllables, played on the bells and chimes with the other instruments providing similar ornamentation, although here they play more notes between the melodic percussion. The barrel drum helps provide structure, this time a bit less predictable than with the A'ak. Levy writes in the liner that the melody is based on China t'zu poetry. "A characteristic of the t'zu form," he continues, "is the irregular metre of the lines. This irregularity can be heard." Hence, this would account for the different feel in the barrel drum.
"Sujech'on," the lengthy fourth track, is an example of Hyangak, considered to be the genre of Korean court music least influenced by China. Minus the bells and chimes and plus a daegeum (long bamboo flute), it has basically the same instrumentation as the Dangak piece. While the tempo and use of the barrel drum are relatively similar to the first few tracks, the melody here is presented relatively differently. For the first time, we hear multiple parts among the melody instruments. Although they do land on many of the same notes, there is often distinct difference between the fluttering flute lines and the blaring oboe. Levy notes that "the oboes lead with the melody and are followed in a sort of cannon by the flute, the fiddle, and the bowed string-zither." He also mentions possible origins: "The melody bears a remarkable resemblance to the elaborate (Chissori) style of Buddhist changing known as Pomp'ae and the rhythm is not similar to any other Korean court music."
Especially among the winds, the dynamics in "Sujech'on" are worth discussing. With extreme care and delicacy, the flautists and oboists slide and glide around their notes beautifully, adding a combination of tremulous vibratos, loud shrieks, and calm whispers. From a listener's perspective, it is undeniably powerful. The fact that this instrumentation is more "in tune" than on earlier tracks makes it even more appropriate for Western ears.
The fifth track actually consists of two short instrumentals (each lasting roughly one minute), both duets of daegeum (the long bamboo flute) and komungo (pictured here courtesy of Wikipedia). Again, we can certainly hear many Confucian aesthetic principles, especially in the use of space between notes and the delicate balance between the two instruments.
In particular, the komungo has a fascinating history, as it may be a distant kin of the ancient Chinese guqin. Legend has it that long ago, a Korean official essentially re-designed an ancient seven-string Chinese zither, presumably the guqin (aka qin). Strange, therefore, is the number of differences between the two. Most significantly, the komungo is plucked using a bamboo stick (suldae), which is held between the player's fingers almost like a paintbrush. On the contrary, the qin is usually played without plectra (unless you include long fingernails). As Hwang points out, "The qin and the [komungo] have little in common either in their structure or playing technique except that both are string instruments played in a horizontal position." What Hwang later concludes, however, has more to do with the conceptualization of the instruments' use:
"In those days when music was no mere source of pleasure but a governing principle of the country itself, a musical instrument likewise was more than a tool for making sound. The Chinese qin was played not for personal amusment but for the cultivation and edification of the character. This aesthetic concept of the ancient qin has dominated the aesthetics of the Korean ruling class...right down to modern times: all that changed in Korea was that the komungo replaced the qin." (3)
More generally speaking, there are many parallels between various East Asian instruments, and Chinese counterparts are apparent for many of the Korean instruments heard on John Levy's recording alone. Just to name a few, the daegeum is similar to the Chinese dizi, the haegeum is similar to the Chinese er-hu, and the pyeonjong and pyeongyeong are similar to the Chinese bianzhong and bianqing, respectively. Undoubtedly, many of these instruments were simply tweaked according to Korean culture (either immediately or gradually) after being brought directly from Japan. In the case of the bells and chimes, they are almost certainly direct relatives of the Chinese counterparts given in the early 12th century.
The sixth, seventh, and eighth tracks on Levy's recording are all lyrical songs, and according to Levy, "not strictly speaking a part of the Korean Court repertory." Hong Wonki, the equivalent of a Western tenor, sings the sixth and seventh pieces. Especially on the latter, we hear many parallels between his vocal interpretation of melodies and the instrumental melodies on previous tracks; notes are relatively lengthy and Hong's style is laden with masterful vibratos and pitch-bending. Often, his notes sound just a touch out of tune, resulting in a feeling similar to that of the initial A'ak pieces. Trying to hit some notes that are clearly below his range adds to this even more.
The accompanying ensembles on both tracks sung by Hong consist of komungo, kayagum, piri, daegeum, haegeum, a changgo (an hour-glass-shaped drum widely used in much of Korean music) and a tanso (small notched flute). While both pieces are played and sung in a key/mode that is virtually identical, their tempos are significantly different. This helps underline the subject matter; the (comparatively) awkwardly up-tempo sixth track speaks of emotional confusion and distress after a broken relationship, while the painfully slow seventh track recounts a 17th century attack and siege of a Korean fortress by the Manchu Chinese. During this, the Korean king was actually forced to give up his own sons as hostages. According to Levy's notes, "Two princes were sent to Mukden as hostages. The elder, Prince-Pong-nim, wrote this song on the way."
The eighth track, "Sijo," features a female vocalist, Miss Chi Whacha. The accompanying instrumentation is also more sparse, with just daegeum, tanso, haegeum, and changgo. Pertaining to the genre, Levy points out, "In principle, only a drum and a flute are used in the accompaniment." This makes sense, as the daegeum plays a much bigger role than the other melody instruments - which are used more for ornamentation. Additionally, the singing style includes the oft-ignored female falsetto (called "chirum" in Korean). While this goes unnoticed in much of Western music, here it is very obvious: Miss Chi Whacha is the equivalent of a Western alto, so her jumps to high registers result in total climactic shifts.
The ninth track, according to the liner, is an excerpt of Ch'wit'a, "a processional music...played in the Inner Court." Meant to be marched to, the music is noticeably more fast-paced than any other instrumental music on the recording.
Thought of in a 6/8 time signature at roughly 155 beats per minute, two drums (the low-pitched jwago barrel drum and the changgo) share a simple and consistent rhythmic pattern throughout the excerpt (see Fig. 2). Melodic instrumentation here consists of daegeum, piri, haegeum, and dangjeok (another bamboo flute). Like "Sujech'on," the Ch'wit'a excerpt features a more complicated melodic structure. While the instruments share a common melodic contour throughout the piece, their parts are significantly different. A basic melody exists, but each instrument seems to be playing a slight variation of it. For instance, the flautists flutter above the rest of the instruments, adding feathery Sousa-like ornamentation.
Finally, the last track is simply a recording of both the pyeongyeong and pyeonjong (respectively) percussionists demonstrating each of their sixteen notes. Levy explains in the liner notes:
"As these instruments are seldom heard, I asked the musicians to play them by themselves. The stone chimes are suspended on a wooden frame which stands on wooden geese, the bronze bells on a wooden frame on wooden lions. They progress chromatically from lower right to lower left and then from upper left to upper right, from C to D sharp in the higher octave."
It is a peculiar way to close out the recording, but a helpful learning tool for listeners, providing a better understanding of the range of these important instruments.
Sources
Hwang, Byungki. (20 October 2001). "Korean Music and its Chinese Influences." Address presented at the 2001 Hahn Moo-Sook Colloquium in the Korean Humanities, George Washington University. Translated by Killick, Andrew. Retrieved 21 September 2009, from http://www.gwu.edu/~eall/special/HMS-2001.htm.
Levy, John. Liner notes, Korean Court Music. Lyrichord Discs, 1993.
Provine, Robert C. (20 October 2001). "Music, Measurements, Pitch Survivals, and Bell Shapes in Korea." Address presented at the 2001 Hahn Moo-Sook Colloquium in the Korean Humanities, George Washington University. Retrieved 21 September 2009, from http://www.gwu.edu/~eall/special/HMS-2001.htm.
Wikipedia
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