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Jo Chung-ik’s Traditional Fans Functional Works of Art |
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2048 |
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| Author/Position |
Park Hyun Sook |
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| Photographer |
Ahn Hong-beom |
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Jo Chung-ik’s Traditional Fans Functional Works of Art
Traditional Korean fans include round and folding types, with the round fan boasting a longer history and greater variety. In the city of Jeonju, the home of Korean fan making, master fan maker and Jeollabuk-do Intangible Cultural Property No. 10 Jo Chung-ik has been busily carrying on the legacy of crafting round fans for the past 30 years, which includes his creation of more than 100 new designs.
Park Hyun Sook Freelance Writer | Ahn Hong-beom Photographer
“A fan is not simply a tool to cool yourself off. For that matter, an air conditioner is far more effective, but a traditional fan can cool down your feverish heart. Everyone has a childhood memory of how their mother would gently fan them as they took a nap on her lap. The refreshing coolness of her loving hand was there to guide you throughout your life.”
In Korea, where 70 percent of the land area is covered with mountains, the alignment of mountain ranges has been a key factor behind the development of regional characteristics. In the Jeolla-do provinces, a rich agricultural area in the southwestern region of the peninsula, vast expanses of plains roll out to the sea along the western and southern coasts. A number of art forms have originated in this region, which is also the birthplace of pansori, Korea’s unique opera-like narrative that features a solo performer. Known as “the sound of Korea,” this indigenous music form epitomizes the Korean cultural sensibilities of the past.
While walking along a country road in the Jeolla-do provinces, you might come across an elderly person who could sing passages from “The Song of Sim Cheong,” at your request. The mild climate of this region made it ideal for the growing of bamboo, which enabled the area to become the center of bamboo-craft production in Korea. The coolness of a bamboo surface provides a sense of relief on a hot summer day. The practical applications of bamboo include the bamboo curtain hung in the doorway that deflects direct sunlight, while allowing a cool breeze to circulate, the jukbuin, or “bamboo wife,” which helps you to doze off on the most humid summer nights, and the bamboo sleeve frames that keep your clothing ventilated.
A fan made of durable mulberry paper and a bamboo frame has long been indispensable for countering the summer heat. In Chinese, fan is written as seon (扇), while a master fan artisan is referred to as seonjajang (扇子匠). During the Joseon Dynasty (1392-1910), a Seonjacheong government agency was established in Jeonju, Jeollabuk-do Province, to oversee the production of fans, as a result of the city’s reputation for making such exquisitely crafted traditional fans. Jo Chung-ik, 63, an acclaimed fan maker based in Jeonju, has been designated Jeollabuk-do Intangible Cultural Property No. 10.
Round Fans
Traditional Korean fans include round and folding types. A round fan, which is made by affixing mulberry paper or silk to a circular frame of bamboo strips, is known by various names including banggu buchae, danseon, and wonseon. On the other hand, a folding fan, which is known as jeopseon or jeopcheopseon, is made by attaching mulberry paper to a foldable frame of bamboo strips. In ancient times, Korean-made fans were highly esteemed for their refined craftsmanship, and often presented to foreign envoys as state gifts. After Korea developed the techniques for making folding fans, during the Goryeo Dynasty (918-1392), this technology was transmitted to China and Japan.
The round fan, which boasts a longer history than the folding fan, varies widely in the shape of its frame and decorative treatment, for which each type has its own name. For example, taegeukseon features a taegeuk symbol at its center, while oyeop¬seon resembles the shape of a paulownia leaf, and pachoseon that of a plantain leaf. Semiseon is characterized by an intricate frame made with thin bamboo strips. The surface of a suseon is embellished with decorative embroidery, while the yunseon looks like a wheel with spokes. The surface of a hwangchilseon is coated with sap of the yellow lacquer tree, which produces a golden sheen and a subtle fragrance. Of note, the daewonseon is so large in size that it needs to be held with two hands. Jo Chung-ik, a master artisan of traditional fans, was born and raised in Jangsu, Jeollabuk-do Province. His career as a fan maker got underway in Jeonju, at the age of 29, when he completed his first fan.
Taegeuk Symbol
“Before I took up fan making, I sold souvenirs to tourists at Gwanghallu Pavilion in Namwon. I made small folding screens with folk paintings that depicted scenes from ‘The Story of Chunhyang.’ One day, a taegeukseon caught my eye among a variety of souvenirs. This handcrafted item, which was so highly valued in the past that it would be presented to the king on the Dano festival, had become such a junky souvenir. The sloppy rendering of the symbol disturbed me to no end. I thought to myself: ‘Big or small, expensive or cheap, a beautiful Chun-hyang should be portrayed as a graceful girl, not a vulgar Wol-mae or Hyang-dan.’ So, I created a standard design for this enduring symbol. Until then, the symbol’s three sections were roughly apportioned by eye, so the size of each section was not always consistent. But the geometry-based sections of my standard design produced an artistic appearance that pleased me greatly, and others admired the stylish look as well,” explained the artisan, whose passionate expression was much like that of a pansori performer.
Jo Chung-ik rose to prominence as a master fan maker thanks to his artistic design of the traditional three-section taegeuk symbol, in which the blue, yellow, and red colors represent heaven, earth, and humans, respectively. Koreans can vividly recall the colorful taegeukseon that Korean athletes waved so joyfully during the opening and closing ceremonies of various international sporting competitions, including the 1982 New Delhi Asian Games, 1986 Seoul Asians Games, 1988 Seoul Olympic Games, and 2002 FIFA World Cup. These fans were the products of Jo’s hand.
“While I was making taegeukseon fans, a whole new world of traditional fans opened itself up to me. Tracking down their fading traces, I started to re-create the styles of ancient fans. Unlike most holders of the Intangible Cultural Property title, I did not learn from just one teacher. Rather, each time when I tried to make a specific type of fan, I sought out an expert to learn the related techniques. In this way, I re-created traditional fans, one after another, including oyeopseon, pachoseon, semiseon, and daewonseon. Then, I attempted to make entirely new fans with different shapes and decoration. I used fine strips of bamboo to depict folk-painting motifs, such as flowers, birds, and fish. I also made the world’s largest fan, which measures 270 centimeters wide and 420 centimeters long, as well as the world’s smallest, of 2.5 centimeters by 5 centimeters. I also made a fan that opened like a peacock’s tail, which required some 8,000 bamboo strips for the frame.”
Renovation of Tradition
Jo Chung-ik’s Jukjeon Hand Fan Workshop (Jukjeon Sunjabang) can be found in Daeseong-dong, Wansan-gu, Jeonju. Based on his penname Jukjeon, meaning “bamboo fields,” the workshop is where he spends his time making fans, both reproductions of ancient fans and his own original creations. He says with a bemused smile: “It’s not a studio, nor a showroom. But it’s quite cluttered, isn’t it? This ambiguity might be what the poet Yun Seon-do alluded to in his ‘Songs on Five Friends,’ which goes: ‘Neither a tree, nor a plant / What makes you so straight / Why are you so empty within? / Green in all seasons / You’re my adorable friend.’” The walls of his 165-square-meter workshop are covered with all manner of fans of various types and shapes, along with mounds of partly finished works and materials lying all over the place.
Especially striking are the countless books stacked high in piles. From ancient Korean books of centuries ago, such as the Anthology of Korean Literature (Dongmunseon), compiled by the Joseon Dynasty court official Seo Geo-jeong, and Jehol Diary (Yeolha ilgi), a travelogue by the scholar Bak Ji-won about his visit to China, to illustrated books on Korean painting, Korean and Chinese dictionaries and philosophy books. This library section looks much like a typical store for used books.
“My father studied the Chinese classics. I was his youngest son, born when he was 40. He taught me how to read Chinese characters even before I entered elementary school, but curiously, he started me out with the poetry of Tao Yuanming, instead of the basic textbook, Cheonjamun [One Thousand Character Classic]. In elementary school, he asked my teacher to allow me to skip the first grade, and start with second grade. Looking back, I feel it was my father’s way of showing his love for me. Unable to read and write in Korean, I was bewildered to be in the second grade, but even that did not last very long. My family was so poor that I had to give up school in the fifth grade.
“Although I did not have much education in school, my love for books, which resulted from my father’s influence, has brightened my life. While I was making fans for a living and began to feel somewhat stifled, I read A Korean History from a Spiritual Perspective by the religious scholar Ham Seok-heon. The book helped me to realize that I had come to regard my job as mainly a means of ma¬king a living. If you create something there should be meaning in your work, but I produced my fans simply to earn money, out of habit. The philosopher Ahn Byeong-uk stated in his book The Most Beautiful Things on Earth: ‘Life is a process of creative self-expression.’ In trying to take his words to heart, I attempt to work on a different fan design every day, which has enabled me to create more than 100 new types of fans so far.”
Fan-Making Process
For Koreans in the past, a fan was much more than simply a means to create a breeze in summer; it was a versatile household item. People would often say that a fan had “eight virtues” or uses. This included an ability to create a breeze, shoo away flies and mosquitoes, cover an open container, provide shade from the sun, fan a fire, serve as a cushion when you sat on the ground, replace a dustpan, and provide a base when you carried a bundle on your head. In addition, it can heighten the mirth and enhance the performance of shamans, dancers, and singers. When decorated with poetry, calligraphy, or painting works, the fan becomes a functional work of art, which can be appreciated at anytime and anywhere.
“Honestly, there is nothing very complicated about making a fan. I don’t mean to be modest, but if you possess basic manual skills, all you need to do is follow the process. When all the materials are available, a simple fan can be completed within half a day. Of course, a fan with an elaborate bamboo frame can involve more than two months of work. To make a taegeukseon, there are 11 basic steps. First, the stalk of a two-year-old bamboo, from a sunny area, is cut to a proper length for making the fan’s ribs. The stalk is split into strips with a 1.5-centimeter width, and trimmed to a thickness of 1 millimeter.
The strips are split again to a width of about 1 millimeter, and then shaped into rounded strips of equal length. The round strips are placed on a sheet of base paper that has been cut to match the outline of the actual fan, which is covered with another layer of paper to which a taegeuk symbol has been attached. To assure that everything is firmly adhered together, the paper layers and bamboo frame are placed between two blankets. Then, you need to apply pressure on the blanket to compress everything tightly together. This step is known as dapseon (treading process). Thereafter, the edges are trimmed to the final shape, and finished with a paper border. Finally, a wooden handle is attached to the fan with decorative rivets.”
Jo will often leave the surface of his fan blank, in the hope of having a prominent calligrapher or painter add an artistic work to the fan. Early on, his polite requests would often be declined. Over time, however, as his reputation as an accomplished fan maker became more widely known, his fans have been increasingly highlighted by works of poetry, calligraphy, and Korean painting. The renowned folk historian Jo Byeong-hui offered two of his calligraphy works to Jo Chung-ik, and has even bequeathed his most treasured masterpieces to him. Also, the Korean painter Song Kye-il traveled from Ilsan to Jeonju, in the middle of summer, to render a color-ink painting on one of Jo’s fans.
“The fans, which contain the artistic creation of an artist and also reveal his noble character, never fail to greatly impress me whenever I look at them. To share the joy of these beautiful fans, I have held an annual exhibition of Jeonju Dano fans since 2003. A fan is not simply a tool to cool yourself off. For that matter, an air conditioner is far more effective, but a traditional fan can cool down your feverish heart. Everyone has a childhood memory of how their mother would gently fan them as they took a nap on her lap. The refreshing coolness of her loving hand was there to guide you throughout your life.”
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