한국국제교류재단

Occupying central Seoul, the Euljiro area is packed with small timeworn factories, workshops, and hardware stores. Its subdued, narrow lanes are filled with motorcycles whizzing by, the sound of welding, the acrid smell of grinding metal, and the purposeful bustle of people going about their livelihood. This contrasts with other popular areas in Seoul, such as Gangnam, Myeong-dong, and Hongdae, which are known for their wide, neon-lit roads packed with retail, dining, and drinking establishments for all different budgets.

Yet, Euljiro’s distinctive ambience and vintage charm, the vestiges of its past etched in its byways and buildings, draw in young people all the same. Spreading the word on social media, they often attach “#hotspot” to posts they make from this neighborhood.

EPICENTER OF MANUFACTURING

During the Japanese occupation of Korea (1910– 1945), Seoul’s administrative districts were reorganized and its center named Hwanggeumjeong. Blossoming textile, food, and printing industries turned the area into a commercial and industrial hub. Following Korea’s liberation, the area was renamed after Eulji Mundeok, a famous general of the Goguryeo Kingdom (37 BCE–668 CE).

After the Korean War (1950–1953), much of Seoul laid in ruins, but people from all corners of the country still flocked to the capital, hoping to eke out a living during its wide-scale reconstruction. At night they curled up in the cramped shanties of Euljiro, and during the day sold whatever they could on the streets.

Machinery and tools from the U.S. Army and scrap metal that was rendered obsolete after the war ended up in Euljiro. Local merchants gradually acquired the expertise to repair or manufacture machinery themselves, gaining Euljiro a reputation as a place where expert craftsmen could make practically anything from scratch. People even joked, “You could build your own tank in Euljiro,” a testimony to the advanced manufacturing skills that had evolved there.

The area flourished. Alleyways turned into light-industry corridors producing an array of items, including electrical and electronic goods, metal, glass, light fixtures, pottery, and furniture. The 1970s saw the peak of Korea’s rapid urbanization and industrialization, which forever changed the course of the nation. Businesses in Euljiro were said to be flooded with so many customers every day that the owners barely had time to count their money.

By the late 1980s, government officials decided that manufacturing electric appliances and electronics — the area’s lifeblood — was unsuitable for urban centers. This, in addition to deteriorating residential housing, prompted the government to designate Euljiro for redevelopment. Seoul was quickly turning into a forest of office buildings and apartment complexes, and with three subway lines crisscrossing through Euljiro, its convenient location made it an inviting target for city planners and property developers.

Business owners and residents were told to relocate, but negotiations stalled over the division and ownership of land lots, driving up property prices and putting a hold on Euljiro’s redevelopment.

RESPECT FOR TRADITION

Among the area’s customers were young creatives who needed materials for their art, film, and theater projects. As craftsmen filled orders, they would interact with the artists, discussing specifications, giving technical advice, and even providing consultation, thereby serving as quasi-collaborators on their projects.

It was these young artists who engendered a wind of change in the deteriorating neighborhood, shining new light on its intrinsic value. From the mid-2010s, those looking for a studio, exhibition space, or performance venue were drawn to Euljiro. Affordable rents made it an attractive choice, but a bigger reason was the particular atmosphere created by its aging buildings, labyrinthine alleyways, and the energy of laborers toiling away.

The artists all shared a commitment to creating spaces that did not clash with the surroundings. Rather than opting for a complete makeover to suit studios or exhibition venues to their purposes, most chose to preserve the original interiors.

This consideration paired nicely with the budding retro trend. New occupants refrained from tearing down brick façades and discarding old furniture, in vogue decades ago, and in most cases, they even retained the signboards of the old stores and factories. This respect for Euljiro’s place in history and the desire to preserve its character allowed for a harmonious balance of new and old.

 

BIRTH OF “HIPJIRO”

The artists who settled in Euljiro boldly pursued innovative ideas, even if it meant that their exhibitions or performances weren’t financially lucrative. They engaged in artistic experimentation, integrating the area’s geographical and architectural characteristics into their work. This is why certain events staged in Euljiro are referred to as “site-specific content.”

The art and culture projects that revitalized the area gradually permeated its food culture as well, with coffee shops and bars popping up one by one. The owners of these establishments also chose not to erase the vestiges of their predecessors, with many restaurants not even displaying their name out front.

Some have evolved into multipurpose cultural spaces; on a given day, restaurants, cafés, and pubs may serve as studios, galleries, and performance venues. A restaurant will play host to an art exhibit while a café is turned into a concert hall. Only in Euljiro do metal workers and cocktail-sipping hipsters coexist in shared spaces. This is the charm of an area that has been transformed into a cultural hotspot through word of mouth, earning it the nickname “Hipjiro,” a compound of the English word “hip” and the last two syllables of Euljiro.

This historic neighborhood is shedding its long-established image associated with labor and manufacturing and reshaping its identity. Roaming the maze-like alleyways just to chance upon a one-of-a-kind spot is a special experience that you can only have in Euljiro.