As I relearn the changed face of Seoul, I’m rediscovering areas like Daehakro (대학로), always a place filled with young energy and creativity. It’s a great place for a meal and a movie: I saw "Old Partner (워낭소리)", or “The Cow Bell” there. In March, I helped kick off Seoul’s enthusiastic celebration of St. Patrick’s Day, also in Daehakro. It was only recently, however, that I learned Daehakro is also the scene of a thriving small theater culture, what Americans would call “off-Broadway”, small, even tiny theaters brimming with talented, risk-taking performances. As with “off-Broadway” in the U.S., I’ve discovered in Daehakro that you never know what you’re going to see! In Daehakro, there are almost 200 small theaters. So far I’ve seen only two plays, and both have been superb.
The first play was Jjamppong (짬뽕). Of course, I know the word jjamppong (spicy noodle soup); it has long been my favorite Chinese noodle dish. The play is set in a Chinese restaurant, but it’s about a lot more than food. "Jjamppong" is set in Gwangju in May 1980, and shows the lives of ordinary people caught up in the turmoil and tragedy of the Gwangju Uprising. So, yes, aspects of the play are upsetting, serious, and very sad, and at the same time the actors (and the playwright) create characters of humanity and humor. The play gave my Korean language skills a workout. But even when I couldn’t follow the dialogue, I could understand the story, thanks to the compelling physical and non-verbal skills of the actors.

Group photo with the "Jjamppong" cast and audience
I went back again to Daehakro to see a musical, Bbalrae (빨래), or “Laundry.” This play is set in a working class neighborhood in today’s Seoul. The characters and the acting – and the music – were first-class. The theme was also compelling, and a bit of a surprise: The play examines the lives of foreign workers in Korea. The male lead character is an illegal Mongolian immigrant; the play also touches on the situation of Vietnamese immigrants to Korea, and of Koreans themselves struggling in their lives and work. Again, my limited Korean language ability meant I didn’t follow every plot detail, but when the Mongolian characters spoke, I always understood them because the Korean actors who played them spoke Korean like foreigners – like me! Another memorable character is a woman who hides her disabled daughter from the world but at the same time is completely devoted to her. "Bbalrae" has a lot to say about how tough life still is for many struggling to make it in Seoul – Korean and foreigner alike – and it says it with insight, humor, hope – and great music.
Ambassador Stephens on stage with "Bbalrae" cast Jung Moon Sung
(Photo provided by Merry Theatre SOOBAK)
These are small theatres – holding 100 people at most – and the actors get the audience involved right away. In the very first scene of "Jjamppong", an audience member was lured onto the stage and then became a character in the play ordering jajangmyeon (자장면), noodles in black bean sauce. And he actually had to sit there and eat it! Since these theater troupes are relatively small, many of the actors also play multiple roles. But they’re so convincing it’s hard to tell until the curtain call just how small the cast really is.
My theater-going group to these two plays includes a politician from the opposition party, Korean government officials, and a journalist. On both occasions we had a chance to have coffee with the actors after the performance. I noted that in the case of "Jjamppong", most of the actors in the play were children or not yet born at the time of the Gwangju Uprising. Seeing how successfully bold young Korean artists are dealing with sensitive historical, social, and political themes, seeing the diversity of Koreans and foreigners flocking to these plays, and talking after the performances about the themes the plays examined, I truly felt I was enjoying myself one of the great fruits of Korea’s democratic blossoming. Now that I’m a Daehakro fan, I have one proposal for making the plays more accessible to non-Korean speakers: I wonder if the technology exists to provide surtitles, at least for the main lines, as is often done these days for operas. These pieces have very high production values and the only thing that keeps them from being accessible to non-Korean audiences is the language. Even if only the song lyrics were surtitled it would be a great addition to the Korean wave!

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