Geumseong Shrine ritual carries on, but Museum of Shamanism moves back to original home
Yang Jong-sung talks with shamans at the Museum of Shamanism in northeastern Seoul during a ritual ceremony in 2022. Courtesy of Jack Greenberg
A public "gut," or shamanic ritual, will take place at Geumseongdang, a shrine that for several years housed the Museum of Shamanism. The ritual will be performed by a preservation society focused on shamans and musicians, continuing an annual tradition at the site. The ritual was held regularly until 1979 and was revived around 2010 by Dr. Yang Jong-sung, who learned everything about its established procedures from the shrinekeeper.
Although the museum’s formal agreement with Eunpyeong District has ended, the district requested that the ritual still be held this year. However, it was postponed from its original date in May to June, to prevent it from being politicized ahead of the snap presidential election held on June 3. The museum has since moved back to Yang’s private residence in Seongbuk District, where the project first began in 2013.
“I would like to go out and have a bigger space in which to share my knowledge and materials with other people,” Yang said.
The move comes after the district chose not to renew a memorandum of understanding (MOU). Originally, the district had asked Yang to relocate the museum to Geumseong Shrine, a historic site that was nearly destroyed during the Eunpyeong New Town redevelopment project. As an academic, Yang had researched the shrine’s history and significance and fought the Seoul Metropolitan Government for nearly two years for its preservation.
Dr. Yang Jong-sung shows off a fragile shaman painting at the Museum of Shamanism in Seoul, May 30. Courtesy of Jack Greenberg
When the district first proposed the move, Yang was reluctant and declined. However, he says he had a dream in which the spirit of Great Prince Geumseong, the sixth son of King Sejong, touched his shoulder three times without speaking. When the district made the proposal a third time, Yang took it as a sign and agreed, although the shrine lacked proper museum facilities.
The original agreement was set for two years but was renewed four times, lasting a total of eight years. Yang ultimately saw it as an opportunity to build ties with the community. “The neighbors never complained about the museum. Everyone liked it. Some were shocked and disappointed when they saw me moving out,” he said.
The MOU allowed either party to end the agreement without explanation. Earlier this year, the district head chose not to renew. Aware of the shifting nature of politics, Yang chose not to contest the decision.
The museum is now open only by appointment, as there is no budget to retain staff or curators. Yang hopes this situation is temporary and is actively searching for a permanent, more accessible space.
Before retiring, Yang served as a senior curator at the National Folk Museum of Korea. Through donations, he secured a small section on shamanism in the museum’s permanent display. Still, he has lamented that the museum, despite its name, remains focused largely on the culture of elites rather than the everyday lives and beliefs of common people, for whom shamanism held deep significance.
Despite inroads made by the Museum of Shamanism in expanding awareness through events and publications, shamanism remains poorly understood by much of the public, and is often met with suspicion or unease. As a result, shamanism remains marginalized in many settings. With competition from more institutionally recognized forms of culture and art, funding is scarce and even sympathetic officials hesitate to support a tradition that still stirs discomfort.
In the absence of written records, Yang’s collection of thousands of objects helps preserve a tradition that is largely oral. The museum’s artifacts include paper flowers, brass mirrors, knives, bells, amulets, fans, kites, flags and spirit paintings, including 16 items registered as cultural properties with the city of Seoul. Yang believes more pieces could qualify for this status, but has not had the time to complete the application process.
Yang has a long and layered relationship with shamanism. Though he earned a Ph.D. in folklore and cultural anthropology from Indiana University in the U.S., his connection to the tradition began much earlier, sparked by a childhood fascination with the sounds of shamanic songs and instruments. He grew up in the nation's southwestern Jeolla region, a region with a strong history of hereditary shamans.
“I was around 11 or 12 when I stumbled upon a shrine,” he recalled. “I didn’t know much about the shamanic social system, but I liked everything I saw and heard. My parents told me to study, but I kept going back to the shrine instead of the library. They held rituals every day. Korea was poor at that time, and as a youngster you could find things to eat at the shrine ... but more than that, the atmosphere was exciting.”
After high school, Yang decided to study shaman culture more seriously. “I knew I had to leave home and come to Seoul,” he said. He sought out older shamans who were still active and maintained strong ties with one another, including Woo Ok-ju (1920-93), a shaman from North Korea, whose husband, Park Dong-shin (1909-91) was a musician and mask maker.
“They accepted me first as a student, and then as a son,” Yang said. “They didn’t have children of their own ... I lived with them and learned the performing arts.”
Dr. Yang Jong-sung holds a sword used in shaman rituals at the Museum of Shamanism in Seoul, May 30. Courtesy of Jack Greenberg
Woo’s shrine housed significant materials from North Korea, passed down from her spiritual mentor, Kim Ki-baek (1893-1944) of Ongjin County. She wanted Yang to become a shaman and entrusted him with these sacred paintings.
“We even scheduled an initiation,” he said. “But my other teachers in the performing arts thought Woo was stealing me from them. They fought, and the ceremony, though once rescheduled, never happened.”
Instead of becoming a shaman, Yang became a performer and transmitter of the Hwanghae Province mask dance tradition. Still, he was drawn to shamanism. The spirit paintings from Woo’s shrine, which sparked his journey as a collector, remain among the most treasured items in the museum's collection.
A shaman sings at the Museum of Shamanism during a ritual ceremony in 2023. Courtesy of Jack Greenberg
During Korea’s New Village Movement in the 1970s, the state framed shamanism as an obstacle to progress and rural modernization, leading to the destruction of artifacts and loss of many shrines. Widespread suppression meant that shamanic culture was nearly erased from public view.
“Back then, you could go to antique and art shops and never see shamanic materials. People thought they were superstitious and unimportant for understanding Korean art or history. They didn’t see their value, but I did,” Yang recalled.
“At the time, many Westerners and Japanese had started to open their minds to shamanism and were exporting these items overseas. But not Koreans. They said, ‘This is superstition. Why spend money on it?’ Public museums were the same.”
These materials remain rare, making preservation urgent to protect a neglected part of Korea’s heritage.
“From the small amount that escaped destruction and made its way onto the market, I bought everything I could find. I didn’t have much money, but I negotiated when I had to. We must preserve what we can, especially now,” Yang said. “Shamanism wasn’t seen as indigenous to Korea or part of how we understand our identity.”
A shaman stands in front of an altar holding a cow head at the Museum of Shamanism during a ritual ceremony in 2023. Courtesy of Jack Greenberg
Yang also believes that although parts of shamanic chanting are recognized as intangible cultural heritage, the broader spiritual culture remains undervalued and is often seen as conflicting with dominant religions.
“Many say fully recognizing shamanism conflicts with their religion. They want to separate the art of chanting from its spiritual power, but if shamans separated the two, they could not chant,” he said.
Yang says it's not about believing in shamanism, but about respecting and understanding it, noting that people can choose whether or not to engage, but shouldn't be denigrated as a way to uplift other religions or ideologies. Even today, media depictions of Korean shamanism are often negative. Dramas and movies rely on stereotypes and surface-level portrayals, ignoring thousands of years of history.
Beyond cultural misconceptions, shamanism also faces political hostility, fueled by scandals involving spiritual influence at the highest levels. Public discourse often paints shamans as manipulative or corrupting figures. Park Geun-hye’s impeachment was driven partly by revelations about her confidant Choi Soon-sil, who although not part of traditional Korean shamanism was seen as exerting undue spiritual influence. More recently, Yoon Suk Yeol and his wife have faced criticism for consulting shamanic figures during crises.
For preservationists like Yang, this climate creates challenges. It leads to funding cuts, the ending of public partnerships and a lack of institutional support. The space available to practice and preserve these traditions continues to shrink.
A shaman balances a large piece of meat on a pitchfork atop a bowl of rice at the Museum of Shamanism during a shamanic ritual in 2022. Courtesy of Jack Greenberg
Gut returns
Holding the Geumseongdang ceremony now carries a quiet but powerful weight of resistance. The initiative shows that preserving shamanic rituals can uplift people and strengthen social bonds, especially after months of division and protests. It provides an opportunity for community connection, helping to rebuild trust and solidarity after difficult times.
While many rituals are now held in private or have been discontinued entirely, this rite remains open to the public. Meanwhile, the museum, even in its reduced state, serves as a record of shamanic belief. Each object tells a story, not just about the spiritual world, but about migration, adaptation and the struggle for survival.
Preparation and chanting begin on Thursday, and were preceded by the preservation society’s May 3 visit to Naju, South Jeolla Province, to pray at Mount Geumseong where the shrine's guardian spirit resides.
This Saturday, June 14, a condensed version of the Geumseong Shrine Shamanic Ritual Festival will be held. Those interested in attending can join between 9 a.m. and 5 p.m. at Jingwang 2-ro 57-23 in Eunpyeong District, Seoul. Lunch will be provided free of charge. Visitors wishing to make offerings should bring small bills. Visit shamanismmuseum.org for more information.
Jack Greenberg works as a consultant, researcher and freelance writer. His current focus is on heritage and conservation issues, historical memory debates, truth-seeking and reconciliation and civilian massacres of the 1950-53 Korean War. He was the recipient of the Global Korea Scholarship and earned a master's in international studies at Korea University. He is also an alum of McGill University.