Artisan Jung Yun-suk, born in heart of 'onggi'

The hands of Jung Yun-suk, artisan of “onggi’ or traditional Korean earthenware. Here Jung is making finishing designs on the onggi he completed forming. / Courtesy of Jung Yun-suk

GANGJIN, South Jeolla Province — The coastal road along Gangjin leading to Jung Yun-suk’s workshop was deserted; the only sound coming from the strong wind, the sound of dogs barking and the cows. But it wasn’t always this way for the one-time hub of “onggi” or traditional Korean earthenware.

Jung remembers how the town used to be.

“When I was in elementary school, there were onggi here and there. Everybody in the town was involved in earthenware-making,” the 73-year-old said.

“My father and grandfather, my in-laws, everyone,” Jung said as he worked with his two sons inside a surprisingly warm workshop.

The entire neighborhood used to produce traditional Korean earthenware — the somewhat crude-looking crock used to store fermented food, paste and sauces. Koreans are believed to have been eating fermented food since the days of the Goguryeo Kingdom, hence the need for storage was paramount.

Jung Yun-suk is seen here working on the onggi.

There was a time dating back to the 1960s when earthenware produced here was shipped as far away as Jeju Island. The onggi can range from big pieces or “dok,” like the one Jung was working on in workshop when I visited, to smaller ones called “danji,” like the name of the Korean restaurant in New York owned by chef Hooni Kim. In the old days, the large crocks were utilized for storing kimchi while the smaller ones were used for pastes.

“When plastic was introduced in the 1970s, demand began declining and there were only two guys in our neighborhood left,” he said. The other onggi maker in the neighborhood passed away around 1985, and Jung acquired his factory, making him the only person left. When asked why he stuck by his trade, he said, “I wanted to sustain the tradition of our hometown. This is something I learned when I was 16 under a lamplight, not with an electric light like this one.” The Ministry of Culture, Sports and Tourism designated Jung as an Important Intangible Cultural Asset in 2010.

“The officials gave me high marks for consistency,” he said.

The image shows the diverse shapes of “onggi” that are produced at Jung’s Gangjin Chilryang Bonghwang Onggi workshop in South Jeolla Province.

Jung’s hometown is still deserted, however.

But inside Jung’s Gangjin Chilryang Bonghwang Onggi workshop, he’s busy working with his son Jung Yeong-gyun to meet a deadline. He and his son have to produce about 300 crocks by March for his clients. Korean onggi is less seen in the yards of Korean households nowadays but more at corporations that produce fermented pastes, as well as fashionable Korean restaurants.

Jung’s hometown has been known for its onggi that protrudes more around its middle. He still adheres to the methods that his father taught him. The Korean method of shaping a large-sized crock mainly falls into three categories of “tessatgi” or piling up layer upon layer of clay in a rope shape; the spiraling technique of building up the earthenware with a long rope shape of clay called “seorigi”; and the “chetbakui tarim,” which is building walls, layer by layer with long slab-shaped clay. Jung’s method is the “chetbakui tarim,” where he pedals on the watermill as he builds on slab after slab for a large-sized crock.

“This part of the process, piling up, is the hardest part, and I need utmost concentration,” Jung said, as he worked on his fourth onggi of the day.

As he worked on the watermill, piling up the slab of clay and wetting it before forming it into a rotund vessel shape, he would talk about his lifelong trade.

“This onggi, I am making now is for a client in Yeoju, Gyeonggi Province. There are many pottery makers in the Yeoju area, but why do they order from me? Because they know our quality,” he says. Thus, he commands about 1.5 million won for a large-sized onggi. He also has the honor of having three of his onggi displayed at the Smithsonian Natural Science Museum.

When the formation of the onggi is completed, Jung moves it to the kiln where he will attend to the fire for about a week to produce both glazed and non-glazed pieces. The primary difference between making the glazed and the non-glazed onggi is the firing-up process. In firing the glazed earthenware, the air is let in freely, so oxidized “breathing” vessels are produced. In firing the unglazed earthenware, the fire-feeding holes are choked so that a crock is not fully oxidized but better purification is produced.

Jung said that he initially did not want his two sons — he has four children — to continue the family business. His eldest son, who is retired, has joined his father now, but recalls that his father strongly asked him to go to college and not get his hands wet in “dirt water.”

“Things are much more convenient now, but once upon a time onggi-making was done through pure physical labor,” Jung said. “Especially, watching the fire, for a week, was really hard work back then.

“When you burn them up in the outside kiln with a 1,200 degree-fire, you won’t get all of them back, only 70 percent are usable and sellable,” he said.

“I have been at this since I was 16 — 57 years now,” he said. What he worries most about these days is whether his grandson will carry on the family trade. “I know my son will, but will his son do the same?” he wondered.