Do Je-hae edits news stories as part of the AI team.
Virtuoso inspired generations of dancers
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The late Lee Mae-bang (1927-2015) performs “seungmu” in this 1985 file photo. / Korea Times
By Do Je-hae
By Do Je-hae
Music is the greatest source of inspiration for a dancer.
I have seen performers unable to interpret the music they are dancing to and this really becomes an annoyance for the audience. So I have always believed that a solid basis for a great dancer is his or her appreciation of music.
In the field of Korean traditional dance, the late Lee Mae-bang, who died on Aug. 7, was a leader among a rare breed of dancers who were able to mesmerize the audience by becoming one with the music.
I have seen a spellbinding combination of musical understanding and dancing ability produce magic in ballet, my favorite dance genre, particularly in the performances of American Ballet Theatre legend Alessandra Ferri and former Paris Ballet Opera “etoile” (principal dancer) Agnes Letestu.
I never knew that similar kind of magic was possible in traditional Korean dance, a genre that is increasingly losing touch with young Koreans, until I learned about Lee.
The first time I came to know about Lee was in 2011, when I arrived at this newspaper’s culture desk. Most of my assignments involved Western arts _ particularly classical music and ballet. But I had always been fascinated with traditional Korean music and dance as well, since I had been a huge fan of “pansori” (Korean opera) and “samulnori” (traditional percussion music) for years.
A group of renowned dancers who had studied under Lee were organizing a performance at the LG Art Center in a tribute to Lee shortly after I began writing for the culture desk, and I received a press release about the event from the organizer. I am ashamed to admit that was the first time I had heard of the pioneering dancer who played a pivotal role in keeping the genre relevant in today's Korea.
I took it as an opportunity to learn about Korean dance and researched him intensely. Some of his unique traits as a dancer instantly grabbed my attention.
First of all, I did not know that there were male dancers in the field of traditional dance. He started dancing at age seven, during the Japanese colonial rule (1910-1945), when it was considered taboo for men to go into such a profession.
Despite strong objection from his father, he continued to dance and went to China to study under Mei Lanfang, one of the most famous Peking opera artists in modern history. He also trained under dance master Lee Dae-jo.
His musical understanding came from early training, having learned pansori (Korean opera), “gayageum” (12-string zither) and “janggu” (an hourglass-shaped drum), which he continued to play up until the very end of his life. When he was not dancing, he was seen accompanying his pupils on janggu.
The holder of Korea's Important Intangible Cultural Assets Nos. 27 “seungmu” (monk's dance) and 97 “salpuri” (exorcism dance) also set him apart for his exceptional talent in making stage costumes. His previous media interviews often showed him sitting in front of an old sewing machine that had once belonged to his mother. He prided himself on making the stage and rehearsal costumes for himself and his pupils. “I’m probably the only dancer who makes dance costumes himself,” he said during a previous Korea Times interview.
He was also a choreographer, responsible for the development of the genre of drum dance after the Japanese occupation. Lee has also been a front-runner in introducing Korean dance to the world. He participated in the closing ceremony of the 1992 Barcelona Summer Olympics Games. In 1998, Lee received the French government’s Order of Arts and Letters.
When I started to take an interest in Lee's life in dance, he was well past his prime as a dancer. During the last few years of his life, his movement was affected by a back problem and he was too frail to make public appearances.
But the few times he appeared in the media always moved me with his words of wisdom and dedication to preserving a dying genre.
A piece of advice he once gave on how to dance well could be applied to anyone pursuing excellence in their own field. “There is no other way but to keep dancing and dancing again,” Lee said. “Just keep your eye on one path and don't look the other way.”
His final media interview was with Chosun Ilbo in August 2014, when Pope Francis was visiting Korea.
Because of the historic visit, Lee's interview was not given the kind of coverage it deserved. I remember reading it and feeling sad that such a giant figure in Korean dance did not seem to have too many years left in him.
The national treasure of dance has died, but hopefully his legacy will continue through the many dancers he inspired over the years.
Lee, who died of old age at 88, is survived by a wife and daughter.
Kim Jong-deok, minister of culture, sports and tourism, posthumously conferred an Eun-gwan Medal (Silver Crown) at a memorial altar for the late dancer at the Samsung Medical Center in southern Seoul, Sunday.