By Kelly Frances
On a warm spring night earlier this year, two young Koreans stood upon a stage in Hongdae, but the music they made was not syrupy K-pop. Instead, jazz musician Oh Jin-bae, or Jamba to his fans, treated the audience to sensual melodies in the tradition of the great American jazz legends of old. Visual artist and collaborator Jane Rhyu joined him to croon a stylized rendition of “Fever.”
Rhyu and Jamba are a new kind of Korean artist: The Bridger.
What is a “bridger,” anyway?
“A bridger is someone who is ‘bridging the gap’ between the defined categories of East and West, and not quite fitting into one or another,” explains Rhyu, whose most recent performance, “A Perfect Midnight,” was held in July at Golmok Gallery. “Through my experience, I developed an understanding that one must rise above the gap, and come back to it seeing that the lines blur. That is the key to growth, and the benefit of being in a situation which can be uncomfortable at times.”
Rhyu was born in Korea before immigrating to the United States in 1988 at age 8, returning to Korea for the first time in 2003 and moving back permanently in 2006. In 2010, Rhyu launched her own media company. Feeling like a foreigner in her native land, she describes experiencing a sense of awakening and maturity, but also identifies serious issues in the realm of creative nurturing, and a perceptible gap.
That gap is responsible for Jamba’s upcoming move to Paris, France, where he plans to participate in the International Jazz Concourse. Like Rhyu, Jamba is well aware of socially imposed boundaries and desires to see changes in the Korean art climate.
“Everyone wants to be world famous,” he said, “but first, I’d like to survive in my own country. However, it seems like international validity is very important to Koreans.”
Rhyu concurred, citing occasions when her profession inspired polite laughter or awkwardness.
“There is a lack of yeoyou (space) in Korea, freedom for young artists to explore, to push the boundaries, to explode!” she said.
Jamba, whose lyrics are almost exclusively in English, aspires to resurrect the old school American Jazz era for his fans. After graduating from the Seoul Jazz Academy and exploring Australia’s outback, he signed with GM Entertainment and recorded his first album, 2009’s “The Story of J.” This year, he released a second album, “Competition,” which features a song written by Rhyu.
Despite the two albums and a deep love for his native land, he feels a lack of support as an artist. Rhyu wholeheartedly agrees.
“There’s this message being sent: Go out into the world, get big and come back when you’re accomplished or established,” she said. “We want to stay in Korea, but there is little financial support here, little social support for kids growing up with aspirations to be artists.”
Rhyu speculates that a little fostering could inspire enormous change in tech-savvy Korea.
“You know, many Korean artists [have] truly enviable technical mastery, but often I find that that ‘breath’ is missing. I suppose that could be said about lots of work out there overall, but I do notice a stifled quality in the local art I've seen.”
Both artists allude to mixed reactions in their choices by family, friends and society. Jamba attributes some of the negativity he experienced to common jealousy.
“I had a dream, and no one supported me, but a true artist will endure whatever is needed to create, regardless if it goes unappreciated. Some of my critics may have once had a similar dream. Often these dreams get stifled by Korean society,” he said. “It’s easy to resent those who took the tough road and followed an uncertain path.”
“I certainly don't think it is for a lack of inspiration, or innate inability or anything like that,” said Rhyu. “Here, the sense of the individual is constantly challenged, relationships are inherited and complex, societal pressures so incredibly strong. It can be difficult to access the freedom, the space (as Jamba said, the yeoyou) needed. But it can be done, and I just wish more felt encouraged to make that pursuit.”
Still, not all aspects of the Korean scene have been detrimental to Rhyu’s career.
“Being back being here has made me complete. Certainly, my Western training sparks interest. But even if it detracts from me, I’d like to see the native ‘home-grown’ featured. I know my language skills have been assets, and there were times I felt I have been supported specifically because I am in Korea but have an international background.”
In regard to their aspirations, both wish to attain enough success to inspire others.
“I want to be as fully me as possible. By being who I am, I can be somewhat of a model for other bridgers like myself,” she said.
Jamba is most interested in honing his craft, believing that quality in and of itself equals success.
“I love my country, and I want to continue to create here. I also want to be someone who inspires others to listen, someone people can relate to,” he said. “And that audience isn’t necessarily Korean or Western in my mind ― it is purely human.”