[INTERVIEW] Man's mission to keep Jeju Island's 'doldam' stone wall tradition alive

Stonemason Jo Hwan-jin poses in front of a "doldam," or stone wall made from Jeju Island's signature porous basalt rocks, in the island's northwestern town of Hallim, March 30. He has been on a decade-long mission to keep alive the disappearing tradition of stone walls that have embodied Jeju's distinct cultural identity for centuries. Korea Times photo by Choi Won-suk

By Park Han-sol

JEJU ISLAND ― Jeju Island goes by a handful of monikers, the most prominent of which, although somewhat well-worn, is "samdado," or the island of three types of abundance: women, stones and wind.

Sure, the list can be expanded to include other ubiquitous things like tangerines, horses and sprawling fields of canola flowers, but the volcanic island will always be synonymous with the hardy "haenyeo," (female divers), black basalt rocks and gales that are powerful enough to cause frequent flight cancellations at certain times of the year.

And of these distinctive features on the island, porous lava rocks and strong winds have given rise to a characteristically Jeju-style architectural feature, which represents a centuries-old tradition of the residents: "doldam," or stone wall.

The structure's plain name doesn't do justice to its rather unusual characteristic ― namely, the visible gaps that exist between each of the stacked stones of varying shapes and sizes.

From a cursory glance, the wall may look as if it's ready to collapse at any moment without warning.

But its holes, which let air pass through instead of blocking it altogether, are what makes it a surprisingly sturdy and strategic protection against the island's recurring gales, said stonemason Jo Hwan-jin on a recent breezy day as he sat in the middle of a stone wall-lined pathway in Jeju's northwestern town of Hallim.

Jeju Island's "doldam" is known for its rather unusual characteristic ― namely, the visible gaps formed between each of the stacked lava rocks of varying shapes and sizes. According to Jo Hwan-jin, its holes, which let the wind pass through instead of forcibly blocking it altogether, are what makes the wall surprisingly sturdy. Korea Times photo by Choi Won-suk

"The basalt rocks here, with their extremely rough textures, tend to have greater surface friction than granite or other types of stone," he noted. "The master builders can, therefore, carefully pile them up by hand to construct a durable wall while leaving gaps in between to create passageways for wind."

These stone walls date back to the 13th century during the latter days of the 918-1392 Goryeo Dynasty, when a government official from the mainland named Kim Gu was dispatched to Jeju to start his new post.

Historically, there were no strict boundaries maintained between farmlands, resulting in frequent disputes between the islanders over land ownership rights. Having no field borders also meant that crops were exposed to the constant risk of damage due to winds and free-range livestock.

It was when Kim ordered the locals to construct territorial markers using the easy-to-access basalt that "batdam," or field walls, were born.

"Batdam," or field walls, are installed to mark boundaries between farms in the island's northwestern town of Hallim. Korea Times photo by Choi Won-suk

The stone walls have indeed become a familiar sight throughout the island since then.

In addition to the field walls, islanders built "jipdam," or stone wall fences around their houses, and "olletdam" to define the paths from their homes to main roads. "Wondam" were installed along the coast as a weir that traps fish at high tide, while "sandam" were placed around gravesites to protect ancestral burial mounds from livestock and fires.

It isn't an exaggeration to say that the lives of the islanders have for centuries begun and ended with these dark basaltic stones.

But Jo noted that the once-ubiquitous traditional basalt walls have been giving way to homogenous rows of cement and concrete structures in recent years as part of standardized building practices.

"Many of them are being damaged and razed without a trace," he said. "Some of the still-standing ones are no longer looked after properly. They're simply left to collapse, with no one making any efforts to preserve their original state."

As a professional "dolchaengi," which means stonemason in the Jeju dialect, he has been on a decade-long mission to keep alive the disappearing tradition of stone walls that have embodied Jeju's distinct cultural identity for generations.

Stonemason Jo Hwan-jin carefully stacks the basalt rocks on top of one another by hand to construct durable "doldam," while leaving gaps in between for air to flow. Korea Times photo by Choi Won-suk

From painting major to full-time 'dolchaengi'

As a Jeju native, Jo grew up surrounded by doldam all his life, but his love affair with these walls only began in his sophomore year in college when he took his first-ever trip outside of the island to Gangwon Province.

On a train ride to Jeongseon County, he looked out the window and was shocked to discover that there were zero stone walls in sight.

"That was the first time I realized that the basalts that I grew up with my whole life were unique to where I'm from," he said. "And from that very moment, they became more than just ordinary rocks to me; they were cherished treasures."

As he was majoring in Western paintings at Jeju National University, Jo started painting, and later photographing, one basalt wall after another. But it wasn't until 2005 that he decided to build his own marital house that the lava rocks transformed from his artistic muse into his profession.

Having no technical knowledge of how to fashion an entire home out of basalt rock, he had to learn the necessary skills from his father, who had been a stonemason for over five decades at that point.

"My father used to be very much against the idea of me following in his footsteps," he noted. As the stone wall culture gradually lost prominence on the island, being a dolchaengi was no longer seen as a promising or even a viable occupation.

Nonetheless, the junior Jo's determination moved his father. For the next three years, the father and son went on to build a one-of-a-kind house with a peanut-shaped roof in Hallim-eup. Its intriguing shape soon became the talk of the town and was even featured on a nationally televised show.

Soon, construction requests for stone walls and houses poured in from all over the island. It wasn't long before stonemasonry became his true calling.

The porous basalt rocks on Jeju Island tend to have greater surface friction than other types of stone, according to Jo Hwan-jin. Such a quality makes them an ideal material for the construction of "doldam." Korea Times photo by Choi Won-suk

Jo thought back to a particular encounter he had with seasoned stone wall builders when he was still a novice.

"I had a chance to observe them for a few days and saw that their techniques were exceptional. I decided to approach their boss and ask whether I could work with and learn from them," he recalled. "He said no, telling me that I was the kind of person who, if taught the skill, would go on to launch his own business."

Then, it hit him: There were hardly any established channels or platforms available for those interested in learning the skills of building stone walls.

"If such skills are not shared and passed down, the basalt walls on Jeju will one day cease to exist," he said. "I wanted to push ahead with my career as a stonemason, so that I would have a chance to teach any individual with an interest in these walls."

Years later, he did indeed.

In 2015, he founded Dolbitna Art School, which offers hands-on lessons and activities for students to help them become familiarized with the island's native lava rocks and learn about their cultural value. Once a month, he and his students visit different villages to volunteer to repair damaged public stone walls.

Jo keeps himself busier than ever nowadays as he spends his time constructing and repairing stone walls, running the school and seeking out master stonemasons living in obscurity throughout the island to document their stories for posterity.

The stone wall culture of Jeju, while lesser known than that of other countries like the United Kingdom, Ireland and Italy, possesses its own unique charms, the stonemason noted.

"The most important task that currently lies ahead of us is its preservation. Even as we speak, there are basalt walls that are being damaged, collapsed and razed, yet there have been no clear-cut policies implemented to protect them," he said. "Only when such systemic measures are in place can we properly promote their beauty and value to the world."

Stonemason Jo Hwan-jin is busier than ever nowadays as he spends his time constructing and repairing stone walls, running his school and seeking out master stonemasons throughout Jeju Island to document their stories for posterity. He continues to call for policies to preserve the island's disappearing stone wall culture. Korea Times photo by Choi Won-suk