Hongdae community coping with drastic changes

Construction of the AK& building dominates the sky in the area near Hongik University Station in March 2018. / Korea Times photo by Jon Dunbar

Changing character of neighborhood leaves small businesses behind

By Kyung Lee

The "end of an era." Those were the words that David Kute, a longtime resident of Korea and a regular in the live music scene, used when one of Hongdae's live jazz and blues venues, Club Palm, closed in 2014 following its 12-year run.

"It reflected a bohemian culture as well as areas for musicians to hang out and it seemed like a real jazz club," he added. "Of course, there are other venues, but you never like to see a good venue close down."

Palm is not alone, joining the likes of Spot, Ta, Badabie and Gogos2, to name a few. The Hongdae area has seen many music venues close down over the years, as they are often forced out by skyrocketing rents.

The area around Hongik University, known colloquially as Hongdae, still houses music venues like Club FF and Steel Face, but according to Kute, losing spaces like Palm signifies Hongdae's further takeover by hot new trends chipping away at its remaining charms.

Hongdae had been a cultural enclave of indie music and punk from as early as the mid-1990s, but recent trends there show a drastically different character. As recently as the last decade the area was still highly residential, offering affordable housing for university students, but nowadays its increasing commercial spaces have led to a revolving door for new businesses, which come and go each month.

"I think the shift from residential to business real estate isn't such a bad thing, but I do think the constant sight of businesses opening and closing means the area lacks a stable image and brand," he said.

Another frequent visitor, Alex Nelson, said the neighborhood's initiative to demolish and rebuild is another sign that Hongdae's oftentimes rebellious, subcultural artifacts are fading from view.

To him, recent renovations in Hongdae Playground best demonstrate the loss of character. A few years ago, mural space that had been in use since the 1990s was covered up, children's playground equipment including swings and slides were removed and the bench seating areas were significantly reduced, reconstituting the physical landscape into something new and unwelcoming. It's no longer a place where students and artists gather to converse over cheap beer and soju until early in the morning.

"The space has been changed to better reflect what it has come to be primarily used for, but this transformation has eliminated the contradiction," he said. "The transgressiveness of consuming alcohol in a children's playground that previously gave the park a sense of taboo juxtaposition and contradiction was appealing."

Pedestrians pass by Souled Out98, an appropriately named chicken and beer restaurant near Hongik University Station in March 2018. The restaurant became one of the many casualties in the local restaurant industry. / Korea Times photo by Jon Dunbar

Hongdae's live music scene

Kim In-soo, a familiar face around Hongdae since the 1990s, said, "The Vietnamese coffee shop that I tried a few days ago closed down when I went back for seconds. Turns out, it was all about the trends."

Kim, a member of the legendary Korean punk band Crying Nut, is in his own way partially responsible for the gentrification of Hongdae. Bands like his helped form the area's reputation as the heart of the nation's live music scene, but the recent developments have not benefited those who built Hongdae's reputation.

"Sometimes I wish punk rock or indie never had a label on Hongdae," Kim said.

Crying Nut's music lately has focused heavily on gentrification issues, especially with the last year release of their eighth full-length album "Remodeling."

"It's not about one specific venue or bar, but our lyrics talk about the last days before the clubs we used to perform in, and our friends who filled them, closed," Kim said. "It provokes the feeling that we should drink there every day before that day comes."

Despite raising awareness of gentrification through their lyrics, Lee Sang-hyuk, the band's drummer, added, "Our hearts are just not in it anymore. In Korea, if you have a restaurant or other entity with deep cultural roots, instead of preserving or developing around it, we'll always try to outcompete it until its historical significance disappears."

The punk band Look and Listen performs in Hongdae Playground for the Play Out festival on May 25, 2013. / Korea Times photo by Jon Dunbar

Gentrification resistance

One such business that refused to disappear was Duriban, a noodle restaurant located in a building slated for destruction with expansions to Hongik University Station. Following their violent eviction, owner Ahn Jong-nyeo and her husband, writer Yoo Che-rim, began a 531-day sit-in protest. Their action led to a movement, participated in by artists and musicians also fighting not to be forced out of the neighborhood. Their protest ultimately ended in victory, and Ahn won a compensation package allowing her to reopen the restaurant nearby.

But that was just one case.

Still concerned about the businesses of his wife and her neighbors, Yoo told The Korea Times that he consults with other business owners on the verge of closing because they can't cough up landlords' sudden demands to increase the monthly rent, and it's not rare to see the price double.

"These are fights you can hardly win in court, but that you can win on ethical grounds," he said. "You worked hard to pay off the original rent, but when the owner raises that amount it should trigger us as a community to gather and question numbers we can no longer afford."

One major hurdle working against them is the lack of community support: "People are just too busy to care, and it feels like you're reaching out to a high school buddy whose interests are now aligned far away from yours," he said.

Yoo, who starred in the 2014 documentary "Party51" and has appeared many times in print media and on TV, added that the Hongdae community should revert to cultivating subcultures to get people to care again.

Kyung Lee is a writer and researcher specializing in gentrification and the city's changing landscape.