The open secrets of Korea's 'namsadang' art troupes

A troupe of entertainers dance in the early 20th century. Robert Neff Collection

By Robert Neff

In the late 19th century, large itinerant troupes of male entertainers ― known as "namsadang" ― roamed the Korean countryside providing the common people with a brief respite from their everyday lives through acrobatics, music, dance and puppet plays. They have been described as the "voice of the common people," as the performers were commoners themselves.

Often, their songs, plays and puppet shows mocked and ridiculed the upper classes who equally held the namsadang as "an object of extreme disdain," yet, seemingly tolerated them. As researcher Sim Usong noted, "Though it cost [the landowners and gentry] some money, they were able to work the farmers more efficiently. They were also able to subdue any ill feelings the populace might have felt toward them." It might be interesting to add that it wasn't overly uncommon for magistrates and officials to be violently removed (killed) when their enraged subjects reached their breaking point.

However, there were rules. When the namsadang approached a village, they would often go to a nearby hill and begin to play music and wave their flags in hopes of being invited in. More often than not, it was not provided. Only after they received an invitation were they allowed to enter the village and were provided with food and shelter for the night ― occasionally, they were even given a little bit of money. They would entertain the community for a short time and then move on to the next village.

According to Sim Usong, the puppet shows were generally based upon three themes: resistance against the oppression by the ruling classes, criticism of religion (especially foreign-introduced religions) and "the simple and honest desires of the populace."

One of the more popular puppet acts was about a provincial "yangban" (member of the Korean gentry) who spent great sums of money on "Midongaji," a very pretty boy ― "midong" meaning pretty or beautiful boy. The storyline was probably not that scandalous to the audiences.

A troupe performs in a small village in the early 20th century. Robert Neff Collection

Richard Rutt, in his article titled "The Flower Boys of Silla," noted "homosexuality was well known in rural society during the [Joseon] dynasty," and cited anecdotal evidence he had received from the elderly men in the village he had lived at in 1957, and from one of his religious superiors who had "spoken of its occurrence in the same area at the beginning of the [20th] century." He further explained that he was aware of the "vaguely unsavory reputation" sometimes connected with the provincial gentry as well as young widowers taking pretty boys as temporary companions. "[The] presents, especially of clothing, given to the boy would make his status public knowledge in the village" but apparently "caused very little stigma" as it was assumed that it was of convenience and the boy would eventually marry a woman.

Rutt was not the first Westerner to write about homosexuality in Korea. In 1885, Horace N. Allen, an American missionary doctor (later he became the United States representative to Korea) conducted physical exams of 76 young Korean male (teenagers or young adults) patients and noted they suffered from an "unnatural system of sexual gratification."

At about the same time, George C. Foulk, an American naval officer serving as the representative of the United States in Seoul, wrote:

"Sodomy is widely practiced in Korea: indeed, it may be said almost openly. The youths who are used thus do not go from place to place nor are they used by many different people. They are selected for their good looks ― and used generally by individuals who thus like them. Married men often use such boys, and cases in which the boy growing up falls in love with the woman of his master, runs off with her, or there is a mutual admiration society of three formed, are numerous. Such boys are called 'Pi-ok.'"

According to Rutt, the namsadang were often associated with homosexuality. The boy apprentices ("ppiri") often wore women's clothing during the performances while the older and more experienced performers took on the male roles. Naturally, the troupes with the most physically appealing ppiri were usually the most popular in the villages and earned the most money.

Some have argued that dancing, singing, tightrope-walking and puppetry were not the main sources of income for the troupes ― it was prostitution.

Performing before a large mixed-crowd in the early 20th century Robert Neff Collection

The namsadang were constantly in search of new members ― especially good-looking boys. Sometimes these new boys were recruited when a troupe visited a village ― such was the case of Yang Do-il who joined a troupe at the age of six. Already a servant and working long hours, he saw it as an opportunity to escape a dreary life of menial labor. According to Stephen O Murray, some volunteers to the troupe were seduced ― sexually or "metaphorically by the magic of performing on stage." Some parents ― unable to provide for their sons ― willingly gave them to the troupe. It has also been suggested that some boys were kidnapped and forced to join. Anyone who attempted to leave the troupe was severely punished.

By the middle of the 20th century, the old namsadang troupes had all but disappeared ― most of the members had passed away or were too old to participate actively. Those who remained "wanted to conceal their past histories" and many were reluctant to even provide their names to researchers. According to Sim Usong, one of the last groups to survive into the 1930s was led by Yi Wonbo. His troupe toured the small cities and villages of Gyeonggi Province and the outskirts of Seoul and seemed to have been fairly successful. When Sim Usong was conducting his research in the 1960s, he found most of the surviving namsadang members had belonged to Yi Wonbo's troupe.

So who was the namsadang group Rutt identified in 1957 as the "prize-winning team belonging to the county"? It may have been the Ansong Farmers' Musician group which was established by Nam Hyonggu in 1954. However, Sim Usong claims this was not a real namsadang troupe ― "the vestiges of the namsadang were visible as late as the 1940s but since that time they have, for all practical purposes, become extinct."

His research suggests that "in 1920, when folklore had begun to take an interest in [them], the face of the troupes had already changed considerably in nature. By then the true character of these self-generating, folk-entertainment groups had perhaps been missed." Sim Usong lamented their disappearance and argued that, despite the "stain" of their impropriety, society "must nevertheless highly value the progressive, pro-people quality of their art as demonstrated in the content of their shows."

It isn't clear what brought about the demise of the true namsadang but I suspect it was simply the evolution of society ― an evolution that the namsadang were unable to make.

Robert Neff has authored and co-authored several books, including Letters from Joseon, Korea Through Western Eyes and Brief Encounters.