Hwang Puha sings against gentrification and for art as salvation

Jun 20

Jun 20 Hwang Puha sings against gentrification and for art as salvation

by Anastasia Traynin (@girlcalledsun)

Folk musician, pastor, activist. A unique figure in the local art scene, Hwang Puha flows through and embodies these three interconnected identities. Over the course of two full-length albums, one EP, and countless performances at music venues and sites of social struggle, Hwang's stripped-down vocals, acoustic guitar, and transcendental lyrics have grown to be one of the most recognizable sounds of the anti-gentrification movement in Seoul, as well as the alienation of modern youth pushing back against a conservative society. Ahead of going into the studio to record his third album, I visited him at Saeminjok (New Folk) Church, where he has served as pastor for the last three years. With his new songs, Hwang Puha is deep in the process of grappling with the concept of "art as salvation."

I first met Hwang Puha at the square in front of Noryangjin Station in November 2021, where he was leading a regular worship service for the elderly merchants of the original Noryangjin Fish Market, who are still fighting against the modernization of the market. In recent months, he has had several worships and live performances at Eulji OB Bear, Korea's first draft beer and nogari (dried pollack) pub that operated in Euljiro-3ga's Nogari Alleyway since 1980, until it was forcibly evicted by a neighboring pub on April 21, 2022. Since that day, Hwang Puha has been one of many participants in a nightly protest that has brought together a diverse group of activists and citizens in support of the Eulji OB Bear owners. Live music has been one of the most immediate ways of drawing attention to the struggle.

"At these sites, there are many diverse kinds of art," Hwang explains. "There are people who take photos, people who document through video, people who write text, people who write poetry, people who dance. In the same way, music has an artistic function in documenting the site. But as an auditory recording, music has a different kind of appeal than, say, video. There is the melody and the lyrics, and you can listen to it anywhere, anytime. When you hear the music, you can recall the site that it comes from. In that sense, the music contains the site itself, and it also creates a unique way for people to participate, singing songs and actively enjoying the performance. It can give a diverse group of people a special kind of energy."

At Eulji OB Bear, two Hwang Puha songs are often played over the sound system, “We, Still, Today” from the 2016 Gentrification compilation album, and “Speculator,” the first track off of his gentrification-themed November 2020 EP My Home. The latter’s repeated refrain of “My home is not for sale” perfectly captures a mood of displacement and rootlessness within the urban development landscape. From Hwang's perspective, music is not only a recording but an actual 'voice' of resistance. "The kind of music that is often played at these sites is alternative and outside of the mainstream. This music continuously speaks for the site, like a reverberation. Beyond the musician, the song itself is speaking. Just as all parts of the struggle are important, from the legal aspect to the activists' organization, I think that is the essence of the music."

When it comes to his own songwriting process, Hwang finds it impossible to disconnect from his personal intersection of activism and religion, and the community. "When making and singing songs, it could be many different things, like love songs. When I think about the kind of songs I want to make, I can't help but make them about society. My identity as a musician and social activist can't be separated. Also, I majored in theology, so the content of my songs is connected to what I studied. I'm not specifically imparting any type of religion or ministry, but my studies and my ideas emerge within the music itself. In the same way, in my role as a pastor in the church, when discussing theology, of course, it's impossible to leave out social issues. The aesthetics of beauty and theology emerge through my music as well. So even though these are three distinct identities, they are connected."

Hwang is an original member of Okbaraji Missionary Center, a progressive Christian youth organization collectively fighting alongside urban evictees since May 2016, when the Okbaraji Alleyway across from Seodaemun Prison was demolished to make way for the Gyeonghuigung Lotte Castle Apartments. The organization is ecumenical in nature, with its members coming from diverse denominations and practices within the same faith. Hwang has written and composed several songs that continue to be used during on-site worships, such as the frequent opener, "There is an Empty Seat." Though Saeminjok's serene atmosphere seems to be worlds away from the chaos and confrontation of sites threatened by redevelopment and forced eviction, it is a 35-year-old institution nurturing Christian involvement in the social movement since the 1980s struggle for democratization.

"In Korean society, the progressive Christian movement is very much in the minority, to the point where everyone else might say, 'this is not church.' It's very conservative. I feel that the Korean church is a part of modern society, but theology within the church isn't developing accordingly. It should be more progressive in that when we think about theology, we should be asking, 'what does God think of it?' Progress means development and growth. For theology to mature and develop, there needs to be more study and attention. Even though it's very small and not so visible, the progressive Christian movement can be a model of change and normalization. In the case of Okbaraji Missionary Center, we are Christians participating in society. We are not only thinking about ourselves, but we are engaging with others. Christianity is about the process of our collective salvation. Participating and involving ourselves in others' suffering, discrimination and exclusion is part of this process. We started Okbaraji Missionary Center with the goal of showing this kind of Christian. It was a group of theology students with a free atmosphere. The idea was 'we don't have money, but we can do anything.'"

Hwang says that he didn't originally set out to be a pastor, but rather through the process of studying theology, he became interested in different ways to communicate about God and felt an urge to share that with others. As with others within the progressive Christian movement, he comes from a more traditional church background, and found that being unable to fit within that paradigm led him to explore other ways of expressing faith. "New Folk Church is a community of faith and worship. How can we talk about God? I consider my role here to be facilitating discussion of that question and like Okbaraji, show a model of progressive Christianity."

Last month, during the continued Easter commemorations, Hwang contributed a column to the online progressive Christian publication News & Joy, entitled "The resurrection lies within the Eucharist in front of Eulji OB Bear, which was driven out into the streets." Though there is already a strong Christian activist presence at the site, he urges more members of his community to support the fight to bring back Eulji OB Bear. During our meeting, he reflected on the similarities and differences between various anti-gentrification struggles in which he and other activists have participated, particularly comparing the more recent Eulji OB Bear situation with the fight of the Noryangjin Fish Market merchants, now in its seventh year.

"Eulji OB Bear is a gentrification struggle between an individual landlord and tenant. Noryangjin Fish Market is more complicated. Eulji OB Bear is a small business with one owner, while Noryangjin has many different merchants inside one big market. Since we are fighting for the market as a whole, personally, I feel a little sad that we can't talk about their individual stories. On the other hand, Eulji OB Bear is the individual story of the owners, Choi Soo-young and Kang Ho-sin. Though they are different, they are both similar in that they are fighting forced eviction."

Besides Eulji OB Bear, Noryangjin Fish Market, and the fight to defend the traditional inns and houses of the Okbaraji Alleyway, prominent forced eviction sites where Hwang has worshipped and performed include Hannam-dong's former Takeout Drawing cafe, Seocheon Gungjungjokbal pig feet restaurant that eventually reopened in Seodaemun District and the Ahyeon Pocha street food tents in front of Ahyeon Station, which were evicted and demolished in August 2016. Two of the Ahyeon Pocha aunties had moved their tents to the former common ground "Gongyuji" space outside of Gongdeok Station before opening their separate shops nearby.

"Having participated in many other redevelopment and gentrification struggles, including those with street vendors, I find that all the sites are different in their own way. The owners have different personalities, and the situations are different, so even as we keep going, it's not easy to get used to it. OB Bear is right in front of the pub that evicted them, which is the first time we're facing that kind of scene. It's difficult, tense, and feels like a constant war."

While witnessing difficult and often violent situations, Hwang has continued channeling various themes into his music. Starting with 2016's Dawn Without Color, a collection of previously written and performed songs on the general theme of life, he has experienced growth and maturity in his songwriting, with his lyrics resonating with his generation's difficulties in living within a hypermodern yet rigid and often alienating social structure. "The second album was called Self-Portrait [2018], and the theme was 'a self-portrait that I've never painted before.' It seems like an absurd expression because, typically, a self-portrait is something you paint yourself. I thought it was me, but then I found out that someone else was painting it for me. I wanted to free myself from this self-portrait. Patriarchal, capitalist society has made me, telling me 'you must live like this.' The idea is to not follow what society says but to find my own life and existence."

Though not entirely hidden, the My Home EP's theme of gentrification is somewhat below the surface, especially considering the seemingly bright and upbeat video for the song "Interior." Yet Hwang says the five tracks also tell a broad story, with all its conflicts and good moments. That record particularly highlights his longtime collaborators, violinist Hwang Yeji and contrabassist Jeong Sumin, who provide a different kind of "flavor" to Hwang's purposeful acoustics and soft vocals. It also features a duet with folk singer Kim Sawol, a remake of his original "Carsickness."

"For the past few years, the trend in the music industry has favored a 'wet' sound [with effects and processing]. But I'm not so good at following trends. After thinking about it, I decided to go the other way and started creating a 'dry' sound (without effects). Contrabass, violin, and classical guitar are unplugged, traditional instruments that don't require any electricity. I can perform here in this church or anywhere else. It makes the sound of a tree or a basic instrument sound. Instead of having accompanying instruments that remain in the background, I wanted this trio of sounds to come forward. For example, the bass usually just follows along, but on the new record, the contrabass often sings on its own. There are three distinct instruments. Normally, the time signature is 8/10, 10/10, but ours is 3/10, 4/10. We divide the balance. It has a 'tasty flavor.'"

For the third album, Hwang is diving into a deep, complex and philosophical concept that seems to encompass various aspects of his identity and will perhaps pick up from where the final track of My Home, "Transcendence," left off.

"These days, the theme I am most interested in is the essence of art itself. If I express it in a more religious way, I am asking, 'Can art speak of God?' When I ask this, two ideas come to mind. The first is that there are things art can't express about God. The moment we speak of God, it is no longer God. The moment we speak of infinity, we become finite. It's the philosophy of being unable to speak of transcendence in society. But we can speak. We must continue to speak. Speaking of the reality before us seems to be the essence of art. I think the world is in continuous struggle between these two forces of being unable to speak and having no choice but to speak. It's the same with the idea of justice. Can we really speak of justice? It's what we call the law. So then, obeying the law is justice. That idea comes from the same place as the idea 'let's not speak of God anymore.' But as artists, rather than just continuing to obey the law, we must continue to speak of justice. That way, the law, the system, and people's consciousness can change. That's how art facilitates progress and becomes our salvation. This constant tension between art and philosophy is the subject I'm currently thinking about."

After June, Hwang Puha will immerse himself in the studio recording process, with one song rumored to feature Lang Lee, whose song “There is a Wolf” is the unofficial theme song of the Eulji OB Bear protest site.
Hwang also has plans to release a book of song lyrics. Though he may become temporarily less visible at on-site performances, the final result should be well worth the wait. Meanwhile, there is still plenty of his music to listen to and invoke places of love, struggle, and transcendence.

"It's a religious saying, but I often say, 'art is the world's salvation.' If you look at history, it has always been art keeping up with the times. It has opened the path that we must take to go forward. The revolution that happens on the ground would not be possible without art.”

For more on Hwang Puha, click here.
For more on Eulji OB Bear, click here.