K-Pop, M-Pop, Hip-Hop: Korea-Mongolia Mixtape–Youth, Expression, & Nationalism

K-Pop, M-Pop, Hip-Hop: Korea-Mongolia Mixtape–Youth, Expression, & Nationalism


(pleasant music) – Good afternoon, everyone,
thank you for coming. My name is Caverlee Cary and I am the program director for the Institute of East Asian
Studies under which we have the UC Berkeley Mongolia initiative,
which together with the center for Korean Studies has
brought you this afternoon’s program today and today I
hope we have what I think will be a pretty kinetic and
thought provoking afternoon of discussion of youth, music, politics, and identity in Korea and Mongolia. These two countries have
strong historical connections and in contemporary times,
many people have crossed the borders between the two, but
it is to the flow of music and youth culture that we turn to today. You will see a great range. Some of the music and
expression you will see this afternoon is hopeful and
sunny, some of it very dark indeed, even disturbing. We have four panelists who are
gonna be taking about Korea and four in Mongolia and
we plan to crisscross between the two and hope
the dialectic will stimulate new and perhaps surprising comparisons. Because we have a very full
program, I have asked our moderator, Brian Baumann, who
teaches Mongolian language and history here to forgo introductions. Instead, we have printed
bios for the speakers on the handouts on the table here
and then another and the table in the back, so
help yourself to those. We may have a brief
opportunity for quick questions between panels as people
change their technology, but otherwise, I’m gonna ask
you to hold your you ’til the end when we can have a
longer period for questions and for discussion. I’m gonna open this afternoon’s
program with a trailer for a film called Mongolian Bling. It’s a documentary about
Mongolia’s hip hop scene. Mongolia was and to some extent
still is and certainly is in its imagination a nomadic
society, thus song and the spoken word held a special place in its traditional culture. We are lucky to hear more
about this intersection of traditional and contemporary
in the panels to come. I launch the program with
this clip because in its imagery, it touches up a
number of themes our panelists may be picking up on such
as Mongolia’s emergence from Soviet domination, its
traditional culture in music in music in contrast to the teeming capital city’s activities to which so many disenfranchises
herders have fled and youth who are juggling their participation in the global youth cultural
with their perceptions of their identities. If the audience by the way
wishes to see the entire film, it is available on YouTube
and also we may be able to schedule a screening here
at some point if people are interested, they should
see me after the panel. With that, I’m gonna show
you the film and then I’m gonna turn it over to our
moderator Brian Baumann. (dramatic music) (rapping in foreign language) (rapping in foreign language) (energetic singing in foreign language) (rapping in foreign language) (energetic string music) (foreign language) Okay, so that’s sort of some
imagery to start us off with and with that I’m turn
it over to our moderator, Brian Baumann. (applause) – Hi. My name is Brian Baumann as Caverlee said. To quote a country western
reference, we’ve got a long way to go and a short time to get
there so with no ado at all, our first speaker will be
Eun-young Jung and her paper “Producing K-pop, Negotiating
National Identities, “Anxieties, and Desires for
the Global Cultural Industry.” Let’s welcome her. (applause) – Thank you, Caverlee, for
bringing this wonderful event together and for the
short time, I will just get right into it. Can you all hear me okay? Korea has a dynamic history
of political and (mumbles) music culture as the nation
itself has gone through (mumbles) internal and
external political struggles, particularly since the
Japanese colonial period. For more than half a century,
the Korean government has put great effort into
reestablishing its national pride and promoting Korea’s
strong nationalism in the post-colonial state building process. Clear recognizing the
transformative power of music as a political tool, the Korean
government has been cultivating various kinds of cultural
policies in music to shape new Korean identifies by encouraging
nationalist anticommunist pro-military and at times
anti-Japanese attitude through censorship and propaganda. As the nations’ focus was
on political stability and economic development from
the 1950s to the 1980s, cultural policy makers’
interests were focusing on promoting proper Korean ethics and morals. By implementing multiple
censorships and prohibitions on pop music, the Korean
government tried to protect the public from unhealthy
foreign influences. Since Korean pop music had
been deeply rooted in both American and Japanese pop
music from its beginning, most aspects of the censorships
and prohibitions were established against direct
and indirect influences from America and Japan. Policy makers were easily
able to rationalize that such regulations were crucial to
avoid “cultural invasion” by foreign forces. As Korea was severely
traumatized by the Japanese colonization and was still
dealing with the direct American military presence, the Korean
public, especially the older generations, was largely in
agreement with the nation’s protectionist stance on pop culture. By the early 19980s, Korea
was transformed into an industrial powerhouse and was
able to establish the first civilian government. During these prosperous
years, the Korean youth became important cultural consumers
whose buying powers started to influence the pop culture
industry practices and musical styles. Dramatically different
from the older generation in values, customs, lifestyles,
and mindset, this new generation had better interests in the nation state building project but desired more exciting
cultural entertainment following global trends. In 1997, due to the Asian
finance crisis, Korea was once again traumatized as its
economy almost collapsed. In order to save the nation’s
economy, the Koreans’ shared national purpose and
willingness to sacrifice were emphasized again by the Korean government. During the crisis, Korea
went through radical economic reforms that left extensive
modifications on foreign and cultural policies,
including more flexible rolls on cultural censorships. Also, the Korea government
started to provide financial support for the cultural
industry to expand outside Korea as the Korean wave took off. One of the most notable policy
changes was the ending of the official ban on importing
Japanese culture products that had been in place from the 1960s. Due to the strongly lingering
anti-Japanese sentiment and the fear of cultural invasion
by the more advanced Japanese pop culture industry, Korean’s
open door policy towards Japanese pop culture went
through multiple stages of negotiating and renegotiating
processes between 1998 and 2004. It is important to note that
specifics of the Korean wave in different countries vary
as their political, economic, and cultural relations
with Korea are different. Still, the case of Japan stands
out as the two countries’ political and economic (mumbles)
relations have historically been strained. Thus, Korea viewed the
success of the Korean wave in Japan, despite its late
arrival there in 2003 as particularly victorious and
beneficial for elevating Korean national pride. Also, the immediate backlash
against the Korean wave in Japan was seen as a sign
of Japan’s anxiety as Korean pop culture became more popular
than Japanese pop culture in many parts of Asia, where
things had been the other way around. Ironically, during extensive
repackaging and Japanizing process, the Korean pop music
consumed in Japan between 2003 and 2005 was rarely
Korean in styles or lyrics, but basically Japanese,
performed by Koreans. The K-pop boom in Japan between
2010 and 2012 still followed this practice. While Korea was celebrating
the K-pop boom as Korea’s second national victory
against Japan, backlash was rapidly growing in Japan. Ignited by the former Korean
president Lee’s visit to the (mumbles) islands
in 2012, the K-pop boom in Japan sudden declined. Since Japan had been the
most profitable market, the K-pop industry could
not simply abandon the Japanese market, but
constantly had to gauge their promotional approaches as
political winds shifted. Success in the US pop market
has been the K-pop’s industry’s ultimate goal. Several attempts were made
between 2008 and 2012, but results were far from successful. Then Psy’s Gangnam Style
surprised everyone. After Psy’s success, the K-pop
industry quickly began to utilize the social media,
YouTube in particular, as a key marketing tool and
became very successful. At the same time, numerous
government agencies and programs provincial and city councils
research centers and grants and many more have been established
to support the expansion of K-pop worldwide. Since it is practically the
first time in history that Korea has been the center of
global attention that is not only positive but also very
profitable, Korea as a whole has been supportive on this
new national building project. For many decades, Korea
viewed culture as tradition to preserve and protect and
pop music was considered as “unhealthy” and problematic
for building a strong national identity, but nowadays,
K-pop has become Korea’s shining star commodity with
K-pop stars representing various governmental agencies as
honorary ambassadors, improving Korea’s national image worldwide. What sells and comes from
Korea is Korean both at home and across much of the world. Like this example by one
of the must successful K-pop bands, big bands,
Fantastic Baby, I will just play a little bit of that music video. (foreign language, energetic music) ♪ We gon’ party like ♪ (singing in foreign language) ♪ Wow, fantastic baby dance ♪ ♪ I wanna dance, dance, dance, dance. ♪ ♪ Fantastic baby dance ♪ ♪ I wanna dance, dance, dance, dance ♪ ♪ Wow, fantastic baby ♪ (singing in foreign language) ♪ Catch me on fire ♪ (applause) – Thank you for that. Next up, we’ll have from Cal
State East Bay, Peter Marsh. – Good afternoon, everybody. It’s my honor to be the lead
batter for the Mongolia team, for that area, to go back and
forth, we should be wearing caps with Ms and Ks on
it so you can keep clear as who we are. I’m gonna talk to you today
about M-pop but starting with K-pop, K-pop has its
origins of course back in about 25 years ago or so and very
quickly became a musical and cultural phenomena. Hundreds of artists, millions
of fans, as Eun-Young told us here in her slide here,
hundreds of millions, yes, hundreds of millions of
dollars in profit and a global reach that especially with
Psy and Gangnam Style is the envy of pop musicians around the world. In contrast, M-pop, or
Mongolian pop in Mongolia is a little bit more than eight
years old and is centered around just one guy. He’s known as D. Bold, or
Bold in general here, one of Mongolia’s most successful pop singers. In 2010, Bold announced with
great fanfare what he called the start of the Mongol pop project. He says, in his interviews
here, “I’ve been trying to “combine the old traditional
instruments of my country “to modern pop music, thereby
making a new style that “retains the beauty of the old traditions. “We can see this in a trend
that represents Mongolian pop.” He goes on to say that it’s
his passion that “our Mongolian “style of music would touch the hearts “not only of Mongolians but
those around the world.” For Bold, creating Mongol
pop was a way to honor his Mongolian culture and reach
a broader audience with a unique product and he points
out his inspiration to do this by the work of the pop music
he sees in Japan and Korea. Indeed, if the goal is to
commodify and propagate an idealized form of national
cultural identity, what better model to imitate than the K-pop model? I’m curious about M-pop and
how it compares to K-pop and really what is new about M-pop? To date, Bold’s efforts are
expressed in two CD albums, M-pop and M-pop Two. Each contain numerous images
along with the CDs and a number of songs have been
made into music videos. In terms of visuals, I think
you might be able to see some similarities to K-pop. For one thing, the attention
to dress and to style. This easy mixing of the
global and the national, it’s very cosmopolitan, this
scene we see up here. Notice how the national
element there, I’m looking in particular at Bold in his
suit and tie sitting next to a woman in her traditional dress. Notice how this symbolic
national is not shunted off to the kitchen, creating tea
for everybody else here, she’s right there in the mix,
right with everybody else as if suggesting that being
a hip and modern Mongol today means embracing both the
global, the national, the present and the past. Or if not embracing, maybe
at least shmoozing with the past, right? And as we’ve been warned,
such shmoozing can lead to the conception of new cultural
forms, such as the clothing line that Bold likes to show off whenever he gets the opportunity, fusing
the global and the national. What we see here is him kind
of wearing, it’s a modern dress based upon an old traditional
dress, the old traditional (mumbles) that he likes to show off. But what about M-pop and performance? Bold’s M-pop tends to be
more explicitly national and cultural than the K-pop I’ve heard. We see this in one of his
most popular hits from his first album called
Kheeryn salkhtai ayalguu, “The Melody of the Wild Wind.” This is a song dedicated to
the horsehead fiddle which you can see him holding
there, a two strong bowed folk fiddle that has great symbolic importance for the Mongolians. It’s believed that Chinggis
Khaan, it was Chinggis Khaan’s favorite instrument, and
indeed, this video begins with Bold playing the role
of a battle hardened 13th century Mongol general
seemingly stopped in his tracks by the sound of the fiddle
played by the Chinggis Khaan character, it seems to stir
his soul and touch something deep in his soul, some deep
element in his identity. (slow, smooth strings) (mellow music) (singing in foreign language) (mellow music) (singing in foreign language) Any similarities to K-pop
in all of this here? The upbeat tempos, the dance
rhythms, the choreographed movements, the impossibly
beautiful young people in this here, the highly produced,
seamless quality of the production here, everything
is very, very accessible. And this focus on the style,
focus on dress and this easy mixing of the
national and the global. The focus is on love but
of course it’s love for a symbolic national instrument
here and the cultural heritage that surrounds it. It is this hybridity of the
global and the national, the old and the new,
that’s this new trend that Bold is talking about,
something he says he introduced to pop music, but it’s hardly
new to Mongolian pop actually. Go back to the 1960s, to
the first official Mongolian pop group in the early
70s, the group is called Soyol Erdene, it’s called
Cultural Jewel, and we see in what they’re trying to do
also an attempt to mix the so-called folk traditions
with the modern idiom, the idiom of modern pop music. I just wanna give you a taste
of what this sounds like (upbeat music) Not as flashy as Bold’s
productions, right? But (mumbles) trying to do a
similar thing here, trying to bring together the folk
and the modern in this way. In addition, the group Soyol
Erdene was managed by the communist party. The party officials saw all
aspects of the performance. They supplied the
instruments, they determined the performing of venues for
these performers, they had professional composers and
lyricists compose the music and write the lyrics, the party
selected the performers’ clothing, they even determined
what their hairstyle should look like. Doesn’t this sound like
some of the K-pop groups, the kind of management
that they have to endure? And this is back in the
1970s, hardly a new trend. The party’s management of
pop and their music continued until the early 1990s, at
which time Mongolia achieved political and economic
independence from the Soviet Union. During the socialist party,
Mongolian party officials pushed this global national
modern folk mix as part of a political ideology that
sought to represent Mongolian culture as rising up, as
developing, as joining the international community as equal. “Look, Mongolians are
doing pop music now!” Kind of thing here. With the collapse of the
party rule in 1990, Mongolia’s pop artists abandoned this
political ideology like a hot potato, instead turning
to imitate the sounds and styles of global pop artists,
particularly those from the US and Britain. Bold himself achieved fame in
his group in his late teens in the group called Camerton
from the late 1990s. This group is closely aligned
with the music, lyrics, and look of the American
boy band Boyz 2 Men. In other words, they adopted
an explicitly western style, a style in which the national
or the traditional was kept out of sight, hidden
way back in the kitchen. Indeed, what is stylistically
new and (mumbles) about what Bold’s M-pop is doing is not the use of folk
infused musical style but rather its return to pop culture. The last time this style
dominated pop culture was in the socialist period, a period in
which all art was political and had serious political
consequences that Bold’s M-pop project was praised
by the Mongolian president a number of years ago and a
few years ago, he received a major award dedicated just
to artists, a major state award given to artists suggests
that his stylistic message of his music that one of national
unity and progress rooted in a shared ancestry closely
aligns with the political or cultural ideology of
the current government. This message of unity and
progress that we find in all of his music here comes in a
period of increasing disunity and fracture within Mongolian society. Long simmering social tensions,
exasperated by pressures coming from the global economy,
climate change, endemic corruption are shifting
and unsettling longstanding conceptions of Mongolian identity. Pop culture can be a place
where people turn to go away from these frustrations, these
fears caused by these kinds of pressures. It can also be a place where
frustrations and fears are often poignantly and pointedly expressed. My colleagues today, my
teammates I could say here will be exploring these alternative
visions of pop music in their presentations, so
thank you for your attention. (applause) – Next up, from the University
of Kentucky, we’ll have Donna Kwon talking about
performative hybridity, nationalism, and the
cultivation of participatory youth culture in Korean
hip hop, let’s welcome. (applause) – Hello, everyone. It’s great to be back at Berkeley. Graduated from here, so it’s
always nice to be back here. Okay, so in this short
presentation, I would like to explore how cultural continuity
and hybridity has been actualized in performance
through collaborations with Korean folk performers as well
as through the cultivation of uniquely Korean modes
of participation and live hip hop performances. But first of all, I just
want to kind of reiterate what Dr. Jung was saying and
just sort of question this idea that there’s this sort
of new nationalism going on in K-pop and also in hip hop,
so this nationalist trend is something that I’ve
noticed pretty much from its inception and there’s a
lot of reasons that Dr. Jung laid out for their being
sort of strong nationalist tendencies in Korean popular music. My second point is that in
general, I feel like it’s more productive to think
about nationalism trends less as an either or move
towards or away from Korean nationalist musical tendencies
and more as a drive to promote a global Korea through
K-pop or more specifically in hip hop. Here, I’m influenced by
Ian Condry who asserts that Japanese hip hop is an
expression of a global Japan, where quote “Neither global
homogenization nor localization “accurately captures the ways the musical “style has changed, unquote. Or in other words, we can
interpret nationalism operating in youth culture oriented
music in multiple ways, not just from the presence
of overtly nationalist or patriotic lyrics or from
the dominant presences of Korean lyrical or musical
content or instruments or other cultural signifiers. With this said, I would like
to take the remaining time to look at how cultural
continuity and hybridity has been actualized in live performance
in Korean hip hop to express a kind of Korean hip hop
nation that is both global and local and here sort of
echoes of what Dr. Marsh was saying as well, this
combination of the global and the national or the global and the local. One way that cultural
continuity has occurred in live performance is through the
collaboration with Korean folk performers. Perhaps one of the splashiest
collaborations between Korean rhythmic traditions,
Korea (foreign language) and (foreign language) and
hip hop sensibilities was initiated by this hanamori master himself, Kim Deok-su, and unfortunately,
this video doesn’t work, I’ll just describe it. In a 2007 performance at
the (mumbles) festival, I saw a performance of Kim
Deok-su’s team, (mumbles), collaborate with some of
(mumbles)’s B-Boy dance teams. Not only where the rhythms
of this hanamori style selected by Kim Deok-su to
coordinate with these hip hop beats and the b-boy dancers,
but the movements of the standing style of hanamori
with the acrobatic turns and the (foreign language),
the streamers that go around that are attached to the
players’ heads, also echo the movements, the circular
movements of the b-boys, creating this really spectacular kind
of synergy of kinesthesia and space. Because of its visual and sonic
appeal, this is one of the most tangible examples of
how Koreans have created sort of a synchronicity of
Korean folk traditions with b-boy dancing to create a
truly sort of glocal, global and local comprehensive
artistic expression. In live hip hop performances
at clubs in South Korea, I noticed a prevalence of
kind of a participatory sensibility that in many
ways I found to be kind of reminiscent of what I
experienced in my research on Korean folk traditions,
namely Korean (mumbles) rural drumming practices. For example, some common
participatory activities in (mumbles) are the emphasis
in embodied participations where you have all the dancers
who are kind of swaying and moving with the drummers,
synchronized movement and dancing, the calling
of shouts called (mumbles), sometimes you have (mumbles)
response going on, like (foreign language) This kind of thing going
back and forth, and also, sometimes in more longer
songs that you might here in (mumbles), there’s just sort of the repeated refrains that if you know the tradition well,
everybody in the audience would know and sing along. In the show that I’m gonna
focus on here, it was a Melon Impact show at Club
Holic in (mumbles) featuring Whitey G, Bugga Kings,
MC Sniper, (mumbles), 45 RPM, DG, Fresh Boys,
Four Minute, and others, and I found examples of
the sort of participatory sensibility pretty much
throughout the whole performance, so I’m gonna sort of detail
some of these that I found to be kind of similar to what
I experienced in Korean folk performances. So the first one is the
prevalence of repeated refrains. So one of the groups called
Bling the Cash, they had a song where they would have
everybody sing along. ♪ That sway, that sway,
that sway, sway, sway ♪ That kind of thing and they
had everybody repeat pretty much the same phrase. There was a beatboxer named
Beatbox Effect and which is, he’s a part of a group called
(mumbles) or at least he was at the time where you
would have everybody sing ♪ Four AM, four, four, four AM ♪ Everybody would repeat. ♪ Four AM, four, four AM ♪ And sometimes the participatory
sort of feeling of these hip hop performances would,
they would sometimes draw on other well known songs,
either just well known songs that are out there or well known
hip hop or funk recordings. Even if it means that they’re
not necessarily plying their own original material,
so one example is the group Bugga Kings, they
rapped over George Clinton’s Atomic Dog and then they layered ♪ Clap your hands everybody,
come on guys and girls ♪ ♪ Clap or hands (foreign language) ♪ Both in English and in Korean
and then they would have everybody sing along. ♪ Atomic dog, bow wow wow
yippee yo, yippee yay ♪ ♪ Bow wow wow yippee yo, yippee yay ♪ So everybody doing that,
even though it wasn’t necessarily a Korean song,
but it was a way for them to get everybody participating and into it. Another interesting example
I found from the same show was DG, kind of midway through
his set he had everybody sing along the anthem. I’m not sure where this came
from, but he had everybody sing “Hip hop, hip hop,
hip hop” to the tune of Battle Hymn of the Republic, so they had ♪ Hip hop, hip hop, hip hop ♪ ♪ Hip hop, hip hop, hip hop ♪ ♪ Hip hop, hip hop, hip
hop, (foreign language) ♪ Or “long live hip hop,”
something like that. So they had everybody singing
that and singing along and doing it as a refrain as well. Another thing that I noticed
was there’s a really high prevalence of call and response,
pretty much every single group incorporated some
type of call and response. The first group, there was
one female group, Four Minute. They kind of taught this call
and response thing at the beginning where they
actually taught the audience what to do. MC Sniper, I’ll play a clip
of this later, he begins his whole set with a really
extended call and response section, Bugga Kings, they
have a song called Tic Tac Toe and they’d have people
repeat the Tic Tac Toe part. (mumbles) would say, his
name is LEO, he would say “When I say LE, you say O! “LE, O, LE, O!” So he’s have people calling
his name back and forth. Another group, 45 RPM, they
have this really catchy song called (foreign language), or
“Happy Life”, and they have the sort of refrain chorus
where one line it goes (foreign language) and
everybody else says “Hip hop!” Kind of thing, so there’s
four lines to it, but at the second and forth line, there’s
these sort of responses that the audience knows and will do. Whitey G, really well known
actor as well, he had a repeated call and response with
his hit (foreign language), which means alleyway I
guess, and he would say (foreign language),
everybody else would go (foreign language), so there’s a ton of call and response throughout. Another thing I noticed
was the encouragement of synchronized movement,
so you have sort of that typical hip hop sort of
swaying of hands happening but you see that a lot in
Korean folk performance as well, it’s just a slightly
different kind of movement, in hip hop it’s more like
this, and then there was one guy, the beat boxer, Beat
Box Effect, where he actually instructed people to
move in a certain way. He would say “Okay, there’s
gonna be a point in the “performance where I’m
gonna tell you to yell, “like (foreign language) and
jump and yell like crazy, “you could even curse if you
want to,” and then there’s a section where it kind of
goes like, he just wants everybody to jump like
this, like all together in a synchronized manner. Another thing that I thought
was interesting is that they kind of create this sort of
heightened sensory experience and about three quarters
of the way, towards the end of the performance, they
actually sprayed water on everybody and it’s youth
culture in Korea, so it’s kind of a wholesome kind
of scene compared to maybe a hip hop show in the US, so
there’s not a ton of drugs or tons of alcohol binging and
that kind of thing, so they do stuff like spray water on
everyone to kind of create a more heightened sensory sort of feeling. Another thing that I think
could potentially be sort of participatory is the use of
cell phones, so a lot of people took out their cell phones
during heightened moments and I think this is sort of
participatory because it taps into this desire to share the
experience with other people when they get home and post it somewhere. And it’s also resonant with
what I’ve seen at a lot of Korea folk festivals too,
just tons of people taking video and you have to kind
of scramble to find a good place to do it. Okay, so lastly, I want to
take note of the multiple languages at play, most
commonly Korean and English, but there are also various
musical and textual clips of Korean and American songs
and genres that are faceted into the performances. With beatbox effect, I was
especially struck by how he single handedly embodies all
of these elements, depending on the context and audience,
artists such as Beatbox Effect may choose to highlight certain
languages, songs, or genres to performs Korea’s relationship
to the rest of the world in various ways. So for example, just as Psy’s
Gangnam Style was beginning to crest in international
popularity in the fall of 2012, Beat Box Effect definitely
weaves in its dubstep influence groove and call and
response and then proceeds to mash this up with To
Anyone’s huge hit, I Am the Best or (foreign language), and
here the “I” can be interpreted as Korea as he pays homage
to this unexpected high point in K-pop. So let me get a clip of this. (foreign language) (beatboxing) (cheering) (beatboxing) ♪ Oppa Gangnam Style ♪ ♪ Say what ♪ (beatboxing) (foreign language) I want to close by coming back
to the notion of nationalism in Korean hip hop. One theme I’ve noticed in
underground Korean hip hop is this idea of coming together as
one, as one nation in hip hop. In the late 1990s and early
2000s, rappers like Da Crew and Leo advocated for a
pan-Asian hip hop nation, and you can kind of see this… This song here. Where the lyrics are “From
Seoul to Hong Kong, from “Hong Kong to Taiwan, east,
west, south, north, no matter “where you are, we’re all one
in hip hop, we’re all one.” However, in this Club
Holic concert, I’m not sure the pan-Asian sentiment was
as strong, especially for MC Sniper who called for quote
“One nation, one people.” And maybe I’ll play a clip of this. He also released a collaborative album with the same name, One Nation. Perhaps it is DG who strikes
the most complex stance on hip hop and nationalism
in his periodic participatory performance of hip hop, hip
hop, hip hop to the tune of Battle Hymn of the Republic. In a way, I feel like he is
drawing the audience into kind of this nationalist sentiment
about the hip hop nation, but is also kind of making
fun of it I think at the same time, so… – [MC Sniper] Yeah! (cheering) Everybody put your hands up! Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, alright! Put your hands up! (cheering) Yeah, put your hands up! (chanting, crowd chanting back) ♪ Everybody want to put your
hands up, (foreign language) ♪ ♪ Hands up, hands up, hands up ♪ Okay, so I’ll end there, thank you. (applause) – Next up, we’ll have from
Loyola Marymount University, Charlotte D’Evelyn on
Speaking and Reinforcing and Transcending Borders,
Pop Music and Nationalism in Inner Mongolia China. (applause) – Since I submitted the title,
I changed it just a bit. I’m hoping to explore the first
title at some point, but one of the things that I discovered
as I was pursuing this project was the question
of what is nationalism in inner Mongolia and what
does it sound like? What does it look like and
part of this process actually involved searching for
nationalism and searching for the ways that that might be
sort of manifested through pop music in inner Mongolia. So I’ll first give you a
quick overview of what I would say are the flavors of pop
music that you might find in inner Mongolia. So the first would be the broader genre of Mandarin language, pop songs
often categorized under this broader category of minority pop. In inner Mongolia, this is
specifically grassland songs that oftentimes romanticize
the grassland through Mandarin language lyrics, the representative
artist being Tennger. This is (foreign language) in Chinese. Secondly, maybe some of you
are already familiar with Hanggai, they are globally
very well recognized. There are lots of groups like this. Using basically a combination
of rock styles with Mongolian instruments and
also Humi throat singing. And then as I was digging
deeper, I actually have not done field work on the
underground pop music scene in inner Mongolia. I discovered that there is a
very alive and well underground hip hop scene. There is also a rock scene
in Hohhot, some other big cities, and actually,
the video that I discovered through the beautiful nature
of YouTube and online research is that I found actually
a very good video example that I’ll be using as the
sort of centerpiece for my talk today, very short talk. And then of course, I would
be amiss to mention that most of my friends in inner
Mongolia love pop music from Mongolia, the country, that
is probably the most, the largest quantity of the music
that they listen to is music, pop music, hip hop, et
cetera from (mumbles). So just a very quick overview
of Hanggai, who I’ve seen live in Beijing, they often perform in venues for foreigners. They also perform at the
Beijing (mumbles) festival, and even when you look at their
look, there’s something to be said about their nationalism,
their ethnic nationalism, that they are very proud to
be Mongol, they’re very proud to not be Chinese and they
sometimes sort of emphasize that through their dress and
through their instruments. However, if you look at
their lyrics, most of their songs are just basically
folk songs rearranged with a rock beat and so lyrically,
their songs do not express that kind of ethnic nationalism
that you might be looking for if you’re looking for
where’s the nationalism in inner Mongolia or Mongolian
pop music in China. Tengger is another example
that I felt like I had to bring up in this presentation. He’s one of the only pop
singers as far as I know that actually broke out into Mongolia. I think his song Mongol, which
he sang in both Mongolian and in Mandarin, was popular in Mongolia, which is no small feat. His lyrics for this song are
fairly nostalgic, talking about the smoke of the cooking
from the cooking fire from the yurt, “I was born in a
family of herding people, the “vast grassland is the
cradle that nurtures us.” So the song tends to be
more thinking about the past and thinking about how
Mongolians used to live. References to Mongolian lifestyles. There is important work on
Tengger if you’re interested, Nimrod Baranovitch has written
extensively about Tengger and how he’s both kind of
conforming to the state model for what a grassland song
should be, but he also resists that a little bit and inserts
his own idea of ethnic nationalism in there. So as I was doing this research
for this project, I came upon this wonderful video
that kind of was everything I wanted it to be. It was the sentiment that
I heard from so many of my friends and contacts in
inner Mongolia were very much expressed in these lyrics
and thank you, a shout out to (mumbles) for helping me
with the translation here. So Ontsog Cross, who I’ve never
met and I actually haven’t contacted with them yet and
I’m looking forward to dojng so this summer hopefully, they’re
an underground hip hop group based in Hohhot and what I
want to sort of do through showing this video is to give
a little bit of a sense of what Mongols in inner Mongolia
face in terms of their ethnic identity and the
opportunities for nationalism which ultimately have to be ethnic
and not related to nationalism associated with a nation state,
because they live in China. But I think actually going
through the lyrics as I’ve done, I’ll be going through
sort of these line by line, just to piece this apart,
almost gives you a very good sense of the sentiments and
the history of inner Mongolia. So we’ll just start with the
video itself and then I’ll just go through the lyrics very quickly, and… (soft music) (foreign language) (rapping in foreign language) Moving forwards so we
can get to the end here. (rapping in foreign language) (foreign language) (mumbles) one by one here. So the lyrics go “the Khalkha
call us hujia,” which I guess is a demeaning term for the
Chinese in Mongolia, “but there “are other real Mongols
that the world knows. “It is known in history,
we are Ovor Mongol. “People, our Ovor Mongolchuud”, which is the inner Mongolians,
“we should stop dividing “between south and north,
please see that there are not “many Mongols in Ovor Mongol
because of the losses of “1947 and 1949, we are living
in the mistakes of history, “same as Manchuria. “History is upending us,
but Hohhot is still the same “Hohhot of the old Mongols. “Whatever you do, wherever
you go, you are Ovor Mongol “this is your homeland.” Okay, so first, “our Ovor
Mongolchuud, we should stop “dividing between north and south,” so I’ll go into this first. So this term that they’re using
probably translates better as southern Mongolia than
it does inner Mongolia. The ovor actually means
the bosom or the front side of a mountain and ovor Mongol
chuud is the term that’s now used for an inner Mongolian
as opposed to maybe Ar Mongol but usually Mongol just means
Mongols who live in Mongolia, whereas for the inner Mongols,
they have to use that ovor in order to distinguish themselves. They would be excluded
oftentimes from that ability to call themselves mongol
chuud, at least according to the Khalkha people. But of course we know that,
and those of us who work in this region know that these cultures straddle the boundaries. I like this map that Carole
Pegg has in her book that shows just how much these musical
styles, of course languages, language dialects and other
things are also crossing these borders, so the borders
are somewhat arbitrary, although they’re based
kind of on the Gobi desert, north and south of the Gobi. So going into the losses of
1947 and 1949, so they’re referring to the legacy
basically of the establishment of the inner Mongolia autonomous
region in 1947 based on the decisions of a few Mongolian
countries basically who agreed with the CCP that they would
join the People’s Republic of China which happened in
1949 and of course, this legacy of north and south Mongolia
is from the Ching Dynasty when these two regions were
separated and the inner part of Mongolia was more closely
administered by the Ching dynasty. So this idea that Khalkha,
and this is the majority ethnic group in Mongolia
basically are demeaning to the Mongols, this is something
that’s been written about kind of extensively. Actually Franck Bille who’s
here has talked about the sort of fear about the
Chinese takeover of Mongolia and the lingering sentiments
of sort of displeasure about what happened during the Ching dynasty. Uradyn Bulag has also talked
about this difficulty that the inner Mongols face as
basically not being able to be welcomed into the ethnic
group and oftentimes being called Chinese. This I think sort of sums it up very well. Wurlig Borchigud who is
a scholar writes that “Many inner Mongolians
imagined,” when they were living in China that they had this
transnational community of Mongols but found when going
to Ulaanbaatar upon recontact in the 1980s that these
Mongolians in Mongolia treated them with disdain and
considered them assimilated by the Han and this is a
sentiment that I experienced quite a bit from my Mongolian
friends in inner Mongolia. This other sentiment
“Please see that there “are not many Mongols in Ovor Mongol,” actually, they’re
dwarfed by the population of Han most prominently
seen in Hohhot itself, the capital, in which they’re
only nine percent of the population and struggling to
keep their traditions alive in the midst of urbanization
and Chinese influences. This can also be seen in this
genre of Mandarin language grassland songs, which is
how a lot of Mongolians make a living if they want to
be a musician is to cater to Han Chinese tourists. This is, I’m not gonna play
the video, but you can get a little sense of the lyrics
of some of these songs, they’re sung in Mandarin Chinese
by Mongolians and basically selling themselves and selling
a particularly orthodox version of Mongolian-ess to
the Chinese who want to see the Mongolians as a romantic
kind of backwards people. So it’s interesting, it seems
like throughout the song, they’re talking to the
Khalkha, it almost seems like a message to the Khalkha,
hey, “Listen to us, “we are legitimate,” but then
at the end, they actually sort of switch around and they’re talking to the Ovor Mongols and they say “Hey, don’t
forget, you’re inner Mongolian, “this is your homeland,” which
I think is an interesting move because they then at
the end of the song display this national symbol of the
nation of Mongolia which is very much a part of the
national identity of Mongolia, the soyombo, which I
found very interesting. So I’ll just sum up here,
there’s a lot more analysis that I need to do and I’m
looking forward to meeting them, but this piece Ovor Mongolchuud
by the artists (mumbles) demonstrates a unique sort
of nationalism that exists in inner Mongolia, one that is
ethnically rather than nation state based and one that is
also perpetually qualified by this modifier Ovor. They’re not allowed to call
themselves Mongolchuud, they oftentimes feel obligated to
call themselves Ar Mongolchuud. Also, as a meaningful marker
to separate themselves historically and to mark
their contemporary experiences of marginalization. At the same time that they
emphasize their identity as southern Mongols, they
demonstrate a longing to identify with the nation of
Mongolia to the extent that they even have it on their
body, that national symbol. A statement like this would
probably make the song impossible to pass Chinese
censorship, thus making them stay in the underground. These sentiments of inner
Mongol solidarity alongside a desire to achieve legitimacy
in the eyes of Khalkha mongols resonates with my
experiences speaking with Mongols and hearing about their
desire to be accepted as real Mongols. The medium of hip hop and
its attention to uncovering political injustices together
with the underground nature of this particular group’s
activity seems to enable these musicians to express
this widely held longing for legitimacy and I look
forward to following up with this group when I go to
inner Mongolia this summer. Thank you. (applause) – Next up, we’ll have Stephanie
Choi from UC Santa Barbara and she’ll speak to us on Jay
Park from Nationalist K-pop to Transnational K-Hip hop. (applause) – While many conceive of
K-pop as a native product, the K-pop industry has consistently
recruited Korean-American and Asian-American adolescents
under the belief that they have American musical
talent and the appearance of Korean race and what I mean
by American is they prioritize the western modernity that is
reflected in their American manners such as bodily gestures
or fluent American English accent which is embodied in
the Korea looking appearance, so once they recruit these
Asian-American or Korea-American adolescents, they go through
the Korean style training system where they teach
how to bow, how to respect elders, how to look humble to their fans. Then eventually, as Dr.
Jung said, they become the cultural ambassador of south Korea. And this draws a contrast
between how Korea-Americans are viewed differently in the
American and Korean mainstream media and also in academic scholarship. In United States,
Asian-Americans have experienced discrimination and assimilation
processes at institutional and cultural levels as
they were once barred from becoming US citizens, owning
property, and marrying white population and experienced
discriminatory housing policies, unfair labor practices, violent physical encounters,
and anti-immigrant discourse. Meanwhile, Korean-American
masculinity in particular is often deemed threatening
to the Korean public, so the widespread belief is that these
Korea-Americans do not fill legal and cultural citizenship
obligations such as national loyalty and tax
payments, which is not true but that’s the public sentiment in Korea. Military conscription is
definitely one of the most sensitive issue in Korea. All men should go to army
and serve in the military for at least two years when they’re
in their 20s and a lot of, not a lot, but it has been a
constant social issue when some of these Korean males try to
avoid serving in the military by through bribe or sometimes
they even cut their fingers to purposefully becoming
disabled person to avoid this military service. Dual citizens can avoid
fulfilling military duty by choosing the US citizenship
and there was a great controversy when Steven
Yoo who was one of the most popular singer in the 90s had
a dual citizenship and then he was keep telling his fans
and the public that he will serve in the military, but
then later on people found out that he abandoned the Korean
citizenship and acquired a US citizenship in order
to avoid military service, so eventually he was
deported permanently by the Korean government. So today I want to talk
about Jay Park who is third generation Korean-American
singer who debuted in Korea as a K-pop idol but then later
he lost his job as an idol singer for… For commenting anti-nationalist
comment on his webpage but then later on he returned
within five months as a hip hop artist. So Jay Park is a third
generation Korean-American, so he can only go to Korean army
by becoming a Korean citizen via naturalization but he’s
not obliged to choose either American or Korean citizenship. He was casted by one of
the biggest idol companies called JYP Entertainment
and debuted as a member of idol group 2 PM in 2008. A year later, in 2009, fans
found out his comments on his old Myspace webpage saying
“Korea is gay, I hate Koreans, “I want to go back home.” JYP and Jay Park apologized
officially, but eventually in February, 2010, JYP
released a statement that Jay will leave the group so there
was a controversy among the public and among the fans and
eventually he had to leave the band. But in July, 2010, just within
five months, he returned to Korea as a hip hop artist. He signed a contract with
Sidus HQ which is famous actor company and then later on,
in 2013, he established his own hip hop label called
AOMG and has been maintaining a successful career as a hip
hop artist and he signed a contract with Jay Z’s
Rock Nation last year. So my question is if Jay
left 2 PM because of Korean nationalism, it would have
been impossible for him to come back to the Korean entertainment
industry, but what made it possible for him to come
back within five months? And I argue that the difference
in band cultures and K-pop which is also called as idol
music in Korea and Korean hip hop, the difference in
fan cultures and K-pop and Korean hip hop shows how
Jay is perceived and treated differently to each fandom. So K-pop is a fan dominant
culture where idols are perceived as service workers who
provide pleasure and intimacy to their fans. Idols are obliged to be
polite and humble, especially to their fans, and respect them
and serve, provide service, which is, in the case of
K-pop, that would be intimacy. So you have to look nice, cute,
and intimate to these fans and because of the frequent
interaction between these idols and Korean fans, compared to
non Korean international fans, they have more interaction
primarily with Korean female fans and because of the
amount of time and money that Korean fans invest in these
idols, Korean fans hold the greatest power and
dominance over these idols and those idols are obliged
to respect fans as Koreans. So Korean nationalism is not
overtly expressed in the fandom but it’s rather expressed
as “You should respect me” and they maintain this identity
primarily as Korean females. In other words, to disparage
Koreans is to disparage his own fans, so I wanna show you… There’s a concept called fan
service which is, it can be expressed through musical or
non musical, verbal, sometimes a physical contact or interaction
between idols and fans and idols are basically
providing pleasure and amusement to these fans. So here, this is a video took
by BTS fans at the fan signing event, so you buy CDs and each
CD serves as a lottery ticket to get into these fan signing
events, so they buy CDs, as many as 100 to 200 CD copies. And then once you go to these
fan signing events, you get autograph from these idols, but
you can also have one on one conversation for about 30
seconds to as long as one minute. So this is an example of
how they have interaction and create intimate relationship
between the idols and fans. And you’ll see how they basically serve as a virtual boyfriend. ♪ Every time you (mumbles) ♪ ♪ (foreign language) ♪ ♪ So sweet, (foreign language) ♪ So you’re meeting these idols
one by one and move to the next one but then like this
guy here he’s (mumbles) from BTS, he’s not letting
the girl go, then like, this girl will feel special
because of this flirting. So eventually, what K-pop
pursues is the fan dominant culture, fans should feel
dominance over these idols and feel like they have
power to control and surveil and get respect from these
idols and one way of making this hierarchy or the dominant
position to these fans is to make these idols look like
children, so they infantilize idols by infantilizing these idols. So this is a music video of
BTS called Spring Day and you see the way that they dress,
the way they behave are, they basically look like children. In reality, all of these boys
are adults, but you feel like they’re children whom you
should protect, but in reality, you protect them, but at the
same time, you feel like you have power over these idols,
so they shouldn’t have real girlfriends in reality, they
should openly, they should reveal all their private lives
to their fans, otherwise, if you get caught with your
real girlfriend, then they would take revenge on these idols. So I’ll show you a snippet of Spring Day. (energetic music) (singing in foreign language) So they pursue infantile
image in K-pop, whereas in Korean hip hop, historically,
Korean hip hop started out as a localized form called
rap dance music which has now become K-pop or idol music today. But it started out in the
localized form called rap dance music and then eventually
these underground hip hop musicians and fans started to
argue that this is not real music, this is not authentic,
this is not what I would consider as real hip hop form
musically, so eventually they started to pursue music
authenticity by pursuing the American musical form of hip hop. So hip hop artists in Korea
put more emphasis in autonomy in the industry, making their
own music, in other words, they don’t rely on fan service, nor on the fan dominant culture. I’ll wrap it up with Jay
Parks’ recent music video. You see how he is counting
more on the Asian-Americans and the music video and also aesthetics very often shown in American
hip hop music videos, like jewels, lots of jewels and the
fashion style of this woman is also based on the Korean
Asian-American, or American hip hop aesthetics such as
she has these kiss curls. That is not popular at all
in Korean entertainment. ♪ (mumbles) ♪ ♪ ‘Cause we’re cooking all day,
we’re kissing all tonight ♪ ♪ Let’s forget about tomorrow ♪ ♪ Because we’re living
for tonight, (mumbles) ♪ ♪ Because we’re living for tonight ♪ ♪ Let’s forget about tomorrow ♪ And then this culturally
ambiguous outfits, it represents Asianness but it’s not sure
whether it’s from Korea. It’s definitely not from Korea,
it looks Chinese, but it’s more ambiguous culturally. So in K-pop, idols are the
commodity that fans consume, whereas in Korean hip hop,
fans consume music, so there’s no official fan clubs, no
fan meets, no fan signs, nor fan service, okay, thank you. (applause) – Alright, our next speaker is UC Berkeley’s own Franck Bille. (applause) – Thanks Caverlee, for
organizing this event. So I’m going to give you a
little bit of a snapshot of a very dark corner of the
Mongolian music landscape from a specific period, from
the time I did my fieldwork in 2007 until the time I
finalized my book around 2012, so that’s the book that
Charlotte kindly gave me a shout for and also some of
the themes are taken again in this new book that’s
coming out in June. So as I said, it’s kind of
a very negative discourse, very violent, so I just want
to warn people, if you feel like you don’t want to look
at that, that’s fine, please, I don’t want to impose that on you. So I’m going to be speaking
about three different videos. I will start off with (mumbles) Zug, Buu davar hujaa naraa, which was the one video that
I was told about when I was doing my fieldwork and I
was investigating Russia, Mongolian, Chinese interactions
and people were telling me look at that video, but it
was banned, but even though it was banned, people knew
it, people sang along, it was sang along that music, that song. It was heard in public
spaces, so it was kind of an interesting, I think it
was maybe one of the first anti-Chinese songs, definitely
the first one I heard about and it seemed to be kind of
led to other ones after that. The fact that it was played
in public spaces and that people engaged with it, it
doesn’t mean necessarily that everybody in Mongolia’s anti-Chinese. But there is clearly, there
was clearly a sufficient level of comfort to engage with
it, sing along, and to not make official complaints
about this kind of discourse. And the same thing about the
anti-Chinese graffiti that was found throughout the city. So there is a certain
level of (mumbles) violence is structural in many ways,
and as I argue in my book, to be a real Mongol is to be anti-Chinese. It’s kind of a definition of
Mongolianness in opposition to what China is or what
China is imagined to be. So the title of the song,
kind of brings this idea of excess that is very central to
this anti-Chinese sentiments in Mongolia, the idea of
excessive desire, that the Chinese have money for Mongolian women
and for the Mongolian land and the idea that they’re
rapacious and they want to take it back. The opening words of the
song are in Chinese, and even though they’re not
linguistically accessible to most Mongols, they provide
a really clear statement about what the Chinese
are imagined to be about. The rest of the song, so
the rest of the lyrics is in Mongolian, describe the Chinese
as poor, puny, worthless with tiny bodies and bad breath. The song calls for the removal
of Chinese from Mongolia by the most forceful means, by
killing them all, down to the last one if possible. The video for the song, equally
well known, reflects the lyrics with violent gestures
mimicking shooting, so I’m going to show you, give you a
few screen captures, so this is the Mongolian women are very
central to these narratives. (rapping in foreign language) (fast paced music) (rapping in foreign language) So by the time I was finishing
my book based on my research around 2012, there were
quite a few more of these anti-Chinese songs. One of maybe the most violent
ones would be this one by Gee, called Hujaa. So Hujaa is a very pejorative
term to refer to the Chinese that you might have heard
in the song before as well, it comes back, so basically,
he’s not very subtle about it as you will see from the
kind of video imagery that he plays with. So the video doesn’t
really need much unpacking, it’s very clear what he’s
saying, the title is Hujaa. And this is the kind
of imagery that he has. So I’m going to show you
a little bit of this. (fast paced music) (rapping in foreign language) So there’s a lot of
nationalist violence in these Mongolian videos, but of
course the visuals of someone surrounded by animal
carcasses, mouthing “hujaa” and waving a meat cleaver is difficult to top. And I wish my colleague
(mumbles) was here because he’s interviewed the rappers, he
would have a lot of things to say on the topic. So the third video excerpt
I’m gonna show you is from… It’s from a band called LA
Face in English and the title is, again, very simply Fuck Them Chinese. So the title as well as part
of the lyrics as you will see are in English. So the video clip, I’m going
to summarize a little bit what the video is about because
I’m just going to show you a little bit. So the video opens with a
Mongol youth being taken into custody by the police and
the narrative then goes back and retraces the story for the viewer. So we see an anonymous Chinese
sniper shooting into a group of Mongols, killing one of them. As the camera closes up on
the victim’s face, the video cycles through images of his
life, namely his happy wedding and his young widow giving birth. It then cuts to another
scene and we see the victim’s male friends confronting
a group of Chinese men and shooting them point blank. Significantly, the video
employs common imagery in its representation of the Chinese. They lack bravery, the snipers
shoot at a distance, and remains invisible to the
camera and they are depicted as scheming and secretive. The images in the videos also
play on a number of rumors about what the Chinese
are imagined to be like. These images are not easily
decipherable for non-Mongolian audiences, but to a Mongolian
viewer, they are immediately legible, so I’m just going
to give you a few examples of what they are. So we see these storefronts
in Mongolia with Chinese characters written on it. In 2007, there was this big
story in Mongolian newspapers, people complaining there were
so many Chinese characters everywhere and that (mumbles)
needed to do something about it and the Chinese were
actually trying to teach Mongols Chinese characters, so there
was groups of nationalists going around the city and tearing
those signs down, but only the ones in Chinese, Korean,
or Japanese, anything Asian. If it was in English, no
problem, it could just stay. Another image that we’re shown
is this seemingly (mumbles) image of a Chinese man, so
this again plays on another rumor of these groups of Chinese
businessmen behind closed doors and trying to plot
something about Mongolia, so that’s the story
that keeps coming back. By showing these images, they really plug into these narratives. But there’s also the
imagination of the Chinese as physically unattractive, as
a coward, as I said, shooting at a distance, not really
confronting the Mongols and shooting them from far away. And the video then concludes
with images of Mongolian nature and ends with the
Mongolian flag, so really kind of plays on those images. (singing in foreign language) ♪ Sick and tired from your shit ♪ ♪ (mumbles) make me wanna split ♪ ♪ I am (mumbles) not to
settle with (mumbles) ♪ ♪ I’m the (mumbles) suckers
wanna play with us ♪ ♪ And what I’m saying’s what
the fucker’s gotta say ♪ ♪ And my (mumbles) and
now I say (mumbles) ♪ ♪ Pick it up because a lot of people say ♪ ♪ (mumbles) but the rest
of them say no shit ♪ ♪ (mumbles) matter of fact,
(mumbles) motherfucker ♪ So there’s basically two
main points I want to make. I’ll try to make them in one
minute, that this discourse is overtly about the Chinese,
but the real message conveyed is really one of masculinity,
even hyper masculinity, and a discourse of
masculinity under threats. Traditional forms of Mongolian
masculinity emphasize physical strength, resilience,
capacity to drink, and these are being made redundant in many ways. The traditional imaginations
of masculinity in Mongolia are idealized forms of course, but
(mumbles) difficult now for such idealizations because
of the feminization of higher education and the workforce
and some men have felt kind of bypassed by this. Another thing we can see in
this very violent discourse, we actually see not as much
actual violence as we might see, but when it does occur,
it tends to be directed at Mongolian women who fraternize
with the Chinese rather than the Chinese themselves. And so hip hop for these kind
of discourses has proven to be a very active vehicle I
think for these gendered norms and hyper masculinity and
also racialized anger. So the second aspect I wanted
to point out is this… Very often when I spoke with
people in Mongolia, they would explain these as kind of last
ditch response to a small ethnic community under threat,
but I would argue that it’s not really about these
narratives are not really about being Mongolia, but more
about not being confused for a Chinese or an Asian person. The type of music, the
gestures, the hairstyle, the dance moves, they have
been imported piecemeal from the US. Note that the part of the
song I just showed you from LA Face, not to say anything
about a title, is in English and it mimics a certain form
of ganger rap that is easily recognizable to US viewers. Similarly, anti-Chinese
graffiti, I briefly mentioned at the beginning, are sometimes
in Mongolian but can also be in English. So the argument I make in
the book very briefly is that these anti-Chinese violent
discourse are partly directed at Mongols themselves, but
also partly directed at a western audience. The message is “We are
not Asian and look at us, “we are like you western viewers.” Okay, thank you. (applause) – Thanks, Franck. Next up, we’ll have Kendra
Van Nyhuis from UC Berkeley. She’ll be talking about
National Identity in Korean Underground Rock and Roll Music. (applause) – Thank you all for coming! I’m gonna jump right in because
I’ve got a lot to cover. So in experiencing and
analyzing underground rock scene that’s both locally and
globally focused, I’ve noticed that Korean bands often have
different views emphasizing their national or
international identities. For some, distancing themselves
from Korean-ness is a way to position themselves as
members of an international indie rock scene. Moreover, distancing oneself
from Korean-ness also works to separate bands from
associations with K-pop. Korean rock bands often
need to utilize the cultural capital that global flows
of K-pop provide while still differentiating themselves
on an international market. With the undercurrent of
authenticity baked into the concept of indie music,
the manufactured natured of K-pop can be a detriment to
Korean indie bands attempting to expand their reach abroad. One example of a band who’s
discussed this issue at length is Love X Stereo, specifically
the lead singer, Annie Ko. Annie is fluent in English,
her songs are in English, and she often does promotional
interviews in English for media, both Korean based and abroad. Love X Stereo has often
toured in Europe and the US and played at the K-pop Night Out at South by Southwest Indie
in Texas multiple times. Annie admits the band
would never have gotten the opportunity to play in
the US without the influence of K-pop, especially the sudden
and surprising popularity of Psy’s Gangnam style in the US. Korean-ness can now get a
band’s foot in the door for international touring, but it
can also keep the band from advancing in an authenticity
focused indie world. So I’ll play a little bit of
Love X Stereo so you could hear what they sound like. ♪ (mumbles) say that I’m the only one ♪ ♪ Teach me for better ♪ ♪ Your eyes say that I’m the only one ♪ ♪ The only one ♪ (passionate music) ♪ (mumbles) ♪ So as you can hear, (mumbles) stereo has an electro rock sound and
because of this, international fans and media often mention
the sonic similarities between Love X Stereo and K-pop acts. In an interview with
a K-pop fansite before South by Southwest, Annie said,
quote, “Consider our songs “as an alternative or
a substitute for K-pop. “We create songs on our own. “We do live performances all
the time and we always try to “present ourselves as an
international band like any other “band throughout the world,” end quote. You can see in this quote
that Annie does not totally disavow the connections to
K-pop, but instead pivots towards discussions of life
performance, individual creativity and international
similarity to show the difference between a fake
K-pop and the more authentic Love X Stereo. Annie even dislikes labels that
echo the K-pop formulation, like K-indie. When asked about K-indie, she
said, quote, “We just want to “be accepted as rock artists
who happen to live in Korea “and that’ll do just fine,
but there must be some kind “of process that needs to be
done, I guess,” end quote. I feel this quote best
exemplifies the anxiety that many Korean bands feel at focusing
on national identity. Being K-something helps gain
attention, but can end up placing them within global
circulation that they likely do not want to be in as rock musicians. Other rock groups use
different musical formations of Korean-ness to help
sell their music abroad. One group that many of you
may now be familiar with is the band Jambinai, who played
at the closing ceremony for the PyeongChang winter Olympics. Jambinai is a metal band
that uses traditional Korean instruments in their music
and I’ll play a little clip of that. (energetic metal music) While one may assume that using
traditional music as a way to appeal to a local
audience, this is not the case for local Korean rock bands. For many young Koreans,
traditional music can sound more foreign to them than classical
rock, hip hop, or pop music that they grew up listening to. In fact, according to the
lead song writer of Jambinai, Il-woo Lee, when Jambinai
first started playing in Korea, local fans treated them like
a typical traditional group, clapping politely and
listening intently like a traditional music concert. He said it wasn’t until they
started playing in Europe that they got the attitude
and vibe of the metal music they were originally looking
for from their audiences. The case of Jambinai shows
that on an international indie market, having elements
of local sonic identity in one’s music can propel
a rock band to new heights of popularity. Looking at the rhetoric of
foreign media around Jambinai shows the emphasis and almost
fetishization of traditional elements of the international
community includes in their global rock discourse. For example, one album review
praised the way Jambinai combines the foreign element
of rock with the dramatic emotionalism of Korean
traditional music and described the instruments’ sounds in
animalistic, naturalistic, and spiritual terms. Rolling Stones praised
the metal group for quote, “Harnessing the primordial
groove of a folk instrument,” end quote, and The Guardian
praised the use of the ancient, Zither-like (mumbles) stating
“Their instrumental fusion “style was thrilling, unexpected,
and perfectly controlled.” End quote. International media and
academics about the politics of local and global sound
often connect bands’ use of traditional instruments with
an authentic style and in Jambinai’s case, it’s
connected to an authentic style of Korean rock, interpreting
local sounds of traditional music as more Korean, despite
the fact that western popular music styles are actually more
indicative of local musical tastes and listening habits
of both Korean youth and the Korean rock bands of the scene. This formulation of Korean-ness
and rock can devalue bands that do not include traditional
aspects of music in their work which is the majority
of the rock scene in Korea. So switching gears a bit to
my own research and my work on intercultural interaction, many of the bands that I worked closely with in my fieldwork
from 2016 to 2017 were a mix of Korean and foreign participants. By foreign participants in
my research, I’m referring to non-Koreans both
ethnically and nationally. Typically, these were white,
English speaking males from western countries but I
worked with foreigners of many different backgrounds. I also worked with many
Korean diasporic returnees, like Korean-Americans or Korean
adoptees whose experiences fell somewhere between what
they described as the Korean and the foreign. As such, issues of national
identity often play a role in my discussion with fans. As a final example of
nationalism in the Korean rock scene, I will compare the
national identities of two bands, Tierpark and Table People. So Tierpark consists of
(mumbles), a Korean-Australian lead singer and guitarist
as well as three foreign male members, John and Nathan
from the US and Laurent from Belgium. I’ll play a little bit of their music. (energetic music) (foreign language) Despite being numerically
a majority of foreigners, Tierpark is often understood
by fans to be more Korean than bands with foreign members. This is for a number of factors. First, the lead singer
and the face of the band is ethnically Korean and sings in Korean. Second, her in between song
banters in Korean, even though her English is fluent. (mumbles) speaks in Korean
even if the audience includes foreigners, saying that
she wants to make sure that Tierpark’s Korean fans are also
comfortable at their shows. Finally, their social media
promotion, like Facebook, is in Korean first and then in English. These are some of the things
that fans and friends pointed out as why they see this band as Korean. Fans and friends also argue
that Tierpark has a more Korean sound to their music
or feel to their performances. Although most of my interviewees
has trouble articulating what that meant to them
outside of linguistic markets. I would argue that Tierpark
fits with a certain style of (mumbles) or psychedelic
female led rock that’s popular with other Korean bands like
Dabda, Gutenberg, and a number of others, which makes it
easier to associate them with that clique of performing
Korean rock musicians. While the lineup of table
people has changed a few times, for the majority of the
time I knew them, they had a reverse national makeup to Tierpark. The lead singer and guitarist
was Eric, a white man from the US, and the band included
Korean-American Ethan and Koreans (mumbles) and (mumbles). So I’ll play a little bit of Table People. (lively music) (foreign language) ♪ Gets you close (mumbles)
it gets you wrong ♪ ♪ (mumbles) ♪ And that’s a live performance,
but the vocals sound like that on the album as well pretty much. (laughing) Table People is described
almost exclusively as a foreigner band and
friends cited the lead singer and the fact that the song’s
promotion and banter was in English for the main reasons. I would also argue however
that Table People’s sound and style fit into what I
like to call white bro rock, with sliding and slightly
out of tune vocals, a beachy, repetitive guitar line, and
a gentle laid back or sloppy feeling that’s associated
with a lot of other all white, all male foreigner bands
that perform in Korea, like Used Cassettes, Rough
Cuts, and a number of others. Interestingly, both
the members of Tierpark and Table People tend to
refer to their bands without nationality, saying that they
are Seoul based or they were formed in South Korea in
interviews and in promotional materials for festival performances. However, members of both
bands also express frustration with their lack of national
status, saying that they were not Korean enough for national
support that other Korean based indie bands can receive
from the government, but not foreign enough to be seen as
an asset that could connect other musicians to perform
at circuits abroad. Some members strongly felt
that if a foreign musician wanted to make a living out of
making music, the best thing that they could do was leave Korea. So in this paper, I’ve tried
to buzz through a few of the issues of national identity
that I’ve found in the Korean indie rock scene. I look forward to hearing
our final panelist and the productive discussion that
I’m sure is likely to follow, so thank you. (applause) – Our last speaker is from
San Jose State, Marissa Smith, and she’ll be talking about
Under One Sky, Under One Han, Who Leads the Construction
of Transborder Mongolian Political Identity in a
collaboratively produced Mongolian Inner Mongolian (mumbles) Hip Hop Video. Let’s welcome her. (applause) – So this is basically, this
is a hip hop video song, a collaboration between, I
think it’s around 10 different artists from Mongolia, inner
Mongolia, (mumbles) in the Russian federation and Cuba. And it just came out last
month and it has again, very elaborately produced music video. I want to talk about
specifically how the image of Chinggis Khaan or Genghis Khaan as he’s more well known perhaps to some of us, how his image
reinforces this sort of “Yes, we were all Mongols, but all roads “lead back to Mongolia” and
this is a very strong leitmotif here and an additional point,
one reason I’m interested in this image of Chinggis Khaan,
a point that I wanted to make that I think is not perhaps
made too much when we’re speaking about hip hop or pop
music but that I think was definitely something that
was being implied in a lot of the presentations today is
that we need to take these people as serious political actors. It’s not just that these people
are being totally managed by the state or things like
that, they are very serious cultural producers is maybe
the word I would use here. And this, just to get right
into it, this video does this in a very interesting way, so
incidentally, the video is tied together by a song from
this 1970s state socialist party backed group, Soyol Erdene, which Peter was just talking about. They have a song called,
basically it translates into English as A Camel Caravan
and it’s this very interesting kind of self orientalizing song. It kind of has a similar
melody even to the song Peter played so it’s psychedelic,
it’s also recognizably Mongolia but maybe downplaying that a bit. So anyway, we see this
image of these caravaneers and they’re carrying the parts
of a (mumbles) and actually the song is called (foreign
language), which means “Under the roof of one
yurt” so one of the images that’s going on here is they’re
kind of wandering around, different parts of the Mongol
word outside the modern boundaries of Mongolia and
erecting a yurt for all of them to come under, so that’s
another thing here. And it’s interesting again that
this Soyol Erdene is played because this is I think a way
of them saying “Look, we are “cultural producers doing a
political thing,” and this is part of a kind of larger
argument of developing about the use of the image of Chinggis
Khaan, that is also saying “Look, I’m doing something
that the Mongolian state “is doing, I’m doing a political thing.” So one of the first artists
that actually comes on is an artist from a group called
Poorman Beggar which that’s a pretty political name to have, right? He’s inner Mongolian and if
you look at a lot of his other pieces he’s on the grassland
and he’s explaining in Mongolian “My name means
I’m poor” implying that he’s poor because of his minority status. In this song, his lyrics
are very actually not really political at all but he’s
representing this character of Mongolianess tied to musical culture and to the structures of the landscape but he also refers to Chinggis as a deity, (mumbles) Chinggis,
and he says that that’s what actually ties Mongolians
together is ultimately knowing the path of Chinggis. And this is the mausoleum
of Chinggis Khaan in Ordos, so it is
actually in inner Mongolia but right before this image in the video, we’re reminded
that there’s an even bigger monument of Chinggis Khaan
than this one which is near (mumbles), it’s actually
the tallest (mumbles) statue in the world so right before
they showed this one in inner Mongolia, they show an
even larger one in Mongolia to remind us again this is
where Mongolia really is. After that, we go to Russia,
the Russian federation and there is a (foreign
language) rapper named I think he usually goes in his own
videos as (mumbles) which is also interesting because he’s kind
of self orientalizing a bit but he’s not actually
credited with the same name I don’t think at the end of
this video but he actually, whereas Poorman Beggar, he’s
using a very understandable Mongolian, it sounds very
Khalkha, it’s poetic, but it’s not archaic, (mumbles) is
wrapping in (mumbles) and it’s very obviously (mumbles) but
it is recognizable, you can understand it if you speak sort of standard Khalkha Mongolian, and his lyrics are really
interesting too because they are basically saying “Oh, we have
this new path open to us, “it’s a new era,” it’s also kind of… There’s some openness to it
but it’s about kind of the, it’s very future oriented, and
this is actually in (mumbles) which is a western, it’s
in western Russia actually. I won’t explain why that is
because I won’t have time. So we go kind of to one
of the furthest extremes. We go west of the Urals and
we’re brought back immediately on the wings of this falcon
to Mongolia and this is sort of north central Mongolia which is associated with Chinggis Khaan. This guy has some very
interesting lyrics, very skilled and he says some things
about, there’s nothing really explicitly lyrics wise from
what I can pick up at least that’s as explicitly cynophobic
or xenophobic as what Franck was pointing out, not
that that’s kind of put there for people to recognize,
but he says some things like “People see development
and become jealous. “We need to remember the strength
of our union,” things like this and he does actually
make some references to the blue spot, the people with the
blue spot and so some sorts of biologized markers of
Mongolness and so on and so forth. Then we go to these fellows. These guys are members of Ice
Pop, so again, we often like to speak in hip hop studies
or whatever about it being a youth culture, of course,
not everyone is all that young anymore, right? These guys are kind of
elder statesmen of Mongolian hip hop and of course
they’re in this fur bedecked palatial gear with a portrait of Chinggis Khaan and then behind there’s also some of the other
Khaans, and they actually flat out list the various Mongols. They just give you a list
of about 10 different groups of people, (foreign
language), and then they say “These people are all part
of the united Mongol and then “they even say they are united
as if they are one person.” (foreign language). So this is really strong and
then they say they’re not under the fist of anyone, it’s
also very physical, the way that they’re acting here. You will recognize this fellow
from Franck’s presentation, I hopefully don’t have to go
into that, but we get some very militaristic imagery
and I would also just like to note that he has been really,
really rising in popularity. I wouldn’t be surprised if he
tries to run for parliament sometime soon so also to
kind of say when I say these people are political actors,
I do mean that and we need to I think pay attention to that. So finally, this is another
member of Ice Popand he, again, this is a reference to Chinggis Khaan that doesn’t necessarily
show to non Mongolians, so this is a cairn, this
is one of the mountains, (mumbles), this is one of the sites that’s associated with where
Chinggis Khaan actually (mumbles) Heaven and these
mountains to have the power to become Chinggis Khaan, to
unite the Mongols, and this is also represented by these
black banners which again are very much a sign of the
Mongolian state and displaying yourself with these is not
something that you do lightly. And his style is very interesting
and what he just says to kind of sum everything up is
he makes this sort of chant and he basically says “By the
tens, by the thousands, by the “10 thousands, by the
millions, by the billions, “all the Mongols will assemble.” Okay, and that’s basically my talk. I just want to finish the
slide to sort of show you that this is the kind of imagery
that the Mongolian state also uses so this is the
inauguration of president Elbegdorj in 2103, so it’s him taking the Oath of Inauguration
at another massive monument to Chinggis Khaan which is
in the center of Ulaanbaatar. So again, what these artists
are doing in this song is they are stating a sort of
pan-Mongolian international order which I think as
Charlotte’s presentation also showed is to some degree
recognized by Mongolians beyond the borders of Mongolia, but
it’s uneasy, but it is to some degree recognized by them
as well, and this is being done in a way that is certainly
in resonance with what state actors are doing and I
don’t mean necessarily in a way that the state is kind of
managing it, it’s more mixed up than that. Okay, I think that’s all
I have to say, thank you. (applause) – If we could have all the
speakers come up and we’ll have a few minutes of discussion, we can have 15, 20 minutes or so. – [Questioner] Thank you. So I’m neither a music
specialist nor someone who works in either Mongolia or Korea
so this is going other be coming from a space of great
ignorance, but the thing that I kept thinking about as I
was watching and listening to all the papers was the
figure of the nation and each of you in some way tried
to either locate or grapple with the nation in these forms
of music and I was thinking about how for instance in
American pop music we never say A-pop or hip hop, right? It’s the default, but there
have been trends that we could see where we see the nation
as an object also emerging in American hip hop or pop music. Every R&B singer from Beyonce
to Ciara all did a torture porn warehouse music video following 9/11. This is something that’s really
clearly expressing not just a trend in music industries,
but also a national event and sort of visualizing it all
at the same time, and I was wondering beyond these sort
of traditional markers that not all of you but some of
you have noted as flagging the nation whether there are
these event based narratives that emerged or current or
timely images that sort of appear in these forms? Thank you. – Can I answer to that? There’s a K-pop group called
BTS and they won the pop social artist award at American music awards. It was based on the votes
that they earned online solely by fans and they won over
Justin Bieber who got the award during the last six years and
then BTS started to get lots of opportunties to do interviews
with American mass media and one of the questions they
got the most was “Do you have “any plans to release
an album in English?” And fans started to make lots
of memes and video clips just satirizing how the American
mass media wanted to make them release English albums and
then there was one radio interview with an American
fan who asked BTS whether they have any plans to sing in English
and then the leader of BTS for just satirizing, was like
“Okay, thank you for your “advice, you should
definitely come to our company “and work for us” and then it
actually got lots of support from non-Korean international
fans, so that’s how I found out that this is how they
develop this kind of Korean-ness or emphasis on Korean identity,
not just starting from the industry but is also shaped
by these international fans. – (mumbles) any of this. I’m not quite sure what I
have to say connects with what Stephanie, you’re saying about this. As far as the timeliness
of these ideas of nation, it’s striking to me how
up until about 2006, 2007, we didn’t see these things
in pop music in Mongolia. It wasn’t the interest up
there but it’s the thing now. It’s like the thing now and you
see this and the things that Franck is talking about, the very negative kinds of portrayals of nation
in contrast to the Mongols, but then the kinds of stuff
that Bold is doing I was talking about, very sunny kind of
nationalism, but I think it’s kind of pushed by some of the same
forces at work there of some things going in on Mongolian
society that’s making people think very, very deeply about
the nation and want to express the nation, want to express
patriotism, not unlike the kind of patriotism we see
going on in our own country in the recent years, this
resurgence of kind of whatever it is, kind of a frustration
or something that it makes you want to embrace America
or you have the negative side of it in the white nationalist
and the rise of the alt-right and such and then you have the
other extreme, but all this is fairly new and it’s fairly
new in Mongolia too so I think in terms of expressing the
nation, it’s fairly recent and I think it’s kind of
coming from some deep turmoil in Mongolian society as a
whole, these kinds of things. But it’s interesting in Korea,
it’s kind of a different kind of different forces at work there. – (mumbles) Mongolia specialists
can answer, I just wonder as they’re progressively kind
of borrowing this western ideas and images, is
there any female artist in the industry? Because you talk about all this
masc singing, try to present this strong nation and leaving
the Asia but at the same time they are going very
progressive and really trying to associate them with the
west, so I wonder if there are any voice from female artist? (mumbles) – Marissa, do you want to say something? – Yeah, so the video I was
just talking about actually has some interesting, there’s
two female artists who follow the (mumbles) and the sort of
border guard act and one of them makes a comment about,
it’s actually quite militaristic too, there’s sort of this
(foreign language) which is supposed to be how Mongolian
soldiers would hail each other to all the Mongolian
women and then there’s one line that’s like “The
courage of the man is the wisdom “of the queen” or something,
but it is very much what Franck has described
in his work of women sort of telling other women “This
is how women should support “the Mongolian nation,” so it’s
kind of a self disciplining kind of discourse, I would
say, and it’s interesting that because there are only two
female artists and they kind of go back to back. The other person who’s working
on this in the Mongolian context is (mumbles) and
both of these women are also very modernly dressed, they’re
wearing suits and they’re not wearing traditional clothing. One of them is in Ulaanbaatar
so there’s this kind of specific femininity being
disciplined, I would say in these pop musical forms and hip hop forms, yeah. – I could add to in the
video we saw that Caverlee showed us in the very beginning
here, the little clip, that trailer, we saw that
the rapper Gennie, who is the first Mongolian rapper and
to this point, the only Mongolian rapper but she’s encouraging other women to do this, she
struggles with this concept of “How am I gonna portray
myself, as just a man with “male figures or do I have
something uniquely feminine “or from a woman’s perspective?” And she tries with that but
she’s kind of like a loan voice in this field of men
doing these kinds of things. – The name of the two artists
in the video, it’s Mrs. M, which I’m assuming is a
reference to Mongolia and I think the other person is named
Real Label, so yeah, there’s kind of authenticity
thing just in their names. – I was really struck by
Stephanie, your talk right next to Franck’s talk because
Franck was deeply masculine and nationalistic on that
side but some of the images you are portraying are men
being portrayed almost as young boys or androgynous
or women or something of this nature and in all of
your talks on K-pop, I didn’t see a real strong, let
me throw this out there, how are men portrayed? Is there a similar kind of
masculinity at work in K-pop? I didn’t see it, but is it
out there, is it what you guys have encountered? – (mumbles), yeah. I think they are trying to
portray submissive masculinity in the female dominant fandom. So K-pop started out in the
late 1990s when HOT debuted, the group was produced by this
one producer and they were going through all the training
system and then later on, this training process was
systemized by what we now call it as K-pop but then the term
K-pop is named by outsiders, so in Korea it is called
idol music, and by then these female fans were teenagers and
later on, so the generation of HOT is called the first
generation and nowadays like BTS or XO are called
third generation idols. Meanwhile, the female
teenagers who are fans of the first generation got older and
they are still participating in these fan activities
for third generation idols and you see the age gap between
them, so these female fans who have enough time and
money to invest in these idols are in their late 20s and even early 30s. They have enough money, they
don’t have to get permission from their parents to
go to all these concerts and fan meets and when they
meet these idols, these idols are trying to be polite
and respect these fans as (foreign language),
which means older sister. So you see how the ageism,
Korean ageism is at work between the relationship
between idols and fans. So these days, one of the ways
they consume K-pop is to have this virtual relationship. One is to treat them as virtual
boyfriends, but the other is to treat them as virtual children. Although these fans are not
married, the majority are not married but they treat them,
they call them as “my child” or “my boy,” so you see how
these images are, to outsiders it might look like androgynous,
I would say they are trying to portray adolescent masculinity,
so they very often shave their legs, they don’t grow
a beard or anything or they would wear sweaters with
long sleeves as if you know, mothers often make their
kids wear bigger clothes because they grow up. Also, with their facial
expression, they try to look very extremely naive, so to
me, it looks like rather than being androgynous, it looks
like they’re trying to pursue adolescent masculinity which
works very well with the older female fans and younger boy groups. – Stephanie (mumbles) comment. Within the K-pop there are
this specific aesthetics and formulaic characteristics and as noted by some other scholars,
the kind of masculinity or gender aesthetics within the K-pop (mumbles) boy band
known as soft masculinity or Asian masculinity, so to
accommodate Asian fans, the kind of masculinity that as we know
Americans are way too strong, so it has to be softened. So it is still masculine, not
from those examples that we saw but on some other more
dance, heavy dance oriented music videos that are quite
masculine, but at the same time, they need to project this soft side of being an accessible man,
so I would say the kind of masculinity we don’t see in
K-pop is because that genre itself is going for
very specific aesthetics and gender ideas. – Yeah, and I think that pop itself is already feminized right? So if you’re looking at Korean
rock or if you’re looking at Korean hip hop or indie
rock, you’re find I think more examples of hyper masculinity
or that kind of thing. – Yeah, I realized that after
I put my presentation together that I had majority female,
bands with female members and actually in the scene,
that’s not representative at all of what’s going on,
it’s majority men, and the masculinity performance falls
along genre lines so for punk music it’s very aggressive,
very violent, forward kind of presentation whereas
like (mumbles) or post rock is the more subdued, quiet. So the way that men are
performing masculinity is very closely tied to what
genres they associate with and the sounds that they’re performing. – [Questioner] (mumbles)
go across the papers, they’re so different, and
so just one of the things I wanted to cite was, it had
to do with gender but also that these genre, as you’re
speaking of them, like hip hop and whether you call it gay
pop or idol pop, I come out of Japanese performance studies
so they’re just really fraught, so each one of your papers has such particularities to
it, but that said, what I was realizing is that YouTube
is a medium that goes across and I know in China and some
places, it’s hard to get, but maybe from Thomas Lemar’s
work in animation I’m really interested in how the media
mediatizes your theorization of these forms, so as you
were bringing them up, we have the landscape, we
have the animal, but then you have the angle of the
camera, down or up or dark, and whether you’ve considered,
is YouTube in a sense that popular space, digital space? Also, how is that part of
your different performances? Because I guess I was really
thinking of Franck’s and then we go to the K-pop idols and
how it’s not just the softness of their bodies or their other
kind of masculinity, but it’s how the media is making them visible? – [Caverlee] I think those
are really interesting points. I’m afraid we have technical
issues, so I’m afraid as stimulating as this discussion is, we have to take a break here. I want to thank all our
panelists, some of whom have come from quite far away,
so thank you all for coming. We really appreciate it and look forward to the webcast soon. Thank you all. (applause)

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