[The Editors' Verdict] Visiting a Columbarium

My childhood memories of Chuseok revolve around ancestral grave visits. While only adults went to the mountains during the cold Seol holidays, even young grandchildren accompanied the family during Chuseok. My grandfather’s grave was in Yongin. Although there was an intercity bus, it ran only once every two hours, and during holidays it was so crowded that standing room was scarce, making it daunting to take. Following a dusty road and turning three corners, there was a hill with the grave. It was a ten-ri (approximately four kilometers) journey. A shortcut was to get off at the city bus terminal and cross over the mountain. The paved road, reddened from drying chili peppers, ended and the mountain path began, where the children would sit down hesitantly. The uncles carried their nephews and nieces one by one up the mountain. The simple ceremonial food to be offered at the grave was also a heavy load.

Grandmother always led the way briskly at the front. Though she leaned on a cane with a bent back, she climbed the mountain at a pace close to superhuman strength on the way to the ancestral grave. When the family was busy with simple weeding and preparing the ritual offerings at the grave, grandmother would sit on a corner. She would gaze at the distant mountains and take a deep drag from a cigarette. I guessed that was her way of expressing remembrance and longing. After that, my grandfather’s grave was relocated due to urban development and enshrined in a temple, so there were no more ancestral visits for a while.

Now grandmother has also passed away. She lived about 40 years longer after grandfather’s death. After cremation, grandmother was enshrined in a columbarium. But visiting a columbarium feels awkward. Following a winding single road, slowly climbing the mountain in a line of cars, you first encounter a parking lot. The scenery beyond feels more like a suburban shopping mall. A building decorated with light-colored stone and glass welcomes visitors. Passing through automatic doors, the lobby gleams with marble and sunlight pours in through the skylight. The way of memorializing is also awkward. Grandmother’s memory is trapped behind glass. A small urn, a photo from her lifetime, and everlasting artificial flowers are insufficient to represent the full ups and downs of her life.

Visiting ancestral graves involved small rituals like plucking a few blades of grass by hand or pouring liquor while circling the grave. Above all, it was spatial and multisensory. The stiff texture of the grass in hand, the smell mixed with cheongju (clear rice wine) and autumn air, the small ritual performed while barely supporting the body on the edge of a slope and bending the knees?these engaged many bodily senses. In grandmother’s small apartment columbarium, I feel at a loss not knowing what kind of memorial actions to perform.

The awkwardness of the columbarium reflects the laziness of Korean architecture. Unlike the West, which has accumulated long experience in architecture for the deceased, our ancestral graves were located on “mountains.” The Korean spatial concept of the mountain is important not only in itself but also in the route and experience leading to it. The failure to compress this urbanistically and realize it spatially is likely the root of the awkwardness. The interior space is no different. Flattening and simplifying the spatial and multisensory act of ancestral visiting into an eight-story stack results in a bland experience that is embarrassing to call a grave visit.

Of course, every time a new architectural typology emerges, confusion and cultural delay follow. Harmonizing with the surroundings, fitting the purpose, anticipating and proposing behaviors is the challenge and duty of modern architects. Korean funeral culture has changed rapidly within a generation. There is a sense of regret that architecture cannot keep pace with new funeral and memorial cultures. I hope for true memorial and remembrance architectural spaces, not real estate projects that sell remote land at high prices.

While drinking vending machine coffee, I tried to take a deep drag from a cigarette like grandmother, but a large no-smoking sign caught my eye. Visiting a columbarium for memorials is awkward after all.

Kyung-Hoon Lee, Professor, Department of Architecture, Kookmin University