[Yeit Suda] Light and Shadow of a Panjeotjip

The appearance of the shantytown along Cheonggyecheon in Seoul during the 1950s. Photo by National Archives of Korea

[Asia Economy Reporter Kim Heeyoon] “People living in heaven do not need to think about hell. But the five of us lived in hell while dreaming of heaven. There was not a single day when we did not think about heaven, even for just one day. Because everyday life was tedious.”

The streetlight illuminating the alley flickers, and the light from an electric bulb seeps through the window cracks. In the twilight, the scene of small lights gathered and closely packed among the shanty houses might be the fragments of ‘heaven’ dreamed by Youngho, the eldest son of dwarf Kim Bul, who lived there with his family, from the small ball shot up by the dwarf. The landscape of the hillside village in the works of artist Jung Youngjoo, currently exhibited at Hakgojae Gallery in Samcheong-dong, Seoul, shone with small lights comforting those who envision heaven despite living through hell.

Although thatched houses or small houses where the poor lived existed even in the Joseon Dynasty, shantytowns were formed in earnest during the Japanese colonial period. As poor farmers from rural areas who lost their homes due to Japan’s ruthless exploitation gathered in Seoul for survival, shantytowns began to form in areas outside the Four Great Gates such as Yongdujeong, Ahyeonjeong, and Ichonjeong. After liberation and the Korean War, as the number of compatriots returning from overseas and refugees moving south surged, the shantytowns expanded, prompting the government to begin forced demolitions.

In Lee Ungno’s painting “Shantytown (1953),” which meticulously depicts the shantytown scenes of that era, the jars and carts in the alleys between houses without walls catch the eye. Next to them, the figure of a woman crouching and stoking a fire under a cauldron to prepare meals for her family offers a glimpse into the daily lives of shantytown residents who endured their hard lives day by day.

(Left) Lee Man-ik, Landscape of the Russian Consulate Ruins, 1968, oil on canvas, 112x162cm, artist's collection. (Right) Lee Man-ik, Landscape of the Russian Consulate Ruins 2, 1970, oil on canvas, 130x161.5cm, artist's collection. Photo by Seoul Arts Center

Despite ongoing demolitions, the urban shantytowns increased further in the 1960s as rural-to-urban migration accelerated. In Lee Manik’s 1968 work “Scene of the Russian Consulate Ruins,” well known also for the musical “Empress Myeongseong” poster, the consulate tower standing tall among the densely packed shantytowns creates a strikingly incongruous atmosphere. Two years later, in the artist’s “Scene of the Russian Consulate Ruins 2” (1970), a woman and child dressed in hanbok stand gazing at the same area, now a barren ochre-colored wasteland.

In June 1969, Seoul City carried out a large-scale demolition of 550 buildings in Jeong-dong shantytown, the area depicted in the paintings. The 2,645 residents of Jeong-dong shantytown, suddenly homeless and driven onto the streets, staged massive protests in front of Seoul City Hall, leading to stone-throwing clashes with police and tear gas suppression, becoming a focal point of social controversy. The ruins captured on the canvas by the artist reflected the sense of loss felt by the evicted residents. In 1969, Seoul had a total of 543,645 houses, of which 181,000 were shacks, meaning one in every three households in Seoul lived in a shanty.

The largest shantytown in Seoul was located along Cheonggyecheon. The Gwangju Mass Complex Incident in 1971, which shocked society, was a riot that erupted when evicted residents from this area, relocating to Gwangju County in Gyeonggi Province, did not receive the promised housing and jobs, leading to anger over harsh living conditions.

The wounds of that time were soon forgotten, but even now, people who remember and long for those scenes visit the experience center recreated at the Cheonggyecheon Museum in Majang-dong, Seongdong-gu, Seoul, to recall those days. The shacks that became the foundation for those who came to Seoul chasing dreams through the Japanese colonial period, the Korean War, and industrialization are now remembered by the public in a preserved form. Where might the lives of those who lived in hell while dreaming of heaven be now?

Editor's Note Yeitsuda (藝It Suda) is an abbreviation for “Art Talk,” a column covering issues and trends across the arts, including music, fine arts, and performances.