Heemoon Lee is a certified trainee in Gyeonggi minyo, National Intangible Cultural Heritage No. 57, and the son of Gyeonggi minyo master Ko Jurang. He majored in film production and directed music videos before starting his professional career as a singer at the age of 27 after following the advice of Master Lee Chun-hee. Based on a long, distinguished tradition, Heemoon Lee pursues music that crosses the borders of different genres. Lee was the recipient of the President’s Award at the 16th National Folk Song Competition in the comprehensive category in 2010, the Folk Song Award at the 2014 KBS Traditional Music Awards, and the 23rd Young Artist Award in 2015. He also received a commendation from the Minister of Culture, Sports and Tourism at the National Gugak Center in 2021 and from the Seoul Culture Awards in 2021.

If a person who performs pansori has to sing five pansori works on their own, a person who performs Gyeonggi minyo has to sing 12 jabga songs. I had long wanted to sing the full version of the 12 japga one day, and that dream came true last year. I suggested holding the event to the Arumjigi Culture Keepers Foundation because the natural sound and echo of the hanok is really good. It was a concept of an event in which I actually lived in a hanok and invited guests every day to enjoy songs, refreshments, and talk. Unlike a concert hall, it was a space where only a small audience could be accommodated, and so we needed a whole month to make this happen. It takes about two and a half hours to complete 12 songs, but we mixed in some talking and organized a four-hour performance. One day, we even performed for five hours. A traditional singer goes into the mountains once every summer and winter, at which time they learn how to sing properly only from their teacher all day long. I thought the performance I was putting on was that kind of training. It was both very special and very scary to perform for that length of time with just one janggu (double-headed drum) in front of me. I started a little recklessly, not knowing if my neck would be okay throughout an entire one-month performance period, but fortunately things turned out well right up until the end.

After finishing the existing series and starting a new project, I thought it would be nice to talk about this in person. I thought about my childhood—up until I started singing minyo—and how it could support my move to sing minyo professionally. The new series consisted of changed songs with motifs from traditional folk songs and other songs newly composed by Taehoon Lee, the guitarist in the band Cadejo. I wrote the lyrics myself to tell my own story. Following last year’s first work, Gangnam Oasis, we are planning to perform the second part of the Gangnam series this November.

If you look at the history of Gyeonggi minyo, you’ll definitely come across Master Chunjae Park, who was a star during the time of Emperor Gojong at the end of the Empire of Korea. His satirical songs were so witty that it’s no exaggeration to say he was the godfather of today’s Korean “gag” genre of comedy. Gyeonggi minyo has content that is both joyful and sad, but the sad songs were expressed in an ironic way. They are mostly performed in a major scale, or sung with a really gorgeous melody. In my opinion, it’s a little like black comedy. I think such aspects represent the personality of Seoulites and are the charm of Gyeonggi minyo.

I’d been thinking a lot about making a change since 2008, a time when I started to produce my own performances. But I didn’t make as much of a change back then as I’d hoped. Then, in 2013, I asked Eun-Me Ahn, a contemporary choreographer, to direct my performance, and I came to try a number of different things, many of which were influenced by Ahn. As she put it, “When you do what you want to do, you shine the most.” She went on to urge me to do what I wanted to do. She told me to perform like my favorite singers, such as Min Hae-kyung and Madonna, if I wanted to, saying that she would become my shield as the director. I think the biggest inflection point came at that moment when I was highly inspired and motivated.

At a time when male vocalists for Gyeonggi minyo were rare, I recalled the memory of imitating female vocalists while gazing at my mother when I was a child and singing in a gender-indeterminate costume. It was just fun. It’s hard to be accepted in Korean society when you’re different in such a way—even more so because I performed traditional music—but thanks to Eun-Me Ahn, I was able to gather the courage to wear such clothes and makeup. At first, I think I had a hard time mentally without even realizing it. When I wore shiny clothes, for example, I’d sometimes suffer from hives and reflux esophagitis caused by stress. But after going through that process, I was able to become bolder, maybe because I had become immune to it all. Whether it was a wig or high heels, once I tried it, it wasn’t a big deal anymore. Contemporaneity is essential regardless of the field you’re in, and fashion philosophy regarding visuals is important today. Wouldn’t people think that traditional music should be in museums if people working in the field always showed the same unchanging image? Such closed-mindedness didn’t suit me. I wanted to do it differently from others with the frame of mind of offering the audience a fantasy on a traditional music stage. When I actually did it, I felt like I was morphing into another person as a performer, which allowed me to gain confidence. The experience of directing music videos before becoming a singer also influenced me in terms of creating visuals and fantasies. I think the visuals I pursued can now be seen as an example for my colleagues and younger people in the field.

I think people come first. Rather than meeting for the purpose of making some music, I start working with the idea that I want to collaborate with the musicians I’ve known while working. There are musicians who are active in other genres, but surprisingly close to traditional music. When you collaborate with someone like that, boundaries are broken and principles are rewritten. But I try to keep my traditional sound and singing style. I’ve built up my basic skills and singing ability enough to persuade the other person I’m working with—no matter who the musician is—of my talent. I also emphasize to younger musicians that we must always have solid basic skills so as not to be rattled when in front of other musicians.

First of all, listeners can’t really feel a significant difference in my sound from music played elsewhere in the world. I borrowed a lot of general “band sounds” and made songs by incorporating folk songs that fit various different rhythms. There’s an element with SsingSsing that makes you feel Korean. It comes from the unique vocalization of Gyeonggi minyo. Even if the styling is Western, the Korean nuance and natural gestures to it may have approached listeners differently. It’s not that unfamiliar, but it feels fresh at the same time.

I don’t think tradition stays anywhere or is taxidermized. I think tradition is always alive. What we call a tradition is something that was popular and enjoyed by many people in the past, and the reason why it has been able to continue to this day is because of its powerful vitality. In addition, it’s impossible for someone to imitate the sound of others. Somebody’s voice, their oral structure, and the feeling of a person are all different, so each person’s song eventually becomes unique. When I sing, it’s Heemoon Lee’s song. Unlike a tangible heritage, such as a relic, I think intangible heritage is alive and its spirit or DNA is transmitted.

Anyone can think. What it comes down to is the difference between actually trying or merely thinking about it. My work is never perfect. Only when you put it out into the world can you know what it’s going to be like and what people will think. Even if you can predict the results, you don’t know the real outcome until you actually carry it out. So, after releasing my music first, I complemented it and made it into a repertoire through trial and error. If the situation allows for it, I’d say you should try all sorts of things.

A performance of “Lee Heemoon Project NAL” is being held at the Tongyeong International Music Festival on April 2. OBSG is also preparing to release its second album. The performance will take place at Blue Square and the Gyeonggi Art Center from May to June. We’re going to release new songs along with existing songs. We’re also preparing to stage Gangnam Oasis in Tokyo in early June. In addition, I’m working on the second piece for the Gangnam series. In the second half of this year, I plan on performing some of my music at an exhibition featuring a Korean artist in L.A.