One who constructs an image_CHUN Wooyong historian
In the Korean language, the verb "jitda" possesses a unique depth of meaning. It is employed with nouns such as expressions, laughter, tears, and sighs—immediate manifestations of psychological states—as well as with literary works like poetry and prose, which distill intellect and emotion into refined articulation. The verb also extends to fundamental acts such as farming, cooking, tailoring, and construction. While it can be translated into English as "make," "build," or "construct," none fully encapsulate its nuance. "Jitda" conveys the idea of creating with sincerity and devotion, imbuing the process with heartfelt intention. For photographer Ha Man-seok, photography itself is an act of "jitda."
Within the historic precincts of Gyeongbokgung Palace, an architectural masterpiece of 19th-century Korea, Ha Man-seok meticulously captures foreign visitors clad in hanbok, traditional Korean attire crafted by Korean artisans. His work explores the profound interplay between heritage and the contemporary, examining the fluidity of cultural identity through his lens.
On August 16, 1945, Soviet observer Fania Isayakovna Shabshina described the liberation of Korea as "an endless sea of white, swaying and surging," as multitudes took to the streets in traditional white garments. To her, this attire symbolized the collective identity of the Korean people. Historically, clothing has primarily served to express communal rather than individual identity. Across different cultures, "national costumes" exhibited consistent foundational designs, with variations dictated largely by social status through fabric and color distinctions. Those of the same social class wore garments of similar form, with only minor differentiations in stitching techniques and laundering frequency. The notion of clothing as a medium for personal expression only emerged with heightened intercultural exchange and the emancipation of individuals from collective societal structures.
The Age of Exploration, initiated by Christopher Columbus’s transatlantic voyage in 1492, precipitated a rapid acceleration of global exchange. With the intensified movement of people and goods, cultural interactions proliferated, leading to the integration of the four dominant textile traditions—silk, cotton, hemp, and wool. The earliest convergence of fashion styles occurred in Europe, which dictated global sartorial standards due to its hegemony over trade and exchange. In Korea, Western attire came to be known as "yangbok" (洋服), a term derived from the linguistic convention of prefixing "yang" (洋), meaning "Western" or "modern," to foreign imports. To Koreans, "yang" signified both innovation and civilization.
The first Korean to adopt Western dress was Seo Gwang-beom in 1881, during his diplomatic mission to Japan. In 1895, the monarchy issued the "Danbalryeong" (断髮令), a decree mandating men to cut their topknots and adopt Western-style short hair. The king himself conformed to this edict, pairing his modernized hairstyle with Western clothing. Although the decree was soon rescinded, those who had already altered their appearance felt compelled to adopt Western-style dress and footwear as well.
During this period, Korea saw an influx of foreigners dressed in traditional Japanese "wafuku" (和服) and Chinese "hobok" (胡服). Koreans, in turn, selectively incorporated elements from multiple cultural traditions into their attire. A fully traditional Korean ensemble—comprising a gat (hat), manggeon (headband), baji (trousers), jeogori (jacket), durumagi (overcoat), and jipsin (straw sandals)—was increasingly perceived as antiquated. A growing number of individuals adopted a hybrid style, blending Western and traditional elements. Women’s fashion also evolved: skirts shortened, collars heightened, and color palettes diversified. Progressive women, known as "sinyeoseong" (新女性), fully embraced Western attire, or "yangjang" (洋装). Amidst these transformations, traditional Korean clothing—reshaped through cross-cultural exchanges—came to be referred to as "Joseonot" (朝鮮衣). In the colonial context, this new designation signified its relativization: under Japanese rule, "Joseon-style" carried connotations of obsolescence, leading many Koreans to disparage their own traditional attire.
Following Japan’s initiation of the Pacific War in 1941, the colonial government imposed wartime uniforms on Korean residents—men were required to wear "gukminbok" (國民服), resembling military dress, while women had to don "mombbe," a Japanese-style work outfit. Noncompliance resulted in social exclusion, as adherence to these regulations became a measure of allegiance. However, after Japan’s defeat at the Battle of Midway in 1942, Koreans began to resist. During frequent air raid drills, many defiantly wore traditional white clothing, believing that American bombers would distinguish them from the Japanese. In retaliation, Japanese authorities attempted to suppress this act of defiance by staining white garments with black ink, erasing visible markers of Korean identity. On August 15, 1945, Japan surrendered, and Koreans declared their liberation through a powerful visual statement—donning pristine white traditional garments in the streets. What Shabshina witnessed was, in essence, a "wave of liberated identity."
With Korea’s liberation and subsequent division, the term "Joseonot" was replaced by "hanbok" (韓服), reflecting a shift in both nomenclature and cultural perception. The introduction of synthetic fabrics and advances in dyeing technology altered hanbok’s materials and colors, yet its presence in daily life declined. The adoption of Western-style school uniforms and military attire further transformed Koreans’ sartorial sensibilities. By the 1960s, hanbok had become relegated to ceremonial occasions such as weddings and holidays, evolving into an increasingly luxurious formal garment. The hanbok of the modern era is thus distinct from its historical antecedents.
The transformation of Gyeongbokgung Palace mirrors this trajectory. Originally constructed in 1395 as the main palace of the Joseon dynasty, it was destroyed during the Japanese invasions of 1592 and remained in ruins until its reconstruction in 1867. However, in 1915, the Japanese colonial government demolished much of it to host the "Joseon Industrial Exhibition." By 1926, the Government-General Building, an emblem of modernity and Japanese dominance, overshadowed its remnants. While the colonial structure symbolized progress and civilization, Gyeongbokgung was reduced to a relic of primitivism. The Japanese edifice was only demolished in 1995, marking the beginning of the palace’s restoration. Yet, contemporary Gyeongbokgung exists within a radically transformed urban landscape, encircled by towering Western-style skyscrapers. Today, it stands as a symbol of "isolated tradition," striving to coexist with modernity.
Over the past decade, hanbok rental shops have proliferated in heritage sites such as Bukchon and Jeonju Hanok Village, attracting visitors eager to experience traditional attire. For both Koreans and foreigners, wearing hanbok in these settings offers an immersive yet exoticized encounter with history. The sensation of novelty is not exclusive to foreign visitors—hanbok and hanok (traditional houses) have themselves evolved through continuous cultural exchange and adaptation. As historian Eric Hobsbawm observed, traditions are "invented." Korean cultural elements have always absorbed global influences, enabling foreigners to recognize a universal human beauty within them.
Photographer Ha Man-seok captures the convergence of disparate cultural traditions across time and space, revealing an aesthetic harmony beyond conventional boundaries. Just as Koreans wearing Western suits is unremarkable, so too should the sight of foreigners in hanbok be embraced. His photographs challenge the misconception that traditions exist in isolation, instead inviting us to reconstruct our perception of beauty and cultural universality. Within Ha Man-seok’s photographic world, the intrinsic beauty of humanity shines ever more brightly.
