samulnori

The lack of music made me a little nervous as I positioned an hourglass-shaped drum on the carpet in front of me. Nine other people were already striking their drums in rhythm, with a mallet in their left hands and a wooden stick in their right. I did not pick up on a distinct direction before the group changed from one rhythm to the next, just the collective movement of arms and shoulders in the kitchen section of a furniture store. Welcome to Samulnori, the Korean traditional drums.

"Samul" means four parts and "nori" means play. Samulnori consists of playing four different instruments. There is a small and large gong (Kkwaenggari and Jing) a barrel-shaped drum (buk), and the instrument I was playing, the Janggu. It began as a folk music of the farmers in Korea. Within the first couple of days of arriving in Hongseong, I was invited to participate in Samulnori by my co-teacher. The last two ETAs at Galsan Elementary School came to the Samulnori classes. I was excited to begin, but due to scheduling conflicts my first day did not happen until last night when Yuna and I drove out to the furniture store for practice.

I appreciate printed music detailing the time signature, specific rhythms, and where I am supposed to be at any given time. You could say that it is a comfy security blanket. But Samulnori seems to be more malleable. I think the percussionists know which rhythm to move to based off the beating-pattern of the Kkwaenggar (small gong: about the size of a tambourine, held with one hand while being struck with a hard mallet with the other) player. Last night it just felt like they were reading each others' minds. The first instructions I received were not on how to hold the mallet and drum stick, but on how to feel and move with the beat. Because everyone is sitting on the ground, there is no swaying back and forth, just a general vertical motion of the torso and a bounce in the arms; the teacher gave the example of riding a horse.

After a while we worked on a few rhythms. The mallet makes a deep base sound and I was told to say Koom when hitting with it. The wooden stick strikes the rim under the head of the drum and makes a higher, brighter sound, Ta. When both are struck together, I say Tong. The rest was a game of follow the leader. Because of my music background-and once I could feel the beat of the music-I started rapidly picking up the different rhythms. My co-teacher said that I have natural talent :). We were all playing one rhythm and the Tong was so pervasive that it appeared to take over my heartbeat. When everyone stopped at the same time, the unexpected silence was more emphatic than the music.

Regardless of potential hearing damage, it was a splendid evening. I loved the collective pulse and the general camaraderie that comes from being in a musical group. I am definitely looking forward to next Thursday evening.

Samulnori drums:

jonggu

jing

kkwaenggari

buk