In a city the size of Seoul, loneliness is a not an emotion felt only by the dispossessed or socially misfit, but is more of a mode in life. It's simply one of the inevitable rhythms of a place constantly in flux and motion, where we sometimes get caught on our own, between friends and familiar faces. On this particular evening, when I was walking from Myungdong to Chungmuro during an in-between moment of my own, I caught this young woman sitting motionless on a bench, oblivious to the business going on inside the "family restaurant" in front of which she was sitting, as well as to any passersby.
What she is thinking or even the state she is in is something about which I can offer little more than conjecture. I never saw her face and she never moved a muscle while I shot off several frames of her. She may have been catching a snooze before a whole slew of friends arrived, she may have just received a call from her boyfriend informing her that he had found a new love, or she may have just been feeling a bit sick. In the end, who know? What is more important is the impression this particular moment had on me, as well as the emotional color that this particular moment had when I pressed the shutter button.
For me, this picture capture a particular kind of feeling that I get as person who generally walks around this large city alone; in this moment, I felt an instant of connection with another lone soul who seemed to be sharing the lonely mode with me.
What make the picture work all the more is the obvious contrast between the apparent loneliness of the main subject and the advertisement behind the bench upon which she is sitting. Roughly translated, the message reads "A restaurant for getting together," but I am sure this translation will be contested because of its somewhat complex layering of elements: a combination of Korean adaptation of English words called "Konglish," a play on words via the Korean pronunciation of an English word, as well as a popular usage of pure Korean words. To break these elements down in the most specific way:
1) The Korean pronunciation of the English word for restaurant is "res-to-rang" (레스토랑). This is cognitively different from the Korean word for restaurant, which is shik-dang () and generally refers to a restaurant selling non-Western food. When people say "res-to-rang," they are generally referring to Western food; the concept of "family restaurant" has more to do with large food chains such as TGI Friday's, Outback Steakhouse, or Sizzler.
2) The sound "ting" comes from the Konglish (Korean + English) word "mee-ting," which refers to a particular kind of group date that many young people in which many young people participate, especially during the early college years. In a "mee-ting," an equal number of boys and girls who don't know each get together and pair off with the hopes of some spark finding itself able to develop into something more. "Mee-tings" are hit-or-miss and young folks often go through rounds and rounds – pretty apparently the product of a culture in which people without some direct interpersonal tie (a relative, a friend's friend, or co-worker) are generally uncomfortable initiation conversations or any kind of personal relationship. The idea of the "ting" extended from when the "mee-ting" became popular after the late 1980's into other kinds of social liaisons: the "sogae-ting," which is a combination of the Korean word for "introduction" and the getting-together meaning of "ting" from the original Konglish "mee-ting." A "sogaeting" is what an American would call a "blind date." But there are more. From the mid-1990's, there was "phone-ting," which was a way of meeting over the phone through a variety of technical methods too complex-yet-mundane worth discussing here, along with even a "sex-ting," although the actual popularity of this kind of "ting" is debatable. In the final analysis, "ting" refers to a particular kind of social gathering.
3) The term "ggiri" in Korea roughly means "in a group" and its associated alliteration "ggiri-ggiri" strains my ability to translate, but I'd tentatively offer that it means something akin to "all together" and "as a group."
Combine them together in a creative way, and the words in the advertisement become interesting: "ggiri-ggiri ting restorang" is a layered bundle of meanings. Start with the fact that we all know that Outback Steakhouse is considered a "family restaurant" in Korea, but has replaced the "family" part with "ggiri-ggiri ting," which itself roughly comes out as "a place for your group (ggiri) to get together" and the ad's copy seems pretty smart.
Does all that armchair linguistics make sense?
So when you combine that message with the happy picture of the couple (adding the additional suggestion that the place is good for the good old-fashioned kind of couple-oriented ting, then juxtapose that against the obvious figure of loneliness that the young girl poses, we get a little bit of irony, both in the visual contrast between the smiling couple as symbol of fun and togetherness against the lone girl, as well as the conflict of textual messages the same girl constitutes when combined with the ad copy.
It's an overly-close reading of signs and symbols, but that is what advertisers specialize in; what they hadn't bargained for was the accidental and fleeting message offered in this particular instance. For all these reasons, the girl sitting in front of this ad on this particular bench offers a single chance to take a unique kind of picture. That is the beauty of street photography, which is the very definition of capturing random elements that together to define that perfect "decisive moment" in which to press the shutter button and make an artistic statement out of very mundane things.
That's why I am a street photographer, that's why this particular shot is a favorite of mine, and that's why it was prominently displayed in my exhibit.
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