Scribblings of the Metropolitician

Our First Photo Book!

As they say, if it ain't getting done right, do it yourself. And we took that to heart, in making the photo book about Korean lifestyle, the street, and fashion that I always wanted to make but couldn't get a Korean publisher to make. So we're within 2-3 weeks of having our own photo book hit the shelves. Here's the working design for our HUGE 35x26 cm, landscape-oriented photo book. I've teamed up with Denise, another photographer for Feetmanseoul.com, and she just happens to be a book designer by trade. Synergy, baby.

This is what happens when two motivated people put their heads, cameras, and skills together -- synergy, baby -- more and bigger and better than just the sum of two peeps. Then, when you ask other talented folks around you to pitch in their talent and time on things like styling and makeup, modeling, and logistical concerns, just a few people can do the work of many.

This is what I've been working on for the past few months, and it's about to pay off. Look for preview PDF's of the content, online pre-ordering, and a several kickoff events very, very soon.

Ya'll gonna buy our book, right?

On FeetManSeoul: "Holiday Skater"

The feet of an inline skater effortlessly glide between multi-colored cups in front of a Christmas Eve crowd gathered at the Cheonggyecheon stream. [go to FeetManSeoul.com]

On FeetManSeoul: The Bicycle Man

Check out the full post on FeetManSeoul.com!

FMS With You #6: Insadong Audio Tour!

The FMS With You audio podcast, brought to you by FeetManSeoul.com, brings the spirit of moving feet and the street to your audio player, where you can hear informational audio tours of the coolest spots in Seoul, "soundscapes" that will take you to even more faraway places, and other kinds of integrated multimedia, including edgy commentary and a spirit of just plain fun. Since the tours are all bilingual, in both Korean and English, it's just like having your own personal tour with a good Korean friend.

Subscribe through iTunes | Download directly

Join Gomushin Girl, Vivian, and the Metropolitician in a this audio tour of Insadong, the second in a series of audio tours that will cover Seoul!

The Colors of Night

Here's a quick crosspost from FeetManSeoul.com, where I continue to display what I shoot.

A couple on a scooter waits for the light to change in Shinchon.

Why the Korean Wave Will Ebb - Hallyru Part I

Why the Korean Wave Will Crash

by Michael Hurt

[Originally written December 9, 2005, but never completed, partially because I'm lazy – and have dozens of half-baked posts – and partially 'cause I was a bit chicken. Now, I wish I had just gone with my gut. But cut me some slack – that was a lot earlier in this blog's career...

I have to say thanks for Darcy Paquet for writing up something I read recently of his that reminded me of this stub of a post. I'm sure others saw the "wave" as potentially ebbing, but it's still interesting to look back through old posts and see exactly why, nearly two years after originally writing this, when it seems as though this is coming to pass.

There was also some interesting writing in an issue of the Korea Journal about the limits of the "wave," which talked about some specific aspects of things that also affected my thinking about the subject. To me, though, I started with the "wave" metaphor itself, and why the concept itself is unexpectedly appropriate.

For those who don't appreciate the "DVD commentary" version of my unfinished thoughts on this blog, I do apologize, but since I don't think it makes sense (or is fair) to try and finish this after-the-fact, I'm just putting it up as is, since this is old news now, and the only interesting aspect of this little essay is the fact that I wrote it in 2005. And wow – I was in an even more wordy mood back then!]

- the appropriateness of the wave metaphor...

In the end, all waves come to an end, as they crash hard against the breakers before the shore, wash up softly on the beach, or simply just losing their unique shape and distinctiveness as they lose energy and either merge into or are overcome by the myriad other waves all around. By definition, no wave goes on forever.

What would make for a more accurate metaphor would be a process, one in which the "Korean waves" are shown as temporary and transient aftereffects of some transmission of energy from a central point of origin. Perhaps this could be the "Korean earthquake" followed by the "Korean tsunami" or something equally awkward and unwieldy as a shorthand for talking about Korea's recent success in marketing the products of its newfangled "culture industry." Perhaps the term "Korean aftershocks" might work as well, since the reverberations that occur after an initial seismic event propagate in outwardly radiating waves that point at a distinct, central point of origin.

But that doesn't make for good copy, especially in overly optimistic news reports, the incessant and uncritical self-laudatory tone of all the pundits who talk about Korea's newfound "power," and the underlying-yet-obvious nationalism that underlies it all. "Korean wave" sounds good, works well on paper, and has a nice ring of cultural power. I must admit that this "ring" doesn't sit well with me, because I am, as a scholar of a frank and honest look at Korean history, quite distrustful of "nationalism," used as it has been by the state to put down political opposition and gloss over structural inequalities and injustices in Korean society. Now, I'm not saying that nationalism is always a bad thing – although in the final analysis and in most cases, it usually is – but I am saying that its primary purpose is to blind. But more than some academic critique of the theory, application, and excesses of nationalism, I am simply pointing here to the fact that it's not good to get caught up too much in one's own vanity. There's an old saying in public relations and Hollywood – "don't believe your own press" – that would behoove Korean journalists, pundits, and the general public to know.

It goes like this. When you're a star – an undeniably desirable, deliciously XXXable star – you bask in a extension past the "fifteen minutes of fame" that even the everyday person is entitled to enjoy once in their lives. No one denies that you stand out from the crowd, above the fray, are king or queen of the world. Your public relations team says glowing things about you in press releases, the press corps uncritically and gleefully recycles your public-relations-produced pap, and the star hopes that this lovefest continues as long as possible. But the star is warned against one thing – believing in the veracity of one's own press releases and in the new, artificially-produced self-image – and forgets the reality of the self that originally went into making the "you" in the first place. In many ways, Korea is the hometown boy from Iowa who, against all odds and expectations, move out and made it big in the "big city." Its "fifteen minutes of fame" has moved past being one of the "tiger economies" of Asia and transformed itself into a new kind of pride and identity, that of being a kind of pop culture producer, the Hollywood of Asia, ground-zero for a new "wave" of Korea's claim to cultural viability and even superiority.

But the Korean consciousness, as shot through as it was during the 1980's and 1990's with the hubris of real newfound wealth and the cultural sensibilities of the nouveau riche, and even after said hubris was humbled by the Nemesis of economic crash and national humiliation – that same old feeling is back, but in slightly altered form.

How much of a stroke must it be to the Korean ego for its cultural products to be consumed by two cultures that have, at different times and in relation to different historical circumstances, once asserted their superiority over Korea? Looking at how much China is looked down upon by many Koreans, and how much Japan has become a one-dimensional, nearly phantasmagorical object of hatred for many folks on the peninsula, the feeling of watching Chinese and Japanese tourist – mostly women...

Korean Photo Paranoia, 초상권, and Legal Inexactitude

Cases like this are pissing me off.

Korean cops seem to know the law the least in this society, and leaving vague laws open to the whim and interpretative powers of guys who I wouldn't trust to return a wallet with the money in it still intact (I have found three purses in taxis and on the street and returned them all with cash intact, after I had the police contact the owner's credit card company and arrange to have it picked up in person, after I verbally confirmed the amount of cash I had found in the wallet – they hated that part, which is why I don't trust them as far as I can throw them, and boy, would I like to) does not seem like a good idea.

So here's what I have known since first started taking pictures here – see, I do my homework – and what paranoid citizens, journalists, and even the cops seem to be unable to understand: taking a picture in itself, barring mitigating circumstances, is not a crime. And I've know the law since my ass deplaned here in late 2002.

Here's the relevant text, taken from a book for photojournalists called 한국신문사진인론, or, roughly translated, "Korean Photojournalism Theory." It deals with the tricky question of "초상권/choseungkweon" or "the right to one's (facial) image," which is a concept about which the average Korean citizen holds an inflated, paranoid, and nearly erroneous misconception. From the book, here's the relevant section that talks about the subject as it relates to Korea:

헌법 제10조: "인간으로서의 존엄과 가치를 가지고 행복을 추구할 권리"

헌법 제16조: 모든 국민은 사행활의 침법과 자유를 침해받지 않는다.

형법 제32조 제4항:촉탁에 의한 초상화 또는 이와 유사한 사진 저작물의 경우에는 촉탁자의 동의가 없을 때에는 이를 전시하거나 복제할 수 없다(그러나 형벌 규정을 두지 않음으로써 민법 제750조에 의해 손해배상만 청구할 수 있다.)

현재 한국의 법률상 초상권과 관련돈 판례는 거의 없으며 학문적으로도 관심 밖에 있다. 다만 민법 제750조에 의해 손해배상만 청구할 수 있다고만 결정되었을 뿐, 초상권에 관해 정확한 판례가 없고 다만 외국의 판례를 적용하는 경우가 있으나 그것은 극소수에 불가해 초상권에 대한 법률 제정이 시급하다.

So what I see here are some basic things, and you legal eagles out there, please tell me if any of this is wrong, and/or add to the conversation.

1) According to the 10th and 16th articles of the Korean Constitution, which defines a "right to happiness" and "right to privacy," respectively, as this is expressed in concrete terms in article 32, clause 4 of criminal law, a person entrusted with a picture of someone can't use or reproduce it without one's wishes or according to commercial whims, but "because there are no stipulations for punishments, one can only seek compensatory damages according to clause 750 of civil law," for which you have to show clear and concrete damages to one's person or reputation. That means, you gotta have lost a job, gotten a divorce, or something else o which you can put a dollar (or won) sign.

2) According to the book, since there are almost no actual precedents for seeking damages to "chosangkweon" alone – most of the cases shown in the book that set significant legal precedents were all cases in which individuals' images were used without their permission for commercial purposes – it is "little more than an academic issue."

Well, since the advent of the Internet, "dog poop girl," and the woman in Hongdae who posed in a picture with two white boys and was essentially cyberstalked and threatened, Koreans are worried about their faces in pictures more than ever before.

The funny thing is, pretty much any case that most people chalk up to violations of one's "right to their image" are actually clear violations of their "right to happiness" and/or their "right to privacy." In the case of the woman whose image of her and her poopy pooch were passed all over the Net – along with her home address, telephone number, school, and major – her rights were clearly violated. The same is true of the woman who dared appear in a photograph with foreign vermin.

So, short of using a camera to sexually harass or threaten someone – clearly not really "photographic crimes" anyway, but just harrassment with a camera as the tool of choice – that man with the cellphone in this recent case committed no crime. She had obviously accused her of sexually harassing her with the camera, and after clearing him of that, didn't press charges.

But one thing disturbs me – the only person in this case who committed a crime was the lady in question, when she took his camera phone from the man. I myself have visited a police station to check the above laws and specifically asked, "Does anyone have the right to force you to erase a picture?" Of course not – that is your personal property, until proven otherwise.

"Does anyone have the right to take my camera from me?" The cops replied with a hearty negative, since that would be "강도" robbery and constitutes a crime. The same is true in the US, where a cop does NOT have the right to search you without probable cause, and absolutely cannot take your film nor equipment.

According to common sense, as well as the cops I asked, the same is true here. One case I read about in the US had a mall security guard take a photographer's camera away from him (he doesn't have that right, since he wasn't a cop and wasn't preventing a crime). When the police arrived, the photographer turned out to have the right to be on those private premises (there was a newsworthy event that made the venue temporarily a legal place to shoot freely despite the fact that malls are technically private spaces and can ask you to put your camera away, lest you be accused of trespassing) and the security guard was arrested for theft. Hehe. I love it.

In any case, taking another person's personal property is, cut and dried, illegal. The only person who should be arrested in the end is the woman on the bus. No one has the right to touch me or my property, even according to Korean law. That's the only crime that was clearly committed here.

The other thing that makes me uncomfortable is the fact that the determination of whether or not this was a crime was left up to the keystone kop going through to see what parts of the body he photographed. Whether or not that woman was being sexually harassed should have been determined by his behavior and witnesses present at the time. That is quite a separate issue from the content of the pictures.

Basically, if he wasn't using his phone – or a book, or a laser pointer, or his penis – to harass her in a clearly inappropriate or sexual way (and they determined anyway, that he hadn't been), then no crime has been committed. And the woman should have been arrested for theft. If someone touches my camera, or actually takes it, they're going to feel every bit of legal action I can through their way.

What the problem is that stupid decisions such as this are adding fuel to the paranoia.

For example, I attended the opening program of a film festival – ResFest, actually – and there was a hip-hop group performing there and a couple cameras rolling on them from which I wanted to snag some footage. So I followed the camerawoman upstairs and found an organizer who was talking to a woman who had come up right before me. This was a woman in the audience who was visibly shaking with rage and bright red with anger that cameras were rolling and taking pictures "without the audience's permission." She said she wanted to check the camera and personally see any images of her erased – this, all while the event was still going on.

Personally, I would have told her that she had come to a private venue voluntarily, and at MOST, I would tell her to leave a picture of herself – ha ha – to make sure she didn't get emphasized in the editing. But I would never let nobody force me to erase tape, and I can't believe that these organizers were indulging her paranoid behavior.

If I had put on an event in a private venue, for which there would be a very reasonable expectation that cameras would be rolling to record it, I would have tell her to go fuck herself and have a nice day. Not only was she being commonsensically unreasonable, no crime had been committed against her, although she believed one had been.

In short – crimes involving the "right to the face" don't become crimes until they are published and cause someone specific damages. That's the law. If it's sexual harassment, that is literally a different story. But now, most citizens are going to even more erroneously think that actually taking a picture constitutes a crime.

It does not, even in cases that might be arguably called "sexual harassment." If I stalk someone, invade their personal space, say "shake it for me, baby" or whip out Mr. Happy while taking my shot, the actual picture's not the problem, is it? And since they cleared him of sexual harrassment charges anyway, why are cops warning people to be "careful" with their cameras when 1) the camera's not the problem, and 2) in fact the ajumma in question is the only person who clearly committed a crime?

Even if everyday citizens can't figure this out, the cops should better.

Advice for photographers? Do what I plan to do. I plan to copy the relevant pages in that book. keep a few copies wrapped around my name card with contact information, and if some crazy person wants to make a legal issue out of it even after I explain to them that 1) since s/he clearly has protested against their image being used, I would never use it, anyway 2) you have my contact information and venue of publication to use in a suit against me even if I inexplicably – I would quote them my hourly rate and inform them that I would also seek damages for wasting the hours I would spend going down to a police station.

After giving the person the relevant laws in Korean, your contact information, as well as your promise that you're not going to use their stupid picture anyway, there shouldn't be any trip to the police station.

I recently took a picture of a woman looking quite princessy and interesting walking in front of a neon sign background. Little did I notice that her boyfriend had noticed me take the shot. As I was having a conversation with a friend while waiting for the movie – we were in a CGV – he came up all threatening and asked me if I took a picture. I said I did, because I don't lie, and when he told me to erase it, I told him that I don't erase pictures. He then said – and this is rich – that he was a cop: "난 경찰입니다." At that point, I turned in his direction – because I had been, to this point, been snidely not really looking in his direction because I was pissed he was trying to roll up all hard instead of act like a normal human being, on top of him now talking stupid – and told him that if he were a cop, he should arrest me, and if he were a real cop, he'd know that I hadn't committed any crime (yet), and he didn't have to right to make me hand over shit, even if he did have identification, which he hadn't produced. So right when I was about to go tell him what to go do with himself, my female companion tried to calm the situation down by saying that I wasn't going to put it on the Internet (99.9% of my pictures never get used, and that had been a throwaway shot, anyway) and that I was a real photographer and not going to put it on some weird site – as if a fully-clothed woman in a public place is real titillating stuff, anyway.

Since even his girlfriend seemed to not even care about the pic and had been trying to prevent him from stomping over in my direction in the first place, I was even more irritated, since this was more about his testosterone and not liking me than about any naughty picture. And he probably didn't like the fact that he was being made to look more stupid when I called his ill-conceived bluff (I don't know this aspect of the Korean law, but in most countries, it's a crime to impersonate a police officer). What I should have done was actually call the police and tell them I had been arrested by a man who was claiming he was a police officer and hadn't produced identification – oh, what should I do? But I actually wanted to see the movie I had bought tickets to see, and didn't particularly relish the idea of talking with the idiotic fuzz here for hours under flourescent lights. I just wanted to see the Devil wear her Prada, dammit!

If that guy had been smart, he would have called over a store security guard, who would have likely just removed me from the building, which he would be well within his rights to do – a CGV or a mall is a private place and they have the right to remove whomever they want. I woulda been pissed, but powerless to resist.

Which is the opposite case of when I went to a Carrefour and was freely taking pictures of the staff in clown outfits playing with kids and well-dressed ajummas consuming, consuming, consuming. Fun stuff, and half my pictures were of staff who knew I was taking their pictures. Well, I made the mistake of wandering over to the makeup section and snapping a shot of a particularly interesting stand, which brought down the hammer of literally 6 or 7 large security dudes and two managers.

He said that I wasn't allowed to take pictures in the store. I said, cool, I understand, I'll be on my way now. When caught in a private establishment, they usually warn before ejecting. So if caught, I just stop taking pictures and comply – I'm not taking pictures of anything important enough to get booted for, especially since I'm usually with other people and not there to take pics in the first place.

Well, these guys seemed to know enough of the law to not actually try to take my camera or make me give them my film (this was before I went digital). They're worried about corporate sabotage, not anybody's face. I told them that I understood, I would take no more pictures, and that if we were all done, I had to get going. Well, Asshole Manager #1, who didn't seem to fully understand the law – although I was flying by assumption that Korean criminal law would resemble American law, which is actually a pretty good assumption in most cases – wanted to know where I was from. I said that I was from the United States, I was a researcher and photographer, and that's all your ass needs to know.

He wanted to know where I was from, (meaning "are you working for another company?") he repeated in an insistent tone. Since I caught his gist, I simply said that I was a private photographer and that I wasn't working for nobody. But he kept insisting I tell him something more, at which point I asked very loudly, "Are you a police officer? Are you arresting me?"

TIP: When in a situation and a crowd is gathering in a department store, that's a couple of questions that will bring the situation to an interesting head.

When he said that no one was a cop, and that he wasn't detaining me, I promptly said that I would be leaving then, at which point the overzealous guards made a circle around me and one made a move like he was going to grab me. I was pissed.

"Then why are you preventing me from leaving!?!?!" I yelled very loudly, at which point the manager saw the situation was spinning out into embarrassing zone. He said no one was preventing me from leaving – umm, they were, in fact, doing just that – and wanted to know "where I was from."

I told him that if I committed no crime, and I wasn't being arrested, then he had no legal right to prevent me from leaving, and that *I* would like him to call the police, because now their store was committing a crime. I had answered his question satisfatorily, asked if I had committed any crime, and asked if I was being detained – and had received the answer that I hadn't and wasn't – so I wanted to know why 7 thug rejects who looked like they wanted a piece of me were standing between me and the door.

In the end, my horrified Korean companions came down and explained that I was just a private photographer and wasn't working for any companies or agencies – umm, hadn't I just told him that? – and she defused the situation by being real sweet and flowery with her voice and assuring him I was just an ignorant foreigner who didn't understand the situation.

Well, in fact, I was a stubborn, son-of-a-bitch foreigner who fully understood the situation and the fact that he had no right to do anything to me but kick me out of the store, and my exit was something I was actually trying to expedite. Yet he wanted to get all Dragnet with me, despite the fact that he couldn't arrest me, beat me, or otherwise coerce me to do anything other than tell him to go screw himself.

Grrr.

Yeah, I know, I know. It sounds aggressive and paranoid; but trust me – if you want to be a photographer in Korea, you have to be aggressive and paranoid, since everybody else is. The one time I was very nearly physically assaulted – I shit you not, as this drunk guy who was standing next to me when I was taking a picture of someone totally in the other direction from him, but he heard a shutter *CLICK* and saw me being a foreign man, which is sometimes a no-no in Shinchon (did I ever tell the story of the completely innocent Fulbright kid who was beaten over the head with a folding chair and had to receive a large number of stiches, and he never even saw his attackers?) and after he and his friend cursed my existence for a minute while I walked around the corner, he came at me at a full run with fist cocked back, at which point I had actually gotten into a low crouch and cocked back my camera to use as a weapon in self-defense before his friend literally jumped atop him from behind and brought him to the ground – I hadn't even been taking the guy's picture.

Basically, if you're a photographer in Korea, you're going to run into the paranoids and bozos who think you go to jail if you push the shutter button, or that taking a picture gives them the right to assault you. And rulings like this just add flame to the fire.

And it's a numbers game – you're gonna have a run-in someday, if you're burning through film or memory cards here. I dare say that you're not a real photographer unless you've faced the wrath of some paranoid person who thinks that you taking their picture automatically means that you have violated their rights, or that you have to pay a "model fee" to them (this actually happens, I swear).

I'm usually polite, but prepared. But if someone wants to get igg'nant, you're advised to have your laws in your pocket, quick verbal and physical reflexes, a thick skin, and a plan as to which side of your camera grip is best used as a clubbing weapon in a pinch.

I may be oversensitive as a photographer, but who wouldn't be in a country this paranoid about photography, but with such vague and misunderstood laws surrounding it?

In the end, the only thing that suffers here is freedom of artistic expression, the will to document, and good journalism, while the idiots who really abuse the rights of their fellow citizens continue to sully the craft in our name.

People ask me all the time – "Isn't what you do illegal? Did you ask for permission?" I ask, did Cartier-Bresson ask for permission? Did Winogrand? Did any great photographer who worked the streets? I'm not saying I'm them, but I am saying that in an atmosphere like this, it's not wonder the only good Korean photo-documentarians since the great Kim Ki Chan passed a couple years ago are all dead.

Depressing, but true. Which explains why most of the Korean contemporary photographers these days are either nervous journalists who pose their shots anyway, or self-obssessed, self-described "art photographers" who shoot flower bulbs or black-and-white pictures of thatched-roof huts in the countryside surrounded by clichéd dead trees.

No wonder street photography doesn't exist in Korea as a genre – who could put up with the grief?

If even the police and journalists are too stupid to be able to tease photography apart from real criminal activity, how can we expect everyday Korean citizens to?

And that's the triple truth, Ruth.

Racism Roundup and the Politics of Apologetics

Japan Probe's got the skinny on some interesting videos of the offensive kind on Japanese TV. Here's the main vid, though for a better breakdown, you should go to to their site.

And back home – Rosie?

Damn, dude. I get the point of what you're trying to say, and it wasn't exactly Mickey Rooney in Breakfast at Tiffany's – that character ruins what is otherwise a timeless classic, since the politics of race at the time was so specific and vulgar – but still.

Damn, Rosie. You done fucked up. People's got a right to be mad.

I mean, after Michael Richards, you should have been more careful. Does Rosie strike me as racist? Given her overall record of what she stands for and what she actually does with her power and money, no. Is that schtick offensive? Hell, yes. Contradiction? I don't think so.

I had the same thing happen to me when a good friend of mine from back home had me over for dinner with a family I'd know since I was a kid. His mom's asked me how New Year's is celebrated in Korea, and she cheerily followed up with the question, "Do they sing like this – ching chong, ching chong...?"

I wasn't nearly as mortified as the rest of the family, who were also all white and whom I knew well. Dead silence, New Year's dinner in danger, awwwwkward – I could feel all the younger peeps at the table sending me mental messages of "Dude, I'm soooo sorry" – I could feel it. And I loved this woman, whose family had hosted and supported and especially – fed – me since before I had pimples. I knew and loved this family, I knew what they stood for, I knew my friend.

She got the message right there and then, and I'm sure someone read her the riot act after all was said and done. I know my back's covered with them, from my knowledge of them.

I think the same about Rosie. She's got a track record and her heart (and wallet) seems to be in the right place. But she is still a public figure, and she should have been more careful post-Michael Richards, on top of the fact that it wasn't an inpromptu outburst that got recorded on someone's camera phone, since the show was recorded and they mixed in that "gong" sound for when it went out.

That's the most disappointing thing.

You were trying to illustrate how the "foreign Asian language" sounds to you, then when you hear the only word you know – "Danny Devito" and "drunk" – you realize what is being talked about. Still – the history of the "ching chong" thing is sensitive, and you should know that it has always been used to mock and degrade Asian people in the US. Similar sounds are made in Japanese and Korean to put down Chinese people specifically, where there have also been anti-Chinese movements and sentiments related to those countries geo-political relationship with China (although the motivations were somewhat different, as part of an effort to break China's traditional intellectual and suzerain dominance and re-center the home nation). And I don't think Rosie had in her mind any geo-political relationships, the phantom specter of Chinese coolies, or fears from Japanese imports. I think she was trying to illustrate a point along the lines of "dig a hole all the way to China" and it came out in a really offensive way.

Anyway – I buy her apology. Does she "get it?" Well, maybe not on a level that highly-educated Asian American activists (a group of which I consider myself a member) might like, but she tells it straight, she dishes our accents and funny jabs at all comers, and she at least convinced me that a) she really didn't know, and b) that she actually cares a little bit about finding out. Whether or not I agree with the two Asian fangirls sitting in the audience the day of her apology about whether it was "funny", I do think that this is a case of comedy that pushed the wrong buttons and stepped over a line that Rosie didn't quite know about.

She replayed the clip in question, apologized, albeit in the context of comedy, which is what comedian do.

It's not Michael Richards yelling at the top of his lungs, talking about "this is what happens when you interrupt the white man" and "50 years ago we'd have upside down with a fucking fork stuck up your ass" and continuing to ridicule black members of the audience who were leaving and clearly expressing their disgust.

See, there was no "joke" as context. Richards' was just a racist rant. I agree with Paul Mooney (see this post and I apologize for reposting the video, but you can just scroll past it, you know) when he says that the biggest thing is the context – Richards, crucially, wasn't "joking."

And then he apologizes through clenched teeth (again, sorry for the repost of vid below, but you can skip or go to the original post).

In the end, the reason people reacted to Richards the way they did is because a) used threw a cultural H-bomb with the "N-word", which I like to just say "nigger", because I don't like euphemism nor obfuscation, b) he went far above the call of the word "nigger" itself and was talking about white male power, lynching, and his right to dominate other, and c) he wasn't being a comedian at that point.

And I think the nervous laughing you see in the video isn't people thinking he was funny – it was the last, hopeful titters of people who were praying that this was part of some act, that at some point they would be left off the hook. When one woman say "Oh, my God," that's about the point when people were realizing that indeed, he wasn't kidding.

Not that intent is everything – otherwise I wouldn't be asking people to sign the petition against racist imagery and buffoonery on Korean TV – but whether or not you knew better (which I think both Richards or KBS did) or apologized afterwards (which O'Donnell and even Richards did), is the point.

And context is crucial. Given what I know about my friend's parents, relatives, and friends, I can forgive a verbal overstep easily, because racist domination or stereotyped animosity is not what they're about. I have a context against which to compare the act, which in itself isn't egregious and goes against the grain of what that context tells me.

But in the Korean case, the context of stereotypical and racist representations – many of which result in the vast number of non-reported incidents of mental and physical violence against foreigners as the diect result of misinformation and misreporting on the part of the Korean media over real incidents, such as the middle school girls' deaths or the Shinchon stabbing incident, as well as the ongoing pattern of racist representations I've seen in Korean entertainment of all types of foreigners, from some biracial black/Korean singer named something like "Mambuggi" or some such back in the 90's, or pretty much any ad with a black person as a savage (which is pretty much any ad with a black person), the Bubble Sisters' blackface bullshit, and up to now – the context of Koreans' views of other races is positively arrogant, condescending, stereotypical, and absolutely used to justify action or treatment in the real world.

Rosie mentioned that she didn't know that Asian kids on the playground were teased with just those words. She expressed that she didn't know about the historical context. I'll take her at her word.

But we all know the context here, and the "we have never had a history of interaction with foreigners" line is old – as old as many of the mostly black and brown foreign laborers who've been working in Korea for quite a long time, some of them for more than 15-20 years.

They are here, but such images continue to otherize and psychologically exclude them, which is why elementary school principals don't admit brown kids to their schools ("it'd be too hard on the kids"), hagwons don't like to hire black people ("it's not us, it's the moms"), or why foreign guys are sometimes assaulted without any provocation ("that asshole is taking our innocent women").

That's all racism. That's how it works.

Ideology masks the working of structure and keep the smart foreigners who speak Korean out of the public eye except as dancing, singing clowns or as the expected English teachers. Is it really any surprise then, that Koreans always seem consistently surprised that I speak Korean and I don't do any of those things?

It's not that Korean innocently "hasn't come into contact with foreigners and don't know what to do" but rather that such images and stereotypes dehumanize and objectify foreigners in a way that keeps them at arms' length, that keeps them foreign.

Hello?! Koreans interact with and see foreigners every day, everywhere they go – in the now. Today. In schools, hagwons, on the streets, in the subways, on the bus, in the sauna, etc. Every day, everywhere you go.

Ideology is what drives the wedge between us, is what makes a pattern that no individual Korean sees, but what I know as reality. Here's one:

On any form of public transportation, Korean girls never sit next to me. Ever. Even if there's a clearly open seat and she's the only one standing in the car, she prefers to stand. Beyond how that makes me feel – I'm sooo over that, trust me, I've been living here for 7 years so I'm not shedding tears here – I bring this up to ask the questions: What is she afraid of? Where did she get the ideas that are obviously going through her head? Yes, there are other things going on there as well, especially as they related to gender and propriety in general, but the fact remains – only ajumma and men sit next to me.

I've heard, especially in the countryside, women pass me by and whisper, "Scary."

I've been on dates with women who say, while sitting there eating dinner, "I'm not fast like American women. You have to understand that cultural difference." What? Was I gonna jump her after the appetizer?

When I press her on what she's talking about, one woman answers, "Well, I see how people act on Friends, Sex and the City, and I've seen My Best Friend's Wedding." Grrr. You'd be surprised at how common such statements are.

Before you laugh away what you see as trivialities, remember that these are the easy, superficial stereotypes – not the ones that cause irritation and anger when none should be present. That's why I tell my friends to not mention my race when they refer me for a job – I just tell them to let me handle it.

Yeah, a lot of it started with the American media. But my point is that it didn't end there, and Korean televisions stations and producer do know better. They simply do.

These people are not average viewers. They assiduously keep up with the media produced in their field. A Korean friend who works in a major media company told me of TV producer friends who travel to Japan for a week and hole up in the hotel and just watch and make notes on the shows there the entire time. They just check in, order in, and take in. They study. They prepare.

(And they've made it into the "Blackface Database." Cool! Dae~han minguk!")

Like the Bubble Sisters. In order to even reproduce the pickininnies and jigaboos they nearly perfectly replicated, with the hairstyles, makeup, and even the infantialized image of them in baby pajamas, they had to do the research. Those PD's went online, they found all the pictures – shit, I probably know the pictures they likely looked at – but they ignored the context. They actively ignored it.

Pickininnies.

You cannot go online and find pictures of blackface and miss the fact that this was a racist representation from America's racist past and that it is universally condemned as an embarrassing cultural curio that even Bugs Bunny and Warner Bros. doesn't want released in its archival sets of cartoons. You can't miss that shit. But you can ignore it when you want to make a buck.

Al Jolson, 1927.

Lew Dockstader, 1902.

And producers on that show could not have missed having heard about the Bubble Sisters' debacle, even if the general Korean viewer doesn't have a clue. That's because they know. They can't not know and still know what the hell's going on in their industry.

The point is that we need to hold these Korean producers and stations up to a higher degree of scrutiny because they know and need to be held accountable for their actions. Note that KBS didn't even try the "we didn't know approach" but the "oh, come on, it's funny" one.

And remember – so far, they're not even sorry. Rosie and even Richards are technically "sorry."

Which is why, from an outsider's point of view, Korea and Japan are the same when it comes to treatment of and representation of foreigners. But at least Japan has an excuse – they were an imperialist power and that particular ideology and its remaining strands didn't/doesn't apologize for it. Both countries are facing a change in national identity, especially in relation to low birth rates, an undeniable need for foreign labor, and actually relatively high rates of international/interracial marriage.

And the recent reactions are taking shape not along the lines of "we didn't know" but rather "we don't like foreigners."

It seems that now, on another level besides that of seeming addiction to the sex industry, extreme ethnic nationalism, and question of war crimes (Vietnam for South Korea, Korea for Japan), Japan was a far more effective colonial master than Koreans would like to believe.

Here's another one where a lot of foreigners tend to go, Shinchon. My friend took me to visit there, where he is well-known for his "No foreigners" policy – when I asked him in Korean if the sign was really true, he was rude and dismissive, and told me to "Mind my manners." I snapped his picture and told him to stop being a racist. Nyah!

All this, over some darts. Well, it'd be silly of me to start a petition to "Demand an Apology from the Dart Game Guy Who Illegally Runs a Business Without a Permit in front of the Hyeon Woo Pharmacy behind the Lotte Department Store Parking Lot", so I'll just leave it to you to directly take up any request for grievances. I'm sure he'd love the additional attention.

I'm sure the Korean people would like to know how much even a single such "cultural ambassador" can do for foreigners' impressions of Korea, especially in such a public area? Hmm. Millions of dollars spend on empty world cup slogans, "smile campaigns", and propagandistic commercials...or...a smart slap in the face when you want to do something as harmless as play some darts? All that good will and investment gets canceled in an instant when you feel stupid xenophobia or discrimination hit you in the face.

And people wonder why many foreigners leave with not so good an impression of Korea. Whether you have a perceived or actual slight – you hate the US military or a foreign dude gave you a dirty look – it doesn't give you carte blanche to hate entire people's and discriminate against them. It's really just an excuse that enables a pre-existing disposition – let's get real. Are all Japanese right now responsible for the Pacific War? Are all Korean people responsible for the actions of their president? How would Koreans feel if Vietnamese started calling in grudges? Korean tourists getting attacked on the streets for the sins of their fathers. I'm sure somebody would walk around pointing out – rightly – that this is a bit unfair.

Even the legitimate gripes can't turn into mere excuses to be ignorant, violent, or just plain nasty. That's just being fucked up, except with an excuse.

Anyway, I know there are a lot of people who ain't like this guy in Shinchon, or the owner of Zeno's in the CIty Hall subway stop (who incidentally, I noticed, allowed 60 Minutes to conduct an interview in there while they did a story ON anti-Americanism, which seems pretty hypocritical to me, dog) but you get enough little slaps in the face like this, and it does wonders for your country's image – especially in an area so heavily traveled by young foreign exchange students and other people in general.

Somehow, I don't expect an apology from the dart guy, the owner of Zeno's, or of the sauna (?) motel (?) in the Yonhap picture above. They seem to know exactly what they're saying, the context they're saying it in, and whom they don't like.

Is that just "ignorance?" Or is it something else?

KBS better get with and apologize, or join the ranks of Korean racists who just don't care what foreigners think, or what we feel.

Is that how it's gonna be?

Apologize already.

Don't make me walk down there.

Minor Setback

The saga was nearly complete.

But that's only part of the story, actually. I got an email yesterday from the publisher, who decided to cancel the photo book project. They cited two main reasons for their decision: 1) our inability to agree on the tone of the content, and 2) its extreme lateness. For me, Reason #1 was directly responsible for Reason #2, as the more parts of the manuscript I handed in, the further away I was told from the "original" mood of the book's concept.

For those of you who've been around over the past several months, you've seen me handing in chapters-by-chapter and know my work. The first round of chapters – the first two mammoth ones – were 1) too photography-oriented and 2) too academic for the publisher. They didn't like the parts where I talked about Korean photography back in the old days, nor did they like my talking about subjects that were too "dark", which I guess Korea was more of back then. I don't know – I thought it was kinda interesting.

Also, my initial tone was too academic, a criticism with which I wholeheartedly agreed, but when I brought down the qualifying and explaining a notch and revved up the describing and informality a bit, they said it sounded too much "like a magazine." Hmm.

I thought the original kicker and gimmick of the whole thing was describing the nitty-gritty streets of Seoul, but in a flavorful way, depicting their attraction and charm. For me, one of the biggest attractions has to do with the "dark side" that comes to life when day turns to dusk. It may be a little embarrassing to talk about sex, booze, and playing bad past bedtime – but that's an essential part of the draw, right? But they wanted to not only cut that down, but also told me to reduce the "presence of my voice." Huh?

I thought they had wanted to see Seoul from the eyes of a foreigner photographer, with one foot on the inside through my years of experience in this culture, but also as an inevitable outsider. I think that's part of the story – they did – but it came up against what my book manager described to me as "the bad mood" that many Koreans find themselves in lately, having to do with the economy, trade relations, trouble with North Korea, etc.

In the end, their goal "is to sell books" and not print stuff that will add to the already heavy funk in the air, a point that I completely understand. My book manager basically said that I needed to "write something that Koreans will want to buy." I can understand her point of view, but it was making chapter 3 – the final chapter that was supposed to be the "insider, playful" chapter – difficult to write.

So I had asked her – give me three adjectives that describe what you want to see, and three that describe what you don't – and my book manager came up with these:

3 things to stick to:
- original perspective
- impressive
- interesting

3 things to avoid:
- irritating
- accusing
- dark

Last Suggestion:
- "lower your voice"

As I sat down to finish that out, I realized that with my style of photography, trying to say something new and impressive, as a photographer with an outsider's eye, without sounding purposely pandering – is hard to do without being accused of violating the rules of what not to do, which was to be "irritating, accusing, or dark."

What we had was a problem of definitions, since much of the stuff I just considered pretty neutral or matter-of-fact was seen as embarrassing or inappropriate, I think, to be 1) taken by a foreign photographer, and 2) be published in a book that looked more and more like they wanted it to be happier, lighter reading than I had ever thought.

So it became next-to-impossible to write anything good, something that got my heart pumping and my fingers dancing across the keyboard.

One reason was because pictures such as this, one of my strongest images in that it shows the red-light district in action, captures the real feel of Seoul at night, yet is too grainy to get that heavily made-up girl identified and in trouble, end up going into the figurative trashcan.

As they say, "You just can't fake the funk." So it went, so went my final deadline, and so remained my content something they didn't really want to take a risk on.

Anyway, I'm actually shooting much more these days and entering my 5th year of shooting in Korea. I've got more than enough text for a photo book, as well as other options. I see this as a good thing, because I really wasn't too sure if I was comfortable with what I was going to end up having to put my name on as my first work.

So it went with Seoul Magazine deciding to stop running my pictures a couple years ago. So it went with me stopping shooting for the Seoul Selection newsletter. So it goes with my photo book. I think that someday it will be an apparent "fit" with what Korea wants to see about itself, but for now, I think that my photography – and moreover, the content of the writing I do – is not something that a lot of Koreans want to hear about or see. And hey, it's understandable, even if disappointing.

When immigrant photographer Robert Frank exhibited and published The Americans in the conformist and paranoid 1950's, he was, in many people's eyes, the biggest asshole around. Why was he taking pictures of black mammies taking care of white babies or gay latinos in the barrio? In the mind of many people at the time who were trying their damndest to believe that Father Knows Best and Leave It to Beaver reflected anyone but a few people's reality, these pictures were definitely not a "true" picture of America.

When Martin Parr took – either on purpose or through others' interpretations – a skewer to the British middle class and the mundaneness of bourgeois consumption, it didn't make a lot of people happy, either.

I'm not saying that I'm either of these guys, nor is my work up to par with Parr's (sorry – I had to do that). But I do know that after nearly 5 years of shooting here, I've got some strong work already done, even as I am starting to feel revved up and charged to do even more interesting stuff.

So I think I'll be alright.

I've got plans, connections, and schemes, and am confident that things will work out in the end. As "Jackson" so profoundly put it in his scene from Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle: "The universe tends to unfold as it should."

And I think it is.

"Qapla!"

Dream, the Impossible Dream!

Since jumping ship from the foreign language high school, having sucked dry (or been sucked?) the teat of good fortune and income that it was, and really wanting to work on things that are important to me – my dissertation and photography – I am trying to become truly independent.

This doesn't mean "independently wealthy" – it just means no boss and more time to dedicate to my personal projects.

So you might have noticed a new menu item to the right – "Buy Prints!!!" – that speaks for itself. In short, I want to really get out there and do more good photo work, finish that photo book, and work on publishing a 2nd one that's been in the hopper since as long as the first one.

I also want to do more photo essays – especially on social issues in Korea, which is also the name of the class I teach during the summers at Waedae – like the ones I did for the Korea Herald (click here and here). These take a lot of time and planning, and I'd like to do more of them and self-publish. I'll write the occasional long article, but I'd rather spend the time shooting and showing pictures than writing dense prose.

Since I'm working hard trying to document a more "real" Korea than you see in the tourist textbooks and sites, the stuff is out there. I can make a print of any picture I have published on this site, sign and number it, then frame it for you to pick up at my Gongdeok-dong (near Mapo) studio.

I've given an exhibition and am really finishing up that photo book; I've published all kinds of pictures through Seoul Selection's newsletter and Seoul Magazine, as well as did both the cover of an issue of Lufthansa's in-flight magazine, with accompanying photo essay. I work hard to document Seoul, in not just the visual medium, but in the audio and written realms as well.

And I'd like to dedicate myself to that.

So get spectacular prints and help me keep doing better work, and more of it.