[INTERVIEW] Black-and-white photos offer glimpse into layered cultural identity of Koryoin

"Visiting Ancestral Graves on Hansik" (1993), taken by Uzbek Koryoin photographer Victor An, in Tashkent, Uzbekistan, is one of 60 images on view at the National Folk Museum of Korea that traces the historical and cultural paths of the Koryoin, or ethnic Koreans from post-Soviet states. Courtesy of National Folk Museum of Korea

Exhibition shows diaspora through the eyes of ethnic Korean Uzbek photographer

By Park Han-sol

A black-and-white snapshot captures one family's springtime visit to an ancestral gravesite in 1993 ― a familiar scene in Korea during major traditional holidays, with dishes of fruit, meat and a bottle of liquor laid out neatly for the spirit of the deceased. But something seems different here, namely the shape of the grave, as well as the language of the epitaph.

Bearing no resemblance to the grassy burial mounds typically nestled on Korean hillsides, the fully fenced stone grave inscribed with Cyrillic letters belongs to a "Koryoin" family in Tashkent, Uzbekistan. Yet, their performance of the Korean ancestral ritual is what bridges ― albeit momentarily ― the two cultures over 5,000 kilometers apart.

"Koryoin," or "Koryo-saram," refers to ethnic Koreans from post-Soviet states, mainly Russia, Uzbekistan and Kazakhstan.

Their diasporic existence has been marked by several stages of life-altering migrations over the last century, with each journey inextricably intertwined with the tumultuous modern history of the Korean Peninsula ― from the latter days of the 1392-1910 Joseon Kingdom and 1910-45 Japanese colonization, to forced migration under the Soviet state in 1937 and the 1950-53 Korean War.

Installation view of the ongoing photo exhibition, titled "Korean Diaspora," at the National Folk Museum of Korea (NFMK) in central Seoul / Courtesy of National Folk Museum of Korea

The National Folk Museum of Korea's (NFMK) ongoing exhibition, "Korean Diaspora," traces their historical and cultural paths via rare, decades-spanning photographic records from the 1970s to the mid-2010s.

All 60 images on view belong to a wider collection of 352 donated earlier this year by Uzbek Koryoin photographer Victor An.

"Just like the fact that music and novels have to be heard and read by others, my photos had to be seen by the people, especially Korean nationals and ethnic Koreans (who share common cultural heritage)," the photographer told The Korea Times in an email when asked about his decision behind the recent donation.

Born in Tashkent in 1947, An held different jobs, working as an ironworker, radio repairman and projectionist in his early adulthood, before his fateful encounter with photography in 1978 ― the year when "Lenin Kichi," the only Korean-language daily published within the Soviet Union at the time, opened a new branch in his hometown.

"Among all professions that I have pursued, photojournalism was the only one that lied beyond the horizon, continuing to push me to study and master the field endlessly," he said.

And as he began walking the path of a photographer, working for "Lenin Kichi," which was later rebranded as "Koryo Ilbo" in the aftermath of the dissolution of the Soviet Union in 1991, a thought crossed his mind: who, if not himself, would willingly dedicate their life to recording the history endured and shared by fellow Koryoin scattered across Russia and Central Asia?

"Self-Portrait of Victor An" / Courtesy of National Folk Museum of Korea

For the Koryoin population, the history of migration began in the late 19th century near the end of the Joseon Dynasty, when Koreans suffering from economic hardships and natural disasters gradually migrated to neighboring Russia's Primorsky Krai in search of better lives.

Following Korea's formal annexation by the Japanese Empire in 1910, this migration became full-fledged, with independence activists and intellectuals moving in waves to the Russian Far East. Communities formed in Vladivostok as a base of anti-Japan movements.

The next two decades saw a heyday for the Koryoin community, as the members established their own economic foundation, culture and identity in the Russian Far East. A number of agricultural kolkhozes (collective farms) were built in the region. Some 380 schools and a theater for ethnic Koreans were set up and over a dozen big and small Korean language newspapers began to be published.

The 1937 incident changed everything, however, when Joseph Stalin became wary of the possibility of Japanese spies infiltrating the areas where Koryoin resided. In line with his policies that marginalized ethnic minorities and pushed forceful cultural assimilation, Stalin signed off on orders to exile thousands of Koryoin to Central Asia ― a fate that was soon shared by several other ethnic groups in the Soviet Union.

A forced migration of over 170,000 Koryoin followed, as they were taken on cattle trains for a seemingly endless 6,000-kilometer journey across Central Asia until they reached the wintry, nearly barren lands of Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan. During the first winter upon their arrival, some 20,000 are said to have died due to the harsh climate and diseases.

Of course, this didn't mark the end of the Koryoin population, as they went into survival mode, transforming unusable swamps and fields of reeds and salt into cultivable land in a matter of years.

Victor An's "In the Rice Field" (1979) depicts three farmers on a collective farm located in the Namangan Region of Uzbekistan. According to the museum, the two individuals holding mattocks are Uzbek laborers, as indicated by their distinct hats, while the man in the middle is a Koryoin leader. During the Soviet era, over 100 Koryoin were honored with titles as "Heroes of Socialist Labor," following their contributions to the development of agriculture in Central Asia. Courtesy of National Folk Museum of Korea

Their remarkable contribution to the development of agriculture in Uzbekistan and Kazakhstan was evidenced by the level of productivity reported from their collective farms, with over 100 Koryoin honored by the Soviet Union as "Heroes of Socialist Labor."

Stalin's death in 1953 brought a wind of change as ethnic groups, including the Koryoin community, regained in part their right to relocate. Some of the members, especially the younger generations, advanced into larger cities in Russia and Ukraine, among others, for their education and careers.

During this period, major Koryoin communities centering on collective farms in Central Asia were able to reestablish their ethnic identity and practice their culture to a certain degree in their newfound homes.

And this is where An's photos on display at the NFMK come in.

Victor An's black-and-white image captures a classroom lesson taught by Svetlana Sergeevna Tsoy, a Korean language instructor, in Tashkent, Uzbekistan, in 1988. Courtesy of National Folk Museum of Korea

While the exhibition's official English title, "Korean Diaspora," is an overly broad label, the Korean version offers a better context for the unique cultural experiences that came to define Koryoin.

The show's Korean title, "Koreytsy, Koryo-saram," brings together two different terms that describe the existence of ethnic Koreans from post-Soviet states. The Russian term "Koreytsy" is rather all-embracing, as it makes no distinction between Koryoin and Korean nationals. On the other hand, "Koryo-saram" is a specific self-designation adopted by the community to recall their origin.

Through such a title, the show paints a distinct portrait of Koryoin, who have, over generations, formed a layered cultural identity ― one that reflects not only the community's efforts to maintain their Korean roots but also their lives led within a multiethnic society in Central Asia and Russia after their forced migration.

"In curating this exhibition, the museum's focus lied in not only pointing out some of the traditional cultural remnants of Korea witnessed in Koryoin customs, but also highlighting how they interpreted the influences of Soviet-era Russian and other local cultural practices," NFMK curator Choi Hyo-chan told The Korea Times.

"The black-and-white snapshots presented at the gallery, therefore, visualize the complexly layered dual identity of Koryoin."

Victor An's "Wedding of Anatoliya An" (1979) in the Sirdaryo Region of Uzbekistan / Courtesy of National Folk Museum of Korea

One featured section shows how Koryoin observance of traditional Korean seasonal holidays has undergone changes and twists under the Soviet Union's policy of Sovietization aimed at ethnic minorities.

Major holidays like Lunar New Year, Dano (a celebration of the end of the sowing season that falls on the fifth day of the fifth month of the lunar calendar) and Chuseok (autumn harvest festival) were rarely celebrated until the 1990s, with the exception of Hansik (day of visiting ancestral graves).

It was in the aftermath of the collapse of the Soviet Union and the establishment of diplomatic ties between Korea and Uzbekistan and Kazakhstan that the observance of these holidays was revived.

Another section of the exhibition is all about food. Some of the names of staple dishes bear traces of the dialect of Hamgyong Province in present-day North Korea, where many of ancestors of Koryoin are from, as well as hints of Russian influences.

A handful of dishes appearing in the gallery include "chaltteogi" (glutinous rice cakes) and "chimpeni" (fermented rice cakes).

"Guksi" (noodle soup), while sounding similar to Korea's "guksu," boasts a cold vinegar- and soy sauce-based broth and different toppings that can be easily obtained in Central Asia ― such as cabbage and tomatoes.

Victor An's "Making Chaltteogi (Glutinous Rice Cakes)" (1992) in Tashkent, Uzbekistan, portrays two men pounding rice with wooden mallets ― reminiscent of scenes often witnessed in rural villages of Korea during the 1970s and 1980s. Courtesy of National Folk Museum of Korea

Russian and other local influences ― both cultural and environmental ― can also be detected in several iconic rites of passage in the Koryoin community, including "dol" (a baby's first birthday), weddings, "hwangap" (one's 60th birthday) and funerals.

Notably, funerary customs from the mid- to late 20th century saw a mix of Korean traditions and local customs. Koryoin maintained the practice of writing a funeral banner called "myeongjeong" in Korean, which is inscribed with personal information about the deceased, and burning their possessions.

On the other hand, the tombs often followed local laws and traditions, as the deceased was buried in Russian Orthodox-styled cemeteries.

Uzbek Koryoin photographer Victor An, left, and Media Saram CEO Chae Ye-jin, a naturalized Koryoin from Kazakhstan who first introduced An's works to the National Folk Museum of Korea last year / Courtesy of Chae Ye-jin

In addition to the 60 photographic prints on display, hundreds of smaller slides of other images from An's donated collection can be viewed using a lightbox located in one corner of the gallery.

Also accompanying the show is a series of filmed interviews with second-generation Koryoin elders, who are living reminders of the 1937 forced migration. The interviews were conducted by Chae Ye-jin, a naturalized Koryoin from Kazakhstan who first introduced An's work to the national museum last year, and her team at Media Saram, as part of their efforts to chronicle the lives of ethnic Koreans from post-Soviet states through video.

"In recent years, the number of Koryoin settling in Korea has been on a steady increase; however, there are still many Koreans who don't have a clear idea of who Koryoin are or the reasons behind their 'return.' Instead of trying to provide lengthy explanations hundreds of times, showing the audience An's photos will hopefully resonate better," Chae said, adding that the visual testament to traces of the lives of Koryoin may offer a renewed perspective on their ethnic and diasporic existence.

To this day, An continues to wield the tool of his trade to capture the lived history of the Koryoin community.

"While we live in separate countries and think differently, what connects us is a fine thread called 'the scent of Korea,'" he noted. "To follow the scent, I keep leaving my home country of Uzbekistan and traveling farther and farther to where my fellow ethic Koreans reside."

"Korean Diaspora" runs through Nov. 7 at the NFMK.