Korean Popular Culture

The Textbook-in-progress of the Ivy League's first class on the Korean Wave. This blog is the work of University of Pennsylvania EALC 198/598 students (Spring 2006 & 2007). Please apply proper citation when using any part of this blog. For details on citing this site see: http://www.bedfordstmartins.com/online/cite5.html#1

Friday, April 14, 2006

English elsewhere in Asia

This is not my entry for this week, but thought I threw in something to update the class on English-language acquisition in Asia.

Other countries are also taking on the English-challenge. I have attached an article by the Economist regarding English Language learning in China. But I guess the difference from Korea is that people embrace it individually, not as a national, collective whole. From my observation so far, there is this apparent culture of collective embrace by Korea that I've not seen in other Asian countries (except in times of revolution, etc.)

- ARC

"The language business in China"

English beginning to be spoken here

Apr 12th 2006 | SHENZHEN
From The Economist print edition

The market for English-language education in China is huge. The profits are not

“MY MOTHER used to be an engineer, but now she's a housewife. I don't like her job. I want to be a designer. I like to think up new ideas.” Not the words of a young British or American child, but a nine-year-old Chinese girl in Shenzhen city, southern China. And Shun Yushun is no prodigy. She is typical of her English First school, one of 68 on the mainland started by a Swedish-owned language-teaching chain.

Yushun belongs to a new generation in a country where older folks, deprived of education during the Cultural Revolution, speak almost no English at all. Even young adults struggle, having passed through an archaic school system that still insists on the brute memorisation of words and grammar. Zhang Jin, a 24-year-old from remote Guizhou province, studied English from the age of 12 and then for four years at Huanan University. But she has trouble putting a sentence together.

Today the Chinese are obsessed with English. Anything up to a fifth of the population is learning the language. As Gordon Brown, the British finance minister, observed on a trip to China last year, in two decades China's English speakers will already outnumber native English speakers in the rest of the world. This is fuelling a market that comprises everything from books, teaching materials and tests to teacher training and language schools themselves. At $60 billion a year, China is already the world's largest market for English-language services, estimates Mari Pearlman at ETS, an American group that developed TOEFL, a well-known test of English-language proficiency.

The bulk of this, she says, is spent on teaching materials: dictionaries, language textbooks and classroom aids. Most of these are supplied by the education arms of foreign companies in partnership with local firms. Macmillan has sold more than 100m school textbooks in China with its partner FLTRP, which has a fifth of the market and is the leading Chinese publisher of English-language books. Longman (which belongs to Pearson, part-owner of The Economist), Oxford University Press and HarperCollins have popular bilingual dictionaries, while Thomson Learning has licensed its teaching materials to People's Education Press.



Never too young to learn
Demand for textbooks has been boosted by the government's recent lowering (from 12 to nine) of the age at which primary-school pupils start to learn English, and many eastern cities have begun teaching it at six. On some estimates, English texts now account for up to one-fifth of the country's entire book sales. Though foreign publishers must license books to Chinese publishers, almost half the English-teaching market involves the purchase of foreign copyright.

There is also an increasing call for high-tech teaching. At its kindergartens, Beijing's municipal government has just started testing interactive whiteboards made by a British firm, Promethean. At 33,000 yuan ($4,125) a go, they enable teachers to integrate traditional materials with movie clips, radio broadcasts and other internet content. Nicole de Lalouvière, the director of learning at the British Council in Beijing, claims its website, managed with a Chinese partner and offering free tests, vocabulary and business English, has become “the biggest online university in the world”, with 2m students.

Testing is also growing fast, as students with overseas ambitions practise for international college-entrance exams, and Chinese employers seek proof of English ability. Once again, foreigners are in pole position, though the two main suppliers, ETS and a venture between the British Council and Cambridge Assessment, are run as not-for-profit organisations. Teacher training promises to become another big market, given the shortage of half a million English teachers in state schools and Beijing's push to improve English ahead of the 2008 Olympics.

Finally, there are the private language schools themselves—some 50,000 of them, reckons Ms Pearlman, from family-run outfits to chains such as English First, Wall Street English and New Oriental, a Chinese operator that claims to be the biggest, with 2.5m enrolled students. While such schools were established for adults, the demand today is from parents willing to spend up to half their household income to boost their offspring's chances. The 550 students at English First's Shenzhen school used mostly to be adults; now more than 70% are children. And they are getting younger. The rage at kindergarten these days is English-speaking classes for four-year-olds.

Adults and college students, meanwhile, can choose from the many business-English classes at foreign colleges, such as the universities of Illinois, Maryland and Nottingham, which are establishing MBA courses and even entire campuses in China to tap into the huge numbers of potential students.

Yet not all this readily translates into profit. Education remains highly regulated. It is no accident that the state propaganda department controls the ministry of education, which only recently allowed (heavily edited) English textbooks from foreign publishers into the state system. Foreigners still cannot publish in China, receiving only royalties on their content. Their partners (such as FLTRP) use their materials to do a roaring business training teachers and running conferences. Though selling books to private language-schools can be more lucrative, these schools are also shackled. Foreign chains need a Chinese partner and must have their teaching materials approved. The difficulties and costs prompted English First to franchise all but four of its 68 schools: after a decade in China it has yet to recoup its investment.

The Chinese government is not entirely comfortable with western teaching methods. China has no government drive to welcome native English speakers, unlike Japan, where the ministry of education runs the 19-year-old JET programme, which puts thousands of foreign teachers to work in state schools. Indeed, until a few years ago, private language schools in China could be fined for hiring foreign English teachers.

Although China's passion for English is palpable, it will become a lucrative and open market only if China's Communist Party allows it to. It is reluctant because, along with English textbooks and teachers come western ways of learning and thinking—ways that might one day threaten the party's authority.

Shin Sang-ok, Pioneer of Korean Cinema, Passes Away




For those of us old enough to remember, there was once a movie called, Three Ninjas Kick Back. Though this movie was not remembered for its story or cinematography, its executive producer was no other than Shin Sang Ok, one of the pioneering figures of South Korean and even North Korean cinema. Though, I'm sure he does not want to be remembered for B-Rated Hollywood films, I'm pretty sure he will be remembered as the legendry film icon in both Koreas.

Last week, Prof Kim touched on him shortly when discussing North Korean films. During the 70s and 80s, there was great development in the films of South Korea. For those who do not know, Kim Jong Il is a HUGE movie fan. Before he was the Dear Leader, he had directed many plays and written some screenplays. Fully aware that North Korean films were not on par with the South, Kim kidnapped, Sang Ok and his actress wife, Choi Un-Hee, from Seoul. There, he made films for Kim Jong Il including the cult film, Pulgasari, a North Korean remake of Godzilla.

In 1986, the two made a daring escape that drew the attention of the international media, and later traveled to the U.S. where they worked as producers in Washington and Los Angeles. Sang Ok will definetly be remembered.

- Alex Liu

Thursday, April 13, 2006

Music Video Review: Lee Soo-young


“I am so confused.” After watching the music video titled “Secret” by Lee Soo-young, I felt like I had missed some very important parts in it. I watched it over again, but was still confused. Two girls seemed to like the same guy, and the guy winked at one girl and kissed to another girl’s forehead. However, the overall blue tone of this video denied to be considered as one simply about a playboy. Looking for the information about this music video online, I found out that this was the latter one of the serialized two music videos in Lee Soo-young’s 4th album. Understanding the whole story finally after having watched the former one of the series, “Grace,” I was impressed at the new marketing strategy in making music videos, and also depressed with the overly dramatic factors even beyond reason which are interrupting this novel strategy.
A girl with the acrophobia joins the hot-air balloon club after having crush on a guy who was performing kendo for a fund-raising event of the club. Later, she realizes that he had lost his sight due to the explosion during a chemical experiment and his girlfriend gave one of her eyes to him by corneal transplant. Although he gets more attracted to the girl too, he lets her leave, kissing on her forehead.
In the former music video “Grace,” the story is developed by only the girl’s point of view. Moreover, since some of incidents are not organized in chronological order and are left not explained fully, it’s pretty hard to understand the whole story by watching the former one only, stimulating viewers’ curiosity and interest. As more people talk about this music video, want to understand the whole story and when their curiosity is maximized finally, the latter one is released. In the second half of these serialized music videos, the secrets of the first half are revealed, as the title says. An empty can with the colorful balloons hung on the girl’s door showed that he liked her too, and his girlfriend’s corneal donation explained why he had to let the girl go. These two music videos became very popular with this marketing strategy, stimulating people’s curiosity before revealing the secrets.
However, the effect of this clever marketing strategy was lessened by some factors even beyond reason. For example, the eyes of both of the guy and his girlfriend look normal even though each one of them can’t see after the corneal transplant. Also, when the girlfriend cries, the tear drops from her left eye and from his right eye at the same time, wherever he is. It is assumed to be added for dramatic development of the story, but these settings are not possible scientifically, losing viewers’ trust. I could not help laughing at the girl’s surprised facial expression when she was unblindfolded in the hot-air balloon in the upper air. How can one not recognize that he or she is not on the ground?
I have seen many serialized music videos so far, but never seen chronologically disorganized ones like these. Making viewers confused and amplifying their interest and curiosity, these two music videos succeeded in marketing in Korea according to my friends there. If the director concentrated more on making sense scientifically as he did on attracting viewers’ attention, this series would have been even more successful.

Tuesday, April 11, 2006

Hwang Woo Suk: From Pride of Korea to....


I recall one of the highlights of last Summer was hearing that the world's first cloned dog, SNUPPY, did not come from the US or Europe, but from South Korea. I think this was a huge highlight and advancement for not only science, but Asia as a whole. It clearly showed that Korea was not catching up with the rest of the world, but was now in this elite circle and was making contributions. Basically, after SNUPPY was created, Hwang Woo Suk, the creater, became known as "The Pride of Korea." He got god-like status at Seoul National University, free transportation by Korean Airlines, and basically became as respected as anyone can get. I, myself, also viewed him as Asian Hero. Stem cell research was and is a hot topic and he was taking full advantage that it was not being pursued in the US. Hwang's work gave hope to millions of people around the world.

Imagine my dismay, when his image as the "Pride of Korea" went into flames. Although tests show that SNUPPY was indeed REAL, his later studies were proved to be fabricated. Hwang was fired from SNU and jail charges are being considered. So my question is, what are your thoughts on Hwang Woo Suk? Was he a national hero? Is he still one? Did he even know what he was doing?

In Korea, the term ba-lee, which means quick is often said. Despite being practically destroyed after the Korean War, South Korea has come a long way since those days. Did Hwang have this mentality/ pressure on him? The government and media kept painting him as a superman and wanted to constantly see results. When questioned after the scandal broke out, he constantly states that if given 90 days, he can back up his findings. Should Hwang be given another chance?

- Alex Liu