Ziúr: An ear for change

Could you explain what nongak music is and how it has inspired your work?

“nongak is a traditional music that connects to the rich history of Sadangpae, vagabond groups of musicians and entertainers that travelled and performed the art of ‘pungmul’ all over the Korean peninsula. It incorporates choreography and traditional beliefs, customs and rituals that would inhabit ancient agricultural fields to accompany life, death, and celebration of common people. Luckily, during the post-war reconstruction of South Korea, some pioneers and researchers archived and gathered the old ways to introduce it to a new audience under government support. It made it into the modern classrooms thanks to their huge effort and I got the chance to learn it within the public education system. You can even see nongak in the Korean media when there’s something to celebrate, like on national holidays. It’s a part of being a Korean person.

Growing up queer, I sensed how pungmul and its little cultural aspects are deeply rooted in the patriarchy of Confucianism and its troubles. Questions about identity formed and lingered in my mind, until I decided to tackle those ideas in a musical form.”

What aspects of nongak initially at

tracted you to studying it? “One year at school, I had to perform something at a talent show. Everybody else played boring recorders, but I was different. I had a close friend who offered to teach me how to play janggu and I did it! That was 17 years ago. I didn’t pursue music professionally then —  I’m a media major. I even forgot everything about janggu before I dipped back into nongak. It was through the scope of club music that I saw big potential in its beats, because some phrases are very suitable for a nightclub frenzy. It’s so fast and energetic, yet so simple! I hope that more musicians will actually bring these beats to their music, and not just the traditional instru-

What was the process like of familiarizing yourself and gaining mastery over

this form of music? “Oh...my music is the farthest from mastery! I may be dabbing into its shallow waters, making small ripples. Anyway, watching YouTube videos of ensemble performances in samulnori and nongak gives you such energy, and then when you hit the jeongganbo — music notation invented by none other than Sejong the Great himself — , you flinch because it just has this cut pieces of phrases in pictures and says ‘repeat.’ It’s kind of like jazz sheet music. So, I’m lost...but I’m also happy at the same time, because I have the know-how to put the music into MIDI blocks. I knew how it should sound, I knew how to read the sheet music, but I didn’t know how to actually play it. I believe that gave me the headspace to make something different and unique.”

How do you think your modern practice of reinterpreting nongak relates to or

diverges from its traditional roots? “I feel confident about the rhythm, because it is more fixed, but at the same time it has the potential to be jammed and experimented with. From there I build my own narrative of sound. I fill in the gaps between the beats with melodies and sound textures that verges away from the traditional instruments. What I tried to achieve through the Guidelines EP was purely musical, put out of its original context. I had to reinvent the picture, mainly because I am disconnected from the old value system.

Sadangpaes were treated as the lowest of the social ranks. Those who played nongak music used to be segregated from society on different levels. Now their art is taught all around the country and it is a legitimate career path. However, the sense of disregard is still strong in the collective subconsciousness. Being a musician is still

considered to be one of the worst paths to this day. Parents cry to stop you from pursuing weird music other than classical and K-Pop. I am owning that. I embraced the contemporary club culture because the aux cord is shared now. I want to truly celebrate being queer with this music. And I want to see how this music can take on different forms. In that sense, I fell away from the traditions.”

What are the challenges and possibilities of translating your work to a live

setting? “Recently, someone in the Korean traditional music scene suggested including nongak performers in my set. There are plenty of actual nongak performers who could perform perfect nongak for you, but I’m still in the process of learning how to reach out to people, which will allow me to explore such methods of collaboration. For now, I perform alone. It’s only recently, among the comfort of supportive friends from similar backgrounds, that I realized that I am driven by anger when I make sounds. Now that I found a reason behind my creative process, I could start finding ways to express it in a performance. Now it is quite clear: I grab a mic and a multi-effector and I show people my best anger through the medium of computer and voice. Of course, I dream of composing works for professional performers. One day, perhaps, when they’re ready!”

Ziúr

by Bouke Mekel (whirlnl)

An ear for change

In Berlin, Punk artist Ziúr grew into the authentic sound manipulator she now is, both in the studio and behind the CDs— always seeking out and pushing at boundaries. She’s played Rewire before, back in 2018, and now she’s back with a doubleheader of performances: as part of duo Myxomy and in a multimedia collective with dancer Kianí del Valle and video artist Sander Houtkruijer.

Ziúr grew up in a provincial town where she started teaching herself how to make punk music: putting her versatile voice to good use as a singer, enthusiastically charging into the crowd and rolling around on the floor. She was afraid of not being good enough to contribute when using musical instruments, and was also never given the chance. When, years later, she did finally have a go at drums and guitar it turned out that, even if she couldn’t play a perfect Jimi Hendrix solo, she most certainly could produce a shedload of creative guitar sounds. She started to write more and more numbers and, through her interactions with sound engineering she eventually came into contact with the world of sound manipulation through digital audio editing system Logic. She developed further as an electronic artist and DJ after moving to cultural hotbed Berlin. As a newcomer, she was struck by the conformist attitude of the Berlin squatting scene, and decided she no longer wanted to be part of a punk scene that demanded adherence to a particular set of codes. She felt she was not being understood or appreciated, but eventually came across kindred spirits including Aïsha Devi, James Ginzburg, Slikback and Elvin Brandhi, with whom she was able to enter into projects with complete freedom.

During the recent period dominated by the coronavirus pandemic — aptly described by a friend of hers as “the chewing gum years” — she spent a lot of time in her studio perfecting her unique audio world on four albums and several EPs. She is currently working on what she calls her “jazz album”, which has a key role for rototoms. Her EP Now Now (2021), which was created spontaneously in just 27 hours, is exemplary of her oeuvre: her voice, comforting and melodic on Bleak, flows beautifully through the shocking evolutions of her emotion-drenched soundscapes. OG