o WSJ Japan japanese edition + WSJ Europe + WSJ Americas o en Espa?ol o em Portugu?s -- Getty Images PSY performs onstage during the 40th American Music Awards held at Nokia Theatre L.A. Live on November 18, 2012 in Los Angeles, California. A month ago, on a riotously lovely morning in Orange County, California, I stumbled into perhaps the most convincing display I’ve yet encountered of the potency of hallyu – a Korean term that literally translates as “The Korean Wave.” I’d been invited to be a panelist at KCON ‘12, which billed itself as “the first-ever large scale convention dedicated to the hottest entertainment coming out of Korea.” The event was conceived of and organized by the cable channel MNET America, the U.S. branch of the hugely popular Korean music network that might be called the “MTV of Korea” (except that MTV is in Korea and MNET is way bigger). I’ll admit that my initial response was skeptical. Even as I accepted the invitation to speak, I suppressed a nagging fear that MNET was forcing into existence something that wasn’t there, trying to engineer a need among K-Pop fans to gather as a collective from the top down, rather than letting it spring up from the grassroots. It’s a concern that worried the executive who spearheaded the event, too. “We knew that the fandom was out there. We’d seen these fan gatherings spontaneously manifest at other events we’d sponsored,” says Ted Kim, EVP and U.S. chief of MNET America’s parent company, CJ Entertainment America. “But we were struggling, because it’s very hard to get good data when it comes to phenomena like this. You’re just not able to quantify things. And at some point, you just need to make a leap of faith.” That leap entailed booking the Verizon Amphitheatre in Irvine, California, for an event that combined workshops about organizing fan clubs and breaking into K-Pop, karaoke showdowns and dance-offs, autograph sessions, food trucks and merchandise booths and a grand-finale concert featuring some very attractive young people and a Technicolor SFX lightshow that could probably be seen from space. -- convince me that the secret to global pop dominance in this day and age is virginal purity. Hips don’t lie, people! Another reason that Hong gives is that Americans are seen as heroes of the Korean War, and as a result, Korea has been more “closely influenced” by U.S. pop culture than Japan – noting that even today, there are still 30,000 American soldiers (actually, around 28,000) permanently based in Korea. Yes, but there are also over 35,000 American soldiers permanently based in Japan, plus another 5500 military-employed American civilians and 10,000 American military spouses and dependents. Did Korea embrace American pop culture more readily than Japan because the U.S. was seen as heroic? That’s not clearly the case. Despite, or more properly because of its defeat, Japan after World War II actively sought to immerse itself in the culture (especially the popular culture) of its triumphant occupiers, leading to a rapid “Americanization” period in which the media fantasies and material goods of the U.S. vision of the “good life” were prized above all. As Rikyo University law and political science professor Akio Igarashi notes, “In the immediate postwar period, what a majority of Japanese hoped for was the realization of a rational and affluent society… The spacious rooms and the big white refrigerator in the comic strip, Blondie, helped people to imagine the affluence of the American lifestyle….For Japanese at the time, America’s prosperous culture of consumption, symbolized by chewing gum, chocolate, and women’s fashion, represented ‘the American Dream.’” Korea embraced American ideas, media, fashion and consumer aspirations after the Korean War too, but in the ensuing decades, a sharp and growing sense of ambivalence has emerged toward the U.S. Panmi, or anti-American sensibility, has generally strengthened since the Eighties, peaking in 2002 following controversy over short-track speed skater Apolo Anton Ohno’s Olympic gold medal over South Korean rival Kim Dong-Sung, and the accidental deaths of two Korean middle-schoolers under the wheels of a U.S. military vehicle. (This was the year in which a RAND survey found that over 60 percent of South Koreans felt “unfavorable” attitudes toward the U.S.; meanwhile Japanese favorability toward the U.S. has remained over 50 percent for decades and is the second-highest in the world right now, after only the U.S.’s opinion of itself. 2002 was also the year singer Yoon Min-Suk released his cult-hit song “F*ckin’ USA,” to massive media attention.) And it’s not even obvious that embracing American ideas is necessarily the path to pop-culture export success for Asian countries anyway. In the U.S., Asian performers and products that have attempted to ape American sensibilities for the sake of global crossover have universally failed. Dozens of Japanese performers, from Seiko to Utada, Hong Kong’s Coco Lee and Korea’s BoA, Se7en, Wonder Girls and Girls Generation have all made runs at breakthrough success by singing English-language songs and engaging in massive media and PR campaigns, all without much to show for their hard work. The exception to this rule, PSY, was a pop-culture land mine who blew by accident, refusing to be anything but himself and performing a song with Korean lyrics that are incomprehensible to non-Koreans even in translation. In fact, the most successful Korean pop exports that Hong cites, from its idols to its films and dramas to Samsung’s effervescent avalanche of consumer electronics and VOOZ’s winsome licensing franchise Pucca, all represent evolutionary improvements on Japanese templates — not American ones. Korea has effectively dominated the pop culture cosmos by out-Japanning Japan, and, as Hong points out, doing so even in Japan itself, which is still in the throes of a Korean-pop obsession. The question remains, however, whether Korea’s impressive winning run can continue indefinitely, or even long-term. I’m not yet convinced that’s the case. Japanese pop culture has come to the American landscape in the form of visual media — primarily anime and manga. (Games too, but up until very recently, Japanese video games came to the U.S. with most of their unique cultural context flensed away so as not to freak out American parents.) Because those media forms were naturally produced and presented in Japanese, J-Pop fandom erupted organically and grew epidemically out of a kind of language-hacking Underground Railroad of pirate BBS’s that offered downloadable English script translations and VHS-tape-trading marketplaces. In short, fandom flourished because the only way to enjoy authentic J-Pop in that early era was through connections to the fan community. (In fact, the hardest-core fans eventually became the U.S. anime and manga industry, launching the first legit English-language distribution houses, and thus laying the foundation for a subsequent generation’s total immersion in Japanese cultural products.) -- And because music is auditory, not visual, it’s a medium that lends itself to addictive consumption and maniacal appreciation, but not the kinds of collaborative phenomena that are the pillars of most pop-culture activity and community — things like cosplay (dressing up as favored characters) and fan fiction (extending or re-envisioning beloved works through original fanmade stories and art). All of these factors point to the reality that K-Pop in its current modes isn’t a very blendable medium. Its fans want to consume it in as pure and unadulterated form as possible — with incomprehensible language, odd visual idioms and untranslatable nuances entirely intact. The visual media of J-Pop have been culture-hacked and hybridized from the very beginning, often in ways that have caused hard-core fans to grit their teeth — but this flexibility has also allowed it to readily mainstream into U.S. culture, even to the point where even American-made homages (like virtually every cartoon now airing on kiddie TV) are as popular as the Japanese originals. By contrast, I don’t think it’s obvious that an American artist emulating K-Pop tropes can succeed either in the U.S. or abroad (though it’s not for want of a few earnest artists trying). This would seem to sharply limit the market upside of K-Pop, and its ultimate long-term influence. It’s ironic: K-Pop’s recent success is in no small part because it has played on its own terms. But its long-term future depends on its ability to cling to the things that make it unique while relaxing its purist Koreanness. For it to become a truly global phenomenon, it needs ambassadors who are idiosyncratic but have universal appeal, who can speak English fluently but wear their cultural pride on their sleeve. It needs artists who can collaborate with foreign performers and who inspire mash-up creativity among overseas audiences. -- o 11:16 am February 9, 2013 o blaster wrote: i agree with the large number of American troops currently based in the USA it makes it all more so. along with the sales of hello kitty going down has been a major influence in kpop in America. along with the increase sales of samsung products and apple components made by samsung it only increases the chance of kpop to only be more popular in America. we also know that all apple products are assembled in china so we can soon expect a wave of chinese pop music to grow in polarity as well. not to mention large number of Chinese restaurants in America. then again we can also take into account that some songs may not be bad and thats why they become popular. * +