Friday, January 23, 2009
Seoul Shots: Shooting Up the Palace
You’ve been very patient. Here’s your candy:
In Seoul, almost nothing looks like it’s been there since the Silla Dynasty - because it hasn’t. The ancientest things are earthen funerary mounds, which are always interesting but not often very culturally-distinguishing. The city is jammed with beautiful tall buildings and clunky mid- and low-rises that are covered with han-geul signage but otherwise could be almost anywhere. But there are a few places where the essential, overwhelming koreanness that is unmistakeable though often incohate is truly made concrete - though not by use of concrete. Rather, it’s wood and stone, brick and mortar.
The Palace of Gyongbukgung is reached via wide, mad roads full of careening vehicles that speak eloquently to the modernity of the city and its frenetic pace. But the thick stone wall with its curved tile cornice that surrounds the palace speaks equally eloquently to a different, hidden aspect of the city, which is in fact its soul:
This was taken from the steps of the first main court building, looking out toward the gatehouse and the city beyond it, one senses the deep roots under the flagstone courtyard (intentionally made uneven to avoid blinding on the reviewing stand) and the deep disparity between what’s outside that wall and what’s inside.
Here’s the symphony of rooflines that weave and intersect in constantly changing patterns as you walk among them - not so enormous as to destroy the human scale of the place, so you always feel that you belong there, but tall and soaring enough to pull one’s eyes constantly upwards along their swooping edges:
The roofs are not merely tiled with beautiful masonry laid in perfect ranks; they also feature veritable menageries at every peakline. They all appeared to be different, but this one is a good example of how much thought and artistry went into some of these details.
The place is, of course, heavily guarded by the KAS (Korean Anachronist Society). While I never felt personally threatened by their enormous shiny swords and battleaxes, I’ll admit readily that they were impressive.
Plus, apart from being so well guarded, the place was under lock and key.
That’s why we had to sneak in. With our local hosts, who bought us tickets. But even so, we tried to keep a low profile. There’s no reason to antagonize someone with such large weapons.
Inside we found many courtyards, throne rooms, private family apartments, and other chambers, spaces and rooms that would have made for great photos with a slightly more sophisticated camera, and a memory card that didn’t destroy so many of my decent shots. However, it was basically impossible to take a bad photo of the room set in the reflecting pool, though admittedly I didn’t try too hard to mess it up. Here’s two:
Finally, in the main courtyard, they’d set up a stand where visitors could try on authentic ancient Korean headgear. The children looked painfully cute in it - here’s Zach with Jesse’s foster-sister:
and zach by himself:
and I don’t want any more giggling from the rest of you.
That’s what I’ve got from Gyongbukgung. Up next: food and streetscapes. I mean, once I get around to uploading them. You should pace yourself with this stuff. I don’t want to be responsible for any drownings or anything. (oh, and if you are grousing about me not posting any photos of Jesse, check that first one again - lower right corner. There ya go, commodore!)
