Last updated on August 16, 2024
Traditional-style Korean houses, or “hanok,” have made the news as the latest Korean wave export.
Reports have it that a construction company has proposed building a village in China and that development of similar villages in Germany and the United States is under consideration. This news is particularly ironic to preservationists in Korea who see hanok either being demolished in wave after wave of “redevelopment” or torn down and rebuilt as completely new houses.
The idea that hanok should join the Korean wave as a cultural export raises the essential question of how Korea can export something that it is destroying at home. All other Korean wave cultural products were nurtured at home before going overseas and have received sustained support after doing so.
A brisk walk through Bukchon, the area with the highest concentration of hanok, reveals rows of attractive tile-roofed houses along winding alleys. Some alleys offer expansive views of downtown Seoul with Mt. Namsan behind it. The area is now one of the most popular tourist areas for Koreans and foreigners alike.
To its credit, the city has instituted strict building guidelines and has supported much of the improvement with financial investment since the early 2000s. The most dramatic form of investment has been direct financial grants and low-interest loans to owners of hanok.
A closer look, however, reveals a number of problems that affect not only Bukchon, but historical preservation in other areas of Seoul. The most serious problem is that many hanok that could be repaired and restored are destroyed and then rebuilt again from the ground up. This not only raises the cost of the “preservation,” but more importantly destroys a structure of historic value. The result is a completely new house that looks like a hanok, some with steep walls and garages that turn the alleys into caverns.
A related problem is that the design guidelines define hanok narrowly and required owners who receive financial support from the city to fit those guidelines. The guidelines are based on Joseon-period architectural concepts, even though nearly all of the hanok in Bukchon were built after 1930. Glass windows with frosted stencil designs, for example, which were popular in 20th century hanok, are prohibited because they are not “traditional.” The use of tiles is prohibited for the same reason. The result is that many of the “preserved” hanok look alike and have an artificial, almost kitsch, feeling to them.
For all its problems, Bukchon can still be called a success. The historic feeling of the area has been preserved and nobody is pushing redevelopment. Without direct intervention from the city, much of Bukchon would probably have turned into ugly four-story multi-family units.
The success of Bukchon has created another problem: other areas with large concentrations of hanok have been largely ignored. Seeing this mistake, the city instituted plans in 2010 to preserve Seochon, the neighborhood on the west side of Gyeongbok Palace with a large number of hanok. “Redevelopment” of other older areas of the city such as Seongbuk-gu and Seodaemun-gu has resulted (or will soon result) in the loss of large number of hanok. Of the total number of hanok remaining in Seoul, only 1,800 at most, or 10 percent, are in Bukchon and Seochon.
All of which means that the future of hanok in Seoul is limited to areas on the both sides of Gyeongbok Palace and a few random houses that somehow escaped the wrecking ball. No doubt someone will come up with the idea of building completely new planned hanok villages, but they will look more like a Korean version of 1950s-style Colonial American style suburbs.
Korea changes fast, however, and recent changes in attitudes offer hope. The city needed to intervene dramatically in the early 2000s because there was no market for hanok. At the time, apartments were king and hanok were viewed as old and inconvenient. These views are still dominant, but they have weakened. Younger Koreans who grew up in apartments in the democratizing 1990s are now looking for something different. Aging baby boomers are turning into empty nesters and they, too, are looking for something different.
The keyword, then, is difference. During the era of rapid economic growth, apartments were a quick and effective solution to an intense shortage of housing in the booming cities. From the 1970s onward, the government policy supported the apartment paradigm at the expense of other forms of housing. Times have changed as Koreans have become more discerning, resulting in diversifying tastes in housing.
To meet the demand for different types of housing, the city needs to develop policies that support preservation of hanok in areas beyond Bukchon. It also needs to develop a system that helps owners with repairs and minor renovations as well as major renovations. Over time, a competitive market for renovation should emerge will make hanok living a sustainable alternative for those who choose it.