
CHULSOO'S WORLD
BEFORE YOU ENTER
Opening this door may change the performance you imagined.
Here, you will find thoughts I never shared onstage.
They are not the definitive meaning of the work. But once you know them, you may never see the performance in quite the same way again.
Would you still like to enter?
YOUNGGAM 11 · THREE COLORS
← All chaptersCHAPTER 03
Three Stories
I placed three stories between the musical parts of the performance.
They may sound as though they have no direct connection to the music.
But for me, they connect to the thoughts that led me to make this performance.
The Older Guys
Ingyu Hwang and 곽지웅 do not say much.
That made me uncomfortable from the beginning. When I said something and got little response, I would wonder whether I had done something wrong, or whether they did not enjoy being with me.
But spending a long time together has not made that discomfort disappear.
In fact, I am still uncomfortable.
I still wonder what they think, and sometimes their silence frustrates me.
But they still do not say much.
And we still play together.
It is interesting when I think about it. The discomfort remains unresolved, yet the relationship continues.
I have not changed them, and they have not changed me.
It will probably continue to be uncomfortable.
But does that discomfort really have to disappear?
Sleeping Arrangements
Even after I got married, I was uncomfortable sleeping in the same bed as someone else.
Once we had a child, sleeping arrangements became more complicated.
Eventually, we found a way for each of us to sleep comfortably.
I find this story funny.
Sharing a bed can be uncomfortable even with someone you love.
Yet that does not mean there is a lack of love.
Living together does not necessarily mean living in the same way.
I like our sleeping arrangements now.
Hoyoon
When I met 이호윤 and we began improvising together, I said one thing.
"You play traditional Korean music. I'll play jazz. Let's not try to fit ourselves to each other."
But once we started playing, we were fitting ourselves to each other.
It was strange.
We had agreed to do things differently, yet we were naturally making music by listening and responding to one another's sounds.
Should we consciously stop that?
I found that moment interesting instead.
Existing differently did not mean forming no relationship at all.
I could not know what form that relationship would take.