At , metallic clicks ring out as pingpong balls are served. The soft buzz of chatter floats through the halls. Outside, a fountain gurgles as it sprays water in the nearby pond.
But the sound of more than a dozen drums beaten in unison thunders in and out of the center, overpowering it all. It鈥檚 not just loud, you can feel it. The pulsing rhythm vibrates through the floor and walls up through your body and fingertips.
It鈥檚 Tuesday afternoon practice for the Arirang Texas Group, a club of Korean seniors who perform a Korean folk music tradition called that involves drumming, singing and dancing. The specific version of pungmul they perform is called samulnori, which is a modernized, indoor version. Kyong Cooper, one of the group鈥檚 teachers, travels for most of the year but is always eager to rejoin practices.
鈥淥h gosh, it鈥檚 better than sex,鈥� she said. 鈥淚t鈥檚 very satisfying. You can see me and I go crazy 鈥� another person comes out of me when I鈥檓 playing.鈥�
It鈥檚 true that the room is bursting with energy and joy. Wearing Korean clothes like matching cobalt blue jokki or vests, they twirl in unison and beat the janggu, or small drum. At moments, they pause their drumming to bellow out a chant in unison.
Traditional Korean folk music has immense cultural, social and historical significance. Pungmul is considered 鈥渇armer鈥檚 music鈥� that includes the many repetitive motions that imitate agricultural work. ,鈥� the namesake of the group, is the name of a popular folk song that is considered the unofficial national anthem of Korea. It鈥檚 taught to Korean children from a young age and is sung as a lullaby, in festivals, on holidays and during moments of grief. The song is so important that it was accepted twice on the UNESCO cultural heritage list, for North and South Korea.
鈥淎谤颈谤补苍驳鈥� is a centuries-old, bittersweet melody that describes the broken love between a couple. It now represents the historical division between North and South Korea. The song has also been sung as a form of protest against Japan鈥檚 occupation of Korea and subsequent efforts to erase Korean culture.
鈥淏ut during the Japanese occupation, this song was not permitted because they [thought] we are gathering,鈥� Cooper said. 鈥淧eople somehow [thought there鈥檚 a] hidden message with this.鈥�
Despite that cultural suppression, 鈥淎谤颈谤补苍驳鈥� and pungmul have survived and remain essential to Korean culture.
When asked if she鈥檚 worried whether 鈥淎谤颈谤补苍驳鈥� will die out, Cooper incredulously responds, 鈥淣o.鈥� She points to the way released their own which has 13 million views on YouTube.
Drumming away at samulnori
While the beauty of the group鈥檚 performances can make samulnori seem effortless, it's physically and mentally challenging.
Each samulnori performance requires carefully coordinated drum beating, choreography and chanting. There鈥檚 not an elaborate score that everyone reads. Instead, there are certain memorized rhythms and chants that have been passed down generation after generation. Lead teacher Kyong Sun Kim stands at the front of the class and conducts while giving instructions through a headphone set.
For about three hours twice a week, the group drills passages so that performances can be seamless. It can take the group two years to master a single song. Just learning how to handle the drumsticks correctly is a feat in and of itself, Cooper said.
鈥�It is very difficult to learn because you have to use both hands and it has beats and all that,鈥� she said.
That鈥檚 why Kim volunteers several hours of her time each week to give free lessons to other Korean elders in the group who want to learn samulnori.
Though training up newbies takes a considerable amount of her time and energy, Kim said it鈥檚 worth it.
鈥淪o now, I feel very rewarded doing this. Expanding our members is important. However, it is important we don鈥檛 forget about our traditional instruments or dancing,鈥� she said. 鈥淓ven though we live in America, this is the opportunity to demonstrate our Korean traditions.鈥�
Kim started the group out in 2021 during the pandemic with seven or eight people practicing in the park. Now, the group has grown to over 30 people at different levels of expertise with more than half being beginners.
Choon Hee Moon, 72, is one of the newer members in the group. While pungmul is centuries-old, it鈥檚 a new adventure for her.
鈥淣ow I鈥檓 old, I can spend time doing new things as a leisure activity,鈥� she said. 鈥淭his is very helpful to me.鈥�
Members in the group can train on four instruments: the janggu (small drum), ggwaenggwari (small gong), buk (barrel drum) and jing (large drum).
Johnny Yu, another one of the group鈥檚 teachers, said each instrument represents a different sound in nature.
鈥淭his is a janggu, representing rain. That little gong kkwaenggwari
representing thunder and this big gong we call jing is the wind,鈥� he said.
鈥榃e鈥檙e not just waiting to go to hospice鈥�
Arirang Texas member Scott Kim dances to BTS鈥� pop rendition of the classic song as he wears a sangmo, or traditional Korean folk arts hat. It has an attached ribbon that鈥檚 over 12 feet long and is adorned with traditional Korean coins. Kim looks like a human spinning top as he jumps and whips his head around to make the ribbon flourish through the air.
At 60, Kim is considered one of the younger members of the group. On his own, he learned how to perform with a sangmo after seeing it in Korea and importing it to the U.S. about a decade ago.
To perform, Kim says you 鈥渏ump and [go] across. I鈥檓 going to put it between both legs. But it鈥檚 hard for me 鈥� I鈥檓 60 years old.鈥�
While the group practices samulnori together, Arirang Texas is about much more than that. It鈥檚 also a space to find community and give back. Each practice, members take turns bringing break time food. Today, it鈥檚 chicken wings and fried rice. And in a few weeks, the group will have a picnic in the park.
Arirang Texas also shares its passion across North Texas, performing at Korean supermarkets, restaurant openings and schools. One of their performances earlier this year was at the unveiling of in Korean and English in Dallas鈥� Koreatown.
The Arirang Texas Group is deeply important to its members and they鈥檙e grateful to have the Carrollton Senior Center for practices. In the past, Cooper said it was difficult to have group practices because of the noise.
鈥淪o, a lot of places don't allow us to perform this or practice,鈥� she said. 鈥淲e used to have a place when we first learned where everybody every day, complained, 鈥楾oo much noise, too much noise.鈥� We used to cover [the drums] with fabric to make less noise.鈥�
Cooper may be a senior, but she said the group shows being older doesn鈥檛 mean life is over.
鈥淚t鈥檚 dedicated people who enjoy their culture and they would like to show the community what seniors can do,鈥� she said. 鈥淭here鈥檚 life far more than going to Walmart on the weekend. It鈥檚 just being a productive citizen. We鈥檙e not just waiting to go to hospice.鈥�
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