
The notes follow pansori from two origin views to two schools, and they stop at the start of the Seopyeonje line.
Pansori, the notes write, is a compound of pan and sori. Pan is a noun meaning the place or scene where something happens, or a place where many people gather; sori is taken as a human voice, or a song. Discussion of the origin splits in two, and the columnist Kim Sang-gyu set both out clearly.
Some derive pansori from Chinese panchang, as a sound sung after a pan has been laid out, in modes changed under Chinese influence. The dominant view, however, finds the origin in the Korean traditional play pannoreum: from a performance that laid out a pan in a wide yard and showed tightrope walking, tumbling, dance, stick juggling, sound, and other arts together, sound alone was independently performed and came to be called pansori. The exact origin is unknown, but from Yu Jin-han’s Chunhyangga in the thirtieth year of King Yeongjo (1754), some guess it arose at least before Sukjong (reigned 1674–1720); others see gwangdae sohak jihui, a phrase in early Joseon sources, as a foundation; some even trace pannoreum back as far as Silla.
Begun by groups of gwangdae, pansori is completed by the active participation of singer and audience. One singer, to the rhythm of a gosu — the person who plays the drum — mixes sori (song), aniri (speech), and neoreumsae (gesture) in an oral performance, a kind of solo opera.
It expresses the feeling of a period, sets the joys and sorrows of life beside music with humor, and lets the audience take part; all five madang have been designated important intangible cultural heritage. It has depicted the lives of ordinary people with some realism, given voice to those who were ruled, and sometimes expressed hope for a new society; enjoyed across classes, it has also been judged to have served social adjustment and integration. It has an open character, taking what it needs from various traditional arts, and is seen as a national way of expression that pushed the possibilities of the Korean language as far as they would go.
Dongpyeonje is the sound transmitted east of the Seomjin River, in places such as Namwon, Sunchang, Gokseong, and Gurye, and takes as its standard the style of Song Heung-rok of Unbong, who was called a king of song. It emphasizes ujo, a vigorous melody, restrains feeling as far as possible, and uses daemadi daejangdan without showing off technique; the voice uses tongseong, sternly, and phrase endings are cut off firmly.
Seopyeonje is the sound transmitted west of the Seomjin, in places such as Gwangju, Naju, Damyang, Hwasun, and Boseong, and takes as its standard the style of Park Yu-jeon of Sunchang, who spent his last years in Boseong. The notes leave the schools at that naming of a standard, and do not invent the rest of the Seopyeonje manner, or follow a later turn to sijo or to a film. The same Korean report, written more fully, sits on CampusDown.
Last updated: 15 November 2026
Pansori, they write, is a compound of pan and sori. Pan is a noun meaning the place or scene where something happens, or a place where many people gather; sori is taken as a human voice, or a song. Discussion of the origin, they say, splits in two, and the columnist Kim Sang-gyu set both out clearly: some derive pansori from Chinese panchang, as a sound sung after a pan has been laid out, in modes changed under Chinese influence; the dominant view, however, finds the origin in the Korean traditional play pannoreum. In that account, from a traditional pannoreum that laid out a pan in a wide yard and showed tightrope walking, tumbling, dance, stick juggling, sound, and other arts together, sound alone was independently performed and came to be called pansori. The exact origin is unknown, but from Yu Jin-han’s Chunhyangga in the thirtieth year of King Yeongjo (1754), some guess it arose at least before Sukjong (reigned 1674–1720); others see gwangdae sohak jihui, a phrase in early Joseon sources, as a foundation; some even trace pannoreum back as far as Silla.
Begun by groups of gwangdae, pansori is completed by the active participation of singer and audience. One singer, to the rhythm of a gosu — the person who plays the drum — mixes sori (song), aniri (speech), and neoreumsae (gesture) in an oral performance, a kind of solo opera. It expresses the feeling of a period, sets the joys and sorrows of life beside music with humor, and lets the audience take part; all five madang have been designated important intangible cultural heritage. It has depicted the lives of ordinary people with some realism, given voice to those who were ruled, and sometimes expressed hope for a new society and era; enjoyed across classes, it has also been judged to have served social adjustment and integration, as ruling and ruled adjusted their thoughts through the performance. It has an open character, taking what it needs from various traditional arts, and is seen as a national way of expression that pushed the possibilities of the Korean language as far as they would go.
Dongpyeonje is the sound transmitted east of the Seomjin River, in places such as Namwon, Sunchang, Gokseong, and Gurye, and takes as its standard the style of Song Heung-rok of Unbong, who was called a king of song. It emphasizes ujo, a vigorous melody, restrains feeling as far as possible, and uses daemadi daejangdan without showing off technique; the voice uses tongseong, sternly, and phrase endings are cut off firmly. Seopyeonje is the sound transmitted west of the Seomjin, in places such as Gwangju, Naju, Damyang, Hwasun, and Boseong, and takes as its standard the style of Park Yu-jeon of Sunchang, who spent his last years in Boseong. The notes stop at that naming of a standard. They do not, here, go on to invent the rest of the Seopyeonje manner, or follow a later recap that turns to sijo or to a film.
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