[비즈한국] In 1907, an unprecedented organization appeared in Jongno. The term "entertainment industry," which we use so commonly today, originated here with the establishment of the "Yeonye-Danseongsa." The purpose of the Yeonye-Danseongsa was to provide stage spaces for performers and use the resulting proceeds for social projects. It was primarily used to help the underprivileged, such as orphans. That performance space was the famous Danseongsa. While we remember Danseongsa as a movie theater, it was originally a performance venue for entertainers. These entertainers were gisaeng—women who were disparagingly referred to as such at the time.
Although gisaeng had low social status in traditional society, they were able to work freely after the Gabo Reform of 1894 abolished the class system. However, as it was difficult to make a living solely through artistic activities, places like the "Yeonye-Danseongsa" were necessary. Despite being looked down upon as gisaeng regardless of their superior skills, they received much love from fans through their own artistic performances, including plays, dance, songs, comedy, and music at Danseongsa. These individuals are today's actors, singers, choreographers, comedians, and musicians. Back then, gisaeng formed "gisaeng guilds" to conduct their activities. For example, guilds were organized based on region, like the Dadong or Gwanggyo gisaeng guilds, or based on marital status, like those for married or unmarried gisaeng. The "Yeonye-Danseongsa" recruited these talented gisaeng from these guilds.
However, as the media environment for art changed, the tradition of these guilds disappeared. As evidenced by Danseongsa's transformation into a permanent movie theater and its subsequent rise in influence, the power of mass media began to overshadow live performance stages. With the arrival of radio and later television, performers became increasingly marginalized. Consequently, the power of film studios, record labels, and broadcasting companies grew significantly. Thus, the tradition of organizations that protect the rights and interests of artists, like the gisaeng guilds, faded away. Even if associations for singers or actors exist, they have become toothless because the influence of mass media corporations has grown so dominant.
After the 1990s, the power shifted from record labels like Daesung Gihoeck to talent management agencies. Now, these agencies produce not only the singers themselves but also the albums, music, and music videos through their own in-house labels. The decisive catalyst for this was SM Entertainment041510. As the idol music market expanded and became industrialized, the influence of individual singers diminished; in particular, idol group members were unable to even join singers' associations. As the rapid progress of the Hallyu phenomenon far surpassed the power of broadcasting, individual members found it easier to simply follow their agency's roadmap. In such a situation, as the late SHINee member Jonghyun once mentioned, idols became "parts on a conveyor belt," used for profit before being replaced.
However, when they faced unfair treatment at their agencies, they had to find their own solutions. If they raised objections to unfair treatment or sought other paths, like Fifty Fifty or NewJeans, they were immediately trapped in a frame of "betrayal" or "tampering." In reality, it is impossible for individual members to leave their agency and pursue independent activities in Korea. There are no successful cases.
When people refer to the "music industry," it generally refers to groups representing agencies, management companies, and production houses. When there is talk of the industry's response or movement, it means the reaction of these entities. These organizations have consistently united and collaborated to sway the media whenever issues arise. In response, artists are left struggling to fend for themselves. For idol members, their parents are their only base of support. Fans often look away when problems arise. Furthermore, as the age of idol members continues to drop, there should be relevant organizations to protect them as minors, yet they remain in a blind spot. Civic groups also show little interest in such problems. In these circumstances, the number of idols taking their own lives has increased. Historically speaking, human rights in culture and the arts have regressed.
In fact, Korea lacks even a minimal organization like the "Yeonye-Danseongsa" to protect artists' rights, represent them, and explore career paths. Priorities are focused solely on representing corporations from an industrial perspective. This trend is only intensifying, especially as even the state emphasizes the export of the cultural industry. Recently, when choreographers demanded copyright protection, relevant organizations only emphasized the logic of management and industry, remaining nearly indifferent to how the choreographers' claims could be reflected.
In developed countries, artists are protected as workers. In Korea, even this is not the case. Just recently, NewJeans members asserted their "worker status," but it was not accepted. People often associate labor unions with socialism or communism, but the United States—the home of the free-market economy—has a strong labor union culture. Singers also join labor unions to conduct their activities. Through these unions, they protect and advocate for interests that individuals cannot defend on their own, and they successfully see them through.
A prime example in the U.S. is SAG-AFTRA (Screen Actors Guild-American Federation of Television and Radio Artists). Their activities drew attention in April 2024 as well. They demanded and reached final agreements with major labels like Warner Music Group and Sony Music regarding minimum wage increases and prerequisites for AI usage. In particular, the agreement concerning generative AI, which easily replicates a singer's voice, was notable. It stipulated that if a singer's voice is replicated by AI, the singer's consent and compensation are required, and further specified that when the terms "singer" or "artist" are used, they must refer to a human being.
These agreements are significant because they not only benefit individual artists but also allow people worldwide, beyond just their own citizens, to enjoy better culture and art. It is time for an organization to emerge in Korea that comprehensively represents the human rights and interests of artists. Actors, singers, choreographers, and idol members are currently so fragmented that their human rights and interests—not to mention their very lives—are threatened. I hope that in 2025, an integrated organization for artists will be launched.
The author, Kim Heon-sik, has walked through or hacked through the forest of popular cultural phenomena since his 20s, fueled by the expectation that there is a way to make the world a better place through culture. In the 21st century, where AI and quantum computers are at play, he continues to follow that same path with the same belief.