In Korean dance, every movement, down to the fingertips, originates in the core of the body, an extension of the breath. This is called trunk dancing, as opposed to Indian or Southeast Asian styles of dance, whose isolated movements are known as branch and stem dancing.
I learned this idea years ago from Dong-Won Kim, a member of Yo-Yo Ma’s Silk Road Ensemble. It comes to mind today, on my birthday, as I go with my family — wife, daughter, mother-in-law — to see Ma perform the complete Bach solo cello suites in Seoul. We do things together now, our movements swaying from the common core that is our family.
The roots
A year ago on my birthday, I wrote that it should be a year of putting down roots in Korea. A week ago, my new family moved in with me. And on Friday I’ll take my wife and daughter to America to meet my parents and siblings and all the kids. (Also to go to Disneyland, because Disneyland!)
Now that the roots are in and deepening, this can be the year of strengthening the trunk, of growing upward and outward together, of learning to sway in tandem. This is our new dance.
In practical terms, that means finishing all the little things still to be done in the apartment — organizing, hanging the pictures — and finding our new patterns together. These days, my daughter is learning to sleep by herself in her own bed instead of with her grandma, which means my mother-in-law can sleep on her own, in her room. I’m learning what all the stuff is in the back of the fridge, and how to cook again, this time for four. We’re drinking egg creams together.
It also means having our wedding, which comes in a couple of months. We’ll celebrate our new marriage, and our new family, with the people in our lives. From the roots, we will blossom outward.
Wind
Tonight’s concert was supposed to be outdoors, in the park, but Typhoon Lingling made other plans, and the performance was moved indoors. The storm passed yesterday afternoon, scattering leaves, but we watched the trees in our neighborhood dance and sway and hold strong.
This is the dance I’m learning. This is the family we’re creating. Winds will come, and we will dance in them. In this year of my life, that’s what I want to do. I want to delight in the dance.
And tonight, that means enjoying Bach’s sarabandes and courantes and gigues and allemandes. This will be my daughter’s first classical concert. I hope her concentration holds. And if it doesn’t, we can always leave early. The movement will come from the core. The trunk will drive the dance.