Goodbye Maestro Kim Min-gi

“One of the greatest poets and musicians of our time, a humble dissident, the forever young and artistic noble and hero” were some of the descriptions people used to pay homage to the late Kim Min-gi, who left us last Sunday. His passing leaves us to brood on the meaning of the lyrics of his iconic song “Morning Dew,” which reads “Leaving all the sadness behind, here I go now.”

His life and music had given comfort and courage to all walks of life. Kim was an iconic figure in the dissident movement. But his songs fundamentally had been inspired by his love of humanity that didn’t separate between the right and left. “An Old Soldier’s Song” written during his military service was sung by both the special forces and armed civilians during the Gwangju Democracy Movement in 1980.

His songs reflected the woes of the time, but with a hopeful message. “Long and hard our road may be, we’ll keep on and prevail in the end.” The song “Evergreen” was written for the occasion of a mass wedding for factory workers in the 1970s when Kim also was working as one. The song became a national anthem for Koreans in 1998 as they endured mass layoffs and hard times in the wake of the near default crisis and international bailout. His song proved the transcending power of art.

“Hakchon,” a small theater he founded in 1991 in Daehakro, Seoul, became a stage to debut and train young actors and actresses as well as experimental singers and indie performers who later ascended to stardom. Actors like Sul Kyung-gu, Hwang Jung-min, Cho Seung-woo and jazz vocalist Nah Youn-sun pride themselves for coming from the Hakchon school.

Kim was happy to remain behind the scenes. He has never preached on fairness and equality. Instead, he lived it. Before directing the theater’s first musical “Subway Line 1,” he selected all the roles through auditions instead of relying on star marketing that had been in fashion in the theater industry. He distributed all the ticket revenues equally among the staff.

During his later years, his theater was devoted to children and teenagers. He felt sorry for kids who didn’t have any culture to enjoy apart from their schools and private academies except for computer games, and staged musicals for kids regardless of the size of the audience. He couldn’t see through his dream of creating children’s performances, as Hakchon had to shutter in March after wrestling with financial difficulties. It should be our society’s duty to keep up his legacy in repayment for the relief and courage he had given us through his music and spirit. May he rest in peace.