Space is interconnected, sometimes secretly and sometimes openly. This is where Koreans have lived, where their age-old wisdom is hidden, and their sense of beauty still lives on. Hanok The space where nature and man have coexisted in harmony over centuries. Here is a hanok tucked into one corner of a small village at the Hangang River's upstream area near Seoul.
Hello, welcome. This tiny hanok is so well maintained that it's hard to believe it's already 350 years old. It has been home to 14 generations of this family.
This room is too small. This is the other room. My husband was born here.
This is my mother-in-law's new room. I'm working here for a while. Some window panes have been replaced with glass, and the kitchen has been remodeled for convenience.
But the house still retains many fundamental features of Hanok. She takes off the doors called changho and carries them to the backyard. Today the homeowners are going to repair the holes in the paper panes. The weather has turned cool enough to do this chore that they've been putting off. It's the husband's job to take care of simple repair and maintenance.
Korea's traditional paper hanji, made of mulberry pulp, is thick and durable, which is why it's been used to cover hanok windows and doors. The window is cut off, and the window frame is connected. The air circulation is good.
There is a slight wind from the Hanok. But it's not because the temperature is high that it's good for your health. It's because it's ondol culture.
It's warm on the bottom and cool on the top. It's good for your health. The ondol heating system, which warms up the floor with the heat generated from the furnace, is one of the reasons Henok is so popular. It's like a hot steamer. It's warm and nice.
The couple's teenage son also loves living in a hanok. I moved to an apartment when I was in grade school. I had a lot of atopic dermatitis for six months. The family moved to an apartment at the request of their son, who had envied his friends living in apartments. But he developed an itchy and swollen skin reaction while living there.
I was surprised. I didn't know it was atopy at first. I thought I was having a stomachache because I ate something wrong.
But I was having it every night. Just on a hunch, they moved back to Hanok, and, like magic, the skin trouble disappeared. I was living here, and atopy disappeared. I'm healthy now and I don't have any atopy.
I think I have atopy because I'm in Hanok. It's a black wall made of clay, and it's a tree. The air is good, and everything is natural, so the air is clear. So I think I have atopy. I'm happy to be able to live in Hanok.
Is the son right in believing that the life in Hanok made his family healthier and happier? A Hanok village located in Hamyang, Gyeongsangnam-do province. This ancient house standing in the middle of the village is the birthplace of an esteemed 15th century Chosin era scholar. Since it was rebuilt by the descendants, the old home has been maintained so well that it was designated a cultural property by the government, as an example of elegant classic hanok.
The hanok also draws a steady stream of tourists. who hope to be inspired by the legacy of a noble family and ancient Korean wisdom embodied in traditional hanok. I think it's a good place because it's a natural habitat.
It's a place where you can really breathe. It's like a hometown. It's very comfortable and nice. The house is made with the ingredients we get from nature, which is a characteristic of this place. So it's good for our health.
Everyone agrees that the strongest merit of Hanok is its eco-friendly and health-promoting features. All the materials for Hanok come from nature. Rocks are used to build the foundation, and wooden beams and pillars for the framework are pieced together without using a single nail.
The roof is covered with clay tiles, and the floor and walls are also finished with clay. Red clay is used to fill the ceilings, floors and walls because it has an exceptional humidity regulating capability. The porous structure of red clay works as a sponge to absorb moisture. In contrast, concrete has a smooth surface.
The fine pores of red clay serve as a humidity regulator and air ducts, making Hanok a house that breathes. Another feature that makes Hanok a healthy and well-circulated house is its doors and windows. Changho, a blanket term for openings to a room, functions both as a door allowing passage and as a window to look out. The eldest male of the family's 18th generation descendants and owner of this ancient home is still amazed by the Hanok Changho's beauty and practicality.
In the summer, the wind is blowing well, and in the winter, the temperature is relatively good. Because the wind is blowing, it is a kind of breathable paper. It is different from glass windows.
Changho is comprised of wooden lattice and Korean traditional paper, hanji. The hanji fibers are tightly interwoven. but the fine gaps among the fibers allow air from both sides of the hengi to pass through freely. That means a room can be properly ventilated without opening the door or a window to let the air in and out. Changho is also very unique function-wise.
Some doors and windows in Hanok can be lifted. A barrier separating inside and outside is removed, and two areas are merged into one. This unique opening method plays up Hanok's prominent characteristic of openness. It also allows a romantic view of outdoor landscape framed by a Changho. In spring, flowers are good.
In summer, greenery is good. In autumn, there are also maple trees. Maple trees are good. In winter, white snow is piled up here. When I see it, it's very...
That's when I think... My personal opinion is that winter is the best. Air flows in and out while light rests. That's how Hanok breathes.
Modernization and urbanization have changed human housing and lifestyle. Concrete, steel and glass have become the main building materials shaping our living space. However, there is one particular hanok feature that even modern Koreans who seek convenience above all else want to adopt.
It's ondo, the world's only floor heating system. Ondol installation is in full swing at this Buddhist temple. The temple's chief monk believes that the heart of hanok is ondo.
My husband is very sick. He's been in the hospital for about four months. I think he'll recover quickly because he'll be able to get treatment in a good room when he's born. Workers make gore or airways with red clay bricks to channel hot air.
The layout of airways differs depending on the ondul maker, but the underlying principle is all the same. A furnace is fired up and the hot air flows through the gore, connected to the furnace, to heat up the rock tiles under the floor. Ondol Master Ahn Jin-geun has been building ondol for 37 years. A hole dug into the Goryeo floor is one of many different ways to boost heat efficiency.
A red clay pot is buried in the hole to prevent dew condensation that occurs when the chill from the ground comes in contact with the furnace heat. Hangari jjogul mudodonan jjogul ho hae gajigul, guh, subunduri tak guh jjogul da ppajiduraguyo. Guh hangari ga seopdo jojul, geu dalme subun jaegulul chungbunage jjogul.
Then the workers start pouring salt along the gore. Salt plays a very important role. When high heat energy comes in, they have a heat shrink function.
When you put a 3cm thick layer, it melts by 1 third. It forms a coating film that prevents the cold from rising from the bottom. So, here again, the high heat cools down and the humidity is created. The salt controls the humidity.
Now comes the placing of ondul tiles which will retain the heat. The tiles near the furnace are basalt, while those near the corners are granite. Master Anjin-gun who has been watching in and supervising the work process, suddenly picks up a tool himself and starts working. The placing of the tiles at four corners is so difficult and crucial that even an experienced Andal installer needs to be instructed by the master. Now it's time to check for flaws by firing up the furnace.
Smoke should come out of an improvised chimney. It's a tense moment for everyone there, especially for the Andol master who's getting ready to light up the furnace. Now, I'll put the fire on the fire.
The fire is going in. The heat from the furnace circulates through the gore. Moments later, smoke comes out of the air duct. The following day.
The work is resumed after the rain stops. Red clay and gravel are layered in and cypress leaves are strewn over the area before the floor is finished up with red clay plaster. The wood is the heart and life of hanok.
The morning after we sleep in the wood room is very refreshing. Other types of heating, such as coil heating or hot water heating, Red clay and other mineral matters emit far infrared rays when heated. No wonder spending a night in a heated ondol room refreshes a person.
Over the past 300 years this ancient house has borne witness to the lives of many generations. This hanok is a fine example of playing up Korea's four distinct seasons and using science to overcome climatic disadvantages, such as a nearly 50 degree difference in temperature between summer and winter. Ondol is a heating system invented to withstand the Korean peninsula's long and harsh winter, brought on by the Siberian air mass. In contrast, wooden floors without ondol underneath are for the hot and humid summer. In summer, cool breezes from the backyard sweep into the open living room to cool down the heat.
This is the inside yard. The yard is square shaped. The elders used to plant grass and trees in the yard. They built a garden like this. In the summer, If the sun is too strong, the hot air will go up to the sky.
The cool wind will be able to communicate with the wind. If you plant trees, the wind will not work. A natural fan was created by making use of the principle of air circulation, which involves, in this hanok, a small opening behind the spacious living area and the bare exposed yarn.
Here is a place where we can sit and watch the sky. It is a very interesting and scientific space compared to other places. Here is another spot where the science of wind flow was put into use intelligently. If you look here, it's narrow over there, and the floor is wide here.
So here we have five teeth, and there are two teeth. If you measure it roughly, one, two, three. The corridor between this hammock's inner quarters and the storage area is shaped like a long trapezoid, with a narrow end on the north side and a wider opening to the south.
It wasn't a mistake, but an intentional arrangement. In winter, wind blows into the yard from the mountain at the rear of the house. As the wind enters the widening corridor, it loses speed and eventually dies down.
Summer wind blows in the opposite direction, so the wind passing through the narrowing passage becomes faster and cooler. The cooler wind then rushes into the main bedroom in the back. Hanok appears enclosed yet open. By making such airways throughout the house, Koreans are able to live in a pleasant and healthful environment all year long.
When I take a nap in the summer, I can feel why I should sleep here. I live with nature. Korean ancestors had the wisdom to utilize the two incompatible elements of wood and fire and incorporate the principles of wind and sunlight into construction.
This is why Hanok is a scientific and healthful dwelling. During the rapid urbanization and modernization process, Koreans came to think of Hanok as an outdated tradition. But recently, Korean people's perception of Hanok has begun to change, and now Hanok is accepted as a dwelling embracing Korean culture and wisdom. A modest hanok sits snug amid modern concrete buildings.
This house is proof of the homeowner's foresight in recognizing the value of Hanok ahead of others. The owner of this Hanok is American-born Peter Bartholomew. He fell in love with Hanok when he first came to Korea as a Peace Corps volunteer at the age of 25. It's like heaven.
There are so many beautiful and important buildings everywhere. So, should I say it bluntly? I was blown away. I was completely blown away. He has lived in this hanok in downtown Seoul, which he purchased back then.
After living in a hanok for more than 40 years, Peter believes that hanok is a sensible house built for humans. It's strange, the hanok. It doesn't burn in the summer. Why is that?
On the roof, the mud... It's about 3, 4, 50 centimeters deep. There is no more temperature, temperature, or coldness than that.
It can't go up to the current temperature. Hanok devotee Peter Bartholomew counts Ondol as the biggest merit of Hanok. The firewood is absorbed into the rocks and the mud.
Once you have 4 or 5 pieces of firewood, it's warm for almost 30 hours. If I get a lot of flu, I burn the firewood, put the blanket on, and sleep here. Home is not just a place to eat and sleep, but a place shaped by life's significant moments. That is why Peter Bartholomew's life in a hanok is very satisfying. To him, Hanok is a place of healing, a place that brings spiritual peace and physical well-being.
Houses where Koreans have lived and will continue to live. These ancient yet innovative residences encapsulate Korea's nature and culture and reflect Korean lifestyle. Hanok still lives and breathes as a dwelling for humankind.