BTS. Parasite. Squid Game. Over the past decade, Korean popular culture has gained global prominence—through music, film, and television. Beyond these headline-grabbing successes lies a broader, visually rich cultural landscape that includes historical epics, urban food culture, feminist literature, and the vibrant world of comics (manhwa). 

A major turning point in the global visibility of Korean culture came with the 1988 Seoul Olympics. More than a sporting event, the Olympics reshaped the capital city—bringing new infrastructure, modern stadiums, and cultural facilities, all designed to present South Korea as a forward-looking nation. At the same time, traditions seen as controversial abroad, such as the consumption of dog meat, were temporarily suspended. The cheerful tiger mascot Hodori became a symbol of national identity reaching out to the world as a traditional emblem of strength, courage, and national pride in Korean folklore and art. For many Koreans, especially the younger generation, the event represented a moment of possibility and global engagement. 

Today, Korean popular culture has developed into a dynamic field that reflects the complexity of modern Korean society often not shy of challenging nationalist narratives. 

Recurring themes surface across its various forms: 

History and national identity are central to period dramas (sageuk) and historically inspired films, which often reinterpret Korea’s dynastic past with emotional intensity, fashionable, glamorous and highly romantic set pieces but also, as in the case of for example Kingdom, incisive social commentary. Together historical narratives have helped turn Seoul’s cultural heritage sites into popular tourist destinations.    

Class divides and social inequality are explored in global successes like Squid Game and Parasite, which captures the layered geography of Seoul and the barriers between wealth and poverty. Also, street life and everyday spaces, such as the pojangmacha (tent bars), recur as settings for both emotional release and social observation—spaces where the private and public blend. As in the domestic success Reply 1988 which unfolded a story of the near past around a lower middle-class neighborhood in Seoul.    

Gender and relationships are also recurring themes across media and genres. Idealized romance remains a staple of dramas and variety shows and is globally appreciated for its soft, family-oriented, yet playful couple portrayals as in Crash Landing on You.  Yet, contemporary literature and independent cinema offer more critical perspectives on relationships, social pressure, and gender roles. A strong feminist current runs through much of today’s Korean writing, with authors like Han Kang, known for The Vegetarian (채식주의자), and Cho Nam-joo, whose Kim Jiyoung, Born 1982 (82년생 김지영) became a cultural milestone, confronting patriarchy, inequality, and the emotional toll of societal expectations. 

Meanwhile, K-pop has emerged as a cultural force with global reach. Seamlessly blending Korean language, fashion, and choreography with international music genres, it builds a highly curated visual universe centered around talents and idols. Long before the international K-pop boom, artists like Kim Gun-mo and Seo Taiji were already transforming Korea’s sonic and cultural landscape—mixing Western styles with local sensibilities to speak to a new urban generation. 

Visual storytelling has also played a vital role in Korean culture. The early 2000s rise of webtoons introduced new ways of blending personal reflection with social observation—often with a grounded, everyday realism. This ethnographic quality is brought into the present project by Korean Jeon Nakjoo with a background in webtoons, whose work bridges popular aesthetics and lived experience. 

Alongside, the webpage includes two Danish illustrators: Thit Bitsch, an independent artist with a distinctive visual style centered around diary, the other, Rasmus Meisler, a documentary illustrator experienced in reporting through images for newspapers and magazines. Together, these three illustrators offer diverse perspectives on Korean popular culture—merging ethnographic attention, artistic interpretation, and documentary observation. 

Image 1 – Pojangmacha: late-night comfort under plastic tarps 

A glowing orange pojangmacha stands quietly in the evening—a familiar sight across Korean urban spaces. These small, tented street bars serve simple food and drinks deep into the night, offering comfort to a wide spectrum of customers: tired office workers grabbing a late snack, friends winding down, or couples on a casual date. 

Often no bigger than a few tables, pojangmacha evoke nostalgia and intimacy, despite their cramped surroundings. Popular dramas like Reply 1988 have featured them as beloved neighborhood hangouts—spaces where big life decisions, romantic confessions, and heartfelt friendships unfold over steaming plates and soju. At the same time, pojangmacha have also gained a reputation for being noisy, unregulated, and occasionally questioned for hygiene—especially in major cities trying to modernize their image. 

The food is part of their charm: spicy tteokbokki (rice cakes), odeng (fish cakes in broth), grilled skewers, and hot bowls of ramyeon are among the favorites. Unfussy, affordable, and wrapped in plastic walls against the cold, pojangmacha remain a cherished part of Korea’s urban nightscape—a place where the boundaries between public and private life quietly blur.

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