Dave McNally Photography

Story, pho­tos by Dave McNally

Hun­dreds of Kore­ans stand in regal col­ors to cel­e­brate an ancient rite on grounds once tra­versed only by kings, queens and aris­to­crats. Each year in May, the Jongmyo Royal Ances­tral Rite is a val­ued tra­di­tion in mod­ern Korea.

Thou­sands of every­day Kore­ans gather to watch an elab­o­rate memo­r­ial ser­vice offered to royal ancestors.

Cana­dian pho­tog­ra­pher Derek Win­ches­ter lives and works in Suwon. He shoots Korean cul­tural events as a hobby. Win­ches­ter said there was some­thing dif­fer­ent about this one.

“I feel like it was more real, like some­thing that has been done every year con­tin­u­ously and not some­thing read in a book, then recre­ated,” he said.

Descen­dants from the Jeonju branch of the Lee fam­ily per­form the memo­r­ial annu­ally on the first Sun­day of May. The cer­e­mony hon­ors the family’s royal ancestors.

The Lee fam­ily once ruled the entire Korean penin­sula. From the dynasty’s found­ing in 1392, to its sun­set in 1910, the Joseon roy­als set in motion a cul­ture and tra­di­tion that stands to this day.

“I think tra­di­tions are some­thing that are cher­ished in most cul­tures, and one thing that is really lack­ing in the west,” Win­ches­ter said. “Tra­di­tions re-enforce a feel­ing of iden­tity in my opin­ion. It also defines what the val­ues of a par­tic­u­lar cul­ture are.”

The rite con­sists of three parts. Par­tic­i­pants usher in the spir­its of the dead, enter­tain them and send them off.

Dur­ing the cer­e­mony, the spir­its are offered wine. Lee fam­ily mem­bers burn incense, and offer the spir­its gifts. Red-robed musi­cians play tra­di­tional instru­ments, while women in pur­ple cos­tumes dance in synchronicity.

The Jongmyo Shrine in cen­tral Seoul is home to the 49 “spirit tablets” of the Joseon Dynasty kings and queens. The shrine has been site of this cer­e­mony for more than 600 years.

Although the Japan­ese banned the prac­tice dur­ing the 1910–1945 occu­pa­tion, and the early Repub­lic of Korea gov­ern­ment also nixed the cer­e­mony, an his­tor­i­cal preser­va­tion team called for the rite’s return in 1969. By 1975, the Korean gov­ern­ment fully backed the cer­e­mony by nam­ing it “Impor­tant Intan­gi­ble Cul­tural Prop­erty No. 56.”

Near the end of the cer­e­mony, par­tic­i­pants bow to the spirit tablets and offer solemn respect. Writ­ten prayer papers are burned in a kiln. Soon, the cer­e­mony is over and the musi­cians and dancers depart.

“It is sig­nif­i­cant for Kore­ans because it takes up an essen­tial part of Korean tra­di­tional cul­ture,” Korean Pres­i­dent Lee Myung-bak wrote in con­grat­u­la­tory writ­ten remarks on the open­ing of the rit­ual when he was the Seoul mayor. “We have placed spe­cial empha­sis on strik­ing a right bal­ance of mod­ern and tra­di­tional aspects in this vibrant city.”

Lee said tra­di­tions make Seoul a unique city in its own right.

“I hope this reen­act­ment will again remind us of how impor­tant and valu­able our tra­di­tional cul­ture is,” he said.

Through­out the year, reen­act­ments occur at Korean cul­tural sites, such as Gyeong­bok Palace and Doksu Palace. For infor­ma­tion, visit the offi­cial Korean Tourism Site.