Devastating news arrived in the middle of the night in China on March 29, 2023, during the second Chinese Music Ethnographic Films Symposium. It was with a heavy heart that I learned of the untimely passing of Terada Yoshitaka, a highly respected scholar in audiovisual ethnomusicology. His passing was especially difficult to bear given his close relationship with the China Music Ethnographic Film Festival (CMEFF), and the fact that he was far too young to be taken from us so soon. Although this is a film review, I cannot help but express my profound sadness and dedicate this review to the memory of Terada Yoshitaka, an esteemed ethnomusicologist.

As curator for the first CMEFF, I was responsible for overseeing various aspects of the festival. This included coordinating with Professor Yoshitaka, who was invited to be a jury member and had his film Crossing over the Arirang Pass: Zainichi Korean Music screened at the Shanghai Grand Theatre. As the film was meant for local audiences, we decided to add subtitles in Chinese for our audience. The translation process was not easy, especially with Japanese and Korean languages, as they share Chinese characters (kanji), but often with slightly different meanings. Moreover, we had to be extra cautious with the translations due to the sensitive political factors involved. Throughout the process, we frequently communicated to ensure accurate details, for instance, we had to consider whether to translate zainichi from Korean into either chosun people in Japanese (在日朝鲜人) or “Koreans in Japan” (在日韩国人). I admired his serious and careful approach to his work, which made our brief time together very productive. The buzz that the film generated in Shanghai was a testament to his dedication.

The beginning of the movie showcases a captivating performance of Arirang, the Korean folk song style, featuring three talented singers each with their own unique style. The uri-mal (lit., “our language”) from three versions of Arirang beautifully highlights the diverse regional variations of this timeless singing style across the Korean Peninsula. It truly was a pleasure for the audience to witness these unique differences and appreciate their significance.

The filming style may be simple, but the impact of its message and connotation are truly powerful and emotional. It showcases a live concert of zainichi Korean musicians at the Japan Folklore Museum in June 2014, along with insightful behind-the-scenes interviews with main characters involved in the concert. By the seventh chapter, the film delves deep into the struggles of the second- and third-generation zainichi Korean musicians, their academic and artistic experiences, various perspectives on Korean music in different types and regional styles, and how they navigate their search for identity and belonging through music in Japan. It also provides glimpses into their daily life and historical archives of their performances and learning. There is one particular scene in which the singer Song Myonghua and chulgang performer, Haa Yeongsu, from the Kumgangsan Opera Troupe deliver a stunning rendition of the Japanese folk song “Red Dragonfly” and “Arirang,” portraying the identity of zainichi Koreans in a beautiful and inspiring way. Other reviews of this film offer more information about the content, but I wouldn’t want to give away too much here.

This film goes beyond its portrayal on screen and holds great value. It is not just an observational documentary from a scholar’s perspective but also a participatory activity involving scholars, NGOs, and cultural holders. On the after-talk of this film screening in Shanghai, Professor Yoshitaka recounted the challenges faced during the concert, as it brought together music styles from Democratic People’s Republic of Korea, Republic of Korea, and zainichi Korean musicians who played them. The performance was met with resistance; there was even a demonstration outside the venue to boycott the event and threaten the performers. Despite this, those who witnessed the concert felt a sense of unity on the stage, akin to a song from the concert Hana featured in the film: The song reflects the deep affection shared by zainichi Koreans for their origins in the Korean peninsula and their hometowns in Japan. The events depicted in the film may seem like an ordinary concert—but the film holds great historical significance. “Making a film is not an end,” Professor Yoshitaka used to say, “it’s about being able to interact with the wider society after the film is shown.” This is also one of the goals that ethnomusicological films should achieve so that culture can be made more sustainable. In this film, whether traditional music, popular music, or contemporary works, all these are celebrated as special cultural expressions. No form of music is considered superior or inferior to another. The memory that stands out to me is when the singer Lee Jeongmi, a lead character in the film, discussed how she transformed her approach to music. She shared that she once used music as a powerful political tool, but eventually came to see music as a way of life through dedicated practice and commitment. Her musical journey is a reminder of the potential for growth and transformation in all aspects of life. By experiencing along with people in the film, we are granted a deeper understanding of the fundamental nature of human musicality.

It is never easy to see people suffer, whether due to natural disasters, political persecution, or even their own innate personality. But in times like these, music can be a beacon of hope, shining a light in even the darkest corners of the universe. The core of music is to build up the Tower of Babel and bring more goodwill and understanding between people, which is also the ideal inherited by ethnomusicologists. Professor Yoshitaka’s film reinforces this point.