Masks

Reign

Every morning began with the tinny echo of his father’s hand held gong. The sound reverberated quite well in the hallway of the dormitory and his father’s repeated striking of the gong made it impossible to go back to sleep.

“Rise and shine!” he bellowed, his deep and strong voice overtaking the noise of the gong. The rows of rooms facing the courtyard where his father now stood became a hub of activity as students quickly rushed out of the rooms, half dressed and hair messily made into a top knot above their heads. 

Daesung had already been waiting in the courtyard, impeccably dressed in his performance clothes, a flashy hanbok made of green, yellow, red, and blue shimmery silk with white extended sleeves. Over his face he wore the red wooden mask of a laughing aristocrat, a character that is seen in almost every mask drama, no matter what the story. 

Although he was only eleven years old, Daesung has studied, and sometimes even performed as, almost all of the characters commonly seen in a mask drama. From wealthy aristocrats and princes to lowly peasants, thieves, and vigilantes, he has tried them all.

It wouldn’t be right for the son of the head teacher of the Kang Academy of Classical Arts to know less than the actual students after all, no matter the age.

Daesung’s father dropped the gong and waited for the last of his students to line up in front of him before giving Daesung and another student aide, an older boy by the name of Jung Jihoon, a slight nod. Jihoon, wearing a bright yellow hanbok with the plain brown mask of a prince, went down the line to adjust the wardrobe of the students before them. The students were wearing plain gray, cotton hanboks that indicated that they were the newest students to join their school so they were of the lowest seniority. Many of the students were young, most between the ages of five and nine, with a few of the oldest students in the group being around Daesung’s age. Jihoon was already seventeen and one of his father’s most talented students. He was also Daesung’s favorite senior, because he acted like a real older brother to Daesung and has been around for as long as Daesung could remember.

Both of them knew the drill: they walked down the row of students coming from opposite ends, slowly adjusting articles of clothing here or there or teaching the students how to tie their hair into a proper top bun. Daesung’s father cared a lot about appearances, even though they were only practicing the basics for that day. It must have been the performer in him wanting his students to project nothing less than the perfection he often demanded on stage. For a lot of these students, it was their first time dressing themselves in a proper way without the help of their mother and it was especially hard for them because they were so young. 

Daesung could see the fear and trepidation on their tired, young faces and he wished he could take his mask off for a moment if only to offer a comforting smile, but he knew his father forbade it during the first few lessons.

“Before we teach them art, we must teach them discipline,” his father has told him time and time again and though it wasn’t uncommon to see his father with such a serious expression on his face, Daesung couldn’t help but hold back the laugh at the thought of how his father actually acted outside of being a teacher: his horrid jokes and booming laughter were common place in his household and his mother had admonished him several times over being too immature to be a teacher.

Over the next several months and years, these new students will come to know the true character of his father, slowly but surely as they improved their craft. The more senior students were leading another group of new students in the next building and Daesung’s mother was undoubtedly starting class as well in the female dormitories. Daesung was staying in the male dormitories of the new students in order to help them get situated in their new environment. Although he loved being with the younger kids, he couldn’t wait to join his parents in the main manor again, which was much more comfortable (and more furnished) than the spartanesque student dorms.

After they finished helping the students to look neat and proper, Daesung and Jihoon fell back behind his father and stood quietly before the students, waiting for the next directions from his father.

“Today, you are embarking on your journey into the world of artistry,” his father declared in his strong and full voice. “It is a journey that will not be without its own trials and tribulations, so if you are looking for an easy path to follow, I would advise you to look for your future elsewhere.

Our school is one of the most renown schools of artistry within our great country. Eighty five percent of our students move on to be part of one of the many reputable theatre troupes found throughout the country. Ten percent go on to open their own schools or start their own troupe, and the lucky five percent will find themselves amongst the esteemed performers of the royal palace.”

A few students gasped at this and others displayed an ambitious glint in their eyes. Daesung made note of those students. Those will be the students that will either work hard to fulfill their passion or cause trouble for other students as they become too determined to fulfill their ambitions.

“You will work hard and some of you will not make it. It’s not uncommon for students to quit once they get a taste of how difficult the training can be. But your perseverance and hard work will be rewarded. One day, it will be you up on those stages and it will be you carrying the honor and prestige of our school upon your shoulders.”

At this, the students eyes fell upon Daesung and Jihoon who have remained still and at ready behind Daesung’s father throughout the entirety of the little speech. The students looked at them with a mixture of awe and envy. Daesung, being used to the attention, focused on putting names to faces. He spent most of the day before reading the names off of the paper registry and watching the students move in to their quarters after saying goodbyes to their families.

“From this day onwards, you will cast aside your past self as you begin to build the foundation of your future. Even though the task sounds daunting, remember that you are not alone.” At this part of the speech, the tone of his father’s voice become warm and gentle, more like the usual tone he often used with Daesung or his mother. “You will be under my tutelage and you will have the help of your peers and experienced seniors as well that will help you on your path to success. Most of all, you must not forget that your families, many of whom I know have made great sacrifices in order for you to attend this famous school, are supporting you with all of their hearts. They, like I, only wish that you will succeed and find happiness from this path that you have chosen for yourself.

I hope that with time, you will think of this school as a second home and your peers as your family. From here on out, you are now students of the Kang Academy of Classical Arts.”

Daesung naturally started a small round of applause and once the sound of clapping faded, his father turned to him and Jihoon.

“Let us now watch a short performance from two of our senior students,” his father announced. Daesung faced Jihoon and prepared his mind and body to tell the story of Joon, the dimwitted aristocrat and the trouble he causes as an unofficial advisor to the crowned prince. It was a comedy told through dance, song, and theatric narration, a story Daesung has performed countless times before, both as the aristocrat and the prince.

The students watched in rapt attention as the two of them dragged forward a small wooden stage that they often used in practice for the newer students. They each tried to put their minds into the right state necessary for them to perform for any performance on any stage, big or small, deserved no less than one hundred percent of their effort, as Daesung’s father always said.

With a dramatic flick of his long sleeves, Daesung pulled back his head and let out a theatrical laugh into the heavens, his body and mind easily slipping into a character that was all too familiar to him by now. He stepped onto the platform of the makeshift stage and with the nod of approval from his father, the performance began.

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