Product description
The sound that outlived a kingdom.
Born from the musical heritage of ancient Korea, Twelve Strings of Gaya tells the story of the gayageum—a twelve-stringed instrument whose music survived the disappearance of the kingdom that gave it life.
According to Korean historical tradition, King Gasil of Gaya commissioned the creation of the gayageum, while the musician Ureuk composed twelve melodies for its twelve strings. As Gaya declined, Ureuk carried its music into Silla, allowing the tradition to continue long after the kingdom itself had disappeared.
The artwork captures that passage of memory.
At its center, a woman sits in quiet concentration with the gayageum stretched across her lap. She represents no single historical figure, but the generations of musicians whose hands carried the instrument forward through time.
The composition gradually dissolves into watercolor, earth tones, and scattered pigment—symbolizing a kingdom fading into history—while the instrument remains vivid beneath the musician’s hands. At the opposite end, delicate golden lines extend beyond the strings, suggesting music continuing beyond its place of origin and into another generation.
The flowing fabric introduces movement around an otherwise quiet scene: music within the strings, poetry within the silence, and dance within the folds.
The gayageum becomes more than an instrument. It becomes a vessel for cultural memory—created in one world, carried through change, and preserved because someone continued to play.
Heritage does not survive by remaining untouched. It survives when someone chooses to carry it forward.
Product description
The sound that outlived a kingdom.
Born from the musical heritage of ancient Korea, Twelve Strings of Gaya tells the story of the gayageum—a twelve-stringed instrument whose music survived the disappearance of the kingdom that gave it life.
According to Korean historical tradition, King Gasil of Gaya commissioned the creation of the gayageum, while the musician Ureuk composed twelve melodies for its twelve strings. As Gaya declined, Ureuk carried its music into Silla, allowing the tradition to continue long after the kingdom itself had disappeared.
The artwork captures that passage of memory.
At its center, a woman sits in quiet concentration with the gayageum stretched across her lap. She represents no single historical figure, but the generations of musicians whose hands carried the instrument forward through time.
The composition gradually dissolves into watercolor, earth tones, and scattered pigment—symbolizing a kingdom fading into history—while the instrument remains vivid beneath the musician’s hands. At the opposite end, delicate golden lines extend beyond the strings, suggesting music continuing beyond its place of origin and into another generation.
The flowing fabric introduces movement around an otherwise quiet scene: music within the strings, poetry within the silence, and dance within the folds.
The gayageum becomes more than an instrument. It becomes a vessel for cultural memory—created in one world, carried through change, and preserved because someone continued to play.
Heritage does not survive by remaining untouched. It survives when someone chooses to carry it forward.