Narrator: Making hapjukseon,
a type of traditional Korean fan,
starts with bamboo.
And artisans have to split the bamboo
and thin it down again and again
until it's carved down to three-tenths of a millimeter.
When those thin strips get glued together and bound,
that's when the fan becomes incredibly strong,
making it one of the most durable fans ever.
Kim Dong-sik uses a 350-year-old technique today,
passed down through his family,
to make Korean fans
that were historically reserved for royalty.
Narrator: It takes four to five eight- to 10-hour days
to make just one fan.
The first step is softening the bamboo
by boiling it and leaving it out to dry
for up to two weeks
before the bamboo reaches Kim's workshop.
This is when the splitting begins.
Dry bamboo would break easily,
so the strips are softened a second time in boiling water.
Wearing thimbles that protect his fingers,
Kim pulls out the strips from the hot water.
Then he carves out the bamboo interior with custom knives
that a blacksmith made to fit his hands exactly.
He strips it down further,
so it's thin enough to be see-through.
Narrator: Kim shaves the edges of the thin bamboo strips
and uses the traditional material isinglass as glue.
Isinglass is a gelatin made from a fish's bladder.
Gluing these outer strips together
is what makes hapjukseon one of the strongest fans,
as others are not reinforced this way.
Narrator: The reinforcement creates a long-lasting frame.
So while the paper part of hapjukseon
may need to be replaced, the frame will endure.
He wraps the pieces together,
making sure it's as tightly bound as possible,
and lets it dry for at least half a day.
While that dries, he prepares the wooden part
of the frame handle using a hammer.
Then he whittles down a piece of bamboo into a screw
to connect the ribs of the fan.
This traditional method has since been replaced
by using metal.
At this stage, the unfinished fan is called a sabuk,
and he inserts it into a frame for shaping.
Using a refining knife, he creates a nice curve.
Once he gets the desired shape,
he'll go back to the fan handle,
shaving and smoothing it out.
Narrator: Kim uses the traditional method of a hot iron
to add a design to the frame,
inner spokes, and edges of the fan.
Now that the framework is ready,
Kim uses a blade to take out a chunk from the spokes,
creating space for the paper.
A traditional Korean paper called hanji gets folded
and cut with precision to the fan size.
Glue is spread out before he taps the fan ribs
gently and evenly across it.
He carefully applies the paper,
folding it for each one of the ribs.
Fans for the royal family had 50 ribs,
and fans with 38 ribs, like this one, were for nobility.
Afterward, it may be left plain
or decorated by a painter or calligraphy artist.
There are two types of Korean fans:
a rigid round fan called danseon
and a folding fan called jeopseon.
Danseon was used by ordinary people,
while hapjukseon, a type of folding fan,
was reserved for the royal family and high-ranking nobility.
While they were popular until the mid-1970s and early '80s,
they declined as people sought
more modern ways to keep cool,
like air conditioners and electric fans.
Narrator: Creating a single fan
used to involve the hands of six workers,
but many have left the field due to low pay.
And now Kim is one of the few craftsmen
making them from start to finish.
He was recognized as a master-level fan maker in 2015
by South Korea's Cultural Heritage Administration.
Six generations of Kim's family
have made this traditional fan,
from his great-grandfather to his 20-year-old grandson.