Kim Chang-hoon’s "1000 Poem Songs" is a large-scale record that strings together a century-plus of Korean lyric poetry into music.
The project blurs the line between literature and music, sketching a new emotional map for listeners.
That it took four years to reach a thousand songs also raises questions about how we create and reframe art.
Why did Kim Chang-hoon bring poems into song?
Project overview
Poems set to music.
This undertaking attaches melodies to roughly 1,000 representative Korean lyric poems and reintroduces them as songs.
Starting after his return to Korea in 2015 and continuing through October 2025, the journey is explained as the work of a musician driven by curiosity and reverence for verse.
Releases and live shows are not simply endpoints; they mark the start of new interpretations.
Kim Chang-hoon, known to many as the bassist of Sanulrim (a pioneering Korean rock band from the 1970s), appears here not as a background instrumentalist but as an interpreter and arranger.
His work is more than turning lines into lyrics. He reshapes a poem’s rhythm and images into musical phrasing and breathing.
In that process, poems meet new audiences and the songs gain literary depth.

The photo captures a moment from a live show and gives weight to the project’s immediacy.
Without extra captioning, the image still suggests the temporal and atmospheric point where music and poetry meet.
It asks the reader to imagine a space where both arts coexist.
Historical context
This is an accumulation of time.
The work began after Kim’s return in 2015 and reached 1,000 songs by October 2025 — a striking tally over roughly a decade of focus and production.
The process started with the chance discovery of a poetry collection, and from that moment Kim devoted himself to turning lines into sound.
The arc culminated in commemorative releases and solo concerts.
The tunes kept coming without stopping.
That remark reveals the inward energy behind the work.
Kim says he drew emotions that music alone could not hold and let poems provide the language to translate those feelings into songs.
The result spans roughly 120 years of lyric poetry, offering a wide temporal spectrum of voices and moods.
Inclusivity and selectivity
Broad and deep choices.
The project covers lyric poems from the 1890s through the 2010s — about 120 years.
It includes women poets, national-identity poets, and contemporary voices, while selecting representative works that reveal each era’s sensibility.
In doing so, it does more than provide melodic variations; it draws a cultural map that links eras and emotions.
Selection criteria are not exhaustively spelled out, but the chosen pieces tend to cluster around resonant feeling and lyrical density.
This curatorial stance widens interpretive possibilities and invites rediscovery of specific poems.
Consequently, some works offer listening experiences quite different from traditional reading.
Weighing support and skepticism: why praised, why doubted
Arguments in favor
This is an effort to connect cultures.
Pairing poetry and music helps make literature more accessible.
First, the project increases accessibility. Rhythm and melody can carry emotion directly, making poems easier to approach for younger listeners or those who feel distant from literature.
Second, the musician uses poetic language as raw material to open new creative horizons. Kim’s arrangements honor symbolism and imagery while reframing them with musical devices. Thus the synergy between composition and interpretation expands cultural value.
Third, the work encourages intergenerational exchange. When older poems are played in contemporary musical terms, past sensibilities meet new audiences. Over time, such creative reinvestments can become cultural assets for education and lifelong learning.
Moreover, the selective presentation of some songs in live performance shows the project’s editorial care. Concerts act as testing grounds, and that performative scrutiny can function as quality control for a large-scale endeavor.
Arguments against
The concerns are legitimate.
First, a poem’s intrinsic cadence and semantic nuance may be altered in musical settings. Poetry relies on syllabic placement, pauses, and the micro-resonances produced by metaphor. Music introduces other rhythmic and harmonic rules, and sometimes subtle textual spaces are flattened or emphasis shifts.
Second, with a project of this scale, not every song can receive the same meticulous arranging, recording, or revision time. The figure of 1,000 suggests breadth and ambition, but it also implies practical limits; some tracks may fail to fully embody the original poem’s sensibility.
Third, differences between a poet’s intent and an interpreter’s choices are inevitable. For classic or politically charged poems, reproducing historical context musically is delicate. If musical choices contradict a poet’s original stance, critics may call the result a distortion.
Finally, there is a market question. It is uncertain whether poetry-based songs will sustain public interest in the mainstream music industry. Critical acclaim for such experiments does not guarantee commercial viability. Raising these doubts is not to belittle the project’s cultural value but to insist on realistic conditions for its expansion.
Examples that illustrate the gap
Concrete comparisons help.
For example, a musical setting of Park Byung-du’s "Road to Haenam" expanded its longing for home and mother into a grand melodic statement and found wide empathy.
By contrast, some short modernist poems lost their startling, jagged images when smoothed into song, prompting criticism that the musical version dulled the poem’s impact.
These cases show how reception can differ greatly within the same project.

The two images here complement spatial and visual context.
The distance between images guides the reader’s eye while conveying both the event’s live energy and its documentary aspect.
More broadly, the audiovisual pairing suggests the project moved beyond studio albums into the realm of performance art.
Policy and institutional implications
Public attention matters.
Beyond individual achievement, the project has implications for cultural policy.
Public funding can nurture ecosystems that encourage literature-music hybrids: budget allocation, performance grants, and copyright clarification all help similar projects proceed more securely.
Education systems could also use these musical adaptations as new entry points to poetry in schools and adult learning programs.
Policy should protect creative diversity while respecting the original works’ integrity.
Otherwise, support risks becoming merely a numbers game.
Conclusion and questions
The bottom line is clear.
Kim Chang-hoon’s "1000 Poem Songs" erases some boundaries between literature and music and opens cultural possibilities.
However, preserving a poem’s essence and ensuring high standards for each song remain pressing tasks.
In short, the project represents an important cultural investment.
Its sustainability will depend on institutional support and public receptiveness.
Future judgments will rest not only on how many songs were made, but on the emotional traces and cultural ripples each piece leaves behind.
Which poem would you like to hear as a song?