KPop Demon Hunters Revives Interest in Sejong Statue Once Called a Grim Reaper

A sculpture in storage gets a second look

A metal dancer removed from public view in Sejong, South Korea, could return after Netflix's animated hit KPop Demon Hunters changed how some viewers see its unsettling silhouette. As of September 7, 2025, the Government Complex Management Office is reviewing petitions to reinstall the work, which residents once compared to a grim reaper.

The sculpture was one of six artworks installed about a decade ago at Government Complex Sejong through a public arts program costing about 1.1 billion won. It initially stood near the National Tax Service building. Estimates of the dancer's individual value range from roughly 105 million to 150 million won in coverage of the project.

The figure wears traditional Korean clothing and a wide brimmed hat, stretches its arms outward and holds a fixed smile. Its creator intended to celebrate Korean dance. Residents and some public officials instead found the combination of its face, dark metallic surface and nighttime lighting disturbing. Authorities moved it nearby, then dismantled it and placed it in storage.

KPop Demon Hunters has brought renewed attention to Korean afterlife imagery through the Saja Boys, an idol group whose appearance draws on jeoseung saja, figures who guide the dead in Korean folklore. Social media comparisons between those characters and the Sejong sculpture have prompted calls to bring the dancer back.

The Ministry of the Interior and Safety has acknowledged the review. Any approved return would require deliberations under the Culture and Arts Promotion Act, with a new location selected through the relevant procedures. Officials have also cautioned that a public artwork cannot be moved in and out of view whenever popular taste changes.

The dance behind the disputed figure

The sculpture is known in English by several names, including Joyful Korean Melody, Our Merry Tune and Joyful Korean Rhythm. Those variations reflect translations of its Korean title, often rendered as Urigarak, meaning our melody or our tune. Public artworks commissioned for Korean audiences can acquire different English titles when they later attract international attention.

The dancer's pose comes from hallyangmu, a traditional dance style. Its arms extend widely, almost as though the figure is preparing to take flight. The clothing includes a gat, the broad brimmed horsehair hat closely associated with the Joseon era.

Descriptions of the work's intended meaning present it as an accessible expression of grace, dignity and Korean performance culture. The pose freezes qualities admired in dance, including poise and physical control, in a form that people can encounter outside a theater.

The material changes that encounter. Cold metal can look sleek in daylight but stark in poor weather. A smile that would shift naturally during a performance stays fixed on a sculpture, while sleeves and outstretched arms become an unmoving outline. Those features helped create the gap between the artistic intention and the reaction of some people walking past.

Why the original setting drew complaints

Residents began complaining soon after the work was installed. The gat, elongated arms, rigid smile and metallic sheen reminded some viewers of a grim reaper or a shamanic guardian. Its position at a major government building made that response more consequential: people expected an entrance that felt welcoming.

Nighttime floodlights sharpened shadows across the face and hands. Rain added another effect, with the glossy metal reflecting streetlights in ways that some passersby found unnerving. The same surfaces that could appear elegant in daylight took on a harsher appearance after dark.

Some public officials shared the concerns. Critics also questioned the spending, arguing that a publicly funded sculpture that unsettled people should not remain at the entrance to an important government building.

Authorities first moved the statue about 100 meters from its original position. It was later dismantled and stored in an underground parking area at the complex. Published accounts give removal dates ranging from 2016 to 2019. That uncertainty leaves the exact date unresolved, while the broad sequence of installation, nearby relocation and storage is consistent.

How the controversy developed

The sculpture's history spans an initial public arts commission, complaints about its appearance and a revival of interest roughly a decade later. The available dates allow a short timeline, although the removal year varies in published coverage.

• About a decade before September 2025: Six artworks were installed at Government Complex Sejong through a program costing about 1.1 billion won, including the dancer near the National Tax Service building.
• After installation: Residents and some officials objected to the figure's appearance, particularly under nighttime lighting. Authorities moved it about 100 meters.
• Between 2016 and 2019, according to differing published dates: The sculpture was taken down and placed in storage in an underground parking area at the complex.
• By September 7, 2025: Interest linked to KPop Demon Hunters had led to social media comparisons and formal petitions seeking reinstallation, which government officials were reviewing.

Sejong's dispute became a local cautionary tale about public art. Materials, lighting and placement can reshape the meaning people take from a work, even when its creator's purpose stays the same.

A film changes the audience's response

KPop Demon Hunters places Korean grim reaper imagery within an animated story about a demon hunting idol group. Its Saja Boys draw on jeoseung saja, familiar figures from folklore, literature and screen entertainment. The film's popularity has introduced those visual references to a wider global audience.

Social media users in Korea began sharing images that placed the Sejong dancer beside the Saja Boys. They compared the silhouette and facial expression, used the nickname grim reaper statue and urged authorities to retrieve it from storage.

The hat and gesture that once felt ominous to some viewers now have a different setting in popular culture. For fans, the film's stylized characters can make afterlife imagery seem fashionable and playful. Memes and fan edits also give familiar symbols new associations.

The sculpture itself has stayed the same. The audience's reference point has changed. A frozen smile previously read as chilling may now seem charismatic to people who connect it with the Saja Boys. Those reactions have moved beyond online discussion into formal requests for its return.

Officials leave the door open, with conditions

The Government Complex Management Office has confirmed that it is reviewing petitions asking for reinstallation. The Ministry of the Interior and Safety has also acknowledged the process. Officials have indicated that a return is possible if the proposal clears the required deliberations under the Culture and Arts Promotion Act.

A representative of the Government Complex Management Office addressed the petitions and the surge in interest while explaining why changing public taste cannot be the sole basis for a decision. The representative said:

We cannot simply reinstall and remove a statue based on shifting public sentiment.

The Ministry of the Interior and Safety's position similarly leaves room for the sculpture to return while requiring a formal review. Its stance was expressed this way:

The ministry said reinstallation is not impossible, provided it passes the necessary review under the Culture and Arts Promotion Act.

For people seeking the statue's return, the practical issue is whether a proposal can satisfy that process. Officials must consider the public interest and the suitability of a location alongside the renewed enthusiasm generated by the film.

What a review would need to consider

The Culture and Arts Promotion Act provides the framework for significant decisions about public artworks, including installation and relocation. At a national government site, the relevant management office and the Interior Ministry weigh petitions, legal requirements and conditions at the proposed location.

A review can examine whether the sculpture remains intact and whether it needs restoration. It can also consider how its materials would look in a chosen setting, whether its size and tone suit that location, and how lighting or explanatory signs could help people understand it.

A different site could give viewers more room to approach the figure from several angles. Some accounts suggest that moving it away from the main entrance is likely if it returns. The choice of setting matters because a face or gesture viewed from one fixed approach may look different when people can walk around it.

Explanatory signs could describe hallyangmu, the gat's place in historical dress and the artist's purpose. A revised lighting plan could reduce the sharp shadows that helped trigger the original complaints. A public walk through before final placement is another possible way to examine sightlines and gather reactions.

Why a dancer can resemble an afterlife guide

Jeoseung saja guide the dead to the afterlife in Korean folklore. Popular portrayals often dress them in dark clothing and sometimes a gat. Their calm or eerie expressions appear in films, television dramas, webtoons and games, giving audiences a familiar visual pattern.

The Sejong figure shares several features with that pattern: traditional headwear, long sleeves, a stiff grin and a dark metallic finish. Viewers who already associate those details with an afterlife guide can carry that association into their first encounter with the sculpture.

A public square offers a different experience from a performance stage or a museum. People may pass a work without an explanation of the dance it depicts. Rain, fog, surrounding government stonework and light directed upward can all change how its contours appear.

Hallyangmu communicates through movement, while the sculpture preserves one instant. An extended arm or controlled expression that looks graceful during a dance can feel strange when it never moves. The original debate grew partly from that difference between a living performance and a fixed figure.

KPop Demon Hunters supplies another way to read the same costume and pose. The renewed interest shows how popular entertainment can alter the associations people bring to a public object. Clear context about the dance and folklore would give visitors more information while leaving them free to decide how the artwork makes them feel.

The public money and maintenance questions

The six sculpture program cost about 1.1 billion won. The dancer's cited value ranges from around 105 million to 150 million won, with different accounts using different project accounting. Both figures remain part of the spending debate surrounding its removal and possible return.

Critics considered the expenditure wasteful if the work frightened people on their way to government offices. Supporters argued that commissioning local art is a basic cultural responsibility for a national complex and that changing tastes are a risk in any public arts program.

Returning the existing sculpture would involve a different set of expenses from commissioning a new work. Storage, any necessary restoration, transport, mounting, lighting and signage would draw on maintenance budgets. A detailed account of those costs would help taxpayers understand what was being spent and why.

Officials' cautious approach puts the potential cultural benefit alongside the responsibility to care for publicly owned art. Supporters of a return could argue that a more suitable location would allow the original investment to produce the public engagement intended when the work was commissioned.

A return would involve more than transport

Sejong's experience brings together three sources of disagreement over public sculpture: viewers may lack the creator's cultural reference points, an artwork may look different by day and night, and a civic entrance may carry expectations that the piece should feel welcoming.

Public walkabouts and workshops are possible ways to gather views before choosing a final location. Signs explaining the dance, clothing and artistic goal could make the work easier to understand. Lighting and landscaping could guide attention without making the face and hands appear excessively stark after dark.

A sculpture park or cultural campus would offer another kind of setting, with less pressure for a single work to serve as a symbolic doorway to government. Rotating artworks through such places is one option communities can consider. Outdoor dance demonstrations could also show the movement that the metal figure captures.

These are possible approaches to a return. Critics would still have space to object, while other visitors could learn more about what they were seeing. If the statue is reinstalled, its surroundings and nighttime appearance will be judged alongside the sculpture itself.

The work remains in storage as officials review petitions and public sentiment linked to KPop Demon Hunters. After the required reviews, an approved proposal would lead to site selection, consideration of lighting and signs, preparation for transport and installation, and announcement of a timetable. No approval or return date has been announced as of September 7, 2025.

A new display could explain both hallyangmu and jeoseung saja, showing why the dancer's traditional costume evokes a different figure for some viewers. That context would help keep its public role grounded in more than the latest wave of criticism or enthusiasm.

Key Points

• Sejong officials are reviewing petitions to return a dancer sculpture to public view after renewed interest linked to KPop Demon Hunters.
• The work was part of a six sculpture program costing about 1.1 billion won. Its individual value has been cited at roughly 105 million to 150 million won.
• Residents objected to its smile, traditional hat, metallic finish and nighttime appearance, comparing it to a grim reaper.
• Authorities moved it about 100 meters before removing it. Published removal dates range from 2016 to 2019.
• The sculpture is stored in an underground parking area at Government Complex Sejong.
• Any return would require review under the Culture and Arts Promotion Act. A new setting, lighting and explanatory signs are among the possibilities discussed.
• No reinstallation approval or timetable has been announced as of September 7, 2025.