Teen Vogue

**Teen Vogue** is an American online publication, formerly in print, launched in 2003, as a sister publication to Vogue, targeted at teenage girls. Like Vogue, it included stories about fashion and celebrities.

## Magazine features

The WayV members have appeared in the following issues:

* November 15, 2019 - Ten with SuperM
* January 20, 2020 - WayV
* May 15, 2020 - WayV with other SM Entertainment artists
* February 16, 2021 - A mention of YangYang on an article about TXT Yeonjun
* July 8, 2021 - Ten

## Articles

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## Meet SuperM, the Team of K-Pop Superstars That Became One Big Family

"I feel like that's the true role of K-pop: bringing cultures together.”

BY ELIZABETH DE LUNA

NOVEMBER 15, 2019

View complete article on Teen Vogue

SuperM has arrived. It’s late afternoon in Los Angeles, and voices can be heard floating through the halls of Capitol Records in L.A., muffled and low. They’re just out of sight, but if the video teasers for the K-pop supergroup’s debut are to be believed, the seven members will turn the corner burning with a smoldering intensity, walking with the confidence of an elite squad of K-pop assassins trained to vaporize the competition with a single look. All have been hand-picked for this mission from some of K-pop’s most successful groups: Taemin from the legendary SHINee, Kai and Baekhyun from the record-breaking EXO, Mark and Taeyong from the massive 21-member group NCT, and Ten and Lucas from NCT’s Chinese subunit WayV. Together, they are an industry team of aces, pairing powerful performance with immense individual skill in dancing, singing, and rapping.

But as they find their seats around a massive marble conference table, they’re more like a bunch of brothers at summer camp. Kai, an often blush-inducing dancer, has pulled the arms of his sweater over his hands to create soft paws and is hiding behind them as he whispers to giggling rapper Lucas. Baekhyun, the group’s leader and stunning vocalist, scrunches his nose in frustration as he struggles to open a water bottle. One by one, each member relaxes into their chairs and widens the gap between their slick onstage personas and their sweeter offstage selves.

Taeyong looks softer than his icy rapper persona as he yawns and stretches, the blinding silver highlight on his cheeks catching the sun as he adjusts the waves of his purple hair. Ten, usually a brooding dancer, is disarmingly friendly. When a part of the conversation strikes him as funny, he looks around the room to find someone else who is laughing and wrinkles his nose at them as if to say, “Isn’t this all so silly?” Mark, the youngest, is usually the excitable little brother of NCT. But as SuperM’s strongest English speaker (he’s actually from Toronto, Canada, originally), he matures into a calm and collected translator and only ages down again when caught in a fit of laughter.

The member with the biggest gap between onstage and off is Taemin, the group’s most senior member in terms of experience, who was selected from one of K-pop’s foundational groups, SHINee, and boasts one of the most successful solo careers in the history of the industry. When performing, Taemin is wickedly villainous, sensual, and sophisticated. In a recent interview, Taeyong went so far as to describe Taemin’s stage presence as “a bit immoral.” But offstage, in this conference room, Taemin’s small frame is almost swallowed up by his chair. He likes to hold water in his cheeks so that they puff out like a fish, and his big, round eyes, which are usually narrowed for effect when he performs, stare blankly from beneath his shiny blonde bob. He is so quiet that he sometimes appears to not be paying attention at all, but then one of the other guys cracks a joke and his entire face lights up.

The group is in high spirits, coming off of an intense October weekend of stateside promotion that included their first official appearance as SuperM, the debut of the music video for their single, “Jopping,” the release of their eponymous debut mini album, and a performance for thousands outside of Capitol’s iconic headquarters in Hollywood. SuperM carries on the legacy of SM, one of K-pop’s oldest and most-revered entertainment agencies. “If you ask me, I’d say what the world now considers K-Pop began with SM Entertainment,” says Taemin, through an interpreter, as Ten nods in agreement. “SM was the very first company to take musical influences from Western culture and incorporate Korean culture into that by rearranging and writing lyrics with our style.” When Taemin finishes, he turns to Kai in embarrassment and says, “I’m too proud of SM, huh?” But Taemin is right; the company created what is considered to be the first modern K-pop idol group, H.O.T., in 1996, and has been a dominant player in the space ever since.

The guys don’t show it, but they are under an immense amount of pressure. SuperM was conceptualized and produced by the founder of SM, Soo Man Lee, and their staff notes that curiosities are piqued, even within the company itself. “I think people are interested in this new attempt because we are not newbies. Each of us are from groups that are already well-established,” says Baekhyun, the eldest. Kai agrees, “We feel obliged to live up to their expectations.” They don’t know it yet, but in a week they will have the no. 1 album in the United States.

Despite looming expectations, the guys seem more delighted by the new arrangement than worried. “I’ve been in SHINee for 10 years, so starting a new team almost felt like getting a different job,” says Taemin. “I was excited; it felt so fresh, like a new start. To be honest, I thought the project was going to get cancelled when I first heard about it, so SuperM has a special place in my heart.” Baekhyun finishes, “Each of us saw it as an opportunity, a new challenge, and that helped…” Taeyong chimes in, “It united us.” “That’s right,” nods Baekhyun, “Now, we feel like we’re a family.”

That bond was formed quickly, over a handful of summer months in 2019. Though they all trained and worked under SM, most members had only ever seen each other in passing, like students in different grades at a large school. Despite this, the synergy between them is almost telepathic. After Baekhyun fails to break the cap on his water bottle, he silently pushes it towards Taeyong, who opens it for him with a twist of his wrist and without a single word. Members often finish each others’ sentences and exchange knowing looks across the table. Whenever Taemin isn’t sure about the meaning of a word in English, he leans over to consult Ten. At one point, Taeyong looks at Mark with pride and reaches out instinctively to stroke the youngest’s ear. This must be fairly normal, because Mark barely reacts.

“We understand each other very well,” assures Mark, “and I feel like that's the true role of K-pop: bringing cultures together.”

When they return to Korea after this trip, each member will rejoin their respective group or solo promotions until they come together again as SuperM in November to tour the U.S. and Canada. Kai discloses that Lucas is already exhibiting separation anxiety. “This morning Lucas said to me, ‘Hyung, I wanna move in with you! Can’t we move in together?’” Kai says, using the Korean word for “big brother.” Lucas lets out a wild, guttural giggle as Kai snitches again, “Even Baekhyun said in the car that he would miss us after we all got back from the States!”

For these short two weeks in Los Angeles, they’re living together and having what sounds like the time of their lives. They’ve all taken roles around the house. Baekhyun is known for recalibrating the group dynamic, cracking jokes to lighten the mood. “I’m the reaction, I react to them,” Taemin says cheerily. “Mark and Ten are English teachers,” says Baekhyun, “Taeyong is the cook and dishwasher…” “and alarm!” chimes Taemin. “Taemin is in charge of dieting,” says Kai. Taeyong points to Baekhyun, “And he disrupts dieting,” he says, as they all crack up, “he’s the Diet Destroyer.” Baekhyun shrugs. “We’re the tall ones,” says Kai, pointing to Lucas and himself. “I’m in charge of getting things that are far away,” says Lucas, with a laugh that is almost musical. “He’s the biggest baby,” says Ten, smiling lovingly from the corner. “There are cups and plates placed high on the cupboard...” says Taemin. “And Lucas takes them out for us,” finishes Taeyong.

Like most families, they watch Netflix together. “We like zombies, especially Kai hyung. He likes The Walking Dead,” says Ten. “And Black Mirror,” suggests Mark. Taemin looks up at Ten with doe eyes and says “Stranger Things!” in a small voice, which Ten repeats at a volume everyone can hear. They go swimming in the house’s pool, play mafia and video games, and share meals, Taemin’s favorite. “I love that we eat breakfast together every morning. We wouldn’t do that if we weren’t close. We feel comfortable with each other’s company, it feels natural.” They’ve had everything from Korean meals and Chinese food to pancakes but, usually, they eat cereal. That is, until the diet destroyer gets involved. “We started off with Froot Loops,” says Mark, “and then we searched through the refrigerator and saw strawberry yogurt. Baekhyun was like ‘Alright, we’ve got to put the Froot Loops in the yogurt!’”

Between the seven of them, they speak five languages: English, Korean, Chinese, Thai, and Japanese, so “sometimes communicating gets very confusing,” says Lucas, switching into Korean for the last word, to underscore his point. Still, “we understand each other very well,” assures Mark, “and I feel like that's the true role of K-pop: bringing cultures together.” Ten nods in agreement. He can speak four languages and has remained alert throughout the interview, like a guard dog, leaning in to translate Korean or Chinese to English. “What’s cool is that we’re from different places, so when we talk we get to learn new vocabulary,” Ten notes, as Taemin looks on with cheeks full of water. “Sometimes I even teach them Thai,” he says, beaming proudly. “That’s the best part.” On cue, Taeyong presses his palms together, bows his head, and says the Thai word for “hello.”

SuperM has been focused on breaking into the United States, so many of the members have been learning English from Mark and Ten. Taemin, who is already fluent in Korean and Japanese, says “pronunciation” has been the hardest part. A few days earlier in an Instagram live stream, he playfully pleaded with fans of SHINee, called Shawols, to help him learn the language. When asked about that, Taemin smiles, shrugs his shoulders up to his ears, straightens his arms and splays his hands wide in discomfort, like a scared cat. With perfect pronunciation he says, “I hope to speak English well but...” and then makes a gesture that communicates, “I hope to get better.” Taeyong nods and says in English, “Step-by-step,” while Kai lets out a supportive, “Wow!”

In September, Baekhyun also took to Instagram to announce that he and Lucas were delighted and perplexed by the sound of one word in particular: awkward. The mention of this sets off a domino effect during our interview, as each member tries pronouncing “awkward” themselves. Then Baekhyun introduces a new word: turtle. He points to his mouth, which he has opened comically wide to get the sound just right, “Toooortle!” “The word turtle is so awkward!” summarizes Taeyong. Then they can’t be stopped—their favorite terms are flying back and forth across the table: Pronunciation! Positive energy! Level! Frog! Pioneers! Taeyong slowly sounds out “performances” and then claps for himself when he’s done. Over in the corner, Baekhyun leans back in his chair and crosses his arms matter-of-factly. “Turtle!” he says with confidence, one last time, as Mark bursts out laughing and Taeyong slaps him playfully on the knee.

The room is so warm with joy, so free from ego and pretense, that it’s easy to forget that these seven friends are some of the world’s most celebrated performers. Despite their differences—in age, language, culture, and experience—they function as a single solid, supportive unit, united by one goal.

For almost the entire interview, Mark and Taemin have been playing with two thick silver rings overlaid with heavy crosses. At one point, Taemin experienced a brief panic when Mark’s ring got stuck on his finger. “We got these as a gift from Mr. Soo Man Lee,” Mark says seriously, holding his up in front of his face. Each member’s ring bears a slightly different design, but they all “have ‘Super M’ inscribed on the back.” The accessory feels overtly symbolic: a physical reminder of the heavy expectations that unite them. “This is our Thanos Infinity Gauntlet,” Mark jokes, referencing SuperM’s branding as the “Avengers of K-pop.” As he laughs with Taemin, his face softens and he looks like the group’s little brother again. Then they both pick up their rings and place them back on their fingers, joining the rest of their team.

## One Year of WayV: The Chinese Pop Group on Fanboying, Shrek, and Their Vision for the Future

“When we first met, we had this sense like, ‘we need to help each other out.’ That kind of thing connects us. We protect each other.”

BY ELIZABETH DE LUNA

JANUARY 20, 2020

View complete article on Teen Vogue

One year ago, Chinese pop group WayV made its debut with a plan laid out in the lyrics of its first single: “With my team, we are not surrendering,” they sang on “Regular." “The dream is gripped tight in my hands and lights up the visions I imagined.”

In the past year, WayV has pursued those dreams by releasing an EP, two mini albums, and an English-language single, but the group's vision wasn’t just musical. Offstage, WayV has closed the gap that usually separates idols from fans by showing the world unedited versions of themselves. Four of the seven members have opened personal Instagrams and streamed everything from getting stuck behind hotel-room beds to eating burgers and singing with abandon in the back of a van. As a team, they’re confident, goofy, and very active online, constantly incorporating meme-y humor into their posts and interactions, and generally not caring much what anyone thinks about them.

They have the day off today.... sort of. The members are hanging out around a massive conference table in one of SM Entertainment’s four buildings in the Gangnam district of Seoul, South Korea. The walls are lined with posters of some of the company’s many iconic K-Pop groups: EXO, Girls' Generation, SHINee, Super Junior, TVXQ. Later, WayV leader and vocalist, Kun, and dancer WinWin will head to an English lesson together, and dancer Hendery will attend drum practice (“I’m just learning for fun,” he says, nodding earnestly. “I think it’s important to have hobbies”), and they have this interview, of course.

But today there are no official appearances to make in front of fans or cameras, which means the group members are makeup-free and styled in their own clothing, sipping drinks from the café downstairs, making themselves comfortable in their seats. Dancer Ten will, in partnership with rapper YangYang, translate the members' thoughts and opinions to English, and has practically draped himself over the table with anticipation, blocking rapper Lucas, who is now slouched in his chair and hidden from view. YangYang and Kun’s faces are partially obstructed by black face masks, the kind used to protect wearers from pollution, or for K-pop idols, to maintain anonymity in public (and sure, they could be thinking about pollution too). They’ve pulled the masks down to their chins for this chat, but still look ready to get up and walk out onto the streets of Seoul at any moment.

The room is relaxed, and the seven group members are teasing one another in Chinese, Korean, and English. When Ten’s widely known nickname for Hendery is brought up for discussion, Kun shrieks with laughter. Ten acts exasperated (“Ah, you’re gonna bring that up again!”), but immediately begins an evaluation of each member. “Shrek is my favorite animation, and Hendery is Donkey because...”

“Because I am annoying!” Hendery shouts from the end of the table.

“Because his characteristics and the way he plays around with us are very similar to Donkey,” concludes Ten.

“It’s because he talks a lot,” admits YangYang.

Ten continues, “YangYang resembles Puss in Boots” (YangYang nods brightly, probably because Puss in Boots is his favorite character) “and Xiaojun is like the pink dragon that’s in love with Donkey.” Xiaojun, the group’s main vocalist, looks baffled by the comparison but doesn’t protest.

Ten narrows his eyes at Lucas as if trying to see him more clearly. “Lucas kind of reminds me of Prince Charming, that guy who is always like,” Ten straightens up, pushes his shoulders back, and dramatically runs his hand through his jet black hair, "'Ah, I'm so handsome.'" Hendery giggles and nods in agreement. “And WinWin… I don’t know…” Ten sighs in genuine frustration as WinWin smiles shyly behind large gold-rimmed glasses. "It's very hard because WinWin just seems like a human.”

YangYang’s hair flops around a bit as he nods: “Yeah, he’s like the most human out of all of us.”

Kun, the last victim, turns to Ten slowly, as if warning him to choose carefully. “King? King?” says Xiaojun excitedly, referring to Lord Farquaad. Kun grimaces, waving his hand in the air, saying, “Ah, no, no, no.” Ten takes a breath before adding, "I shouldn't say this but... you know the three little pigs?” Kun, whose hair is a sweet cherry pink, looks at Ten in disbelief. “When I look at Kun, he is just so pink and soft and squishy,” Ten says, giggling. The members are in pieces, emitting wild, guttural laughs that get caught in their throats. Kun makes a face and slaps Ten on the shoulder.

All seven members of WayV are of Chinese descent, though Ten was born in Thailand and YangYang spent six years of his childhood in Germany. One by one, they came together to train under SM in Seoul. Lucas taps his fingertips on the table as he explains in Chinese, “I think people want to know more about how our group dynamics came to be, but there is nothing more to say than this: We all came from different places to another foreign country to train and work together. We all believed in and helped each other.”

Ten continues, “When we first met, we had this sense like, ‘we need to help each other out.’ That kind of thing connects us. We protect each other.”

They consider their lives to be deeply informed by their heritage. “We’re all Chinese but are from different cities, so we grew up with different cultures in our home,” says YangYang. “In Guangdong [where Xiaojun is from] and Hong Kong and Macau [from which Lucas and Hendery hail], they speak Cantonese instead of Mandarin and have special meals like dim sum. But WinWin grew up in Wenzhou City and they have…”

He trails off as WinWin narrows his eyes and puts his fingers to his lips to think before saying, “Hot pot, which is very good and very spicy.” WinWin smiles, emphasizing the last word.

Ten notes, “In another part of China, Sichuan, the taste is like a ‘numb’ spicy. When you eat it your lips get numb.”

“[Taiwanese musician] Jay Chou is one of the biggest reasons that I wanted to become a singer,” says Kun, before belting out a bit of one of Chou’s songs. “Since 2000, he has been very influential for Chinese music, a legend.”

Lucas tilts his head to one side and adds, “I also think a lot about the culture of Chinese music that Kun just mentioned. It’s different from music from the West that we are also influenced by, so we’re able to introduce people to the combination of the two. Our members’ music culture is ‘Chinese style,’ but we use that to make pop songs. For example, traditional Chinese songs are very slow and…” he lets out what sounds like a yodel, before continuing, “Xiaojun style.” Xiaojun raises his eyebrows and shoots him a look from across the table. Lucas clarifies that his imitation is meant as a compliment, “Xiaojun’s voice is very rare in Chinese pop music.”

“It’s gentle,” Kun says, nodding.

YangYang continues, “Lucas is saying that Xiaojun grew up singing ballads so his voice fits slow songs, but if you add his voice to a hip-hop song, for example, it mixes well, even if it’s in a different style. It’s another level; a mixed culture.”

Ten offers another example: “WinWin does traditional Chinese dance so we’re like, 'Why don't we use that for the next album?' It makes WayV unique. We can mix pop culture and traditional Chinese dance to create something new.”

Ten suggests that WinWin try again to speak in English, and everyone cheers in support as he clears his throat. “Chinese dance looks like ballet and Chinese kung fu,” WinWin says, then nods to indicate that he’s said his piece.

“It’s over!” YangYang says with a laugh, seeming eternally chipper. “But yeah, that style is a mix of different kinds of Chinese dance. And every time we watch WinWin, we think, Ahhh, my God!"

"So beautiful!” Kun adds in English.

Ten quips, smirking, “At Chinese New Year they wear traditional red outfits and perform the dragon dance. If we use that, maybe WinWin can be the dragon.” Everyone laughs but WinWin, who is visibly not as thrilled with the idea.

Because of their upbringing and training, every member speaks at least two languages fluently (Korean and Mandarin), and most speak four. In a recent Instagram live, YangYang and Ten deliberated over what language to use to talk to each other as if picking an item from a menu. The group mixes English, Korean, and Mandarin when speaking to one another, but in what languages do they each think? Hendery’s hand zooms up: “For me, Cantonese.” Ten thinks in Thai and English, WinWin in Mandarin, YangYang in Mandarin and English. Kun thinks in Korean in Korea and Mandarin when he’s in China.

Lucas’s eyes almost pop out of his head as he exclaims in Korean, “I really don’t know!” He continues in English, “Sometimes,” and then switching to Mandarin, “I think in Mandarin, sometimes in Korean.” He scrunches his shoulders and flips his hands up in the air like the shrug emoji and admits, “I only think in Cantonese when I am angry.” WinWin explodes into laughter. YangYang attempts to translate but dissolves into giggles, at which point Kun loses it too. Does Lucas also speak in Cantonese when he’s angry? Ten nods rapidly, eyes wide, to confirm.

From the corner, Xiaojun speaks up: “I think a lot.” Lucas throws his head back with a wild laugh, delighted by this unprompted introspection.

Ten explains that Xiaojun is “the mood maker” of the group, a term commonly used in K-pop to describe “someone that becomes the main focus because they're unique and fun to watch. With that kind of personality you catch people's attention without knowing it, and sometimes Xiaojun gets stressed because he’s like, ‘What happened? What did I do? Why are they pointing at me?’"

Xiaoun smiles from below his ashy platinum fringe. “Bringing strength to people, that's the thing I always want to do,” he says, when asked about music. “When I write a song it's always as a gift to others. Three years ago one of my friends was going through a hard time.” His dark brows are furrowed and the room is silent. “I wrote a song to bring them warmth and power.” He presses his palms together, as if praying, while he talks about finding strength in himself. “Other people can go out to coffee shops, but with our tight schedules, I can't do that a lot, so I often try to sit alone with myself and be quiet when I'm in a noisy space. That allows me to process everything and take it all in. I usually read books about life, philosophy books.”

“If you know Xiaojun, he’s a guy who believes in the concept that love is everything in the world," Ten says, jumping in with another perspective, "so you have to give him a lot of love….”

Ten is cut off by Hendery, who announces, in Chinese, that “he’s [[[Xiaojun]]] turning red now!”

A blushing Xiaojun groans, “Ohhh, my God!” and disappears under the table.

“He’s shy” says Ten, as Xiaojun pops back up to share one more thought: “Through reading books I find peace, even in those noisy places.”

Ten smiles at him and coos “cute” in Korean.

Throughout the conversation, Kun has been sitting back in his chair, supervising, giving calm, barely audible directions in Chinese to his members. As Xiaojun combs through his thoughts, Kun suggests that Lucas try to “control [his] emotions” so Xiaojun can express himself without distraction. At another point, after a question is posed to the entire group, Kun reminds the members to “speak clearly” if they choose to answer. Kun is the eldest, in addition to being the leader, and has noted that he does not like to be called the “mother of the group.” But he does seem to serve as a parental voice of reason. “As a leader, I don’t do anything special,” he says humbly. “But I always work on being the glue of the group, to help us be more united. My role is to make us better.” When WayV recently won Best New Asian Artist at the 2019 Mnet Asian Music Awards, Kun was not as collected. “I was so nervous, you can see my hands were shaking,” he says, laughing.

That award was a meaningful indication that the members of WayV, whose ages range from 19 to 24, are on their way to fulfilling the plan they laid out for themselves on the song “Regular.” But there are smaller moments too, when the group realizes how much its impact has grown in a year. YangYang, for example, is obsessed with collecting sneakers, a habit he picked up while studying at an international school in Germany. “In our dorm right now, we have a wall of sneakers just for me. I am a fan of basketball, and sports in general, and collecting sneakers is a way to get closer to them, especially because I don't play much anymore. And I really like Travis Scott, so I try to collect all of his sneakers. It helps me get more in touch with him and his music," he says unabashedly. "It’s like a fanboy thing.”

Now, fans of WayV, officially dubbed “WayZenNi,” collect YangYang’s clothes in a similar way. “On Twitter there are ‘YangYang sneaker closet’ posts. When I go to the airport, people photograph my shoes and post a picture of them!” he says, blushing. “I feel overwhelmed.”

Lucas “awws,” and Ten says, snorting, “Now he's telling the world that he has a fan Twitter!”

WayV has multiple musical releases under its belt and fans who adore the group, but the members still consider themselves to be in the early stages of artistic development. “I think we're still babies!” Ten says, and the rest of the group nods. “When you look at the world, there are so many new things coming up and trends changing. There’s no ending point where you can say, ‘I’ve learned everything,’ because everything keeps moving and we need to keep learning.”

“Personally, I think I need freedom,” Lucas says in Chinese, “to develop myself, to feel the colors of the world and in life, and then to use those experiences to give character to new projects.”

Ten absentmindedly rubs a silver horseshoe charm hanging around his neck. “I think that's important," he says. "That kind of stuff really impacts us as artists. I want to express myself through music so I am learning to write lyrics. Yesterday, Xiaojun and I went to the studio and he started playing random chords on the piano and I tried to write down my own melody and lyrics.”

WinWin wants to act, and YangYang and Hendery are working on writing their own raps and freestyling. The pair had two songs — "King of Hearts” and “We Go NaNaNa” — included on WayV’s most recent mini album, *Take Over the Moon*, which came out in October. According to YangYang, “We Go NaNaNa” was like “an exam” to see if they could write their own songs. When that experiment went well, “Hendery and I got the 'King of Hearts' demo and discussed the mood, the feeling, the topic. It was a really fun experience for us. Preparing our new album was one of the best learning experiences.”

“When we first met, we had this sense like, ‘we need to help each other out.’ That kind of thing connects us. We protect each other.”

Hendery, who has been uncharacteristically quiet at the end of the table, nods enthusiastically as YangYang speaks. After the interview, he apologizes profusely for not saying much. “I don’t speak English very well but I’m working on getting better,” he says in perfect English, then becomes animated as he geeks out over the American YouTube channels he watches to improve his vocabulary, including First We Feast. Hendery is also the de-facto reviewer of Kun’s vlog series “Kun’s Cloud,” and the two sat whispering over the latest edit just before this interview started. Vlogger Kun is practicing magic (“He’s really good!” says YangYang) and using his foundation in piano theory to compose in LogicPro. Now he is focusing on fine-tuning his ear and spends “a lot of time in MIDI looking for suitable sounds for me and for our group.”

Xiaojun is learning to produce as well, but shakes his head when asked if we’ll hear his work soon: “I don't think I'm ready. I want to learn more. Kun is better than me, but we teach each other.”

When asked about WayV’s future, YangYang adds a big-picture perspective: “We're going to go on together and grow as a family for five, 10, 20 years.”

Lucas says that because his relationship with the other members was created as they grew up together, “I hope fans can now grow up with us so we can build that kind of dynamic with them too. It won’t just be the seven of us, but a whole WayV community.” Is that why he goes live on Instagram so often? Lucas howls with laughter, embarrassed to be called out for his frequent streaming, as Ten quietly chokes on his coffee. “I started my Instagram because I want to see our fans from all over the world. I think there should be more interaction between us; I want to be friends with them.”

Ten puts down his coffee and says seriously, “To be honest, I don't see that much of a difference between fans from different countries, because they all give us love. And the thing about love is that it doesn’t matter what country you’re from, it transcends all that.”

## K-Pop Points to the Future of Live Music With Immersive Online Concerts

"If you turned off the lights in your room and had your computer in front of you, it felt like you were really there.”

BY CRYSTAL BELL

MAY 15, 2020

View complete article on Teen Vogue

In an alternate universe, 18-year-old Brooke Morgan would be counting down the days until K-pop superstars NCT 127 kicked off their second North American tour in June. She bought her ticket to Neo City - The Awards in February, and she was excited to see her favorite group — whose chiseled faces and technicolor fringe adorn the walls of her Newport Beach bedroom — perform at The Forum in Los Angeles. It was something to look forward to, an important date in a summer schedule already packed with K-pop concerts. But that was before the world stopped.

In March, the spread of the novel coronavirus put a temporary end to live music. Major concert promoters like Live Nation have suspended concert tours for the foreseeable future, and even as states around the country slowly begin to reopen, it could be at least another six to 18 months before the live music industry is up and running again — and that will come after major financial losses. Even then, it's unlikely that things will immediately go back to normal, whatever normal may mean in a reality where coronavirus is part of our global vernacular.

The absence of live concerts has impacted fans and artists worldwide, and everyone's found their own ways to cope. Artists have taken to platforms like Instagram Live, Twitter, and YouTube to stream lo-fi performances from their living rooms. On any given day, you can watch Niall Horan strumming his guitar in his brightly lit kitchen; Ariana Grande singing her heart out (remotely) alongside composer Jason Robert Brown; and Megan Thee Stallion vibing out on TikTok. The internet has become a free, virtual music festival, which is cool for now but not very sustainable for an industry in crisis, or for fans desperate to feel the physical sensations of live music — the warm vibrations in your chest, the static humming in your head.

Enter Beyond LIVE, a collaboration between Korea's SM Entertainment (home to NCT, SuperM, EXO, and more) and tech giant Naver, that combines the intimacy of a fan-focused live stream with the spectacle of a full-scale concert production.

Described as a "new era of live music," SM announced that Beyond LIVE would launch with a series of online live concerts for four of its most prominent boy groups: SuperM, WayV, NCT Dream, and NCT 127. (Others have since been scheduled.) The first of which, SuperM's Beyond The Future concert, was broadcast live on April 26 via the V Live app in over 109 countries, followed by WayV and NCT Dream. NCT 127 is set to take the stage on May 17, giving NCTzens the opportunity to see their faves serve vocals, visuals, and choreography through their screens in real time. For Brooke, who was one of the 75,000 who purchased a virtual ticket to see SuperM perform their two-hour set live from an empty Seoul arena, the experience was so visceral that "it felt like I was rewatching the video I took at their actual concert [in San Diego]," she tells Teen Vogue.

"If you turned off the lights in your room and had your computer in front of you, it felt like you were really there," she says, adding that the augmented reality effects (including holographic tigers that leapt across the stage during a performance of their new song "Tiger Inside" and virtual lightsticks that lit up the venue's hollow audience pit), in addition to the agile camerawork that moved with the performers on stage, gave the online affair a surprisingly immersive quality. "It literally felt like you were standing on stage with them, like you were about to join the backup dancers. It's cool to see how SM has innovated."

With live music on hold for the foreseeable future, there's been an influx of virtual experiences from companies looking to engage with fans while adhering to social distancing guidelines. 88rising produced Asia Rising Forever, a five-hour Twitter live stream of pre-taped performances and segments from artists like Rich Brian, mxmtoon, LOONA, and more; Big Hit Entertainment organized Bang Bang Con, a weekend marathon of old BTS concerts streamed for free on YouTube that amassed over 50 million total views; and for 10 minutes on a Thursday in late April, 12 million Fortnite players watched a digital avatar of Travis Scott, wearing his signature Nikes, perform his new song "The Scotts" in the game. The track then topped the Billboard Hot 100.

"It's been proven that there's a global appetite for this kind of content," Danny Lee, the founder of artist management agency Asian Agent, says. Lee, who's worked with artists like BLACKPINK, Black Eyed Peas, and (G)I-DLE, looks at Scott and Fortnite's cross-platform approach as a healthy way for the industry to move forward. "From a management perspective, when your song achieves a No. 1 on Billboard, and you're able to turn that traffic into download sales and merch sales after the event, that's really exciting."

It helps, of course, that SM has been developing this kind of "culture technology" for years. At SM, art is a science to be optimized. So it's no surprise that the company is pushing the boundaries of live music even further by broadcasting full-sized concerts from inside an actual concert hall, complete with chaotic interactive challenges, a lightstick syncing service, and technology that "allowed us to chat with fans in real time and see their reactions," SuperM's Mark tells Teen Vogue. For the young rapper, it was "as if [the fans] were there in person." Dancer Ten adds, "It was really meaningful to be able to interact with our fans via video call." If Beyond LIVE is a case study, then what can the industry learn from this type of pay-per-view live programming?

"I'm very thirsty for content with all of these concerts getting canceled and not having that as an outlet anymore," Rocky Weintrob says from her bedroom in upstate New York. Though, like many fans, the 25-year-old student was initially wary of spending the money. Each Beyond LIVE concert costs roughly $27 USD, or 1,500 V coins on V Live, to stream. The steep ticket price for a purely online experience sparked a debate among fans, some of whom thought seeking profit in the middle of a global health pandemic and economic downturn was, well, a tactless move. The company even released a warning prior to the show that it would potentially take legal action against those streaming the event illegally to keep piracy to a minimum.

"The $30 ticket price was off putting to me," Sarah, who NCTzens know as @banana\_uwu online, says. The 25-year-old meme maestro behind the popular account says her main concern was spending money without knowing what exactly she was paying for. "We didn't know what we were getting before the first SuperM concert, so that first one hurt a little bit," she adds. "But after seeing SuperM and WayV, and the effort that they put into the visual effects and each stage, I'm personally willing to pay $30." There's also the fact that the concert will eventually be made available on video-on-demand, so ticket holders can watch it as many times as they want. "If you want to purchase a concert DVD produced by the company, those can go for $60-plus," Brooke adds. "So you're seeing four different concerts for the price of $120." However, Sarah thinks the company should consider lowering the cost for future Beyond LIVE events. "SM was really successful with the amount of tickets that they sold, but as a sentiment overall from what I saw it was viewed as slightly too expensive for something that's not in person."

While Beyond LIVE does require a bit of disposable income, it's still a more affordable alternative to live shows, where the average concert ticket price in 2019, according to Pollstar, was $94.83. And as any K-pop fan knows, the price of seeing their idols in the flesh can sometimes quadruple that. "The minimum cost could be $60 for a nosebleed seat, and then up to $400 for a good seat," Sarah says. And those good, P1 seats often come with exclusive artist engagements, like photos and hi-touches (where artists stand in a line, palms out, and fans move down the queue to swiftly say hello and give the idols high fives). Beyond LIVE thought of that, too.

Among those who were invited to be part of the virtual audience — their faces projected in boxes on the LED screens in front of and behind the artists on stage — a handful were selected to ask the members questions during a live fan Q&A segment. Allison Clement was one of the lucky few who got to personally introduce herself to SuperM and her ultimate bias, Taemin.

A K-pop fan since 2009 (and she has the signed MBLAQ albums to prove it), the 27-year-old Florida native submitted her information through SM's fan community app Lysn on a whim. Even after she was asked to participate in the stream, she didn't fully grasp the situation until she heard Taemin say, "Hi, Allison." It still feels surreal. "You don't get that at a regular concert," she says, donning her favorite green NCT Dream barrettes. "You might get a hi-touch or a photo opportunity, but hi-touches happen so quickly — you pass by and people rush you, and you don't always get to say anything to them. This was completely different."

Not only did she get to ask Taemin a question, but she also created the concert series's first viral moment when instead of waiting for English-speaking member Mark to translate Taemin's response from Korean to English, she utilized her own knowledge of the Korean language, surprising the members and viewers watching from around the globe. "What I said was really basic," she says humbly. "I said, 'I can only speak a little bit' in Korean, and [Taemin] still smiled so brightly. To know that was because of me? I'll never experience that again."

https://twitter.com/arclem93/status/1254851393946599424

It's a feeling that Alba Roa Marin shares. The 22-year-old WayV fan from Seville, Spain, had a similar out-of-body experience when she asked member Hendery to recount his most memorable day. "Most of the people who thanked me [on Twitter] were like, 'I'm so glad that you picked Hendery,'" she says. "And of course I'm going to pick him, I love him to death." Alba knows that an opportunity like this — face time with a member of WayV, an Asian group primarily focused on the Asian market — is also rare for a European fan. "I love WayV," she says. "They're one of my ultimate groups, and when I saw the merch on sale, I thought, 'They're not going to come to Europe anytime soon, so I need to buy this.'" She bought an AR ticket set, which included an AR ticket, a Hendery AR photocard, a ticket holder, and a photo stand. The merch bundle also came with a code to stream the concert. "They know what they're doing," she adds wryly. "I buy many things just because it has a picture of my fave."

But while Alba appreciates the virtual interactions, it still doesn't replace the energy of a live show. "When I watch a concert online, it's like watching a YouTube video," she says. "They're performing somewhere I cannot attend. But at an actual concert, even if I'm far away and cannot see them properly, I know I'm there. It's the feeling of sharing the moment with them. For me, the experience of talking with them was through a screen — I had no real interaction. Even if I was lucky enough to talk to them, it feels for me like it wasn't real? I don't know how to explain it."

Luckily, Jessica Grahn, a music neuroscientist and researcher at Western University's Brain and Mind Institute, can. "When people are watching live music inside a venue, they are generally more aroused," she says. In this connotation, arousal is a measure of energy and engagement, but essentially what this means is that there is more activity in your nervous system when you're at a live show. "You are more absorbed when you're listening to a live performance versus any kind of recorded performance," Grahn says. That, in turn, can greatly affect your overall mood and mental health. It's what music therapists like New York City-based private practitioner David Marcus refer to as an "affirmative experience."

"K-pop has been an escape, something that's changed my life for the better. So to see companies and artists find new and exciting ways to make fans feel seen and appreciated is really special."

But can that experience be replicated over video-streaming platforms? Yes and no. "One of the things you can do at a concert is sing along and shout things out, where your actions might have an impact," Grahn says. Those actions will also influence the people around you. Think about it: Have you ever started cheering because the person next to you was? Or chanting your favorite artist's name in your section to get their attention? Human connection is an essential aspect of concert-going.

For SHINee and Taemin superfan Alyssa Gecosala, Beyond LIVE mimicked that sense of community as best as the technology allowed. Fans were frequently unmuted in an effort to recreate the buzz of a live event. Members of the audience also had a separate chat room on the platform where they could all communicate in real time, which became especially vital for translations. "One of the [[[SuperM]]] members would be talking, and we'd put in the chat, 'Hey, what did they say?' And someone in the chat would translate it immediately," the 27-year-old from Chicago says. By the end of the show "no one really wanted to leave the video call."

"We were exchanging contact information and Twitter handles," she says. "I started following Allison."

Yet, by watching something through a screen, live or not, Marcus says there's still a level of social detachment that affects your overall experience as a fan. In other words, Beyond LIVE may give you a closer-than-barricade view in 1080p ("I love that I could see their pores and their sweat," Alyssa smiles), but it doesn't emit the same kind of emotional and physical rush. "It felt pretty solitary to me," Rocky says. "Fandom is a lot more tangible at an actual concert."

So much of K-pop fandom is experienced online that moments where artists and fans can come together feel especially vital. But, as Allison reasons, this is our new normal, at least for now. "This is a virus," she says. "It's not going away anytime soon. I don't think it's going to be safe to get together for concerts, so this might be the way to still have that fan connection."

For fans like Brooke, who won't be seeing NCT 127 this summer as planned (On May 15, NCT 127 officially announced the cancelation of their North American tour), Beyond LIVE has been a beacon of light in otherwise uncertain times. "K-pop has been an escape, something that's changed my life for the better," she says. "So to see companies and artists find new and exciting ways to make fans feel seen and appreciated is really special."

During this unprecedented and extended period of isolation, feeling seen is all any of us want, even if that acknowledgement comes from a face thousands of miles away through a screen with a spotty Wi-Fi connection. And as the industry starts to weather a summer without traditional live events, the Beyond LIVE model will serve as a blueprint — a premium online concert that engages fans in real time and drives concrete results via Twitter trends, digital song streams, and merch sales. In June, KCON, an annual convention-meets-concert that brings K-pop artists and Asian pop culture to cities worldwide, will follow SM's lead with their own interactive online event: KCON:TACT 2020 SUMMER. The week-long global YouTube stream, hosted on Mnet's channel, will mix live performances from Seoul with pre-taped content, influencer panels, and virtual meet and greet sessions with the artists themselves. Of course, the interaction will come at a cost: The event will combine ticketed and free elements. Also in June? Bang Bang Con The Live, a pay-per-view live stream that will connect hitmakers BTS to hundreds of thousands of fans from around the world for 90 minutes of intimate performances to celebrate their seventh anniversary. ARMY are already eagerly awaiting the arrival of their special edition ARMY Bombs, counting down the days until tickets are available for pre-order on June 1. The excitement on social media is palpable, and the world is slowly starting to turn again.

"Nothing is going to replace the live experience," Lee says. "URL cannot replace IRL." But a successful integration of the two? Now, that's the future.

*This story has been updated to include NCT 127's concert cancelation announcement.*

## TXT’s Yeonjun Is Making His NYFW Debut

He is joined by WayV’s YangYang and soloist BIBI.

BY AAMINA KHAN

FEBRUARY 16, 2021

View complete article on Teen Vogue

K-pop’s fourth-generation "It" boy – aka. TXT’s Yeonjun – never stops. Announced earlier today, February 16, the eldest of TOMORROW X TOGETHER is making his official debut on New York Fashion Week.

Per Soompi, Yeonjun is making his fashion week debuts as part of the virtual presentation for Concept Korea’s FW21, which is on the official NYFW: The Shows calendar. The show is a collaboration between three Korean fashion labels: WNDERKAMMER by designer Shin Hye Young, ul:kin by designer Lee Seong Dong, and Jarret by designer Lee Ji-Yeon. According to the show's poster, the presentation is organized by the Ministry of Culture, Sports, and Tourism of the Republic of Korea (MCST) and the Korea Creative Content Agency (KOCCA) and aims to support Korean designers hoping to break into the American fashion market.

MCST and KOCCA made the clever move to tap popular rising artists in the Korean music industry to walk the show. In addition to Yeonjun, WayV’s YangYang and soloist BIBI will also be taking part in the virtual presentation. Yeonjun and BIBI will be repping ul:kin and YangYang will be walking for Jarret.

ul:kin released promo images ahead of their presentation, featuring Yeonjun and BIBI dressed in all black, giving off a moody energy. Yeonjun wears a black pinstripe trench coat and a striking silver earring in one look, and a black leather blazer and t-shirt with silver hardware jewelry in another. BIBI is dressed in a waxy, black trench coat and a latex turtleneck with dark, animal-print pants. Jarret also posted a preview of YangYang's appearance on its IG account.

The full event will be available to stream tonight, February 16, on NYFW’s website, at 8:30 p.m. EST. All we can say is, Concept Korea, you have our undivided attention.

## Ten Lee Talks Art, Dance, and His New Represent Clothing Collection

"So what is the right answer for me? What do I have to do to really be the person I want to be? But then I realized that there's no right or wrong.”

BY P. CLAIRE DODSON

JULY 8, 2021

View complete article on Teen Vogue

A few days ago, musician and dancer Ten Lee — known for his work in K-pop groups such as NCT and SuperM, and the Chinese group WayV — shared a video of himself freediving in a deep pool. As Billie Eilish croons the opening to “idontwannabeyouanymore,” he launches into a somersault before swan diving easily onto his back, legs fluttering, arms outstretched, a mermaid embracing the open water.

The reason for the dive is a bit of a secret, he tells Teen Vogue, but not one necessarily related to forthcoming music with the groups he’s in. Rather, it’s one way he’s following his own artistic instincts. If he looks like he’s dancing underwater, that’s because he is, bringing to life a picture of a dance move that previously existed only in his head. “I have all these thoughts in my brain right now,” he says, “but I had to make it real.”

Though he floats seamlessly into different combinations of performers onstage, whether as part of the sensual WayV or the chaotic NCT or the maximalist SuperM, Ten has a fluidity and spirit all his own — especially in dance, where he thrives. Born Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul in Bangkok, Thailand, he joined SM Entertainment in 2013, debuting as part of NCT U in 2016. A turning point came in 2017, when he released his first solo single “Dream in a Dream,” a lovely, imaginative ballad that melds traditional East Asian instrumentals with woozy ambient pop, and has mesmerizing choreography to match. It was the first time he talked to the choreographers he worked with and shared his ideas of what he wanted to try. “I realized why all the hyungs sometimes like doing their own stuff,” he says. “It's because you’re putting your ideas in your own work.”

Now, he’s on the cusp of another turning point: earlier this month, he launched a clothing collection with Represent that features all of his original designs. Longtime Ten fans will know he’s into visual art, sharing regal sketches of his cats Leon and Louis and emotive, detailed doodles on his Instagram. (Fun fact: he toyed with the idea of designing cat clothes, but was concerned about how cats would clean themselves.) The new collection shows off his skill, of course, but it’s also a representation of his creative ethos, and who he wants to be as a person.

Titled “What is ??? THE ANSWERS,” the designs are explosive and bright, with symbols and metaphors galore. He draws various eyes, entranced by the way they show happiness, embarrassment, fear, the things people try to hide. In one design, he uses a cross, which has a double meaning: it’s the Chinese character for the number “10” and also a plus sign, representing the growth and potential he sees in himself.

Ten had long wanted to create a clothing brand, and when Represent approached him, he saw an opportunity to try something of his own. As a kid in Bangkok, he’d taken art lessons at the behest of his mom, who believed that studying art would help boost his IQ and improve his education as a whole. He didn’t really like it at the time, until he took the Cambridge IGCSE exam and tested highly in, you guessed it, art. “I was like, ‘Okay, I like art,’” Ten laughs. “Then I started drawing and trying to develop my own style.” Now, he turns to drawing when he’s feeling “negative energy,” like “when you're down or when you feel sad or when you feel like you're not good enough for something.” Drawing is a source of solace, and it also helps him focus and find clarity on more existential matters.

On Instagram, he wrote of the collection, “What inspires me to create these art pieces is to remind myself that there are no actual answers in what we do. I feel like we are creating all the rules and pressure ourselves with the word ‘standards.’ Who defines the standards of what is acceptable or not + what is right or not + what is enough or not??? The boundaries we draw might limit us from creating something we never knew were capable of.”

When he expands upon that Instagram artist statement, it’s with an interesting visual. “People try to make lines on you,” he says. It calls to mind something like Leonardo da Vinci’s Vitruvian Man, a representation of perfect proportions and clean, graphed segments. An idealized image that hardly ever exists.

“I was thinking about my own stuff, the things I have to do to get what I want, like my goals. And, what people said to me, maybe about [my] appearance or about the skills that I had, or my personality, and they told me to change this, do this. I realized that they're just making their own lines on me. So what is the right answer for me? What do I have to do to really be the person I want to be? But then I realized that there's no right or wrong.”

He connects his drawing to his dancing in one word: freedom. Both allow him to lose himself in the moment of creating something real and personal. But in art, it doesn’t matter so much about finding the right answer, or unifying perfectly with other people the way a highly choreographed dance requires.

“Art is more of an individual pleasure,” he says. “If Mark [Lee, his bandmate] is next to me, and I say like, ‘Hey Mark, do you think that clothing is nice?’ He might say no, but for me it was, ‘Wow, that clothing looks so beautiful.’”

Ten might be homed in on individual artistic expression at the moment, but that doesn't mean that's his sole focus. He also yearns for the day SuperM can reunite after members Baekhyun and Taemin return from their military service. “I will fight for that," he says. "We had so much fun touring and then working with all the hyungs. I hope there's a new project for SuperM to work on once everyone is back."

## References

1. ↑ https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Teen\_Vogue
2. ↑ https://www.teenvogue.com/story/meet-super-m-k-pop-superstars-one-big-family
3. ↑ https://www.teenvogue.com/story/wayv-profile-chinese-pop-group-fanboying-shrek-future-interview
4. ↑ https://www.teenvogue.com/story/k-pop-future-of-live-music-immersive-online-concerts
5. ↑ https://www.teenvogue.com/story/txt-yeonjun-nyfw-debut