SEOUL, July 21 (Yonhap) -- At a bustling exhibition hall in Busan, an 83-year-old artisan sits cross-legged, repeatedly shaving the surface of boiled bamboo sticks to make them into paper-thin strips -- working on a craft that has outlived the world that once sustained it.

Master traditional Korean hat-maker Park Chang-yeong demonstrated his craft before visitors Tuesday, with his hands steady from decades of repetition on a raised platform designed to resemble a traditional workshop inside the "K-Heritage House" at the Busan Exhibition and Convention Center in Busan, about 330 kilometers southeast of Seoul.

Sitting next to him, his 50-year-old son Park Hyung-bak, who is the fifth-generation heir to the family business, presses heated irons onto delicate strands, assembling the cylindrical crown of a "gat."

South Korea opened a national pavilion Monday to showcase its cultural heritage and international preservation efforts. The pavilion serves as a side event for the 48th session of the World Heritage Committee, which the country is hosting for the first time since signing the World Heritage Convention in 1988. Park Chang-yeong was one of the several recognized masters who gave a public demonstration of their skills for the day in the "Living Heritage X ICH" showcase, co-organized by the Korea Heritage Service and the Korea Heritage Agency.

The demonstration offers a rare glimpse into "gat-il," the intricate process of crafting the translucent black hats once worn by men of Joseon Dynasty (1392-1910).

Recognized traditional Korean hat-maker Park Chang-yeong poses for a photo before an interview with Yonhap News Agency at the Busan Exhibition and Convention Center in Busan, about 330 kilometers southeast of Seoul, on July 21, 2026. (Yonhap)

Despite a recent surge in attention after it was worn by Saja Boys, the fictional K-pop boy group in the Netflix global hit animation "KPop Demon Hunters," the craft itself teeters on the brink.

"Popularity is at its peak," Park said. "But we are too busy to take on small decorative orders, and even then, it does not translate into stable income because our pieces are made entirely by hand. Machine-made versions are much cheaper, so there is no way to compete with them."

A single bamboo hat can take a week to produce, and more elaborate pieces, like those modeled on 17th-18th century designs can take up to a year, according to Park.

"Those are not something you can put a price on," he said, pointing to a finely woven black "gat" on display at the front of the booth.

Gat-making has long relied on specialization. The brim, or "yangtae," spreads like a vinyl record, while the crown -- either made of horsehair or finely split bamboo -- is assembled separately before being lacquered into a finished piece. Park, designated in 2000 as a National Intangible Cultural Heritage skill holder, belongs to a shrinking group of artisans responsible for final assembly, known as "ipjajang."

Only four such gat-making masters remain in the country, and just two, including Park, complete the entire hat.

Recognized traditional Korean hat-maker Park Chang-yeong demonstrates his craftsmanship at the Busan Exhibition and Convention Center in Busan, about 330 kilometers southeast of Seoul, on July 21, 2026. (Yonhap)

"In the past, everything was already divided by role," his son said. "If one person tried to do it all, it would not make economic sense."

The economics have worsened over time. When Park began learning the trade in 1960 in his hometown of Yecheon, 200 kilometers southeast of Seoul -- once a hub of "gat" production -- demand was strong and prices high. A single gat could fetch the equivalent of five sacks of rice. Today, he said, orders are sporadic, mostly limited to traditional musicians or state commissions.

Even so, the process remains painstakingly unchanged. Bamboo must be shaved, split and drawn into threads by hand -- something his son says machines cannot replicate.

"You shave it until it is as thin as paper, then split the grain with a slight cut," Park Hyung-bak explained. "When you pull it by hand, the fibers come out. This cannot be mechanized."

For visitors, witnessing this intricate labor firsthand leaves a lasting impression.

"It is truly fascinating to see the actual manufacturing process right before my eyes," said Kim Ga-ram, a resident in her 30s from Busan who visited the booth with her 10-year-old son. "I had no idea the threads were extracted from bamboo strips one by one."

Recognized traditional Korean hat-maker Park Chang-yeong and his son Park Hyung-bak demonstrate their craftsmanship at the Busan Exhibition and Convention Center in Busan, about 330 kilometers southeast of Seoul, on July 21, 2026. (Yonhap)

Park Chang-yeong moved to Seoul in 1978 in search of new markets, knocking on the doors of broadcasters with samples of his work. His persistence paid off: his hats appeared in many period films and television dramas, including "Untold Scandal" (2003), "Empress Myeongseong" (2001-2002) and "Jang Heebin" (2002-2003).

But large-scale demand never followed. While historical productions still commission pieces, and interest has grown with the global rise of Korean cultural content, Park says the craft has shifted from a livelihood to something closer to a calling.

Now based in Gwangmyeong, just outside Seoul, Park continues to work daily -- often from morning to evening -- pausing only briefly for meals. After more than 60 years, he says the posture and rhythm of the craft are ingrained. "Younger people cannot sit like this even for two hours," he said.

Apprentices have come and gone, deterred by the physical demands and uncertain income, he says. "They cannot endure it, so the lineage breaks." For now, his son helps once or twice a week, though he maintains a separate job.

Much of Park's time is spent not on finished hats but on preparing the components -- splitting bamboo, shaping brims and assembling crown parts -- before final construction can even begin. The layered process underscores why scaling up production is nearly impossible.

His goal, he said, is simple: to ensure the craft survives beyond him.

"At my age, the priority is that this lineage does not disappear," Park said. "We need more successors, more nationally recognized artisans. With the current numbers, it is not enough."