Landing at North Korea's Pyongyang International Airport to cover the two-day visit by the New York Philharmonic, we did not know what to expect. Myself, and Reuters TV cameraman Anil Ekmecic, had never been to Korea before, and what must be a fairly unusual experience, we could now say we traveled to Korea via the reclusive North first.

As we touched down, both Anil and I, along with text journalist Jon Herskovitz, the feeling was of intense anticipation of the unknown in a visual sense. The first sight was a welcoming party, consisting of some 10 uniformed North Korean soldiers and more than 60 well-attired officials. All looking tense. Then what happened next must have been a rather unusual sight for North Korea - a media scrum. The traveling press of which we were a part of, consisted of approximately 60 journalists, 20 television cameraman and 10 photographers. But then what we hadn't counted on was the local media, who appeared from nowhere, and were definitely not used to having to worry about getting in other people's viewfinders, let alone being told to "get outta the way, Man".

After the official group photograph of the orchestra had finished, we were introduced to our ‘guides' for the two-day visit, and shuffled into buses. These friendly yet intimidating officials stated that they all were named "Kim" and they would be more than happy to accommodate our every need.

The convoy then started out to our hotel, about a 45 minute ride into town. At first we were expecting to have to sneak a few photographs and footage as we had been told on all previous official tours was the case, but all of us were pleasantly surprised when no orders to lower our cameras were given. So through thick, badly scratched and tinted windows, we recorded what we saw. A bleak and gray landscape covered in snow, dotted with run-down dilapidated buildings, the occasional car (usually an early 80's model Mercedes), horse-drawn carts, and many many weary-looking people. Some were collecting firewood, while others were just aimlessly walking or standing by the road.

Then we entered the city itself. The gray and run-down apartment blocks were a stark contrast from the colorful propaganda posters lining the streets. One poster in particular caught the eye of the travelling press - a fist smashing into the head of an American soldier.
After checking into our comfortable five-star hotel (believe me, it wasn't bad, but no five-star), we were taken to watch a performance by a traditional singing and dancing group that was quite beautiful. But the lavishness and quantity of food laid on at the dinner after was not. I could not bring myself to eat such food in a country where people were so hungry as evidenced by the skinny faces we had seen just a few hours before along the side of the road. The breakfast the next morning was even more extravagant, with an ice sculpture surrounded by food that the lovely traditionally dressed waitresses would surely have never seen before in their lives.

Next, we were herded into buses for a "city tour" that proved quite interesting but not all beneficial at showing real life in Pyongyang. We started at the massive bronze statue of ‘Dear Leader' Kim Jung-il, which we were politely told we could only photograph ‘full length', and made clear with a ‘make sure you do as I will check that you have Mr Gray'. Next was the city library, in which we all became very suspicious after being shown a room of some 40 brand new computers, all being used, and by people who we were told we could interview with ‘no problem at all'. And when Anil tried to film in a certain direction, and was promptly told he could not, he seemed to have made a very good friend for the rest of his time in North Korea.

But when we got to the next location, it provided me with my most distinct memory of the entire trip. We were taken to a subway station and ushered onto an 80-meter-long escalator, and while we were traveling down, coming up the other side were ordinary commuters. Their appearance to me was of complete helplessness, all passing slowly as if in a trance, heads bowed, staring blankly, faces unmoved. The best description is a factory conveyor-belt. The beautiful murals adorning the station seemed to become quite horrifying with their messages that all citizens exist to work for the state.

That night, the concert was without doubt beautiful and gave the elite members of Pyongyang society enjoyment. But to hear such gorgeous music in such a bleak environment did seem somewhat out of place.

The next day, our final tour site was an elite talent school for young children, involving performances of singing, gymnastics and dance. What was on stage was both amazing, and scary, with the level of talent leaving you breathless and wondering how long they must have rehearsed.

But what was even more amazing was the audience. Hundreds of students sitting with their eyes lowered, hands on their laps, no talking, no smiling, no giggling, no moving, until someone in charge started the applause. It was as if they also had been training for their performance. A sad moment happened as Anil was leaving and caught a shy glance from a young girl in the crowd. Just the fact that she was able to offer a slight smile and nod of recognition in an otherwise robotic environment gave him and myself hope that change might just be possible.

Once on the plane, after numerous photos on the tarmac for prosperity with our new ‘friends', a wave of euphoria swept through the plane with the knowledge that being constantly observed and studied was finally over.
My personal impression of this experience - a sense of amazement that you can enter a George Orwell novel and come out the other side, especially when that novel is titled ‘1984'!

(To view an audio slideshow of David's experience in North Korea click here. The audio is from the New York Philharmonic orchestra's performance in Pyongyang where they began their show with a rendition of the Star Spangled Banner.)

By Jon Herskovitz

Being the leader of one of the world ’s most paranoid states can make a person, well,  paranoid. So when guests to the New York Philharmonic ’s concert in Pyongyang arrived to very little security, it was obvious that North Korean leader Kim Jong-il wouldn’t be attending.

Foreign aid workers based in Pyongyang said that when they have attended an event where  the Dear Leader, as he is called in state media, does appear, the North ’s massive security is  very evident. Guards check all people attending, make sure no one has cameras or gets anywhere near the world’s first communist dynastic ruler unless they have been  vetted well in advance.

The audience made up of Pyongyang ’s elite last night seemed to genuinely enjoy the show. And the New York Philharmonic members said afterwards they could feel the energy coming from the crowd.

Many of the North Koreans were tapping their feet along to the music. 

The event was broadcast live in South Korea  from a mobile broadcasting centre from Seoul to Pyongyang. According to one of the TV crew outside the concert hall during the event, the streets of Pyongyang were empty, as everyone was at home watching it on television. You see, living in Pyongyang is a privilege for North Koreans, and those who make it to the capital are affluent enough to own televisions.

One hotel worker told me:  ”I watched the concert with my family last night. It was wonderful. ”

Jon Herskovitz is a Reuters correspondent based in Seoul.

Pictures by David Gray of Reuters 

By Jon Herskovitz 

What a way to start my first full day in Pyongyang. Our breakfast spread was amazing. It was a lavish affair with ice sculptures, more types of cereal than can be found at Kellogg’s, two fancy espresso makers and a lot of North Koreans hovering nearby. I had myself a ham omelet and a nice cup of coffee. There wasn’t a Starbucks in sight!

 Yesterday, we took the first of the trilogy. A plane. Today, it was trains and automobiles. I spotted this car sputtering through the streets of Pyongyang. It looks like it hails back to the Soviet era.

We were also taken for a ride on the Pyongyang subway. It was for one stop, and we were told it cost one euro. Strangely, none of the locals seemed to be carrying any euros! One of the carriages carried portraits of Kim Il-sung and Kim Jong-il.

Jon Herskovitz is a Reuters correspondent based in Seoul.

By Jon Herskovitz, on the road with the New York Philharmonic

Welcome to North Korea. Do you have any killing devices?

I do not, but North Koreans certainly want to know. It’s on the customs form. Visitors to one of the world’s most isolated states are asked to tick a box if they are carrying: weapons, ammunition, explosives, and killing devices. Other no-nos include “exciters” and poison.

Oh yes, and mobile phones. Your mobile phone is collected before stepping on the plane to North Korea and returned once you’ve left the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea, as the North prefers to call itself. That rule puts visitors on an equal footing with locals for most of whom these are also illicit possessions.

Also, please do not bring in “historical or cultural wealth”. I wonder if anybody in the New York Philharmonic checked that box?

Arriving at Pyongyang airport is chaotic. People stepping off the 747 that took about 350 people from Beijing to Pyongyang were more interested in snapping photos than forming orderly groups. North Korean minders searched through the crowd to try to find the people they were assigned to look after for the next few days. The orchestra eventually posed for a group picture in front of the plane. Ten minutes should have been enough to arrange it. In the end, it took almost an hour.

By the way, North Korean officials never did take our declaration cards.

We were herded into buses waiting on the tarmac to take us to Pyongyang’s five-star hotel for foreigners, the Yangakkdo. But they are tiny, tiny stars. It is clean but ageing fast, stately but poorly lit. Staff are courteous but keep a close eye on what the foreign guests are up to. After all, North Korea receives top ratings for being a paranoid state.

Welcome to the land of Juche, a concept which focuses on self-reliance. Analysts say the government long ago gave up trying to convince its masses that it is an economic power. Instead, they say, its official media portrays the state as the dignified keepers of true Korean culture. That is a sentiment which comes through loud and clear when the New York Philharmonic and its entourage visit a performance of traditional Korean song and dance.

An announcer tells the crowd that the performance expresses the beauty and noble sentiment of the Korean people.  The performances were wonderful, with many orchestra members singing their praises. But they also had an other-worldliness to them. The staging looks more suited to a 1950s Technicolor musical from Hollywood. Performers wear traditional garb of vibrant colours. With their heads tilted upwards, the performers wore fixed smiles, their gaze focused at points well above the audience.

Isolated and poor, North Korea must make do with what it has. Musicians play ageing instruments. The marble floors of the grand entrance foyers of the concert hall appear to be made from a type of plastic.

Juche, or self-reliance, slogans are everywhere in the city. The Tower of the Juche Ideal is one of the few structures lit at night and written in big, red neon letters outside the hall where North Korean officials host a banquet for the Philharmonic. The slogan? “Long Live the Juche Ideal”, of course.      

Jon Herskovitz is a Reuters correspondent based in Seoul.

Pictures from top: North Korean soldiers look on as members of the New York Philharmonic pose for a group photograph after arriving in Pyongyang. Lorin Maazel (L), Music Director, talks with the media. Members of the New York Philharmonic pose for a group photograph. A woman carries a guitar as she rides on the back of a bicycle across a field on the outskirts of Pyongyang. North Korean performers at the show at the Mansudae Art Theatre in Pyongyang. Photos by David Gray/ Reuters

By John Herskovitz 

North Korea may be suffering from a chronic food shortage but that did not stop the impoverished state from throwing a lavish dinner reception for the New York Philharmonic for their first night in Pyongyang.

When visitors arrived at the banquet hall, they saw tables were covered in fancy dishes, bottles of booze and even a chocolate cake that had the word “opera” written in the icing. The main dish was a selection of cold meats and baby corn that was described as a “floral basket-shaped turkey”. 

Waiters in white dinner jackets and bow ties served dishes that included roast salmon, roast mutton, lady crab au gratin, a peasant’s soup and fried rice.

The high-powered local wines, beers and and ginseng liquor served up also left a few diners loopy.

Seoul correspondent Jon Herskovitz is travelling with the NY Philharmonic

PICTURES: My dinner! And at right, traditional North Korean performer dances during a show at the Mansudae Art Theatre in the North Korean capital of Pyongyang for the members of the New York Philharmonic.

    Reuters correspondent Jon Herskovitz goes behind the scenes to look at the greatest U.S. show ever to hit one of the world’s most isolated countries, North Korea.

    North Korean leader Kim Jong-il, according to state media, rarely misses a chance to see Russian dancing girls when they make their rare trips to his reclusive country. But will he be interested in seeing the oldest U.S. orchestra?

    One of the biggest questions surrounding the unprecedented concert on Tuesday by the New York Philharmonic is whether the portly leader — portrayed in state propaganda as a masterful composer of revolutionary opera — will take a chair to listen the music of Gershwin, Dvorak and Wagner.

    Philharmonic spokesman Eric Latzky says no formal invitation has been extended by the orchestra to Kim.

    The North’s official media is likely to portray the concert as an overture by arch-enemy the United States to pay homage to Kim instead of as a mission to promote goodwill, analysts say.

    “It’s kind of a win-win for Kim Jong-il. If he attends, they are playing for him. If he stays away, then he is snubbing them. If he turns up late, he could have it both ways,” says Brian Myers, a specialist in the workings of the North’s propaganda.

    Western Invasion

    North Korea will host the largest contingent of journalists from the Western media when a group of about 80 flies to Pyongyang to cover the concert.

    The isolated country has little experience in setting up an international media centre and has been known to send its citizens to political prisons for trying to contact people outside of its borders.

    But it is trying.

    Foreign media will be able to use mobile phones provided by the North. It is illegal for North Koreans to have them. Foreign media can freely use international telephone lines and the Internet, both of which are banned to North Korea citizens.

    “The quantity and perhaps the quality of it (broadband Internet access) is possibly unprecedented there,” Latzky said.

    But both foreign media and North Korean citizens will likely be in the same boat because North Korean agents almost always listen into any international call, according to South Korean intelligence sources.

    A tale of two theatres

    In the capital of newly rich, communist China, the New York Philharmonic played at a recently opened, futuristic structure featuring state of the art acoustics. In still desperately poor, communist North Korea, it will play at a hulking, ramshackle structure the locals struggle to keep heated and lit at night.

 The two concert halls show just how far communist allies China and North Korea have diverged after Beijing decided years ago to try openness and market economies while Pyongyang selected isolation.

    Beijing’s National Grand Theatre is a huge glass oval seemingly floating on a pond that surrounds it and was designed by French architect Paul Andreu.

    The building, opened only a few months ago and nicknamed “the egg”, stands in sharp contrast to the communist monoliths such as the 1950s Soviet-style Great Hall of the People and Beijing’s ancient Forbidden City for its emperor that sit nearby.

    New York Philharmonic officials were bowled over by the new facility.

    In Pyongyang, the Philharmonic will be playing East Pyongyang Grand Theatre in central Pyongyang, a bland communist building that mostly hosts propaganda performances in support of North Korea’s leaders as well as the occasional visit by Russian dancing girls.

    Earlier this month, North Korean musicians played a symphony at the hall called “Long Journey for Songun (military first) Leadership” and a soprano sang a number praising the glory of collective farming.

    But North Korea has made an enormous effort to bring the venue up to standard by installing an acoustic shelf for the New York Philharmonic’s performance on Tuesday.

    “The theatre, which underwent a formative and artistic renovation last year to meet the requirements of the new century, has all necessary facilities as an edifice of culture,” the North’s official KCNA news agency says.

Editor adds: The tour to North has prompted heated debate within the United States and beyond. In the WSJ, conductor Lorin Maazel  says that the arts, per se, and their exponents, artists, have a broader role to play in the public arena. In the same paper, BR Myers argues the tour will only serve to allow the North’s propaganda machine to hail it as a tributary visit to the iron-willed “General.”

Pictures (from top): Kim Jong-il; North Korean Ambassador to the United Nations Pak Gil Yon (R) and New York Philharmonic President and Executive Director Zarin Mehta; Maestro Lorin Maazel who will lead the New York Philharmonic; and Kim at work.

    (Jon Herskovitz is a Reuters correspondent based in Seoul. He is travelling with the New York Philharmonic to the North.)