NEWARK — The tears began as soon as Teen Top waved hello.
The Korean pop group was here on Saturday for the East Coast debut of KCON, a one-day festival for all things hallyu, the Korean wave of culture sweeping into the West. Teen Top and three other groups were set to perform at the Prudential Center that night, and throughout the day bands greeted fans, or, in the case of Teen Top, gave them a chance to say hello with a high-five.
Michaela McDonald, a 21-year-old student from Long Island, was one of the fans in line for high-fives. A week earlier, she had been in Los Angeles for KCON there, which began in 2012 and has been growing ever since. Ms. McDonald, who is white, had her hair dyed blond and styled in a manner popular among K-pop stars (thinkJustin Bieber circa 2009). A soft white powder coated her face. She, like many other fans at KCON, was dressed to mirror the artists she loved.
As Ms. McDonald crossed the stage to high-five Teen Top’s six stars, audience members screamed from the floor. One young woman wiped a tear with one hand while using the other to hold up her selfie stick like a periscope to see the band above raised hands.
K-pop superfans, who often find one another and keep in touch online, were taking advantage of a rare opportunity to meet in person and see Korean bands that rarely tour the United States. For the fans, obsession with the music weaves its way into everyday life, influencing what they watch, wear and even eat. Superfans closely follow Korean television dramas and may also use the same beauty products as the stars, or learn to cook Korean food.
“These people are more passionate than Bieber fans,” said Angela Killoren, marketing chief for the American arm of the Asian media company CJ E&M, which put on the convention. Adopting the culture, said Heather Co, a 21-year-old student from Chicago, is “a way of getting closer to the artists.” She was at the front of the line to get into the general-admission area of Saturday’s concert, along with a group of other young people who had been waiting together starting at 2 a.m. the morning before.
Carolina Barbosa, a 22-year-old student from Pratt Institute, was also in line and said she feels closer to K-pop stars by using the same beauty products. As she said that, Charlotte Cho, who runs a Korean beauty blog called The Klog, was nearby leading a demonstration of Korean cleansers and makeup. The products’ ties to specific stars were emphasized. A cranberry facial cleanser, for example, was billed as having been used by Song Ji-hyo, an actress on a TV variety show called “Running Man.”
The fans in Newark also discussed their favorite Korean shows, whose popularity has spawned a dedicated streaming service, DramaFever, which is widely available. Early online videos were pirated, with crowd-sourced, fan-made subtitles. DramaFever puts professionally subtitled Korean dramas online within 24 hours of their airing in Asia. “We’re like the Netflix for international content,” said Yale Wang, the company’s head of marketing.
K-pop stars also appear in many of the television shows, which creates a natural draw for fans who want to spend even more time with their favorite singers on screen.
DramaFever’s average user spends 53.9 hours per month streaming videos, compared with 10.7 hours for Netflix users, according to the company’s data. Its audience is 85 percent non-Asian, and mostly women ages 18 to 24.
That demographic information is in line with KCON’s audience: Of the people who preregistered, 70.1 percent were women, and 68.8 percent were younger than 24, organizers said.
Ms. Barbosa said it was difficult to tell just how many hours each week she dedicates to K-pop. There was time spent with music and TV shows, but she also checks Twitter often throughout the day for updates on bands and from friends, some of whom were in line with her on Saturday.
One of those friends, a 19-year-old student named Alex Vongkhamheuang, said that he knows many other K-pop fans not by their names but by their Twitter handles. Referring to a moment earlier in the day, he said: “I was talking to someone, and I thought he was a stranger. Then I saw his user name pinned to his shirt and I realized, ‘Oh, I know you.’ ”
Fans will also watch YouTube videos of one another reacting to K-pop music videos or attempting to recreate choreography from their favorite bands. Before Saturday night’s concert, there was a talent show in which six groups performed their dance covers live.
But for many of these fans, nothing compares to seeing their favorite K-pop stars in person. “It’s not every day you can do this,” Ms. Co said. “You can’t just go to Asia.”
At the artist appearances, there was little the pop stars needed to do to bring out the audience’s excitement and elicit deafening cheers. When the group AOA accepted a couple of questions from the crowd, an 18-year-old named Jonathan Corman, through a translator, asked one of the singers, Choa, to sing the “Choa song.” She did, and the crowd wailed.
Afterward, Mr. Corman — a spiky-haired recent high school graduate from Anaheim, Calif. — looked awe-struck. The week before, he had been at KCON in Los Angeles, but this moment was unprecedented for him.
“Choa is my favorite,” he said. His eyes widened as he flipped through photos of her he had just taken. “I’m overjoyed. Ecstatic.”
