there is no excuse — no excuse — for a President who not only presumes that 85% of this country are the same kind of Catholic; he also then thinks that this is a valid enough reason to gauge public anger. no excuse for a President who is as bad as Vic de Leon Lima. let me not begin with the fact that his own father died for democracy and freedom, the same things that this President has sacrificed here. and you are wrong, Ser Noy, this is not a question of whether or not freedom is absolute; it’s a question of you folding to the CBCP and Pinoy conservatives, who in this country have proven themselves as bad as the kukluxklan. this is about you — and everybody else who sacrificed critical thinking in this case — revealing whose got the balls. and it is apparently all them priests and conservatives who could only zero in on those penises, because that’s all that was in that exhibit as far as they were concerned.
except that there were these works:
Alfredo Esquillo Jr.'s Mama Kinley IIRonald Ventura's UntitledJose Tence Ruiz's CSI Chimoy Si ImbisibolJose Tence Ruiz's CSI Chimoy Si ImbisibolCon Cabrera's Kompo
Andres Barrioquinto's Alam ng DiosRai Cruz's SalinlahiConstantino Zicarelli's VandalismIggy Rodriguez's PagbabantaJoseph de Luna Saguid's Kulo (excerpt)Mark Salvatus' Empire
been living under a rock, or just in the midst of book production and thesis writing, that i only realized people were finally angry with Bench for their darn sexy ads when the Philippine Volcanoes’ images (the National Rugby Team for you) were removed from the Guadalupe northbound stretch of billboards. Now know that on this stretch I have seen too much of Kris Aquino, strangely photoshopped Calayan beauty clients, and recently fully-clad Bench boys doing pretend-dancing, that when i saw photos online of the Philippine Volcanoes’ billboards i was overwhelmed with regret: why oh why did i NOT see that when it was up?
yes i am exaggerating (sort of), because really, from afar (and i mean zoomed out on my computer screen) those billboards looked no different from the other fictional men i’ve seen top naked, o sige na nga, bottom na rin kung naka-brip lang. i mean at this point we’ve seen them all topless: Piolo, Dingdong, Aljur, Derek, and the question could only be: what was wrong with the Volcanoes? or the Azkals for that matter. before the uproar, there was that Century Tuna billboard of Phil Younghusband, topless; and the Ally Borromeo billboard on southbound Guadalupe, about which all i thought was: baket naka-pucker ang lips ni kuya?
Aly Borromeo with puckered lips.
but the straight men in government weren’t looking at these men’s faces, and for the Philippine Volcanoes it was their lower halves that was reason for offense. when i say straight men i mean Mandaluyong Mayor Benhur Abalos, Valenzuela Mayor Sherwin Gatchalian who covered his nieces’ eyes when they passed through EDSA lest they see the men in briefs, as well as MMDA chair Francis Tolentino. which does beg the question: bakit ngayon lang? not even related to all the skimpily-clad women in billboards, but in the context of all those other men we’ve seen in briefs before?
ah, the truth of the matter is in MMDA assistant general manager for planning Tina Velasco’s words:
bulging crotches! voluptuousness! the straight men in government might not have wanted to articulate it, but they knew of it enough to take offense. and in which case it seems that they don’t mind bulging (augmented and otherwise) boobs, or the woman’s crotch since walang bulge ‘yon? they don’t mind women’s and men’s come-hither looks no matter how voluptuous, as long as walang bulge? got it.
kapag side view, o likod, ni Michael de Guzman, ok lang?
that this reeks of gender politics is the foregone conclusion, but the more important assessment has to take into consideration the gay gaze, the one that the liberated men of the Philippine Volcanoes and the Azkals, and every metrosexual man in between, have ceased to mind. if all i saw in the Borromeo billboard were his puckered lips, and if all i thought when i finally saw those boys of the Volcanoes in their underwear is: ang babata naman ng mga ito! then i obviously ain’t its market, as it might be every kafatid, vekz, vekla who passes through EDSA.
they're just boys!
call me a girl but i will swoon at a man’s eyes on a billboard (Derek Ramsey’s), and his moreno smile (Jericho Rosales’), and his silliness (John Lloyd Cruz) fully clothed as he might be. kebz sa kung may abs siya o wala.
oh, but Mayor Gatchalian insists that his goal is to:
sige sir, lagpasan ko muna ang paggamit mo ng salitang irregardless, i want to know if you cover your nieces’ eyes when you pass billboards of skin whitening products and boob jobs. no seriously, sir. because that is our little girls’ enemies if the goal is to bring them up confident in themselves, with as little superificiality as possible, comfortable in their own skins. whitening in the land of morena skin, beauty clinics in the the third world? that is what’s ultimately problematic about our billboards; celebrities who are white to begin with selling whitening products? that is the lie little girls will grow up believing.
at least with a real man’s body on a billboard — bulge and all — they won’t grow up afraid of the crotch. unless those are the kinds of little girls we want to bring up: afraid of men, afraid of her own brown skin, afraid of being themselves? que horror.
meanwhile let me end with this: if we’re against bulges and suggestive images here let’s be clear what the rules are. because the ad board is right: if we’re selling briefs, then damn it show me the body that will wear them! so dear straight government official, pray tell: how big is an acceptable boob? because you know a D-cup looks obviously augmented, but so do C-cups in the land of Asian women. and how big is the acceptable bulge, given the fact it would seem strange for bulges to be missing, in tight fit jeans or board shorts, and i’m sure you don’t want your kind to look castrated, yes? and while we’re at it, how seductive can the eyes be? are puckered lips now disallowed? how about men’s hands? because you know i find those sexy.
Arnold Aninion and Darran Seeto: nothing like some arms and hands for some sexy eh?
and then there’s this question, one that i truly wonder about: should we remove men’s feet from billboards altogether?
1. possible precursor: this pre-nuptial photo shoot of rockstar Jay Contreras and Sarah Abad, in a provincial cemetery. it isn’t the cemetery of heroes and had no crosses, but it sure seems like the peg for the irreverence in the current more controversial pre-nup shoot of Ruskin and Priscilla at the Libingan ng mga Bayani. so no, Priscilla and Ruskin weren’t quite “breaking conventions in pre-nup shoots here.” they were in fact doing a copy of a photoshoot that happened in 2009.
Jay & Sarah, 2009, via mangored.com
2. the fact is the Libingan ng mga Bayani is different. it is where our heroes are, soldiers and past presidents and vice presidents, national artists. i get that.
but too, this wasn’t the first time a photo shoot, and a pre-nuptial photo shoot, happened in the Libingan ng mga Bayani. someone must be earning something somewhere, and that person is the first one to disrespect the heroism that this space stands for.
3. a question: do the couples who have their prenup shoots here necessarily disrespect this space? it’s entirely possible that they don’t even think about it, that a cemetery is a cemetery is a cemetery to a couple in search of the perfect setting for their chosen pre-nup theme. and no Ruskin and Priscilla are not the first to do this.
Al & Meg, Jan 2011, via http://anapleaday.blogspot.com
4. so the question becomes: what did Ruskin and Priscilla do differently from these other couples? is it that they were laughing versus brooding? that they were enjoying versus looking into each other’s eyes, or looking into the camera? it seems that it was that they were doing a version of the Sara-Jay prenup photoshoot, complete with cigarettes and alcohol, and some crossdressing, too.
5. this is the apparent extreme that the online public cannot take. it’s the way in which Ruskin and Priscilla’s shoot used the crosses, as something to hug, something to sit on (versus lean on, see Al & Meg above), something to drink to, smoke with. all considered disrespectful and crass and everything in between.
6. of course the drinking and smoking says more about what we think of both as vices, which is also really a matter of taste, as are the cross-dressing photos. that this has been done before in a provincial sementeryo forces us to ask about what we think of our dead in general, what we think of our heroes, and how this recent industry of the pre-nuptial photoshoot now necessarily means a struggle between creativity and decency, at least in our shores.
7. but too maybe we should consider the fact of Angelo Reyes, dishonorable suicide and all, being buried here as “hero.” it might be said that that was the first stone cast at disrespecting all the real heroes at the Libingan ng mga Bayani.
8. PS: i think Nick Joaquin, National Artist, San Miguel Pale Pilsen drinker, would’ve loved that there was finally some alcohol in the house. *clink*
Over Rizal, Monuments to a Hero had all the makings of superficiality. After all, in light of Jose Rizal’s sesquicentennial his monuments seem like the most flimsy of subjects; in light of the more important question of his continued relevance, this exhibit risked the possibility of being absolutely irrelevant.
But there was more here than just photos of Rizal statues, and while the curatorial note speaks of memory and remembering, the sheer number of these monuments across the country surprisingly reminds of a predisposition to forget, where archetypes end up meaning nothing, and portrayals of heroes are but one-dimensional representations.
What Over Rizal reveals is that at some point archetypes can turn out to be real and one-dimensionality can become a foregone conclusion. These photos taken together might in fact give the more discerning spectator a sense of the kind of narrative we collectively build as a nation about Rizal, even and precisely on the level of the seemingly harmless monument.
the breakdown and aftermath of the Rafael Santos debacle is interesting to me mostly for what’s still unsaid.
1. the fact of Santos’ class, and i use that word not just to point to his lack of social skills (for goodness why would he think a joke like that funny?) and bad manners (he was asked about actors he himself worked with for his film, yes?), but also his social class. that humor, if we’d like to call it that, is one that we know exists, that we might have heard before from rowdy boys in some sosy Starbucks, or kids we’ve taught in our time as teachers, and it’s a humor that isn’t surprising in its existence. what is surprising is that Santos did not turn it off for television, that he actually thought this was an interview that would be so comfortable, his humor would be fine. which bring us back to the fact that he might be a rich kid — a konyo kid in our context who feeds his cat catfood and thinks lowly of skyflakes (equals 1 cup of rice kaya and isang pack no’n!) — but apparently rich doesn’t mean classy.
2. which is what that show Cityscape is, more pang-mayaman than anything. Sir Anton Juan is so correct about pointing out how that host is at fault as well, though there’s the mere existence of lifestyle shows for the elite like this one that’s just wrong in third world Philippines. that show, as is David Celdran’s ANC show, is a bubble that allows the ones who are in it to believe that everyone speaks the same language, thinks the same, live the same, i.e., we’re all rich, you’ll get my humor. is this to defend Santos? of course not. it’s to point out that other than this articulation, there’s a fundamental problem in a media system that creates a venue for him to speak this way, and think that it’s ok. it’s telling of a crisis in media, isn’t it, when the rich can be shameless about their lives and lifestyles, as if they were not in impoverished philippines?
3. some critics of Santos are angry because he draws a divide between film and theater. i say it’s a reminder: despite Eugene Domingo, John Lapus moving from theater to film, and despite numerous mainstream actors moving from mainstream and finding more credibility in theater, that divide still exists. and it’s one that’s painfully and obviously about money, i.e., who will make money for TV and movie executives and therefore will get better pay, and not at all about who does the better job at acting or entertaining.
now that divide gets a little more complex when we talk about the indie film industry of which Santos is part. the indie in fact is theater in light of commercial film; it’s where the more artistic, more creative filmmaking happens, where the better actors are found. i always thought the indie employing theater actors meant a team effort of sorts, one that spoke of both industries’ struggle to prove creativity on the most flimsy of budgets, on a dire lack of support. Santos’ articulation pointed to the fact that the indie film industry has it’s own divide to deal with, and it’s one that’s becoming more and more stark as they go about this business of being “independent.” while it’s true that there are countless writers and directors who financially struggle to get a hold of a camera and finish a film, it’s also difficult to ignore this fact: there are also these kids who go to some sosyal film school, are given cameras on a silver platter and think the struggle is just like wow pare, it’s so hard to make the film i want, coz i want to do a tarantino film or like a kubrick? and the philippines is so not prepared for me.
wow pare, ang tindi ng struggle mo.
4. and lastly, Tanghalang Pilipino’s artistic director Nanding Josef wonders:
here’s what i think, Sir: while i’ve got a brother and sister-in-law who were part of theater in the Philippines before they left for Holland, and while i’d like to think myself a theater critic at times (though i cringe at that label half the time, especially with gibbs cadiz and exie abola around), as outsider to philippine theater, i think this emotional outpouring of anger and disgust at the issues that underlie Santos’ articulations is the perfect reason to start talking about a theater actors’ union.*
of course in this country insisting on a union is a red flag up for the powers-that-be. but seeing the theater industry’s united stand against this articulation (even those who have forgiven Santos admit to his fault here), i think the theater world’s 100 steps ahead of the fight for what every creative industry worker deserves: a spanking-new union.
the writers among us can only be envious.
*and i mean a real one, not like the UMPIL for writers, which doesn’t really function to protect writers or standardize how much we might get paid, but seems more like a fraternity of writers. i mean a real artists’ union, much like the Philippine Models Association of the Philippines (yes, they are smarter than us all), that standardizes pay based on seniority and skill of their members, and is responsible for any of its members not performing their jobs well.
