Category Archive for: kultura

it’s been quiet here, which isn’t to say that it’s been quiet where i’m at. been finishing up an MA thesis that’s gone on for too long, and is more about closure to a life lived in the academe more than anything else. while that’s happening, i’ve had more interesting conversations than usual, including conversations about art and the state of things in this country, ones that are kept off the record, unspoken of. sometimes it’s limited to Facebook, other times it just refuses to engage in decent debate and discourse, distinct from the personal.

yet there are many things to write still, conversations to be had. but it seems even brave statements of distrust and disgust, even ones that are relevant and worthy of discussion, become feed and fodder for the personal. here lies our un-critical dead end: we are a sensitive bunch of people, very few of us can handle criticism. yet in times of controversy, or just given the space to do it (blogs, newspaper columns), everyone becomes a critic in this country, everyone will claim the title.

which is fine too, were we all working with a sense of what criticism requires, what it entails, what it must necessarily work with. in recent conversations, forced to answer questions about the work i do, the blogging and the writing, and therefore my life in general (hah!), i realized that much of what i had to say reverted back to my sense of what’s relevant and important, to a sense that what i say is secondary to that text that’s in front of me, which is also always a text that’s about nation. i will never claim that i get it right all the time, or even half the time; but i will say that i come from a very clear sense of myself as spectator in the context of the tragedies and sadnesses that are in this space we all inhabit, that any cultural text necessarily sprouts from, no matter how removed these might be.

and just in case it isn’t clear, i’d like to think that any critic is a writer first, because every critic lives off of words, too, lives off of choosing the right words for capturing how she has experienced a text. and as with any writer, the only way to have the words to say, and to have a sense of what’s relevant to discuss, is to be within the enterprise of culture in this country, half the time suspending one’s notions of taste and order, the other half suspending all judgement. all the time it requires this sense of how things are never black and white anymore, that these are gray times, where notions of power and oppression are interspersed/diluted/interlaced with things that are prettier or tastier or just downright addictive.

it’s because of this that i find generalizations to be painfully unfair, if not just usually absolutely wrong. after the success of Ang Babae sa Septic Tank, this generalization was dropped —

Before it got made in the mainstream though, Ang Babae sa Septic Tank won over the less-forgiving indie film crowd, comprised mostly of hipster students and educated artsy folk who are used to seeing gritty, neo-realist dramas and have the tendency to be just a tad pretentious.

i’d like to find out where this indie film crowd hangs out, just because this girl’s got it all wrong about the indie, and the indie film, and even just the idea that there’s a crowd. had she read up on the indie, watched the indie for the past decade or so too, she’d know that this “crowd” doesn’t exist, the hipster students she’s so critical of are a recent aspect of it (and the hipsters are everywhere), and the neo-realist dramas that tend to be pretentious aren’t at all of the indie as a category, but of a kind of Pinoy film in general, indie and otherwise.

in direct contrast to such misinformed generalizations is something as honest as pinoy drama rewind which does movie and TV reviews, as well as episode recaps of contemporary soaps and seryes. this might not be the kind of critical blog that’s celebrated, but it sure as hell’s got more going for it than the misinformed being given space(s) in broadsheets like the Philippine Star. in the latter we just perpetuate the notion that all it takes is space to write and an amount of yabang. in the former, there is an effort at actually and truly coming to terms with the cultural products that we create and live with in this country, and there is a sense of humility more than anything else.

one that we should all learn from, critic and writer, young and old, in broadsheets and online, alike.

we don’t. but let me give you some proof.

Enjoy Division is a group exhibit not just with a wonderful title, but which had a curatorial note by Antares Gomez Bartolome that the Light&Space Contemporary gallery decided to put down.

the said note was critical of Malaysian curator Adeline Ooi’s assessment of Philippine contemporary art which looked down on us, i.e., “We already know you were conquered by the Spanish, sold to the Americans, raped by the Japanese and totally fucked over by Marcoses” but which praised artists influenced by Roberto Chabet. (that article was up at businessworld which now requires you to pay to see its archives. bleh.)

since Light&Space Contemporary’s censorship of the curatorial note, artists of Enjoy Division have decided to take down the exhibit.

it seems about right that they do, given the fact that there is no intelligent response from the gallery — at least none that’s been made public — other than what’s here.

via @Antares Gomez B. on Facebook (August 29)

Dear Light & Space Contemporary,

I am posting this essay for purposes of establishing a dialogue. Kindly reply with your reason/s for taking the essay down. So far, all I have is a forwarded message from Buen Abrigo, one of our organizers, who received a message from you. It reads: “Ano ba nangyari? tinangal namin yung writeup nyo, sablay sya men, sabihin nyo sa writer nyo, d namin susuportahan yung writeup, di pwde i publish gamit anglight and space. Maganda sana at solid yung show pero panira lang yung writer, gusto mo magusap tayo mamaya para malinaw sa inyo kung bakit d approve yung writeup.”

it’s interesting here how a show is judged as “maganda at solid” extraneous to its a curatorial note. the next step would’ve been for the gallery to explain their reasons for saying yes to this exhibit to begin with — what exactly did they think it would be about? — because they seem to be surprised about that note, when it could only be an integral part of the process of putting up that exhibition. of course it’s entirely possible that the process is different for this gallery, and that they were really truly surprised, then maybe the question should be: why? what was so wrong about an essay that critiques a foreigner’s take on Pinoy art?

and really, how do we deal with the notions of the curatorial note being separate from the exhibit it curates? though maybe let’s start by talking about the difference between the curatorial note and its writer: sablay yung write-up? panira yung writer? ganda.

via @Antares Gomez B. on Facebook UPDATE (August 31):

During our exhibition group’s meeting yesterday evening, we decided to ask the gallery for a written explanation for their decision to ban the essay. We received two text messages from them.

“Right din ng gallery na tanggalin ang mga bagay na negative or nakakasira sa gallery at sa mga tao na involved dito, ayaw namin makisama sa drama nyo kay ooi”
-Pow Martinez 30 Aug 2011 9:43pm

“Pwede naman palitan yung exhibit text nyo na walang name dropping na negative na sinasabi.”
-Pow Martinez 30 Aug 2011 10:08pm

We decided to ask if these two messages constituted the official statement of the gallery as they were rather general and vague.

We then received a telephone call from Pow Martinez where Buen Abrigo explained that the works could not sacrifice the essay, that the works were the manifestations and elaborations of the essay’s sentiment and vice versa, and that the criticism of how certain parties are distorting and exploiting (the making of) art history was integral to the exhibition’s concept.

The reply was that the gallery did not agree with our concept. “Lame” was the word.

We have since decided to withdraw our works from this so-called alternative space.

Despite our disappointment with the gallery management, we take heart that the exhibition was able to highlight the ideological lines that divide the milieu we are part of, lines that help determine the breadth, pitch, and span of critical art production and discourse.

and so it becomes clear: as far as the gallery’s concerned: (1) no curatorial note can say anything negative and/or namedrop, and (2) responding to a foreign curator’s statements about Philippine art is “drama” that’s negative. and yes, we got that loud and clear, it’s the gallery’s right to take down a curatorial note, BUT keep the exhibit that goes with it as if it stands on its own. got it.

on Enjoy Division 1 via Antares Gomez B's Facebook
on Enjoy Division 1 via Antares Gomez B's Facebook
on Enjoy Division 2 via Antares Gomez B's Facebook
on Enjoy Division 2 via Antares Gomez B's Facebook

so you know, there is actual debate and engagement with the strategies/tragedies/ concepts/ideologies/fictions that create this art world, and then there’s murahan at personalan, walang paliwanagan. and there are mafias and cliques and friendships, a refusal to change the way things are, and the general disregard for and distrust in criticism, even when they dish it against critics who engage them in intelligent discourse.

right here is why i never agreed with the idea that the one great thing to come out of the conservative controversy that was poleteismo is that people will start talking about philippine art. because the censorship of Enjoy Division’s curatorial note was infinitely more offensive and should resonate for anyone who writes — anyone at all — and as such demands involvement from those who joined the fray of  kulo’s closure.

but the national artist and the high-and-mighty writers of this world don’t seem to care about art anymore, even when it’s been trampled upon by a foreigner with false grand statements about Pinoy art, even when it is censored in light of protecting one way of viewing art making in this country.

we prove in the end that post-poleteismo, and save for the grand couple of weeks when everyone was suddenly an art critic in this country and no one complained, the issue of censorship in the arts and the systems that allow it — without the noise of the penis — will only fall on deaf ears.

tunay na nakakadismaya.

Click here for Antares Gomez Bartolome’s curatorial note.

Going to art exhibits and events since 2009, I find that what I enjoy most about it is the solitude and silence. I’m not known in art circles (or any circle for that matter) and can go around unobtrusively; on “gallery days” it’s rare that there are other spectators, least of all someone I know, in these art spaces. It’s a gift, a break I take even as it requires trips to places from UN Avenue in Manila to West Avenue in Quezon City. The time becomes mine, the art I own with my gaze.

It was with this same gaze, within the same task of going to see as many exhibits as I can, that I went to Kulô at the Cultural Center of the Philippines (CCP) on July 2 2011. I was doing Virgin Labfest 7 marathons, and made sure to come early to spend a good hour at the gallery. A day or so after, I virtually happened upon participating artist Pocholo Goitia and told him how much I loved the exhibit, the best of the Rizal efforts I’d seen so far; a couple of weeks after he tells me in passing that it’s gotten into some controversy or other and I brush it off: who has cared about art in the past three years that I’ve been engaging with it in my own way(s)? Given Kulô’s premises I also thought the only ones who’d wrongly take offense would be the University of Santo Tomas (UST), alumni as the exhibiting artists are of the said university, the Goitia essay particularly placing the exhibit within, beyond and against the said institution. (more…)

Elias de Tayabas
Elias de Tayabas

it was daunting more than anything else, though at some point all that operated was an amount of yabang: i’ve seen friends do this before, i’ve seen wonderful beautiful local books happen without a big publisher behind it, without press releases coming out in papers. and this book, i knew, deserved the major major effort of blood/sweat/tears because it is about family and history. because it is unconventional in form, an almost refusal to fall within the genres that are familiar, a straddling among creative non-fiction/historical essay/memoir. because it demanded a freedom from the standard limitations of publishing, given its refusal as well to deal with the ways in which things are usually written, how they usually look, what can usually be said.

and so Revolutionary Routes can be infinitely controversial, familiar as many of the personalities within its pages are, from former presidents Manuel Quezon to Ramon Magsaysay, Vicente Sotto to Artemio Ricarte to Tomas Mapua, yet here, more than anything they are revealed to be people. there should be no fear in that. there should be freedom in it.

because that is also what it means to family: a great amount of freedom. to be able to let go of these stories, and more than sharing it with the world, show the world how our Lola Concha, unnamed and anonymous, knew somehow to sit down and write, in long hand, about the life she lived. with no pretenses at publication, no grand narrative tying everything together, no effort at making saints out of sinners. in the process she left not just a narrative about family, but a history both local and national in the voice of someone who actually lived within it. Reynaldo Ileto’s Foreword to the book begins:

Revolutionary Routes is more than a family history across four generations. Author Angela Stuart-Santiago has deftly woven together the memoirs, clippings, correspondence and other traces of her family’s past into a microhistory that spans the late 19th century up to the 1950s. While this book is rooted in the specific experiences of a family that lived in Tiaong and its adjoining towns in southwestern Tayabas (now Quezon) province, it also tells us much, from the ground up, about everyday life in the countryside under the shadow of successive imperial and national regimes. This book can also be read as a modern history of the Philippines.

it seemed there was no other way to do this book, but to take it by the horns and make it walk a path we were making up as we went along. a kind of tribute to the way Lola Concha lived believing in hard work and with more heart — heart — than i can muster. a tribute to Lola Nena who could see most clearly even as she was blind, who inadvertently led me to reading beyond my years, whose sadnesses are a thread i find strength in. and really, ultimately, a glass raised to Angela, whose writing’s a gift in the most basic and complex of ways.

today these arrived in the house and home that Lola Concha and Lola Nena continue to provide us in Mandaluyong:

Revolutionary Routes books!
Revolutionary Routes books!

and i realized there was no other way, no other way at all, but to have taken the path we did, difficult/stressful/frustrating as it was. and today, i felt as close to this joy as i could, as in the end, this route could only be liberating, in all ways imaginable.

***

we’re launching Revolutionary Routes, on August 20 2011, 5 to 8PM at the Filipinas Heritage Library. come buy a book and have Angela sign it! we’re celebrating family and Tayabas, and Elias from Rizal’s Noli who we now know to be a crucial part of our story.

if at all, you’ll get to meet us beyond our blogs, with partying the only thing on our minds, no fangs included. do come!

Revolutionary Routes by Angela Stuart-Santiago
Revolutionary Routes by Angela Stuart-Santiago

Revolutionary Routes, Five Stories of Incarceration, Exile, Murder and Betrayal in Tayabas Province 1891-1980 by Angela Stuart-Santiago

based on the memoirs in Spanish of Concepcion Herrera vda de Umali
as translated into English by Concepcion Umali Stuart

foreword by Reynaldo C. Ileto
book design and overall layout by Adam David
cover design and Elias illustration by Mervin Malonzo
official website by Joel Santiago

let me skip the fact that this artwork is old, i.e., this is the nth version of it that’s been exhibited. let me not do a review of the whole exhibit Kulo here, as i hope to still be able to do that with more time in my hands.

in fact, this i feel is more urgent. elsewhere i praise pinky webb. since two days ago, i have completely changed my mind about her.

by this fact: upon a complaint, and many others who agreed on her show exklusibong, explosibong, expose‘s FB page, she does two stories on mideo cruz‘s art installation “Poleteismo” at the Cultural Center of the Philippines gallery. the follow up story is what i get to see, where pinky reveals herself as the worse kind of media personality there is, doing a story on a creative work and in the process proving that she actually thinks little — if at all — of art and creativity.

i don’t care how many people complain about an artwork, and i get the capitalist intent of the media believing that sensationalism is a service to the public. but it should be the media’s responsibility to see an artwork and not miss the fact that it is an artwork. i’m the last person who will insist that we cannot be offended by art — even i have limitations. but at the very least a piece of art should be seen in its totality, not at all what pinky did here.

Poleteismo by Mideo Cruz
Poleteismo by Mideo Cruz

instead her camera focused on the christ’s face attached to which was a wooden penis; the drawing that likened him to micky mouse; the condoms hanging/attached to certain religious images. when faced with mideo, her question of him was to the effect: anong pumasok sa isip mo at nagawa mo ‘to?

obviously pinky was coming from a place of agreement with those who have complained about “Poleteismo;” obviously this was pinky revealing herself as the conservative that she is, as a media personality who is limited by her notion(s) of art, or lack of it; obviously pinky is a perfect example of objectivity proving itself only a stance that panders to the Pinoy church, noisy and controversial and powerful as it is.

because at the very least, pinky should’ve featured that work as a whole, that is a whole goddamn room, and not zero in on its parts as if that was the whole work. when i saw “Poleteismo” i did not quickly or easily associate it with religiosity, as i did with icons and institutions, belief systems and ideologies: imelda and ferdie, mickey mouse, robert jaworski, showbiz personalities, the university of the philippines, activism, slogans, chants, sex, and yes, Catholicism. the latter is not only one of many things here, it is crucial to see it as such because it’s the only way to experience the space (again, this was practically a whole room) and let its bombardment of images do what it must: startle you, disgust you, at the very least force you to see that this was not just about religiosity as it was about idolatry.

Poleteismo 2011
Poleteismo 2011
Poleteismo 2011
Poleteismo 2011

after which we might argue about what exactly this work questions, what it puts side by side with catholicism, what it says about the state of the nation since 2007 when a version of it was first installed. then let’s talk about whether we should take offense at all, given our catholicism, or whether or not this is the kind of catholicism that’s embroiled in all the other things we hold dear sinful and evil as they might be considered.

pinky herself performed the travesty and tragedy that this work critiques, and she has no idea. i’d be sad about it, were i not dismayed that she didn’t know better.

to have even walked through that space and spoken to the artist, all captured on the XXX camera, and then to have asked those questions, is a measure of pinky and no one else. my undergraduate students would’ve asked infinitely better questions of mideo and of CCP Visual Arts director karen ocampo-flores, who has said as much about the manner in which “Poleteismo” has been treated in parts versus in its entirety.

Poleteismo 2011
Poleteismo 2011

of course the latter is expected of the Pinoy Church, petty as they are, lost as they are in the changing — almost static — contemporary times. but to have the media, and popular media at that! failing to be critical precisely of the premises of this complaint against “Poleteismo,” failing to see the work and thinking ah, that complaint could be wrong, is just unforgivable. you know what else is a measure of bad journalism here? in the course of that segment, i did not hear pinky mention the title of the mideo’s work (though i might have missed it as i was getting more and more incensed by the minute). she also kept calling the work an “exhibit” — which it isn’t. she wouldn’t have had the right to talk about the exhibit as a whole either, i.e. Kulo itself, because she didn’t even mention the rest of those works. which is just irresponsible too, to have failed not just in seeing the entirety of “Poleteismo,” but also in placing it in the context of the bigger exhibit.

what pinky did was the height of sensationalist reportage, with the arts as sacrificial lamb, bringing on discussions on morality and money, the bane of the culture industry in this country. that segment on “Poleteismo” ends with pinky saying something to the effect that creative freedom must not impinge upon religious beliefs. oh but what to do with someone who did not even get into the creativity of something? what of someone who will fight for freedom of expression in the media, but will absolutely fail to get art productions? good lord (yes using his name in vain, so sue me).

of course i can hear the bottom line here: for pinky it’s that someone actually complained about that artwork and was offended, well let me throw this into the picture:

i am offended by this project of Sen. TG Guingona because it is an unnecessary use of taxpayers money, since the people he talked to for Design Para sa Lahat are rich people to begin with who do not need any financial support in doing what they already do and have the infrastructure for! i am disgusted and offended and angered by this, and i am complaining! and i want to put in the word konyo for more sensationalism.

sige nga, sinong makakagawa ng feature tungkol diyan?