radikalchick.lit

in process: travel with no man

speaking literally, in the sense that you carry your own bags, with no real options for help, no man to take pity, at least no man that’s yours. and this is the story of you, having a boy all the time, since you were in college to post-grad, working as teacher, living alone. there was always a boy.

and you do this on purpose of course, calling all your men, boys.

because that’s how they become, you find. they become such in the course of time, because you have the temerity to stay in relationships even when there were signs that told you to go, leave, walk away while you can. but alwaysyou see it through to what are generally painful ends, thinking it right that you do so, there is no other way,  you are proven wrong not soon enough.

and you struggle with your heavy bags and pray to the heavens that you’re going in the right direction to your bed and breakfast. you get to your room and find it unkempt, the last customer just left, the one who’s responsible missing. you get to the Eiffel tower by pressing on, you get there hungry, and with blisters on your feet, you chide yourself for these mistakes, no one else is at fault. you are always at fault.

you are in the Metro and it’s dingy and smelly, yet you need it to find your way, so you deal with its smell and chew some gum, light a cigarette. you plod on with a confidence that’s mistaken for certainty, you always know your way, you’re the one who knows what to do.

you shuffle through too many Metro stations, you walk through long unfamiliar streets. with blistered feet, you take some photos, plenty of them bad, some of them good. you have no conversation save for what’s in your head, and in there it is plenty and dynamic and brilliant, you wonder who can get it.

you wonder where you are. except that you’re here, where it’s clear what you’re up against and where you need to go. this is more than you’ve known of yourself since you’ve had a man. you should know to take this one as a sign.

kultura

Heroism and cliche in Looking for Juan 2010

a version of this was published in the Philippine Daily Inquirer, May 31 2010.

It is everything and fantastic this CANVAS project that is Looking For Juan. After all, the overwrought discussion of identity seems to be at a dead-end, where insisting on Filipino-ness is adjudged too nativist and always anti-America. This forgets that when we insist on being part our colonizers, there seems to be a refusal to deal with looking at our identities as separate still from these colonizers. Meanwhile it’s easy to see why we’ve arrived at this roadblock.

And yet, this year Looking for Juan (Vargas Museum, U.P. Diliman) is in a bigger, brighter (also hotter) venue (where are those rich UP alumni to air-condition this place when you need them?), and doesn’t seem to want to stop with talking about identity. But maybe too much of a good thing can be bad?

Because with the question of everyday heroes, cliché is the name of this game. It doesn’t help that the way in which the exhibit was curated grouped the works thematically, making the clichés more obviously about sameness. And when I say that there are paintings that are the same, I mean the artistic individual creativities (difference in media, notions of genre) get dissolved in the stark similarities, of imagery, of thought-process, of just basic idea.

Workers as working heroes

Name it, and you’ve got that Filipino worker here. There are no call center agents, or yuppies, or any enslaved white-collar workers thought, instead there are images of the kargador, the fisherman, the farmer, the magtataho, the teacher, the health worker, the basurero (that last one is a sculpture). One wonders at what point it becomes less respectful and more a politically-incorrect romance with these images. After all, these workers aren’t given lives other than the work they do, and in the few paintings that show workers’ conditions, badly-written captions that accompany the work ruin things altogether.

Thank goodness for “Minimum Wage Earner” by Renato Barja, where the construction worker is rightfully the color of the soot that he creates and lives with, where he is given a cup of coffee, a cigarette and a fiery sunrise in the background, where his big eyes are allowed its sadness and its weariness, even more importantly its defeat. Where the last thing you will think of is celebration or romance, or cliché.

Jojo Ballo’s “Tuwing Umaga”, which uses charcoal on canvas, would’ve been more powerful left without its caption cum explanation. Maan de Loloya’s “Kargador” meanwhile, fails at its cleanliness, which doesn’t work as irony for what it is that the main image is doing, i.e., carrying on top of her head a “crime scene” of her oppressive past and present: an MMDA sign, pink stilettos, guns, a balikbayan box, a buwaya. Had this been dirtier it would make sense that the smaller versions of this character look up dumbfounded at, some are apathetic towards, this bigger image’s act of cleaning up.

The cliché of the OFW, and motherhood

Because we know this to be true: that the OFW is the new hero of nation. And so, there are a good number of works here that are all about this heroism, and while some do fail at bringing something new to the OFW stereotype, there are those that just succeed. Yveese Belen’s “In Every Corner” is a canvas divided into 8 x 4 square, with every other square filled with an image of tiny brown workers doing various jobs. What is extraordinary here is the detail where the workers are actually in action, doing their jobs, making it more of a tribute to what they do, versus a romantic notion of just them.

The other OFW paintings don’t quite survive their captions, although Cana Valencia’s “Bagong Bayani” does just because it’s a different image compared to all the others here: much of the canvas is taken up by a Swiss knife made into the Philippine flag, the sun used as the O to the FW. From this center, what the knife’s various tools reveal are Filipinos’ various jobs across the world. It’s everything and refreshing, removing the sadness implicit in the mere fact of OFWs.

And those mother images? All about the clichés of pregnancy and giving life, or holding the child’s hand and protecting her, of motherhood as powerful in itself, period. That might be true, but there are so many other ways in which mothers are heroes, that would’ve been nice to see, too.

Some powerful imagery

Dante Lerma’s “Call Juan-24/7-Heroes” has such a powerful image that’s failed by its title and caption. A woman in a Maria Clara costume stands against a Coca-Cola refrigerator. Her foot is up against the wall, revealing running shoes, and she is holding her phone as if writing a text message. From afar, it was easily a rendering of the notion(s) of womanhood and tradition, the powerful woman vis a vis the meek and tamed. With that title about heroes being on call? It is everything and disappointing.

Cathy Lasam’s “Mommy” is wonderful in its experimentation with texture, folding up paper to create a pattern that renders the quiet – and I daresay cliché – image of the mother more dynamic, more interestingly alive and truthful to the multi-dimensionality of all our mothers in our lives. Janelle Tang’s “May Bago Akong Laruan” layers acrylic on canvas to create the layers of a paper doll. Here, the clothes floating on the canvas create the images of a mother and a child, even when they don’t exist on the page itself. The heroism would lie in the idea of powerfully creating our own images, yes? But that caption is an absolute let-down.

Fernando Sena’s “Tatay, Nanay, Mga Tunay na Bayani” was a refreshing complexity in the midst of these works, where abstraction seemed to be few and far between. Sena’s take on the cliché of parents as heroes is done in cubist abstraction, where two tiny one-dimensional faces represent parents, that create what look like structures that go up higher and higher, evolving into darker, deeper, more serious colors, as it goes up the canvas. It’s a celebration of the default power of parenting to build, to create, regardless of whether it wants to or not; it’s a reminder, maybe even a warning.

The universal Pinoy hero

What becomes infinitely more problematic here though is the idea of every Filipino as hero. It is here that the paintings seem to all work towards the media-created notion that we can all change this world just by voting once. As if things are ever that easy. Here, laughter is celebrated even when it’s really more a negative than a positive in the way that it fails to consider oppression. There is the teacher, the student-journalist, the environmentalist. There are hands! Just too many notions of hands, both in titles and captions, and outright in images that we’ve all seen before, some of them in our grade school art projects.

The ones that survive this part of the exhibit are those works that have different images, even when these titles and/or captions want to kill the work altogether. Dante Aligaen’s “It’s In Our Hands (It Always Was)” is a black and white mixed media work of a skull from which emanates a halo and the rays of a sun, flowers/grass/weeds spewing out from the main image, and bombs ready to fall from the sky. It’s a fascinating take on pride and yabang, the kind that can get us all messed up about what’s good and what’s evil.

Liza Flores’ “You, Me” could’ve done with a more creative title and less of a caption, because it is wonderful in itself, where the notion of reflection works both with and without another, except for oneself, where the dark and cold and the bright and sunny seem to be one and the same, versus being two sides of the same coin, where heroism is ultimately about staying where you are, regardless of how difficult, or how seemingly easy.

The rest of the many works here insist that we can all be heroes, be it through images of Rizal (too many of them, too!) or through the images of the youth as the future. But while this seems wonderful, the idea of our own individual heroisms at this point doesn’t seem all that possible, does it? Maybe it isn’t even truthful, as it is more than anything about romance and false hopes? Buen Calubayan’s “Pinger” seems to be the answer. It’s nothing but a black tarpaulin with an enlarged red digital print of the artist’s dirty finger, accompanied by this line: “Ako ang simula ng pagbabago? O panggagago?”

How’s that for a caption that works.

komentaryo

anti-activism, anti-freedom of assembly: who survives?

Ces Drilon is who. And the policeman she featured on I Survived on May 13 (early morning May 14, 1t’s 12:56 am on my clock). It is also GMA who survives in this, even the next president, or every other person who says that rallies are mob rules and should be dispersed or else, forgetting that the freedom of assembly IS A RIGHT.

In the end it is all just lazy research and documentation, and irresponsible journalism.

So in the course of the show, you are made to find out that this policeman was victimized by the crowd during EDSA Tres. You find out that he was injured and all that, that he risked life and limb to fulfil his duty as policeman. Sige na nga.

But. This doesn’t excuse the fact that anti-riot policemen are alwaysthe ones on the offensive. They’re the ones with truncheons and shields. They’re the ones who are pasugod at any given point. Even this policeman Ces was interviewing and who survived said that he was victimized by the tear gas that they threw into the crowd because the wind went in the policemen’s direction. He also said that in the end, what was used against him were the things that he and his team had used against the rallyists. What does that really say about who is oppressed in a rally situation?

Obviously Ces hasn’t been part of a rally in a long time, the kind that’s about rallyists riskinglife and limb to fight for their rights? Obviously she hasn’t been on the receiving end of the police’s/military’s unjust anger.

Obviously Ces and whoever her writers are for this show, were so intent on showing the violence of EDSA Tres that they just decided to interweave videos with no dates, no indication of when and where things happened.  In fact, footage of the police’s preparations for EDSA Dos and EDSA Tres were exactly the same. Footage of rallyists were messed up. When Ces and the policeman were talking about EDSA Dos and EDSA Tres, footage showed the PMP (partido ng masang pilipino) flags that went to EDSA after Erap was impeached, yes, but this was interwoven with an organized rally that had flags of legal and valid leftist groups that are now partylist organizations, including Anakpawis and Bayan Muna.

So these leftist partylist organizations are now considered part of the mob rule, Ces Drilon? You actually are saying that these organizations, which were in fact in EDSA Dos, even on stage in those days, are a mere minority, the kind that was out to kill policemen?

How horrible this portrayal to begin with of rallies and rallyists across the board. How horrid that given the kind of military and police power that GMA has used against the people during her term, here’s a show that says, these policemen/military officers are oppressed by the people, too.  AS IF the dynamics of power between the military/police and the people, rallyists and otherwise, have ever changed.

I wonder if they realize that in the process of featuring this policeman injured during EDSA Tres, and showing undated/unverified footage that cuts across rallies by both valid leftist groups and the political organizations like PMP, that it LOOKS VERY PRO-PRES-ELECT-NOYNOY (and Kris, I dare say given the money she brings into the network). How can ABS-CBN 2’s news and public affairs even begin to say they are responsible and not for any candidate? Come on, this episode of I Survived in fact reeked of the whole Aquino discourse of the left as a noisy minority. So lump them together with the mass mob rule of EDSA Tres, and tadah! you prepare the nation for no rallies, no assemblies, don’t do that because kawawa naman ang pulis.

WTF Ces Drilon. WTF ABS-CBN’s news and public affairs. for people who insist on responsibility and being worthy of our attention, talaga naman, sometimes you just failus. In this case, you fail the freedom(s) you should be fighting for. The freedom(s) in fact upon which you stand. Ang galing. Congratulations.

komentaryo

SATUR IS THE ONE

Satur Ocampo is the one senatoriable who has gotten flack for being guest candidate of NP, which is surprising given how this refuses to believe the truth that he and Liza Maza are running with the party, and not within it. Why is it so hard to understand that?

The better question is would we give Satur and Liza the same problem had they run with LP? It’s obvious that people who use the NP reason against Satur and Liza are silently/unconsciously pushing for Noynoy. So between a rags-to-riches capitalist and a middle-class haciendero, we go with the unapologetic former?

And let’s not even begin with running independently. That would’ve meant votes, yes, but not a nationwide campaign. This is the reason why I miss Mar Roxas for president — at least he was open to real progressive senatoriables. The Aquino siblings have called the left “a noisy minority,” Ninoy must be turning in his grave.

The whole anti-NP, pro-LP, anti-Satur  rhetoric? Interesting. But wrong. And unfair to this nation that would gain so much with real progressives in the Senate.

Because Satur is the one senatoriable who has consistently fought for our human rights to our freedoms and has sacrificed life and limb for it. He was journalist and writer before becoming activist, a story that we should all be jealous of, a story that we should all want to have as writers/artists of whatever kind. Satur has lived a life for this nation literally. Can any other senatoriable say that?

And yet, Satur is the one senatoriable who has had to deal with not being forgiven. For a nation that can forgive plunderers and human rights violators, killers and thieves, and a president like GMA, it cannot for the life of it forgive this man. He who has paid for his sins with time in jail more than any other person in government has. He who has missed time with family in the name of nation. As congressman he lived in Congress with Liza and Teddy Casino because GMA was out to get them. All of them lost their pork barrel.

And no, Satur does not carry a gun. In fact Satur is the one who walks among us, and we fail to see him because he isn’t in a fancy car, doesn’t use police escorts, refuses the lifestyle changes public office requires. The same may be said of Liza, who I chanced upon in a karenderya, who talked to me like we were old friends, even when I was someone she didn’t know from eve.

Satur is the one senatoriable who, if you spend time looking at his Congress page has done good to nation, consistently and for the long term. Anyone who questions his stand on the extension of CARP is ill-informed about the state of agrarian reform in this country; anyone who thinks Hontiveros is the one woman to save farmers in this country, IS JUST WRONG. Please read up, please know how CARP has killed farmers and let hacienderos go free. Please read up on GARB and know enough to see that this is what real agrarian reform looks like, the Hacienda Luisitas of this country be damned.

Read up on Satur, on this, the last day before elections, and see yourselves. See how scared you are of real progressives, compared to your fear of men with guns goons gold, yes, there are many of them in government. See how scared you are of real fundamental change in nation, when your own candidate – whoever he is – uses the word change, too. See how real change looks, how a man can move from a life of privacy, to the underground to above ground, to doing more in Congress than many of our representatives combined. See this man for what he is.

He is an activist who has spoken to the masses in the countryside, has lived to walk the streets and in our consciousness, has consistently dealt with nation by listening to the people and understanding what it needs. He is a leftist, because he has always had the interests of the masses in his heart and soul and actions, has always wished for them a life that’s better than all this, has always worked towards making our oppressions pay for the unjust lives we live. The question is: Why do you fear this at all?

Realize that in the end, a vote against Satur is your own vote against nation, because here and now, his kind of progressive and nothing else is what we need. His kind of decency, his sense of justice, his kind of life. He is the kind of man this nation needs in the Senate.

Satur is the one and shading #37 is a vote for real concrete change. It is a vote for a nation that isn’t afraid to fight for its freedoms. It is a vote for a nation that deserves to have Satur as Senator now. Voting for Satur is voting for a future that will infinitely better, because we aren’t afraid anymore. It is one that we, the masses, the greater majority deserve.