MANILA, Philippines—When one thinks of Filipiniana art, visions of nipa huts, fishing villages and unusually happy farm animals flood ones mind. Socialist art critics in nineteenth century Britain claimed that English pastoral scenes were represented as idyllic to keep the poor from recognizing their social condition. The same socialist thinkers may think that the bright colors in our Filipiniana art may well be concealing our own unhappy circumstances, except we Filipinos are not as polite as our British counterparts. When Filipinos paint about their social condition we do so with colors, icons and caricatures everywhere. Themes of revolution, abuse, poverty, power and exploitation shout from the canvases.

Many political statements have been made through art, especially in the wake of many recent political scandals. From paper mache floats that look like political figures, to some artists resorting to caricatures and vulgar slogans to voice out our frustrations, is it of any wonder why we are not being taken seriously? While some themes are dark and heavy and downright depressing, the recent Tutok Kargado show at the Ateneo Art Gallery proved that political statements and revolution is not always depicted with Katipunan red or Cory yellow. Curator Jose Tence Ruiz wanted to show that real artists since the Colonial period have been reacting to the political situation of the country in well thought out forms of art and not just graffiti on the side of a building. Artists have done this either through their social realist themed paintings, or as cartoons for newspaper editorials. The Tutok group chose from the Ateneo’s collection to create a visual discourse with artists wuch as Arturo Luz, Vicente Manansala, J. Elizalde Navarro, Roberto Chabet, Antonio Austria, Brenda Fajardo, Lazaro Soriano. Those who participated from the Tutok group are Edgar Talusan Fernandez, Manny Garibay, Alfredo Esquillo, Noel Soler Quizon, Karen O Flores, Jose Tence Ruiz, Boy Dominguez, Mideo Cruz, Mark Salvatus, Buen Calubayan, Jay Pacena, Lav Diaz, Jim Libiran, Don Salubayba and Kirby Roxas.

Idyl Idols

Mark Salvatus’ multimedia installation called “Xpo” is paired in reaction to Antonio Austria’s work, “Sari Sari” of 1965. I find that it is a commentary on the idolatrous nature of Filipino culture and the very Filipino tendency to mix unlike things together—for the sake of convenience. For a country that claims to be the “only Christian Nation in Asia” we certainly worship more than one. This is probably the only place in the world where one will find a statue of a Sto. Niño alongside a Chinese good luck laughing Buddah or a lucky frog with a coin in its mouth. Other figures that are included are those of children’s toys—an influence from the American culture that is ingrained in every Filipino no matter what their social background is. “Xpo” also comments on the commodification of labor and mass production the west has brought on the Philippines. It also nods at the fact that our sense of nationhood is watered down by the strong outside influences that we chose to idolize.

Buen Calubayan’s “My Mama” looks like a water logged icon of the Virgin Mary wearing her Medieval times iconic ultramarine blue. This work comes from a larger installation called “Pinoy Idol.” If there is one idol that could sum up our belief system it would be the icon of the Virgin mother. This work brings to the forefront the matriarchical society that we have, where in the Lord’s mother is somehow turned into our mother as well, along with the strong Marian influence in this country. The work is paired with three Virgin Mary statues all made by the little known art brute artist simply called “The Madman of Maililipot Albay,” who was discovered by Eric Torres in an antique shop in 1965. The power that the Virgin Mother has over this country is definitely unmatched anywhere else in the world.

People Power…Again?

Lazaro Soriano’s “Jack en Poy” of 1987 inspired two works in this exhibit with the iconic images speaking more than a thousand words painted a year after the First People Power revolution. Little did Soriano know that his work’s subject would come back to haunt us again and again for the years to come. Alfredo Esquilio’s work “Jack en Poy” is the answer to comments on the division of the nation using the one icon of the Philippines that we are recognized for all over the world: a colorful jeepney. While most jeepney drivers consider themselves kings of the roads (perhaps depicted here in the crowns worn by the two men) jeepney drivers in their own intrepid way, get what they want on the road, however many illegal swerves they make. The jeep in this painting, however, sits on a rocker which does nothing but move from side to side. For a painting that initially looks like a light subject, its message is one that hits home in the question of where our nation is going. Emmanuel Garibay’s jolly banquet “May Lugar Pa Sa Mesa” on the other hand speaks of a strange warped unity between all the public figures and cultures that have come to shape who we are today. Seen standing next to each other are Cory and Imelda who 20 years ago were at the helm of a power struggle. Today both ladies reside comfortably in the Metro, each gracing their own special events. Everyone here seems to just eventually get along. This piece is perhaps the most political piece from the newer artists not just for the inclusion of political icons, but for the blatant reference to the table of power where many seem to be seated.

Femme Fetale

Jay Pacena’s work “Deus Ex Machina” explores the role of a woman in society and how circumstances have turned the female body into a commodity. Pacena’s work is paired with Gil Juan Reyes Virtusio’s “Si Philippa ang Aking Inang Prokyuress” which depicts an overweight woman sitting like a traditional reclining Venus in her bed in a shanty town. While Virtusio’s work shows off a warm voluptuous female form, Pacena’s work is a cold tight mechanic torso, both forms however represent the woman’s body as an instrument to generate work. Jose Tence Ruiz’s work Blue Screen Kotillion looks like the decepticon version of Marie Antionette, and is inspired by Manansala’s “Jeepneys.” Manansala’s abstract form looks like today’s streets in a traffic jam, rather prophetic for a work done in the 60’s to depict what gridlock looks like today.

While this show was an absolute display of the country’s current state, it was done so in an elegant intelligent way. If more of our rallies and attempted coup d’etat’s were planned as well as this show was curated, we might actually get somewhere.