Artists Celebrate CCP’s Liberation
Artists Celebrate CCP’s Liberation
By Cesare Syjuco & Jean Marie Syjuco
Published in: The Manila Times, May 02, 1986
IMELDA Marcos almost certainly have banished the thought. And then, too, also the thinker. At any rate, it would have been unimaginable only months ago.
At the imposing Cultural Center of the Philippines, balut, kropeck and mani vendors in street-clothes and rubber slippers peddled their wares to the jubilant guests. Lambanog and tropical punch literally flowed into cheap paper cups, laughter and songs filled the air, and everywhere the frenzied excitement of a free people was as apparent as it had been just two months ago. And rightly so for no other incident or occurrence — apart from the spontaneous storming of Malacanang Palace on the 25th of February this year — could claim to be more symbolically liberational than the democratization of the Iron Lady's professed magnum opus, the once-omnipotent CCP.
For the first time, the combined exhibition spaces of CCP's Main Gallery, Small Gallery, Museum Hallway, Fifth Gallery and Main Theater Lobby, including interior garden areas and corridors, played host to a dramatic outpouring of previously concealed emotional manifestations as captured in the collective works of Filipino painters, sculptors, printmakers, writers, poets, photographers, performers, dancers and musicians — a historic gathering staged principally for, the people. The occasion was the opening night of the exhibition "Piglas: Art at the Crossroads," on display at all CCP venues until June 1.
Organized as a concerted mass action by 200 freedom-loving artists to liberate the "cultural seat of power" of an oppressive regime, the exhibition's opening ceremonies were a rite of exorcism, delivering the Cultural Center to "the Filipino soul" in whose name it was purported to have been built in the early part of the last decade. It was against the construction of this edifice that the late Sen. Benigno Aquino staged seething attacks. It was here that Imelda Marcos would take her aristocratic friends to impress them with her wealth and benevolence. So it was only fitting that the CCP should now be purged of its influences, or at least, of its phantoms. And fitting that Filipino artists gathered together should do the purging.
The great majority of the participants were gifted talents of all ages and from all walks of life, many of whom had been denied access to this elaborate facility. Their works had virtually been banned from exhibition because they were considered "counterproductive," even "subversive." Artists who had long been discriminated against, or who had deliberately shied away from the CCP in protest to the Marcos dictatorship, now stood alongside their glowing canvases hanging frame-to-frame with those of acknowledged contemporary masters.
"Dati rati, para lang tayong nga bisita rito (In the past, we were only like guests here)," exclaimed one artist exhibiting at the CCP for the first time. "This is a historic occasion!" a bubbly matron kept repeating. "We have pushed Imelda from our midst!" And all through the evening, the same sentiments were expressed again and again, in so many ways.
The paintings were undoubtedly the stellar attraction for most of the animated guests. Cesare Legaspi exhibited an unconventional work, affixing a starched military uniform to canvas and decorating its chest with a wealth of medals fashioned from assorted bottlecaps. Alfredo Liongoren presented a fully operational "deception machine" which sent dozens of jointed wooden snakes hissing at the viewer when the foot-pedal was activated. Lino Severino had a two-part collage of news clippings accented on one end by a penciled white arrow captioned "This way to the US Embassy." Edgar Fernandez stenciled likeness of Ferdinand and Imelda on a roll of yellow toilet paper. Bencab assembled revolutionary mementos in a fiery red box crowned by a roll of barbed wire and a shrunken head. Sculptor Junyee presented an outstanding wall installation of sticks plucked liberally from a walis tingting, a collaborative work that bewailed the Filipinos' inability to live and work harmoniously together. Roy Veneracion exhibited a ghoulish oil painting of Mr. and Mrs. Marcos who, with the aid of the grim reaper in military uniform hold the muse for ransom.
Jose Joya rendered a dark and brooding abstract highlighted by bright specks of confetti. Roberto Feleo presented a transparent glass cornerpiece in an old frame topped by a brass eagle reminiscent of fallen empires. Agnes Arellano attached a magnifying glass to box like supports that housed a' minuscule fragment of barbed wire. Phillip Victor had two overlapping paintings super imposed to symbolize the changing of the guard. Imelda Endaya exhibited a monumental mixed-media painting of obscure faces buried in the ignominity of social injustice. Federico Sievert submitted a powerful canvas of small monster-forms spewing from the mouth of a grotesque patriarch. Nunelucio Alvarado presented luscious gnomelike renditions of agrarian folk. Antipas Delotavo painted a large canvas depicting the front steps of the notorious Manila Film Center - another Imelda landmark - and posed working-class people seated nonchalantly and hollow-faced on the concrete slabs. Virgilio Aviado had a haunting diptych illustrating death on the airport tarmac. Renato Habulan and Pablo Baens Santos renewed the active roles they had played in the foretelling of a people's persistence and eventual triumph.
Performance artists - those committed new activists of the streets and campuses - rendered deeply stirring works for the festivities. Joey Macalino, Ige Ramos, Alan Rivera, Soliman Cruz, Ed Manalo and dozens of volunteer students from the CCP's own drama and visual arts workshops, took turns in regaling the cheering crowd. Ballet Philippines' principal dancer Brando Miranda and lighting virtuoso Katsch Catoy choreographed and led their compatriots in an energizing number dedicated to the spirit of the occasion. Piano wizard Carlitos Calaguian gamely presided over the live performances at the museum, making spontaneous music with flautist Louie Stuart and percussionist Pepito Bosch, providing accompaniment for poets and speakers alike - including Bing Caballero, Gigi Duenas, Alfred Yuson, Felix Fojas and Aca Versoza. Still elsewhere, a future generation of liberated artists doodled tot art on a long strip of paper that had been rolled out on the floor by a solicitous Judy Sibayan.
But the leading liberators that evening were the guests of honor, in whose untainted persons the artists had chosen to embody their abiding faith and confidence in a new order. Leticia Ramos-Shahani of the foreign affairs ministry, and newly appointed Victor Ordonez of the culture ministry, cut the ceremonial ribbon assisted by Dr. Lucrecia Kasilag of the CCP. Made mostly of barbed wire, the symbolic barrier was severed and dismantled amid loud applause.
Emotions, doubtless, ran high and unrestrained throughout the gathering, as did the incidence of outlandish work and behavior. No collective aggregation of the country's foremost talents in any one place could ever have hoped to be elegantly laid back.
Liberation is hardly ever an exercise in etiquette, any more, at least, than liberators in action are mild-mannered and genteel. The Chinese believe that wanton noise-making with the aid of pyrotechnics is an essential ingredient to driving out the evil spirits. And the evil spirits, in this particular case, had been around for as long as anyone there could remember.
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Cesare A.X. Syjuco, “Artists Celebrate CCP’s Liberation” (page 1 of 1), The Manila Times, May 02, 1986
