Sacred Idolatry

His works engulf the narrow, restrained space of the Green Papaya Art Projects’ gallery. From the doorway, you can see two massive pieces welcoming your approach. A couple of steps reveal four slightly smaller ones. “It’s a set of idols,” artist Gaston Damag states about this exhibition, which he has named Wanted. “Wala nang mga idols. Hinahanap na natin. [There are no more idols. We are missing them.]”The huge drawings depict images of the bulol—the carved wooden figurine of the Ifugao rice god. Damag shares, “Most of these are made by my hands, with no brush. I call them ‘digital drawings.’” It is a counter-reference to how modern day development has transformed the use of one’s hand. “I’m so tired of all these ‘digital’ [things]. So I said, okay, I’ll do some digital drawings, the most primitive way.”

He stands next to the bigger pair of paintings and demonstrates, “Dito, parang sinasampal ko. [Here, it's as if I'm slapping the work my hands.]” He extends his arms to show that the width and height of the drawing correspond to the length of his extended arms.

The traditional idol has actually been featured many times in his exhibitions. “It’s idols that I really know,” Damag points out. “I’m from Banaue. It’s part of our heritage.”

Damag, who is of Ifugao descent, is known for his use of ethnographic symbols to create his very contemporary works. His engagement with cultural artifacts—whether bulols, or African idols, or the likes—in his various exhibitions can be traced to a trip where he found himself viewing his heritage in the Museum of National History in the U.S. “The objects were from the Philippines, from Banaue,” Damag relates. “Most of the objects in the showcases were from my family. Inside, you could see pictures of my uncles. It surprised me to see my ancestors, the first generation, in that museum. And there I was, a modern man looking at these things. It’s a question of cultural representation.”

It is this cultural question that has changed the course of this artist’s journey. Damag clarifies, though, that his search is not one of identity but one of comprehension. “Some artists think about pure representation. Some artists are more conceptual. For me, it’s more the search for representation of cultures. How cultures understand other cultures. I analyze about an ideal way to present these things. I am artist, I make suppositions. There’s no reality. All propositions.”

It has been four years since Damag has been in the Philippines. Paris has been home for many years, a move that began quite romantically. “I followed my (then) girlfriend, a Frenchwoman,” he divulged. But it was study that he pursued in Paris, taking up Civilisation Française at Faculté de la Sorbonne (Paris) and earning his Diplôme National d’Expression from Ecole Nationale Superieure des Beaux-Arts de Paris.

His participation in major exhibitions is a growing list of international shows, his most recent ones included Greece, Germany, and Luxembourg. His return to the Philippines this year is marked not just by Wanted, which echoes his ethnographic objectives, but also by a more special work. Further inside Green Papaya, past a wall that divides the space, is Monument.

“Monument is more personal,” the artist muses. When Damag was in third grade in the ’70s, he and his classmates were summoned from their classrooms by the military. The children were brought to the barracks where they saw a woman lying on a table. The story told was that she was a rebel killed in an encounter. “Palagay ko tinadtad s’ya ng bala. [She was peppered with bullets.] I still remember the brain, the blood falling down on the semento. I made this piece because every time I go back to the Philippines, I would think of her.”

Damag says that while this project was difficult to put together, it was even “harder not to do. It was a release.” He tells us of his plans for it. “I want to see where she came from. And maybe from this big painting, I’ll do a film about this woman [tracing back] to when she’s about 16. [When she was probably happy and went to fiestas.] I need to find her friends, talk to them. Who’s this woman? What was she doing? How did she get involved? How did she become an insurgent?”

The space that Green Papaya houses plays a particular role in this first step. “When I started working with Peewee [Norberto Roldan, the curator], and I saw the space, I thought this is nice here. When you enter, you don’t see it because we have that wall. This is a very personal space. It needs to be personal.”

Damag discloses that he doesn’t expect people to totally understand his ideas, but he would like to get his ideas as close to them as possible. “What I don’t like so much in art is when people come and see and they see what they think, but they do not to see what they’re supposed to look at. They see what they think because they always see the thing as a mirror of themselves. So they make interpretation of what they think. And if they see what they think, the art doesn’t exist. It’s dead. When you create, you have something you want to give to your audience.” [Note: original quote unedited goes, “May ginagwa kang trabaho, may gusto kang ibigay. Eh kung yung tumitingin, tinitingnan lang ang sarili nya, it’s nothing. It’s a massacre.”]

We do get some insight on how to navigate our way to this artist’s ideas. “Most artists have this concept of windows. They like to zoom [an idea closer] to them. I prefer the contrary. These images,” he waves his hand at his works on the wall, “masyadong malapit sa akin [sic]. It’s what I really know.”

Wanted/Monument was presented in cooperation with Alliance Francaise de Manille at the Green Papaya Art Projects. Green Papaya Art Projects is located at 124a Maginhawa Street, Teacher’s Village East, Diliman, QC, tel. (02)9262096. Thanks to curator Norberto Roldan.

published in Mega, October 2007

Intense Escape

Kate Torralba not only designs some of today’s hottest clothes and accessories, she also rocks on the keyboard.

Upon her arrival at the quaint Bar42, Kate Torralba saunters in and amicably chats up the producer. Known for her cheery and colorful dresses as much as for her gracious and pleasant personality, she takes to the keyboard and begins to shock those unfamiliar with the other side of Kate. She renders and emphatic version of “Black Hole Sun” by grunge rock band Sound Garden.

Piano first

Even at four years old, Kate didn’t allow obstacles to deter her foray into music. It was at that time that her mom and the rest of her family were taking piano lessons. Everyone except her, that is. “I wanted to take lessons,” recalls Kate. “But they said, ‘You’re a baby.’” To her family’s amazement one day, the young Kate started playing the notes of the song “Moon River”—the tune that everyone was studying she had learned to play by ear.

Formal piano lessons began at age 7. “I was really advanced,” Kate shares. It was said that she was at prodigy level, with a skill so natural and superior for her age. A scholarship in the US was offered, but being the eldest daughter, her family declined. Kate was to stay at home. At age 9, however, Kate made it to the US, this time to perform for a recital in Los Angeles.

Kate’s love affair with the piano soon encountered a rocky patch. Classical music became too tiring. The “discipline was too much,” states Kate, who in grade school became intrigued with rock music. By high school, Kate was finding piano uncool, and even went so far as to trade it for the guitar, teaching herself a new skill.

“I called myself Mrs. Kurt Cobain,” Kate giddily reveals, alluding to the late Nirvana lead singer.

In her native Cebu, Kate became the vocalist for HardCandy, a band playing female pop alternative. An erstwhile self-confessed The Corrs fan, Kate took to the role of violinist as well, but didn’t fare as well as her other endeavors. “I sucked,” she laughs. The band earned a modest amount of success. In 2000, it garnered 5 awards at the first San Miguel Cebu Music Awards, including Band of the Year and Female Vocalist of the Year.

Tonight, tonight!

Tonight, as she reaches emotional intensity, she gives us a hint of the serious, introspective woman behind the animated character many take for granted.

Kate is playing without a setlist, drawing requests from the crowds and playing her favorites: Sarah McLachlan, Everything but the Girl, and of course Tori Amos—the artist “who makes piano cool.” Whether it is Pearl Jam or Radiohead, The Cure or Massive Attack, Kate deftly recreates a musical experience that shuts out the rest of the world.

Kate admits that her two personas—fashion designer and musician—are alter egos of each other. “The clothes are the happy [side]. The music reveals my darker side.” The darkness she speaks of points to the complexities her music unveils to her audience.

Fans have pinned their hopes on an album from Kate. She divulges that the idea is not too far-fetched. “One of my goals is to release an album before I turn 29 in December,” Kate shares. “An EP [extended play] at least.” As she bids her goodbye, we do leave knowing that when she’s ready, we can expect an invitation into a whole new realm of Kate’s musical exploration.

published in Mega, October 2007

Bugged

Protecting your kids from that everyday nuisance: germs.

How do you wage a battle against the unseen culprit behind children’s colds, flu, common infections, and all things that make kids sick? How do you wage a battle against germs?

Read the entire feature in the October 2007 issue of Smart Parenting.

Shaping Perceptions

A quick look at him may prove to be deceiving. His black graphic shirt, leather studded bracelets, styled hair and boots easily form the idea of a person off to watch a rock gig, if not perform in one himself.

Jucar Raquepo may not be involved in music by profession, but he’s certainly utilized the medium in his creative process. “That’s why that’s here,” Jucar motions to the car subwoofer at sitting at the back of his studio. “When I’m excited, I put on loud music. When I’m not, I play music very quietly, music like American country. I listen to everything. From country to rock ‘n roll, heay metal, to hip hop. Sometimes I go to Mag:net Katipunan and I play my compositions that I composed on the computer.”

This multi-faceted approach is analogous to the artist’s body of work. In one exhibit, Jucar went beyond the visual arena with his concept to create a full experience. The walls of Mag:net Katipunan were painted black, which echoed onto the pieces that were composed of various elements of hardware. Moans evocative of both sex and torture could be heard. In the bathroom, to which the gallery extends, hung another piece—curiously situated beside the toilet. Its spot proved to be a vantage point for viewing an adult video through a welder’s mask.

“It was actually censored,” Jucar laughingly recalls of his sadomassochism-inspired exhibit. “It lasted only two days.” As provocative as the collection was, the inspiration went beyond the sexual elements. “I created it with heavy metal and rock music in mind,” he says, pointing out references rockers and rappers are associated with—leather, studs, and chains.

It is this keen eye on interpreting the contemporary world that marks Jucar’s range of works. Most notably, they reflect elements that are taken from everyday scenes. This inclination is very evident in the artist’s most recent exhibit, Various Conformations. ”It’s mostly composed of paintings that are inspired by what we see around us—everyday simple things that are very Filipino. It’s actually a composition of things and abstracted symbols, and abstracted figures. I transform them or manipulate them, so they become abstracted.”

Jucar’s take on abstract art deviates from the more common standpoints, even daring to depart from the literal meaning of the word. Instead of dwelling on the more philosophical and intangible concepts, Jucar prefers to use concrete objects as his starting point. “I’m trying to do a different kind of abstraction. Usually you see abstract art as big brush strokes, bold brush strokes, fluid brush strokes. Mine is composed of tiny particles or elements on a space. It’s not one fluid brushstroke. The ideas or subject matters are very much influenced by what I see around me.”

A broader look into his body of work gives a better understanding of this style of composing elements and abstracted symbols. Jucar notes that exercises in collage-making, as a Fine Arts student in UP, had influenced his direction.

“You can look at these collages are formations of things, of papers that are cut out. There came a time when I became inspired to blow up small pieces of collages,” Jucar shares. “That’s how I began, by enlarging those collages, until such time that I had my own way of composing already. I have my own shapes that I like. There are no studies on small paper; I do them directly on canvass. It’s very spontaneous. I have a set of artworks that don’t need collages anymore. But I still have a set of works that are based on collages.”

His own portrayal of Pinoy pop culture is indicative of the different ways of looking at Filipino life, whether it is the particular hue of green that government buildings use, the pattern of carinderia plastic table covers, the Magdalo symbol that rebelling soldiers flaunted, or the special font that jeepneys carry.

Serendipity, spontaneity, and a curious eye play significant roles in the artist’s creative process. He relates a recent experience of driving behind a jeepney at night. Drawn to the vehicle’s colorful lights, Jucar saw the object in a whole new way. Somehow, the darkness presented the object with a different set of characteristics. “I thought, why don’t I do something like this—something black or nighttime?”

Before he loses himself in a menagerie, he quickly adds that it’s an idea that he still would need to think about. It seems that Jucar has a lot of ideas brewing, but it always goes back to addressing questions about Pinoy identity. He reveals a current concept which would bridge the gap between today’s artistic expressions with the older generation’s.

Jucar muses, “I’d like to study or experiment on the appearances of Filipino paintings. For example, the Manansalas or the Angono art feature a way of stylizing figures or the subject matter in this cubist-like compositions. When you look at abstract painters, Filipino artists have some way of creating their shapes that is different from others. I’d like to study that and see what is originally from us and incorporate it in my work.”

The artist acknowledges that his influences are different from his predecessors, and that to an extent, he is conscious that his works are Modernist in composition. “There are many meanings to Modernism, but mainly it is flat in character. There is little illusion of space or depth.” Yet, Jucar refuses to limit himself, violating even his own boundaries. “Sometimes I break the flatness because it is interesting to break tradition or to blur the meanings of modern art, blur the lines.”

In this vein, it would probably be best to approach Jucar’s work with no expectations. From dark and provocative at one point, to colorful and mundane in the next, the artist’s work are complex compositions that he invites viewers to see as a visual creation. He proposes, “Just appreciate the art visually first, the meaning will just follow.”

published in Mega, October 2007