Rene Cuvos's Mystery Woman (Isn't It Time We Give the Madonna-Whore Complex a Much-Needed Rest?)

BY MADS BAJARIAS | There is something in Rene Cuvos's "Konserbatibong Maligalig" at blanc artspace in Makati City, which reminds me of the Sarah Palin phenomenon ("Coldest State, Hottest Governor") currently shaking up the US presidential race. The artist's media release helpfully points out that this painting has to do with hypocrisy in sexual matters, thus the pop culture references (which, to be honest, smack of cliches): the Playboy bunny ears, the Maria Clara dress and the sexually suggestive lolly. But really, this painting could also be how women who dare to be different confuse some men. I think women know who they are and what they want; it's men who get perplexed about how to react to women who act different, are different.

Take Sarah Palin, aspirant to the office of the US vice-presidency (or as the media like to phrase it: "a heartbeat away from the presidency"). Her inclusion in the Republican ticket turned what many observers initially thought to be an Obama-Biden coronation into a real fight for the White House. McCain's choice of little-known Palin was so outrageous it stunned even some Republicans. But what a choice! The media is agog over this ex-beauty queen, moose-hunting, salmon-fishing, devout Christian soccer mom with the sexy-stern librarian upsweep hairdo and glasses. The woman is compelling in a "sexier older sister of Tina Fey" kind of way, as one blogger put it. Outdoorsy, tough, smart, attractive, down-to-earth and (based on the Saturday Night Live skit) one of the reason for the mainstreaming of seedy terminology like MILF and FLIRJ (oh, don't make me spell these out!). One of her kids is serving in Iraq and the youngest has Down's syndrome. A daughter is pregnant out of wedlock whose boyfriend is a high school dropout. Married to a fisherman who is also a champion snow mobiler (you can't make this stuff up even if you tried). She trained to be a sportscaster but didn't want to leave Alaska and whose entry to politics began when she met her town's former mayor in a step-aerobics class. She has admitted to smoking marijuana (when it was still legal to do so in Alaska) and as current Republican governor tangles with the Big Boys of Big Oil as she presides over what may be the most socialist of US states (all long-time Alaskans get monthly checks from the oil companies operating in their area). The woman is just gangbusters.

The choice of unorthodox Palin in the Republican ticket grabbed some of Obama's "Change" message. Who's a maverick now? Palin in the limelight also exposed a strange thing in the Obama campaign: Obama isn't a good defensive candidate. He is at his best when he takes the offensive but has a hard time when his opponents counter punch, as Palin did when she belittled Obama's community organizing work in her acceptance speech. When Palin grabbed the media attention, was it any surprise when polls started registering an uptick in Republican support?

Not everyone likes her, naturally. Paparazzo-punching Lindsay Lohan ranted in her blog that Palin is "a narrow-minded media-obsessed homophobe." How Lohan knew this is a mystery. Lots of Hollywood types are coming out with anti-Palin statements, likening her conservative views to that of George W. Bush's.

Regardless of politics, Palin is just one more woman who lives her life in her own terms. Take it or leave it. It's the 21st century. Time to rid ourselves of the Madonna-whore complex. People are just complex, period. Cuvos' show "Estranghero" is ongoing until October 1 at blanc artspace in Makati City.

Jerson Samson's World is a Cramped, Busy World

BY MADS BAJARIAS | Jerson Samson's "Ikatlong Mundo" (Third World) is a jam-packed warts-and-all snapshot of urban Filipino families living, loving, playing and making-do in cramped conditions. Samson combines a "Where is Waldo?" obsessiveness with wry observations of Pinoy household scenes where religious piety and family togetherness are cherished and the concept of personal space is virtually nonexistent. This work is being exhibited in ultra-cool Singapore and it makes me wonder how anyone who grew up in a tightly-regulated and efficiently-run nation will view this termite hill vision of third-world reality where things seem to be on the brink of chaos and disorder, but stop short of becoming shambolic and dysfunctional.

While my curiosity for how Singaporeans will interpret this work rages, I have no doubt that for the casual Pinoy art enthusiast, this work makes for fun viewing. I always look for three things from pictures like this:
1. The giant wooden rosary hanging on the wall.
2. The giant wooden spoon-and-fork hanging on the wall.
3. The wall decor which shows miniature bladed weapons from around the Philippines.

When I find any of those three telltale signs, then I know that the artist is really Filipino!

Samson shows a keen anthropologist's eye for Pinoy street-level dynamics and household bric-a-brac. There is no hint of moral judgment from the artist, just a lucid recitation of observable facts on canvas.

Maybe for some, this is a worrying picture of rampant overpopulation; of humans gobbling up space and resources for themselves ("How can you live like that?"). Are these mere creatures mired in the quotidian? Content to feed and copulate and raise their young, with no higher aspirations whatsoever? People whittling their time on petty matters? Are these just bodies occupying space? A nation of ant-like beings who have collectively achieved nothing of importance to benefit the rest of the world?

Or is this a picture of contentment? A lively presentation of people who may not enjoy the best luxuries that modern life has to offer, but derive comfort and joy from being around loved ones. Maybe this image shows that what matters most is being around people and pets they care about no matter how difficult the living conditions may be? ("You Filipinos are so cheerful!"). Humble folk with simple needs who are tolerant and civil to each other given difficult circumstances? Maybe that is enough achievement?

"Ikatlong Mundo" will be on show at Utterly Art Singapore until September 7.

Now, can you find the giant wooden fork on the wall?

Samson's work reminded me of a post-Olympics report which seeked to answer the question: Given the size of its human population, why isn't India winning more Olympic gold medals? It makes for an interesting read, and insights from India's ongoing struggle to get more Olympic golds may also help us find ways to improve our own Olympic campaigns.

Jonathan Ching Flunks Marine Biology Test

BY MADS BAJARIAS | But seriously, Jonathan Ching's enigmatic "Whale" at blanc, which shows a derailed locomotive resting on its side does look a bit like a beached whale, especially if you squint real hard. Its cowcatcher—the grill-like device meant to scoop up cattle and other objects from the track to prevent derailment—does resemble baleen, the filter that a whale uses to sluice krill into its mouth. Yes, the locomotive is big, like a whale, obviously. But I guess the similarities end there unless we delve deeply into the nitty-gritty of whale biology and trainspotting (but who has the time?). Maybe these coal-fed locomotives are becoming rarer, like some cetacean species? Nah, that's stretching the comparisons. A far better way to approach this "Whale" is to look at it in the same way that Rene Magritte painted a pipe and wrote "This is not a pipe" below it. Ever since Magritte's pipe in his iconic "The Treachery of Images," artists have time and again used this trick to label objects with paradoxical names or captions either as:

1. a kind of conceptual joke
2. to prove a point about the nature of images ("It's not a pipe, but an image of a pipe!)
3. to explore deep connections beneath the facade of the obvious.
4. hint at the artist's own inner struggles.

The possibility of genuine nonsense cannot be ruled out. Maybe there is no clear and satisfying reason for the choice other than it pleases the creator.

The 20th century showed that everything is relative, yes, and obscurity has its own rewards. You can go ahead and call something anything you want—the question is whether you can get away with it. This "Whale" (not a whale?) is part of Ching's "Whale Songs for the Disenchanted" at blanc artspace until September 1.

Mariano Ching, Louie Cordero and the Rise of the Spooky Rat-Brained Machines

BY MADS BAJARIAS | If Bart Simpson grew up to be an artist he'd probably make something like this: Wild-eyed bike pogo tots with knee-high socks charging towards zombie-lady made of glowing green goo. This is one of the pop surreal stuff to be exhibited by Mariano Ching and Louie Cordero in their show "Death Scream" at blanc. Weird fun is the order of the day. Over at the University of Reading, scientists removed neurons from a rat's brains and hooked them to electrodes on a robot. Spooky rat zombie shit! The robot takes its instructions from the pink broth of rat brains and manages to avoid obstacles 80% of the time (hell, even humans can't avoid 100% of obstacles in their way, right?). So is this the beginning of Skynet? Over at the University of Geneva, scientists are using the Large Hadron Collider to explore how two subatomic particles can seemingly communicate nearly instantaneously, even if they are separated by cosmic distances. Einstein dismissed this in his lifetime, calling it "spooky action at a distance." But it seems the LHC is going to find more and more situations where Einstein's ideas don't apply. Just last week, they recorded sub-atomic particles zooming at speeds ten thousands faster than the speed of light opening the theoretical possibility of faster-than-light warp speeds (cue "Star Trek" music). So it's a brand new world out there. While most of it doesn't make sense in terms of classical Newtonian physics, it's all in good fun (until the machines take over and wipe us out). "Death Scream" opens on August 15.

Don Djerassi Dalmacio's Memento Mori Doesn't Do Small Talk

BY MADS BAJARIAS | The fascinating thing about Don Djerassi Dalmacio's "Hollow Man" exhibited at blanc is how it grows on the viewer. That I didn't realize right away that it was a skull made the impact all the more forceful. What with all the rubbish ephemera that we surround ourselves with, I guess it's good to be reminded once in a while about what awaits us all in the end (no, not a hot bath). The hyper-commodified culture is so tied with youth-worship and shiny happy people that oftentimes we forget that the grave awaits. Nowadays, skull images form some sort of cutesy background pattern and adorn everything from tough guy decal tats to pink school bags for kids. Skull images have become sort of Hello Kittenized. Death's head as kawaii. Dalamacio avoids that—his memento mori isn't puerile. It doesn't try to dazzle or joke around. There is no facile posturing or over-the-top preaching. It just appears slowly out of the debris to observe us. We are in its über-cool grip.

Jigger Cruz's Metaphysical Chemistry Set Explodes

BY MADS BAJARIAS | For Jigger Cruz's "Liquidus Curve" shown at blanc, we'll have to let go of any pretense about having easy and pat interpretations. Elusiveness is the key here. A perpetual balancing act. Liquidus, I've since learned, is a term from chemistry. It seems that a liquidus curve is the graphical representation of temperature's relationship with composition. The curve shows the temperatures at which a liquid solution is in equilibrium with its vapor and with the solid solution. I don't understand much of it but it all sounds fascinating. Same with Cruz's work. We may not comprehend the underlying science or metaphysics of it, but the shifting alliances on the canvas, the entanglements at work somehow mirror the instability of all physical relationships and this dynamism rings true for all human experience. We strive for equilibrium amid chaos. We try our best to find patterns amid the gathering forces of disorder.

Crist Espiritu's Green-Tongued Monster Chooses the Blue Pill

BY MADS BAJARIAS | Crist Espiritu's "My Heart Pumps Neon Acrylic" exhibited at blanc is crazy-ass fun. The green-tongued anarchic heart with a pig stuck in one of its veins (artery-clogging cholesterol?) and a rainbow in another is a strong metaphor of a heart gone awry and emotions running rampant. Remember when you were young and in love? If yes, then this heart gone bonkers should look familiar. But the eccentric composition is somewhat puzzling to some viewers who may wish that they had a Sharpie or a bunch of crayons to fill in the blank space in the middle of the canvas. Intriguingly, who's the girl and what havoc has she done to the artist that he had to stencil her image six times? Maybe its better to leave this mystery alone. The heart has its reasons which reason knows not of.

On the Brink of Extinction with Oscar Figuracion Jr.

BY MADS BAJARIAS | Oscar Figuracion Jr. belongs to a dying breed of artists—the Pinoy wildlife illustrator. Natural history is a brave field for a Pinoy artist to be. In the first place, the Philippines has never had a strong tradition of producing wildlife field guides for the layman. Nature appreciation, while becoming popular as a hobby, has yet to gain enough momentum for local publishers to go into the business of producing field guides for the serious Filipino nature enthusiast. Even the most widely-used wildlife field guide in the country, the Philippine bird guide by Robert Kennedy etal. was published by a non-Filipino printing-house, Oxford University Press. The fast-moving technological advancements in digital technology has also dealt a body blow to field expedition illustrators.

Oscar's first brush with natural history happened when he was a college student in 1960s Mindanao. He was working on illustrating a set of native dresses for a university textbook. While he was drawing, someone tapped him on the shoulder and asked if he was interested in joining a wildlife expedition as a field illustrator. That man was Dr. Dioscoro Rabor, the eminent Filipino explorer and wildlife biologist. Oscar immediately said yes.


In Dr. Rabor's expeditions in the 60s and 70s, Oscar's task was to illustrate as accurately and speedily as possible the morphological characteristics of the wildlife specimens that Rabor's expedition members brought from the field. At night, when the expedition hunters came back to camp, Oscar had to draw the prominent features of the animals as part of the documentation process. He had to draw fast and accurate before decay sets in. After drawing the specimens, Oscar handed over the specimens to the taxidermists who were tasked to stuff and preserve in alcohol or cotton the specimens worth preserving.

Today of course, photo-documentation is the norm with digital still cameras and portable video cameras. In the 1980s, Oscar went to the Middle East to work as a cartoonist and only came back in the 1990s when he received some commissions from the various local organizations who were making wildlife field guides. Oscar did a few field guides of birds, fishes and corals. He also illustrated a set of butterflies but was unpublished. When the commissions dried up, he moved to Davao City and is trying to sell wildlife-themed paintings.

In the painting on top, we see another critically-endangered species, the Philippine Eagle (Pithecophaga jefferyi), feeding its young. This magnificent bird of prey lays an egg only once every two years in the wild. Tall indigenous hardwoods, their preferred nesting trees, are fast diminishing because of illegal logging and clearcutting of forests to make way for human settlements.

Aside from habitat destruction, hunting is a serious cause of this creature's decline. Even though the law protects it, many fledgelings still get killed by ignorant forest-dwellers who can't recognize a Philippine Eagle when they see one. It must also be noted that the burgeoning Filipino human population means that more and more people from the cities, who have no deep knowledge of the forest, are clearing forestlands where they can make a living. This ignorance means trouble for the native wildlife, and a headache for the real forest-dwellers who are tasked to protect the Eagle.

Many fear that this bird of prey—the country's National Bird—will become extinct within 50 years. If that happens, we have only ourselves to blame.

Poster with an endangered Olive Ridley sea turtle (Lepidochelys olivacea) by Oscar Figuracion Jr.

Justo Cascante III's Naked Creature Gets Cozy with Tree

MADS BAJARIAS | In Justo Cascante III's cartoon-inflected and surrealistic "Dig Life" we have a naked figure halfway up a tree where it sticks its head inside a hole in the trunk. On the other side of the tree-trunk, just about level with our creature's crotch, a water faucet is cheekily attached. Two other sparsely-leaved trees appear in the distance under a bright blue sky dotted with cottony clouds. In this arid land of bare trees, no birds sing, no woodland nymphs prance and no wildlife frolic. The tree seems to be the only source of comfort, sustenance and stability. While the title reminds me of the old hippie slogan: Life's A Garden, Dig It, the landscape here is more T.S. Eliot's "The Waste Land."

The artist seems to be saying that Nature, like Art, is our solace from the burdens of existence. Life becomes less intolerable with nature. Nature comforts us if we embrace it. Either that, or it's just funny to watch a naked guy with his head stuck inside a tree!

Justo Cascante shares some thoughts about "Dig Life."

Title. Dimensions. Medium. Year finished.
JC: The title of the work is "Dig Life." 12 x 16 inches , oil on canvas. 2006.

What were you trying to explore with this painting?
JC: I painted this as part of a set I called Happy Painting. There were three important considerations I had in mind when I began this work. I wanted to re-invent, restructure and discover new ways of dealing with form and I wanted to show my fascination with space and color.

I am attracted to the beauty I find in nature. Blue skies and puffy clouds: these are what catches my attention and where time stops for me. Nature transports me--even for just an instant--to a place where I feel that I am part of this world, this life.

Art is an attempt to capture the richness of life's experiences. My art changes as I go along. I do not inhibit this change, it comes as I work and it is as if it has a life of its own as it diverges from what I thought to be my original concepts.

Slowly, I see new forms emerge from my works. The experience of creation and seeing transformations take place before me become a fascination that somehow makes me feel I am no longer the master of my creations, but merely participating in the final outcome. It feels like watching a movie: the impulse and spontaneity of the brush I wield reveals an outcome I had not anticipated.

From the narrative point of view of my works, my concern was how to balance form and substance. I had to be conscious of the visual elements of the story I wished to tell. This reflects my discipline in the field of animation and movie-making, my fascination with illustration and comic books.

Emotions play an important part in art. This painting is part of a collection that was triggered by personal tensions that needed to be released. My works offered me a kind of balance that revealed both the beauty of nature and the poignancy of this life.

What do you intend to say with "Dig Life"?
JC: Like a code that needs to be deciphered, my art can be viewed in many ways. Interpretation becomes the responsibility of my viewers. I leave the dissection to them.

I am a simple man with a complex story. The burden of my complexity is but mine alone. I therefore leave it to the viewers to tease out the narratives from my works.

Were you still in the Philippines when you painted it? Or you were already established in Hong Kong when you made it?
JC: I was already working in Hong Kong for 13 years when I painted it.

Tell us a bit about your current projects. You are a 3D animator?
JC: I was a 3D animator for many years, but now I'm more of an illustrator who occasionally does 3D animation. I just finished a four-man show titled "Chronicles of Pain Colored" at OSAGE Gallery and will join another collaborative work about balikbayan boxes with different Filipino artist mostly based in other countries. I just finished illustrating a book called "Sex in Hong Kong" and now I'm excitedly preparing for my half-bird half-human masked series which tackles hybrid culture.

Where can people go to see your works?
JC: You can visit my website and my illustration blog.

Thank you.

Andres Barrioquinto's Pitbull and Saint Paul

BY MADS BAJARIAS | Andres Barrioquinto's "Men-pleaser" grabs the viewer by the throat with a carnivore's ferocity. Set against a background that vaguely recalls de Chirico, is this animal of bared fangs, jagged surfaces and fearsome eyes. I am unfamiliar with the phrase "men-pleaser" so I asked Barrioquinto who kindly replied saying that it was taken from the Bible.

After a quick search, I found Galatians 1:10.

From what I understand, this verse is part of a letter that Saint Paul of Tarsus addressed to the early Christian communities in the Roman province of Galatia. Saint Paul was, along with Saint Peter and James the Just, one of the first Christian missionaries who risked the wrath of the Roman Empire which still held sway over large parts of the western world. Early Christian missionaries had no time to muck around; spreading God's word was serious business and one had to take a hard-line approach. For Christianity to thrive, it needed the fire and steel of men like Saint Paul who required absolute devotion of themselves and of other Christians.

The Weymouth New Testament translation reads:

Galatians 1:10: For is it man's favour or God's that I aspire to? Or am I seeking to please men? If I were still a man-pleaser, I should not be Christ's bondservant.

In the International Standard Version (2008), Galatians 1:10 reads:

Galatians 1:10: Am I now trying to win the approval of people or of God? Or am I trying to please people? If I were still trying to please people, I would not be the Messiah's servant.

If I understand Saint Paul's take-no-prisoners stance in Galatians 1:10 in relation to "Men-pleaser," the artist is pointing out that a life spent seeking the approval of others is not much different from that of a dog's. It is through devotion to God that man transcends the level of beasts.

Andres Barrioquinto answers a few questions about "Men-pleaser."

Medium. Dimensions. Date finished.
AB: It's oil on canvas, and 18 by 24 feet. I finished it January 2008.

It seems to be influenced by cubism?
AB: The cubist appearance was not an early intention. It's accidental; it's just what I felt at the time, and basically, it is what came out. It was not planned.

Why "Men-pleaser"?
AB: "Men-Pleaser" was influenced by a biblical verse. Men-pleasers are mentioned in the Bible. I see the dog as a symbol because it's a submissive animal that gives pleasure to man and obeys all his orders.

Where can people go to see your works?
AB: I have one coming up at Whitebox, a one-man show at blanc, and art 40 courtesy of (collector) Julius Babao. Check my Multiply site for more details.

Thank you Andres. Much appreciated.

Melvin Culaba's Girl Will Not Be Ignored

MADS BAJARIAS | Melvin Culaba's "Keychain" doesn't reveal its secrets easily. One has to think long and hard before the subtle symbols that Culaba has planted throughout the canvas begin to reveal themselves.

Luckily for us, when Culaba exhibited "Keychain" in Singapore's Forth Art Gallery, Utterly Art's Keng Hock got to meet and talk with the artist and gained valuable insight into this artwork.

Keng Hock on "Keychain":

Melvin Culaba's "Keychain" is replete with symbology and meaning.

For instance, the child is Japanese-Filipino. Circles, which bring to mind the Rising Sun, are scattered throughout the painting. The girl sits on a garden chair with a circular backrest. Near her feet is one of those newfangled tops that emit a laser light when spinning. On the upper left of the painting is another round object (I've forgotten what it's supposed to be!). Her slippers are decorated with cherries, another oblique reference to cherry blossoms, a symbol of Japan.

A Doraemon keychain dangles from her left hand—an object that mirrors her own strangeness—as she sits awkwardly in her seat. The keychain is a throwaway and disposable object, a demeaning description that children of mixed race often have to struggle against.

Her mixed race tags her as an outsider—a strange alien—wherever she is, a view reinforced by the strange and weird Pokemon pair perched precariously on the ledge on the upper left corner of the painting.

Maybe her outsider status among children has forced her to toughen up and hold the world at bay with a gaze that is both fearless and mistrustful?

Even if one doesn't get into the symbology, "Keychain" still commands the viewer's attention due to the sheer intensity of its execution. While Culaba plants his symbols in subtle ways, his composition, brushwork and colors show a directness and boldness of purpose. A fierce intelligence permeates the work. It doesn't just hang there, it sort of confronts you in an aggressive way. It's forceful nature demands attention.

Romeo Lee and Battlefield Insectizoid

BY MADS BAJARIAS | In another bout of idleness, I found myself in the mag:net galleries and drawn to Romeo Lee’s entomological tripfest “Oh! Sama Kasama Snow White.”

Lately, I’ve seen a rise in matters entomological in the media. First off, there’s the buzz about bees mysteriously disappearing around the globe. The phenomenon is so widespread that scientists have created a phrase for it: Colony Collapse Disorder. Among the possible culprits being investigated are global warming, pesticides and electromagnetic radiation. Yes, your cell phone could be killing the bees and keeping nice flowers from being pollinated.

A recent issue of TIME Magazine had a story about Colony Collapse Disorder. It seems the bee population crash has reached crisis levels in some parts of China forcing orchard owners to use human-assisted pollination—having workers painstakingly hand-brush pollen to individual flowers. This seems like a fun job except when you have to get on a ladder to reach individual pistils on a shaky branch 15 feet off the ground.

Then there's one scene in M. Night Shyamalan’s most recent movie, “The Happening,” where a quotation could be seen on the blackboard of Mark Wahlberg’s character’s classroom. The quote, attributed to Albert Einstein, states that humans can only survive a few months if bees were to disappear off the face of the planet. This quote spread around cyberspace and at one point was used for a Discovery Channel advert. The problem is that no one has proved Einstein really did say or write that statement.

In any case, speaking of Hollywood bugs, flies made an appearance in “Wanted,” the Angelina Jolie splatterfest. The new recruit played by James McAvoy was instructed by godhead Morgan Freeman to shoot the wings off the flies to prove his worth as a killer. Of course!

Then there's Isabella Rossellini doing bug porn with "Green Porno," a series of short films she wrote, produced and acted in about the sex lives of our buggy friends.

And lest we forget: Insects in the War Against Terror. The Pentagon is said to be pursuing the possibility of insect-like nano-robots to hunt down terrorists. And while there's friendly bugs, there's enemy bugs. It's been reported that the US military has been spending tens of millions of dollars in developing pesticide-laced military uniforms that can help protect their wearers against sand fleas. It's not only the Taliban that has been hassling the remnants of the Coalition of the Willing, but millions of tiny blood-sucking parasites.

This brings us to Osama bin Laden, who makes a cameo as a kind of three-faced deity in Lee’s canvas.

What's Lee up to? Is there an environmental theme here? Is he equating bin Laden's elusiveness with the mystery of the vanishing bees? Is he lumping bin Laden with Snow White and the duck that's officiating the civil union between mutant flies (fictional creatures all)? And what are the seven dwarfs finding so interesting in the crotch area of the robed duck-minister? Best maybe not to go there.

Who the hell knows what Lee is up to. But a giant-insect marriage officiated by one of Scrooge McDuck's nephews while enveloped in a blob with leech-like mouth parts and surrounded by candy-colored dots (happy pills?) under the benign gaze of a three-faced bin Laden sure looks fun.

Who knows what Lee is up to here, but he's having a good time.

UPDATE: Someone just sent me a link to some awesome photos of ugly bugs that somehow remind me a bit of Lee's adorable duo above.

Jose John Santos III's Ambiguous Warrior

BY MADS BAJARIAS | In Jose John Santos III's "Commando," we get a sense that something is going on, but we can't put a finger on it yet.

A plan is in motion but we don't quite know what it is. Our animal instinct senses something that the more genteel parts of the brain are still struggling to piece together. We are suspended at that moment hovering between the mysterious and the commonplace. The attraction of "Commando" to me is that it secretes us to a pocket of surrealism between the membranes of the mundane.

Here, we get a dark-skinned man—a guy who works out in the open, a man used to manual labor—sitting on a plastic chair perched on a boat's ramp. His broad shoulders hint that he is capable of physical violence if he chooses to. The piece of cloth (shirt? towel?) tied over his face adds a bit of menace. It's unclear if he is hiding his face or maybe he just wants the sun out of his eyes. In any case, there's an intimation of nervous tension in the way that it is tied tightly over the head.

He has positioned himself on the ramp near the prow, which is a bit odd, as if he was blocking the passageway. Plus, what is he doing with his hands?

The sign "This Way Up" adds a disconcerting note. Up where? Where are we, in the first place?

The biplane is an element of fantasy that further tears us away from a clear and straightforward understanding of the scene. Its appearance brings a sense of dislocation and bewilderment that is mirrored in the way that the boat's passenger ramp is secured aboard the vessel. We are at sea. Unmoored. We are on our own. And we have no clear idea where we are.

And the final ingredient that the artist throws into the kettle is the title: Commando. Enigma complete.

Jose John Santos III answers a few questions.

Medium used. Size. When was it made?

JJS: Oil on canvas. 4 by 4.5 feet, finished in 2008.

Can you share with us the ideas you wanted to explore with this painting?

JJS: I wanted "Commando" to have a directly recognizable image, and yet have an unfathomable essence at the same time. It is this feeling of uncertainty and the unexplained that I find compelling.

Why the title "Commando"?

JJS: It gave this feeling that the man is out on a mission of unknown purpose, and the viewers become drawn to him and his mysterious mission.

Where can people go to see your works?

JJS: Art Informal. I also usually show my works in Boston Gallery, Pinto Gallery and West Gallery.

Thanks John. Much thanks to Tina Fernandez, too. We appreciate the help.

Electric Youth

MADS BAJARIAS | As a kid, Piaget Martelino was always drawn to art. He would have wanted to study the fine arts, but when he was offered a baseball scholarship in De La Salle on the condition that he take up sports and recreational management, he accepted. It was a rare opportunity, after all. But the dream, apparently, never died. When his team traveled to the US for a competition, a chance visit to the Academy of Art College in San Francisco re-kindled the dream. He has since spent his time painting and sculpting.

A childlike sense of energy and fearlessness permeates his painting "Xabin." The work is a fresh take on child portraiture. How many times have we seen excellent artists churn out child portraits which are exquisite yet devoid of animation and spark? In "Xabin," we get inside childhood's unrestrained universe. In it, we get electric youth.

Martelino answers our questions.

What medium did you use in "Xabin"? Size. When.

PM: "Xabin" is acrylic on canvas, 2.5 feet by 3 feet. I finished it in March 2008.

Tell us about the psychedelic patterns.

PM: I started adding patterns to my paintings to add movement and depth. I have always intended to portray playfulness and whimsy in all of my pieces. It's actually my color palette, and not so much the patterns, that give my paintings the psychedelic feel.

Do you consider American psychedelic artists an influence?

PM: I'd say it was the music, fashion and pop culture of the psychedelic era that influenced me more than the artists. The combination of the playfulness of surrealism and the freedom of automatism is what defines my style the most.

My earliest influence was Wassily Kandinsky. My work started out with mainly lines and color. It was just later on, around 2003, that I introduced patterns and biomorphic shapes.

Other influences I suppose would be the surrealists Joan Miro and Hans Arp for their biomorphic shapes. An artist whose work I really enjoy, although wouldn't consider an influence, is Friedensreich Hundertwasser. I love his use of patterns and his architectural style.

When you say "automatism," what do you mean?

PM: Automatism was invented by the surrealists, using it first in their poetry, and later on in their drawing games. There is actually more than one definition of automatism. I've adopted Motherwell's definition of automatism as being "actually very little to do with the unconscious. It is much more a plastic weapon with which to invent forms."

Do you consider yourself more a painter or sculptor?

PM: I see myself more as a sculptor. What I love about sculpture is that unlike painting, you're actually making a solid object out of nothing, and not just pushing paint around to form an illusion of something.

My sculptures are done in either a plaster or industrial glue mixture which I started using in 2003, or in cast resin. I always paint my pieces to bring out the playfulness of the forms.

Tell us about the subject in "Xabin."

PM: "Xabin" was a commissioned painting for a 3-year-old boy. What I enjoy most about this painting is its size. Most of the commissions I get for portraits are a bit small, so I was able to put a lot of movement, patterns and color into "Xabin."

The kid Xabin and his family really enjoyed the portrait. They thought it really captured his personality and it was different from other portraits that they've seen.

Where can people go to see your art?

PM: Everyone can see my art at my website.

Currently, I have some pieces displayed at Lunduyan Gallery, 88 Kamuning Road, Quezon City and PROSE Gallery, 3rd floor, 832 Arnaiz Avenue corner Paseo de Roxas, Makati City.

Thank you Piaget.

The Intimacy of Slowness

BY JAY BAUTISTA | My all-time favorite moment is looking out the window when it is raining outside and the streets are wet. There is something appealing about it.

It’s the same feeling I get while gazing at Keiye Tuazon’s swimming-pool images. Her canvases swim with life. They have an ease about them, a fluidity, a calmness.

Ongoing at the 1/of Gallery, the exhibit title "Welcome Interruptions" could mean many things pertaining to Keiye and the directions she wants to pursue.

Keiye tells me:

“My fascination with water for my art started when I was in college. I used the image of a swimming pool to show personal space for a photography plate in Prof. Bobby Chabet's class. I was captivated by water's unpredictability, its movements. There is also something unreal about being submerged in water: The replications of images below the surface mirror issues of identity. My works are underwater images of people and objects that float, weave through, or swim around."

Keiye grew up surrounded by people who loved art deeply. Where art was on everybody's lips and came out of everybody's ears. Angono’s history of creative arts dates back to the 19th-century religious painters Juancho Senson and Pedro Piñon to National Artist Carlos "Botong" Francisco and the Angono School, to which Keiye's father and 150 painters of their generation belong.

On top of that, Keiye is married to trailblazing artist Wire Tuazon, with whom she helped organize "Surrounded By Water," an artspace where some of the most exciting young artists exhibited. (Think of Louie Cordero, Jason Oliveira, Lena Cobangbang, Geraldine Javier, Nona Garcia and the Ching brothers).

Having observed Keiye’s growth as an artist for more than a decade now, I must admit I have underestimated the painting prowess of this girl who has blossomed into a versatile painter. Mind you, after a five-year hiatus, she still holds that promise.

The comeback girl states:

“This underwater series started almost a decade ago, and it attempts to recapture images in a different perspective and explore the possibilities of the subject. Parang kasama ka nila sa ilalim ng tubig na sumasabay lumangoy sa kanila. Minsan you need to breathe.”

Keiye’s art explores slowness in relation to the fast pace of our times. Modern and postmodern modes of living have taken over not only space but also our conception of time. This is where Keiye's underwater images seems most effective in reminding us about.

She explains:

“The moving water serves as an element of defamiliarization, producing an ambiguity between the real and the unreal, thus setting new terms of encountering reality.”

Delan Robillos, co-owner of 1/of Gallery says, “I like Keiye's art. It is very interesting. I think she is a very consistent artist. In our art space, we like to give opportunities to young blood with great promise."

Keiye tells me:

“I want to explore more my underwater series, and I want to continue my work about twins (a subject I had worked on). I want also to do paintings that would investigate personal space, memory and childhood experiences.”

Summer is over. Take a dip for one last time, the water is fine.

1/of Gallery is located at 2/f Serendra, The Fort, Taguig.

Contraposto

BY JAY BAUTISTA | The story goes that it took Michelangelo three years to sculpt a slab of marble into the figure of his contemplative "David." The renaissance artist became so obsessed with perfecting the human form that when he was done, legend has it that he commanded the statue to speak to him.

After "Mona Lisa" by Leonardo Da Vinci ("Da Vinci" means "from the Italian town of Vinci," thus, I find the book title "Da Vinci Code" a bit odd, but I’m digressing), the most famous representation of western art is "David," created in 1504 as a symbol of strength and youthful beauty. This is the essence of what Mark Justiniani is rebelling against.

The rebellion implied in Mark Justiniani’s "David" does not refer to David's fight against Goliath, but to the tiny Pinoy with a slingshot perched on David's hand. It is a critique on the belief that art should be perfect, balanced and centered on western notions. By having the Pinoy aim at the "David" that has dominated our concept of what is true, good and beautiful in culture, Justiniani is asking the viewer to think on his own.

You have to hand it to Justiniani, his fine craftsmanship after years of rigorous training in drawing is evident here. In "David," he uses the medium to symbolically rebel against the “master.”

Justiniani's "David" shows his continuing struggle for a post-colonial identity. Yes, some of his contemporaries have gone on to other ventures like Pop Art, hyperrealism, or even something I call cuteism.

He’s still at it, and Justiniani will never get tired of going after the Governor-Generals, Spanish friars, Uncle Sam and the traditional politicians who continue to corrupt our lives.

I don’t think he is capable of painting a bad picture and the remarkable thing with Justiniani is that the soft, child-like strokes are loaded with a deep force that makes the viewer imagine new realities.

Maybe for him, there is something about breathing the air in foreign shores that makes him think and feel more deeply about his country. Sort of being a forced exile makes Justiniani paint even more beautifully as he ages.

Pinoy artists say that the best compliment that you could get from Justiniani is when he says, "nadali mo dito" about something that appealed to him in your work.

Well maestro, "nadali mo dito si David."

"David" is part of Mark Justiniani’s 12th one-man show, "Catapult" at the Substation in Singapore.

This Paint Boy Is Going to Rock Fukuoka

BY JAY BAUTISTA | For once let us celebrate Pinoy pride not in the form of a singing idol.

By the time you read this, Don Maralit Salubayba has packed his brushes and paints and is off to Fukuoka, Japan, for a three-month residency at the Fukuoka Asian Art Museum.

Started in 1999, the Fukuoka Asian Art Residency Program invites artists, researchers and curators to dialog with fellow Asians and hone their crafts. FAAM prides itself as the only museum which collects only Asian modern and contemporary art.

So far 34 people from 20 Asian countries have benefited from this program. After Alfredo Esquillo in 2001, Don Salubayba is the second Pinoy to receive the residency.

The First Don
A graduate of Philippine High School for the Arts, he received his Fine Arts degree from the University of the Philippines in 2000. He has exhibited at the Ayala Museum, Cultural Center of the Philippines, Boston Gallery and Kulay Diwa Galleries and in Scotland and New York.

He received an Asian Cultural Council Grant to participate in a residency program at the Headlands Center for the Arts in Saulito, California, and at the International Studio and Curatorial Program in New York in 2004-2005.

I asked Salubayba how come he seems to be spending a lot of time in residencies or invitations to exhibitions abroad. Is he more comfortable with a foreign audience? Does he feel more appreciated outside the Philippines?

He replies, “It is not that I am more comfortable with a foreign audience, I merely try to take advantage of any opportunity that comes my way. After all, how many residences are available for artists in the Philippines?"

"The good thing about residences is that, aside from being a venue to meet and interact with other artists and curators, it is an opportunity to concentrate on my work and experiment with techniques and ideas. What ever I learn and experience there, I look forward to sharing with others here—especially with my students at the Philippine High School for the Arts—when I get back."

Salubayba's recent show Images From My Floating Third World at the Drawing Room in Makati City has proven that all the years of hard work paid off as he deeply explored his indigenous painting methods, taking him almost eight months to finish nine works.

He adds, “I borrowed the phrase 'picture of the floating world' from the Japanese ukiyo-e prints between the 17th and 20th centuries which referred to the impetuous youth culture that bloomed in Japan’s major cities. The youth subculture were a world unto themselves."

“For Images From My Floating Third World, I had collected a lot of photo-based sketches and doodles. What connected them is that each were about Pinoy imagery: boxing, buko, barbero, etc. I finally chose nine images which told a story, then made them larger.”

Salubayba is one of the members of Anino Shadowplay Collective, a group of multimedia artists dedicated to popularizing the art of shadow play. Traces of his years in shadow play production may be glimpsed in his current work like in how he downgrades the interplay of colors in favor of shadows in Image From My Floating Third World V as the astronaut-like being sucks the marrow out of an alien. This is my favorite piece in the show and its odd shape makes me want it even more.

What emerges from a photograph image, blown up and painted over again and again, is a resonant picture of what Salubayba originally wished to convey. He is a force to reckon with when he deconstructs colonial representations like American soldiers, men in white suits reminiscent of pensionados in the post-war era, public school students in vaudeville costumes, and even small-town barbers.

The Don Deal
Definitely the Philippine High School for the Arts influence is a massive one for Salubayba. He points out, "The fact that the school gives a young artist four years to 'play' and 'experiment' with craft and to translate his ideas into art is a rare and tremendous opportunity."

Salubayba lists as influences: historical events, his baby, talks with his wife (“ututang-dila”), people, and Anino Shadowplay Collective. "These are the ones that fuel my concepts and image bank.”

Another major influence is his friend Bobi Valenzuela, the independent curator. “Bobi is a big reason for who I am today," he says.

"Bobi is a mentor, friend and ninong. I treasure our chats, debates, kape, lakad, byahe. Bobi always described me as a 'prodigal son' because I never listened in class (but was able to deliver when needed)."

Salubayba has only praises for his friend and mentor. "He’s a one-of-a-kind curator," he explains. "He tells stories through art objects and space.”

His Image From My Floating Third World III is a self-portrait as a young student. His face is under a cloud of doubt. What does he ask from the viewer here? What does it say about identity? Photographs transferred to canvas like this one show his struggle with identities in a post-colonial world.

In his book, After the End of Arts (1997), art critic Arthur Danto observes, “The new and curious thing about art is that you can no longer tell whether something is art by looking at it. Rather anything can be art and anyone can be an artist, as long as it is about physically embodied meaning.”

He notes, “it has become apparent that there are no stylistic or philosophical constraints. There is no special way works of art have to be.” This so-called "death of painting" signals a triumph for pluralism as the dominant visual narrative in the international art scene.

Being on the lookout for new forms from old truths in art, one artist I hold in high esteem is Don Salubayba. And I beg the indulgence of the Cultural Center of the Philippines, why is my paint boy not been named as a Thirteen Artist Awardee?

The Colossus and the Underling

BY MADS BAJARIAS | The history of Philippine-US relations is fraught with mixed signals, unresolved tension and good intentions gone awry. It is a love-hate relationship conducted over the bones of the half-a-million dead in the Philippine-US war. While some Pinoys have adopted a conciliatory "let's start afresh" attitude ("and let bygones by bygones"), some take a defiant approach.

Mark Justiniani is one artist who shines a critical light upon the forces at work behind the facade of our "Western-style democracy." For all the glitz that a US-styled existence lends to those who can afford it in the Philippines, Justiniani's "Stride" is a reminder about the tragic element in the Philippine-US bond.

As much as Justiniani tries an injection of defiance and fun into "Stride," a cloud of tragedy hangs over the work and brings to mind Cassius’s speech to Brutus in Julius Caesar.

Cassius:
Why, man, he [Caesar] doth bestride the narrow world
Like a colossus, and we petty men
Walk under his huge legs, and peep about
To find ourselves dishonorable graves.
Men at some time are masters of their fates;
The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars,
But in ourselves, that we are underlings.

Here Cassius aims to draw Brutus into the secret plot to kill Caesar. Cassius paints Caesar as a colossus and inflates the reach of Caesar’s power to magnify his threat to the republic. Cassius riles Brutus by suggesting how Caesar’s imperial tendencies are undermining the status of the nobility, to which Brutus belongs. If the tyrant is not stopped, says Cassius, “we petty men” will find “ourselves dishonorable graves.”

We all know how this tragedy ends.

Like Cassius, the anti-imperialist fighter and icon Kwame Nkrumah had urged the Third World to shake off their shackles. In Nkrumah’s case, the tyrant was neocolonialism, a term he coined to describe the situation where a state is outwardly independent, but in reality, has its economic and political life controlled by another, more powerful country.

“A State in the grip of neocolonialism is not master of its own destiny," he wrote. "It is this factor which makes neocolonialism such a serious threat to world peace.” That was in 1965.

Not unlike Cassius and Brutus, Nkrumah had his weaknesses (he had Ghana's constitution changed to make himself president-for-life) and before he could persuade other leaders to heed the dangers of neocolonialism on the developing world, the CIA backed a coup that removed him from power and sent him into exile.

Alas, the CIA had studied Shakespeare's tragedies, too.

In Justiniani's "Stride," the underling strikes a defiant pose under the shadow of a colossal Uncle Sam. Yes, the odds are stacked against him, but history (and Shakespeare) teaches that every tyrant eventually gets his comeuppance. And yet, history (and Shakespeare again) also issues a stern warning: revolutions devour their own children.

"Stride" is part of Justiniani's 12th one-man show, at the Substation Gallery, Home for the Arts in Singapore. The exhibit is organized by Art Sentral Asia.

A Heart Humbled by God, and Other Expressions of Faith

BY MADS BAJARIAS | I find that it takes a fair amount of self-reflection and maturity before an artist attempts a self-portrait. When 23-year-old artist Mark Andy Garcia sent me a picture of his “Self-Portrait with A Two-Edged Sword” to view, I was struck by what I believed to be a strong biblical undercurrent in the image of the “two-edged sword” being held by a seated figure with a bleeding heart.

I haven’t read the Bible in the long time but I vaguely recall that the image of a two-edged sword was meant to convey how the Word of God was sharper than the deadliest weapon. Many past masters have used the Bible as an inspiration for their art, and the young Garcia follows in this long and illustrious tradition.

I had the good fortune to ask Garcia a few questions about “Self-Portrait with A Two-Edged Sword.”

Tell us about the medium you used and the dimensions of this piece.

MAG: Oil on canvas, 48 x 36 inches, painted in 2008.

Where and when was this painting first shown?

MAG: It's being shown at West Gallery in Quezon City until June 11.

Does this work refer to a Bible passage about the word of God being sharper than a two-edged sword? If not, what does the two-edged sword mean?

MAG: Yes, it’s something like that. The image of the Word of God being sharper than any double-edged sword is from Hebrews 4:12. But there is also a personal context to it: in the portrait, the double-edged sword in my hand refers to my being both a Christian and an artist who seeks to find the truth.

Do you consider yourself on a spiritual mission? What mission is this?

MAG: I belong to the Lighthouse Bible Baptist Church. It is the mission of each member of the New Testament Church to spread the Word about the Savior and salvation through Jesus Christ. As an artist I take it as my personal ministry to create paintings with evangelical themes. I feel that it is my responsibility. It’s like being a preacher. A preacher tries his best to spread the Word of God to many different audiences. Sometimes, he is listened to, sometimes he is ignored or even refuted and scorned. It can’t be helped. That is like how I feel—I cannot control how people will react to me or my mission, but I am certain of my role and I perform my duty the best I can.

There is what looks like a bloody gash on the figure's left breast, can you tell us about that?

MAG: That is meant to represent my heart humbled in the presence of God. To be honest, it was only after I had finished the painting that I added the blood on the heart. My art is my journal where I record my thoughts and feelings. I am the first to feel blessed whenever I finish a painting which was inspired by the Bible or by the lessons from my pastor’s preaching. Even before I show the painting to anyone, I feel blessed, and it is as if my heart melts ("parang nalulusaw") when it is touched by the Word of God.

Can you tell us where the idea behind this self-portrait came from?

MAG: It was inspired by Acts 1:8, “But ye shall receive power, after that the Holy Ghost is come upon you; and ye will be witnesses unto me both in Jerusalem, and in all Judea, and in all Samaria, and unto the ends of the earth.” I guess I combined the idea of Hebrews 4:12 about the Word of God being sharper than any two-edged sword and Acts 1:8, and I related these messages to my personal life as a Christian and artist and I suddenly realized that the process of thinking about all these ideas was beginning to produce something special. The result of this was the self-portrait.

What do you think is the appeal of this painting to those who have seen it?

MAG: I think the strong contrast between the image of the sword and the meek appearance of the seated figure is the reason that this painting has received the attention of many.

What age were you when you made this self-portrait? Some artists create a series of self-portraits as they grow older to mark the passage of time and the changes in them. What does this self-portrait say about this stage of your life?

MAG: I painted it this year. I am 23 years old. I agree that it would be interesting to do self-portraits as one grows older. I wonder how I would look like in the next one? (Smiles).

The distant houses to the right of the seated figure look like non-Philippine-styled houses, can you tell us why you placed them there on the canvas?

MAG: In Acts 1:8, three places are mentioned: Jerusalem, Judea and Samaria. These places represent the journey of a Christian. Jerusalem represents the places where a Christian starts spreading the Word of God. It means the place where you, your friends and family live. When a Christian’s mission is done in Jerusalem, he moves to the next town, represented by Judea. After Judea, the Christian moves farther and to more distant places represented by Samaria. Anywhere he goes, no matter how far, God will always be with him. As written in Matthew, “I’m always with you even unto the end of the world.”

Can you tell us when you started painting?

MAG: I started painting in 2003 when I was still a student. That was also the time I started joining art competitions. After I finished college in 2005, I worked as a graphic designer, then after seven months I worked abroad for a year. When I came back last year I made a decision to become a full-time artist. This was what I wanted to do—to paint.

Which painters would you say influenced your current style?

MAG: If you're asking which painters I admire, I'd say the Impressionists and Expressionists like Vincent Van Gogh, Edvard Munch and Paul Cezanne. Who else? I can’t think of other names now. I like art which is based on personal experiences. I like artists who are true to themselves.

Where can people go to see your works?

MAG: My show is still ongoing at West Gallery, West Avenue in Quezon City, until June 11.

Thank you very much, Andy.

Salamat din sa 'yo.

Vermont Is For Lovers Too

BY JAY BAUTISTA | Their first show together was six years ago in a small gallery in Katipunan which I believe has already closed shop. They were still Fine Arts students then, and not even a couple. After numerous solo shows and group shows, they are back together. In life and in art. In sickness and in health.

It was raining on the opening night of Strange Familiarities, Familiar Strangers, the two-person show of newly married Rodel Tapaya and Marina Cruz-Garcia on May 20, 2008. It was cool inside the Alliance Francaise Total Gallery along Nicanor Garcia Avenue. Very much how the artworks were created, in Vermont three months ago.

Vermont Studio Center Residency Program is the largest residency program for visual artists and writers in the United States. Founded by artists in 1984, it hosts 50 fellows who are housed in a 30-building campus along the Gihon Reiver in Johnson, Vermont. For 12 weeks, the artists focus on their art without the disturbances of daily life: phone calls, meetings and visits from friends and relatives. What you see in the exhibition is a product of such a stress-free environment.

A mixed bunch of art collectors, cultural attaches and a significant smattering of Who’s Who in Philippine art gathered to witness what seemed like a wedding reception. I glanced at the couple who, once in a while gazed at each other, as they were separately entertaining their guests who packed the venue despite the bad weather that night.

What I like about this pair is that they keep on reinventing themselves, discovering their individual styles. Marina and Rodel represent a generation of artists who have chosen to be more personal than social. No grim-and-determined activism or calls for social upheaval on their canvases. They are about stories which are biographical with a deep and lyrical narrative.

Viewing the semi-circular hanging of the paintings, one wonders how Marina as daughter behaved in her growing-up years in Hagonoy, Bulacan. I imagine her looking at her mother and her aunt—twins—while she played with her doll house (an object she has immortalized in many a painting). Her Doll House show two years ago at the Art Informal (AI) in Greenhills was one of the best shows of that year.

When Recollections opened the following year at the same venue, AI owners, Tina Fernandez and Joel Alonday, could not have been prouder to see how her art has matured with each finished canvas or paper.

The subject of twin sisters (her mom and aunt) recurs in her post-Vermont show. How she paints a layer over a neatly painted picture is signature Marina. The red work strikes the viewer even more—this is the first time she has used red prominently. She also does so well in putting other elements like girly gestures and accessories on canvas.

The "Piano I" and "Piano II" immortalize the biggest fixture in the couple's perfect temporary abode away from home. The draperies here were drawn along the dark background, carefully describing what homesickness is.

"Bestida I, II, III" are another highlight of these randomly depicted images of Marina’s childhood. The colors of these three art works compliment each other so much that I hope they will stay together. As a child, Marina, I imagine, wore the dresses even how tattered they became. And when Marina splatters another coat of paint on them to give them a sudden jolt and another layer of mystery, do you hate her or love her for it?

Marina’s works takes you on a journey into her consciousness, then she suddenly pulls you back outside her head.

With these smaller works, Marina proves that she is versatile on both canvas and paper. One need not see bright colors or large images, as there is always something new even in an old Marina artwork. She is best in capturing moments like "Dentist’s Chair," or the unattended corners of their studio in Vermont. Meanwhile, "Ducks Remind Me of Home" and "Walking Through the Trees" are melancholic remembrances of Vermont. Why do I get the feeling that they long for Vermont now that they are home?

On the other hand, Rodel experiments this time, and viewers were floored when he came out with these Greek-like busts of people they met while in Vermont. He has memorialized those people who made his time in Vermont meaningful and worthwhile. This is how Rodel paints when he is happy and in love. Collectors can debate about his works; of how relevant (or not) they are in the evolution of Philippine contemporary arts, but Rodel doesn’t care as long as he enjoys making his art.

The appeal of Rodel and Marina's works is how they brought back an appreciation to painting. Rodel and Marina makes you think long and hard at each art work. One is forced to carefully consider the mystery and sublimity that went into the process of creation.

To look at a Marina and Rodel painting is to have a different attitude towards Philippine art. They offer a perspective based on a continuous search for signs and expressions of our times; their art is not academic or mired in postmodern kitsch. Art must enrich your life, and if the artworks of Rodel and Marina force you to reflect, then you feel alive and liberated.

To Marina and Rodel, may your marriage be boringly happy and painterly-wise.