DESIGN OF THE TIMES ] Graphic designers for Project Ondoy

Yesterday, Team Manila's Jowee Alviar sent a shoutout to graphic designers on Facebook to create a poster that will inspire people to do their share in reaching out to the victims of the storm Ondoy. Here, just some of the posters that creatively cried for help. From top left: Ali Molloy, Inidoro Graphic Design Lab, Tof Zapanta, AJ Dimarucot and Karrots Nazareno.

HITBACK! HITBACK! ] A Chabet and co. show invite from 1974

Piece unearthed. For a show in Lahi, Cubao. Image courtesy of Angel Flores, Jr.


(Kaya mo 'yung pun sa 'Peace on earth?')

THE WEEKEND IDEA ] Lena Cobangbang on our increasingly sticky situation

A work labeled elmer-jj_lo and, right, by Yvonne Quisumbing.

Stickers, tapes, adhesives, decals--you are holding something like it right now. You see these normally affixed to flat, smooth surfaces such as walls, folders, envelopes, mirrors, windshields, car bumpers,refrigerator doors, ...dresser doors, locker doors, flip flops, luggage, airplane tickets, fruit crates, shiny red apples, boxes, bottles, report cards, tin cans, washing machines, license plates, ID cards,registration papers, traffic citations, postal notes, price lists, electrical posts, metal gates, guitar cases, fenders, Gibson guitars, skateboards, surfboards, school bags, notebooks, laptops – everything it seems that need to be ascertained of its identity as a product, name, ownership, authorizing agent, point of origin, ideology, allegiance, nationality, degree of importance, expediting instruction, washing instruction, use instruction, content, material, etc., etc., etc. Its function as a branding tool and as necessitated by free market capitalism build up to a hypertextual landscape of meaning, desires, systems and neuroses. Contemporary life seems stuck from this surfeit of surface treatment that walls scream dread of horror vacui, holes howl of vapid voids. Peeling through these layers would only reveal the lacerated skins of this dread and the incessant need to patch up this dread.

Gallery walls that act as transitory tabula rasas now willfully submit to this anarchic decoupage. Not because street art has become in fashion and is fully accepted with its auspicious marketing potential, (well, partly it is) but it has been its intrinsic task as an institution to tag or be tagged for the surfaces with which it chooses to please its target viewers or clientele. It is an industry, after all, or another wall to be filled in and stared at. However, blank stares equal an anesthetized engagement.

Clockwise from topmost left: Cubao Expo 017, Mariano Ching + wewilldoodle, Phone, and Theresia Irma Aryani.

This show will hopefully bomb this white out on SEPTEMBER 26, 2009 at Mo_space.(Notice that we were very careful not to be too sentimental as to coincide this with 911. This is an isolated event and not in any way connected to anything of that sort.)

Post-its, grocery lists, stamps, sticker books, duct tape notes, bumper stickers, warranty stickers, star stickers, red dot stickers, character stickers, stickers of your own design, stickers with your name on it, layers of decollaged stickers, stamps, decals, manufacturing labels, programming manuals, campaign stickers, stickers on your niece’s sticker book, stickers that come free with your favorite cereal or chips, stickers that indicate your clothes or shoe size, band aids, striped band aids, seals of approval, seals of validity--anything that adheres to any flat surface or anything that has evolved from R. Stanton Avery’s invention of self-adhering labels is acceptable for this show.

NOW PUT ON A SCARF ] The inspirational book you don't have to read

The girl on the cover is Julie, one of Schuman's favorite subjects. "She is very chic but she is far from perfect, physically at least. Julie has one leg slightly shorter than the other, has very slim arms and walks with a very slight limp. However, she has never let her physical challenges...diminish her presence."

It’s not about fashion, but self-expression. People introducing themselves by way of clothing. By way of gestures, little nuances. As in a pocket square that, at closer inspection, reveals itself to be not just one square of fabric, but three layers—white and two shades of light blue—handstitched on top of the other, with three embroidered dots near the edge of a corner. It’s a woven friendship band on the ankle of a distinguished-looking man wearing a grey suit with abbreviated pants. A little flower pin on the peak of a suit jacket’s lapel. A fan. A hat. A glove. Or the utter simplicity of a white shirt and a navy skirt (put on a pair of pearls and you have the impeccable simplicity of Carolina Herrera). Forget the writing, it was never the author’s strength. He always sounded a little silly to me (this one obviously went through the eyes of an editor). The photographs are beautiful and inspiring. Nice to have during those days when there’s absolutely nothing to wear. It’s not about trends. It’s not Vogue. It’s more real and yet more uplifting. It’s about the man on the street being comfortable in his or her own fabulousness. Jerome Gomez

You can buy the book (a thousand bucks at National), or just click this.

BACK TO HER ROOTS ] Christina Dy on how to paint hair

Jonathan, 2009

CD started hair drawings four years ago as abstracted portraits. Drawn in a subtractive process, CD shades the entire field in charcoal black and simultaneously draws with an eraser and fills in details with graphite. The tangible and tactile becoming more so evident as the highlights are erased in. She starts with photographing her sitter's hair, then scaling up the images and abstracting them completely. They are anonymous, but present very intimate clues as to the identity of the subjects. How the curls fall or the waves turn, the angles of a widow's peak, or the twists of a crown puyo- these are individual and unique landscape markers of our crowns. Hair is our expression of identity, a carrier of our DNA, an organic marker of every person's individuality. One of the commissioned pieces is her self-portrait. The artist offers new possibilities of portraiture.

Nagkukulot kaya si CD?

We love Rez Cortez's hair here and this photograph, too. We just want to share it.

Christina Dy will be showing Roots, new commissioned portraits of her signature charcoal hair series, at SLab's 20Square Gallery from Wednesday, 23 September to Saturday, 17 October, 2009 from 6-9PM. CD is one of this year's CCP 13 Artists awardees.

THE 'NEW PORN' ] And other matters (un)saintly according to Peewee Roldan

"We have nothing that is ours except time and memory," 2009, assemblage with found objects, 6 x 6 feet diptych; and "Memory Box," 2009, assemblage with found objects, 9 x 10 inches.

"What is sacred? What is profane?" asks Norberto Roldan in his latest works. "It is unsettling how these terms can sometimes signify the same thing. Two words which suggest dichotomy, could either be one or the other at the same time." The mixed-media pieces were exhibited in a Philippine preview at the Mos Space last week, and will be flying to Kuala Lumpur to be shown at the Galerie Taksu on October 22. The title of Roldan's show is Everything Is Sacred. "What is porn? What is born? Graft and corruption is the new porn. And we all can be born-again pagans. Things take on their meanings regardless of captions. Profane is the new sacred."

"Sacred devotions(details)," 2009, assemblage with found objects, 3 x 4 feet

BEST PLACE TO WRITE #2* ] Where to stalk Jessica Zafra

We ask Jessica Zafra which, for her, is the best place to write. The author of the famed Twisted series, who is in the thick of doing revisions for her first ever novel, says she likes noisy restaurants. "I am forced to concentrate." Asked to name a particular one that she frequents: "Wild Ginger in Rockwell."

*House not included.

TARUSH! ] Social realism is just a "look." Or so says Manuel Ocampo

Background: 'Forward to the Sweet Tranquility of the Status Quo.' Foreground: Detail of 'Agent of Good + Bad Criticism: In Need of Plumbing,' 2009, mixed media, dimensions variable. From ongoing exhibit at Pablo Gallery.

Philippine Star:Who are currently your favorite Filipino artists?
Manuel Ocampo: If the world would consider Dan Flavin as a Filipino artist, since he uses the florescent tube (which was invented by a Filipino,) then he would be it. But jokes aside, at present among the post-painters I would mention Argie Bandoy and Jayson Oliveria. I like the way they’re rescuing abstract painting from the dregs of interior-decorator kitsch, corny spirituality, and high seriousness into something dangerous and tasteless, as well as obscene, funny, clumsy, and full of bad design and glaring missteps. If there is such a thing as abstract-jologs then their work would be it. I like Gerry Tan’s work in the way he reflects on paintings methods of anticipating and redefining its relationship to digital reproduction. He’s introducing new aspects and parameters into how we can use painting to question the digital barrage that is infiltrating our consciousness.

Robert Langenegger’s and Romeo Lee’s works are undoubtedly nihilistic yet there is an insane cheerfulness to their approach since their paintings are fantastically made-up jokes. It is astonishing, for example, how much the series of motifs employed by these artists overlap with those found in Rabelais’ Gargantua and Pantagruel. In the works, we encounter a humor of the immediately physical, and references to the topics of nourishment, digestion, sexuality, misery and death.

'How many depictions of farmers, workers, raised fists, chains, fat cats, evil businessmen and corrupt politicians can we take?'

I would also like to include the video works of Poklong (Anading). And the photos of MM Yu and Lena “D’hyena” Cobangbang.

Philippine Star:Who are the Filipino artists whose works you find abhorrent?
Manuel Ocampo: There are really no Filipino artists whose works I find abhorrent. I’m just puzzled by the hype surrounding the so-called “realists” — the type of works that are predominant at art auctions nowadays. I find their stuff retrograde and unimaginative. I’m also turned off by Social Realist paintings. I find the politics behind it naive and at times hypocritical. The way they are painted and the content, too, doesn’t appeal to me. How many depictions of farmers, workers, raised fists, chains, fat cats, evil businessmen and corrupt politicians can we take?

Social Realism is just a “look.”

From Igan D Bayan's interview with the artist Manuel Ocampo, published today in The Philippine Star. The entire story here. Manuel's Monuments to the Institutional Critique of Myself is on view up to the 26th of September at Pablo Gallery, Unit C-11 South of Market Condominium, The Fort.

BEST PLACE TO WRITE#1 ] We begin, of course, with mine

Adarna Food and Culture along Kalayaan near Matalino Street in QC. Been here a couple of times before. Not particularly delighted with the food, but the place is gorgeous (I let other people order). I like staying outside, in the non-airconditioned area. You can smoke. There's free wi-fi. I just order coffee, and maybe the fried lumpia so, you know, it's not naman nakakahiya. The barako was scary at first but I had no trouble sleeping that night (but then I also had five can of San Mig Light at an art opening, so). I went around 2pm, and its cool and quiet even if its close to the street. After 5pm, it seems political hangers-on make it their next place to hang. They talk about their new manoks and their latest moves. But I found out Mary of Peter, Paul and Mary died from eavesdropping on their conversation.

Photograph from the Adarna Facebook account.

POST 100 ] Starting anew

My working desk at home--on a good day.

Written for my last issue at Metro Home & Entertaining.

It took a long time coming but last July, at 35, I finally moved out of my sister’s house into a place of my own. She has just given birth, you see, and suddenly the house has been taken over by cribs and toys and feeding bottles, and this being the first grandchild in the family, my parents have been visiting the house more frequently than usual and sleeping over. Suddenly, there was no place to write and be quiet, and drinking at home just got less fun when sober people are looking. So I moved. A couple of blocks away. Baby steps.

My new space is a one bedroom flat in a lowrise condominium unit in Quezon City. Nothing fancy. Comfortable size. Far from the shoeboxes I found around the area which seemed just enough for one bed and a chair. I planned to have a waking life in my new home, not just sleep and eat Lucky Me Supreme. I planned to cook, have space to do my exercises, walk around, dance. I planned to invite friends over for dinner and drinks. But then you learn that starting a new life can take awhile. Acquiring even the most basic things can cost you, from the fridge to new locks and keys. Introducing another piece of furniture, no matter how small, eats another fraction of your much-valued space. Lessons that only really hit you once you put down work for this magazine and start building a home of your own.

I learned that you can’t just go on ahead and paint your floors in black enamel and not have it look like you spilled grease on it the night before. I learned that it only takes one fag to screw on a lightbulb. And that the one kitchen item you need to introduce to the house first is not salt or uncooked rice—because your parents said it’s for good luck--but a bottle opener. And everytime I walk up the two flights of stairs to my unit, and get a peek of my neighbors’ homes through their windows, I am constantly reminded of the simplest decorating adage: “Edit, edit, edit.” I realize that what’s keeping a lot of ordinary homes from being the nice, relaxing, visually pleasant coccoons they’re supposed to be is their owners’ mindless acquisition of things, things and more things.

'And the one kitchen item you need to introduce to the house first is not salt or uncooked rice—because your parents said it’s for good luck--but a bottle opener.'

Creating a lovely home sometimes doesn’t have anything to do with taste or the number of interior design magazines you’ve read. It’s about listening to ourselves, looking at our space, and deciding what we really need. Most people, me included, do not have money to hire designers and are left on our own to furnish our spaces. I look at my white space now and think I know that I need a few things but they would hardly amount to ten. “Ang kailangan lang naman natin kama at internet,” an artist-friend told me yesterday. He exaggerates, of course, but he has a point. I still need a small round table and maybe four dining chairs. I need a small steel table with racks to put my one-burner stove on. I think I can dispense with having a coffeetable but an accent chair beside my two-seater couch could accomodate another guest.

For the moment, however, those can wait for the next paycheck. For the moment, I’m good with what I have. A beige sofa bought many years back from a second hand store. A 5x4 painting of a doll submerged in a swimming pool by Keiye Miranda Tuason, the color of water matching the kitchen sink tiles across. There is a floor lamp covered in a white paper material, a moving-in (or moving-out?) gift from my sister. An old school sound system under a glass window that frames the sky. Piles of my old Vogues are now a sort of a low holding table for a Venetian mirror from the Kamuning vintage shops. A few pieces of art lean on the wall next to it. All other walls are empty, and I tell myself there’s nothing wrong with an empty white wall (because really there isn’t). In the morning, since I have yet to put on curtains, the light from outside is a good waker-upper. In the evening, in yellow light, even my crudely painted black floor works, and the place looks, dare I say it, hip yet elegant, like a small-time art space.

As I write this, I am also preparing to start anew in my career. This is my last issue at Metro Home and Entertaining. When I started in this magazine, I was coming from the highly stressful world of showbiz reportage, and Metro Home was a magazine that welcomed my resolve to slow down a bit. I learned a lot along the way: from the designers and stylists we worked with, the homeowners whose fabulous homes we featured, and from Carlo, my boss, whose exacting standards and superb taste is something that I believe is unique to this magazine. He is a relatively new homeowner as well. When I started working with him, he has just moved in to a house he built. From the very first dinner we had there in May of 2007 to the last get-together in July, very little in the house, simple and white all over, has changed. Each dinner, it seems, we are greeted only by a new addition, either a coffeetable decor from a friend, a custom-made piece from a furniture shop in Pampanga or Kamias, or a framed work bought from one of those kitschy art stores in Ermita. Each from a special provenance, each precious-looking in its own way. The house hardly ever looks complete, but it never seemed lacking.

Creating a new life is a lot like like creating a new home. Change eventually happens and when it does we wait some more to fit into it, to make it our own. And while we wait, we live and think and discover things we’d like to take in, bring home, little by little. Nothing special was ever made in a rush. Baby steps. Why hurry? Rat races are for the ordinary.