IT WAS revolutionary German
playwright Bertolt Brecht who said that art is not only a mirror held up to
reality, but also a hammer with which to shape it.
Arel Zambarrano and his
mentor Angelo “Junjun” Duarte offer an apt embodiment of this dictum with
two-man show “Juan dala Krus,” which opened at Museo Iloilo on Nov. 17,
unapologetic in its exploration of the ills of Philippine society and the
institutions that have enabled them: Two-faced churches, colonial mentality,
and a largely patriarchal culture, among others.
Through undaunted found
object art installations, “Juan dala Krus” summons the archetypes we all know
too well: The scapular-wearing mother buried in labada, the father who stumbles
home drunk after a night of gambling, the self-righteous neighbors with their
gossiping and rumor-mongering – while holding an unflinching mirror to the
cruel fractured culture of our country that the masses have become content to
accept as the norm: Widespread poverty, gender inequality, the "kapit
patalim" mentality.
“‘Juan dala Krus’, [can be
interpreted] literally,” explains Zambarrano. “Si Juan [the Filipino everyman]
naga dala krus. It’s the entire nation carrying this cross, [and most burdened]
are those who are treated as the lowest rung in society, the suffering
grassroots. They are the main inspiration of this show.”
Returning from a decade-long
hiatus, Duarte presents a dour yet somewhat nostalgic picture of the Philippines’
recurring characters and backward traits in his comeback presentation. In
“Bread Winners Diary,” he collects items that are often attributed to our
nurturing matriarchs: diapers, an old carton of milk formula, a carmen charm, a
prayer book – most telling is a box of light bulbs, as Filipinos have come to
refer to mothers as the “ilaw ng tahana.”
By contrast, Duarte pokes
fun at the male ego of alcoholic fathers in “Fit In Chart”, brandishing
different bottles of liquor, below them the labels “macho image” and “big time
image,” among others. Gender politics and the clash of the two sexes comes full
circle in “Aguantista (Broken Time)” and “Hearts Apart,” mounting the tattered
remains of a broken family – a mangled toy, a shattered picture frame, a bayong
torn apart, a wooden cane, the insinuation of adultery – on an unforgiving
white backdrop of paper doll silhouettes.
Most eye-catching is
Duarte’s “Tsismis (Rewind, Pause, Record, Fast Forward)” with its interlocked
bird cages and unwound cassette tapes evoking the Philippine pastime of hearsay
and backstabbing .
Zambarrano deals subtle digs
to these same unsavory characters in his series of wall-mounted installations.
With titles as gritty and defiant as “Sulod Dukot,” “Kunsintidor,” “Tirada ka
Alpot,” and “Punso Pilato,” his macabre portraits are pierced by needles,
partially burned by matchsticks, and written-over with harsh hand-painted
script.
No-holds-barred, Zambarrano
then goes for the jugular with his painting “Sometimes Inner Darkness Can Show
You The Light,” depicting a man holding a knife behind his back – complemented
by the installation “Welcome Criticism,” its crimson carpet littered with 911
sharpened blades in all, as the eerie music of Sugar Hiccup builds to a wailing
crescendo in the background.
“[We] want to provoke our
audience. The exhibit aims to impart insights and awareness on different social
issues in shocking ways,” shares Zambarrano. “[We hope] the series of
installation art will somehow move them, stimulate them, make them wonder and
think deeply about what they’re seeing.”
Zambarrano shares that
Duarte has been a constant mentor to him since his years as a student at Iloilo
Science and Technology University – then known as the Western Visayas College
of Science and Technology – adding that “Juan dala Krus” has always been his
“dream show” as it enabled him to work with someone who has inspired and
influenced him so much.
“Duarte was my instructor
during college. Ang concept nga ma two-man show kami and the title itself was conceptualized
long before pa, sing ara pa ko sa classroom niya as a student,” relates
Zambarrano, now the president of the Hubon Ilonggo artist collective.
“Juan dala Krus” opened to
arguably one of the largest opening-night crowds for an Iloilo exhibit in
recent history, drawing Ilonggos from all walks of life on Nov. 17.
“We invited our students,
our parents, as well as common people like our construction workers to witness
the show,” said Zambarrano. “We strongly advocate that art is for all, it’s not
only for the ‘elite’ or ‘high-minded’ individuals.”
“Juan dala Krus” shines a
glaring spotlight on Philippine society’s squalor and the struggles of its
masses – the hordes stuffed into congested informal settlements and urban poor
areas, the marginalized workers and farmers, all barely surviving “isang kayod,
isang tuka.”
But it seeks not just to
reflect these cruel aspects for more Ilonggos to see. “Juan dala Krus”
endeavors to serve as an eye-opener, or even a call to action, and hopefully
hammer, shape, and sculpt a better tomorrow – after all, Jesus Christ himself
was a carpenter – with more Filipinos becoming “mulat” and seeing the ills of
our oppressive and unfair society.
“I think ang exhibit nga ini
timely katama, to give a peculiar experience for the audience especially sa mga
Ilonggo. Its purpose is to awaken [them to the harsh realities of our
country],” concluded Zambarrano.
Photos courtesy of Eric Barbosa Jr. and ATMOS.PH.
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