Third World biennial? (part 1)

The first part of my article on the Bagasbas Beach International Eco-Art Festival is out in today's Philippine Star. I'll post some pictures here soon.


Third World biennial?
by Clarissa Chikiamco

This article is not about the Havana Biennial but about a curious event which occurred in Daet, Camarines Norte last May 31 to June 6. The third edition of the Bagasbas Beach International Eco-Art Festival (BBIEAF) transpired unbeknownst to many in the Manila art scene as it represented the Philippines as a biennale themed with art, environment and sustainability. While the Havana Biennial became known as the Third World biennial in its focus on exhibiting artists from the Third World, this designation may be more appropriate for the BBIEAF as this particular edition makes apparent.

Curatorial Structure

In the arts, a biennial or biennale refers to mega-exhibitions held every two years that are showcases for current trends in contemporary art. It originated in Venice, which had its first biennale in 1895, and gained momentum in the latter half of the 20th century as biennales and triennales (held every three years) established itself around the globe, done in the shadow as well of another formidable and expansive exhibition of contemporary art, Documenta (established in 1955 and held every five years in Kassel, Germany). The curatorial models for biennales vary widely as, in the early decades of the phenomenon at the very least, each attempted to make itself distinctive in order to jockey for visibility and position in the international art scene. As with any biennale, an evaluation of the BBIEAF needs to begin then by examining its aims, themes and curatorial model, which define the criterions of perspective to view it by.

Founded by artist Dr. Joaquin Palencia, the BBIEAF places its core in the belief that art is a tool for human and community development, themed as previously mentioned with art, environment and sustainability. It has lofty but perhaps foolhardy ambitions — “to share a new vision with the rest of the world, to foster hope, to make life better, to integrate Life and Art, Technology, and the fervent hopes of a Community, a People, a Nation, a World.” This incontrovertibly gives cause to too elevating expectations, particularly for the poverty-stricken people of Daet who are the target beneficiaries of the BBIEAF and the reason for its founding. As such, the festival is modeled on artists working with the Daet communities on the installation art component of the festival which forms its centerpiece.

In this installation aspect, artists propose a large-scale work beforehand that is to be composed using bamboo and materials that are to be sourced from the community. Once approved, the selected artists come to Daet, each being assigned a community and immersing themselves there for two days, including an overnight stay. Subsequent to that, the main site of the festival occurs at the shore of Daet’s Bagasbas beach — a quiet, clean and public beach frequented mostly by the locals — where the installations are built with the help of members of the communities for five days prior to the formal opening. Previous editions of the festival stressed a more local flavor of artists while the current one was more international with six foreign artists and one Filipino in this division. These artists were Chak Chung Ho (Hong Kong SAR China), Stuart Frost (Norway/UK), Emmanuel Herbulot (France), Irma Lacorte (Philippines), Mia Orsag (Croatia), Tanya Preminger (Israel) and Matthew Slaats (USA).

Fettered by little time to prepare for this festival as news of the approved P500,000 grant from the National Commission of Culture and the Arts (NCCA) came only early this year, the BBIEAF organization committee rushed to put this up in only a few months’ time. They approved all the foreign artists that answered an open call for proposals which fit the following selection criteria: (1) the artist has to be from a faraway culture so the impact of the immersion is maximized; (2) there should be no duplication of countries of which the artists are from; (3) the work proposed should require a level of interaction from the community in its building and be realizable.

It was only after the foreign selections were done that former National Museum director Cora Alvina was brought in as the installation art curator and chose Lacorte to participate as well. The third BBIEAF also added two segments which were not present in the first two editions: video art, curated by Japanese experimental filmmaker and video artist Takahiko Iimura, and public art, curated by Benjamin Edward Hughes II. The addition of these segments testifies to the BBIEAF’s aspirations of a biennale-like status in its expansion. As will be discussed in the second part of the article next week, however, these added components, were completely superfluous, deviated from the festival’s vision and strained the organization committee’s efforts and resources.

Contradictions

With such proclamations of attempting to make life better particularly for the poor communities, the central question that is to be asked of BBIEAF is how? Indeed, in a country that has an overabundance of the impoverished, carrying out a possible solution through art is impressive and intriguing, particularly since art has to still gain significant traction here in its recognition as an important asset of the country’s milieu and a potential source in fueling economic engines.

The manner in which the festival tries to realize this though ranges from the vague to the concrete but glaringly lacking measures. Discussion with the founder reveals that the festival intends for the communities to develop by unfastening the creative and innovative thinking of its members through the interaction with the artists and the problem-solving entailed in manifesting the artworks’ constructions. This thinking and the craft-making capacity involved are ideally to be applied by the community members to their own lives and livelihood — but only it seems through their own initiative. Nothing is provided to validate and carry this over in tangible fruition after the festival is over. While the sentiment that art swings open doors to creative thinking and is beneficial to anyone open to its possibilities is certainly agreeable, the indeterminate character of its real-world application was disappointing after much anticipation created by the festival.

These advantages also become negated by what is, it seems, the principal flaw of the BBIEAF — not paying the members of the community who help construct the artists’ works and expecting them to participate simply by volunteerism. The artist Lacorte shared that not even gasoline allowance was provided for her community team members to get to and from the working site and their residences and she related her troubled feelings as she witnessed one of her members fill up a precious 20 pesos of gas. While the participating community members were provided with meals like everyone else, taking them away from their homes without providing them with wages certainly would affect also their families who need their support, as Lacorte pointed out, in what is a hand-to-mouth existence. It does not seem like such a long leap to agree with her that the festival feels insensitive to the people they claim to be doing this for.

In terms of concrete returns, the Our Lady of Lourdes College Foundation, the host of the festival and the school owned by Dr. Palencia’s family, promised each participating community one scholarship for one of its members — the recipient, as indicated by Dr. Palencia in an interview, to be decided between the community. While the gift of education is certainly welcome, its benefiting one member of the community (and in effect, this person’s family) does not seem fair to the others’ time and effort in the project. Having the community also decide the recipient themselves also conjectures strong possibilities of creating rifts between them as people expectedly will jostle for the prize for their own family’s benefit.

The other way in which the BBIEAF attempted to deliver more definite returns to the communities was by providing them with free parallel seminars on livelihood, resource identification, product design and micro-financing. However, how far can these lessons go without more practical provisions for the beneficiaries to enable them?

Gratefully, there may be possible future financial benefit to some of the community participants though it is through artist, rather than festival, undertakings. Frost, who, like the other artists, has already returned home, is looking into sourcing raw materials from the community as well as commissioning work for his exhibitions overseas. He says, “For me I intend to stay in touch with the people from the community and work closely with (Imoy) the master carpenter. This collaboration I hope will not only benefit him and his family but also the community that he lives in.” He adds as well though that it “is obviously up to the individual artist in which way they want to approach such an opportunity.”

Reflecting on the festival, Slaats revealed a certain vulnerability the artists faced. “While the ideas of community development and support were there on paper, I am very curious as to the reality of long term sustainability or interaction coming out of the exhibition. The question of how does this dialogue continue was foremost on my mind the last few days of the exhibition and still is. How can I continue to support the community I worked with? While I’d love to continue the interaction, being on the other side of the world makes it difficult. I will just say that I’ve been inspired by these people and will forever be grateful for their hospitality and kindness.”

He made sure to point out though that these thoughts form a larger question raised by socially-based art practices. While true, the weight of these matters would probably not be so forceful if the artists knew that there was some mechanism managed or initiated by the festival to deliver concrete long-term benefits to the community from this specific interaction. After having done some creative training with the artists in the building of the works, it would have been rewarding if, for example, the community participants were to put this to practice in a practical arena for them, such as being hired in the making of furniture or handicrafts and really bridge this creativity thinking into sources of income. A tangible thing in place would sustain the benefits of the interaction long after the interaction is over.

Instead, though, the community development of the festival is afflicted by a pervasive uncertainty which causes an evident amount of pressure and anxiety on the artists who have developed strong emotional bonds with their communities. As the artists now reside back in their homes which indubitably have better and far more comfortable conditions, the concerns produced by the Third World-ness of this biennial must surely haunt them still.

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The analysis of the BBIEAF continues next week. E-mail the author at letterstolisa@gmail.com. Her art writings are at http://writelisawrite.blogspot.com.

"But I could do that!"

My article "But I could do that!" is out in Star today. You can click here for the direct link in Star or read it below.

The image I gave to Star to use is Lee Aguinaldo's Explosion No. 141 in the Ateneo Art Gallery collection. As many of you who regularly read me know, I'm cocurating an exhibition on Lee for Ateneo later this year. While I did not discuss Lee in my article, I felt it was appropriate to submit this image of his Pollock-influenced work. In the course of my talking about my work for the exhibition and on Lee, I have heard people (more often than usual) say, "But I could do that!" This article is a response to that. Indeed, the article is addressed to these people in particular, an audience I have to acknowledge I don't normally address in my writings on art because they're unlikely to read it in the first place (though I think my articles are often approachable enough to those without that much knowledge in the arts). However, in the offshoot I may capture some renegade non-art people into reading the article, I thought it would be worth writing as the effort to champion the cause of modern and contemporary art, though small, is worth it... Who knows - perhaps at least one person's perception may change?

I also have to mention here that not all modern and contemporary works are equal... Quality varies. Reading and regularly going to exhibitions and art talks both here and abroad will help refine one's eye and mind to start discerning quality. I did not mention this in the article because I felt it was going to confuse the audience I'm trying to address here but if one of those in this audience made it as far as visiting my blog then he/she should know - quality varies. It will be frustrating trying to understand why one work or one artist is valued more than others but it is important not to be discouraged. It is also important to look at museums who take a lead in this as arbiters of quality. I will - for the record - mention that not all museums are equal either... but I'll stop here.


"But I could do that!"

Many say this when encountering modern and contemporary art forms, whether for the first time or not. Framed papers pure white? Paintings of pure abstraction? Scattered everyday objects around the room? “But I could do that!” Said often in quick reflex, it is accompanied by attitudes which can range from confusion to good humor and to, unfortunately, the maliciously arrogant.

Certainly, I believe those who say this need to give pause. There is a necessity likewise, however, to understand where such quick assumptions come from. “But I could do that!” stems from a preconceived widely-held idea of art, mainly art as craft that gives value to creating images as they are seen in reality. It demands of art not only that it be figurative but that it be technically skillful — what separates the artist from the ordinary person. The medium commonly affixed to this idea is oil painting though it gives room to works using graphite as well.

There is some merit to this idea. Before the artist became artist, he was at first craftsman. It was during the Renaissance which prized the idea of the individual as genius that the artist attained high stature, though his virtuosity remained an essential part of his repertoire, a reason for his celebrity. When many think “art,” they think of the Renaissance idea of art, including its penchant for oil painting when its usage became popular.

While the idea of artist as celebrity remains popular today, much has changed in the time since the Renaissance, particularly in the last 150 years. The invention of photography, for example, freed artists from simply having to reproduce images as seen in nature. World War I and II had a huge impact on the art world — the Dada movement, one of the most singularly important sources of contemporary art, rising from the disillusionment of war after the first; the value given to modern art after its crucifixion during the second. Artists also questioned long-held ideas of art and attempted to subvert the institution. Performance, installation and video, coming to prominence in the 1970s, were part of the challenge to art as commodity. Conceptual art endeavored to resist the fetishization of art as object and placed eminence on art as idea. Multiculturalism and gender studies contested the idea of artist as the straight white Western male. The times also are simply different — the methods in capturing the dynamism and complexity of contemporary life are also in this age equally dynamic and complex.

This article, however, is not meant to be a lesson in art history. To begin appreciating modern and contemporary art, knowledge of art history is surprisingly not requisite. Indeed, the ones sometimes who have been actually quite receptive to appreciating contemporary art are those without any art background at all and therefore, with no preconceived idea of art. While helping out C3, an independent art space in Melbourne, Australia, I personally observed visiting preschool children happily engaging with the teacher’s questions on the art on show. The artist Christina Quisumbing Ramilo, who interacts and works with construction workers in her pieces and through her collaborative group Martinez Art Projects, recalled during an interview that the workers are interested and approach her about the work she does and that they encounter while helping in installation. Another artist, Lyle Buencamino, reiterated this to me as well in his experience with gallery hands.

While suggestions such as talking to the artists and the curators, looking up previous works of the artists, going to exhibitions regularly, reading the exhibition notes and delving into art books are helpful in furthering one’s grasp of modern and contemporary art, the real foremost condition to initiate its comprehension and appreciation is simply having an open mind. And with this, I would also add letting go of the idea that art should be beautiful — a pursuit, as Hitler internationally and the Marcos years locally have taught us, that in its narrowness and rigidity can be rimmed with danger.

Admittedly, appreciating it can be daunting because of the way much art is presented — cold white walls, strange specialist language, everyone else seeming to understand and, moreover, expecting the uninitiated to understand. To this I would say, it is essential for those who work in and with different kinds of art spaces to meet others halfway and be just as open to guiding in its appreciation. This, however, must be distinguished from spoon-feeding. Appreciation of modern and contemporary art will always remain elusive without some thinking of one’s own.

Let me recount as well two responses to this “But I could do that!” kind of thinking that I deem quite satisfactory.

The first response I heard over a decade ago, when I was the organizational head of my high school art club. Our moderator, the artist Pepper Roxas, had whipped out a book that I remember to be on Jackson Pollock and was showing it to us. “People say when they see this kind of work, ‘But I could do that,’” she said. “But the thing is…you didn’t.”

The second response I gathered from the director of the modern art museum the Ateneo Art Gallery, Ramon Lerma, while interviewing him for a different article a few days ago. He said, “Two things, I often challenge people when they come to a gallery and I hear comments like that — ‘Really? Let’s see you try.’ That’s number one. Number two, even if they attempt to, I ask them — ‘Would you be willing to spend the rest of your life just doing that? And stake your very identity on doing what you belittle as something trivial or facile?’”

There is a depth to modern and contemporary art so terrifying that it seems infinitely easier to dismiss it, to brand it elitist, to presume one knows better. Yet, for those who dare to take its ride — to open their thoughts, to open their minds, to let something change them in ways little and profound — the effort can admittedly be dizzying but so, too, can be its rewards.

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The author may be e-mailed at letterstolisa@gmail.com. Her art writings can be found at http://writelisawrite.blogspot.com.

Article pending

No article to post at the moment but I do have an article pending to be printed in Philippine Star. This article addresses the "But I could do that!" response of many people when encountering modern and contemporary art. As those who read my last post know, I was considering writing about it and I finally decided it was the right time.

My next article for Star will be on the Bagasbas Beach International Eco-Art Festival which took place in Daet, Camarines Norte, last 31 May to 6 June 2010. I was there from 2-5 June and while I will reserve my commentary on the festival at the moment, I will deviate from art a little to say that the beach was really great and it is worth visiting on weekdays if you are looking for a calm, relaxing vacation to get away from people. It is a bit of a hassle to get there - 10 hours by bus/car or 1 hour by plane followed by 2 hours by car/van. But the reward is a clean, long stretch of a beach with very fine sand (so much so it managed to get inside my watch), waters that are refreshing but not cold and most importantly a quietness that is difficult to find in other beaches that have already become well-known tourist spots. It's a public beach and you'll often find locals there swimming, surfing and doing other water sports (there are waves and the current is supposedly quite strong) but they aren't many and they seem to be just as happy in quietly enjoying the beach. I enjoy Boracay like many other Filipinos but I completely appreciated being able to unclutter my mind for a few days even as I was working on some things (writing about art) while there. I stayed at the beachfront place called Catherine's, which just opened last March. If you are considering going and have some questions, email me and I would be happy to reply.

Last month, I finished wrapping up an exhibition write-up for Costantino Zicarelli's exhibition at Art Informal, We are the kids your parents warned you about, which was held last March to April 2010. I had an initial write-up that was published in an exhibition brochure at the time of the exhibition but after discussing with the artist, I did some revisions to both our satisfaction. I understand he plans to make a proper catalogue for this exhibition and you'll be able to buy it directly from him.

Currently I am working on the exhibition write-up for Mark Salvatus' exhibition at Drawing Room at the end of the month. That + the BBIEAF article + more work on the Lee Aguinaldo show is going to take up most of my time for June. Things seem to look like they are only going to get busier from here - I will also be gone for a month from August to September on an art-related matter. I'll post more about this soon.

I would like to thank those of you who have reached out to talk to me via email or through other online means. I enjoy receiving your emails whether it is meant to be encouraging or to further discuss points I raise in my articles (or even just about art in general). They've come at a very critical point for me and I very much appreciate it.

Late in the evening and...

It is 2.30 am and I am working on revising an overdue exhibition write-up and charging the trusty Flip camera (which I use to record Visual Pond ARTiculation videos) for an artist interview I'm doing tomorrow.

While sleep is probably the best option for now given that I have to be up at 5 hours for morning tennis in Manila's humid summer weather, my thoughts are wandering about, such as:

(1) what is the topic of my next column?

I have done some initial research on doing an article asking how exactly viable is video art here as a collected art form. I need to conduct more interviews though and given my schedule for the week, it's not going to make it for the art's section Friday deadline. Granted that there isn't always space every week, I have committed to myself to writing for my column more often - ideally submitting every time a piece gets published. It may be 1-3 weeks sometimes before it comes to print but as long as I keep on writing and submitting after each one gets published, I'll be maximizing my productivity. I may really have to skip out on submitting this week though with several deadlines on my plate to Monday.

Another possible article idea was struck by reading this article in the New York Times a few weeks back. It was a review of an exhibition featuring artists from a certain country and the author questioned the necessity to package it as so, given how borderless/global we are now. I do agree at least with the point of questioning it, which has led to reflections of how sometimes I may be pigeonholing myself here with "Philippine art"/"Philippine art scene" and I would say that "I" is actually "we" - there are certainly a lot like me. I could probably rattle off some things right now that have been meandering in my head on this though I'm not sure if these thoughts are ready for an article yet. Perhaps it may ok to blog about them to start putting some form to it but I'm afraid of committing verbal diarrhea (as I think all of us online should be) or people mistaking initial musings as something definitive. Anyway, there is an upcoming symposium in Amsterdam on visual culture and national identity that I'm sure would help tease these thoughts out but if only funds were that free-flowing that I could just jet to Europe for a 2-day symposium, no problem!

(2) gosh, if those of us in the arts had a dollar for every time someone told us or at least thought to himself/herself, "But I could do that!", we'd probably have a lot of money...

How many times have I heard it or it's been said to me? Perhaps also this could be another article idea - to address this thinking that like it or not, those of us in the arts have to face that's how many - even perhaps majority - outside of the arts think. I have actually entertained writing about this for many years now but at times I wonder if writing about it will only be futile. Do the people who think and say that actually read the newspaper's art section? The people who read it, I would assume, are already those in the arts who have already bridged that kind of thinking. A couple of years back, I wrote a paper in university on what curating is, what does a curator do and converted it to article form and published it in my column. It addressed the questions I get very often, given that people I'm meeting for the first time usually ask me to explain when they ask me about my occupation. I still get those questions all the time certainly - that's to be expected - but I wonder if writing and publishing it actually made a difference to one reader or another. I wasn't expecting people to email me saying "Ok, now I understand what curating is" but, of course, again you can't help but wonder.

Though I do think answering "But I could do that!" would also be a challenging exercise.

Hmmm...

(3) blog revamp

As some of you might have noticed it, I changed my blog from "Articipation" to "Art Matters" ("matters" here is a noun and not a verb. The verb version is too much "carry the torch" advocacy for me). I want to stop with the cutesy play on the word "art" at this point - the ARTiculation contemporary video art series probably being the last for a while - and just make it straightforward. The blog is on art matters, particularly where I detail my projects, exhibitions and writings. My column in Star stays with the same name for consistency's sake and also, I don't mind that name at all really for the column. I meant "Articipation" as a play on the word "anticipation," a curious feeling that I believe pervades the art scene and contemporary art in particular. Yet, to have my blog under the same name is a little too much. "Art Matters" seems to simplify things for me.

A bit of change in colors - those who've been checking the past couple of weeks or so would have noticed. I think I'm trying to make it not just sound but look more straightforward.

A pang of regret - I'm wondering why years ago I decided to put this blog with this writelisawrite blog address rather than something simpler like my name? The reason then, however, I didn't make the address something like lisachiki.blogspot.com or lisachikiamco.blogspot.com is that my last name is misspelled so often. It is very hard for most people to get it right.

Still, I am tempted actually to move the whole blog now to an address of my name although this seems complicated. And well, really, what is an address if a blog is serving its purpose?

(4) quotes/citation confusion/"o" vs. "ou"

Some may notice that for the past couple of years, I sometimes may be using single quotes rather than double quotes that are de rigueur in American-style writing. Also, I sometimes may switch into putting punctuations outside of the quotes, rather than inside. This is, of course, a product of studying/having studied in an Australian institution which follows a different system for using quotes or citations. I actually still prefer the Australian system - single quotes look so much cleaner; putting the punctuation outside the quote makes a lot more sense in many cases - but I'm trying to get back into the habit of using double quotes, at least for my newspaper/magazine articles. Yet, by habit, I do get confused and become inconsistent at times. Luckily, my article is double-checked and edited for this before it goes to print.

I also do have to consciously pause myself for the spelling of certain words - i.e. "color" vs. "colour." I actually got so used to the British kind of spelling that it has been difficult to switch. Shallow things such as these give me an inkling on what it must be like for first and second generation immigrants to go through a cultural identity crisis.

Ok, enough meanderings! Time to sleep.

The Struggle for Philippine Art - Then and Now (continued)

Here is the continuation of my article last week, The Struggle for Philippine Art - Then and Now. In the printed and online version in the Philippine Star website, I unfortunately gave the wrong address for the Green Papaya website, forgetting to include the 'art' before projects. It's http://greenpapayaartprojects.org. Thanks very much to Green Papaya's Artistic Director Peewee Roldan for answering my questions and sending me pictures.

Captions for photos below:
>Bea Camacho's 11-hour performance at the Turbine Hall, part of Green Papaya Art Projects' program for No Soul for Sale.

>Yason Banal's durational performance "The Wrong Place" at Green Papaya Art Projects' space at No Soul for Sale with some young Brit artists and students.

Photos courtesy and copyright Green Papaya Art Projects.


The Struggle for Philippine Art - Then and Now

(Conclusion)

Last week I discussed some criticisms I had of the current art scene that paralleled similar issues outlined in the book The Struggle for Philippine Art by Purita Kalaw-Ledesma and Amadis Guerrero, written over 30 years ago. Stopping off in discussing the quest for international recognition, I would like to continue by discussing funding, funding structures and the pursuit to improve the quality of art.

In The Struggle for Philippine Art, it was related how that hothouse for modernism, the Philippine Art Gallery, founded in 1950, struggled to make ends meet. Founder Lyd Arguilla had even been “driven to tears because there was no money to pay for the lights.”

It could be said that the situation is similar today for independent art spaces that are brazen sites for artistic experimentation. Occupying a critical position that withholds from being swallowed by the commercial gallery apparatus and the supposed behemoths of institutions, independent art spaces, also called artist-run or alternative, provide a crucial threshold for contemporary art, a more accessible environment ripe for the speculative. There have been a few of these spaces throughout the years — those that have folded in the past decade include Big Sky Mind, Surrounded by Water and Future Prospects. The artists that have passed through their doors already form an important part of today’s “who’s who” in the art scene.

It seems inevitable, however, for independent art spaces to close. While funding for projects is difficult enough to scout for, these spaces need money for day-to-day expenses — the most difficult to find. Operational costs are the basic necessities which funding institutions nearly always shy away from, preferring instead to back output-type undertakings such as events or publications. Without stable funding, time tick-tocks on the expiration date of these spaces, which just like PAG 50 years ago, need money “to pay for the lights.”

One of the longest running of these spaces is Green Papaya Art Projects, founded in 2000 by Peewee Roldan and Donna Miranda. Their efforts in contributing to the Manila art scene were recognized in the invitation extended to and the participation of Green Papaya in the 2010 edition of “No Soul for Sale.” Billed by the New York Times as “the Olympics of nonprofit groups,” “No Soul for Sale” is self-described as “a festival of independents that brings together the most exciting not-for-profit centers, alternative institutions, artists’ collectives and underground enterprises from around the world.” Held in the Tate Modern’s Turbine Hall in London from May 14 to 16 for the Tate Modern’s 10th anniversary and curated by Cecilia Alemani, Massimiliano Gioni and the artist Maurizio Cattelan, each invited group had to be self-reliant in finding their own funding to participate in the convention.

After informing people and institutions for their need for financial assistance, Green Papaya received two major donations, one from the Ateneo Art Gallery and the other from art benefactor Olivia Yao, which covered the costs for the brochures and posters. Other donations and fundraising efforts were made and, while deeply appreciative of the support received, Green Papaya unfortunately did not make enough to cover the significant airfare, accommodation and set-up costs that are expected when participating in such an occasion. The request for funding to the National Commission of Culture and the Arts (NCCA) was denied, strangely because the event wasn’t in the “list of prestigious international events” identified by the visual arts committee. Post-event and after advancing personal funds to participate, Green Papaya plans to appeal.

Incidents like this show that the funding structure of the NCCA needs to be re-examined. The first questions offhand may be: What is this “list of prestigious international events” and how is inclusion in the list determined? Isn’t an event held at the Tate Modern prestigious enough? Yet, it only foreshadows more difficult things that need to be asked, such as how accessible are the funds for the arts to those who need them? Is the NCCA funding the art scene in the ways the scene needs support? If not, what concrete steps must be taken in order to bridge the expectations the art community has of the NCCA regarding what it actually does? The schism between the NCCA and the community seems to have gotten wider in recent years, the government having an increasingly notorious reputation as a consistently unreliable source of support for the arts. Support in tangible materials is obviously in short supply but it goes beyond that to demonstrate a demoralizing lack of appreciation and understanding of the government of its country’s art scene.

In countries which had been reliant on government funding that has been declining in recent years, art institutions, organizations and artists increasingly turn to private support, such as businesses, to fill the gap. Locally, however, these are wanting. The few businesses which do support the arts rarely do so progressively. Caught both by habit and name branding, corporate participation in the arts consists mostly of company-sponsored art competitions, some further marred by repetitive, folksy, nationalistic, value-oriented themes. Of course, by “art” competition, it is nearly always going to be painting or two-dimensionally based.

The Struggle for Philippine Art details the reason for initiating the Art Association of the Philippines competitions, first beginning in 1948, as being to improve the quality of art. In contemporary times, however, most of these art contests do not seem to really do much in this aspect. Its effect instead has been to inspire copycat painters rather than prestige, it has already become comic. How is this actually supporting or improving the quality of art, particularly long term?

There is money hovering for the arts it seems and there are also decent intentions as well. These funds and intentions need to be channeled in a way that meets the basic needs of the art scene and develops innovative and challenging programs through a spirit of philanthropy, which is quite distinct from sponsorship. The latter case is and would certainly still be welcome but again, it is a matter of having it in a proper conduit. It should then also be professionally branded enough so that corporations are appropriately recognized and would thus be encouraged to continue more progressive kinds of exchanges.

One example for private support may be in the form of bequests, given to museums here to upgrade their facilities or to play a more active role in collecting art rather than awaiting donations. Another example would be extensive travel grants and residencies for local artists and curators to exhibit abroad and to have foreign counterparts visit as well. Even something such as funding overhead expenses for independent art spaces, as mentioned earlier, would be a radical idea. There are many ways that others have surely already dreamt of. These can be discussed in more detail another time.

I ended the first part of this article by saying “The international recognition of a country’s artists can really sometimes be (only) as substantial as the budget it provides for it.” To this, as the title of the Ayala Museum exhibition of Purita Kalaw-Ledesma’s collection underscores, I would add vision as well. Grounded in concrete resources and a healthy sense of reality, an art scene can — and will — only progress as far as our vision can take us.

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Green Papaya is still looking for funds to cover the expenses incurred in their participation in the “No Soul for Sale,” festival of independents. Contact greenpapayaartprojects@gmail.com for further information to help. Their space is located at 41B T. Gener Street corner Kamuning Road, Quezon City; website at http://greenpapayaartprojects.org. The author may be reached at letterstolisa@gmail.com. Her art writings are at http://writelisawrite.blogspot.com.

The Struggle for Philippine Art - Then and Now (Part 1)

I'm posting my article which appeared in yesterday's Philippine Star. I've had some interesting feedback/reactions and I've been enjoying having a discussion. So for those who haven't and been wanting to, do feel free to email me.

On another note - someone emailed thinking that my article was calling for a board/committee to regulate the art scene and told me it was a crazy idea. I agree - that's a crazy idea! That's definitely not what I'm after and I'm hoping most understood it was really ethics I was advocating - a community that doesn't need a committee and written rules because it has the maturity to value ethics and practice it. There are always going to be dodgy people wanting to do dodgy things but if the community truly values ethics, it can regulate itself. If majority, for example, refuse to work with people who are guilty of perpetuating conflicts of interest, these people will have no choice but to conform to the "rules" majority abide by. It was actually quite interesting to witness this in practice during my time abroad - to see how their system operated and to question why it operates this way.

The Struggle for Philippine Art - Then and Now

The ongoing Ayala Museum exhibition “A Vision of Philippine Art,” featuring selected artworks from the collection of art patroness and Art Association of the Philippines (AAP) founder Purita Kalaw-Ledesma (1914-2005), is best complemented by a reading of The Struggle for Philippine Art, the book which Ledesma and Amadis Guerrero co-authored in 1974. Indeed, to comprehend Ledesma’s vision, this book is requisite reading as it outlines the difficulties in the Philippine art scene back in the day and how these setbacks were managed when artists at that time had yet to earn even the basic recognition as, Ledesma and Guerrero have written, “‘respectable’ member (s) of society.” Looking at how artists are today held in such high esteem and earning adequately (even highly), it seems that the Philippine art scene has progressed significantly from the time the AAP was founded over 60 years ago.

In reading the book, however, it seems inescapably that many of the issues present in the art scene then are still issues that are at hand now, albeit perhaps in different forms. Reviewing some of these issues seems to be a worthy endeavor if only to remind ourselves that, for the Philippine art scene, there is still a lot more work to be done.

Professionalization

A most salient issue in the founding of the AAP, an association for artists, collectors, benefactors and enthusiasts, was its professionalization. Unethical practices were a concern as were payment of dues, tardiness and its running as an organization. An AAP board member, businessman C.M. Hoskins, assisted in addressing these — having the AAP run like a business and putting strict measures in place so compliance on dues and submissions became a necessity. At that time, the AAP was a critical organization in advancing Philippine art so membership, and therefore the requirements for membership, were essential.

Today, membership in any organization is needless for those practicing in the arts (artists, writers, curators, those who work in and with galleries and museums). While this resembles art scenes abroad which have no overarching structure regulating it, it seems ours in particular is characteristic of an anarchic free-for-all, which fails to put a firm grip on — and a halt — to slippery unethical practices.

For one, the pervading artist-gallery system allows artists to show in several galleries. While there is nothing wrong with this in itself — even allowing artists more freedom — this also leaves artists vulnerable to being approached directly by collectors and dealers who want to pay only artist prices, even haggling for discounts, a very awkward position for artists to be in. The loose arrangements give too much room to those who do not have the artists’ best interests in mind. Galleries, for their part, will of course only take an artist so far without exclusive contracts or commitments.

The issue of fakes and authentication also abound. The prevailing system for authentication seems to be guided only by “experts’” eyes, or that of the artist’s family, and while the eye is arguably and will always be critical here, one wishes that there was a kind of science involved to ground these findings, particularly when the authentication is in dispute. The practice as well of charging percentage of the artwork’s value (for authenticating) or percentage of sales (curating in commercial galleries) are also inherent conflicts of interest that put judgment on the line. Flat fees should be the norm here.

Also existing are dodgy publications — a magazine, for example, that purports to be about Philippine art but misleads in its promotion of a certain gallery and its artists. There is also the case of a contributing writer in one daily newspaper who will write a feature or “review” on an artist — if the artist pays a fee of a certain amount. Writers for exhibitions, on the other hand, are fortunate if the gallery even allots a budget to pay them for their work, rather than leaving it to the artist as an option. Payment for writers by galleries should already be standard.

There are certainly other matters that can fall here — the art scene is not without its gripes or its scandals. Professionalizing the art scene, however, entails more than simply fixing procedures and having rules. It is having people recognize, practice and, most significantly, value ethics in the arts. While the AAP had been there in earlier days to try to have artists and others toe the line, for the art scene to mature in these times, there is a need for community and self-policing, grounded in a comprehension and expectation of trust certain positions and tasks hold.

Being Behind The Art Scene Abroad; The Quest For International Recognition

The Struggle for Philippine Art notes, ‘‘Foreigners who came to see works of Filipino artists during the early ’50s invariably commented that they lagged behind the rest of the world….” The same might be said today at least in terms of media being used. While video and installation have become the predominant media abroad, which is very apparent in the defining art exhibitions of our times — the biennales — most artists locally are still painting.

Artists should be able to choose their medium, whether it be painting, performance, photography, video or installation. There is absolutely nothing amiss in painting. The problem, however, is if patronage is situated in such a way that artists feel like they have no choice but to paint to make a living and therefore avoid or very limitedly explore other media in effect. Artists abroad can afford to be more ambitious in their undertakings, knowing that there are institutions and collectors who acquire media of a reproducible nature, massive difficult-to-store installations and art with materials of inherent vices. There is also the reward, for impressive artists of any media, of major commissions by different institutions, biennales and art fairs. Painting is fine as a medium but how dominant would the medium be here in the Philippines if artists were assured of the same buttress if they chose to specialize in something else? There are too few institutions and individuals who are backing contemporary art beyond painting. The art scene is not determined only by the artists — patronage should never be undermined in its critical role in shaping the art scene and creating opportunities for how far artists, as well as curators, can go.

Ledesma and Guerrero expressed optimism about the graphic arts back then, “‘Because the materials are inexpensive… and because one can print as many copies as one wishes, it has less appeal. However, through the years it has progressed from a mere hobby to an art form, and in the years to come, it will surely gain in importance.” Those in the position to give different media due importance are those who write, commission and collect (and therefore, preserve). Nearly 40 years after the book was written, art of reproducible media has still to secure robust support in the art scene here.

Interconnecting with this is the pursuit for international recognition. As Ledesma and Guerrero wrote back then, ‘‘The feeling grew that the Flipino artist was as good as anyone, and the only way to demonstrate this was to compete in international competitions. Consequently it became the ambition of many Filipino artists to be represented in the biennales.” While there are sprinklings of Filipino artists in such exhibitions, then as today, the Philippines has yet to make a heavyweight name for itself in contemporary art as, for example, China has in recent years. This, however, is not simply a matter of art itself. Ledesma and Guerrero, writing of the Philippine participation in the 1962 biennale, astutely observed, ‘‘When the Filipino artists and committee members arrived in Venice, they found that successful participation in an exhibit of this magnitude was not based on artistic merit alone. Money, government support, politicking and an aggressive or promotions campaign counted too.” The international recognition of a country’s artists can really sometimes be as substantial as the budget it provides for it.

(To be continued.)

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The author may be reached at letterstolisa@gmail.com. Her art writings are at http://writelisawrite.blogspot.com.

A little update

Normally, I simply post my existing writings in this blog or comment on some project in the works. Today, however, I thought I would go into a bit more detail on what's been on my mind, particularly having moved back to the Philippines after living in Australia for two years.

To recap, I graduated just last March from the University of Melbourne with the degree Master of Art Curatorship. My studies were undertaken as a recipient of the Australian Government's Endeavour Postgraduate Award, a merit-based scholarship. A few weeks after receiving my degree, I was given notice that, together with another student, I was on the University of Melbourne's Dean's Honour List, an award given to the top five percent graduating students in their respective courses with a certain minimum grade. I actually wasn't aware that such an award existed but it is nice and certainly encouraging to be academically reaffirmed for my work for the past two years, which has really been my studies.

So that was then and what about now? Well, now that my masteral studies are over, the question I get most often is if I am going back to Australia to work or go somewhere else abroad to find a job. At the moment, I am Manila-based and I intend to work here for the time being - a very conscious decision that is certainly not without its frustrations. I did have the option of staying in Australia but I chose to return home. The great thing about working in the arts in Manila is that there are so many things to do here and that can be done here (theoretically anyway). The difficult thing, however, is being stonewalled by things such as lack of funds, people with lack of vision, lack of financial compensation and age. Personally, it is quite a struggle to be hammered by these things, particularly having lived in Melbourne where the government provides a lot of funding for the arts, progressively having realized the benefits it gives to the state. The art scene there was a lot more professional as well and that of course goes back to the amount of funding an art scene has (whether by the state or through private patronage).

On the age issue, I must comment a little on it - as it is precisely an issue. I do feel it is difficult for me to be taken very seriously at times here in Manila because I am quite young and in person, I look even younger it seems (as I have been told). I would be the first to admit that I have a lot more to learn (I am even considering doing a second master's degree). But I do have problems with people being automatically dismissive of me simply because of my age, particularly when they haven't even read or looked at my work. Age was never an issue in Australia as is the case in most Western countries I believe. And having had at least a couple of incidents here where it was made glaringly apparent to me that my age seemed to be a liability, I can't help but of course be disappointed at certain people's short-sightedness.

Moving on to what I have been up to - Currently, together with my former teacher Boots Herrera, I'm working on an exhibition of modernist/postmodernist Lee Aguinaldo that will be held in the Ateneo Art Gallery at the end of the year as part of the museum's 50th anniversary. I have also been busy shooting and editing Visual Pond's latest project - ARTiculation, a Philippine contemporary art series online which features an artist for each episode (for 10 in a season). Visual Pond, for those who are unfamiliar, is the nonprofit organization I cofounded together with fellow art management graduates Rica Estrada, Tenten Mina and Cheska Tanada. We do projects together in addition to our individual careers.

For our first episode, we shot Mark Salvatus and for the second, we featured Christina Quisimbing Ramilo. I'll post soon separate blog entries with embedded videos but for now, you can simply find the videos in Visual Pond's youtube channel at http://youtube.com/user/visualpond. I am currently editing the third. The series is actually pretty straightforward information, aiming to be a primary and easily accessible source on Philippine contemporary artists.

Asides from what I've mentioned, I am also working on writing more regularly for Star, at least for what space they can give me. The first part of my article ,'The Struggle for Philippine Art - Then and Now', has been released today and I am working on the second part this week for next Monday.

I have also been reading on video art history or rather, histories in looking into seriously furthering my research and writing on video art here. I have 1,500++ pages of readings and this is probably only just the beginning. This is also groundwork into research I will be doing next year on the video art collection of the Fukuoka Asian Art Museum as their selected researcher in residence. If you have any books to recommend that I add to my reading list, I would appreciate you firing me off an email to letterstolisa@gmail.com.

And that's all for the moment, folks.