tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-68760714424425593222024-02-18T19:42:58.664-08:00monoblogueon love. and the trivial rest.Rody Verahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07768701772290052425noreply@blogger.comBlogger11125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6876071442442559322.post-65222494466249859972012-04-25T05:03:00.000-07:002012-04-27T16:46:51.669-07:00Theater in a "Damaged Culture"<br />
<i>This paper was presented at the Nation and Culture Conference commemorating the 150th anniversary of Jose Rizal last September 2011. Now published as "Nation and Culture: The Proceedings" edited by Thelma Arambulo. </i><br />
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When Rizal wrote “On the Indolence of the Filipinos” more
than a century ago, James Fallows was
not yet around to pose his theory about how damaged our culture is. Mr. Fallows
might not have known, however, that his
theory is not really new in this part of the world. It has merely undergone a
few transformations throughout our history, including and beyond the time Mr.
Fallows wrote his controversial article in the Atlantic. During Rizal’s time,
the laziness of the Indio was believed to be the main cause for his stagnation.
It was supposedly his indolence that brought about his own misery. Today there
are no colonial tyrants that blame us for our slovenly ways. There is no
dictator that instills in us that progress can only be achieved through
discipline (Sa Ikauunlad ng Bayan, Disiplina ang Kailangan.). In this so-called
democratic space, seemingly, we can
easily say what we want. And it seems blaming these evil tyrants for causing
what’s wrong with us now is not valid any longer. And so, then, some people say that we have no one to blame
but ourselves after all. And that blame, ironically reverts back to the very
same assumption that Rizal refuted. Only now, we are not lazy per se, but that it’s
because our culture is damaged. The damage occurred not just during the time of
Marcos but way even earlier. And it
seems the damage is so deep-rooted, so deeply ingrained in our wiring, so to
speak, that the only way to fix it is by probably imposing this cure on ourselves as a people, not unlike the very
dictatorship we have experienced in this country almost forty years ago, only “benevolent.”
<o:p></o:p></div>
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The thing is, for as long as our country’s miserable
condition is not alleviated, tyrants. politicians, media, powerful institutions,
such as those of religion, business, and military will constantly implicate
society’s culture, if not its innate characteristics, as the ultimate core that
needs to be changed for this poor country to emancipate itself. The friars and Spanish colonial masters
pointed out laziness. The American sociologists zeroed in on our smooth
interpersonal relationships (SIR), utang-na –loob or debt of gratitude, and
amor-propio. Dictator Ferdinand Marcos declared that it was our lack of
discipline that was the real cause of our stagnation. James Fallows
reinterpreted the SIR concept and found a more familiar name for it: delicadeza.
And many among today’s Filipino middle classes think we are simply just too
shallow. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Rizal, the very figure we are paying tribute to today, never
believed it was any of these. He wrote his novels, essays, poetic and dramatic
works, all impassioned and sincere, from one clear perspective: That it is not
our culture, but who profits most from the inequality and the misery, the injustice
and impunity, the corruption and greed
that will determine why and how our country has gotten into this mess. That our
cultural behavior, that which is truly ingrained in us, does not make us
corrupt. Rather corruption and greed, impunity and injustice have all been
using our cultural practices as alibis and instruments, the way a rapist will
blame the pornographic material he has been reading as gagging his own sense of
responsibility and allowing him to commit a crime (Sapagka’t ako’y lalaki,
natural lang iyon). To be sure,
corruption and greed have indeed utilized our very own cherished values of
utang-na-loob, pakikisama, etc. Our close family ties and our adherence to
delicadeza or our being non-confrontational in the interest of smooth
relationships have all contributed to sealing corrupt transactions and
exploitative deals. But is this evidence
to suggest that it is our culture that is damaged? Any culture is always
context-specific. It enriches societies if the context is appropriate. Our
modern set-up, imposed on us by American tutelage for example has not taken
Filipino culture in serious consideration. It has, in fact demanded that we do
away with how we think, denigrated our values as primitive and untenable in the
context of democracy and individualism. Taken from this angle, our culture has indeed been damaged. But as
Rizal may have pointed out in his essay more than a hundred years ago—who made
this so and who profited most from it? <o:p></o:p></div>
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It is important that we do not distract ourselves from
answering this crucial question. For once we figure out a clear reply, only
then do we realize that it is not culture that we have to change, but the
purveyors of the damage they have wreaked on us.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Mass media has been the most pervasive, most influential
festering agent of this so called “cultural damage”. It has effectively reduced
our cherished cultural values to promote materialism in its most crass and
shallowest sense, even utilizing the urgent struggle of poor Filipinos for
survival as its hypocritical measure for Christian charity, for example.
Politicians, businessmen, religious institutions, and the rest of the
influential elite have profited most from the power that mass media can wield
to spin this myth and feed the masses in daily doses. <o:p></o:p></div>
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For instance, democracy, a revered political exercise, has
been touted by politicians and the State as the weapon of the majority. Therefore
the perversion of this political exercise can only be blamed on the very
majority who choose their leaders foolishly. Voting wisely is the universal
credo that will supposedly make way for a brighter political future of our
nation. And if and when poverty and injustice remain unabated after each
electoral process, there is no one to blame but the voters who chose unwisely.
Never the politicians nor the system that has made a travesty of democracy by
reducing the power of that majority to ten minutes of casting ballots once
every three years. For in truth, that is how democracy is practiced and
encouraged in this nation: A total of one election day every three years. To add insult to injury, it is not even the votes that really matter in
our country. For votes, in this country, as we have plainly seen, are spoiled,
par for the course, every election day—that singular window of lending power to
the people! Is this a sign of a damage
in culture. Possibly. Who is culpable? The unwise voter who is increasingly
losing faith in the process, or the purveyor of a sham democracy that lays
blame on the voiceless voter every time government fails to govern well?<o:p></o:p></div>
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When military generals stole money from government coffers
and paid themselves hefty bonuses, they invoked the soldier’s adherence to a
Filipino fraternal spirit. This fraternal loyalty taken from a more appropriate
context may have been one of the fundamental tenets of the Philippine
Revolution. Kapatiran, which not only derives from the principles of Andres
Bonifacio’s underground organization but also from the tenets of the French
Revolution, ennobles a brotherhood that demands the highest loyalty to a sacred
cause, such as freedom. As we have witnessed in our scandal-ridden times, this
value has been stripped of its noble cause, the object of which has made a
travesty of the value itself.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Apart from context, there is also the matter of proportion.
When the poor disillusioned voter accepts money from the vote-buying candidate,
media and politicians blame the voter
for selling his future, graciously forgetting that as a matter of history,
whether or not he voted, his future has
never been the government’s genuine concern. Pragmatism is what drives many
poor voters to sell their votes. Because they sincerely know with desperation
that this single election day, is the only day they can enjoy democracy,
despite how phony it really is. <o:p></o:p></div>
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The poor corrupt citizen stands no chance against the big-time
corrupt official who pockets billions of taxpayer’s money. For one, their motives are completely
different. One is motivated by necessity, the other by greed. Many huge multinational companies and government campaigns call for
environmental initiatives from the common people to take care of the earth. While all these are filled with good intentions, it is still a
fact that 90% of today’s environmental hazards do not come from the wastefulness
of the ordinary citizen but from the terrible destructiveness that the
largest and most profitable companies
in rich nations, as well as their
subsidiaries in our part of the world wreak on our atmosphere, our water
systems, and the earth’s soils. <o:p></o:p></div>
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One cannot blame a naton’s culture for the prevalence of
corruption and greed because greed itself is universal. Our revolutionary spirit has always come to
the fore whenever we Filipinos think that we have been pushed against the wall.
We may have experienced a fatigue of this revolutionary spirit as expressed in
conventional modes but it eventually finds ways of manifesting itself, ways
which even the most disillusioned and pessimistic citizen may not foresee.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We know how depressing our nation’s condition can be,
especially if we compare ourselves to our Asian neighbors. Many of us would
harp on about the Philippine’s past splendor and at the same time blame what
has been ingrained in us for hundreds of years as the main cause for this
splendor’s decline. This is simply not logical.
I believe that much of what has happened to our country is hidden in our
history. A history unfettered by
interests other than the truth. The
search for these answers requires a strong political will coming from a band of
new ilustrados, armed with the shiniest light of truth. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I declare that theater artists in the Philippines are made
of that same mettle, members of that band, torchbearers of truth. We have had
an illustrious history since the turn of the 20<sup>th</sup> century, when
theater artists have kept the revolutionary fervor aflame against colonial
invaders. Theater artists, spearheaded by visionary playwrights have
consistently committed to uphold truth. The truth about greed, about class
conflict, about the hypocrisy of religion, the real causes of poverty, the poverty
of dignity and honor in government and other powerful institutions, the
insidiousness of the profit motive in big business, the pretense of the elite.
Nowhere in all other forms of media, especially mass media, have these
fundamental issues been genuinely addressed. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Furthermore, Philippine theater practice has arguably been
the fiercest proponent of advancing a Filipino culture that is alive, sincere, critical, dignified, liberating and
empowering. It is the closest to its audience, both literally and spiritually. Its
educational impact has not been compromised by commercial interests such as
television, radio and film. Even the most commercial ventures in Philippine
Theater today cannot blink or turn a blind eye on the most pressing problems of
our country. It seems that much of theater in the Philippines, both community,
and semi-professional have an unspoken bond to pursue truth and freedom.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Committed theater artists have never believed that Philippine culture is damaged, nor have they
viewed Filipinos as shallow. Probably
because much of what we do in our work refutes all these ridiculous assumptions.
We do acknowledge the damage done by corrupt politicians, corrupt businessmen,
power-hungry and greedy tyrants and their military minions to our social and
economic fabric. We are also alarmed by
the shallowness and hollowness of meaning in the most powerful forms of media
in our country. We are also alarmed by the apathy of many citizens whose
disheartening response to the mess around them is to go abroad thereby defusing
a revolutionary fervor for genuine social change. If anything, it is not our
culture that is damaged but our belief in the empowering quality of that
culture. <o:p></o:p></div>
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My collaboration experiences with other theater artists in
other Asian countries have made me realize that the greatness of any form of
expression can be seen where one’s own culture is proudly embedded and aligned
within the context of its present environment. That instead of denying our
culture and shedding our true selves in exchange for the cosmopolitan, global
standard—we seek to incorporate our culture and modify this standard to fit our
own needs and aspirations. That instead of vainly trying to seek world-class
recognition from others, we start knowing more about ourselves and set our own
goals without seeking anyone else’s approval.
For only then will the world see us in our own terms, and only then will
world-class recognition be genuinely achieved.<o:p></o:p></div>
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This is much of what Philippine theater practitioners
consciously or unconsciously do.
Admittedly, while many theater artists have given up by crossing over to
television and commercial ventures, or worse, gone abroad albeit for very
pressing reasons, the pool from which Philippine theater draws its strength:
idealistic youth, committed artists, people concerned with community and social
issues, enlightened and creative generations, people who have in them a defined
cultural character unmistakably Pinoy – all have replenished and continue to replenish an increasingly vibrant
art form. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Filipino playwrights are the most dedicated writers, knowing
fully well that theater is not a lucrative occupation. Yet some of them persist in writing for the
theater because the fulfillment of expressing uncompromising truth is supreme to
any other fulfillment offered by its more commercial and bogus counterparts in
mass media. <o:p></o:p></div>
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And yet, hardly any
government or corporate support is handed to this small band of artists. Is it
because many in government and business know only fully well, that when they
engage with a genuine truth seeker, the truth about their own perverse
corruptions will necessarily be exposed on stage? <o:p></o:p></div>
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The commitment of the theater artists lies not only in their
commitment to the craft, but their sincerity and commitment to truth. Anything
short of this shows in their work on stage as mere artifice. <o:p></o:p></div>
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This same commitment to excellence and truth have made us
believe that our culture is the only thing we can rely on. And that to believe
that it falls far short of what we can become is our fundamental national
tragic flaw. <o:p></o:p></div>Rody Verahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07768701772290052425noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6876071442442559322.post-25240153970878807932011-06-20T00:18:00.000-07:002011-06-20T00:20:52.055-07:00Plus 2 more posters form the Virgin Labfest 7<div>2 more Posters </div><div>Virgin Labfest Year 7 </div><div><br /></div><div>June 29 to July 10, 2011</div><div>Tanghalang Huseng Batute</div><div>Cultural Center of the Philippines</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcOKC6VFVaijUJdUiYW8KaT_JttXKZMNXUsBIMiWwP0hF7lywZa4_tdkPSE4jH4FeINM26tS8nofxIq4h3fV0EQH8hBKhftN90xQjOibZrdNX7ect4bQ-hw09vlqbL6lBJp-2T7UyeuC2T/s1600/Valley+Mission+Care.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 226px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcOKC6VFVaijUJdUiYW8KaT_JttXKZMNXUsBIMiWwP0hF7lywZa4_tdkPSE4jH4FeINM26tS8nofxIq4h3fV0EQH8hBKhftN90xQjOibZrdNX7ect4bQ-hw09vlqbL6lBJp-2T7UyeuC2T/s320/Valley+Mission+Care.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620198066633631746" /></a><br /><div><!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"">VALLEY MISSION CARE by Russel Legaspi, directed by Missy Maramara<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"">Featuring: Siegfried Sepulveda, Mayen Estanero, Richard Cunanan<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman""><o:p> </o:p></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; ">An Old Man, Francisco finds himself stuck between the comfortable landscape of a Nursing institute and the Promise he holds dearly to be with his love. A promise he intends to keep even if it means he dies trying.</span></p> <!--EndFragment--> </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdtQlH0fswTZj6FyoxLjnnQiZxK4Ai0lOUbgxlUomTqxMwLphwc6n6RAJgMdKghgs0oIe6xw9LRLCvLwhQoZuZ1ewFHRDL11x8gUlNOHLPvu_byskI-OT7o9u6e0GxBfad3LTAbwK8_uEi/s1600/Streetlight+Manifesto.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdtQlH0fswTZj6FyoxLjnnQiZxK4Ai0lOUbgxlUomTqxMwLphwc6n6RAJgMdKghgs0oIe6xw9LRLCvLwhQoZuZ1ewFHRDL11x8gUlNOHLPvu_byskI-OT7o9u6e0GxBfad3LTAbwK8_uEi/s320/Streetlight+Manifesto.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620198062456023362" /></a> <!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"">STREETLIGHT MANIFESTO by Mixcaela Villalon, directed by Ed Lacson<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"">Featuring: Paolo O’Hara, Adrienne Vergara, Bong Cabrera, Ness Roque<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; ">Every night, a streetlight is the lone witness to the meetings between two hired killers responsible for the string of murders in a particular area in Manila— and every day, dead bodies are left underneath it for a police detective to find, and a young journalist to investigate and report. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">Streetlight Manifesto </i>tackles the subjective nature of truth and justice, and frames the discussion on dignity of work amist the backdrop of Manila’s business casual culture of violence. But for every day the investigation remains unresolved, the body count continues to rise.</span></p> <!--EndFragment--> </div>Rody Verahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07768701772290052425noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6876071442442559322.post-47709203272203482812011-06-20T00:09:00.001-07:002011-06-20T00:18:07.827-07:00The Virgin Labfest Posters 1<div>5 Posters from Virgin Labfest Year 7 entries.</div><div><br /></div><div>June 29 to July 10, 2011</div><div>Tanghalang Huseng Batute (Studio Theater)</div><div>Cultural Center of the Philippines</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkcwrHJVjo4eloURWda9aJmbYOm_woLr7W4pEPATb6CwqZ4gyvPm57c284H-lTUVLKz6cPdSwgS7sFwjKPOfDFmvQJPn94wyMiizQH1_GOfj0S0bNBmM4ziCP6XL0ZX_UfgyPGfSgltx-I/s1600/Portrait.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 192px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkcwrHJVjo4eloURWda9aJmbYOm_woLr7W4pEPATb6CwqZ4gyvPm57c284H-lTUVLKz6cPdSwgS7sFwjKPOfDFmvQJPn94wyMiizQH1_GOfj0S0bNBmM4ziCP6XL0ZX_UfgyPGfSgltx-I/s320/Portrait.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620196418962824290" /></a><div><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"">ISANG GABI BAGO MAGBUKAS ANG “A PORTRAIT OF THE ARTIST AS FILIPINO” NI NICK JOAQUIN by Carlo Pacolor Garcia, directed by Paul Santiago<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"">Featuring: Angelina Kanapi, Che Ramos, Christian Bautista, Roeder Camañag, Lao rodriguez, Olive Nieto, Chromewell Cosio, Kathlyn Castillo, Acey Aguilar, Yong Tapang, Roli Inocencio, Skyzx Labastilla, Russel Legaspi, Irene Delarmente, Joel Saracho<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman""><o:p> </o:p></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; ">Just another typical night at the theater: the director’s mad, stage manager’s losing his wit, and the actors are, well, acting up—until one by one, they all start dying. Then the fun suddenly begins: who’s out to get a bunch of old and forgotten stars trying to get another break; why here and why now, why <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">The Portrait</i>; perhaps a prank,a pure coincidence; or has the past finally decided to play cat and mouse? It was a dark and stormy night, indeed, and everyone’s a suspect. Look sharp, find your light, and break a leg!</span></p> <!--EndFragment--> </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdwwj81-Ppl8j3bPehW_cCWZYu2zEWjbrZrKCWXp8vMU3oalOs0fatHRHaoiv2KRFMLZ422zHcklVoB37ZAEHPRwL_OFYCVHaJHfZjrqfeIPjQXv1xbDH6N5fdj4uOk8G4BVzqMblF0iMj/s1600/Ondoy+VLF6+Revisited.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdwwj81-Ppl8j3bPehW_cCWZYu2zEWjbrZrKCWXp8vMU3oalOs0fatHRHaoiv2KRFMLZ422zHcklVoB37ZAEHPRwL_OFYCVHaJHfZjrqfeIPjQXv1xbDH6N5fdj4uOk8G4BVzqMblF0iMj/s320/Ondoy+VLF6+Revisited.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620196409381712370" /></a> <!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"">ONDOY by Remi Velasco , directed by Ed Lacson<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"">Featuring: Cai Cortez, Jelson Bay<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman""><o:p> </o:p></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; ">If you were trapped on your rooftop with nothing but only your wimp husband or <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>nagging wife in the middle of the tragic typhoon Ondoy, what would you wish for? Mercy demanded for an annulment while Obet wanted only his son to stay and Mercy to be booted out of “roof.” The storm begins, the battle begins. The couple’s struggle to save their lives was awkwardly turned into a fight, crystallizing their own family “storm” – their chronic, even futile problems. But when Ondoy subsided, who will be booted out?</span></p> <!--EndFragment--> </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjuEHWt_7jgWBfJd_20OgN2OcFWXZAxAf2PZkBNsH5Yl9aTLdpKzo9xx_M3yx6mLtN6nWfw9X8b7Byb2_0gBnB6hknLXuAClLHo-W2UQt04iuYDeGqFmSROg2HNE8NJLzJvHqurOX1JL0p/s1600/Mga+Lobo+Tulad+ng+Buwan.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 156px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjuEHWt_7jgWBfJd_20OgN2OcFWXZAxAf2PZkBNsH5Yl9aTLdpKzo9xx_M3yx6mLtN6nWfw9X8b7Byb2_0gBnB6hknLXuAClLHo-W2UQt04iuYDeGqFmSROg2HNE8NJLzJvHqurOX1JL0p/s320/Mga+Lobo+Tulad+ng+Buwan.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620196397668369362" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; ">MGA LOBO TULAD NG BUWAN, writtend and directed by Pat Valera</span></div><div> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"">Featuring: Mary Jane Alejo, Katte Sabata, Chic San Agustin<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; ">A mother, wife and daughter remain in the realm of resistance to seek justice. Each has lost a loved one from the tragic sinking of MV Princess of the Stars where 773 people died. One of the worst maritime disasters in recent years, the vessel sank because of the shipping line’s insistence to sail amidst a looming typhoon.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; ">Three years since the sinking, the women persist. However, they slowly forget. Time consumes them, great powers offer bribes, the cost of the struggle becomes insurmountable. Most of all, the memory of pain stabs each time it is remembered. Some succumb to the solace of oblivion, leaving the seemingly endless battle while some remain amidst certain pain and uncertain answers.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-ansi-language:EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></b><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"MS 明朝";mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-ansi-language:EN-GB;mso-fareast-language: EN-US;mso-bidi-language:AR-SA;mso-bidi-font-weight:bold">This</span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size:12.0pt;font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-fareast-font-family: "MS 明朝";mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:EN-GB;mso-fareast-language:EN-US;mso-bidi-language:AR-SA"> is an elegy for all those lost at sea and their relatives left behind. This play allows us to understand their struggle. </span></p></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYoEL60ffLRywzavPPKLFPxWhUKuR1P0orzOZ6LEChQeI6EEaIUFLZfkFbEemnlu_y2w5X1z55_oQJytr336t0Bf6YUrLOWO9asesbUjgM4R5lrRe87PDYVMCBm5Rku7snmD9_spXeqw9e/s1600/Kafatiran.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 233px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYoEL60ffLRywzavPPKLFPxWhUKuR1P0orzOZ6LEChQeI6EEaIUFLZfkFbEemnlu_y2w5X1z55_oQJytr336t0Bf6YUrLOWO9asesbUjgM4R5lrRe87PDYVMCBm5Rku7snmD9_spXeqw9e/s320/Kafatiran.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620196385193743170" /></a> <!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"">KAFATIRAN by Ricardo Novenario, directed by JK Anicoche<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"">Featuring: Acey Aguilar, Abner Delina, Ian Lomongo, Marco Viana</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"">Kafatiran is a story of love and freedom. At the dawn of the Philippine revolution, another revolution is brewing. Deep within the ranks of the Katipunan is a special faction composed of young men who are smart, art-loving, and sometimes a bit too mild-mannered. Young Antonino Corpus wants to join this special faction and goes through some tests to know if he does belong into this group. Unfortunately, the night of Antonino’s recruitment is also the night that sparks the Philippine revolution and the recruitment house was surrounded by several guardia civil. Should they leave the place where they are free to be themselves so that they can attain true freedom? Should they finally come out?<o:p></o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment--> </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJj5Zx6RAt7cgYkIvTnw1Wmg0lzp0-hbqxQHdbyi1ILAC9yr9lTNHBlxT6G-sOfkGTyA6qmV7FAj9Wju1fjdGOBqVmSH5V-PHHMDt86ioRbCPPbyy6YXm-uNFsg1eI00lWYYDPOd09QvTY/s1600/Bawal+Tumawid%252C+Nakamamatay.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 223px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJj5Zx6RAt7cgYkIvTnw1Wmg0lzp0-hbqxQHdbyi1ILAC9yr9lTNHBlxT6G-sOfkGTyA6qmV7FAj9Wju1fjdGOBqVmSH5V-PHHMDt86ioRbCPPbyy6YXm-uNFsg1eI00lWYYDPOd09QvTY/s320/Bawal+Tumawid%252C+Nakamamatay.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620196377277167890" /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: 'Times New Roman'; -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; ">BAWAL TUMAWID, NAKAMAMATAY written and directed by Joey Paras</span></a> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"">Featuring: Leo Rialp, Kiki Baento, Mark Jones Simbit, Vera Capirak, Bham Sumooc, Eva Madera, Giovanni Cadag, Floid Zulueta, Biboy Ramirez<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; ">It is February 14, Valentine`s Day. Eva is trapped in a bus stop along EDSA. Desperately trying to get a cab to make it to her father`s burial in La Loma, she asks passersby how she could make it to her destination. She sees an easy access to make it to the other lane ---an opening in the middle of the highway that bears this sign: BAWAL TUMAWID, NAKAMAMATAY.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>In the meantime, Eva meets a stranger, an old carpenter named Mang Caloy. The old man gives her options on how to make it to La Loma but she remains indecisive.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman""><o:p> </o:p></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; ">The heavy traffic and the heavy rain engage them into a peculiar conversation. A coffee shop near the bus stop becomes their refuge and here they begin sharing sentimental and funny stories about their past. Eva talks about her father`s death and her simple dreams as a hopia vendor. Mang Caloy breaks the serene conversation by telling the story behind the signage. An unpredictable revelation of the old man`s past marks the climax of the play. As the busy avenue becomes expansive again, an unexpected accident happens, leaving Eva in deep shock.</span></p> <!--EndFragment--> <div><br /></div><div><div><br /></div></div></div>Rody Verahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07768701772290052425noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6876071442442559322.post-38159290441606738032010-09-22T01:49:00.000-07:002010-09-22T01:59:26.175-07:00Farewell, Gen-san!<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><i>Kiyokazu Yamamoto, one of the founding members of Black Tent Theater, Japan, dear dear friend, passed away last week, succumbing to lung cancer. Three days ago, PETA gave him a small tribute. This is my short contribution. I had a difficult time reading it to the small audience since I couldn’t fight back my tears. I’m still grieving. The sadness comes in small waves. Gen-san will be missed terribly.</i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">When I first met Gen-san in 1981, I never thought it would turn into a friendship that would last for 30 years. I remember many things about him. I was 21 years old then and he was the jolly, funny, middle-aged, sweet-toothed Papa Gen as we called him then. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I got to know him better later in 1996 when he decided to come over to Manila, one day. He surprised us. He suddenly appeared at the PETA house (then in Lantana, Cubao). He said he was on vacation. The other members of Black Tent Theater (BTT) were in Avignon playing Woyzeck then. And he said he just wanted to explore possibilities of a collaboration with PETA. That one visit opened a whole chapter of the continuing bond between PETA and BTT that grew into a deep friendship. That chapter culminated in a fabulous collaborative production of Romeo and Juliet—which for me, even today, was the best collaborative project I have ever been involved in. Not only because of the fantastic rehearsal process that we were discovering along the way, but because of the talent, the fun, the learning we all shared. Papa Gen’s lone visit to PETA house in Lantana was the key to this wonderful experience.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Much of the production process of Romeo and Juliet was documented in still pictures, video, etc. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">However, what couldn’t be documented was the time Gen and I spent writing the scenario in his hideaway, a small town by a lake, away from Tokyo, where he taught me how to fish, and, in between our scribbling of the scenario of the play, he would tell me how he loved fishing in Canada, and enumerated all the fish he had caught from trout to bass, distinguishing one catch from another. And that despite all the fish that he knew—he would still end up craving for <i>samma</i>. And while we finished eating the fish we caught that afternoon, we talked about the possible endings to our Romeo and Juliet, while dishing up edamame beans as he had his beer.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">What wasn't documented was, on the way home, Gen took me to a small restaurant and asked if I ever tasted black natto. And had me taste them and waiting for me to throw up and take back all I’ve said about how much I loved it. And how his eyes widened in silly admiration when I finished the serving. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">What wasn’t caught on video was when one time he asked me how it felt to be gay. That maybe he might want to try becoming one, now that he was old and thought that having sex didn’t make that much of a difference whether it was with a woman or a man. And I remember laughing and asking if probably it was too late for him to do that… and then slowly wondering if he was serious but never got to push that issue any further. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">What wasn’t caught on video was when he took us one night in Saito’s pad and we had a Kurosawa movie marathon while he annotated his own reviews of the early works of this great man. When he introduced me to the stories of Kenji Miyazawa, and told me why he preferred Kawabata to Mishima. And I remember one time asking him why many great Japanese writers had attempted suicide—I can’t remember what his explanation was anymore. And I remember him handing me a Margaret Atwood novel which he couldn’t bother to read since it was in English. Papa Gen, I read it. I would have wanted to tell you the story. But it doesn’t really matter. And anyway it wasn’t as great as your little stories about food, sweets, fish, literature, theater, film, Ed McBain, your wife Napa and your daughter Aya-chan, your wonder and fascination about new things you’ve learned about the Philippines, your commitment to your art, so many things you got interested in, so many things you wanted to talk about—and we did talk about it while you juggled with the handful of English you knew. And even if we didn’t understand each other many times, it didn’t matter as long as we understood each other here in our hearts. It was the company we had, knowing that no matter what we said we knew we weren’t going to hurt each other because we cared for each other, because that’s the way friends really are. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">What wasn’t caught on video was your generosity. And I remember how much you appreciated it when we reciprocated that generosity. How much you enjoyed eating Philippine chicken and eggs saying how much they tasted better than those in Japan. How much you loved eating in Emerald Restaurant and the other chinese restaurants I brought you to. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">The last time I saw Gen was when suddenly, again, he appeared at the PETA office, this time here in this building (Eymard Drive). Everyone was asking what brought you here, Gen. And like before, you said nothing really. That you were on vacation, again. No agenda. You had this new Canon digital SLR camera. And I remember you showing me all the pictures you took with it. And you handed me the copy of the play, Kitchen Medea—a monologue you wrote which Yoshi directed and Mailes acted for the Virgin Labfest. We kept asking what you wanted to do during this vacation—and you answered vaguely. That you just wanted to spend time with friends. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">It was only after you left that we learned why. It was really to say farewell, for you sensed that you might never see us again. It was better we saw you happy, you probably thought. It was better we remembered you as the same jolly and gentle Papa Gen whose great great mind you always tried disguising with an innocent silliness. So Gen, that’s how I will always remember you. This last lone trip you made to Manila to visit us, just to see us one last time, was your gallant way of goodbye. Even up to the end, Papa Gen, you were such a gracious, gracious man. With deep respect and lots of hugs and kisses. </span></p> <!--EndFragment-->Rody Verahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07768701772290052425noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6876071442442559322.post-7515757976642924222010-08-12T00:58:00.001-07:002010-08-12T01:34:31.616-07:00August, the ghost monthsabi ng mga chinese, masama ang buwan sa bandang agosto. lagi daw kasi dito pumapatak ang ghost month sa lunar calendar. nung nasa singapore ako, bandang agosto rin yun nang makita ko ang maraming pamilyang nagsusunog ng kung anu-anong papel sa loob ng mga drum. maglalakad ako sa isang neighborhood papunta sa tinutuluyan kong rented flat at madadaanan ko ang maraming sunog na papel, abuhing mga kartong imahe ng iba't ibang gamit pambahay. Parang yung nakikita sa mga punerarya ng chinese, sa arlington, halimbawa. <div><br /></div><div>hindi ko alam na ghost month pala yun. hindi ko rin naman alam kung ano ba talaga ang ghost month. para sigurong todos los santos para sa atin. ngayon ko na lang napagdugtong-dugtong iyan sa kahulugan ng buhay ko, dahil tuwing sasapit ang buwan ng agosto--ang daming nangyayaring kabuwisitan sa buhay ko. Bandang agosto, di ko na matandaan ang taon, nang hulihin ako ng pulis sa loob ng sinehan dahil may ginagawa kaming milagro ng katabi kong di ko naman kilala. wala pa akong disiotso anyos nun. mukha pang bagets, payatot pero mapangahas. binubuksan ko pa lang ang siper ng katabi ko, biglang may humawak sa batok ko, mahigpit. huli ka. hawak ang leeg ko, itinayo ako ng pulis. samantalang hindi niya hinayaang makatakas ang katabi ko na noon sana'y tatakbo na. hinablot niya ang tshirt nito at sabay kaming inilabas ng sinehan. ano daw ba ang ginagawa naming kalaswaan. ayun. sa madali't salita, pera ang hanap niya (meron bang pulis na nanghuhuli ng bading na hindi pera ang hanap?). nagbigay kami pareho. hindi ko alam kung bakit pagkaraan ng ilang sandali, ayaw pa rin akong pakawalan ng pulis na ito. bundat siya. (nung panahong iyon, wala yatang pulis na hindi. ngayon ba?) at ang kapansin-pansin sa kanyang mukha ay ang kaliwa niyang mata. kirat ito. hindi, parang artipisyal dahil hindi gumagalaw, hindi tumatanaw. lalong nakakatakot. samakatwid, ako na lang at ang pulis, hawak pa rin ako sa batok, ang naglalakad sa Oroquieta. tandang-tanda ko, agosto yun, hapon. habang naglalakad kami, may kumaway sa kanya mula sa isang karinderyang dinadaanan namin. sa palagay ko, isa rin siyang pulis. bundat din, e. sa loob loob ko, ano pa ba ang gusto sa akin ng pulis na ito? nakuha na niya ang nag-iisang singkwenta pesos sa bulsa ko. iniimagine ko, maglalakad na ako pauwi. pero hindi, patuloy kaming naglakad hanggang kumaliwa kami sa Recto. tumawid kami papuntang Carriedo. at doon, sa kanto ng recto, may isang maliit na restawran. Parang kilala na rin siya doon dahil kinawayan niya ang mga waiter. ipinasok niya ako sa kubeta. binuksan ang kanyang siper at sinabing, "o ayan, yan ang isubo mo." Muntik akong masuka. hindi ko na ikukuwento ang sumunod, dahil hindi naman siya guwapo at hindi naman ito porn lit. mahigit tatlumpung taon ang nagdaan bago ko na-realize na ang pesteng kabuwisitang nangyari sa buhay ko, kapag pumapatak ng agosto, ay dahil yata sa letseng ghost month . dinadasal ko na lang na ang putang-inang pulis na iyon ay tinamaan na rin ng kabuwisitan sa isang agostong nagdaan. </div><div><br /></div><div>marami pang kabuwisitang nangyari sa buhay ko. at tuwing naaalala ko sila, hindi ko alam kung iniimagine ko lang na sa bandang buwan sila ng agosto nangyari. pero yung mga pinakamasasakit, pinakabuwisit, pinakamalulupit na karanasang tulad ng naikuwento ko kanina, peks man, nangyari sa bandang agosto o pagsapit ng setyembre. at oo, sinusulat ko itong blog entry na ito sa isang lumang laptop na tumitigil tuwing sinusubukan kong maglaro ng farmville dahil NASIRA ANG DESKTOP HARD DISK KOOOOOO! pinull-out ng technician, kahapon: agosto 11. </div><div><br /></div><div>wala yatang lunas ito. alam ko may mga kuwintas at kristal na maaaring makatulong para maiwasan ito. may mga orasyon at mga bagong ayos ng gamit sa bahay na maaaring makabawas ng malas. hindi ko alam. kapag nangyari ang kabuwisitan -- hinahayaan ko lang magdaan ang mga araw. dahil pagkatapos ng agosto, setyembre na. dadaan din iya't oktubre na. dalawang buwan na lang, pasko na uli. at nararamdaman kong humuhupa pati ang aking agam-agam. makakalimutan ko sandali ang mga kamalasang iyan na magiging bahagi ng aking buhay. at least bago muling pumatak sa agosto sa susunod na taon.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Rody Verahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07768701772290052425noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6876071442442559322.post-72087866122434806852010-07-28T00:04:00.000-07:002010-07-28T00:10:16.741-07:00hopeless romantic (2)<p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 14.0px 0.0px; font: 18.0px Times"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">In defense of romantics</span></b></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 12.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">but is it a malady at all? could it be a genetic propensity or an intrinsic characteristic of the bold who are never satisfied with the ordinary, the predictable, the average. foolish romantics are deemed foolish by their envious neighbors when they meet their doom and yet one would think whether they hadn’t expected that impending tragic outcome. Hadn’t these foolish romantics dared to see that ultimate outcome straight in the eye? Even death could blink at their determination. When all have retreated in fear, or, at the last minute, recanted their claim of passion– the foolish romantics ready to have their heads bashed in, unfazed by humiliation and ridicule, assuming a quixotic air, relentless and resolute, view this “foolishness” as a heroic plunge into the depths thus fulfilling the most noble task of dying for a cause. whatever cause. Love? Revolution? – anyything that pushes one to the brink, oblivious of death.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 12.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">romantics have the highest heroic sense. it is they who dare ask why things are so and it is they who push the limits set by the status quo. it is they who conjure the vision of a world outside the box. who could not be satisfied with what is given, unable to bear the monotony of cycles or the security of the herd. Thus romantics are, by nature alone and shall forever be lonely despite people who love them.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 12.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times"><span style="font: 12.0px Lucida Grande"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">And in literature they abound. Great writers have paid tribute to them. Ophelia might be the most tragic of Shakepeare’s hopeless devoted romantics. confused and bewildered she goes mad and flings herself into the lake. Young Werther has roused the emotions of much of Europe when Goethe published his story. Young men have emulated Werther’s despair, and in his death, many perceived as victory over unrequited desire. And what about Thomas Mann’s Aschenbach wasting away in Venice over his obsession with beauty in the form of a young man?</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 12.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">the French have mastered re-telling the stories of these foolish romantics. From Victor Hugo’s hunchback to the more recent filimng of Jean de Florette/Manon of the Springs. There’s a bittersweet scene where a peasant has gone insanely in love with Manon, that he sewed her ribbon onto his chest, near his heart– and it stuck to his chest till he died.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 12.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">surely it can’t be a sickness? It is embedded in our hearts. whether we choose to indulge in this passion or not may be triggered is entirely up to us. The object may not necessarily be someone. it could be an ideology, a scientific discovery, art, an inexpressible religious experience. and yes, when the romantic is assailed by all these, time will stand still.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 12.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">But i am, of course, exaggerating so as to ingratiate myself among these larger than life luminaries. for I am not one of them entirely. I do allow myself to indulge in this passion and yet up to a certain degree. i fall short of the heroic and so all I could do is admire and adore those who are really hopeless and severe. and yet i do feel the same pain, the same intensity. But my will is much weaker than these who have dared to walk past the forbidden line.</span></p>Rody Verahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07768701772290052425noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6876071442442559322.post-48476345207330847122010-07-24T20:14:00.001-07:002010-07-24T20:18:59.869-07:00hopeless romantic (1)i am reposting these random thoughts from my old blog. with a few tweaks here and there, it still pretty much resonates.<div><br /></div><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 14.0px 0.0px; font: 18.0px Times"><b>hopeless romantic (1)</b></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 12.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">hopeless romantic. it’s a label tagged over and over again for people who are so much into falling in love– no matter who the object of desire is. pathetic little creatures we are. we dwell in our fantasies. we spin splendid scenarios of intimacies clutching our pillows when we’re in bed, talking to ourselves while we take long walks, collecting daydreams, relishing that tingle of pain that scratches our hearts when we recall a sweet memory. it’s a sickness that I catch less and less now. But when I do catch it (yes, it’s like flu), the intensity is much the same.</span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 12.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"></span><span style="font: 12.0px Lucida Grande"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Times;"><br /></span></span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I’ve known some people who can easily brush this malady aside. Is there a vitamin that somehow strengthens one’s resistance to it? In fact I think we, hopeless romantics are very few in proportion. We are the stuff films and plays and a host of mediocre tv crap are made of. We are the lifeblood of this otherwise drab existence. and yet others who have managed to keep this passion at bay would, I imagine, laugh at us for being idiots.</span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 12.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"></span><span style="font: 12.0px Lucida Grande"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Times;"><br /></span></span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">i have always believed that amorous love– this feeling, this passion is at its most magnificent when it is without dignity. which paradoxically, by virtue of that lack, in fact, gives it a higher form of dignity instead. My example would be victor hugo’s hapless lonely daughter gone insane over a soldier who didn’t love her. adele, immortalized in truffaut’s the story of adele h. plunged into doing undignifying things for the object of a love that she knows will never be hers. and at the film's end, i would be awestruck by how she had destroyed herself almost willfully for love. and this very fantasy fascinates me. and continues to fascinate me. how much can I really do for love (that song in chorus line comes to mind– i told you– it could get divinely profound or awfully cheesy– it doesn’t matter, this is my blog!) ?</span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 12.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"></span><span style="font: 12.0px Lucida Grande"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Times;"><br /></span></span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">how many times have i been in that similar situation, licking the wounds I inflicted upon myself. painfully deciding to set free the object/s of my desire. </span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 12.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"></span><span style="font: 12.0px Lucida Grande"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Times;"><br /></span></span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">my friends roll their eyes. I don’t have their sympathies. they know I love the feeling of being smitten and getting hurt and going through the rigmarole of unrequited affections. it’s an idiotic state I will avidly get into whenever i get the chance. the risks can get very high indeed. i am beginning to believe it’s giving me the lower back pain. and yet I willingly dive into the murky pool, unmindful of consequences to me, especially.</span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 12.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"></span><span style="font: 12.0px Lucida Grande"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Times;"><br /></span></span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I watched another french movie about four years ago. I forgot the title. (can anyone supply?) I remember the very first scene: a female cat was in terrific heat and she was quivering in awful passionate cringing desire. it was the story of a married woman who falls madly in love with a rather dispassionate NGO volunteer. when the guy leaves her she suffers a breakdown. Unable to function, she goes into a terrible depression (not unlike the cat in the film's opening credits). she chances upon reading about this obscure Greek myth. there was this cliff where the god Apollo throws hopelessly languid mortals into the sea to cure them of their lovesickness. On one occasion, she goes to Greece with a friend and finds this cliff. she plunges into the water. Her friend thinking that she has committed suicide shouts for help. After a long while, we see her resurface, and immediately we know she has just been cured.</span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 12.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"></span><span style="font: 12.0px Lucida Grande"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Times;"><br /></span></span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">that’s almost what it will take for me to relieve me of this awfully painful yet sweet malady, whenever it comes and comes unrequited. now i realize why i take to swimming much too much. back to the pool.</span></p><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></div>Rody Verahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07768701772290052425noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6876071442442559322.post-3058365876519755212010-07-21T18:52:00.000-07:002010-07-21T19:02:56.202-07:00tagheuer<span style="font-size:130%;">Matagal na itong tagheuer sa tocador ko. binigay ni khaek sa akin. sabi niya, akin na lang daw. ako naman siyempre tumaba ang puso. wow. tagheuer. "is this orig?" tumango siya. 30k daw ang binayad niya dito. sale. "why are you giving it to me?" sabi niya, nakabili na daw kasi siya ng bagong relo. mas maganda. o di ba? Samantalang ako ito, nagtitiyaga sa isang seiko automatic na tuwing dalawang linggo ay kailangan kong i-adjust dahil bumibilis nang bumibilis ang takbo-- nagiging 30 minutes advanced.<br /><br />kaso masyadong maluwag ang wrist strap nitong tagheuer at hindi na siya umaandar. kailangan na yatang palitan ang baterya. four or five months ago, dinala ko sa tagheuer store sa makati. sabi nila hindi raw sila repair shop. the only repair shop for tagheuer and other luxury watches is in ali mall daw, sa cubao. ang layo. pinatingnan ko sa ibang repair shop. tuwing nakikita nilang tagheuer ang relo, sinasabi nila, "hindi kami gumagawa niyan, ser. kailangan sa tagheuer niyo ipagawa."<br /><br />tumagal nang tumagal, di ko na napaayos. until itong pasko. kasama ko si jun nagpasya kaming lakbayin ang alimall. at nakita namin ang repair shop. sosyal. ang tangi nilang inaayos at kinukumpuni ay mga sosyal din na relo: oris, tagheuer, movado, rolex, rado, etc. So pumasok ako, all of sudden feeling one of the few elite na merong tagheuer. nilabas ko ang relo at sinabi ko sa babae sa counter, " Gusto kong ipaayos ito. I think kailangang palitan ng baterya at saka paiiklian ko na rin ang metal strap" Tumayo ang babae, "Wait a minute po, sir." At pumasok siya sa loob ng isang pinto na piring nakasara.<br /><br />Naghintay kami ni Jun. Luminga-linga kami at nakita namin ang mga binebentang tagheuer, longines, etc. wow, sabi ko sa isip ko, pag naayos na itong tagheuer ko-- pareho na kami ni tiger woods... not about that part na marami siyang kabit, and then again... pareho na nga kami talaga ni tiger woods!<br /><br />biglang naputol ang aking munting daydreaming nang lumabas ang babae, with a smile. Lumapit ako at sabi niya, "Sir, saan niyo ho binili itong relo?" Halos pabulong. Sabi ko, bigay lang sa akin ng kaibigan. Tila hindi na makakaatras pa ang babae at kailangan na niang sabihin ang tutoo. tumingin siya sa mga mata ko at sinabing, "it's not authentic." Siyempre nagulat ako. Nagulat na napahiya. "We don't repair watches that are not authentic" 'Not authentic' sounded a lot less painful than 'fake.'<br /><br />Ngumiti ako. Nagkamot ng ulo. "Gago talaga yung kaibigan ko. kaya pala binigay sa akin. Na-ninyos inosentes ako." I got the watch at lumabas kami ni jun. Tawa kami nang tawa. Pero sa loob loob ko, nakita kong papalayo nang papalayo sa tabi ko si tiger woods. Parang bigla siyang may naamoy na hindi maganda at di na lumingon, tuluyang nawala.<br /><br />bumaba kami sa first floor. merong watch repair shop sa gilid. sabi ko, kailangan kong palagyan ng bagong baterya at paikliin ang metal strap. tiningnan ng repairman. hinihintay kong sabihin niyang "hindi kami gumagawa niyan, ser..." pero para bang biglang nawala ang magic spell ng relo. Kailangan lang pala may magsabing hindi authentic ang relo ko at biglang-bigla, lahat ng repairman, alam na agad na peke nga ang relong ito. Sa loob loob ko, ang galing! Parang nagkaisa silang lahat na lokohin ako.<br /><br />Pag-uwi, kinausap ko si khaek. "sabi mo genuine ito." Ngumiti siya sa akin, tapos tumawa. Halos isang taon din niyang hinintay ang punchline ng kanyang practical joke. Deadma.<br /><br />kinuwento ko ito sa isang mayamang kaibigan. akala ko matatawa siya sa kuwento ko. ngumiti lang siya. "nothing special. ganyan ang ginagawa ng kapatid ko pag pumupunta sa china. bumibili ng maraming relo: tagheuer, oris, movado, rolex, rado-- murang halaga. sino ba'ng makakaalam na fake? Sasabihin mo ba? ipagyayabang mo bang fake? ano ba'ng alam ng mga ordinaryong tao na fake nga iyan?" akala ko kasi, pag kinuwento ko sa kanya, matatawa siya sa kacheapan ko. Dagdag pa niya, "e kung tutoo nga iyan, at sinuot mo, naglakad ka sa kalye. ipagmamalaki mo bang genuine iyan? Siguro sa new york o sa paris. Pero dito? sa cubao? sa recto? o kahit sa makati cinema square? Ako hindi. itatago ko iyun. E pag hindi siya authentic... maipagyayabang mo, at wala kang takot maglakad sa kalye. bukod pa diyan, bukas sira na siguro iyan. Manghihinayang ka ba? Ha?"<br /><br />Napatingin ako sa kanya. Seryoso ang tanong niya. So sumagot ako, "Hindi... bigay lang naman kasi, e."<br /><br />Tawanan kami. Pero sa loob loob ko.. sana hindi masira agad. sana hindi bukas.<br /><br /><br /></span>Rody Verahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07768701772290052425noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6876071442442559322.post-81197835600087762712010-07-19T08:00:00.000-07:002010-07-19T08:13:26.692-07:00The Reluctant Critic<p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span style="font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Gilbert Cadiz, aka Gibbs is a writer of theater reviews, news about theater events, among other things, of course. A lot of theater artists call him a theater critic, but he modestly balks at the label saying that he sees himself more as "</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">a journalist covering theater, that's it." ok then, Probably the best journalist for theater I've ever met. during my younger years, we'd read reviews and press write-ups written by the Orosa sisters (Leonor and Rosalinda), Barbara Dacanay, Wilhelmina Orozco, Nestor Torre, Jr., Amadis Guerrero (who still writes, though covering more than just theater.). and then there's the next generation of reviewers, the one I can recall in that league is Cora Llamas. </span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Gibbs laid out his own perspective as "someone who covers theater." when I read this piece of self-explanation, it got me thinking and, well a bit confused. So I asked if I could post it on my blog, along with a counter-"monologue" that i'd set out to write. Maybe Gibbs and the rest will ask what a counter monologue is. Honestly, I have no idea. But let's see where this goes....</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">just one note: GIBBS' lines were taken verbatim from Gibbs himself. I may have added a few "stage directions" for effect. gibbs' lines, however, i must take full responsibility for. </span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">So pasintabi kay Gibbs, the reluctant critic:</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">LIGHTS FADE IN. GIBBS CADIZ, approaching 40, is seated on a stool, he smiles at the audience-- all of whom are theater artists. We sense a bit of anxiety from that smile, but then a hint of mischief and then two blinks. He takes a deep breath, holds it a bit and then...</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">GIBBS:</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Akin lang 'to, my own perspective, and i don't intend to speak for the rest... (a beat)... frankly, and with no disrespect meant to anyone in the theater world--i don't consider myself part of the theater community. </span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">(He looks around and notices that the audience stops short. He raises his hand. House lights are turned on. He sees actor friends, director friends, fellow critics, national artists for theater, and in one corner, near the exit door, sits gibbs cadiz, approaching 40, listening to GIBBS onstage, a bit circumspect, pen in hand, with a notebook on his lap, but waiting for what he's going to say next.)</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">GIBBS:</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">(a little cautious at first but eventually getting more confident) I... see myself as a journalist covering theater, that's it. i am from the outside looking in. and whenever i write a review of a play, it is, in effect, my report of what i had experienced while watching the play. i try to describe what i saw and what i felt, and why i think i felt that way from what i had seen...that means that i am, in fact, a member of the audience. i suppose with one difference:</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">(At this point, we hear a voice from that same seat near the exit door. gibbs, seated on that chair at the rear is syaing something almost simultaneously, but inaudible. GIBBS continues.)</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">GIBBS:</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I am a bit more informed about theater--not because i am smarter, but because i have chosen to spend more time, effort, money, etc. watching plays and covering the industry. the sheer number of plays i watch, the private research i do, the effort i put in to try to understand and see in perspective everything that i'm able to watch--even if i'm half-alert lang, that should make me a bit more informed than the average theater-goer who goes for a more select repertoire of plays. i try to watch all--simply because i like to and i enjoy it. </span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">(Audience of theater artists turn around. gibbs stands up and approaches Gibbs, who remains seated on the stool. gibbs walks on stage.)</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">gibbs:</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">so this is how it feels! i could never imagine myself--</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">GIBBS:</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">This is not part of my job at the paper. My job is simply to edit. that's my main job. i wasn't assigned to cover theater. i took it on my own because watching plays isn't at all work for me--i enjoy it without reservation. it's a privilege.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">gibbs:</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">sino?</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">GIBBS:</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Ha?</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">gibbs:</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">sino sa ating dalawa?</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">GIBBS:</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Ang alin?</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">gibbs:</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">sino ang journalist at sino ang nag-eenjoy?</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">GIBBS:</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">It doesn't have to be a contradiction. I mean at any rate, I don't see myself as a theater practitioner and more an outsider covering the field, i limit my coverage to what's ultimately presented in front of me. to be specific: i am not, and don't see myself as, part of the the process that playwrights, directors and actors go through backstage. </span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">gibbs:</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">that's true. </span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">(GIBBS and gibbs looks backstage. they see the stage manager, looking confused, turning her script back and forth, not knowing exactly where they are right now.)</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">GIBBS:</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">in fact, on a couple of occasions, i've been invited by two directors to attend their final rehearsals and asked to "critique" the work/offer improvements. i refused at both times, because i felt it wasn't my place to get involved in the process.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">gibbs:</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">why not? di ba mga kaibigan mo sila?</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">GIBBS:</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">that's just it... look, as as an audience member, generally when i watch a play i have not had the chance to read the text (unless it's previously published/staged and the text is available commercially), or learn the process it's gone through before it eventually reached the stage. i can only judge what's ultimately, finally presented on stage before me. of course, if i am discerning enough, i should be able to understand what the material is talking about, to appreciate the quality of the text, to see how stagecraft is able to bring it alive before my eyes, etc.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">gibbs:</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">and so?</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">GIBBS:</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">but again, everything based on a product being presented to me already functionally whole, and whose evolution i wasn't privy to. that means that the way you as a playwright/director look at your work, and the way i look at it, would certainly vary. ideally, i suppose, a one-on-one correspondence between what the playwright and director are trying to say and what an informed audience member actually gets would be most welcome. </span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">gibbs:</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">a product.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">GIBBS:</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">yes.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">(There is a silence. Gibbs looks at his audience. All of them in their evening best, as though it was awards night. they look at their tickets. We hear the audience getting a bit shifty, a little confused. "akala ko awards night ito?"-- "ano ito, front act?" "marunong ba siyang kumanta?" "di ba seminarista siya dati? baka..." But this too dies down.)</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">GIBBS:</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">when an artist releases his work to the public, it's no longer his.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">(At this point a sharp spotlight is focused on a playwright, killing himself. some directors stand up and shout "Bravo.")</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">GIBBS and gibbs, together:</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">the people who will look at it will invest their own viewpoints, perspectives, biases, temperament, etc. into it, and take away from it whatever suits their state of being at that moment. that's art.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">gibbs:</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> At what point does it become art? doesn't it become art at the point when someone perceives it? the world became art, when humans evolved to appreciate Creation. the world waited thousands of years: rehearsing, editing, covering previous drafts, rewriting, creating multiple palimpsests before man's awareness was born and opened his eyes, perceived the world, breathless for a moment, then uttered, "beautiful." and so art is created not merely by its creators but completed by its witnesses. so tell me, Gibbs, which came first, man the critic or man the artist?</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">GIBBS:</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">But i think it might be wishing for the moon for an artist to wish that the public will get him or her every time, fully and down to the last nuance.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">gibbs:</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">exactly. but aren't we all?</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">GIBBS:</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">aren't we all what?</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">gibbs:</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">wishing for that moon... or, to put it another way, bound to be misinterpreted. critics, journalists, artists, writers are almost always bound to be misinterpreted. But then, there is, always, the factor of Consensus. When audiences watch a play or film, when viewers look at a painting, when readers read a book- they may have different interpretations but they do arrive at a certain consensus, no matter how contentious.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">GIBBS:</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">A contentious consensus...</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">gibbs:</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">In the end, the work gets its "verdict" of being a critical success, a box office hit, a fluke, a classic, or a forgettable pretentious flop. And this "verdict" is ultimately handed out by the summation of a consensus of artists, critics, and the public audience. and the work latches on to that "verdict", doesn't it? the critic's opinion is just that: an opinion. a ballot, an articulate vote that will eventually mix in with the general regard for the work. Sometimes we influence our readers, we convince them that our point of view is the definitive one, or maybe that's what we'd like to think. But sometimes, we ourselves boldly proclaim something that the public disagrees with. We pan a work, and the work becomes a huge success...</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">GIBBS:</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">thanks to us?</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">(they both laugh. a silence.)</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">GIBBS: (continues)</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">i write for a general-circulation paper. my audience consists of people like me--people who read, who try to be updated, who are reasonably intelligent and open-minded--but who are not part of the backstage, offstage life of theater. we don't know the process, we only get to see the final product.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">gibbs:</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">but YOU chose to demarcate that line. </span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">GIBBS:</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">which line?</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">gibbs:</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">the line between off and on stage.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">GIBBS:</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Shouldn't we?</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">gibbs:</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">But you said you are a journalist for theater! shouldn't you probe into what's happening behind the curtains, as well? why should you confine yourself to what you see on-stage? why should you deprive yourself of knowing the "process". A journalist surely must know the ins and outs of something, yes? And maybe, so should the critic. </span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">GIBBS:</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">what i can write are my opinions about what i see--sabi nga ni ebert, what is a review but an opinion? and he's won a pulitzer for his. yun lang. </span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">gibbs:</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">hmm. the same Ebert who panned Brilliantes Mendoza as he went on to win Best director... haha... but seriously, why would you deliberately draw your curtain from seeing what's happening off-stage because of that? Shouldn't a critic/journalist be just as interested in how this "product" is made? for how can a critic sufficiently understand artistic intentions and weigh them to ascertain whether these intentions succeeded or not, if he is not aware of how the piece was being set up in the first place? Shouldn't an art critic know about paints, colors, brushes and how the artist created the images on the canvas? Shouldn't a music critic know about harmonics, technique, dynamics, even notation and how the musician uses them to compose his work? Should a theater critic be confined to just THE work? Or is this your approach-- the approach that probably distinguishes a critic from... a reviewer. </span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">GIBBS:</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Well, now that you've mentioned it... the word 'critic' has always carried a lot of baggage such that, in the beginning, i never used it on myself. ibang mga tao ang unang gumamit niyan to describe what i was doing. i was content to say i was writing about plays. the long antagonistic relationship between critics and artists was something na i thought needn't necessarily be where i would end at, for two reasons. </span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">one, i come from a position of friendship and support. i like the theater, i wish it to succeed, i have enormous respect for the people in it. that's precisely why i devote a big amount of my time covering it (inquirer does not pay at all for my pamasahe going to plays, or tickets whenever i need to buy, or pay me for the reviews i publish--kasama na yun sa basic sweldo ko) and getting more people to be interested in it via my blog.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">two: i want to be as fair and objective as possible. that's the main reason why i don't want to get involved in the backstage/offstage process and become, in effect, an insider, a practitioner just like you. i'd like to believe i can honor your and your peers' work by keeping myself at a certain distance. quite a number have taken this the wrong way, but i also consciously don't hang out with theater folk, even if, in an ideal world, i'm thinking the closest friends i have would be artists from there too---given the shared likes and interests. if i weren't covering theater, i'd probably be an all-out groupie sa teatro. totoo yan! </span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">but because i'm covering you guys, i just feel it's the proper thing to do, na wag ako maging intimately involved. training namin yan sa dyaryo--you are not part of the beat you cover. friendly, but not familiar--because the detachment and distance will (hopefully) help me see things in a clearer, fairer manner.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">gibbs:</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">no one can be objective in the world of art, we both know that. Fair, yes, but objective? the critic has his own opinions, and therefore must take a stand. Journalists, however are a different lot-- which makes our position quite untenable now. Critics do not usually mingle with artists because everyone knows how hard it is to criticize your friends. you know that, don't you? Remember how many times we got the cold shoulder from those who were hoping we'd give them a "thumbs up". But that's what we in the Inquirer call par for the course. Critics get that all the time. But when journalists get it, they usually show up dead.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">GIBBS:</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">(looks at the audience of artists)</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">it all comes down to this. your process is your own.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">gibbs:</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">the process continues with the audience and back to the artists, should they wish to keep on polishing the project. many times, the critics offer a viewpoint that enriches the work-- unlike film that has a more definite finish. In the theater, ideally we'd have previews so the players can improve upon the work. Imagine new works being developed through years of constant exchange with artists and critics/audiences until they truly open to the general public as a "final product." Shouldn't we work towards that process as well? they've been doing that all across the U.S. before they open on Broadway, for instance.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">GIBBS:</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">But i'm happy enough to be at the receiving end of their creative efforts! believe me, i may pan a work, i may find something objectionable with it, but in the grand scheme of things, i'm always grateful enough na me naipapalabas, me nagagawa at me napapanood. </span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">i can't guarantee i will see the playwright/director's intention with 100-percent accuracy, all the time. all i can promise is, with everything at my disposal sa puntong yun, bubuksan ko ang isip ko sa kung anuman ang gustong pumasok. i know i will never satisfy everyone; me magagalit at magagalit sa opinyon ko, but wala ako magagawa sa ganun--in the same way that artists would have to resign themselves to the fact that their works will be received in as many different ways as there are viewers. ganun siguro talaga. we have more in common than we think.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">gibbs:</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">and yet, as critic or journalist: knowing the process, what happens backstage, interviewing the director/playwright about their intentions and juxtaposing this with what you've seen onstage, witnessing the rehearsal, contextualizing this project in the whole scheme of theater history, if you must, and writing about it with all this in mind: shouldn't this be our contribution to the "ecology of theater"? </span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">(GIBBS and gibbs look at each other.)</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">gibbs:</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">(avoids GIBBS' eye and looks away)</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">but then again, it may be a responsibility too much to ask from us, i guess.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">GIBBS:</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">(looks down on the floor.)</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">there's just so few of us. we cannot take on so much.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">(Silence.)</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">gibbs:</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">(goes up to GIBBS, a pat on his shoulder)</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">We who watch are part of the process, Gibbs. But yes, by all means, be fair.</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">(gibbs walks off. GIBBS goes back to his stool, sits and looks at the audience. a long silence.)</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">(LIGHTS FADE. )</span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 17.0px Times; min-height: 20.0px"><br /></p>Rody Verahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07768701772290052425noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6876071442442559322.post-79043710679274905762010-07-10T23:19:00.000-07:002010-07-10T23:21:17.625-07:00Think before you speak<p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 11.0px Lucida Grande"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">In what language do you think? english? pinoy? or the vernacular? steven pinker, author of "the language instinct" says no to any of these choices. i've been reading this fascinating book on language and how it works for us. i've always thought the reason it's hard to translate pinoy to english is because i "think in pinoy". but pinker says it's really just my imagination. I confuse thinking with words. and well, as i come to THINK about it, he may be right. Common sense, yah? everyone has the capacity for it. from the people of tacurong to the cosmopolitan citizens of paris. we all have thoughts and steven pinker dares to claim that the "language" we think in is more like "universal" language he calls "mentalese." </span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 11.0px Lucida Grande; min-height: 13.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 11.0px Lucida Grande"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">so thought and language are two distinct, separate faculties. the next thing he proposes is that our capacity for language is an instinct. not much different from a hen's urge to incubate her eggs. and this instinct begins to be at its most active during the first three years of our lives onward to about six or seven? we normally enter into what he calls a "grammar explosion"-- where we, almost automatically learn the grammatical structures of our mother tongue. we get a sense of what's understandable and what's incomprehensible, what for Hamlet would be just a torrent of "words, words, words" and what would have the "correct" arrangement of these otherwise meaningless words. this window of opportunity for language closes as we grow older. and that, he says, explains why adults have a more difficult time learning a new language.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 11.0px Lucida Grande; min-height: 13.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 11.0px Lucida Grande"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">so kung ganun pala, is growing up learning two languages at the same time really not a problem, after all? and so maybe that explains why i tend to use one language in a situation and use the other language in another context. for example, when I'm feeling contentious, i tend to use english more than pinoy. I feel that english can more accurately express the subtle differences of my arguments or tends to be more precise in pointing out one detail in my rebuttal. But if, during that same debate, things get heated up and, if my statements become more personal, then pinoy words tend to insert themselves into the fray. or say, i'm waxing romantic, i tend to use pinoy "archaisms" or kapag i'm in a creative mood and start writing a poem, my pinoy vocabulary comes to the fore like a shower of words i thought i could never use. but when i read a piece, not just my own, when i begin to to read "critically," english comes in handy. the switch is almost automatic for me. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 11.0px Lucida Grande; min-height: 13.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 11.0px Lucida Grande"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Pero siyempre may mga overlaps iyan. sometimes I have had to write formal pieces in Pinoy. i catch myself reaching for an English-Pilipino dictionary to aim at expressing myself more precisely. and when I see all the possible words in the entry, i select the best pinoy word according to... to what... according to context and most importantly, according to feel. for instance when i want to use the word "provocative"-- do i mean nanunulsol? or nangyayamot? or nanghahamon? or nanggagalit? in this way, i achieve precision in my pinoy by going through english as my prism. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 11.0px Lucida Grande; min-height: 13.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 11.0px Lucida Grande"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">E, baka nga tama si steven pinker. I think in "mentalese" and dahil I'm isang Filipino na may history ng pananakop ng Americans, I can use either wika as it suits me. Pero nga naman, mahirap kung pagsasabayin. pero bakit naman hindi? the jamaicans speak english in a particular way, and rastafari has reflected this language as a fitting medium for their ideology, di ba? or why can't we, to use steven pinker's term, "creolize" our english-pinoy? baka naman doon papunta ang jejemon, di kaya? so what looks like a bad development for language, may actually be something good in the long run. baka ang kailangan lang ng jejemon ay... isang political philosophy deep enough to enthuse the next crop of intellectuals/hippies/activists of this bayan kong sawi. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 11.0px Lucida Grande; min-height: 13.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 11.0px Lucida Grande"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Ambot, wa ko know. Bahala na si batman.</span></p>Rody Verahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07768701772290052425noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6876071442442559322.post-56016720519733052332010-07-09T08:55:00.000-07:002010-07-10T23:22:08.308-07:00Hindi ako nagtapos<p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 11.0px Lucida Grande"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">hindi ako nagtapos kaya hindi ako pwedeng magturo sa kolehiyo o kahit saang eskuwelahan. kaya iniengganyo ako ng mga kaibigan kong propesor na tapusin na ang aking AB Philippine Studies. Isang beses, muntik na akong makumbinsi ng isang kaibigan na ngayon ay isa nang PhD at may posisyon na sa pamantasang pinanggalingan ko. Kaya isang araw, wala naman akong masyadong ginagawa nuon, sinubukan kong sundan ang kanyang payo. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 11.0px Lucida Grande; min-height: 13.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 11.0px Lucida Grande"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Nagpunta ako sa registrar's office para alamin kung ano nga ba ang status ng aking paggiging estudyante, mga mahigit labinglimang taon na ang nakakaraan. Nagulat ako kasi andun pa rin ang rekord ko. ipinakita ito sa akin ng isang clerk. nagbalik sa isang iglap ang maraming alaala ko sa kolehiyo. nuon ang yabang yabang ko. feeling ko hindi ko kailangan itong degree. pinagtatawanan ko ang mga kapwa ko estudyanteng nagkakandarapang makakuha ng degree, habang ako, ang tapang tapang kong pinaniniwalaang hindi mahalaga ang magtapos. ang mahalaga'y mapalaya ang isip, mapalaya ang damdamin, mapalaya ang bayan. kaalinsabay ng tapang ng loob, ng yabang na naramdaman ko, naramdaman kong suportado ito ng kilusang sinalihan ko. Noon, hindi mahalaga sa akin ang magkaroon ng diploma. romantiko akong tao. hindi lang sa larangan ng pakikipagrelasyon kundi sa usapin ng pagtingin sa buhay, daigdig. Sa madaling salita, romantiko din ang pagtingin ko sa aklasang bayang sinusulong namin sa kilusan. Inimadyin kong makakapagtapos ako, nang may tunay na ngiti sa aking mga labi, nang may buong pagmamayabang sa madla, kung ibang sistemang pang-edukasyon na ang inilatag sa bayan. Makapagtatapos ako, nang may kapayapaan sa puso kung nagtagumpay na ang rebolusyon. Weh. Nagdaan ang people power, at mrami pang signos pulitikal-- hindi naman nangyari yun. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 11.0px Lucida Grande; min-height: 13.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 11.0px Lucida Grande"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Fast forward sa araw ng readmission: nang ipakita sa akin ang transcript ko, May 24 units akong penalty na idinagdag sa akin, para makapagtapos. Sabi sa akin ng kaibigan kong propesor, "ok lang iyan. mag-enrol ka sa mga kakilala nating mga titser. alam na nila ang ginagawa mo. Marami ka nang sinulat, marami ka na ring achievments-- e kumbaga, baka sila na ang mahiyang maging titser mo." May pag-aatubili ako, kasi parang, ano nga ba? Mag-eenrol ako para tapusin ang kaletsehang ito, mga isang taong mahigit na pormalidad ang titiisin ko, para makamit ko ang aking diploma. Nang sa gayon, pwede na akong kunin ng departamento para makapagturo ng pagsulat ng dula. Dahil kulang na kulang ang nagtuturo ng pagsulat ng dula. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 11.0px Lucida Grande; min-height: 13.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 11.0px Lucida Grande"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Nung araw na iyun, sabi ko, wala naman akong ginagawa, at saka nandito na rin lang ako, ay di sige. So ang una kong dapat gawin ay magpapirma ng mga clearance. sa Admin, sa university registrar, at sa kung saan saan pa. Buong pagpapasensiya akong pumila nang pumila. at doon natandaan ko rin ang mga araw ko sa kolehiyo-- ang daming pila. pila sa pag-eenrol ng mga klase, pila sa loob ng ROTC para lang makakuha ng class card. Napapangiti ako habang naaalala ko ang kapangahasan namin noon. Noon, nag-eenrol ako para makasama ko ang mga kapwa ko estudyanteng sabay-sabay na lalabas sa classroom para magprotesta. Nag-eenrol ako nuon para tumayo at tuligsain ang reaksyunaryong pananaw ng ilang titser ko sa mga kursong hindi ko naman gustong kunin. Nag-eenrol ako para makinig sa mga student lider, at mga mahuhusay na propesor na humihimok ng radikal na pagbabago hindi lamang sa pamantasan kundi sa buong bayan. Pero ngayon, eto ako, nakapila sa isang binakurang daanan, kung saan maraming estudyanteng naghihintay na makapasok sa isang kolehiyo, para ano? Para magkadiploma. Ngayon, nakapila ako, walang yabang, pinagpapwisan, pero kiming naghihintay ng readmission slip. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 11.0px Lucida Grande; min-height: 13.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 11.0px Lucida Grande"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Pagdating ng mga alas-tres ng hapon, nakuha ko ang readmission slip ko. Ngayon, pwede na akong mag-enrol. binasa ko ang readmission slip ko. Pero wala naman akong masyadong maintindihan. Ang naaalala ko lang nung mga sandaling yun ay yung sabi ng kaibigan kong propesor, " pag nakatapos ka na, pwede ka nang magturo dito." </span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 11.0px Lucida Grande; min-height: 13.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 11.0px Lucida Grande"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Dala-dala ang readmission slip, pumila na ako sa unang kursong eenrolan ko. napatingin ako sa malayo. Matagal tagal din akong napatitig. minsan, napapasulyap ako sa hawak kong readmission slip. sumagi sa isip ko ang lahat ng mga nagawa ko sa labas ng pamantasang ito. kung paano ako natutong magsulat ng dula, nang walang tulong ng pamantasang ito. Kung paano ako natutong bumasa at sumuri ng mga obrang pampanitikan at pandulaan, nang walang tulong ng pamantasang ito. Kung paano ako nakipagbalitaktakan sa ilang mga propesor at mga mandudula ng iba't ibang bansa, nang walang tulong ng pamantasang ito. Kung paano ako nagturo ng pagsulat ng dula sa mga estudyante ng Masters in Education mula sa iba't ibang panig ng Pilipinas, nang walang tulong ng pamantasang ito. Napakurap ako sandali. Lumingon ako sa kalsada. At dahan-dahan akong tumalikod at umalis sa pila. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 11.0px Lucida Grande; min-height: 13.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 11.0px Lucida Grande"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Hindi yabang ang naramdaman ko. Kundi, kawalan ng interes. bukod sa maghangad akong magkadiploma, ano pa nga ba ang silbi nitong pag-eenrol ko? Mula sa pag-aatubili, dahan-dahang naging sigurado ang mga hakbang ko papalayo sa pamantasan. sumakay ako ng dyip, palabas ng campus. Isinuksok ko ang readmission slip sa maliit na bulsa ng bag ko. At yon na ang huling beses kong nakita ito. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 11.0px Lucida Grande; min-height: 13.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 11.0px Lucida Grande"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Lagi ko pa ring hinahangaan ang mga nakapagtapos na tulad ng mga kaibigan ko sa departamento. Pinagsisisihan ko pa rin kung bakit hindi ko tinapos ang una kong kursong pinasok sa kolehiyo. gusto kong maging duktor nuon. B.S. biology ang una kong pinasukan. Labis ko pa ring pinagsisihan kung bakit ako nag-shift ng kurso at napunta sa departamento ng Filipino at Philippine Studies na katatatag lamang nuon. At siguro hanggang ngayon, may kaunti pa rin akong pagnanasang makapagtapos. Ng kahit na anong kurso. Pero ewan ko ba. Hindi ko na makita ni maramdaman ang halaga ng pagtatapos. Dahil marami-rami rin naman akong natapos sa larangang pinili ko. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 11.0px Lucida Grande; min-height: 13.0px"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 11.0px Lucida Grande"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">ang malungkot lang, ang tanging kinikilala ng akademya ay ang mga taong nagtapos sa kanilang institusyon. hindi nito kikilalanin ang mga taong nagtapos sa labas ng kaniyang campus. wala namang halong pag-iimbot iyan. At tinatanggap ko iyan katulad ng pagtanggap ko sa marami pang bahagi ng buhay natin na madalas nating ituring na "E sa ganun talaga, e." </span></p><div><br /></div>Rody Verahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07768701772290052425noreply@blogger.com11