Ang walang-katapusang gyera ng artists kontra artists

Nora Aunor

(photo borrowed from http://entertainment.inquirer.net/145396/protests-over-new-national-artist-awardees-should-finally-lead-to-reforms)

NARITO na naman tayo. Nakakalimang blog na ako sa buwisit na temang ito, ngunit nandito na naman ako.

     Pa’no naman kasi, may listahan na namang inilabas para sa National Artist of the Philippines Award (na bibigyan ko rito ng acronym na NAOTPA) ang National Artist of the Philippines Award committee ng Cultural Center of the Philippines (CCP) at National Commission for Culture and the Arts (NCCA) at tila may gulo na naman. Sa mga pangalan na isinumite ng kumite (na inatasang gumawa ng listahan para sa award na ito), may isang nilaglag ang taga-aprubang Opisina ng Pangulo ng Republika ng Pilipinas. Nilaglag daw si Nora Aunor sa listahang isinumite.

     May ibinigay raw na dahilan ang Malacañang sa paglaglag, subalit ayokong patulan ito (kahit pa man sumagi sa aking isipan na baka ayaw lang ng estado na mabigyan ng isang tax-funded na award ang isang minsan pa'y naging simbolo, ayon sa estado, ng tax evasion). May kumuwestiyon sa dahilan na ibinigay ng Malacañang, pero ayoko ring patulan ang pagkuwestiyong ito. May mga panukala rin sa ilang sektor na baguhin na ang rules sa pag-award, at isa na rito ang tungkol sa pagbawas ng kapangyarihan ng Pangulo sa mga listahang isusumite ng kumite. Kahit ang panukalang ito, di ko rin pinansin. Ano pa nga ba ang magagawa ng ordinaryong Pilipino na tulad ko kundi ang magbuntong-hininga na lamang.

     Ang pinansin at pinatulan ko ay ang survey na pi-nost ng kaibigan ko sa Facebook na si Simkin de Pio, gallery owner. Sa post ni Ka Simkin sa Facebook group o community na ArtPhilippines, nanghingi siya ng boto ng mga miyembro ng grupo—mga artists, critics, art lovers, atbp. At ang virtual title ng post niya ay ito: ArtPh asks – The National Artist Awards: To Scrap or Not to Scrap, and Why?

     May tatlong pagpipilian sa post na ito ni Ka Simkin: 1) NO, I don’t think the National Artist Award should be scrapped, because…; 2) YES, I believe the National Artist Award should be scrapped, because…; at 3) MAYBE, who cares? It’s all politics and I reserve my right to abstain, because… Sa comment box, maraming nagbigay ng kani-kaniyang dahilan o di kaya ay disclaimer.

     Halimbawa, ang Facebook friend kong si Jonathan Benitez, Palawan artist na bumoto ng YES to scrapping the award, ay nag-offer ng kanyang mungkahing ito: "We need more art education and promotion and art critics."

     Na-engganyo akong mag-comment sa post matapos kong bumoto rin ng “YES to scrapping the award,” hindi lamang dahil Facebook friend ko si Ka Simkin, ngunit dahil isa ako sa tatlong ti-nag ni Ka Jonathan sa tanong niyang ito: “Curious lang ako, sir Pandy Aviado, bay Simkin de Pio, at Jojo Soria de Veyra. Bakit bata pa na-declare si Arturo Luz as National Artist? (And some people) don’t have a clue about him.”

     Di ko sinagot ang tanong ni Ka Jonathan tungkol sa edad ng mga naparangalan sa mga nagdaang taon ng NAOTPA, at di rin ako nagbigay ng general backgrounder tungkol kay Luz na maaaring magsilbing depensa sa worthiness ng conferment dito. Si Ka Simkin na ang nagbigay sa mga kaibigan ni Ka Jonathan ng backgrounder na iyon. Ang sinagot ko kay Ka Jonathan ay ire lamang:

ANG NASYONAL SA NASYONG ITO

“Yun talaga ang point, pareng Jonathan. Marami sa mga kababayan natin sa ating nasyon (as in ‘nasyonal’) ay walang clue tungkol sa mga nananalo o napararangalan. Maaaring ako ay may clue at maaaring saludo ako sa artist na napaunlakan, subalit dahil hindi ako statist kundi populist, hindi ko sasaluduhan ang prosesong statist o maka-state at hindi naman totoong maka-nation. Hindi isyu ang kung deserving ng honors o hindi ang isang naparangalan, ang isyu ay kung dapat bang mag-impose sa isang nasyon ang isang state ng ituturing nila (ng nasyon) bilang kanilang ‘nasyonal’ na artist. At dapat bang buwisan ang nasyon (kasama ang mga artists dito) para masuportahan ang tinuring na artists ng estado? Mapapansin mong ang mga bansa (o di kaya gobyerno) lang na may statist na persuasion ang may mga national artist conferments, Turkey halimbawa.”

     Sabi naman ng well-recognized na artist na si sir Buds Convocar, “Kapag ganyan naman ang naging basehan, baka mas maraming maging NA awardee na comics illustrators kaysa sa mga painters at sculptors—di kaya?” At may mahalagang point ang rhetorical question na ito ni Ka Buds na seryosong concerned sa quirks ng populism. Totoo nga namang mas maraming tao ang nagagalingan sa drowing ng mga comics artists kaysa sa painting ng mga minimalists. Babalikan natin ang isyung yan.

     Ang sunod namang tanong ni Ka Jonathan ay, “Ang Presidential Medal of Merit awardee ng US ba, walang monthly stipend, Jojo Soria de Veyra, Buds Convocar?”

     Sagot ko, “Di ko alam na may presidential medal of merit ang US, pre. Ang alam ko lang yung dating Medal for Merit na hindi naman para sa arts. Wala na yata yun.”

     At sa rhetorical concern ni Ka Buds, ito ang inoffer kong take: “Ang punto ko lang naman kasi, ang nasyon ay mayroon nang national artists (na naging national ayon sa kaniyang kultura at hindi ayon sa kultura ng minority elite) na hindi na kailangan pang bigyan ng capital letters para maging National Artists. Bakit ba kailangan maglaan ng tax money ang mga taga-estado para magbigay ng capital letters sa iilang artists na ‘nasyonal’ daw, nasyonal ayon sa kanilang pananaw sa konseptong ‘nasyon’ o di kaya ayon sa kanilang utopia ng kung ano dapat ang hugis ng kultura ng ating nasyon. Bilang isang demokratikong mamamayan at advocate ng democracy, hahayaan ko na ang pagiging multicultural ng ating nasyon, kaysa naman ipagpilitan ko sa inyo—kung ako na ang poderoso—ang mga kinagigiliwan kong artists na siyang maging Artists ng nag-iisa ang kultura nating Nasyon. Unang-una, ang Pilipinong ‘nasyon’ ay isang mito, isang myth.”

     Mas mabuti bang tawagin na lang nating Artist of the State Award ang NAOTPA, para klaro at di na magkagulo?

ANG NASYON NG PRIBILEHIYO

Maraming naging comments galing sa ibang members sa posted survey na ito ni Ka Simkin, both pro-NAOTPA and anti-NAOTPA. Ilalagay ko na lang dito ang aking mga naging sagot sa ilang mga mungkahi.

     Halimbawa, sa mungkahing dapat alisin na ang pribilehiyo ng Pangulo na pumili ng awardees mula sa listahan na isinumite ng NAOTPA selection committee, gayunman ang pribilehiyo nitong gumawa ng sarili niyang listahan, ang masasabi ko ay ito: Kung dapat walang ganitong pribilehiyo ang Pangulo ng nasyon, sino dapat ang may ganitong pribilehiyo? Ang Unyon ng mga Artistang Pilipino sa People's Republic of the Philippines? isang konsehong binubuo ng mga matagumpay na artists na magdedesisyon din para sa milyun-milyong tastes at appreciation ng milyun-milyong elemento ng nasyon?

     Tuwing may mga pararangalan sa NAOTPA, nagkakagulo ang nasyon ng mga artists at art lovers at media dahil sa iisang katotohanan: ang nasyon natin ng milyun-milyong Pilipino ay may kaniya-kaniyang gustong magawaran ng NAOTPA, kung kaya’t madalas ay minumura na ng ilang bahagi ng ating multicultural na nasyon ang kumite na inatasang pumili dahil sa kaniyang mga pinili o hindi pinili, gayunman ang Pangulo na nag-apruba, di nag-apruba, o gumawa ng sarili niyang listahan. Ang point ay ito: ang bawat indibidwal sa ating nasyon ng milyun-milyon ay may peyborit artist. Ngunit sa nasyong ito, ng milyun-milyon, may kumite ng estado na may last sey at may hawak sa NAOTPA. Entonces, sa NAOTPA, ang kumite ang nasyon, hindi ang totoong nasyon ng milyun-milyon.

     Sa Soviet Union noon, may Union of Soviet Writers na nagdedesisyon sa kung sino—officially—ang ituturing na magaling at mahusay at sino ang ituturing na pangit o walang kuwenta ang mga sinulat. Kasama si Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn do'n sa mga itinuring na pangit. Ito ba ang union na gusto nating itayo, o hayaang nakatayo, sa ating nasyon ng mga artists at art lovers?

     Ngunit may paraan naman daw para di maging hawak sa ilong ng estado ang kumite na itatayo, o nakatayo na. Para hindi ito maging beholden sa Pangulo o ruling party, may isusulat na bagong rules. But the fact is that any state institution always finds itself beholden to the leader of the state! And whenever and wherever it isn’t, it is only able to do so because of the presence of something else it can alternatively be beholden to, something other than the President, an opposition Congress, halimbawa.

     Maaari ba tayong makapagtayo ng isang state arts council na walang “impure motives” na magpapatakbo ng NAOTPA? Again, impure motives, obvious or sublime, will always be present in state sponsorship of artists and art-making, for the simple reason that the use of state funds for state favouritism is already impure from the start.

ANG NASYONALISTANG NASYON

Sa isyu ng nasyonalismo naman na nasa likod daw ng NAOTPA at sa pagpapalakas daw ng mga simbolo sa adhikaing ito, isantabi na muna natin ang problema ng mismong ideyalismo ng nasyonalismo bilang adhikain ng puso sa kabuuan nito, ang problema nito halimbawa sa pagiging crude (kapag nasa ngalan ng local o indigenous) o pagiging threatening (kapag nangingibabaw ang isang ‘Filipino ang art ko, banyaga iyang sa iyo’ o ang isang ‘buy Filipino art only, down with imported art’ na tibok ng puso nito).

     Iwanan muna natin ang epekto ng nasyonalismo sa trade economics at magfocus na lang tayo sa isang kategorya sa arts, sa visual arts, halimbawa. Maraming art contests ang may hangarin na tulad ng sa NAOTPA, ang palawigin ang sense of national pride and identity sa pamamagitan ng recognition para sa mga visual artists na nakagawa na ng kanilang di-matatawarang mga kontribusyon sa arts ng bansa. Hindi ko nga lang alam ngayon kung paano ito makatutulong sa pagbibigay sa ating mga kababayan ng ambisyong isulong ang kanilang mga sarili tungo sa dakilang landas ng ingenuity, social significance, at economic progress. Dahil kung tayo ay talagang seryoso sa hangaring ito, doon na ako ke pareng Jonathan sa sinabi niyang solusyon sa kakulangan ng ambisyon: “We need more art education and promotion and art critics.”

     Not necessarily professional art critics kundi art criticism exchange between artists and art lovers. Yun! Art criticism exchange. Hindi pag-aagawan ng medalya at trophy na may malabo o pantastikong pahalaga! Baka sa art education pa nga natin makita ang mga kakitiran sa mismong ideya ng “nasyonalismo.”

PAGLABU-LABO NG NASYON

Isa pa, alam natin na ang estado ay hindi parati para sa nasyon, kaya minsan ninanais natin na ang nasyon ay maging ang estado.

     Pero, ganun talaga. Di natin maaalis ang katotohanang may mga artists na hinihingi ang presensiya ng estado sa larangan ng sining, habang may mga artists naman na mas hiling ang di pakikialam ng estado sa larangang ito.

     Ang ibang artists nag-i-struggle na hindi makialam ang estado sa artmaking nila o sa kanilang artform o genre. Ngunit may panig ng artists naman na nagdedemand ng pakikialam (o suporta) ng estado sa mga artists. Siguro nga hindi ganun ka-obvious ang lalim ng difference na ito dahil nakatira tayo sa isang democracy kuno. Siguro mas magiging obvious ang lalim ng difference na ito kung nakatira tayo sa isang diktadurya o komunistang bansa. O di kaya pag napakialaman na ng estado (o ng taxpaying nation, for that matter) ang art natin at di natin nagustuhan ang pakikialam.

     Naroon ang “bipolarity” na ito, ang duwalismong ito, sa kahit saang lugar na may state sponsorship sa art activity o di kaya artistic achievement. Ang National Endowment for the Arts ng Estados Unidos, halimbawa, ay nananatiling isang contentious na programa na pinaglalabanan ang control ng mga konserbatibo at ng mga liberal sa naturang bansa. At dahil kadalasa’y liberal ang arts sa Estados Unidos, di nakapagtataka na ang mga sigaw ng pagbuwag ng NEA ay nanggagaling sa mga konserbatibo.

     Ngunit sa bansa natin, may isa pang duwalismong nangingibabaw maliban doon sa pagitan ng mga artistang maka-estado at artistang libertaryano. Sabi ni Ka Jonathan, “correct me if Im wrong, pero maraming National Artists na di kilala ng ordinaryong tao. Mas kilala si Justine Bieber at Mommy Dionesia (Pacquiao). Bakit kaya, ano ang problema?”

     Nung sinabi ni Ka Jonathan na kailangan ng bansa ang pagpapalawig ng arts education sa mga eskuwelahan at sa exchange ng mga artists at art lovers, nasagot na niya mismo ang sarili niyang rhetorical question na ito na kahawig nung tanong ni Ka Buds. Ang isyung ito ay tumatalakay sa duwalismo, o polarity, na namamagitan hindi lamang sa gitna ng mga maka-estado at libertaryano kundi rin sa gitna ng mga may nalalaman at walang masyadong alam. Pinalawig ko ng kaunti ang argumentong ito ni Ka Jonathan, para sa tenga ng iba, ng ganire:

     “Oo, Ka Jonathan, ang national artists ng masa at national artists ng elite ay nagpapakita lamang na hindi iisa ang nation natin. Makikita mo na walang ganung pagkakaiba, sa gitna ng mayaman at mahirap, sa mga bansang iisa ang kultura, at ito’y dahil sa pantay-pantay na edukasyon o oportunidad sa edukasyon. Tulad ng Japan, halimbawa.”

ANG (DI-)PAGHUPA NG LABU-LABO

Bakit ba naisip ni Ka Simkin ang ganitong survey posting? Marahil dahil sa may naririnig na siya sa paligid na mga mungkahing i-abolish na nga ang NAOTPA.

     Abolish? Bakit? Pa’no pa tayo magkakaroon ng great names sa dingding at kisame ng ating mga maka-sining na isipan kung itatapon na ito sa basurahan?

     Subalit, teka. Ang daming great names sa arts na hinahangaan natin, maging dito sa ating bansa o sa ibang bansa. Marami sa mga banyagang great names na hinahangaan natin ay walang "National Artist Award" sa kanilang bansa, at tila hindi nila kinailangan.

     I say let us be men and women of artistic success, thanks to the national market, rather than men and women of artistic success, thanks to the State! Dahil hindi kaya na ang dahilan kung bakit nagbibigay ang state ng isang national award (actually isang state award) ay para mapag-isa niya ang isang nasyon na alam niya ay hindi nagkakaisa? Plastik, kung ganun.

     State awards are a State’s affirmation of value. To a nation, folk singer-songwriter Gary Granada's efforts to infuse his personal and aesthetic values into the culture of his people, for example, might be the more noble, the more nationalistic product, no, popularly noble and nationalistic product as against the exclusively noble and only quasi-nationalistic product. Unless, of course, we define “noble” from the royalist perspective or metanarrative, which would be the perfect rationalization for the elitism in our nation’s supposedly “national” arts.

     At kung babalikan ko lang ang tinalakay nating goals o objectives ng mga ganitong award na may adhikaing pang-lipunan kuno, tingnan na lang natin ang Palanca contest. Nagkaroon ba ng literary culture ang buong Pilipinas dahil dito? Hindi. Dahil plastic ang mga ganitong paraan. Hindi tayo magkakaroon ng national pasalubong kung hindi ka magtatayo ng real-life doughnut shops sa bawat kanto at magbibigay ka lamang ng Best Doughnut Award para sa produktong hindi pa nakikita kung kaya’t di maapreciate ng tao. Hindi national bookstore ang National Bookstore kung wala itong virtual monopoly sa pagtitinda ng notebooks at tech pens at Grumbacher oils at binigyan lamang ng award kahit wala ito sa mga paborito nating malls. Sa ngayon, may dibisyon sa pagitan ng elite na nakakikilala sa mga artistang naparangalan at ng nasyon na walang kaalam-alam.

     Magiging patuloy na huwad ang lahat ng bagay na itinuring nating “national” hanggat di natin natatanggap itong dibisyon at pagkakaiba.

     Wala naman kasing masama sa division at difference kung hindi ito itatago, at i-aacknowledge na nariyan, at hindi ituturing na negatibo kundi positibo. Ang problema natin ay pag may nagsasabi, sa ngalan ng pagkakaisa, na ang gusto niyang si Chick Corea ay dapat papalakpakan din ng mga mahilig sa death metal o fliptop. Pag ang ganitong attitude ay nasa national scope, mas sakit sa ulo, dahil siguradong may aangal sa pandidikta.

     Subalit, teka, sino ba ang nandidikta?

     May nagsasabi na kapag pribadong award body, ang mga desisyon nito tungkol sa award ay prerogatiba ng pribadong institusyon, hindi pandidikta. Matatawag mo lamang na pandidikta kung galing sa estado, sa simpleng dahilan na ang mga galaw at desisyon ng estado ay pinopondohan ng buwis ng tao at ang pagbayad ng buwis ay idinidikta sa tao bilang obligasyon nito.

     So, hayaan na lang ba dapat na private institutions na lang ang magbigay ng art awards tulad ng Carnegie Art Award, o ng architecture prizes tulad ng Pritzker Architecture Prize? Dahil, oo nga naman, hindi magandang tingnan na ginagamit ang public fund para sa state patronage ng mga arts people. Ang Sweden nga na isang constitutional monarchy ay pinauubaya ang mga ganitong awards sa mga private institutions tulad ng Nobel. Bakit ba napaka-government-obsessed o state-reliant nating mga Pinoy, e alam naman nating divided tayo at multicultural at di magkakaisa sa iisang taste dictum, lalo na kung taste dictum galing sa Estado?

     At bakit nga naman kasi kailangan pa ng garbo tulad ng free hospitalization para sa awardees, e may kaya na naman ang karamihan ng nanalo at naparangalan? Samantala, ang majority ng Pilipino (at Pilipinong artists) na nagbabayad ng cultural tax ay di kaya magpaduktor. Ironic. Tila mas royalista pa tayo kaysa sa mga Swedish. . . .

     There are actually presently two competing powerbrokers in the arts—the State, on the one hand, and the private art industry, on the other. Some artists get patronage from both, others sa isa lang. Ako, bilang ordinaryong miyembro ng audience, nagbabayad ng ticket para ma-entertain ng private art industry, at nagbabayad ng ticket at nagbabayad din ng buwis para ma-entertain ng State art industry. Nga pala, bilang makata, nagbabayad din ako ng buwis para suportahan ang mga kapwa ko makata na ini-sponsor ng State.

     Hindi kailangan ng NAOTPA para may tingalain tayong mga artista ng nasyon o bayan. Walang national artist award si Picasso o si Ezra Pound o si Sid Vicious. In fact, it has been a reliance on such plastic contrivances of national valuation that has led us to ignore what is really needed para tingalain ng nasyon o ng bayan ang mga kahanga-hangang gawa ng ating mga artista.

     In fact, mayroong ebidensya na walang nagreresultang totoong pagtingala ang nasyon sa mga National Artists dahil naituring silang National Artists. Halimbawa, marami akong kilalang nakakikilala sa pangalan ni Jose Garcia Villa at pumapalakpak sa pangalan niya (proud sila na may isang Pilipinong nagtagumpay sa larangan ng pagtula na tulad ni Villa) kahit wala ni isang tula mula kay Villa pa silang nababasa. Ganun ang kulturang nabubuo ng isang plastik na pagiging maka-nasyon, o sa plastik na pagturing sa isang artista bilang artista kuno ng nasyon.

     Maganda ang naidudulot ng NAOTPA sa mga naparangalan nito in terms of adulation. Ngunit ang tanong ko uli: maganda ba ang naidudulot nito sa “nasyon” na siyang salitang ginagamit sa titulong ito? Ang tanong ko uli: nauuwi ba ito sa pasilitasyon ng pagbabasa ng mga nobela ni F. Sionil Jose o hindi? Pumapalakpak ba ang nasyon sa pangalan ni Jose kahit wala pa itong nababasang nobela niya? Kung gayun, walang saysay ang investment na ito.

     In contrast, walang National Artist of the Philippines Award si Granada. Ngunit kanino ang gawang mas kilala ng nasyon, ang sa kanya o ang mga nobela ni Jose? Sa tingin ko mas laganap ang pagkakilala sa ilang mga awitin ni Granada, bagamat hindi gano'n kalaganap dahil indie ang production niya, hindi major-record label produced and marketed, major-label distributed lang kung minsan. Sa case ni Jose, mababaw ang appreciation ng nasyon sa art ng nobela, kahit pa sa akademismo ng mga estudyante ng mga akademya. . . .

Gary Granada

     So, mayroon kayang mas makahulugang investment ang estado kaysa sa mga gimmick tulad ng NAOTPA? Oo naman. Unang-una, nasa kaniya na ang kapangyarihan na humubog ng kurikulum sa edukasyon. Ituturo niya ba ang mga elemento ng arkitektura o ituturo lang niya ang mga pangalan ng mga dakilang arkitekto sa pamamagitan ng awards? Bilang taxpayer, doon na ako sa una.

     In contrast, “In Japan,” commented painter Marcel Antonio, “there's no confusion when someone is declared a Living National Treasure. The award carries with it a sense of protecting or preserving a techne that embodies what is essentially and quintessentially Japanese, in the same way nature is preserved from extinction. It is the technique of pottery, a way of doing things, an ethos that is glorified, not the individual artist himself/herself.”

     At sino ba itong mga pinarangalang mga National Artists sa taong ito? Ano ang techne na ginoglorify sa pamamagitan ng paghirang sa kanila? Ano ang value ng mga techne na ito sa nasyon?

     Si Gat Cirilo Bautista ang isa sa mga pinarangalan ngayong taon. Isa rin siya sa iilang Pilipinong makata na maituturing kong may malaking impluwensiya sa sarili kong pagsulat ng tula, whether he’d like reading that pronouncement or not when he reads it. Sa valuation ko, isa na siyang national artist sa Jojo Soria de Veyra Nation. Sige, bibigyan ko pa ng capital letters ang “national” at ang “artist” title niya sa republika ko. Subalit, ito ang isyu ngayon: nung magpunta ako kanina sa palengke at bumili ng kalahating kilong manok, at ibinalita ko sa suki ko na nagawaran na nga ng National Artist of the Philippines Award si Gat Bautista, tanong ng suki ko: “ha? sino? Sino yun? Ano ba yang national artist reward na yan?” So much for national artists of nations.

     Kung may hangad akong karangalan para sa mga idol ko sa poetry o sa painting o sa music o sa architecture, para sa akin ay mas malaki at makabuluhang karangalan ang makita ko ang mga pangalan nila na kasali sa mga kinover ng textbooks kaysa sa makita ko lang sila sa roster ng NAOTPA na di makikilala ng tao o di maiintindihan ng tao ang kanilang cultural at aesthetic value.

     “Dito sa atin,” comment ng artist at gallery owner na si Ka Alfredo Liongoren, “dahil na- Hollywoodized ang kukuti natin, ginawa nating STAR ang mga may katangiang EHEMPLO NG LAHI, deviating attention away from their virtues for emulation and focused instead on their persons. We’ve cultivated a personality cult which has endorsement value for consumer products.”

     Tumpak. Parang ganun din yata sa industriya ng pulitika natin.

ANG MANANALO SA LABU-LABO

Ngayon, sa kalagitnaan ng mga comments sa post ni Ka Simkin, napansin ni Ka Simkin mismo ang mahigpit na labanan ng YES at NO votes.

     Ang sabi ko, “Ka Simkin, I predict that the negative (NO to scrapping) vote will win. We have always been a socialist nation desirous of state interference. Until the day, of course, the state interferes with our art. Even then, baka hindi pa rin.”

     At doon naman sa mga bumoto ng MAYBE, di ako naniniwala na kulang sila sa pusong-pakikialam sa mga laban ng bayan. Di naman siguro. Paniniwala ko’y di lang nila na-re-realize na galing sa kanilang ipinagkait na buwis ang pinag-paparty ngayon ng isang winner na ipinambili nito ng Cristal. They must know that this is a major concern to them as far as their 20% income tax payment and movie-ticket cultural tax payment, not to mention 12% VAT payments, are concerned.

     Now, the reason why I predicted a win for the NO-to-scrapping-the-NAOTPA vote is because matagal ko nang nakikita ito sa kahit saang probinsiya man ako magpunta. Ayoko sanang maniwala na damaged ang culture natin pag banyaga ang nagsasabi, subalit may damage akong nakikita sa sarili kong mga mata sa pananaw pa lang natin sa konsepto ng demokrasya. Sa aking mga nakikita, ang demokrasya sa marami nating kababayan ay “ang kalayaan kong magsalita na dapat wala sila.” Ibig sabihin, “dapat ako lang ang may kalayaang magsalita at mapakinggan, wala akong responsibilidad na makinig sa ibang nagsasalita.” Marami sa ating mga kababayan ang may ganitong sakit.

     Ganito rin tila ang anatomya sa paniniwala ng maraming artists na galit na galit sa gobyerno pag walang suporta itong ibinibigay sa propesyon ng sining o ng artista o sa taga-sining o artista na idols nila. Maliban sa wala silang pakialam sa pagkawalang-suporta rin ng gobyerno sa ibang malayang propesyon, halimbawa sa propesyon ng panadero o ng karpintero o ng accountant o ng welder, marami sa kanila ang naniniwalang mayroong obligasyon ang gobyerno sa kanilang practice. Ito lang ang problema: kapag pinauunlakan sila, sila'y nagiging masaya; subalit kapag iba ang napauunlakan, ipinahihiwatig nila na di nila maintindihan kung bakit iba ang napaunlakan. Ito ang problema sa likod ng walang-katapusang gyera ng artists kontra artists sa ating bansa.

     Ito ang puno't dulo ng isyu kung bakit hindi dapat nakikialam ang estado/gobyerno (gamit ang buwis na pera galing sa lahat) sa propesyon ng ilang artista o sa pag-value o di pag-value sa kanila. Hindi ito dapat nakikialam sa propesyon nila, tulad ng hindi nito pakikialam sa propesyon ng mga nagluluto ng adobo sa carinderia ni Aling Nena at sa sabungan ni Mang Kepweng. . . .

     “Hay,” sabi ko, sa aking pagbuntong-hininga. Gayunpaman, ako'y susunod sa prinsipyo ng demokrasya na nagsasabing ang boto ng nakararami ang masusunod. Kung gusto ng nakararami na bumoto sa pagkain ng tae habang nagrereklamo sa amoy nito sa bibig, wala akong magagawa kundi respetuhin ang kanilang piniling buhay, kahit pa sikreto kong pagtatawanan ang damage sa lohika ng pinili nilang buhay-gyera. [JSV]

     

• photo kay Cirilo Bautista hiram galing sa http://culturalcenter.gov.ph/press-room/2012-gawad-ccp-para-sa-sining-awardees-named/
• photo kay Gary Granada hiram galing sa http://www.pep.ph/news/20768/gma-network-and-gary-granada-issue-new-statements-over-jingle-controversy 

Two fruits, one tree (or, why there is no such thing as a national artist)

photo from http://pinoyweekly.org/new/2013/03/sining-ng-paglikha-ng-kasaysayan/

Through our friendly exchange of comments on Sylvia Mayuga’s Facebook wall regarding the ongoing National Artist of the Philippines title award debacle, Lila Shahani, a doctoral candidate at Oxford University (London) working on her postcolonial literature in English degree and who used to work for the Cultural Center of the Philippines and the Gawad CCP committee, observed a “somewhat promiscuous and occasionally rather putrid need to constantly canonize in the Philippines.” She went on to propose a national art completed through a process “more natural, more organic, where the cultural minutiae comes alive on its own.” Still, the hanging question was, Why this eternal craze for “canonization” and official recognition by a nation?

     Well, apart from the lack of an audience for many artists which might require forcing such an audience by legal declaration, my other quick explanation to that hanging query is this: we are not a nation. We have never been, and we just might never be. You see, a long time ago a colonizer declared the people of this archipelago “of ours” as one nation of “Filipinos”; then that colonizer left and we were likewise left with the vague duty of continuing the realization of that declaration. However, there are many factors keeping us from realizing that mission—regional, regionalist and religious divisions are just some of these. But I would like to focus on two very important factors, two basic ones responsible for the constant and unflagging division in our nation and which I believe are at the root of such cultural issues as this surrounding the recent National Artist of the Philippines title debacle—viz., language and education. (Let’s lay aside for the moment the issue of politics governing National Artist selection, as I am more concerned in this essay with the masses’ unconcern).
     Okay. Now, some will say we are divided into two nations, the rich Filipinos’ nation and the poor Filipinos’ nation. That is also true. But that view can be tricky in the art of explaining the economics behind it, so I’d rather trace things to the more obvious dividing tool: language. (As I write this, for instance, I’m fully aware of my readership, and that readership does not include my neighbors in our barangay).
     In the Spanish era we were introduced to feudalism, and within that feudal system was entrenched a wedge that would forever keep the poor from reaching the landlord’s sons’ and daughters’ level. That tool was language. Spanish became the mode of instruction in the academies, and—since society operated under a feudal system—the academies would mostly be affordable only to the landed gentry or the merchant class, seldom to working class elements or the peasantry who could only rely on the charity of private or public scholarships. The learned from Spanish, therefore, could thus only become more learned by Spanish. Those denied access to the language from childhood might be able to keep up a bit, but only up to a point (the same way that what we now regard as OFW English can only function for certain functions but not in the alta sociedad ballroom functions, unless you are Manny Pacquiao’s mom).
     Now, when the Americans came and went, that systemic bent of wedging a divide between the poor (Tagalog-speakers) and the rich (now English-speakers) was not removed. Sure, there were efforts to come up with a language we could call our own, which my great grand-uncle Jaime de Veyra was party to. Declared as the national language, Tagalog (which would later be academicized to be known as Filipino) had a nationalist rationale-cum-agenda; but it did not seem to be aware of its potential in ultimately removing the poor-rich wedge tool, the language divide. The nationalists spoke Tagalog in public functions, but kept their snobbery by English’s way with the rest of the upper class in their daily exclusivist conversations concerning keeping up with the white Joneses. The national language mission was designed for nation-making, never for nation-uniting. And the problem with that was, the nation got to be made by the new landed gentry and the new merchant class who were being educated by Thomasite standards.
     Since language and education are like the left and right arms of every citizen that makes coping with daily life a whole lot easier, that wedge in Philippine society separating the left arm and the right arm to make life more difficult necessarily manifested itself in all facets of society’s operations, including that activity called the arts. And so the poor Filipino nation generally listened to radio soap operas and pop music and watched cinema entertainment in Tagalog, while the rich Filipino nation primarily listened to radio news and music in both Tagalog and English and watched English soap operas on TV and English movie-theater movies. Sure, rich entrepreneurs made Tagalog literary masterpieces for the masses, but that doesn’t mean they preferred these to their self-Americanization or self-Europeanization ideals.
     It was logical therefore to see a two-pronged development of the arts. The Tagalogeros’ arts included, among others, still life and Last Supper paintings on plywood or katsa (low-grade cotton canvas) made by maglalako painters (painter-vendors) who intended these for dining room display. Their art, similarly colonial as their upper-class masters’, also included American jet fighter jeepney sticker art, and such other manifestations of colonial idolatry. The Ingleseros’ arts, meanwhile, included—among others—painting inspired by the painting concerns of the moment in New York/Berlin/London/etc., emulations of Italian industrial design, and so on. The former became prisoners in their own country and were only able to do so much artistically, while the latter generally became prisoners of their old and continuing colonialist ideals—but that is a different issue.
     Thus, today, by virtue of that language divide that entrenched an educational divide that in turn created artistic divides, we continue to face the problem of addressing the concepts of what a national art is, who a national artist is, when a national art or artist is, and how national is a national artist.
     Politicians would find it easy to give out answers since their usual concern with the arts is political. Artists seem to have a more difficult time with it, since they would be more genuinely concerned with defining what is art and what is national.

Now, I forget who it was who wrote in the ’80s, in the American magazine The Saturday Review, something like this: “every time I see an I Love New York sticker, I know New York is in decline.” Something like that. Well, every time I see a symbol of canonization, like a National Artist award for someone, I know it’s ultimately a symbol of desperation.

     Desperation, I say, because we (consciously or subconsciously) know we have not yet realized the old proposal to be a nation and have thus remained constantly divided—not just regionally but regionalistically, religiously, linguistically, economically. The compounded result of which is finding ourselves eternally crazy about such exercises of false nationhood as following a rigid performance of the national anthem (as against the US’ allowing much leeway in the performance of its own). We have acquired thus a hunger for perfect symbols: a national hero, a national flower, a national fruit, a national fist, a national pasalubong, a national book store, whatever national else. Subconsciously, we know that we really don’t represent anything collectively. Culturally, Sudan’s infighters seem better off, for they know they are fighting for specific ethnic rights and also ownership of specific oil territories. We, on the other hand, celebrate our symbols the way we celebrate our religious days and icons—blindly most of the time, wishfully at best. Rizal the fighter for autonomy or independence is loved on Rizal Day even as we continue to embrace the dictates of the economists of foreign creditors, which is the same behavior we display every time we congratulate ourselves for a nice mass (on a Sunday or Saturday), even as we’ve come to love the things Jesus of Nazareth used to hate.

     Blindly, therefore, unfazed do we march forward—albeit in a haze—toward what could bring us true nationhood. Nationalizing anything and everything has become our desperate and self-assuring habit. I find it easy to say that by simply trying to be a nation and trying blindly, we will never attain our objective. For nationhood, you see, cannot be constructed by imposing wishful thinking on a people within a territory via momentary spurts of sloganeering and songs of “magkaisa tayong mga Pilipino” every time there’s a news-friendly event requiring commonality, or every time we come up with a utopia of obedience under the rubric of a “Strong Republic.” Nationhood takes a lot more effort than that. Some even had to build a nation through a war cause. Or a peace cause. There was always a uniform direction within the internal divide.
     But that’s on the one hand. On the other hand, there is the Karl Popperian idea of a democratic society that proposes to create a nation by constant democratic exchanges, internal economic exchanges, and pluralism. What these exchanges demand is the achievement not of uniformity for the sake of nation-building but plurality and variety for the sake of “free society”-building. This demands an atmosphere akin to a town fair with competing booths, the thesis being that unifying by way of unifying breaks a nation, while enhancing differences under the parameters of opinionated aggression as well as the “acceptance of one’s obsolescence” (Popper) creates the necessary physical human unity consisting precisely of more exchanges and the consequent nurturing of a continuing mutual respect. We do not have that in our idea of democracy. Our idea of democracy remains: to have the freedom to speak and not to own the responsibility to listen—but this, too, is another issue.
      Suffice to say that our nation is not made up of a demos of a people, which should be one and the same thing; instead we have educated lords lording it over the demos, creating two peoples. Thus we continue to nationalize anything and everything to embark on this subconscious mission to hide the truth; it has become our reflex action and attitude towards every frustrating event that occurs in our midst. Instead of decentralizing culture to create that town fair atmosphere, we announce on the speakers that everyone in the town fair should wear blue and red shirts and jeans. We do not just crave for a nation, we try to design a nation, and we take it upon ourselves to act on that duty. The problem is, even with an obedient people we cannot acknowledge the fact that we cannot even give them orders if they are speaking a different language.
     The process of elitist nation-making can be quite funny, too—it shows us how nation-shapers can become parodies of themselves. And that is not just in our archipelago where things are not even funny anymore. The American Grammy Awards, for instance, has a system wherein peers can nominate only those artists who have reached a certain number of sales in the market; this is similar to the Hall of Fame awards system wherein mayors and governors and sports investors take the ritual photo op on the day of conferment, not realizing they actually waited decades before they could say, “oh okay, he's still not forgotten, maybe we can give him the award now.” Who the hell needs that conferment in the first place when the people already gave it to the man/woman centuries ago? What the hell is a Grammy nod all about if what is required is a market nod first? Now, of course there are honors that really honor, and these are usually the awards that do not pretend to derive from somewhere else. But the rest are crap, and these are usually the awards that pretend to have been conferred by an Academy when in fact it had indirectly been conferred by the people firstly, or these are the ones that pretend to have been conferred by the nation, or by the city, or by the barangay, when in fact an institution took it upon itself to speak for the nation/city/barangay. The National Artist title award is that latter type of carabao dung. And the sad part of it is it not only pretends to be an award by the nation for an “artist of the nation,” sans a definition of who a nation is composed of, it even wastes the people’s tax money—the only thing truly of the people and by the people in that award. And from now on, the filmmakers of our land will pay their cultural taxes to pay for C-movie filmmaker Carlo Caparas’ monthly stipend, the new controversial awardee.
     Consider, however, that Carlo Caparas—a product of profit-based movie marketing for the masses created by rich movie producers—is not an “academic” artist, and perhaps also why a lot of arts people were astounded by the conferment. Now, Caparas may be a bad artist, but that says something else again: the world of academic artists and the world of an educated politician like Gloria Arroyo cannot seem to meet on the same plain. Why is this? Perhaps Gloria Arroyo does not really believe Caparas to be worthy of the award; she has been so wily a politician, as many of us have been wont to say. If so, then it would make perfect sense that Gloria Arroyo chose to confer the award on somebody who in her opinion might be her people’s champ able to go against the elite artists’ preferred refined champ.

“What is this constant need to deify, whether it’s the Gawad CCP or National Artist award?” asked Lila Shahani.

     Apart from the Gawad CCP and National Artist awards, which are national efforts, let me digress to the Palanca Awards, which is a private effort. Some would aver that it would be unfair of me to touch this last as it is not of the same bunch—but they are of the same bunch. First, though, the disclaimer. Palanca’s sin is not a grave one, for it only pretends to be an “award” even as it is really a contest prize for contest applicants with three judges sitting for each category instead of a committee like, say, the Swedish Academy for the conferment of one award. It only pretends to be like the National Critics Circle awards (an honor honest about its being a circle’s honoring someone) even as it is actually the American Idol of Philippine literature. And Philippine writers play along—for the money, or for the credentials (since the literati have already attached themselves to it as an institution). A writer-friend says some of these Palanca-participating writers would even adjust their writing styles for whoever is going to sit as a major judge in a year’s contest (it’s a small community, you can’t keep a secret), but that’s another matter and I cannot name names.
     But at least the Palanca doesn’t pretend very much to be of and for a nation. It acknowledges that it is of and for writers and is only an opportunity medium for . . . actually I think for the propagation of the easy transfer of styles of patronage.
     I do not, however, think the Palanca to be entirely useless. I would only rather that it was a publishing and distribution grant so readers can access/check its winners. In short, so it can be a part of a potential literary market and potentially of the nation.
     Let me discourse further on Palanca’s role in my arguments here later. First, Lila Shahani points out that international publishers like Random House seem more interested in ethnic voices than in national voices, in an Australian aborigine writer than in an Australian writer, at least presently. And that is really because book publishers are moved by the forces of market tastes and market availability and marketability and market niches. They are moved by such principles as positioning, product image, product identity. They know what they are looking for.
     “If you want to make it in the Philippine market,” Ms. Shahani opines from experience to provide a contrast, “it is useful to celebrate some aspect of our national identity. So would a Filipino version of Aravind Adiga’s White Tiger make it back home [Shahani is writing from India], with all its criticisms of India? Unlikely. Instead, even if one is not necessarily formally gifted, as long as one celebrates the pastoral, the indigenous or the national, one is bound to be awarded eventually. Isn’t this as dubious as the criteria for multicultural writing internationally?” In my two earlier blog essays here under the National Artist label, this was what I referred to as a propensity to institutionalize—through the National Commission for Culture and the Arts and the CCP—safe art.
     And this is precisely how Filipino movements for idealizations operate, however various the approaches are by the different NCCA directors or CCP chairmen. And if we are to go back to the Palanca, which is governed more by the standards of its sitting judges from a previous or newly-established generation of writers than by any government interest, it sadly still turns out to be another form of convention propagation, or conventional innovation, and all because judges would not be inclined to interest a market, or a people, or a readership. Its judges would be mostly concerned with their aesthetic idealizations for an imagined market, an imagined people, and the small readership who may or may not love those idealizations since the judges and writers would have no way of knowing since Philippine literature is often for free. Almost nobody in my barangay has probably even read a poem or story by a Palanca winner. And if you say not all barangays are like my barangay, I would bet you my whole year’s salary if you can give me a barangay with even at least 20% of its population having read a book by a Filipino creative writer apart from the required Noli Me Tangere and El Filibusterismo in college. I know this is not Czechoslovakia, and I know that neither is this Russia with taxi drivers reading Russian novels in Russian by Russian writers.
     So, what am I saying? Am I preaching nation-making by proposing a mono-lingual utopia?

In the early post-Marcos decades, there have been efforts to democratize the elite arts. The CCP even toured ballet performances to the provinces in the late ’80s through its outreach program. It was the institution’s way of hoping that if you bring a thing to the people, the people would eat that thing. If you give them caviar, they’d go “ooh.” Well, that seemed to be the prayer, at least. The CCP’s nationalizers were understandably offended when they didn’t get those bravos, or got offended more when they got a “mas masarap pa ang bagoong dyan e” sort of response to their West-inspired art.

     But, get this. This approach was not exclusive to the elitist in the arts who thought like Imelda Marcos in saying, the way to erase an elite is to make an elite element out of everyone. No, even the Marxists in the academic world did come up with their own designs for nation-making. They said people should have access to our books, and so our writers should start writing in the people’s language, Filipino. The problem was, and still is, this: language doesn’t seem to operate merely through words, it also takes its personality from the education it got (and the jobs and wages that this education got it), and from the access to a bookstore that went along with its being able to find that meager job thanks to the meager education it got. Sure you can tell a people and their language, “hey, pare, mare, hindi ito sonnet, ito ay isang soneto,” but that, ladies and gentleman, would not change the politics around the art commodity—coining a new local word for an alien object would not readily assimilate that object into the accepted culture of the larger society nor guarantee its acceptance after having been understood. In short, you may change the politics within an art, the language and its contents, but that would not change the elitist aura of all Philippine art that do not derive from the barangays or the people themselves and their education (the education afforded them by a poorly-accorded privilege).

     Ms. Shahani also shared this observation: “the ones we seem to idealize (in this context I have more experience with Gawad CCP) are the ones with fairly obvious and identifiable nationalist references.” That would be emulating or aping the Pulitzer, but at least the Pulitzer is clear on that in all its press releases, and the Pulitzer had had material that involved American characters in foreign lands (Saul Bellow’s Henderson the Rain King almost won). Still and all, nationalism as a rationale for a Gawad is still merely tinkering with the content of the message, not fixing the real root of the absence of a nation-audience. “Unless you’re in awe of the greats, you’re in trouble, it seems,” Lila adds, and to me that’s a signal frustration with our collective fear for the “nationalist greats,” nationalist greats who are however unperturbed by the threat of the nationally uneducated (or unperturbed at least by our money-wasting in all this arts funding).
     So, in the end, what am I preaching? Well, if I am to preach here at all, I shall do it by referencing my admiration for what the novelist and short story writer Jose Dalisay wrote somewhere, sometime ago, to the effect of confessing that he is a bourgeois writer writing in a bourgeois way on non-bourgeois themes for a bourgeois audience. He didn’t put it that way, really; I did. But that’s basically what he was saying and basically what he has been doing. Now, if only the national arts committees of this god-forsaken nation could muster the same boldness to acknowledge its standing in the nation and stop pretending to be of the nation, then maybe we can begin the job of really making this nation one.
     Until that time comes, I will continue to refuse to call any Filipino artist—including myself—a national artist or an artist of the nation. There can be no such animal in this jungle. [END]

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After reading the above blog essay, Sylvia Mayuga emailed me an article that shall be a part of her new anthology to be published by the Ateneo de Manila University Press. The article is actually a review of the book A Country of Our Own by California-based Cebuano writer David Martinez, a poet who---it turns out---seems to carry the same belief as mine concerning the mythology of our nationhood, though he develops his piece in a more researched though perhaps less sanguine way to produce his "tour de force" on the issue (Ms. Mayuga's phrase). Mabuhay sab ka, bay.

     But it gets better. Sylvia wrote "New Morning for Inang Bayan," extolling the positive coming off a negative event, including this blog---along with an interview with Ms. Shahani---in the limelight of her prose as she rose to her finale. That was quite embarrassing and an honor.