Sunday, June 25, 2006

Incarcerated But Undaunted


(published in www.bulatlat.com)

Crispin Beltran, 73 years old and hypertensive, could be mistaken for an ordinary senior citizen confined at the Philippine Heart Center (PHC) for Asia in Quezon City. But having two armed Philippine National Police (PNP) personnel stationed outside his room and their companions prowling the nearby corridors shows otherwise.

Beltran, veteran labor leader turned parliamentarian, will be spending his fourth month of detention under police custody at the Room 429 of this hospital. To date, he has already spent two months at the PHC, two months at the General Hospital of Camp Crame, and one week in solitary imprisonment since his arrest by the PNP last February 25. Yet Beltran, or Ka Bel (Comrade Bel) as he is more popularly known, generally remains undaunted, knowing that these days only signify a lull before the storm.

At Camp Crame

Inside Ka Bel’s room, it is impossible not to be reminded of the political crisis. Stickers bearing the slogan Free Ka Bel Now! End political harassment! are all over the room. Decorating the bare walls is a black-and-white poster with the six party-list representatives from Bayan Muna (People First), Anakpawis (Toiling Masses) and Gabriela Women’s Party (GWP). Hung next to his bedside are two canvas ‘bibs’, with the words P125, Ipaglaban! (Fight for a P125 [legislated wage increase for workers]) and Cha-Cha, Ibasura! (Junk Charter Change!).

These are the same issues that Ka Bel has been advocating as Anakpawis party-list representative before being arrested without a warrant by the PNP on February 25, 2006, a day after President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo declared a state of national emergency through Presidential Proclamation (PP) 1017.

PP 1017 was later declared unconstitutional by the Supreme Court of the Philippines. But Beltran continues to be detained under false and fabricated charges of inciting to rebellion—a charge that the Department of Justice (DOJ) also slapped against at least 51 other individuals, including Beltran's colleagues from the progressive party-list bloc in the House of Representatives.

Beltran was the only one among the six who was caught and detained at Camp Crame. Despite suffering from hypertension and a minor stroke two years ago, Ka Bel was forcibly detained in an isolated cell at Camp Crame and subjected to a sham inquest proceeding a day after.

At first, the PNP jailed Ka Bel at the Custodial Center of Camp Crame for a week, treating him like a high-profile criminal. He was confined in a solitary cell: a bare rectangular space measuring around 2 meters by 4 meters with steel bars on one end. Fully-armed police personnel guarded the hallways, and food was served tied up in little plastic bags, he said.

Kung ano ang sitwasyon ko noong 1982 ay ganoon din ngayong 2006,” (My situation in 1982 is the same as now in 2006.) Ka Bel recalled of that period of incarceration at the Custodial Center.

Beltran was jailed and tortured as a political prisoner under Martial Law, along with the late Kilusang Mayo Uno (KMU or May First Movement) Chairperson Felixberto “Ka Bert” Olalia, in Camp Crame in 1982. Ka Bel eventually escaped from prison and fled the city, while Ka Bert eventually succumbed to a heart attack while in prison. The rebellion charges filed against Beltran were eventually dropped by the Aquino administration after Pres. Ferdinand Marcos was overthrown by People Power in 1986.

A detention cell

Despite his resolve to remain strong, Ka Bel experiences recurring nightmares about being tortured again and even assassinated while in the Custodial Center.

This contributed to the further deterioration of the 73-year old solon’s health. By March 2, Ka Bel's dangerously high blood pressure levels compelled the police to transfer him to the camp's General Hospital—not much of a difference, in retrospect, as the place did not have adequate medical facilities or services.

The transfer did little to lessen his agitated state. Nonchalant and inconsistent medical services forced them to double-check his health, Beltran's nightmares about being assassinated while in police custody continued, and sudden incursions by police clad in full battle gear into his room kept him in a state of red alert and worry, he said. Reporters were also barred from visiting his room.

“This is not a hospital, this is a detention cell,” Ka Bel and his family members said.

Sa PNP General Hospital, wala akong panahon para mag-relax. Palaging okupado ang isipan at apprehensive kami sa mga guwardiya, dahil nasa bituka kami ng kaaway,” ( I do not have time to relax while at the PNP General Hospital. My mind is always occupied and we are apprehensive of the guards. We are right inside the enemy’s territory.) Beltran said.

To keep him distracted, Ka Bel's family and staff began bringing him newspapers and documents for him to read. An old typewriter and pad paper were brought into the room, where he would compose letters to friends and colleagues and statements to media about various issues. A laptop belonging to one of his kids was also brought in, as Ka Bel wanted to learn how to use a computer.

Change of scenery

On April 24, the Makati Regional Trial Court finally granted Beltran permission to transfer to the Heart Center for humanitarian reasons, despite the objections of the PNP and the DOJ. After nearly two days of waiting, Ka Bel was finally transferred to Room 429 of the PHC.

The transfer to the Heart Center was a change of scenery for Ka Bel. There, he was finally able to undergo a battery of much-needed medical tests, monitoring and rest.

It was also there where Ka Bel spent his first Labor Day away from the traditional street demonstrations in Manila. As a former chairperson of the KMU, the largest militant labor center in the Philippines, Beltran registered a “perfect attendance” at all Labor Day rallies since People Power 1 in 1986. His frustration and sadness over this year’s absence was somewhat eased by a fellow patient's celebration of her birthday party on May 1, in the adjoining room, he recalled.

Deprived of the right to go home, Ka Bel's family and 27 grandchildren regularly attend to him at the hospital, bringing fruits and running small errands for their Lolo Di (Grandfather Di). On weekends, his grandchildren cuddle up on Ka Bel's bed to watch cartoon reruns and sports matches on TV.

During the long afternoons, Ka Bel avidly watches boxing, his favorite sport, on television. His love for the sport is such that even his family and visitors find it hard to distract him from glancing at the blow-by-blow matches every now and then.

Ka Bel's family time is occasionally interrupted as visitors from all walks of life drop by during hospital hours: legal counsels and human rights lawyers, activists, congressional staff, religious leaders, fellow solons and government officials, labor and peasant leaders, foreign visitors, writers, students, and—somewhat ironically--people seeking medical assistance.

Virtual office

Ka Bel has been kept immobile by his detention, but strives to keep his body and mind strong. Although he devotes an hour each morning for a few rounds of push-ups and stretching exercises along the hospital corridors, Ka Bel said that is still a far cry from his previous dawn “work-outs” of planting vegetables at home as a practicing farmer before going to Congress in the morning.

Dito [sa ospital], hindi ako gaanong pinapawisan,” (Here in the hospital, I do not sweat a lot from working out.) Ka Bel said, obviously missing the small plot of soil and vegetables he has carefully tended for months.

Nowadays, Ka Bel is usually clad in the PHC's standard hospital gown and slippers. But he quickly dons a red Anakpawis cap with a small Congressional seal, whenever visitors arrive.

This hospital room has also turned into a virtual office. Ka Bel spends his extra time poring over newspapers and books, as he used to during breaks at the House of Representatives. He keeps a can full of pens and pencils beside him, to underline important passages in news stories and quotes.

Barred from attending events ordinary citizens are free to go to, Ka Bel keeps himself updated on the political and economic developments of the day by constantly monitoring the news. Stationed next to his medicines are stacks of documents and reading materials: newspapers, congressional reports, legal documents and books. A small television is kept on for most of the day, and Ka Bel's trusty old radio set is occasionally turned on in order to monitor radio reports.

Prevented from visiting his constituents, the people have taken it upon themselves to go to Ka Bel. Pickets, masses, and group visits are frequently held outside the hospital, the largest to date being a 200-strong strong contingent of peasants from Central Luzon and Southern Tagalog last week.

The hospital room is also turning to be a virtual library. A voracious reader, Ka Bel also finished reading several books while in detention. He barely finished with John Perkins' Confessions of an Economic Hit Man and the handbook Health for the People published by the Council for Health and Development, when he picked up Dante Simbulan's The Modern Principalia and Ibon Foundation's Empty Promises, Empty Stomachs.

Visitors also drop by to give him reading materials. The copies of The Poverty of Memory: Essays on History and Empire (by Red Constantino) and Renato Constantino: A Life Revisited (Rosalinda Pineda-Ofreneo), for instance, are gifts. Outside the room, Ka Bel's custodians are also occasionally seen reading pocketbooks to fight boredom.

Raging against complacency

Despite the lull he experiences in between court hearings, one can sense fire burning inside Ka Bel's calm exterior, especially at this time of intense human rights violations against activists.

Gusto kong makaganti,” (I want to get even.) he said whenever he hears of more extrajudicial killings of activists, many of whom he has known personally.

At times, sadness and anger overwhelms him whenever visitors and comrades arrive to share stories. Ka Bel's voice breaks, and he temporarily excuses himself for a few minutes inside the comfort room.

Yet the veteran labor leader finds inspiration in the fact that younger mass leaders of progressive organizations continue to remain undaunted and militant despite intensifying political repression.

“They are generally dedicated. Hindi sila natatakot,” (They are not afraid.) Ka Bel said of this younger generation of leaders, perhaps seeing in them the qualities he possessed as a trade union leader decades ago.

Among other things, Ka Bel is now looking forward to critiquing President Arroyo's upcoming State of the Nation Address (SONA) as Congress resumes the remainder of its sessions this July.

“GMA will be drumming up the false gains of her labor export policy and development councils. She will be reiterating her so-called God-given qualities for the Presidency and brag about her non-existent accomplishments, which is so insensitive in the midst of so much landlessness and poverty among the people,” Ka Bel said.

The Arroyo administration may have temporarily prevented Ka Bel from fulfilling his duties as a duly-elected party-list representative of the toiling masses. But from the looks of it, this temporary spate of political repression has affirmed Crispin Beltran's resolve to prepare for a longer fight ahead. Ka Bel may have been slightly immobilized by his arrest and incarceration, but he remains unbent and unbound, remembering how periods such as these have always signified the lull before the coming storm.

Photo above by Jes Aznar

Saturday, June 10, 2006

salvaged poem

Reflections on a damp evening in a distant land


You exhibit a translucency
On nights such as these:


Tonight, as smoke
Descends on stars,

When the moon
Is a sliver of nectar
On a dew-spattered plain,

Rumors of exits
Stain monsoons

And seep through mists
Obscuring mountains.


In these dim nights of
Inchoate sadness, you are
Real: wafts of sunlight
Streaked with dust-motes; livid, like the glare
Of languid afternoons. Without you, the night
Acquires a solitary luminescence
As with transience, or rage

or silence.

Unsettling, how the recall of your face

blazes like braziers

On nights such as these.



*ca. 2000. dug this up from the archives of an old moldy notebook. i rededicate this to erika salang, whose valiant story continues to humble us and remind us of the whys and hows.

Friday, June 09, 2006

A Multitude of Muses

Whom the Muses endow, they endow bountifully. In this year's Walong Filipina exhibition last March, the Liongoren Gallery features women artists who have been precisely, bountifully endowed with a multitude of talents spanning the range of arts, and who have chosen to carve their own paths apart from that delineated by the traditional and the predictable.

This year's Walong Filipina exhibition pays homage to a wide range of arts and cultural disciplines. It, for instance, is notable in the sense that it has given space to photography, installation, and graphic art by Filipina cultural workers, as well as focus on women artists who have chosen to depict national minorities and their respective cultures as their subjects. The show has also provided space to women cultural workers who, while already recognized in other fields of the arts, continue to practice their vocations alongside their personal art-production.

Traditional genre such as portraits and landscapes also populate the Walong Filipina show, although not wholly in the predictable sense of the word. The woman artists in this show who utilize traditional artistic media and techniques nonetheless produce fresh images through their choice and depiction of their respective subject matter.

In her Taal Series, for instance, nurse and gallery owner Rollie Yusi utilizes her mastery of watercolour techniques to depict delicate vistas of the popular tourist destination. Taal On A Clear Day, for instance, is modelled through overlapping washes that delineate sky from sea; nuances of pigment evoke the whiff of breeze wafting through coconut leaves, the calm lapping of wind upon lake, islands unfolding through the haze. Works lightly tinged with rose and purple evoke the transition between dawn, dusk, or the calm before a storm. Yusi's enchanting 'lakescapes', so to speak, defamiliarize and make distant a site that has continually been occupying the State's glossy and tourism-oriented ad spiels.

Multi-awarded singer-songwriter Cynthia Alexander alludes to personal narratives in her paintings through the poetic continuity of images. Coming Back, presumably a self-portrait of the artist, discreetly depicts in the background the figure of a woman with an umbrella, back turned to the viewer. In another painting entitled Takipsilim , this same woman is intriguingly depicted as a central image, walking away into a distant and moonlit landscape. Alexander's use of blue and yellow pigments to exclusively delineate light from shadow in the works also convey a tone of mystery in the stories hidden beneath the literal images of the works.

This year's Walong Filipina also features Filipina women artists from the South, and their continuing desire to popularize and document images of traditional ethnic culture. Ligaya Amilbangsa, while foremost known as a groundbreaking scholar and practitioner of the pangalay (a traditional popular festival dance of the Sulu archipelago), displays in this show her lifelong love for the dance . Such a cultural advocacy is overtly reflected in her paintings, such as the self-portrait entitled Pangalay Rising (oil on canvas, 2004). In this work, the artist depicts self throughout the stages of performing the sinuous rhythmic movements of the dance, donning the janggay (extended metal finger nail) while positioned beside a gabbang (Tausug bamboo xylophone, decorated with exquisite wood carvings).

Amilbangsa's lifelong efforts to depict and document the living cultural traditions of the Tausug tribes in Southern Philippines are likewise seen in works such as Seaside (2004), a quaint portrait of a pottery vendor cradling her baby in their hut spanning the sea. This work on pastel depicts a traditional and nearly-universal theme in art history (mother and child) in the context of local Tausug society.

The resolve to depict woman from national minorities throughout the Philippines and the living indigenous traditions is likewise invigorated in the works of art teacher and gallery owner Lea Padilla and documentary photographer and researcher Ma. Cristina Saulo.

If Amilbangsa's channels her advocacies through scholarly studies and active pedagogical efforts, Padilla's practice as a Mindanao-based cultural practitioner is channelled through her proprietorship of the Linya Gallery in Iligan City and her personal works.

Padilla similarly locates near-universal scenes in the local context, producing images that depict familiar human routines and motions (the act of genuflecting before a meal, or creating communal music, for instance) amidst the initially unfamiliar array of local ornamental motifs. Padilla's works point to a vibrant and intense familiarity with the patterns of the local. In her Pagana Maranao Series (acrylic on canvas, 2006), the artist juxtaposes solid and strung hues and flat backgrounds with intricate and painstakingly-rendered details of Southern Philippine decorative motifs, seen in the ukkil embellishments all throughout the textiles, accessories, tableware, and musical instruments that populate the spaces of her works.

Also present in this year's Walong Filipina show are notable Filipina photographers and their works. Ma. Cristina Saulo depicts the woman of the Philippines' national minorities through a different approach: the straightforward gaze of the mechanically-captured image. Saulo is one of the few Filipina cultural workers who have braved forays into documentary photography and local research into the selected national minorities of the Philippines and the South East Asian region, a rarity of sorts nowadays.

Saulo's photographs of the Filipino Amerasians in the Central Luzon region and the Batak tribe of Palawan in the Southern Tagalog region, and the Mlabri ang Hmong tribes in Thailand are intimate portraits of a people pushed to the margins by colonial incursions. Despite the appalling degree of material and social disenfranchisement that Philippine national minorities are subjected to, Saulo manages to capture portraits of a people that do not evoke pity, but quiet dignity. There is an elegant ease, even a poignant beauty, in the way Saulo's images capture the stark bareness of her subject's lives, such as in the work Batak Girl (Sepia toned silver gelatine print, 2000) or Fisherfolks' Daughter (Selenium toned silver gelatine print, 2003). Other works such as Tagbanua Woman (sepia toned silver gelatine print, 2002) evoke the graceful weight of passing time.

On the other hand, photographer and Silver Lens Creative Director Isa Lorenzo chooses to capture images of still objects and scapes, using their formal qualities to transform familiar household scenes into unknown territories. February (lambda duratrans on lightbox) captures a fog-shrouded landscape from an unknown location, presumably taken at that time of the year. Lorenzo also infuses poetic allusions through the texts of her works' titles, seen in the photograph of a silver ball suspended on a ceiling entitled Kissing, Eyes Closed, or that of what seems to be a clear plastic cap suspended on a wall entitled In Sickness and In Health. The deliberate disjunction between the text and the image projected points to the need to see beyond the literal beauty of the image and uncover an entire narrative of contexts beneath.

Interestingly, Lorenzo's works are positioned in the most inconspicuous corners of the gallery, in places where one least expects to find a 'work of art'. This deliberate curatorial choice also conveys the message that art, whether it be through painting or photography, persists even in the margins of one's world. Lorenzo also makes effective use of the lightbox as a component of her photography display, using the medium to illuminate her images.

Other artistic genres represented in Walong Filipina include installation and functional art in the works of Isabel Aquilizan and Hannah Liongoren.

Aquilizan, an installation artist and theatre director who has usually worked in tandem with artist-husband Alfredo Aquilizan on various inter-disciplinary, collaborative and communal art projects, presents her individual works this time around. Aquilizan makes use of used blankets, seemingly mundane items that nevertheless comprise the various important rituals and phases of our lives, from womb to tomb, from the sacral to the carnal.

As an object signifying social relations and structures, these threadbare and patchwork-riddled blankets convey the spartan yet strong lives that millions of Filipinas live as a consequence of prevailing social realities. The blankets symbolize a tapestry of lives, worn and weary through the years, yet still held together through common threads and painstaking initiatives to heal and repair whatever rips or tears there are. ' Alagang Perla', for instance, may symbolically attest to how impoverished women nationwide are striving to care for their kin and children even with the barest essentials, such as the cheap pink detergent sold in bars all over the country. This is a reminder that gently settles upon the viewer just as the floral fragrance emanating from the installation wafts subtly throughout the gallery space.

Contemporary graphic art and functional pieces, meanwhile, converge in Hannah Liongoren's series of handmade notebook covers on canvas. Liongoren hails from an emerging generation of Filipina graphic artists and illustrators from the University of the Philippines College of Fine Arts. Her works combine contemporary graphic technology, popular culture, and biographical vignettes, seen in the elements of works such as Lola Ada, Cut, and Fhaggi.

All in all, the multitude of Muses paid homage to in this year's Walong Filipina spans an entire range of art disciplines, subjects, and inclinations. As such, the deities of the arts, wherever they may be, must indeed be pleased. ###

adik!

-

Your Personality Is Like Acid

A bit wacky, you're very difficult to predict.
One moment you're in your own little happy universe...
And the next, you're on a bad trip to your own personal hell!