The P90,000 Kaning Tutong Wins

Art Fair Philippines 2020

Burnt rice isn't what you'd typically expect to see at a premier art exhibition like Art Fair
Philippines. But that's exactly what Visayan media artist Manny Montelibano is showcasing
for art gallery 1335Mabini's exhibition space.

The piece, "Dukot Survival," is priced at P90,000, and it comes with the glass it's encased in.
The kaning tutong features small plastic human figures, and is a metaphor for the future of
our society.

If you want a more detailed explanation, just read what 1335Mabini has to say about the
piece: "'Dukot Survival' is an installation work composed on preserved burnt rice with small
plastic human figures inserted between the grains and five multi-colored vitrines. 'Dukot' is a
Hiligaynon word referring to overcooked rice that takes its form from the used pot."

"'Dukot' is presented as an artifact of the upcoming past, the forthcoming old society. As
humanity strives toward a more balanced world, civilizations leave behind evidence of how
people live. This is a reflection of how people evolve by adapting to the demands of society. It
also reflects the disappearance of a society, the fading values, and the vanishing traditions,
which can also result in modern evolutionary synthesis."

For what its worth, the artist took measures to preserve the rice so you can have it displayed
for years to come.
-How do art institutions complicate notions of appropriation and value-assignment?

How will you evaluate the artwork given its context and circulation?
Bonifacio flag sold for P9.3M

Despite a last-minute appeal from the National Historical Commission of the Philippines (NHCP) to
stop Saturday’s auction, the “personal flag” of Katipunan founder and revolutionary Andres
Bonifacio, sewn by his wife, Gregoria de Jesus, was sold by Leon Gallery for P9.3 million.
The final bid for the relic was more than nine times the floor price of P1 million.

The flag had been gifted by Bonifacio’s widow herself to Antonio Santos Bautista of Malolos,
Bulacan province, on the occasion of the 33rd anniversary of the Malolos Congress in 1931.
It was passed on to Bautista’s descendant Dez Bautista, a leading Malolos designer, scholar and
heritage conservationist.

The sale pushed through despite NHCP’s “appeal” because the flag and other historical documents
and relics on auction were “privately owned” and “we have an obligation to the consignors,” said
Leon Gallery director Jaime Ponce de Leon.

Ponce de Leon added that the wide interest generated by the sale indicated renewed appreciation by
Filipinos of their history that should be encouraged.
“I am privileged to say that the great public interest—and the high prices—in the Leon Gallery
historical auctions have brought so many of these fantastic documents and objects out at last from the
closed doors and bank vaults of a few collectors.”
Leon Gallery declared the auction “a triumph of Philippine history.”

Decalogue, Bonifacio photo

Other historical relics associated with Bonifacio and the secret movement he founded that led the
Philippine Revolution of 1896 likewise triggered fierce bidding and fetched high prices.
A handwritten Decalogue or 10 Commandments that could have been penned by Bonifacio himself,
along with his only extant photograph, showing him on his wedding day, was sold for P2.7 million.

Katipunan membership documents were sold for P818,000 while a very rare brass medallion worn by
members of the Katipunan supreme council was sold for P876,000.

All of the Katipunan documents and paraphernalia came from the collection of historian Epifanio de
los Santos, after whom the Edsa highway is named.

Letters, visual arts

Epaulets and other military heraldry designed by the Luna brothers Antonio and Juan for the
Philippine revolutionary forces fighting the American invaders were sold as a lot for P5.1 million.

A letter by Jose Rizal to a Scottish trader in Manila in the 1880s fetched P1.4 million while a letter by
Josephine Bracken to Emilio Aguinaldo got P1.05 million.
The final bids in the main section of the auction on the visual arts were even more fabulous.
The huge “Nose Flute,” said to be the last “epic painting” by muralist and National Artist Carlos
“Botong” Francisco, was sold for P63 million, more than double the floor price of P28 million.

Pioneering modernist and abstractionist Fernando Zobel’s “Saeta 52 or Pared Madrileña” was sold for
P32 million, while National Artist Jose Joya’s “Carnival” was sold for P25.7 million.
Ponce de Leon defended the auction as he disclosed that Leon Gallery had received “letters” from the
NHCP “appealing to stop the sale of the historical documents.”
“But we also have an obligation to the consignors as they are all privately owned property hence we
decided to push through with the sale,” he explained.

In March, Leon Gallery had also auctioned off four important letters of Bonifacio related to the
controversial Tejeros Convention in Cavite of 1896 that signaled a deadly rift in the revolutionary
movement and led to his killing by supporters of Emilio Aguinaldo.

Counterproductive
Government moves to stop auctions of historical documents are counterproductive, according to
Ponce de Leon.

He said collectors would not come out and important documents and relics of history would not be
seen by the public.
“I believe that the auctions and especially the prices achieved have encouraged collectors to bring out
numerous historical surprises that even historians are amazed to realize their existence,” he said. “It
also brings about more documentary evidence and information on our history.”
“There are numerous letters and documents that complete the missing puzzles in what we know of our
past,” he added.
“If we curtail this or put fear on would-be consignors in bringing forth what they have, then it will just
prevent us from seeing more of our history.”
Ponce de Leon said historian and Inquirer columnist Ambeth Ocampo, himself a former chair of the
NHCP, had said that government did not need the original documents, “but the facsimile copies
should suffice.”
Another Inquirer columnist, Antonio Montalvan II, a former head of the museums committee of the
National Commission for Culture and the Arts, had also said historical documents were better off in
private hands.
“In fact, these private collectors had made the letters available to researchers for free and precisely
had been previously published because of such munificence by (their) private owners,” he said. “The
law does not prohibit private ownership.”

Montalvan and Ocampo pointed out that Leon Gallery had published the documents to be auctioned in
its catalogues that would be available to the public.
“Conservation is not a monopoly capacity of public cultural agencies,” Montalvan said. “Several
topnotch private cultural institutions like the UST Archives, which keeps the ancient ‘baybayin’
syllabary that has been declared a National Cultural Treasure by the National Archives of the
Philippines, are better equipped at conservation work.”
Ponce de Leon agreed. “Let the originals be with private collectors who could probably be better
custodians of these things and who will employ utmost conservation on them.”

Renewed appreciation
Montalvan pointed out that the Leon Gallery auctions had stimulated debates about Philippine history.
“The auction has sparked new discussions if Bonifacio is our first president,” he said. “Let debates
arouse pedagogy. By sensitizing public interest alone, the auction has shown the way at dealing with
historical treasures.”

Ponce de Leon said the historical documents had resulted in renewed appreciation of Philippine
history.
“Now the general public has the chance to see them, learn about the secrets and behind-the-scenes
stories,” he said. “Without these auctions, these memorabilia would be hidden away.”

-How do institutions affect the narrative of nation-building?

-How is the act of auctioning the Bonifacio flag a possible counter-text to the master narratives on the
myths of a nation?

-How does this touch upon the issues on national artists, award-giving bodies, and other gestures that
tend to institutionalize art objects to sustain the narratives of the nation?

Leeroy New’s untitled installation (2014)

-How does Andang Juan’s critique on New’s installation surface the critical role of an artist’s subject position
vis-a-vis the work’s context and circulation?

-Should there be limits on the subject matter to be explored by an artist? Why or why not? How will you
evaluate the statement of the Concerned Artists of the Philippines in defense of New and Juan Andang’s
essays?

Angelo Suarez & Costantino Zicarelli‟s

Criticism Is Hard Work (2007)
-Is the work able to fulfill its objectives in consideration of the institutional context and the subjects used in
the performance? Why or why not?

-How does the contrast of the subjects, and the artists and institution complicate the nature of the work?
Gordian Knot (a series of notes) •
Lyra Garcellano

To begin with history: The 1884 Exposicion Nacional de Bellas Artes in Madrid, where
Filipino expatriates gathered in celebration for the victory of two compatriots, Juan Luna
who won the gold medal for his work Spoliarium, and Felix Resurreccion Hidalgo who
won silver for the painting Las Virgenes Cristianas Expuestas al Populacho. It was
considered the apex of Philippine Art, a triumph not only for the artists but also for the
country. Finally, “equal” racial footing was deemed attained with the colonizers.

Centuries after, this aim for Western recognition remains: gatekeepers and institutions,
whose backgrounds and practices carry the same anxieties and ways of compensation,
dictate the standards of validation. Culture as pronounced by the state and an
ambivalent arts education carry the baggage of still being secondary to the international.
Practice-wise, a different level of legitimacy is received when an artist is able to conform
to global awards and exchanges. The very process of immigration vetting involves
having to repeatedly prove oneself through literal political borders—- another structural
imposition that controls the movement of cultural practitioners. Even the notion of
mapping and positioning Southeast Asian art, a geopolitical currency and capital coined
by the West and utilized by most artists today, is a manner of categorization that fuels
the hierarchy.

Legend has it that whoever is able to untie the Gordian knot will become the ruler of
Asia. In continuation of Lyra Garcellano’s research, as seen in her previous exhibitions
Double Consciousness and Dear Artist…, the artist continues to be the pin in the middle
and at the same time the one venturing to release the impossible tangle, where pulling
on either ends only fastens it further. Attempts to loosen this have been numerous, with
the knot staring blankly on whoever tries. The arbitration presented is open-ended: the
loophole has not been found nor has the tie been cut.

Lyra Garcellano, Amorsolo and the ‘Spectre of Comparison’

 Lyra Garcellano’s statement allows us to reconsider our aspirations for Western
recognition — how one might say that they’ve ‘made it’ only if they’ve ‘made it in New York.’
MANILA, Philippines — Lyra Garcellano works at the intersection of the abstract and the concrete.
This Art Fair Philippines, Garcellano’s “Tropical Loop” throws questions to viewers talking of our
history and representation.

Lyra Garcellano was born in 1972. Primarily a visual artist, she works with installation and paintings
and often unpacks notions of identity and displacement in her works. Currently, she is finishing her
graduate studies in Art Theory in the University of the Philippines. Garcellano’s artistic practice
involves a lot of research. Information is integral in her works. From library visits to browsing through
the news, she has been collecting information throughout years of her artistic practice, only deciding
to unpack them once the time and space is right.

“Tropical Loop” is an extension of a previous project. Alongside a re-installation of a neon signage,

Garcellano will also be showing two new videos for this project. This year, Garcellano’s work
discusses the nuances in representation and identity.

This show reflects on Fernando Amorsolo and his work. That while Amorsolo is an important and well-
known name in Philippine visual arts, it is equally important to consider what kind of nation Amorsolo
was proliferating by virtue of his idyllic paintings of the countryside. We are all-too familiar with it: the
rice paddies, the smiling women, the farmers tilling the land — Garcellano highlights the absurdity of
this image that continues to be reinforced and understood by the West to be true.

Garcellano moreover reflects on the West’s presence in Southeast Asia as Amorsolo painted these
idealistic expressions of the tropics. How might have these people been persuaded to come to our
shores, aside from believing that it was their destiny to move past their territorial landscape?

While these questions are not new, they are neither outdated nor thought about enough. The more we
reflect on it, the more we can observe the push and pull of Western-centric ideologies. Garcellano is
able to bring these concerns to the forefront, somewhat shaking us all off of a trance of passive
acceptance. As for me, “Tropical Loop” pulls me into thinking about the West’s presence in ASEAN
Summits and the creation of the Southeast Asia Treaty Organization in 1954 in cooperation with the
West to combat communism.

Garcellano also poses the viewer with the statement, “Southeast Asian Artist: To be or not to be,” and
allows us to reconsider our aspirations for Western recognition — how one might say that they’ve
“made it” only if they’ve “made it in New York.” How best can we tell our stories even if our education
has been both blurred and shaped by Western-facing ideas of success?

“Spectre of comparison” was first used by Jose Rizal in his book, Noli Me Tangere, where he
describes that he is reminded of Europe while looking at Philippine gardens. Garcellano similarly talks
of the same sentiment in “Tropical Loop”: we currently and will always see persistent remnants of our
colonial past in our present, not only in the Philippines, but in the whole of Southeast Asia.

“Tropical Loop” is a concise take on geopolitical concerns and issues. This Art Fair Philippines,
Garcellano’s work not only gives us something to be visually arrested by, but something to reflect on
for ourselves for days to come.

-How is Garcellano’s exhibition a critique on Luna’s Spoliarium and Hidalgo’s Las Virgenes Cristianas
Expuestas al Populacho?

-How does the label “Southeast Asian artist” reaffirm Western modes of art production and circulation?
 Insertions into Ideological Circuits:
Coca-Cola Project

Meireles conceived his two Insertions into Ideological Circuits projects for an exhibition of
conceptual art held at The Museum of Modern Art, New York in 1970 entitled Information.

The Coca-Cola Project and the Cédula or Banknote Project (see Tate T12512-38) explore the
notion of circulation and exchange of goods, wealth and information as manifestations of the
dominant ideology. For the Coca-Cola Project Meireles removed Coca-Cola bottles from normal
circulation and modified them by adding critical political statements, or instructions for turning the
bottle into a Molotov cocktail, before returning them to the circuit of exchange. On the bottles, such
messages as ‘Yankees Go Home’ are followed by the work’s title and the artist’s statement of
purpose: ‘To register informations and critical opinions on bottles and return them to circulation’.
The Coca-Cola bottle is an everyday object of mass circulation; in 1970 in Brazil it was a symbol of
US imperialism and it has become, globally, a symbol of capitalist consumerism. As the bottle
progressively empties of dark brown liquid, the statement printed in white letters on a transparent
label adhering to its side becomes increasingly invisible, only to reappear when the bottle is refilled
for recirculation. The Currency Project followed a similar structure, with texts containing information
and critical messages being stamped onto banknotes that were then returned to circulation. In both
projects, the messages are in a mixture of English and Portuguese. Meireles has commented:

The Insertions into Ideological Circuits arose out of the need to create a system for the circulation
and exchange of information that did not depend on any kind of centralized control. This would be a
form of language, a system essentially opposed to the media of press, radio and television – typical
examples of media that actually reach an enormous audience, but in the circulation systems of
which there is always a degree of control and channelling of the information inserted ... The way I
conceived it, the Insertions would only exist to the extent that they ceased to be the work of just one
person. The work only exists to the extent that other people participate in it. What also arises is the
need for anonymity. By extension, the question of anonymity involves the question of ownership.
When the object of art becomes a practice, it becomes something over which you can have no
control or ownership.

(Quoted in Cameron, pp.110-12.)

In 1970, when Meireles produced the Insertions into Ideological Circuits projects, Brazil was
undergoing the most oppressive period of its twenty-one year government by military dictatorship.
At the time, the Insertions constituted a form of guerrilla tactics of political resistance in order to
elude the strict state censorship enforced by the regime. Commentary stamped onto banknotes in
the Banknote Project included references to a journalist who had died in police custody under
suspicious circumstances and calls for proper, free elections. For Meireles, the texts on circulating
bottles and banknotes ‘functioned as a kind of mobile grafitti’ (quoted in Cameron, p.13). The three
bottles presented to Tate by the artist are relics or symbols of the work which, for Meireles, is only
operating when the bottles are actually in circulation. Their display – standing in a line of three, one
full, one half full and one empty – mimics their earliest appearance as a photograph that
demonstrates the process of consumption through which the artist’s message disappears before
returning to visibility when the bottle is refilled. The Coca-Cola Project has never been sold because
the idea is that people may stick labels with messages on bottles and themselves send out views or
commentary into wider circulation. In order to function, the work depends on a system of deposit, in
which empty bottles are returned for recycling.

Meireles belongs to a generation of Brazilian artists who fuse conceptual thinking with a
multisensorial approach that prioritises the body. Labelled Neo-Concretism, the movement was
founded in the late 1950s by Lygia Clark (1920-88) and Lydia Pape (1929-2004) and extended in
the 1960s to include Hélio Oiticica (1937-80). In his objects and installations, Meireles uses a range
of strategies to engage the viewer as a participant in the work. The Insertions into Ideological
Circuits projects go beyond the viewer in the gallery or museum, and extend to a wider public who
may be unaware of their contact with art.

-Why is the circulation of Meireles’ works inextricable from their contexts?

-How do the works (Coca-Cola Project and Banknote Project) subvert dominant ideologies and the
mechanisms of control and circulation?
 Literary ‘war’ over Adam
David poetry project
Weeks after writer Adam David removed his appropriative work It will be the same/but not quite the
same from public access online, local literary writers have stuck to their guns and continued spewing
fire against each other in the name of literary freedom.

David received a letter from intellectual property lawyers dated April 13, 2015, forcing him to take
down within 5 days the sites on Mediafire and Blogspot where he uploaded his appropriative work.

The demand letter was written on behalf of Noelle Q. de Jesus, Mookie Katigbak-Lacuesta, and Anvil
Publishing, as joint copyright owners of the micro fiction anthology Fast Food Fiction Delivery
Volume 2, from which David took portions for his hypertext found poetry project.

David was accused of four grounds of copyright infringement based on reproduction right, other
communication to the public of the work, publisher’s right, and moral rights. He was also threatened
with a fine of P150,000 and imprisonment of one to three years for each count if he did not comply.

On April 19, David took down the downloadable file from both sites. He retained the blog account and
posted a rationale of his project explaining that his work of literary criticism “is a part of what aims to
be a multimedia critical response” to the anthology, the first part of which is the micro
review "Nutrition Facts: Always Look at the Label."

In his blog, David explained how he made the project. “I went through the anthology and copied four
sentences per story – specifically the first and last sentences, and two random sentences somewhere
in between. Sometimes a sentence would have five words, sometimes ten,” David explained. “Some
sentences were around fifty words long, and a few were made up of a single word. I typed them all out
in four rows and encoded a hypertext machine in Javascript to generate random combinations of what
amounted to roughly two hundred and seventy two sentences, which I predicted would come up with
new stories expressing coherence despite their disparate origins,” he said.

The incident has since received mixed reactions from the literary community, some dubbing it a David
and Goliath situation.

On April 18, a massive campaign was started on Facebook to gather support for David. Marc Anthony
Cayanan posted the collective statement “Order in the Food Court” the same day asserting, “David’s
work, accessible through Mediafire and Blogspot, is consistent with the trajectory of his writing, which
—from The El Bimbo Variations to Than Then Than—has questioned notions of originality and
displayed an impertinent stance to literary tradition and an aggressive repurposing of source texts,
often to humorous yet critical effect.” It was signed by writers from various literary cliques and genres.

Writers including Karl de Mesa and Adrian Dollente Mendizabal cited Section 185 of Republic Act
10372, which stipulates:

“SEC. 185. Fair Use of a Copyrighted Work. – 185.1. The fair use of a copyrighted work for criticism,
comment, news reporting, teaching including limited number of copies for classroom use, scholarship,
research, and similar purposes is not an infringement of copyright. Decompilation, which is
understood here to be the reproduction of the code and translation of the forms of a computer
program to achieve the interoperability of an independently created computer program with other
programs may also constitute fair use under the criteria established by this section, to the extent that
such decompilation is done for the purpose of obtaining the information necessary to achieve such
interoperability.”

Philippines Graphic editor-in-chief Joel Pablo Salud, in his piece "National Literary Month just caught
fire", traced the issue back to March 16, 2014, when “poet Mookie Katigbak-Lacuesta posted a call for
submission on Facebook. Fast Food Fiction Delivery Volume 2: an anthology of micro-fiction. Mookie
described it as ‘the encore to Noelle de Jesus’ well-received Fast Food Fiction.’ Mookie was to be its
co-editor. On that very same day, Adam David shared over his Facebook account the call for
submissions with this post: ‘Will probably be just as full of empty calories as real fast food.’”

Salud stretched the issue further back, saying, “If memory serves, writer Sarge Lacuesta (husband to
Mookie) posted a comment in answer to Adam David’s post. This prompted other writers to take up
the issue, asking why Adam David—a literary critic—would go out of his way to harangue a book
project at the onset of its production. Stories have yet to be submitted at the time, and as a literary
critic, no one is stopping him from criticizing the book after it sees publication. Thus, David’s pot-shot
at the project prior to reaching its final form, many believed, reeked of malice.”

He also said that “in the digital book’s third page, Adam David claimed it as his own copyrighted
material for 2015.”

Also airing their side were contributors to the anthology, such as Butch Dalisay, whose work was
mentioned in the demand letter as an example. Sarge Lacuesta posted Dalisay’s reaction on his
Facebook account on April 21.

Dalisay said the issue was no big deal to him, mentioning a similar work by Angelo Suarez. But he also
made it clear that Anvil and the anthology editors have the right to sue Adam for copyright
infringement.

Writer Gina Apostol, in her recent blog entry In all conscience, I thought I’d comment, in her attempt
to shed light on the matter, said, “There may be valid legal reasons behind Anvil’s action. But just
because one can sue does not mean one should.” — BM, GMA News

Nutrition Facts: Always Look at the Label - a

microreview of Anvil Publishing's FAST FOOD FICTION
DELIVERY edited by Noelle Q. De Jesus and Mookie
Katigbak-Lacuesta
In the art of anthology-making, textual framing is key. It discloses the editor's
method and intentions for the pieces chosen to be exhibited, how and why they
are exhibited and exhibited together. And among all the various and sundry ways
of framing an anthology - introduction, preface, marginalia, annotations - the title
is almost always the most obvious key of all.

When you see a book called THE LIKHAAN JOURNAL 2014, you know it's going to
contain what editors from UP think are worthy of inclusion for the year 2014, with
all the baggage that that inclusion comes; even the use of the word "Likhaan"
implies a nativist frame, maybe a nation-building thrust to the anthologising,
implying that the pieces included are all "Filipino." When you see a book called
PHILIPPINE SPECULATIVE FICTION 5, you know it's going to contain specfic
stories written by Filipinos and that there were four of these books already
published prior to this particular volume; and the inclusion of the word
"Philippine" does not only denote geographical or national boundaries within
which the stories were written, but it is also a holistic statement saying "This is
how Filipinos engage with the international genre that has called itself
‘Speculative Fiction.’"

So how does one read the decision to frame an anthology of contemporary

English-language short fiction in the Philippines with the title FAST FOOD FICTION
DELIVERY?

What is fast food? It is mass-produced food meant to be produced and consumed

cheaply and quickly, typically chockfull of carcinogens and empty calories; it
leads to cancer, diabetes, obesity; is packaged in non-biodegradable containers;
the most famous of its franchises is among the top three leading causes of global
warming; hallmarks of this industry's service are the option to consume even
more of its product for an even cheaper price, to have the product delivered
straight to your door in twenty minutes or less else you'll get the food for free but
with the delivery boy paying for it from his paycheque. To describe it as an
industry founded on excess and exploitation is merely to state factual
information.

At this point in time, with all the chatter on sustainability, slow cooking, organic,
antiGMO, even artisanal and "project" food, even with the ongoing glamourisation
of healthy living, the decision to call the antho "Fast Food Fiction Delivery" comes
across as a little weird. It implies uncritical, borderline irresponsible thinking, out
of touch with the real world where SUPER SIZE ME the movie was premiered
eleven years ago. Maybe the antho that they plan to do next is called SIX PACKS
OF CIGARETTES A DAY POETRY?

But I suppose readers can glean from the antho's contents that the editors
intended to use "fast food" as a "cool/trendy" metaphor to describe the quick,
maybe even disposable, nature of short-form/flash fiction, purely ignoring all the
ideas encoded in the combination of those two words. Funny how the editors -
themselves highly-respected writers - seemingly missed out on the value of words
and their meaning. Nothing screams "lazy curatorial work" as much as deciding to
name your short-form fiction anthology after a mode of food production and
consumption that is problematic, to say the least, just because it was
"cool/trendy."

Unless the intention is to frame contemporary English-language short fiction in

the Philippines as mass-produced art meant to be produced and consumed
cheaply and quickly; poisonous in content, leads to awful fatal diseases;
depleting and wasteful; a lasting, ruinous monument to colonialism and
capitalism? If we are to assume that the editors in fact did their curatorial jobs
well, were not superficial with their editorial decisions, in fact made very
deliberate and measured intelligent choices with the naming thus the framing of
the anthology, this seems to be the only rational explanation.

-How does the lawsuit against David touch upon issues on copyright, established publishing houses,
appropriation, and independent publishing?