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‘DRATS!” I muttered. I got to the press conference and
preview of the 100 Nudes, 100 Years exhibit and
book project of the University of the Philippines (UP),
marking the institution’s centennial, dry enough after
braving the showers of late May armed with a golf
umbrella. Unfortunately, I arrived rather late. “You
mean I missed the on-the-spot drawing sessions with nude
models and...oh, yes, the famous artists?” I asked
Marty Paz, who was manning the reception at that time.
“Yup, just go in. The drawings are still there.” Marty
handed me a thick press kit and shooed me toward the
entrance.
“Foiled
again!” I said to myself. My timing is, as always,
great. No...I blame my graduate class in Philippine Arts
for starting and ending late. That’s it. Not my fault at
all. I entered the hall of the Mandarin Suites at
Gateway Mall and saw people milling around, chatting and
eating. I have indeed missed the action. They were
already winding down. “But wait...what are those? Oh,
goodie, goodie. The drawings are still there!” I elbowed
my way through a bunch of photographers, donned my
“writer’s hat” and started to scribble notes. “This one
is not so bad. Hmmm...that is quite good. Oh, gracious
goodness, now, that’s great.” I joined the fray in the
“ooohs and aaahs” admiring various interpretations of
the human anatomy.
There is
no better way to celebrate the centennial of UP than to
put up an exhibit and a book project of 100 nudes by UP
artists, past and present, covering 100 years of
expression through the interpretation and transformation
of ideas regarding the human body. Like many, I entered
UP as a prude and I exited (take note, that means
graduated) a liberal, one devoted to the notion of a
free market of ideas and expression anchored on critical
thinking. Like many, I was confronted by the statue of
the Oblation, a work by no less than the late National
Artist Guillermo Tolentino. At first, I did not
understand how a naked man with outstretched arms could
symbolize the university of our collective affections.
Luckily, a political science professor shared an
interpretation. “It says...I have nothing. I only desire
knowledge. Fill me with knowledge!” From then on,
whenever I look at the Oblation, I am prodded to reflect
on my own pursuit of truth and knowledge, and, yes, of
beauty. (Plato’s aesthetic construction, not Imelda’s).
Now, that is what this nude man is all about. But then,
there are 99 other nudes and more than 99 other meanings
behind them in this year’s commemorative exhibit.
As a
national artist, Abdulmari Imao is perhaps the most
underrated. This is sad, for the man is a genius in his
field. He has done much to bring the sarimanok motif
into our national imagination, and he has brought
techniques in sculpture to new heights in this country.
Muscle Man (1955) shows his versatility in
technique and command of form. In this work, he
transformed painted plaster into an appearance of
polished stone worthy of Angkor, breathed life into it
through careful rendering of the sinewy flesh of a
virile man and made it more aesthetically proximate by
giving it “Malay” or decidedly Asian features, a
movement away from the Greek. In Nude (1975)
Imao experiments with elongation in a similar manner as
that of world-renowned sculptor Alberto Giacometti and
gets somewhat a different effect. Ancient Etruscan
bronze came to my mind when I viewed this piece in
welded brass.
If in
Imao’s work I see “Malay” (and this is a reading of a
particular piece, not his whole corpus of works), then
in Anastacio Caedo’s Malakas at Maganda (1975) I
see the “Creole” or the mestizo Filipino. It seems that
the couple of the Filipino genesis myth jointly stepped
out of the bamboo with Chinese and European features.
And, of course, there is nothing wrong with that at all.
Perhaps, if myths hold eternal truths, such as our
long-standing value for equality among men and women,
then art also embraces truth, or even other truths, such
as the truth of our diversity and inclusive character as
a people. I have seen this work at the Vargas Museum,
where it is laid out on a pedestal unprotected by glass.
Up close, one sees how Caedo has mastered the art of the
Greeks and Romans. Marble becomes supple as flesh and,
oddly, discoloration gives it the comfort of age.
In my
opinion, Tolentino, so far, is the only sculptor in this
country who could make concrete fly. I have seen works
of other Filipino sculptors in the same medium, but they
pale in comparison producing beautiful forms at rest,
unlike that of Tolentino—animated, as if possessed by
spirits or hosts of souls. As the Oblation, for obvious
reasons, cannot be transported to Gateway, the exhibit
features instead a delightful baby in his birthday
suit...yes, a nude, with his arms flexed as if showing
his biceps. This is a quintessential pose of babies in
cribs. Tolentino simply put it upright and extended its
verticality by letting it rest on a hand-shaped pedestal
that rests on an orthodox box-like pedestal. The result
is flight. (In my mind, this is the Oblation in its
infant stage, constantly reminding us of hope in the
future).
The
works of the father of Philippine abstract
expressionism, the late National Artist Jose Joya, are
also part of the exhibit. Joya’s return to figures and
nudes was prompted by unfounded talk that he could not
draw. So, from his impasto paintings and nonfigurative
scribbling, he came back to the human figure, and he
came back with a vengeance. I remember him saying in
his usual soft-spoken manner, “Nobody can tell me that I
do not know how to draw and nobody can tell me that I do
not know how to paint.” And then, as cruel fate would
often heap on artists, his works were criticized for
being “too beautiful.” Well, dear dean Joya, thanks for
beauty. Joya’s works featured in this exhibit are his
famous double nudes. One shows a seated nude woman
resting her head on the chest of a man who stands behind
her. Another is a very interesting double male nude
arrangement. In both drawings, Joya showed his forte in
executing clear lines with spare use of shading. He
mentioned in his book Joya by Joya how partnering
in posing can present certain challenges to models. As
one of his former models (no, not in the nude), I must
say that times have changed...so maybe, not anymore.
A beauty
similar to that of Joya can be seen in the work titled
Siyesta (2008) by Denes Dasco. I find this work
extremely captivating because very much like earlier
Joya drawings (and I hope Dasco will not mind too much
the comparison, alignment or affiliation), it suggests
rather than “heavily” portrays. In this work, a lone
figure of a woman is seen lying on her side away from
the viewer. We do not know if there is a wall facing her
or even a bed underneath her, but then this knowledge is
quite immaterial, for what matters here is the mood of
an afternoon nap, languorous in its temporary retreat
from the world. The haze of white strokes surrounding
and eventually concealing her naked body helps conjure
this ambiance. Although I prefer clear and precise lines
like those of Joya or Bencab, the temporariness of the
strokes in this composition in pastel works very well
with the overall theme of rest.
Suggestion is more apparent in the works of artists who
take on a more contemporary approach to the depiction of
nudes. Michael Cacnio, for instance, appears to imply
the theme of naked greed and brazen corruption of the
soul in I Want More (2008). In this piece, a fat
figure of a man sits on a high chair in gleeful laughter
with one hand raised, as if saying “So what?!” (And
that, of course, is creative interpretation bordering on
overreading). In Seed (2008) Sajid Imao manages
to portray what I can only read as husband, wife and
child in a womb in one standing piece made of bronze. In
Nude I and Nude II, both of 2008, the
grotesque shapes drawn by Jeff Dizon suggest the
existence of beauty in all things. I must say that
Dizon’s style grew on me the more I viewed his works.
And perhaps that is another suggestion—to keep an open
mind. And in another example of suggestion, Pete
Jimenez “sketched” the ins and outs of a woman in his
work wrought of recycled steel, Betty Boob
(2008). The head and the appendages are missing, but
the nude woman is still there. Doubtless, there are many
more artists and many more ideas to discover in this
celebration of 100 years of expression in the genre the
nude figure.
***The exhibit opens to the public from tomorrow up to
June 25 at the Mandarin Suites, fourth floor of Gateway
Mall. For inquiry: 920-6871, 920-6875, 920-6868. |
