ALTHOUGH there seems to be no theme to the 7th Annual Sculpture Review—an ongoing annual exhibit presented by Gallery Nine and on view at the Art Center of SM Megamall until October 4—no one can complain about the diversity of talent shown, no matter the lack of a distinct unity. But merely ignore some of the extraneous ingredients, and stick to the pieces that appeal—because the exhibit features hidden gems amid the diversity on display.

Curated by Rica Estrada, this year’s bumper crop presents no less than 45 artists, with some exhibiting more than two pieces, thereby cramming the Art Center to overcapacity. Hence, filling the limits of the space are works by Mulawin Abueva, National Artist Napoleon Abueva, Carlo Arranton, Ral Arrogante, Fred Baldemor, Wilson William Baldemor, Benjie Bisaya, Michael Cacnio, Anastacio Caedo, Florante Caedo, Frederick Caedo, Henri Cainglet, Roen Capule, Buddy Ching, Aba Dalena, Joe Datuin, Daniel de la Cruz, Danny Rayos del Sol, Noel El Farol and National Artist Abdul Mari Imao.

Also present are the works of Juan Sajid Imao, Maria Magdamit, Carlo Magno, Jordan Mendoza, Chris Murillo, Andre Odavar, Ramon Orlina, Carlito Ortega, Agi Pagkatipunan, Al Perez, Mervy Pueblo, Ton Raymundo, Rodel Rillera, Omi Reyes, Rene Robles, Jinggoy Salcedo, Lirio Salvador, Jonahmar Salvosa, Solomon Saprid, Susanito Sarnate, Manolo Sicat, Kelly Sonio, Adeo Sta. Juana, Claude Tayag and Ian Valladares.

Said lawyer Amy W. Loste, owner of Gallery Nine: “Already on its 7th year, the Annual Sculpture Review seeks to broaden the market for works by sculptors, and pushes the envelope toward three-dimensional art—so that the art-buying public would not be limited for options to merely paintings hung on a wall. There are so many possibilities in sculpture and we’ve just begun to scratch the surface.”

Thus, from among the works are a few choice pieces that stand out due to their singular originality, beauty, technique—or the artist’s contribution to Philippine art history.

Undoubtedly leading the pack in the latter regard, National Artist Napoleon Abueva presents a bronze rendition of an earlier sculpture done originally in wood.

Woman Figure is a stylized representation of the female form dissected into three diamond-like clusters placed atop another and crowned by Abueva’s fish-tail form, a recurring archetype also seen in his trophies and a sculpture celebrating the Ten Outstanding Young Men of the Philippines, and also recurring in the horizontal thrust of Abueva’s masterpiece, The Allegorical Harpoon.

Set in contrast to Abueva’s undulating and abstract patterning of form, Saprid’s Maria Clara whittles the ironical disjunct between its soft and female subject matter and its hard and jagged technique.

Although made popular by his Tikbalang series, Saprid found no ruse to discard his use of cutting torch to create the rough and coarse cutouts for his Maria Clara series.

While some are nearly indestructible, the smaller examples such as the one at the SM Art Center were made for indoor appreciation atop a pedestal, and must be handled with care.

This particular piece shows Saprid’s deft handling of the upper limbs which shift the female form around its central axis and creates the impression of contraposto.

Meanwhile, Raffy David’s Abattoir in fiberglass, epoxy resin and wood presents the ugly as beautiful and the corrupt as worthwhile—like a postmodernist joke in search of new hierarchies.

Let us be aware that an abattoir is a slaughterhouse. With his work, David creates a symbol of our deeper social malaise with his lovingly-modeled figure of undetermined sex. Is it a male or female? The rolling folds of flesh do not reveal its sexual organs which are hidden underneath its thighs. But of other things, we can be sure: Abattoir has a runny nose, its wig is made of skulls, it has dipped its hands in a white glue-like substance, and its feet is slowly being eaten up by the epoxy and resin pellets from which the whole farce is made.

Special mention must be made of the works of Rillera and Pagkatipunan. Rillera presents a mastery of working in wood, creating nail-free joints to layer his wooden pieces together with the spokes of wooden gears in between the layers. These gears act like perpetual machines between his patterned planks. He creates whimsical, almost toy-like motion thru the repetition of these elements that are inanimate, yet are made of the once-living bodies of trees, a sort of retrograde technology turned into a new art form.

In Anito, Pagkatipunan presents a chunk of slate which was chiseled to fit into a four-legged wooden display.

Pagkatipunan deliberately confounds the viewer to ask, how much of the material was edited to create the form as we see it presently? Is the chunk of slate a highly-edited version of its original form? He makes a dividing line between nature and art. Art is artifice, he seems to say. Therefore, he needs to mount the stone atop a four-legged wooden display. But in an age when materials are costly, what happens if the material is merely mounted and mediated? Does it constitute art?

These and a lot of other meditative questions come to fore at the 7th Annual Sculpture Review.