CURRENT SHOW
SM Art Center, SM Megamall

Vantage

March 14 to 27, 2007

Delotavo on the other hand, brings forth a characteristically more linearly realist suite of works, once again affirming his distaste for clichéd, hysterical critique yet punching up visual jabs just as sharply, if not more so. For his central work, Diaspora, Delotavo worked from thousands of photographs he'd snapped at the NAIA departure area, mounting his pared down ground with painted renderings of Filipinos leaving RP turf with their earthly belongings, backs turned and suggesting some subtle degree of resignation. Ruiz cites how Diaspora harps on a facelessness coupled with particularities of dress and double-entendre baggage. A recent conversation with Delotavo yields his own avowed status as artworld outsider despite an already quarter of a century old practice; it is a psychological anachronism further enfleshed by the artist's seemingly schizophrenic stance, where he palpably holds disdain for art's panderers while still using them as curious measuring sticks for his own artistry. Similarly, it appears almost immediately instructive how he takes from his own biography (as in his mother's dressmaking trade) and weaves this into a personal fascination with ukiyo-e for the work UK Couture, a piece through which he ingeniously extends discourse to such advocacy top-billers as globalization with respect to thrown-out Salvation Army merchandise. In Retroaktib, Delotavo invokes visual references to the Fat Man nuke bomb set off in WWII, here juxtaposed alongside other dated technology, in a visual implication of countries brazenly talking up embargoes against countries like Korea even when the arms race was pretty much instigated in their own backyards. Two other works, Sa Dakong Ibayo and Bungkal illustrate how Delotavo's facile invocation of architectural structure and mechanization effectively allow him to touch on themes of natural and human-induced havoc with recombinant semiotic taxonomies that alienate and distance through tropes of place, excavation, and demolition.

Rounding out 3Anggulo's triple showing is Habulan whose art practice Ruiz describes with a quip about how the artist "buli's" (pilipino for polish, as in jewelry) his medium. This obsessiveness turns up tellingly enough in Pulitika ng Lamang Loob, Laman, Loob at Diwa, wherein Habulan moves back into painting and away from his fairly recent incursion into objects trouvés, explaining how this specific creative process called for photographing on site and rendering 'awkwardness' rather than studio-perfect poses. Habulan has avidly drawn metaphoric juice from the perya staple, karambola, employing it as discursive hinge for making sense of constantly changing power realignments, yet firmly affirming calculated personal faith in an ultimate chance utopia-where just order triumphs in the end. In stark contrast to Delotavo's more calculated laying upon of form upon form, Habulan takes a more organic approach to juxtaposition, the irony of which is that process yields to an ultimately mannered composition nonetheless. Color is another key in the artist's toolbox as he adamantly differentiates those who hazard engagement and pay the price for it with their bodily lives. In Pulitika ng Lamang Loob, heroism is literally, fully rendered chromatically, while indifference or self-absorption is relegated to atonal grays. Parallel to Baen Santos' spirituality-laced strain of social realism, Habulan leaves the assumed assailant or perpetrator ubiquitously off-frame. In this schema, Habulan's imagining of critical engagement bodes transcendence, a type of gritty living though coming from seemingly disassociated trajectories-thus he alludes to quiet though undiminished triumph in his stark portrait of his parents. Here, in Magkaangkas Habulan demonstrates how things do indeed fall into place. In two other pieces that also deal head-on with restrained despair, the artist openly cultivates a measured emotionalism. In the Pamumukadkad series as he pits terracotta/anagama vis-a-vis wax grounds, Habulan invokes a primaily muted palette, deepening appeal to sentiment through body posture, facial grimace, as well as etched text (attempting to summon associations with the Biblical writing on the wall).

In obvious foil to popular conception, Baen Santos wisecracks: 'there are no hardliners among us', going on to reminisce how even in the 70s, their bunch of young raunchy artists, had predictably been regarded as renegades within the tight circles of the left. Quite contrary to the notion that these artists readily surrender aesthetics to didactics in the kind of work they do, it becomes palpable that even among the three, there is an openly shared reassertion of concern for the potency of form. Baen Santos for one, talks about a seminal work's not being a 'legitimate' painting, this despite Ruiz' pointing out the artist's metaphoric rendering of raw, unclosed forms is key to evoking unfinished battles amidst very able demonstrations of painterliness. Perhaps in unconscious defiance of the homogenizing tactics of the market and those not privy to their art practices, the diversity in temperaments among these artists proves genuinely humanizing. Baen Santos' less though not unstructured working up of his canvases after doing field photography at the barricades of Hacienda Luisita in 2004, suggests the irony of being pigeonholed as staunch realist even when he quite liberally works from posed photographs to thresh out problems of figuration. Delotavo deliberately conjures an agitational studio environment by bombarding himself with AM radio as he paints. Habulan's hypnotic dalliance with his #1 (painstakingly slow and virtually reed-thin) brush is often the butt of healthy ribbing among the three friends. Baen Santos is just at home with talking about Western art influences as Delotavo is with softening brillo and imposed minimalism. The latter, in a recent interview, christened himself the 'greedy portraitist', accounting for a juvenile ability to exercise a 'perverted sense of power' over classmates regaled by his ability to render x-rated figuration. Habulan avidly speaks of experimentation with various media, harping on ceramics as only one in a broad menu of materials he playfully draws from as he relishes the tactility accomplished in the act of etching, and how trajectories of material converge in imagined creative logic.

There are of course many confluences. Apart from tracing their friendships to the seminal Kaisahan and the hardy days of SR, all three take to crafting practically fully rendered and close to maniacally accomplished studies before imposing form on the final canvas. In the midst of activist grit, professional chumminess and rough bantering come seasoned with familial affinities and shared milestones, all essential buffers to the anesthetizing stats and replayed themes that confront art that refuses to live in the comfy recesses of interior-decorated living rooms and fluffy cocktail sets.

And so the making of art, and owning up goes on, even as the circus whiffs through and hopes to leave us mutely enthralled in its wake.