For the first time, awarding ceremonies for the new national artists last Oct. 24 in Malacañang were held along with those for the Gawad Manlilikha ng Bayan (Gamaba).
While the Order of National Artists (ONA) is the highest state honor given to Philippine practitioners of the classical western arts, Gamaba is conferred on practitioners of traditional arts who mostly come from the indigenous cultural communities. The latter are otherwise called “national folk artists.”
Thus, for the first time, standing side by side with the new national artists — Francisco Mañosa (architecture), Kidlat Tahimik (cinema), Ryan Cayabyab (music), Resil Mojares (literature), Amelia Lapeña Bonifacio (theater), and representatives of posthumous awardees Larry Alcala (visual arts) and Ramon Muzones (literature) — were the new national folk artists — B’laan mat weaver Estelita Bantilan from Malungon, Sarangani; Yakan weaver Ambalang Ausalin from Lamitan, Basilan; and B’laan ikat-weaver Yabing Dulo from Polomolok, South Cotabato.
The joint conferment ceremonies were significant, because they signaled the leveling of the two otherwise disparate art practices that, for want of a better analogy, would be the Philippine version of “stiltrennung,” the staple “segregation of styles” from the Western world’s Hellenic heritage, as when Aristotle in “Poetics” classifies drama into tragedy and comedy, the former dealing with “spoudaia” or “serious matters,” the latter with “phaulika” or “trivial matters”; in short, the wide divide between the high and the low. Guess which between ONA and Gamaba is supposedly inferior?
Because of the Philippines’ Latin-European patrimony, creativity and genius are ascribed to practitioners of the classical arts. The West’s modern exaltation of “bellas artes” or the “fine arts” further relegated the “practical arts” to peon position. Aestheticism and art for art’s sake mean any hint of utility is perceived to rob art of its nobility and purity.
Combined with colonialism, this low view of the practical arts has been applied to Philippine traditional arts, especially the crafts of the cultural communities.
This is unfortunate, since traditional arts don’t dichotomize between beauty and utility. Art and beauty could be found in traditional practices, which span folk architecture, maritime transport, weaving, carving, performing arts, literature, graphic and plastic arts, ornament, textile and fiber art, pottery, and other artistic expressions of folk culture. Traditional arts are more holistic, more organic.
To their credit, the new national artists have drawn from the traditional arts.
Mañosa is the father of modern vernacular architecture, having incorporated Philippine materials and design motifs in built space, as illustrated in his creations such as the Coconut Palace, the San Miguel Corp. Building and the Edsa Shrine.
Classically trained, Cayabyab has become a pillar of OPM (Original Pilipino Music) and composed prodigiously for musical theater, cinema, and other popular culture forms.
Alcala combined graphic skills and folk humor in his widely popular cartoons.
Bonifacio incorporated Southeast Asian and Japanese theater traditions into her dramatic productions.
The awards for Mojares and Muzones signal the refocusing of national literature from the imperial center — Manila and literature in English or Tagalog — to the regions.
Muzones used Hiligaynon in his 61 novels that were serialized in regional magazines and avidly read by thousands. His last major work was a historical novel on the arrival of the 10 Bornean datus in Panay.
Mojares started as an award-winning fictionist in English in the 1960s but went on to become a scholar on Cebu literature, history and culture.
So renowned is his scholarship that, last July, Kyoto University of Japan organized the conference, “Bridging Worlds, Illumining the Archive: An International Conference in Honor of Professor Resil B. Mojares.”
Kidlat Tahimik used to be Eric de Guia, a Wharton graduate set for a bright career in western high finance. But Baguio-born and -raised, he rediscovered his Cordillera roots and chucked suit and tie for Ifugao “bahag” and gong; he expanded a “home movie” that became “Mababangong Bangungot (Perfumed Nightmare),” the first Philippine movie to be accepted for competition to the Berlin Film Festival, where it won the Critics’ Prize.
When Kidlat went to the Malacañang ceremonies last Wednesday, he came as expected in loincloth and colorful Ifugao costume, and ushers mistook him for one of the Gamaba awardees. He was very pleased with the mistake.