My sculptor

18 years ago, I was led to believe by a lot of people that I was not, but "Of course you are," she said to me when I told her I didn't think I was ready to handle such a project on my own. Even if I was, I told her, I didn't think the client would choose a 21-year old upstart to handle the launching of their new product line over several established production outfits led by established directors and producers. "Just do it, honey," she said. So with much anxiety, apprehension and self-doubt, but buoyed by her faith in me, I put together my proposal and submitted it to the client.

To cut a long story from long ago short, I did end up producing and directing that project. She was right, I could.

The scene would be repeated over and over again in the next 18 years that followed. Once while writing a play, I noticed how a couple of lines I've written for one character rhymed pretty well and had a rhythm to it, and how I wished I could compose music so I could turn that play into a musical. There she was again, "of course you can!" I did go to a few piano lessons when I was about eight or nine, but I never went beyond memorizing a couple of grade one pieces and didn't really go as far as being being able to read notes well. But with her prodding and encouragement, that musical opened at the Baguio Convention Center in 2003. I have written two musicals and several other songs since.

Once, a cousin of hers asked if she knew anyone who could paint some kind of a mural. She came home that day to tell me that she had volunteered me to do the painting. I had to tell her that this time, she really did go a bit too far - I didn't paint, couldn't draw and couldn't even read my own handwriting at times. "But you can compose images on stage," she said, "I'm sure you can do the same on a four by eight feet canvas." Still, even if I "compose" a visual artwork in my head, I didn't have the skills to paint it myself. "I'm sure you can," she said again without a trace of doubt in her voice. A few days later, the "painting" I finished hung on the wall of cafe along Session Road.

I met her when she was working in Manila for a marketing firm. We moved (moved back, for her) to Baguio the following year and since then, she has taken on so many roles in my life: my producer, my production manager, my actor, my counselor, adviser, motivator, and many, many more. None of the all the things I have done in the last nearly two decades, I am doing now, and have yet to accomplish in the future would have been and be possible if not for her.

She's the sculptor who shaped me into who I am. And I thank her very much.

She's the friend who tells me to go slow when I'm driving too fast, take a deep breath when I'm feeling low, sings silly love songs to me in bed, who never hesitates to allow me that last bite on her burger or last sip from her glass of wine, tells me to straighten my shirt collar and stand straight. She's the best friend I have ever had who never stopped believing in me. She's the girlfriend I love holding hands with while walking down Session Road with or lying beside while reading a book under a tree. She's the mother of all five of our children who would do everything to help them realize their full potential.

She's my wife, RL, and I would like to honor her today, her birthday, and let her know that I am very happy that I am taking this life journey with her - over hills or down valleys, as long as I am taking the walk while holding her hand, I know everything's going to be alright.

True story

There was this restaurant run by a group of friends. Once only a quaint, hole-in-the-wall affair, it slowly grew to become one of the city's most famous restaurants frequented by both locals and tourists. They didn't only serve food, they made sure that every plate that left their kitchen was a work of art. The owners worked hard to set their little cafe apart from the rest.

While they weren't exactly a bar that people go to to get drunk, one day the owners thought that it was time for the restaurant to offer alcoholic beverages beyond wine and beer. So they applied for a liquor license.

They had everything they needed to merit a liquor license. But if you think that having all the requirements that our government needs to grant the license is enough, then you're wrong.

The owners applied for the license and refused to bribe anyone to get it - it was common knowledge that it's how you get things done up there. They had all that's legally required to get one, and they've paid all the legal fees that need to be paid. So they refused to pay "grease money," "padulas," to get the license. And they waited.

One day they got their liquor license - eight years after they first applied for it. That's how long it takes if you follow the rules. That's how long you would have to wait for government to deliver what's due to you if you stay within the bounds of the law.

Really? Eight years? My son asked. Does it really usually take that long? No, of course not, I replied. If you've got everything in place, then it should only take days, a couple of weeks perhaps, for the government to do their inspection, make sure all your other permits are in place and above board. But unfortunately, that's not how things work.

True story.

And that's why corruption is rampant in all levels of government. The bureaucratic red tape all but totally prevents the delivery of services that we're forced to play according to the rules of corrupt public servants. They become our masters, in fact, slaves because they believe their positions are those of power, and not social responsibility. And that's the reason why any call by the people or any attempt by a well-meaning government official to introduce changes that would eliminate red tape, it is met with stiff opposition by those in power. Red tape empowers corrupt public officials.

And corruption is why good roads are dug up and rebuilt for no apparent reason other than fattening the bank accounts of both corrupt public officials and unscrupulous businessmen. It is the reason why gardens are destroyed to make way for ugly, tacky, tasteless concrete structures and steel gates and fences. It is the reason homes were destroyed and lives were lost when a mountain from Irisan of garbage came rushing down the hillsides towards Asin Road. And it is also the reason why the moneyed can get away with the murder of hundreds of trees and the rape of our environment at the expense of our children's future.

So, I told my son, if you're one of those who slip in a 500-peso bill inside your diver's license to get away with illegal parking or driving without a seatbelt on, you're as guilty as the rotten policeman who receives the 500-peso bill. If you're one of those who gave "pangmeryenda" to the guy behind the desk so that you will be prioritized over those who cannot afford to do the same, or are too principled to do so, you're as guilty. If you're the business establishment owner who paid every single signatory on that permit a bribe to run your business, you're as guilty as the every single one of them who signed that piece of paper in return. Or if you're the one who sits idly by, not caring all these things, who even scoffs at the ones who go out in the streets to try to effect changes in our society, then you are indeed as guilty.

Guilty of what? Ruining our lives today and ensuring an even worse future for generations to come.

True story.



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http://kmaltomonte.blogspot.com

Elitist Regime in Baguio

We were excited by the thought that from our new home, the jeepney passes first right by the school of our youngest child, then his manong’s school next. So on the first school day after moving to our new home, I walked our three children to where they can take their respective jeeps – our daughter would have to take another jeep since her school is in another part of the Central Business District.

But the boys’ jeepney took another route and skipped their schools – during the morning rush hour, jeepneys are not allowed along Gen. Luna Road. They had to walk the few blocks from where they got off to their schools. I don’t think they’re the only ones who live in our part of the town who go to those two schools in that area of the Central Business District. Those children, too, would have to walk the extra few blocks because, again, public utility jeeps aren’t allowed along Gen. Luna Road during the morning rush hour. They do this, presumably, to help de-clog that area in the morning.

We’re fortunate enough to have access to a private vehicle. One morning, while driving the kids to school, I noticed the huge cars ahead of me drop one child each to school. Three huge cars, three passengers got to their destination. We'd really rather take the jeep, not only is it cheaper, we also contribute less to the degradation of the air quality and traffic congestion in the area.

So to help ease traffic, they ban vehicles that can carry about 20 persons at a time and allow private cars that bring one student each at a time. Not so long ago, to ease traffic along Session Road, they closed a couple of pedestrian lanes forcing those on foot to walk the extra hundred meters or so to cross to the other side.

Our local government finds it easy to inconvenience the masses to please those who have more in life. Shouldn’t it be the other way around? That those who have less in life should have more in law? Not in Baguio City.

And that’s also why those clamoring for a fully pedestrianized Session Road, or at least just car-less days perhaps, that would result in much cleaner air within the Central Business District, will never get to realize that dream under the present regime in Baguio. The moneyed people are opposed to the idea, and judging from what we see right now: Gen. Luna Road closed to public vehicles so that private car owners will not be inconvenienced in the morning, lesser pedestrian crossings on Session Road so that those million-peso SUVs will not get stuck in traffic, endorsing the cutting of 182 trees for a parking lot for the convenience of those who actually own cars, the ceding of the Athletic Bowl to a private company for the benefit of the investors and those in power more than anyone else… add that to the putting up of gates around a public park because according to the city’s environment and parks department head, we, the masses, do not behave properly in open spaces and that we might just improve our behavior if we’re inside a gated and fenced area like a country club.

Today’s Baguio is for the elite, the rich, the moneyed, much like what the rest of the country thought when the Americans were just starting to establish a hill station in these parts when members of the Philippine Assembly voiced out their opposition to what they believed was a project that would benefit only the elite, the rich, the moneyed.

At least the Americans listened to the sentiments of local legislators then, and made sure that there are amenities in Baguio that would benefit those of moderate means, or the masa. Among them, a public transportation system for those who don’t own cars, those pedestrian crossings on Session Road so that those on foot can also easily navigate the Central Business District, and public open spaces for those who cannot afford a country club membership or a round of golf at Camp John Hay.

I don’t see this regime ever putting the welfare of the masses ahead of the moneyed. We’ve seen too much to expect anything of that sort from them.

The Art of Dionne Warwick

She walked towards centerstage like she owned it. She did – Dionne Warwick entered, conquered and owned the UB Gymnasium stage last Thursday. And once again it was proven that at the end of the day, it’s not about hitting those high notes, flashy costumes or fancy theatrics – it’s all about the music and the artist’s commitment to the craft.

Her Philippine concert tour schedule was a challenge – the Manila Hotel on July 20, at the Smart Araneta Coliseum the following day, in Davao on July 23, then zigzag her way up to Baguio on the eve of her July 25 concert in Baguio. Even the vocal chords of the much younger Per Sorensen, one half of the duo Fra Lippo Lippi, gave when he toured the country in 2011, struggling through his hour-long set in a concert brought to Baguio also by Waltrix Productions.

Warwick’s voice was hoarse by the time she stepped on the Baguio stage, but struggle the 72 year-old artist did not. As she said to her audience in her opening spiel, “whatever I’ve got to give, you’re gonna get it.” And get it we did, “it” being a world-class, once-in-a-lifetime performance by one of the "40 biggest hit makers of the entire rock era." She conquered that vocal challenge and performed her songs as if they were meant to be sung with that raspy voice.

Her performance was pure, honest. It was brimming with passion. She was onstage not to show off, most artists fall into that trap when in front of an audience. She was there to share a life-changing experience with her audience. That’s what art’s all about, and that’s what one gets from a true artist such as Dionne Warwick.

She sang her heart out – and connected with her audience individually. I could have sworn that she was singing “keep smiling, keep shining, knowing you can always count on me...” to me, personally. She did look me straight in the eye for a moment during the song, that’s when tears started filling my eyes. She told the story of each song with so much sincerity and heart. I believe it wouldn’t have mattered whether one was a seasoned Warwick fan or a teenager who had no clue as to who this towering figure of a woman on stage was – the performance was a deeply emotional, very intimate experience, it touched everyone. My son couldn’t help but say, “she’s the coolest human being I’ve ever seen on stage.” Or something to that effect. Coming from a 14-year old music buff whose usual musical inclination includes The Beatles, The Doors, XX and the Killers and who has seen Sting perform live, that means a lot.

Waltrix Productions head, Jen Manasala-Bautista, enabler of such world-class concerts in Baguio, shared with me what Warwick whispered into her ear after the performance – “I want to come back here.” I sure hope she does. I’m quite sure my son would save up to pay for his own ticket this time.

Willie Revillame for National Artist

I will not discuss whether Carlo J. Caparas deserved the title of National Artist, there are much better minds out there who can do that. But I do agree with the Supreme Court decision recalling the award given to him and three other artists.

In the late 90's, I was sent by the Baguio Arts Guild as a representative to the National Artist Award pre-selection process. I liked the idea of having artists determine who deserves the award. There were dozens of us artists, cultural workers, representatives of various art institutions and others invited as individuals. We were grouped according to our respective art fields.

Our group, theater, deliberated for hours to come up with a shortlist of theater artists whom we believed deserved the award. The other groups representing the different art fields came up with their own shortlist of candidates coming from their field of expertise.

Then each group presented, and defended their respective candidates in front of all the members of the pre-selection panel. The government can only give the award to so many artists at a time, so the goal of the presentation was to further trim down the shortlists, each containing an average of five or six names, to the least number possible.

The result of the deliberations was one master shortlist of artists, which would then be forwarded to Malacañang for the President's confirmation. The idea was that the President can either confer the award to everyone in the shortlist, or choose some, or none, from that list. He is not supposed to confer the award to any artist who was not endorsed by his peers.

And there lies the anomaly in the way Caparas received his award - he was not endorsed by the panel of artists in the screening process, administered jointly by the Cultural Center of the Philippines and the National Commission on Culture and the Arts. This process is enforced to avoid, or at least minimize politicizing the award, the highest given by our government to artists. Former President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo apparently didn't think much of, in fact spat on, the artists' opinion when she inserted her own set of candidates.

The following are the criteria to become a National Artist:
- Living artists who have been Filipino citizens for the last ten years prior to nomination as well as those who have died after the establishment of the award in 1972 but were Filipino citizens at the time of their death;
- Artists who have helped build a Filipino sense of nationhood through the content and form of their works;
- Artists who have distinguished themselves by pioneering in a mode of creative expression or style, making an impact on succeeding generations of artists;
- Artists who have created a significant body of works and/or have consistently displayed excellence in the practice of their art form, enriching artistic expression or style; and
- Artists who enjoy broad acceptance through prestigious national and/or international recognition, awards in prestigious national and/or international events, critical acclaim and/or reviews of their works, and/or respect and esteem from peers within an artistic discipline.

These criteria serve as a guide for the CCP and NCCA-led screening process. Perhaps Caparas' string of massacre films "helped build a Filipino sense of nationhood," or earned for himself "awards in prestigious national and/or international events," or "critical acclaim and/or reviews of their works," but the fact remains:  he was not nominated by his peers during the screening process. In the case of one of Caparas' co-awardees, Cecile Guidote-Alvarez, it was not just about the nomination, she was then the chair of one of the institutions tasked to oversee the screening process, the NCCA. Delicadeza must not be in their vocabulary.

Caparas, in a live face off with National Artist Virgilio Almario on television, dismissed the Supreme Court decision and said that at the end of the day, he's still more famous and better known by Filipinos than Almario. 

Hmmm, I suggest we take a second look at the criteria lest Willie Revillame is conferred the National Artist Award for the same reason Caparas believed he deserved it.

Serendipity And What Kafagway Stood For

On Tuesday, July 16, 2013, it would be 23 years since Baguio was almost completely destroyed by an earthquake. A Baguio old timer took exception when I said that a lot of people gave up Baguio for dead at the time. I can understand her sentiment, she must have been one of the many Baguio residents who stood by their beloved city and rebuilt it from the ground up.

But that’s how it felt for people like me who were not living here then. A lot of my friends, some of whom were students here at the time, some were living here, left Baguio after the tragedy and the news they brought down with them was not encouraging: Baguio was almost completely devastated that it seemed impossible that it would ever get back on its feet again. Or at least it would take a very long while. I even know of a friend whose mother worked as a caretaker of a house who ended up virtually owning the house after the owners left Baguio for good, and along with it their property. To this day, the owners have not returned.

The following year, another natural calamity struck: the eruption of Mt. Pinatubo, one of the worst volcanic eruptions in centuries. While Baguio was not directly affected by the eruption, save for the few days of gloomy skies brought about by the unthinkable amount of ash that Mt. Pinatubo released, access to the mountain city was hampered due to the destruction in Pampanga and Tarlac. Roads were closed, reopened, and closed again every time the rains fell and lahar flowed.

But Baguio’s residents stood their ground – tourists or no tourists, this was their home, and they will never give up on it. Artists set up soup kitchens to help in the relief efforts of the government in the days following the earthquake. Families rebuilt their homes and their lives. In the blink of an eye, Baguio was back on its feet. Just three years after the earthquake, Baguio hosted one of the biggest international arts festivals the country has ever seen – the Baguio International Arts Festival put together by the Baguio Arts Guild, which served as an inspiration and a model for other art festivals all over the country.

I was here at the time, in 1993, as a member of the cast of the movie “Sakay,” promoting the showing of the film here in Baguio which was sponsored by the Baguio Arts Guild. I remember having to take Naguillian Road on our way up because both Marcos Highway and Kennon Road were closed due to landslides. The arduous journey up to Baguio from Manila, which took more than 10 hours that also involved navigating through lahar-stricken roads in Pampanga and Tarlac, took a toll on my body and I arrived in Baguio shivering and spent the rest of the week here woozy and feeling very weak. But that didn’t stop me from visiting the galleries, spending afternoons at the dap-ay at Cafe by the Ruins pounding on drums with local artists, attending mass at the Baguio Cathedral, and woozy nights at one of the cottages at Teachers Camp.

A couple of years later, I was back this time as a member of the cast of a foreign film being shot here. We did scenes at the landslide prone area along Marcos Highway where the viaduct is now, at Ambuklao and Binga dams, and at the end of the day, while the rest of my co-actors would immediately go to the nearest bar or the tourist section at the market, I would walk to Burnham Park, the Rose Garden in particular, and would just lay on the grass, watch the fog blanket the city until the sun disappeared for the night.

Then I would walk, through the park, just as I did with my mother and brother as a child during our frequent trips to Baguio, by the lake where couples in boats took advantage of the last few minutes before the boatman told them that’s it for the day; through the biking area where kids try to ignore their parents telling them it’s time to go home; through the Melvin Jones Grounds where football players are just packing up and shaking mud off their shoes after a rigorous game.

All that made me decide to make Baguio my home. I moved up here and put up a theater group called "open space." But I digress.

Baguio survived World War II, a devastating earthquake, the countless typhoons that brought immeasurable amounts of rain and the resulting landslides. It withstood all that, it endured and remained a haven, cradled by majestic mountain ranges and towering pine trees even as it continued to progress into a highly urbanized city.

And that’s why we cannot just sit and watch as a few politicians forward their misdirected initiatives that aim to lay all that’s left of Baguio to waste with fences and gates around our parks and concrete on every available natural space.

A friend reminded me just a few days ago, after talking about our effort to oppose the putting up of gates around Burnham Park along with the planned concreting and privatization of portions of it, that the general area where Baguio is today was once known to the natives as “Kafagway,” which meant “open space.”

Wounded and vulnerable: the pine trees at JHMC

“All slash and tree stems must be property disposed of as the scent of freshly cut pine limbs attracts more IPS Beetles to the area,” says an article at http://mindtospiritpathwaysco.com. It also said that “chips must be broadcast spread no deeper than 2 inches and not piled so they dry quickly to eliminate the cut pine scent.” The Colorado State Forest Service, in a webpage entitled Ips Beetle Treatment Options, also claimed that “Normally Ips beetles limit their attack to trees in decline or are wounded or stressed.”

The last time I visited these pages was when SM City Baguio, after having jumping from one justification to another in their effort to convince us to find their expansion project acceptable, testified during the court hearing in the case filed against them that among the reasons for the removal of 182 trees in the area is the presence of an Ips infestation. For those not familiar with Ips, it is a type of beetle that attacks pine trees and their presence usually means a death sentence to the host tree. The only known effective way to prevent an infestation is the cutting and grinding and burning of an infected tree.

I don’t claim to be an expert on the subject, far from it, in fact. But after doing a bit more research on the subject, I learned that these pine killer beetles are attracted to the scent of pine, as stated by the article sited above. That’s why I was quite concerned when I noticed that the trees around the John Hay Management Corporation (JHMC) office complex have had an area of around a square foot of bark removed so they can paint numbers on them as part of their inventory system, I suppose.

Any Baguioite knows the slightest cut on a pine trunk or branch sends the fragrant scent of pine wafting through the air. I am worried that this might attract the dreaded Ips calligraphus beetles to feast on the glorious, healthy Benguet pine trees whose trunks have been wounded and left exposed and vulnerable.

Then at the entrance of the JHMC area at Camp John Hay is a cluster of medium-sized pine trees. While the ones that line the road look green and healthy, right behind those are trees with drying, brown pine needles. They may be the result of planting the trees being planted too close to each other, or, as stated in an article on the subject of beetle infestation in www.freshfromflorida.com, “Often the first noticeable indication of an Ips infestation is the fading of foliage from green to yellow to reddish brown.”

I have called the attention of several JHMC personnel regarding this and I was told not to worry for they know what they’re doing.

Dozens of wounded trees with exposed trunks, and dozens more with dried or drying pine needles that could be signs of an Ips calligraphus infestation – I sure hope they know what they’re doing.