TRI • ANGLES

TRI • ANGLES

Just exactly what is a piece of sculpture?

Of course, you do know what it is, (and it’s not just the statue of National Hero Jose Rizal in our town plazas!)  but here is one reply to the question you may not have heard of:

“A sculpture is what you bump into, as you back up to get a look at a painting.”

Beyond the un-intended caustic wit and humor of the statement, it reflects the real state of the art of sculpture: regarded as secondary in importance to painting, with the public’s lamentable lack of appreciation.

No less than National Artist Luz remarked on how, way back in the Sixties, he himself had “strayed” into the field of sculpture. Said Luz: “My sculptures are the logical extension of my paintings.” Indeed, he had predicted that “the next boom in Philippine art will be sculpture, and this was precisely the time when one day, I looked around suddenly realized that the Philippines had only two or three sculptors to speak of, which I find very strange. We have a tremendous amount of materials to speak of.”

Helping to realize the predicted boom in Philippine sculpture is the Galerie Anna-organized show at the SM Megamall Art Center. Titled “Tri-Angles,” the show presents the recent works of the country’s emerging and established sculptors.

“Tri-Angles” emphasizes the appreciation of materials as material, as these sculptures make use of the traditional processes of modeling, casting, carving, constructing, and assembling, as well as an intermingling of these techniques. As well, various themes and temperaments are embodied in these sculptures that all address humanist emotion.

In distinguishing our appreciation of sculpture versus that of painting, it is well to remember what the critic Max Kozloff said: “Sculpture is ultimately an independent, volumetric entity. It is tangible, occupies a fixed space, and is in a specific state of matter, facts from which every sculptor has been obliged to make his point of departure.”

-Cid Reyes, Art Critic and Curator

"!!!!"

“Wind in the trees, thunder, flowing water, falling leaves, rain, animal voices --- we live amid a teeming polyphony of natural sounds. Add to these the sound of human activity, from soft footsteps to pneumatic drills, from muted conversation to pounding trains, from jetting fountains to jet planes. Then we have the articulate, measured, imagined sounds of art --- all the many kinds of music, which so specifically and directly convey the spirit of a people. Our world is permeated with sounds, some calming the heart and mind, some keeping us frenetic and on edge.” Thus, the spiritual writer Thomas Moore on the subject of “Noise and Silence.”

Cognizant of the assault and violation of our aural sense, and making a plea for the redeeming sound of silence, is the concept behind the show titled “Noise,” now  on view at Galerie Anna. Curated by Robert Besana, the works demonstrate in visual terms much of the anxiety and stress of modern life generated by the destruction of silence, when peace and quiet have been denied to the human spirit.

Indeed, we now have the phrase “white noise,” which is defined as “a constant background noise, especially one that drowns our other sounds. It could also mean “meaningless or distracting commotion, hubbub, or chatter.” For the more technically inclined, white noise is “a sound that contains every frequency within the range of human hearing (generally from 20 hertz to 30kHz) in equal amounts.”

 Interestingly, there is another variant phrase, “pink noise,” which is white noise “that has been filtered to reduce the volume of each octave.” Whether white or pink, and no matter the color, noise is simply nuisance: the blaring of the neighbor’s karaoke, the din of roaring vehicles poised for a road rage, or the raucous voices of politicians ringing in what are supposed to be the hallowed portals of the state. They are all, each one, “wounding sounds.”

Thomas Moore, once more: “Sound is one of the most direct and simple means we have at our disposal for enchanting life and caring for the soul. There is no reason why we could not tune our world, keep it at a pitch, and allow only the most forgiving dissonances. The soul would then be ready for joy and pleasure, and not be crimped into protective postures in absolute horror at the noise we allow to be characteristic of civilization.”

                                                                        -Cid Reyes

Conversations of the Birds

Galerie Anna proudly presents master colorist, multi-awarded, universal visual
artist Rodney P. Yap and his new collection CONVERSATIONS OF THE BIRDS from
October 19-November 2, 2016 wherein 15 works on canvas metaphorically narrate
stories of life and fanciful tête-à-têtes of living.
“This series convey a lot of things,” opens Yap. “It combines a show of faith,
metaphor and at some point satire; the birds in allusion to man present a different way
of looking at everyday experience and even behavior.”
The never-before-exhibited centerpiece “Negotiating the Betrothal of the Last
Princess; Ending Clan Wars,” was a finalist in the 2012 Bangko Sentral ng Pilipinas
Tanaw Art competition. “Much of the conflicts and tensions not just in the country but in
the global sense could be resolved if men would set aside indifference, negotiate and
find a common or middle ground,” Yap explains.
The six 18x24in paintings flow in metaphors – images that leave to the spectator
his/her own conclusions about the slice of life. The dreamy “Mountains of the Great
Poet” is like a refuge – a haven to heal broken souls. The quadriptych “Conversations”
is like a gathering or assembly. “I remember from way back when I was still in
elementary school. The townsfolk described the way the tribes talked to each other;
dialect sounded like birds. From then till now, this painting is my homage to tribal gettogethers,”
Yap said.
“On the whole, I believe that like birds, life should be worry-free. Worry, though
part of life, is futile. And I based that on the Bible that says: That is why I tell you not to
worry about everyday life. Look at the birds.”
Bacolod-born Davao City-based Rodney Yap is an alumnus of the Ford Academy
of the Arts. From 2007 he has consistently been a Philippine Art Awards winner in both
Regional and National levels. He has exhibited in Poland, Germany, Brussels and
Rotterdam and has been featured in international art fairs and expos in Malaysia,
Singapore and Seoul. In 2013 he was long listed in the Artraker art for peace
competition and in 2015 he was one of the nine delegates for the Florence Biennale.
He is currently an Art Instructor at the Philippine Women’s College in Davao City.

EMBODIED MEANINGS

“ “Embodied Meanings” at 2016 Manila Art

 

Galerie Anna presents “Embodied Meanings” at Manila Art 2016, with participating artists: Ricky Ambagan, Cezar Arro, Grandier Bella, Ferdie Cacnio, Jun Impas, Toti Cerda, Melvin Culaba, Ivy Floresca, Gerry Joquico, Vincent Padilla, Iggy Rodriguez and Glenn Cagandahan.

The phrase is derived from the American critic Arthur Danto, who himself was influenced by the philosophy of art of the German philosopher Hegel, who writes: “The work of art, as a sensuous object, is not merely for sensuous apprehension; its standing is of such a kind that, though sensuous, it is essentially at the same time for spiritual apprehension; the spirit is meant to be affected by it and to find some satisfaction in it.” Explains Danto: “The originality of the artist comes from inventing modes of embodying meanings she or he may share with communities of very large circumference.”

Toti Cerda deconstructs the revered masterpieces of the country’s greatest muralist Carlos “Botong” Francisco, while Jun Impas celebrates the nobility of age and culture of the Manobos.

From  his abstract layers of gestural brushstrokes emerge the ambiguous and haunting figures of Cezar Arro, contrasting with the definite sculptural line of Ferdie Cacnio’s ballerinas.

Vincent Padilla’s nostalgia for a vanished past is transformed into a narrative of personal longing for a beloved’s absence, made more meaningful as a classic kundiman or love song. Gerry Joquico’s “Haliging Asin” alludes to Lot’s wife in the Biblical tale in Genesis, who was turned into a pillar of salt when she looked back at Sodom.

More a reflection of contemporary times is a topical subject of violence personified by the feared and loathsome death squad, as embodied in Melvin Culaba’s artwork. Violence, too, is the inherent theme of Ivy Floresca’s “Gospel at 35 Degree” where trigger-happy  hands metamorphose into actual bullets.

Grandier Bella paints an ode to childhood in the portrait of a young boy fantasizing himself as an Indian chief, while fantasy is flaunted by Iggy Rodriguez as a forbidding and towering palace floating in space.

Glenn Cagandahan’s “Jose Rizal” and “Andres Bonifacio” lend their ineffable presence as a projection of their enduring role in the shaping of  our country’s future history, putting pressure on the present to learn the lessons of the past.

 Manila Art 2016 is at the SM Aura Premier, Bonifacio Global City, Taguig, on view October 6-9.  For inquiries, call Galerie Anna, cell nos: 0936-713-9213 and 0909-591-8495.

 

"HUGOT MODE"

    MELVIN CULABA: Deep Sighs Coming from “HUGOT MODE”

When the greatest poet of the 20th century T. S. Eliot wrote “Humankind cannot bear too much reality,” he was referring to his adopted city: “A crowd flowed under London Bridge. I had not thought death had undone so many.”  The terrifying words emerged from his masterpiece titled “The Waste Land.” As a poetic allegory, it might as well be a depiction of contemporary Philippines, a land laid waste, or at any rate, surely determined to tread the path of destruction.     On view at Galerie Anna is the 23rd solo exhibition of Melvin Culaba. It is a grim, dark, and desperate portrait of a people, and despite our nature’s typical inclination to inject humor even in the midst of tragedy, these are indeed times that try men’s souls. The title itself, “Hugot,” is indicative of our penchant to create a label, a coined word (of which we have a genius), or a slogan to capture a specific or topical phenomenon, whether social, cultural, political or religious. “Hugot” implies drawing from a deep well of hurt, pain, anger or resentment. An observant social realist with an astute eye for the folly of the Filipino, Culaba presents these anxious views that may well be interpreted as visual epitaphs.     Is there a more raging subject in our lives now than the war on drugs? Culaba casts a caustic eye on a social problem of pandemic proportion that threatens to turn our country into a narco-state. Working with layers of symbols and meanings, Culaba depicts a crumbling mansion that was once a noble residence of a distinguished personage, now discredited by history as a traitor. Now in a state of ruins, the mansion – a symbol of the country? -  has been taken over by what are euphemistically called “informal settlers” and alas, transformed into a veritable drug den. Culaba’s approach to painting is a no-holds-barred, unflinching confrontation with reality.     Another painting that works with symbols is “Battleship P,” which may look mysteriously forbidding, as it is the familiar accordion-style metal doors used in warehouses or bodegas.  In one of his journeys down Binondo and Chinatown – like Dante descending into the gates of hell – Culaba was struck by the almost abstract and minimalist design of the subject, which he thereby used as a symbol for the problem at the West Philippine Sea. In his painting, he included a Jet Ski and a lone star fish on the ground. The reference, sly and sardonic, is to the remark of President Duterte, braving his way on the high seas in order to confront China. Comparing the Jet Ski to a battleship merely proves the pathetic helplessness of our country’s capability to protect our shores from foreign usurpers.     The unstable situation in Mindanao exacerbated by the Abu Sayyaf is depicted in “May Forever sa Usapang Bala” where a brigand-figure is garbed a la Marinduque’s Moriones, with the local headgear of a Roman centurion. Culaba relocates an alarming real-life situation into the domain of native theater, in this instance alluding to the Moro-Moro and the battle between the Muslims and the Christians.     As “Hugot” originated from personal emotional travails, there are of course portraits of the human condition, by turns poignant and mischievous. A work that refers to the “hugot” of a painter – No sales? A savage review by a critic? A forthcoming show? – should not necessarily be construed as “autobiographical.” Nonetheless, Culaba knows only much too well the many heartaches and frustrations of the vocation of an artist.     A species of the “Ukay-Ukay” is the “Surplus.” Culaba is, once again, quick to paint this social reality: how a poor Third World country like ours is made the dumping ground of used and second hand goods by rich First World countries like Japan. But this is indeed our reality, with the specter of poverty and economic want always before our eyes, a reality which will not disappear even as we wallow in the quagmire of our “HUGOT Mode.”

BLOODLINES

“Bloodlines II” at the SM Megamall Art Center

 

Is artistry hereditary? Is there really an artistic DNA? Why does creativity  run in certain families?

Undoubtedly, Filipinos are celebrated for their artistry in almost all the art forms, and whether in acting, singing, dancing, writing, composing, or directing, a next generation is sure to follow in the artistic footsteps of their parents.

Impelled by these fascinating questions and in celebration of this admirable Philippine phenomenon, Galerie Anna presents the second edition of “Bloodlines,” a selection of visual  works by the country’s families of artists.

 “Bloodlines II” proves that early exposure to the painting activities of their parents as well as the availability of art materials at home are significant factors in the nurturing of the family’s next generation of artists. As a communal activity, painting provides the time for bonding among the family members, with their own parents or siblings as “resident mentors.” The sharing and exchanging of ideas and opinions are also a boon to growing up in an artistic family.

Each of these artists is pursuing his or her own personal direction, whether as the natural evolution of their parents’ vision, or as a radical reaction against it. And whether their painting idiom, style, or technique differs from each other. it can still be said that the family that paints together stays together.

Participating families in “Bloodlines II” are: Santos (Malang, Steve, Soler, Mona, Luis, Carina, Isabel), Vinluan (Nestor, Paulo), Veneracion (Roy, Ian), Delacruz (Fil, Janos), Joquico ( Gerry, Gary, Grae), Cacnio (Angel, Ferdie), Alvarado (Nune, Nonalisa, Bogie, Burog, Nuklar), Garibay (Bam, Nina), Jumalon (Edwin, Mijan, Is, Lorna, Jana), Samson (Jerson, Jaypee), Perreras (Edu, Eric, Eliseo, Eduard), Simsim (Dexter, Joey), Buccat (Herwin, Jerry), Tolentino (Kristoffer, France) and Syjuco (Cesare, Jean Marie, Julian, Maxine, Michelline, Trix).

“Bloodlines II” is curated by art critic Cid Reyes.

SM Megamall Art Center is at the 4/L, The Artwalk, Bldg.A, SM Megamall, EDSA. Mandaluyong City. For inquiries, call cel nos: 0909-591-8495 and 0936-713-9212.

 

 

Windmills of the Mind

THE JOQUICOS:

TILTING AT THE “WINDMILLS OF THE MIND”

 

“Art evokes the mystery without which the world  would not exist.” The statement was famously said by the Belgian surrealist named Rene Magritte, whose influence persists into this century, while the works of the better known,  more media savvy,  Salvador Dali have been reduced to parody and kitsch. The reason for Magritte’s enduring popularity resides in the fact that his works continue to resonate with modern man, ascending  to multiple interpretations, even influencing the Conceptualists with his interplay of verbal and visual conundrums, while continuing to plumb the depths of the subconscious.

Magritte’s most iconic image is actually a self-portrait: the bowler-hatted gentleman in a black overcoat, his face obscured by a hovering green apple. Of this work, intriguingly titled “The Son of Man,” Magritte remarked: “Everything we see hides another things, we always want to see what is hidden by what we see.”

Currently on view at Galerie Anna is “Windmills of the Mind”, a group exhibition by Gary Joseph Joquico, Grae Martin Joquico, and paterfamilias Gerry Joquico. Magritte himself  would have been the ideal guest invited (in spirit, of course) to cut the ceremonial ribbon, for his influence is admirably pervasive in the works of the Joquicos.

The bowler-hatted man appears in Gary Joseph’s works titled “Probe and Dawdle,” where he is depicted with a magnifying glass trained at the gallery visitor, while in “Missing Link,” he stands and scans the skies through a telescope, with his alter-ego, or Other Self, seated on a stool, his face entirely obscured by a dunce cap- box dumped on his head.

In Jerry Joquico’s works, we can observe Magritte’s Gentleman, out of the glare of his role as an icon, stripped of his theatrical mask and invested with a personal life. In  “Pundido,” the title refers to the overhead bulb where the man and his woman are together in a bathtub. In “Enchantment” the same couple share a quiet but emotionally charged moment of domestic bliss.

In paintings that deviate from Magritte’s character, the Joquicos explore other scenarios and narratives, sustaining the surrealist strain attuned to contemporary reality: a modiste’s shop populated by life-like but bloodless mannequins (World of Clones), a deathly-pale maiden deprived of sunlight (Etiolation), pairs of hands seemingly closing in to strangle a helpless woman (Wheel of Fortune),  and the same maiden with a rose sprouting  from her mouth and an egg-nest emerging  from her chest (Sleeper Foal).

Through  the titles which Gerry Joquico imposed on his works, he hints at mysteries hidden from plain sight while the observer is much too engrossed by the startling image,  its sensuous execution, and the curious blend of fantasy, menace and theatricality, all dominated by a grey and somber mood.

            Being the abstractionist in the family, Grae Martin Joquico was faced with the challenge of conveying the same mysterious mood in a non-representational manner. His response is centered on  greying and atmospheric abstract landscapes, where the skies are caught in a maelstrom of swirling impastoed pigments, conducted by the artist and  set to the music of the spheres; thus the titles Preludes in the Skies, Songs After The Storm, and Serenade to Luna.

            The title of the Joquicos’ show must perforce allude to the well-known Academy award-winning song, but  Magritte will also remind us of the knight Don Quixote tilting at the windmills, thinking they were giants, and that it was Surrealism that gave permission to express mankind’s deepest fears  and anxieties, which humankind continues to slay.

            Galerie Anna is at the 4/L, The Artwalk, Bldg. A, SM Megamall, EDSA, Mandaluyong City. For inquiries, call cel nos: 0936-713-9212 and 0909-591-8495.

Kabanata

Seldom do we see a show so rich in narrative sprawl, reaching into recesses of subject matter that emergeS from unexpected sources, simultaneously torn between a serious temperament and flamboyant execution, taking issue with multifarious existential anxieties and events wrought by Destiny itself. Painting of a literary bent has always been spurned and disdained by certain quarters – the critics not surprisingly at the forefront – based on the notion that narratives are more appropriately the province of literature. Stories-within-pictures often reek of fictionists seeking an extension of their domain in a medium that is better addressed to pictorial problems.

Now on view at the Galerie Anna is a show titled “Kabanata”, a solo exhibition by Janos Delacruz, progeny of senior artist Fil Delacruz, and it is one sure sign of the younger artist’s spirit of independence that his vision was not usurped from that of Delacruz pere, though the sensitive eye will not fail to notice the discrete affinities in compositional complexities. The origins, however, of Janos Delacruz’s come not from lofty epiphanies of the spirit, but from the daily musings provoked by immediate stimuli, effected by family discussions and exchanges of opinions on volatile issues such as Philippine politics, the Church, contemporary romance and sexuality of the third-sex kind, skeletons-in-the closet of one’s departed ancestors, the high rate of criminality, the drug menace, or just pure, unadulterated neighbourhood gossip. And as that cheezy Identi-kit questionnaire “You are Pinoy, if…”goes, you are bound to find Delacruz’s works suitably and delectably transfixing.

To the artist’s credit, Delacruz does not convey his omnivorous interests with naked earnestness. Instead, he cloaks his images as visual vignettes that can be interpreted in several levels, such that a couple of viewers may interpret them differently, with each one believing that he has cracked the painting’s visual code. Delacruz has addressed his art to serious subjects, without forgetting that he is not delivering a sermon on the pulpit, with all the pomp of a self-righteous preacher. He is always aware that he is, first and foremost, in front of the easel with paintbrushes waiting at his command, enacting a visual performance.

All the works are titled in the vernacular, with all the whiplash impact of contemporary reality, phrased at once in a manner jocular and wounding. In “Sunod-Sunuran sa Tuwad na Daan” or in “Katok-Pakiusap,” Delacruz delivers a message that is as straightforward as current events unreeling on the television screen. In “Karumaldumal” the word reverberates from the mouth of the People’s Champ as a vile denunciation of forbidden love. In “Sugal ang Bawa’t Padyak ng Buhay,” the artist identifies himself with the tricycle driver as Everyman, who when he leaves his house in the morning, may be on his last journey on earth. Not yet remote in Delacruz’s memory is the earthquake that devastated Japan, which he memorializes in “Sagupaan ng Langit at Lupa.” Viewers may be unnerved at the catastrophic prospect of our own country’s “The Big One.”

What is rewarding in Delacruz’s works is the sheer fertility of detailed passages, molded pictorially as in montage, flamboyant without being frivolous, each painting active and alive. Indeed, these are works that amuse themselves. Intriguingly, they can appeal to a juvenile audience, eliciting a childlike grin, since the artist’s delineation of his figures is highly stylized, imparting on them the cocky confidence of a cartoon character, leaping off the page, each one building up to a chapter, a “kabanata” reflected in Janos Delacruz’s own artistic life-story.

Taking pride of place, right smack on center stage of the gallery space, is the artist’s lone sculpture titled “Trono ng Reynang Dalahira” or “Throne of the  Gossip Queen.” Crafted in wood in the shape of a gaping mouth, riddled with spikes and painted a sizzling red, the sculpture mocks  the malodorous connivance between the tattler’s braying mouth and her torturously seated ass.

Nothing it seems can escape Janos Delacruz’s sharply observing eye, chronicling man’s every folly and pompous view of himself. For the artist, it is all grist for the mill, worth recording  in the chapters of his visual journals.

Happily Ever After

 
                                                                                    "Happily Ever After" at Galerie Anna
 
        Just as the lakeshore town of Angono became fabled for the artistry of National Artist Carlos "Botong" Francisco, so too, was its neighboring Binangonan, where lived and died National Artist Vicente Manansala. Despite the distance and the privacy of his studio on a hillside overlooking the clear waters of Laguna de Bay, Manansala was pursued by fame and fortune, with eager collectors visiting the voluble artist, affixing their names on the back of empty canvases, awaiting the master's creation. In succeeding decades, both Angono and Binangonan spawned generations of artists, touched it seemed, by Botong's and Mang Enteng's artistic DNA.
 
        Himself born and  raised in the heart of Binangonan, indeed in the lake-island of Talim, award-winning master watercolorist, Toti Cerda organizes and curates a show titled "Happily Ever After" which opens at Galerie Anna on August 1. Its participants are artists all with familial roots in the towns of Binangonan and nearby Taytay, namely, Aldron F. Anchinges, Arman Jay S. Arago, Bryan Apolinario, Cris Tuazon, Jan Pocholo Policarpio, John Perry Pellejera, Pogi Rodriguez, Romnick M. Diez, and Toti Cerda.
 
        As befits the title, the collective images in the show cultivate the Pop aesthetics of comic book fairy tales, as well as familiar mythology and contemporary cartoon characters, juxtaposed with existential concerns of anguish and anxiety, irrational fears and nameless phantoms and terrors, which are dispelled through exuberant humor and mirth, sarcasm and intentional loftiness. Interestingly, the individual works allude to each other. giving rise to various layers of tantalizing  meanings and interpretations.
 
        These Binangonan artists bask in the invigorating jumble of such characters as Santa Claus and  Hitler, Mona Lisa and Sponge Bob, Porky Pig and Little Red Riding Hood, Medusa and Cinderella. Albrecht Duhrer and Robin Williams, and the Greek god Zeus presiding in Mount Olympus. Complimenting these paintings are quirky epoxy sculptures that reinvent the standing Filipino bulul or rice god as Bugs Bunny with a grinning skull visage. The works invite the viewers' response as a savoring rediscovery of familiar and often loved Pop figures offered as sacrifices on the altar of Pop idolatry.
 
        As Grand Winner among the Hall of Fame awardees of the "Kulay sa Tubig"  competition, Toti Cerda made his name with realist watercolors depicting children at play in the rain and in the lake, rendered with superb delicacy. His sudden and unexpected incursion into Pop milieu was implicit in his large portraits of historical figures with a twist: Einstein as a chef, Chairman Mao as a turban-ed fortune teller, Marilyn Monroe as a veiled nun. His recent works are savage satires, masquerading as innocent entertainment, even as he engages the classic personas of Popeye and Olive Oyl, Mickey and Minnie Mouse as celebrity endorsers of canned spinach, motor oils and rat killers. 

Kwentong Diwata: Portraits of the Goddesses

SENSUAL SPIRITUALITY:

“Kuwentong Diwata: Portraits of the Goddesses” by Alfred Galvez

 

            Long have we heard of the enchantment of Mt. Makiling from artist-friends who have spent time studying at the Philippine High School for the Arts. Away from the congestion and contagion of our urban jungle, how we long for the serenity and solitude afforded us by a mountain-place that nestles the creative spirit. And for good reason: the beloved Mt. Makiling engendered the legend of Mariang Makiling, the diwata who is the guardian spirit of the mountain.

            Diwata is derived from the Sanskrit word devata, which is integral to Hinduism. These are spiritual beings believed to reside in large trees such as acacia and balete. They are invoked for blessings of a fruitful harvest, or health and fortune. And to those who cause harm to the forest and the mountain, they can incur illness or misfortune. A diwata is a goddess, a muse, the spirit that gives a poet, a composer or a painter his inspiration.

            One such artist who has found inspiration in the diwata is Alfred Galvez, who, not surprisingly, once studied at the Philippine High School for the Arts. His current show at Galerie Anna is another homage to his muse, the diwata. The show is the latest in a long series of exhibitions that are a seamless progression of visual celebration of the spirit of the forest and mountain. A distinct part of pre-colonial mythology, handed down through oral tradition, the diwata is described as extremely beautiful, ageless, of a fairer than average complexion, indeed of a pale skin. No wonder she is often called “the white lady.” What blessing for an artist like Galvez who has devoted his talent skill to the depiction of the essence of a woman’s beauty.

            Indeed, Galvez brings an eroticized thrill as he unveils the diwata emerging from the serpentine flowing of Art Nouveau lines, draping around her like an arch of triumph. The undulating lines are worthy of the arabesque, in obeisance, it seems, to the cascade of tresses, the plump voluptuous breasts, the longing and desire of a perfect and ripe physicality that must be sated. In “Unscented,” she becomes the very emblem of the hotly red flowers ready for the picking. In “Torch,” she seems to make her way through a lost dimension between the physical world and the spiritual realm. In “Twin Sister,” the artist unravels a narrative that insinuates the presence of a diwata’s alter-ego, or “other self.” Where the artist has succeeded is in the transformation of the diwata from a mystical, disembodied presence that resides within the bosom of the forest, to a distinctly living and palpable embodiment that has walked out of the confines of fantasy and fairy tales, in order to take her place in the real world. Only in that manner can the diwata be redeemed from the unfortunate anachronism to which she is otherwise sure to be consigned. No wonder, Galvez has invested the diwata with a sensual spirituality.

            This was achieved through the idiom of Classical Realism, which has been seeing a resurgence in the hands of extremely skilled practitioners. It places a high premium on pictorial skill and a devotion, if not obsession, with beauty as imagined by the ancient Greeks and resurrected in the hands of Renaissance artists. By all intents, it repudiates modern art, which is considered a devaluation of reality. Classical Realism has taken revenge on Modernism through the challenge of technical perfection and craftsmanship, and the idealization of the human figure.

            With this exhibition, Alfred Galvez once more proves that he is a voluptuary of idealized beauty, which he has found in the goddess-like being of the diwata.

  • Cid Reyes