Wednesday, May 29, 2024
7:00 AM |
Poetry Wednesday, No. 189.
Labels: poetry
[0] This is Where You Bite the Sandwich
Monday, May 27, 2024
I was once up for a literary award years and years ago. A major one. After the deliberations, one of the judges messaged me to congratulate me for winning the grand prize. But the letter that came said I only won an honorable mention and there was no grand prize winner, but all of us cited for honorable mention would get to share the grand prize moolah. So I went to Manila [which meant, I spent for air fare and hotel]. During awarding day, turns out there was no moolah at all, just the honorific of the honorable mention. Kapoy na. I just let it go. But a year ago, I went to the awards website. Guess what? I’m listed as the grand prize winner.
[The whole Eva Darren/FAMAS controversy just reminded me of this, for some reason.]
Labels: awards, life, philippine literature
[0] This is Where You Bite the Sandwich
Wednesday, May 22, 2024
7:00 AM |
Poetry Wednesday, No. 188.
Labels: poetry
[0] This is Where You Bite the Sandwich
Tuesday, May 21, 2024
Do you have a favorite book in the Bible? Mine is The Gospel of John, which contains of course the most quoted Bible verse of all time. But I also like that it begins with a powerful metaphor: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” As a writer, I like that God is likened to the very core of writing, which I often talk about in my own writing. If you’ve read my essay “The Words We Believe In,” published in Likhaan No. 15, I get into that very heavily.
Anyway, this book, which solely contains The Gospel of John, was a birthday gift last year from a former student, Micah Stefan Dagaerag, whose birthday is today. Thank you for the book, Micah! And happy birthday!
Labels: Bible, life, writing
[0] This is Where You Bite the Sandwich
4:20 AM |
I'm Here, World!
4:20 AM, Tuesday. I'm officially done with my three-day spring [or in this case, summer] cleaning! Now I can finally go back to living. To grading, to backlogs. To writing. But especially living. The world, as you can see, is now mine for the taking. Major psychological hurdle met and grappled with.Labels: life
[0] This is Where You Bite the Sandwich
Monday, May 20, 2024
6:22 PM |
The Month That Has Been
What a month it has been. ‘Twas very busy, but as Lana Narciso just reminded me: “Productive busyness man pud.” There’s that. But I was really glad to be of service to all these events.
Labels: life
[0] This is Where You Bite the Sandwich
Saturday, May 18, 2024
3:13 PM |
‘Challengers’ is Queer Horny
It’s like Luca Guadagnino saw the ending of Alfonso Cuarón’s Y Tu Mamá También (2002) and said, “I’ll take that further.” He knew what exactly he was doing in this Challengers (2024). You can feel every inch of his queer intentions in every frame, in every twist, in every horny look the characters give each other. This is the horniest movie of the year, and should do for tennis what Calvin Klein did for for jeans.
Challengers is the same kind of fever dream that made me write “Pete Sampras’s Neck” back in the day. Tennis is sexy. Tennis is gay.
Labels: fiction, film, life, queer
[0] This is Where You Bite the Sandwich
Friday, May 17, 2024
7:00 PM |
For Culture and the Arts!
I hosted the first day of panels for the
Philippine Music and Culture Summit last Wednesday with Mayumi Maghuyop. Enjoyed it. I thought it would stress me out, but it was the easiest of all my obligations in the past month. It was a breeze. It was also an all-afternoon affair, but I'm glad to have done this for the Silliman University Culture and Arts Council, in the name of cultural work of course.
Labels: art and culture, life, silliman
[0] This is Where You Bite the Sandwich
Wednesday, May 15, 2024
7:00 AM |
Poetry Wednesday, No. 187.
Labels: poetry
[0] This is Where You Bite the Sandwich
Saturday, May 11, 2024
9:10 AM |
The Heritage That Goes Into Sinina Dumagueteña
Tonight, May 11, as part of Dumaguete’s Heritage Month celebration and also its ongoing effort to commemorate the diamond jubilee of its charter, the city took to the runway at the Pantawan People’s Park to showcase Sinina Dumagueteña, the latest iteration of a fashion show that first bowed—to glowing success—last November. I remember that first show well; it was an incredible showcase, not just of elegance and beauty, but also, when done right, of heritage and history. This time around, it helps that modeling the clothes for this edition are the various faces that make up the candidates of Miss Dumaguete Diamond Jubilee Queen, whose crowning moment will come at the end of the month. Saturday night truly became a confluence of two riches—arts and beauty: celebrating a sense of Dumaguete fashion, and a sense of Dumagueteña beauty.
What is Sinina Dumagueteña? It is a conflation, and celebration, of two things—“sinina,” or dress, and “Dumagueteña,” or the fair woman of Dumaguete.
But fashion is not always something we equate with in terms of Dumaguete culture, but we do have a deep heritage for dress-making over the decades, and a treasury of fashion mavens that have helped shape the industry not just locally, but also nationally, and internationally.
Until the 1980s, most homes in Dumaguete had their own in-house sastre. These women, and often men, just sewed the whole day, mending bedsheets, and tablecloths, and curtains, and table napkins, and clothes, and socks. They sewed uniforms and dresses and children’s clothes, and some of them came to be known as the best of Dumaguete’s sastres, like Isabel “Boom” Roxas, Jeanne Ong, Digna Coo, and Tingting Delfin. Some of them opened dressmaking shops that catered to the very discriminating taste of the Dumaguete woman.
Over the years, we’ve also had fashion designers who started out in Dumaguete, and soon came to make their mark in the Manila fashion scene, such as Fred Quimat, Amir Sali, Alexis Monsanto, Rajo Laurel, and Dan Dvran. In the international scene, we have John David Pfeiffer, who has worked for so long as the fashion casting agent for the Victoria’s Secret fashion show and has worked with many designers such as Michael Kors, Vera Wang, and Donna Karan.
Sinina Dumagueteña is an acknowledge of this fashion heritage, as well as a continuation. Last night, we showcased the works of five Dumaguete fashion designers—Anthony Sinco, Maui Lezama, Dan Duran, Larry R. Ybesate, and Tingting Delfin—because together, they create a spectrum of Dumaguete fashion past and present but always forever.
Anthony Sinco was born and raised in Dumaguete. His passion for fashion started with a simple Barbie doll—he simply found joy and creativity in dressing the doll up! His determination to become a fashion designer never wavered despite being bullied for these passions, and for him, the journey was not easy. But he threw himself into every opportunity, participating in school activities and pushing his talents into the spotlight, from local competitions to national ones. A fashion competition in Dumaguete paved the way, and his win rekindled the flame of his ambitions and marked the beginnings of his life as a fashion designer. He pursued vocational courses in dressmaking and tailoring at TESDA, and gained hands-on experience and technical expertise. He attended the Fashion Institute of the Philippines, which embraced his aspirations and propelled him into a world where he could fully express his creativity. His designs began to gain recognition, and soon, he was collecting awards, each one a testament to his dedication and the unique vision. His story is a testament to the power of resilience and the courage to pursue one’s dreams against all odds.
Maui Lezama’s journey into the world of fashion began at four when she discovered her passion for design amidst the bustling atmosphere of her mother's dress shop in San Carlos City, Negros Occidental. Even then, she displayed a keen eye for detail, often requesting the dressmakers to fashion miniature gowns for her beloved Barbie dolls. Despite initially pursuing a degree in BA Psychology at the University of the Philippines Cebu, her heart remained drawn to the world of fashion. She embarked on a second degree at UP Diliman, immersing herself in the intricacies of clothing technology. Though her academic path took unexpected turns, her dedication to her craft never wavered. Continuing her education at FIDA Cebu, under the guidance of a former mentor, she honed her skills and expanded her creative horizons. Maui's talent and perseverance soon garnered recognition on a national scale, with notable achievements such as being named a finalist in Jose Natori's esteemed FDCP Modern Terno Fashion Design Competition in 2014. Her innovative designs, including a sinamay romper adorned by the radiant Jasmine Curtis on a magazine cover, captivated audiences and solidified her reputation as a rising star in the industry. Her journey led her to the vibrant fashion scene of Doha, Qatar, where she lent her expertise as a couture designer in 2019. However, her heart remained rooted in her homeland, and today, she proudly serves clients in Dumaguete and Cebu, crafting exquisite formal wear for special occasions. Maui's contributions extend beyond the realm of fashion. Embracing her role as a custodian of culture, she actively supports the local sinamay industry, infusing her creations with the rich heritage of Negros Oriental. In doing so, she not only celebrates tradition but also empowers local artisans, ensuring the legacy of Filipino craftsmanship endures for generations to come.
A Siaton-based fashion designer and visual artist, Dan Dvran has always been artistic since he was young and initially decided to focus on becoming a visual artist after finishing college. But he was given a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to pursue another passion, fashion design, at the School of Fashion in the Arts on full scholarship. His practice in fashion is experimental draping and creative pattern cutting, a combination that earned him a medal in the first TernoCon. In 2022, he decided to pursue the visual arts again together with fashion. His style in art is defined in expressionist and collage forms and always trying to answer a question in this world.
Larry R. Ybesate is a versatile professional known for his beauty pageant coaching, makeup artistry, and design. His journey began at an early age, while working alongside his skilled seamstress mother, which sparked a lifelong passion for design. Through immersive workshops and hands-on experience, he honed his craft, specializing in creating exquisite evening and bridal gowns that enhance the innate beauty of his clientele. He has served as both a makeup artist and designer for prestigious competitions such as Miss Universe Philippines, Binibining Pilipinas, and Miss Earth, among others. His distinctive designs and creations have graced many events, making him a sought-after designer by local celebrities and personalities.
Finally, there’s the legendary Tingting Delfin! Fashion became a significant part of Tingting’s life in the mid-1970s during the Miss Universe pageant, which was held in the country. His exposure to beautiful dresses during this event, alongside his father who was hosting, sparked his interest. In grade school, he moved to Cebu City, where he participated in art competitions. He spent high school at Foundation University, where he designed the costumes for the dance troupe, as well as his teachers, and later became the founder and choreographer of the Buglasayaw Dance Troupe. After high school, he spent over two years in Manila, working as a fashion illustrator and creating costumes for various events. In the 1990s, he worked as a fashion designer in Cebu City before being invited to join Jean Ong Fashion Studio as in house designer in Dumaguete. He has held multiple roles such as pageant director, choreographer, set designer, make up artist, and more. He has since organized fashion shows such as the back-to-back fashion extravaganzas with Rajo Laurel and Adwin Farajado in 2001, including memorable ones like the 2011 Sinamay Collection at Intramuros Tourism Conference and the 2007 Dumaguete Kasalang Filipino.
These five, and others like Josip Tumapa, Gerry Fernandez, Ritchie Teves, and their ilk, are the continuing evidence Dumaguete always has a strong heritage of design and style.
Labels: dumaguete, fashion
[0] This is Where You Bite the Sandwich
Friday, May 10, 2024
My mood today has been one of simmering anger. Frustration, for one. The uncovering of old wounds for another. There’s also the endlessness of unbearable heat. But I try to keep my cool. If you saw me today, you would never believe I’d been walking around with an edge to my breathing. Late tonight at Bricks Hotel, while I try to check off things on my to-do list, I hear the angry waves of Bohol Sea bashing at the Rizal Boulevard. I could empathize with its wrath.
“It’s a windy night,” I tell Glenn the waiter.
“Yeah,” he agreed.
But I don’t feel the wind at all, not on my sun-drenched skin. But the waves I do hear, a raging howl that feels uncanny. Sometimes anger is like that: it can be diffused and loud, but I don’t feel it at all except as the low-key simmering of things.
Labels: life
[0] This is Where You Bite the Sandwich
Thursday, May 09, 2024
6:03 PM |
Spicy Throwback
In 2005, I designed this cookbook for Cecilia Helen Bruce's
A Touch of Spice, published by Village Books in Dumaguete, and covering a wide variety of South Asian cuisine. It won a prize at a culinary competition in Europe [I forget which]. This was my first time working on a cookbook, and it proved to be a vast learning challenge for me, design-wise. I lost my only copy to termites though. [Sad.]
Labels: books, culinary heritage, dumaguete, food
[0] This is Where You Bite the Sandwich
Wednesday, May 08, 2024
7:00 AM |
Poetry Wednesday, No. 186.
Labels: philippine literature, poetry
[0] This is Where You Bite the Sandwich
Saturday, May 04, 2024
10:39 PM |
The Writer in the Margins Making Waves
Talk delivered to SIKAP—Creative Content Creators Association of the Philippines, Inc.’s AYO Creative IP Showcase and Content Market for Philippine Creators, Sierra Hotel, Dumaguete City, 4 May 2024.
I met Marla De Castro-Rausch last year when she was in Dumaguete and I was giving a tour to her and a bunch of other people in the first-ever Art Tour of Dumaguete City, spearheaded by DTI Negros Oriental. We took them around the city’s various art galleries and museums, most of which sprang almost miraculously from pandemic conditions, which did paint Dumaguete as a thriving creative hub that can withstand challenges. Marla was in Dumaguete to scout the city, hoping it could be a possible host for SIKAP—Creative Content Creators Association of the Philippines, Inc.’s AYO Creative IP Showcase and Content Market for Philippine Creators. I would not know that a year later, she would invite me to the same creative summit, this time around as a Dumaguete writer mapping out his creative journey—with the theme of “making waves.”
I thought about that invitation, and I knew that the only way I could find my own creative journey resembling the metaphor of “making waves” is situating myself as a writer in a specific context: that of one who labors and pursues his creativity in the so-called “margins,” far from the privileges and opportunities of big cities like Manila or Cebu. I wanted to talk about that decision I made years ago to stay in Dumaguete, and I wanted to find out if that decision indeed enabled me to “make waves” even when I was far from the usual centers of creative industries. Let me start from the very beginning of my writerly dreams…
When I was in high school, and then in college, I used to go to the Filipiniana section of the Silliman University Library. There, I’d peruse the ten volumes that made up the 1994 Cultural Center of the Philippines’ Encyclopedia of Philippine Art, especially the Literature volume, and I’d go over the names of the writers enshrined on its hallowed pages. Some of them were Dumaguete writers like Edith Tiempo, and Edilberto Tiempo, and Cesar Ruiz Aquino. I was only beginning to be aware that I had talent to share writing-wise and wanted to be like them, and I was also only beginning to be aware that there were such people as “writers” who lived in the small city that I also happened to live in. I thought then: how far they had come, how they’d made waves in Philippine literature, and they were in Dumaguete! I thought then that someday, somehow, I too could reach that same dream, to be in this encyclopedia.
In high school, I was passionate about two creative pursuits: visual arts and literary arts. I was the class artist, and I usually supervised [and made] many of the artistic projects of my high school batch. Everybody knew me as someone who loved to draw, and who loved to paint. But I was also the editor-in-chief of The Junior Sillimanian, and I was already beginning to churn little stories that found their way into the pages of the school organ. After high school graduation and before I entered college, somebody reminded me that the arts was an impatient master—and that if I wanted to master any one of them, I had to choose one and concentrate on just one.
Did I want to pursue visual arts?
Did I want to pursue writing?
I made a fateful decision: I chose to enroll in Physical Therapy instead.
PT just so happened to be the newest course [and craze] at Silliman University in 1994, and I found myself following most of my high school friends flocking to that new department—with this vague idea of someday going to the United States to earn big bucks working as physical therapists. I wanted to pursue the arts, but I was very much persuaded to pursue what I was told was “practicality.”
That dance with PT did not last. I lasted all of three years—and one day, I found myself on hospital duty and it was so miserable that I had a crisis of dreams: did I really see myself working in the hospital for the rest of my life? The answer was no. So I shifted quickly to Mass Communication—which still involved a lot of writing, but more on the practical side of journalism.
Thus began my slow drifting into writing, and my slow realization that I was making a vital decision regarding this pursuit: I wanted to prove that I could become a writer while staying in Dumaguete. I remember once this survey a national magazine once made of important Filipino artists, asking them the question: What makes you stay in the Philippines? The Tiempos, Edith and Edilberto, had a simple response: “The shoreline of Dumaguete.”
I understand where they were coming from. In unguarded moments where you find yourself musing at the Rizal Boulevard or some other Dumaguete landmark, you do get this profound understanding why you have chosen to live in this place, and why you’ve chosen to stay.
Dumaguete is a safe haven.
But we also know that “safe havens” do not necessarily produce good things. The conventional wisdom tells us that if you want to grow, you have to “leave your safe harbors,” go to other places, become who you are destined to be from the experiences you will encounter in your journey. I know many of my college classmates who followed exactly that route: one is now a vice president at GMA Television, one is now a novelist in Australia, one is now a journalist for Al Jazeera. I suppose they have fulfilled their dreams, and I know they have journeyed so long to reach them.
But I chose to stay.
Could I make waves as a writer in Dumaguete?
In 1997, I published my first “real” short story in a literary folio, like most young writers do. In 1999, I was already contributing feature stories to national periodicals like Sunday Inquirer Magazine, always with Dumaguete goings-on as my subject. [Because what else?] In the early 2000s, however, I was mostly known as a literary webmaster. Around that time, mostly due to having too much time in my hands [and of course having a deep well of youthful vigor and imagination], I had constructed a website I named A Critical Survey of Philippine Literature, on Geocities. At that time, it was the biggest repository of everything Philippine literature, containing not just literary texts, but also literary news, as well as an archive of literary awards. It was a huge hit. That was how I somehow made my entrance into the circles of Philippine literature—not as a writer but as a passionate online compiler.
Still, I was already churning out my early stories, most of which were published on the Philippines Free Press. But it was also a dark time for me. Mentally, I was depressed because I had no idea what I was going to do with the rest of my life. Was writing really for me? Will I succeed? Did I make the wrong decision about staying in Dumaguete? Then I heard some people I knew back then talking about the dire straits of the creative writing scene in Dumaguete—and how most of Dumaguete’s writers were abandoning it in favor of Davao. Someone asked: “Who will be the only writer left in Dumaguete?” Another person suggested: “What about Ian?” Apparently derisive laughter greeted that suggestion of my name.
This plunged me into a deep depression.
But I had one hope of reprieve—enough, I thought, to give me some validation. And it happened! In 2002, that year which started so darkly for me, I won my first Palanca Award for the short story, “Old Movies.” It was an instance that gave me hope, that perhaps I was on the right path no matter what other people opined to be my literary future. I would win again the next year, and I would win several more in the coming years. But “Old Movies” was the story that opened a lot of literary opportunities for me: this was the story that also had me becoming translated to another language for the first time, in French. This story also compelled me to undertake an anthology project. Thus my first book was actually not a book with my name as sole author: it was an anthology, titled Future Shock: An Anthology of Young Writers and New Literatures, which was really a way for me to introduce myself to other writers. That anthology, published by Silliman, surprisingly garnered a finalist nod for Best Anthology at the Manila Critics Circle’s National Book Awards. Not bad for a writer still starting out.
In the meantime, in the 2000s, I plunged into what was expected of me as a budding writer: I attended all the major national writers workshops—Silliman’s, Iligan’s, and the University of the Philippines’. [At the time these were the only major ones.] I also began publishing beyond just in magazines: in 2005, the Cultural Center of the Philippines granted me the privilege of having my first chapbook of stories published in the Ubod Series. In 2010, I was the Philippine representative to the prestigious International Writing Program at the University of Iowa, and by the time I came back to the Philippines, I was ready to pursue creative writing in a more serious light. I was made the founding coordinator of the Edilberto and Edith Tiempo Creative Writing Center, and by 2012, I had published my first two, full-fledged, collections of short stories: Beautiful Accidents, which came out of the University of the Philippines Press, and Heartbreak and Magic, which came out of Anvil Publishing.
I would publish several more books from assorted publishers in the coming years—but I took note of two things. First, influenced by my writing mentors Rosario Cruz Lucero and Timothy Montes, I began writing stories set in Dumaguete and other places in Negros Oriental, in the interest of battling cultural amnesia [Lucero’s influence] and helping build an idea of Philippine literature as something done city by city, and town by town [Montes’ influence].
Second, I noticed that a lot of my writing efforts was now geared towards writing about the cultural and historical heritage of Dumaguete City. From this vein, I have produced a political biography, a coffee table book about Silliman’s art and cultural heritage, a collection of stories of a forgotten Dumaguete writer, and a series of books compiling the history and heritage of Dumaguete under the rubric of Hugkat Journal. Currently, I am working on an anthology of literary works set in Dumaguete and Negros Oriental, and also a general literary historiography of the province. There are so much I want to do and accomplish.
So what have I learned as a writer striving to make waves from the margins?
First, that Manila is really, and undeniably, the center of culture and the arts in the Philippines, and writers and artists who live there are truly privileged. They have the festivals, the museums, the galleries, the libraries, the publishing houses, the agencies. For artists and various creatives in the regional margins to take part in that actually means a considerable investment. [Plane tickets and hotels cost money!] There was actually a time in my writing career that whenever I got published by a national publication, the only way I was told I could get my check was to go to the offices of their cashiers—an impossibility if you lived far away from Manila. I’m sure I never collected the majority of my checks when I was publishing consistently in the 2000s. This has changed today, but it does prove the point that for the longest time, being a creative away from Manila did not pay at all.
Second, that the writers in “the margins” can actually “make waves” by staying true to the place where they are from—and this can become their unique identity, and their ticket to “relevance.” I’m known as a Dumaguete writer first and foremost, so I am always in the radar of people who want something written about the place, or want to do a project connected to Dumaguete.
And third, that the writers in the margins can “make waves” by raising the profile of the places where they are from. In Dumaguete, we have this dream of becoming a UNESCO City of Literature. We’re still trying to meet all the criteria, but we have already established many literary activities that would constitute a vibrant creative industry in the name of writing and publishing. Aside from already having Asia’s oldest creative writing workshop here, we are also doing such events as regular litera-tours, which can be a boon to tourism; and holding the first Dumaguete Literary Festival this year, which we hope to grow to have better international notice. There’s also establishing a vibrant publishing scene, and an active translation scene, among others. These days, I don’t feel alone in dreaming of this. There’s an army now in Dumaguete willing to go the distance to achieve this UNESCO status.
In the final analysis, this is my realization: the “margin” is really real, but it is also an illusion. You “make waves” creatively from wherever you are, even if it is far away from centers of creative industries, as long as you are persistent with your work and are adamant about the quality of what you create.
And remember my high school dream of making it to the CCP Encyclopedia of Philippine Art? In the newest edition published in 2018, I’m finally there in the contents of the Literature volume, proving that waves do happen for artists who persist, even if they have chosen to stay in their safe havens.
Labels: creative business, creativity, life, philippine literature, writing
[0] This is Where You Bite the Sandwich
Thursday, May 02, 2024
1:16 PM |
National Heritage Month 2024 in Dumaguete, at a Glance
If you only know how many writers, visual artists, musicians, dancers, filmmakers, cultural workers, and various creatives from all over the Philippines has been and will be in Dumaguete in the next few weeks, your jaw will drop. The Dumaguete Literary Festival just ended, but AYO is about to begin! And then in a few days, the NCC Film Summit! And then in a few weeks, the Philippine Culture and Music Summit with no less than two National Artists in attendance!
Magbaha og culture sa Dumaguete this May.
Labels: art and culture, dumaguete, heritage
[0] This is Where You Bite the Sandwich
Wednesday, May 01, 2024
7:00 AM |
Poetry Wednesday, No. 185. In Celebration of Labor Day!
[0] This is Where You Bite the Sandwich
GO TO OLDER POSTS
GO TO NEWER POSTS