Exploring the past, present and future at MCAD

TEXT AND PHOTOS 

BY CARMELA G. LAPEÑA, 

GMA NEWS June 4, 2012 

Along Pablo Ocampo Street in Manila, a large white building towers over the dirty city. Outside, pedestrians play patintero in the traffic, dodging pedicabs and vendors with their karitons overflowing with ripe fruit and dusty vegetables. The street is littered with discarded barbecue sticks, and the air smells like fried food. A wide ramp leads to the De La Salle-College of Saint Benilde School of Design and Arts Campus, which houses the Museum of Contemporary Art and Design on the ground floor.

 

Step inside the museum and everything changes. It's as if the world were put on mute, all the colors erased. About two weeks ago, the vast space was empty except for a large frame of what would become a roof installation. Apart from that, the white walls and gray floor were all there was to see.

 

"We want you to see the process," explained MCAD's director and curator Joselina Cruz during a lunch with the press on May 17.

 

On May 26, the museum opened "There Can Be No Better World," its first exhibition for the year. The show features three major installations from artists around the region, and although the number might seem small, there's plenty to see in "There Can Be No Better World."

 

"The future is always a creative enterprise, for we can only but imagine what it will bring and what it will look like. The exhibition ‘There Can Be No Better World’ is a response to the worlds of past, present and future, as it insists that each period be the space-time to satisfy us and our longings for contentment," the exhibit notes read.

 

The works

 

On the ground floor is Tiffany Chung's roof and glass turtles installation "twigs, bones, rocks and the Giant Tortoise." Next to the installation, two videos play simultaneously on different screens: "the great simplicity" and "thousands of years before and after."

 

The massive piece imagines the end of the world—the artist answers the question, "What happens after the collapse of modern society?" 

 

Here, the roof is all that is left of a house. The viewer can fill in the blanks and try to picture the people who might have found shelter there before. On top of the roof, hundreds of tiny glass turtles. From afar, they look like melting snow.
 

Hundreds of tiny glass turtles on Tiffany Chung's roof installation.

 

In "thousands of years before and after," the last group of humans wanders in search of a dwelling place and means of surviving. In "the great simplicity," a mutated, simple dialect derived from English becomes the common language. In one video, we see blue skies, blades of grass swaying with the wind. In the other, we see stones, cement and glass. 

 

"When great human achievements of art, science and technology have resulted in ruins, simplicity is the key for survival. The end of humankind is similar to its beginning," Chung explains in the exhibit notes.

 

"Derived from my research on the decline of towns and cities due to deindustrialization and demographic changes, this project explores issues in urban progress and the complex relationship between human and nature and examines the aftermath of colonization and modernization. Using semiotics, biblical references as well as references from Kurt Vonnegut’s Galápagos and the actual Galápagos Archipelago, the work encompasses human destruction and transformation not only in just spatial terms," says Chung, who was born in Vietnam and lived in the US for several years.
 

Tiffany Chung's roof and glass turtles installation "twigs, bones, rocks and the Giant Tortoise."

 

On the walls are a series of linework pieces, Michael Lee's "Dwelling." The minimalist floor plans hang with no explanation next to them, and it is not immediately clear what they are. Lee shares that they are sometimes mistaken for circuit boards, which he likes. 

 

Lee explains that one of the reasons he compiled the titles instead of placing them next to each canvas is so that he doesn't make it too easy for the audience. "It frustrates me when the audience looks at the work, and then they feel happy because they have understood everything. I like something a bit more nuanced in a way, rather than something that is very certain of itself," he says.

 

Lee adds there are at least 10 ways for architects to represent and explore spaces, but in "Dwellings," he commemorates old buildings with their floor plans. 

 

"Not many people other than the architect would have memory or access to the floor plans," he says, adding that the floor plan has an association with nature, as it offers a bird's eye view. "I wanted to play with this relationship between horizontal and vertical, because when this thing which exists in reality horizontally becomes hung on the wall, it means that people are flying," he says.

 

In "Dwellings," Lee presents an archive of architectures loosely connected to the 80s, a decade of major social, economic, political and cultural changes. The centerpiece of the installation refers to the demolished Benguet Center in Mandaluyong, Metro Manila. 

 

"I have a feeling that Benguet Center is a little bit similar to the case of the National Theater in Singapore which was built in the 60s and demolished in the 80s. Both of them have very strong modernist design. As with anything, there is an expiry date," says Lee.
 

Michael Lee commemorates the Benguet Center in "Dwellings."

 

Also included in the global survey are New York's destroyed 3WTC, Taipei's abandoned Sanzhi Pod City, and the yet-to-be-built Singapore Cloud Forest Center. The artist uses a 1:50 scale for all the floor plans, so that the sizes of his pieces depend on the sizes of the buildings.

 

"By fixing the scale I end up creating this system where I cannot use my whims and fancy to say, 'Oh I have no more canvases so maybe I'll make a smaller one,’" he says.

 

By reducing the buildings to pure linework, Lee allows the viewer to imagine what was, what no longer is, and what could have been. "I'm not interested so much in perpetuating nostalgia, but trying to facilitate imaginative memory," he says.

 

At the mezzanine is Felix Bacolor's stripped down installation "Waiting." Inspired by Samuel Beckett's "Waiting for Godot," the virtual stage design simulates a waiting room, where nothing will arrive. In the space occupied by rows of cold lounge chairs, time is the only thing that moves. 
 

Felix Bacolor's stripped down installation "Waiting."

 

"Bacolor has transposed Beckett's theater into a site made precisely so people can lose themselves in the act of waiting. Clocks count to the second and the waiting creates a sense of urgency, literally making us count to the second. For Bacolor, the future is always here, or something we're always expecting but never arrives," the exhibit notes end. –KG, GMA News

 

"There Can Be No Better World" runs at the Museum of Contemporary Art and Design from May 26 to August 18

Old yarns made new.

BusinessWorld (Philippines) 
February 22, 2012 

By Sam L. Marcelo

Fabrications is the first exhibition curated by Joselina "Yeyey" Cruz, who assumed the directorship of the Museum of Contemporary Art and Design (MCAD) late last year. It gathers nine Asian artists - seven Filipinos, one Thai, and one Singaporean - who work around "the conceptual nature of skin and cover."
Unlike group shows that are held together by the most tenuous of threads, Fabrications is tightly focused. A casual visitor who wanders into the first floor will understand, even without benefit of text, Ms. Cruz's intentions of assembling old works by Patricia Eustaquio, Bea Camacho, Imhathai Suwatthanasilp and Alfredo and Isabel Aquilizan, among others.

Crocheted sculptures made from lace (Ms. Eustaquio) and hair (Ms. Suwatthanasilp) converse with an 11-hour video of Ms. Camacho knitting herself into a cocoon and pink baby sweaters draped into vaginal forms by the Aquilizans. Here, then, is a dialog on contemporary art made by hooks and needles, yarn and thread.
When group shows do succeed, it's usually because participants create new work according to parameters set by the curator. Not so with Fabrications, wherein the only piece specifically made for the exhibition is Sandra Palomar's Bleed Suite, a delicate curtain tinged with blood from the artist's own body and from beasts.

Ms. Cruz recontextualizes objects already seen and presents them from a point of view that is clear, coherent and separate from the artists' original intentions. In a sense, the curator alerts …

An Eye For New Art

By Natalia F. Diaz

In contrast to the stillness of the Lopez Museum, with its aged treasures and historical documents, is its independent curator Yeyey Cruz's youthful energy and insatiable curiosity for fresh ideas. Cruz confesses to being talkative by nature, revealing an uninhibited eloquence when expressing thoughts on art works that have inspired her. 

Though she would be the first to admit that she can neither "paint nor create", Yeyey's life has been shaped by a lifelong passion for art. After taking several courses in Philippine Art History at the University of the Philippines, she landed her first job as an education assistant at the Metropolitan Museum. One day, she had the chance to view a particular work by German contemporary artist Joseph Beuys, which the museum had brought in. "That was my turning point that peaked my interest in contemporary art," she shares. "It was the turning point of having an art work looking back at you." 

Yeyey pursued her MA in Curating at the very exclusive Royal College of Art in London, where she was the only Filipino in a small, select class of mostly European students. It was here where she explored several aspects of contemporary art, being part of a progressive academe that encouraged their students to travel to different parts of the world to study works of various artists. They were even funded by the school to put up their own student exhibits in a city of their choice. 

In spite of being immersed in an environment that placed her at the forefront of the ever-evolving art scene, Yeyey decided to come back to Manila, unarguably a periphery in the global art landscape. "I guess it was this great wish to share what I had experienced and learned with more people," she explains. Though she admits to being idealistic then, she shrugs off the hackneyed conclusion that she came back in the hopes of changing the local art scene. "I don't think I can change the art scene, no once can--or at least not one person can. Change can only be prompted by a unique desire to engage with the artists who are the makers, the people who see it, and the patrons who make things possible with the society we all move in with a history we can continue to grapple with." She still carried that vision today as the Curatorial Consultant for the Lopez Museum, busying herself with managing the treasures of the Lopez Collection, as well as conceptualizing exhibits for the museum. "Museums are a repository of memories, but they're very static," she says. "I'm more into bringing society into the museum, of bringing the museum out. We have to bring audiences to view new art." For the Lopez Museum, she has worked with dynamic young artists like Nona Garcia, Norberto Roldan and Kawayan de Guia on their exhibits. 

Outside the museum, Yeyey collaborates with other gifted local artists to come up with innovative shows for the viewing public. She worked Freddie Aquilizan for Dream Blankets Spin show at the CCP. The exhibit was inspired by the ethnic T'boli tribe that weaves their blanket designs according to what they behold in dreams. For the show, the artist created a wall of folded blankets and played collected voices of different people narrating their dreams, heard in the background through concealed speakers. 

Yeyey does not deny that she has endured criticisms for some of their work, yet she doesn't mind them, adding, "That is what art is supposed to get--a reaction." She does disclose a genuine wish for more people in Manila to be more open to new art media such as video, which is not yet fully explored in the local art sphere. "It's sad that some people are not able to see the deeper level of some of the works." 

In spite of the challenges, Yeyey remains optimistic, preserving an inspired outlook in pushing the creative process beyond the borders. "work, whatever it is, shapes all of us," she adds, "I think it helps me spiritually knowing that some of the art I appreciate actually seeks some good, some change in the world." 

From the Sunday Inquirer Magazine, 03/17/02

Stories From A Recent Hanging

by Yeyey Cruz

Roberto M. Lopez's stint as director, until his death in 1992, spawned activity that shifted the focus from the library-whose reputation as the research center for Filipiniana in Asia continued unchallenged-to the art collection. During Robby Lopez's time, art books were published that would further the museum's engagement with their weighty collection.

Robby's interest in art went beyond his directorship for the museum; he begun his own personal art collection, the bulk of which the museum received upon the death in 1992. Robby's collection was of course dictated by personal taste and passion; thus the museum, whose identity had relied on the 19th century masters, was besieged with a barrage of modern works. While Eugenio Lopez, Sr., Robby's father, had in fact bought a motley assortment of modern works (early Manansalas, Amorsolos, some Tabuenas, most of the Macario Vitalis and all the Nena Saguils) during his time, the gesture was more cursory than deliberate.

Selections for the new hang continues and new paneling is being built to contain the works. 'That's an AAP winner, 1961. First Prize'. Mariles Ebro-Matias, current Lopez Museum Director, informs me. I have only been in the museum for a week, and the ins and outs of the collection is still quite foreign. The AAP winner she is referring to is Orange Land (1961) by Roberto Chabet. The moment is curious as the work is very unlike Chabet, but the fact remains that he had actually been singled out in 1961 for a prize, perhaps an incident he might not have cared for then nor wish to remember now. But despite himself, the artist by his work (at least those which are not ephemeral) becomes conveniently located in art history and consequently marks his own evolution. This is the point where museum collections come in and work towards studying the development of the artist, first using the specificity of the work, and then from there the possible extrapolation into art historical context, whether local or international.

The collection's depth is actually surprising still, despite my having been there for some months. The acquisitions these past five years sheds light on the personalities behind the purchases and the interstices within art history which the museum is obviously eager to fill in. there are, for example, works by former Cultural Center of the Philippines (CCP) head, Ray Albano. Eager to explore new ways for art, Albano backed many exhibitions at the CCP which were conceptual in nature, as well as allocated space for installation work. These were done during his tenure at the CCP in the 70s. His works in the collection, Uva (1979) and Where will you be today? (1982), purchased in 1997 are representative of Albano's concern for other modes of representing reality within the confines of visual language. Though still not his experimental work using found objects and constructed images not overly his concern about process, the works already signal that he had found images wanting. Instead of references, one is faced instead with a different course into the sublime. And even then his sublime concedes interference from subtle linearity.

Despite the fact that personal taste dictated past purchase, a private collection that has gone public will itself answerable, to a certain extent, to a public. The museum's direction undoubtedly shifted with Robby's gift. Acquisitions is not a simple matter, but a concerned effort to maintain a balance between the publics' preference and the collector's own decisions. Acquisitions is also not mere accumulation: it is a process of selection in keeping with the institution's objectives and vision, with the dictates of art history and its own becoming. Michael Compton asks about the Tate Gallery, 'should the Tate be building up a classic collection, rather like the National Gallery? Or should it be leading taste, introducing the public to the latest developments?? Such problems are of course ubiquitous-every public gallery has to square the competing demands of critics and scholars, of artists clamoring to get their work hung?'While the Lopez Museum continues to work out its own acquisitions policy, keeping in mind the particular issues that locate the museum, the late Geny Lopez had gone the direction of modernity by aggressively buying modern and contemporary works. A course which Oscar Lopez seems to have taken up more firmly, especially with the recent inclusion of two Alfonso Ossorios into the collection.

Matias approves of a line of Roberto Chabet's colorful, Four Directions (1999) together with Navarro's white piece, Untitled (1975). The juxtaposition opens up an interesting conversation between the two pieces. Navarro known for color is represented with a white work, while Chabet, known for his conceptual works, decides on blocks of color with each canvas interrupted by a harmonica. The works balance off well, whilst the noise of their historical developments continue undeterred in the background. As Roger Malbert writes about the delightful juxtapositions that come about when putting together an exhibition and letting it loose on public: 'A certain cautious informality is in fact a hidden feature of most exhibitions of art, other than those prescribed by chronology or other logical considerations. The 'hang', the installation, is the moment of necessary spontaneity, where unforeseen effects are produced as soon as objects are positioned in space. It is a version of the creative process, speculative and personal. Then, when the arrangement is settled and declared to be definitive (it cannot be bettered), art becomes public, like thoughts committed to paper-and is exposed to the critical gaze.' 

Oscar Lopez affirms that the art collection will soon parallel the library's contents in the next decade, fully aware that acquisitions run not only the voice of history but alongside those who are creating it. The passion for collecting is full-time job, a kind of blessed obsession as Stephen Gould writes in the fascinating book Finder, Keepers. But in many ways the passion, the obsession, of collecting becomes a burden shared, 'to bring part of a limitless diversity into an orbit of personal or public appreciation.' The Lopez Museum does the latter, conscious that the cost of engagement is high, but willing nevertheless, to take part in the discussion.

Adapted: BluPrint Magazine, Volume 4/6 2000. Stories From A Recent Hanging by Yeyey Cruz

NOTE: The author was curator of the Lopez Museum.

All The Best

The Deutsche Bank Collection 
And Zaha Hadid

Curators

• Dr Ariane Grigoteit
  Director Deutsche Bank Art
  
• Joselina Cruz
  Singapore Art Museum

After its great success at the Deutsche Guggenheim in Berlin and the Hara Museum in Tokyo, the anniversary show of the Deutsche Bank Collection is now making a guest appearance at the Singapore Art Museum (SAM) from September 1 until November 20, 2006.

And it’s here that “All the Best – The Deutsche Bank Collection and Zaha Hadid,” the trilogy of exhibitions started two years ago in celebration of the twenty-fifth anniversary of the Deutsche Bank Collection, experiences its spectacular culmination on the series’ last station at the renowned Singapore Art Museum. Parallel to “All the Best,” the Singapore Biennale will also be opening for the first time – as the cultural climax of the event series “Singapore 2006” held in celebration of the 2006 Annual Meetings of the International Monetary Fund (IMF) and the World Bank Group. 

In this context, the two events form an ambitious platform for a dialogue between international contemporary art and current art trends in Southeast Asia. Imbedded in the visionary exhibition space developed specifically for the show by London-based star architect Zaha Hadid, “All the Best” is a multi-layered spectacular “Work of Art”; incorporating over 150 works from the twentieth and twenty-first centuries, it illustrates the history of the corporate collection and artistic positions spanning 50 years.  

Deutsche Bank’s commitment to contemporary art has set standards internationally. The Deutsche Bank Collection, which was founded in 1979 and has been growing ever since, can be seen in the bank’s offices throughout the world – in accordance with the motto “art at the workplace.” Its thrust is twofold: to provide stimulation and to pose a challenge. Today, it is the largest corporate collection worldwide and encompasses approximately 50,000 works.

The selection made for “All the Best” by Dr. Ariane Grigoteit, director of Deutsche Bank Art, and Joselina Cruz, curator at SAM, focuses on the media paper and photography and documents recent and current trends on the international art scene.

Following the anniversary shows celebrating 25 years of the Deutsche Bank Collection in Berlin and Tokyo, it is a particular honor for Deutsche Bank Art to cooperate with Hadid for the third time for “All the Best” at the Singapore Art Museum (SAM). The revolutionary idea of the collection – to present art in the unusual environment of the workplace – is reflected in an architecture of contrasts. The colonial neo-classical building of the former boys’ school that today houses SAM is juxtaposed with gigantic, flowing technoid shapes.
Flanked by greats like Joseph Beuys, Eva Hesse, and Bruce Nauman, it is mainly the works of subsequent generations and recent acquisitions that determine the character of the collection. 

Whereas contemporary German art is represented by the likes of Martin Kippenberger, Wolfgang Tillmans, and Gregor Schneider, the focus here lies on the collection’s global orientation. Thus, “All the Best” shows recent works from the US, Mexico, Great Britain, South Africa, Russia, and Asian countries. Apart from works by Francis Alys, Laura Owens, and watercolors by Turner-Prize winner Chris Ofili, the show includes works on paper by Richard Artschwager, William Kentridge, and the Chinese art star Yan Pei Ming that have never before been shown in public. In addition, various currents in international photography can be experienced with the staged photographs of Sharon Lockhart and Miwa Yanagi as well as with Boris Mikhailov’s stark images of a new Russia.

FEU Swimming Team

From Left: Ressie Neric (2nd), Jean Belzer (3rd), Lulu Trinidad (6th), Violeta Neric (7th), and Lourdes de Leon.(10th)

Front Row: From Left, Haydee Coloso, Cora de Leon (5th), Linda Trinidad (6th), Gertrudes Lozada (7th), Vicky Cullen (8th), Ressie Neric (11th), Lourdes de Leon (14th).  Back Row: Bobby Cullen (4th), Teddy Neric (5th), Dolly Alforte (10th), Fedy Cruz (11th) , Wayne Rocha (16th).

New Member

By Ma. Joselina G. Cruz

In the year 1970, my parents received their first blessing, me.  In 1971 there came my brother Miguel, then my younger sister Carina in 1973.  We were then five in the family, counting my mom and dad.  However, the peaceful state lasted only ten years.  On July 1, 1983, my baby brother Martin came to this world.  I don’t know why; maybe it was to wreck our whole house, or particularly to redecorate my room and my parents’ room.  I don’t know.  But I’m glad he is a member of my family.  He is a bundle of fun (not counting a dynamite of disaster) and a joy to everyone in our house, especially to my grandparents, who are so proud of him.  They are always very happy to introduce to visitors and friends my brother Martin and his antics.

            I am the proud big sister of my brother.  He is now one year old and he is one of the naughtiest I have ever seen.  I think he is quite intelligent for his age.  He is also very brave, considering the things he had to go through.  You see, he had a cataract in his left eye when he was born, so he had to have it removed, and the lens replaced with a new one – through operations – three of them, to be exact.  He’s fine now but has to go to the doctor occasionally for a check-up.

            Despite the traumatic experience, he is one of the most active babies alive, and does he talk a lot!  He can say the names of everyone in the house, as well as the names of all our relatives.  He can sing, not that it sounds like singing since it’s more of reciting, and he can say thank you in three languages, including English.  He goes to the bathroom by himself whenever he feels the need to use the toilet and waits until someone brings him inside, and can even tell when our TV and betamax have to be brought to a repair shop.  He has a taste for shoes, slaps anyone whom he sees crying, and knows when to laugh at jokes even if they are corny.  He is really a very lovable child.  Except when he decides to play in my room and turn it into a junkshop.  Nevertheless, he is one of the most interesting people I know who make my life much more bearable to go through.

p. 28 Young Hearts and Voices by High School Scholasticans. 1984-85: Cynthia Rueda, Sr. Lucy Togle OSB (editors)

Copyright1985 by St. Scholastica’s College