Exhibitions

How does a nation find itself? The most obvious answer is that it finds meaning in its identity—and this identity is derived from a shared history. The Philippines is, in many ways, an artificial nation whose boundaries were drawn by colonizers in the Age of Discovery. As a people then, Filipinos have always been bound by a sense of justice that came with independence and freedom. “I prefer a government run like hell by Filipinos to one run like heaven by Americans,” said Manuel Quezon during the American colonial era. This idea runs in line with what was posited by historian Renato Constantino—that the only true Filipino is a decolonized Filipino. By shedding the mantle of servitude to a far-away state, we cease becoming their subjects and stand as our own people, with our own identity as a nation.

This narrative is seemingly straightforward, with the antagonist being the colonizers who would derive us of our place as a free nation among nations. But the tragedy of the Philippines is that our history is peppered with stories of Filipinos fighting Filipinos to the benefit of our external enemies. The film Heneral Luna summed it up succinctly: we are often our own worst enemy. This unfortunate historical fact has perhaps contributed to a sort of national amnesia—a tendency to forget about the lessons of history, which leads to a domino effect on how we perceive ourselves, our culture, and our society.

What drives artist Juanito Torres, then, is the need for Filipinos to confront their past. His paintings reveal the artist’s search for the truth behind the story of the Philippine nation, and in the process we discover new realities about ourselves. Torres uses historical events as springboards to parse out the truths from the constructed “histories” we are taught in school. He then injects surrealist imagery and aesthetics to emphasize the mythologies Filipinos have built around the history, and laces them with a scathing awareness of how the efforts of historians, screenwriters, politicians, and the masses have appropriated, re-appropriated, and recycled Philippine heroes for whatever purposes they may serve. Juanito Torres’ paintings become meta-narratives in defining what it means to be a Filipino.

In Juanito Torres’ work is a flair for drama and an eye for cinematic action. This is certainly not surprising considering that the artist worked in the film industry after graduating from the College of Fine Arts of the University of the Philippines. Torres has always been the creative sort. Sensitive and soft-spoken, Torres grew up in the countryside and still prefers the environs of his home province of Bulacan to the hustle and bustle of the city. “To wake up in the morning with fresh air, the view of the fields, with my pet dogs and poultry all around is the life I have always wanted to have,” he says. But living in Bulacan, a province where the first capital of an independent Philippines was located (Malolos), was to leave an effect on the talented young artist.

Juanito Torres is first and foremost a contemporary artist. He went to high school at the Philippine High School for the Arts—a school that also educated the likes of Leeroy New and Don Salubayba. His practice is built on a consideration of concept, which he received in a UP Fine Arts program that was influenced by the mind of Bobby Chabet. But Torres is also an ardent Filipino—and while his peers examined contemporary issues from the lens of sociology, Torres chose to dig deeper.

What he found was the tendency to mythologize aspects of history as explanation to modern perceptions, behaviors, and beliefs. Through this, he realized that Philippine history revolves around us and touches our lives in ways that we often take for granted. He also realized that we build our own heroes according to what we require and need.

The imagery in a work like “Kalayaan” blurs these aspects, simultaneously displaying famous imagery from the past with allegorical visual cues. National hero Jose Rizal is executed in Luneta field, and from written descriptions, we know he turned at the last minute to bravely face the execution squad as they fired a volley. This is depicted in the painting as a dance-like turn, as Rizal himself transforms into a bird to fly into freedom. The soldiers have native brooms instead of guns, alluding to the idea that we “kill our own heroes” so to speak. But we see these heroes in the sky, pointing the path towards freedom, as new heroes are waiting in the bird cages on the ground.

The painting is a characteristic work from Torres—well-researched, haunting, surreal, technically-astute, and an invaluable entry point into Philippine history, culture, and society. It is part of a new series of works that will be exhibited at Galerie Joaquin on Thursday, December 3, 6 p.m. and runs until Tuesday, December 17, together with the piece de resistance, the seminal Torres artwork “Icons and Superheroes” exploring who the Filipinos’ heroes are: Rizal, the unknown soldier katipunero, the nameless general, the Marian image, San Miguel, the nameless OFW, and of course, Superman, Spiderman and Batman. Other works include “Escrima”, “Heroes and Villains”, “The Betrayal”, “Buko”, “Katipunero”, among others. Titled Icons and Superheroes, the exhibition is Juanito Torres’ 3rd one-man show, and charts the development of his place as the foremost historical painter in the country. A 2005 Metrobank Art and Design Excellence Finalist, Torres’ works are part of permanent collections of major museums in the country including the Museum of the Katipunan in San Juan City, the Miguel Malvar Museum in Batangas, the Pinto Museum in Antipolo and the forthcoming Luna Museum of the National Historical Commission.

Galerie Joaquin is located at 371 P. Guevarra Street, Addition Hills, San Juan. For more information, please call (632) 723-9418, or visit www.galeriejoaquin.com