ART ︎ Exhibit notes ︎

2019  ︎here, in recognition of the fluidity of memory, delivering the visible representations of her own narratives to the viewers, a consciousness of what story she wants to tell.1 ︎ They are all meant to limit the actions of those who view it, a laundry list of things they cannot do, in that abstracted space. 2 ︎ The satisfaction — the hopeful arrival at some destination — is met when the answers sought are received, in some manner. 3 ︎ The result is a question, rather than an answer; a slight and playful teasing, rather than a critique. 4 

2018   ︎ It is a meditative exercise in repetition, an invocation of memory and how perception changes or stays the same, each time we re-encounter something that, factually, ought to be the same. 5 ︎ There is a meticulousness to her work, a reverence in her dedication to capturing the light and shadows in the perfect way. 6 ︎ There is a shift in the gaze, too, a redirection to look up at the sky, to expand what we see beyond what lies in front of us. 7 ︎ We put together composites of what we know to be true and real, automatically attaching this understanding to what we cannot quite figure out just yet, in an attempt to try and make sense of whatever that may be. 8 ︎ Each work is the result of different shapes and arbitrations joined together to evoke something specific through their varying configurations. 9  ︎ The parts out of context may not mean anything by themselves, but working together in their own contextualized space, they can form and express the magnitude of the bigger picture. 10 ︎ Here, he walks through the forests of Makiling, as a forager and explorer, re-introducing himself to the place he grew up in, which in turn gives him the clarity and the quietness he loses in the city. 11

ART ︎ Features, exhibit coverage, profiles ︎

Her job, it seems, is to make these connections between wildlife and man, to help the viewer cross the bridge with her. BREE JONSON, “WRITHING”

Occupying the Métopes, one of the Palais de Tokyo’s spaces on its first level, Eustaquio’s drawings take on a life of their own — an organic combination of discarded detritus and delicate flowering blooms, rendered in soft graphite and blown up, appearing to consume the panels they’re set against.

Writing about Ocampo is always a little scary. You feel like you’ll read him or his art completely wrong — a strong possibility, as his art is rife with iconography and symbols, giving it a proclivity to be misread — but a tiny part of you is absolutely sure that he just wouldn’t give a shit. MANUEL OCAMPO, “MANUEL OCAMPO EARLY WORKS: 1985 - 1994”

In his attempts, there is a clear recognition that to grasp infinity is impossible, but still he tries. CHARLES BUENCONSEJO, “NAME, KIND, APPLICATION, DATE LAST OPENED, DATE ADDED, DATE MODIFIED, DATE CREATED, SIZE, TAGS”

With all the tools he had discovered and began to love — cameras, editing machines, digital software, and videotape players — he began to search for other forms. COCOY LUMBAO

Quiet introspection — an act that the viewer is constantly invited to do and thus, with having done so, in a way, the viewer has experienced part of the process — made way for these pieces to exist. “PAUSES OF POSSIBILITY,” LOPEZ MUSEUM

Hindi tayo mauubusan ng gagawin,” he says, referring to the amount of material available to him as a Filipino, given the current climate of national politics and culture. “Baliw ang bayan natin. I don’t want to ignore it.” JOSE TENCE RUIZ, “SIPA”

Loosely translated, muhon means “place marker” or “monument.” It is a fixed point in space and time, as for staking a claim on a particular place in the universe. 15TH VENICE ARCHITECTURE BIENNALE, PHILIPPINE PAVILION

MUSIC ︎ Features, profiles ︎


CULTURE, ETC. ︎ Features, reviews, profiles ︎


PERSONAL ESSAYS ︎ “Quiet Company,” et al. ︎