I explored the Dinagyang and affirmed my suspicions that "street dancing" will grow exponentially. Its development is both a fortuitous and conscious design, as it also produces fortunate and disastrous consequences to our native cultures.
The Dinagyang, like most if not all street dancing spectacles, is not traditional. Their expressions are not grounded on communally-shared experiences manifested in forms that are shared and shaped by time. But there is the attempt to dig from the roots, a conscious design by well-meaning organizers to take source from tradition and history and the people's experiences. This in itself is an important gesture.
But working within fiesta conditions produces a culturally-bound habit: Filipinos decide important matters through consensus. The creative process more often than not evolves with the opinions of other members of the community contributing in the process, not the least of these is that of the hermana mayor who funds the work in the hundreds of thousands. The communal quality of this process is inherent in the collaboration that is theatre. The merging of ideas as with the merging of efforts is a community's contribution to the whole process. The worth of a final work is the worth a community has invested in. Honor or shame is shared.
In these settings where the rural merges with the urban, city-evolved expressions like the music, dance, and design have been superimposed on the provincial piety and the folks' continuing veneration of their patron. The creative expressions revolve around the santo of forms that are appropriated from both the "indigenous" (or what the choreographers perceive to be indigenous) and the popular as absorbed from the electronic and mass media.
The unfortunate instance is when these street-dances misappropriate native expressions and, in the process, misuse cultural symbols and maliciously devolve ethics. I have witnessed many examples. But when one invents from resources one owns, I then accept the fact that one is doing a creative work.
The Ati-Atihan is the source in the Dinagyang celebrations patterned, according to sources, to that practiced in Ibajay, Aklan. To a visitor like me, the elements of the Ati-Atihan are familiar: the soot-painted warriors, the elaborately-designed headdresses, spears and shields, phalanx formations, the chants, and the drum rhythms. Juxtaposed in the performances are two anachronistic events, both historically-contentious, the 13th century Barter of Panay and the discovery of the image of the Santo Niño in Cebu half a century after Magellan's exploits. How the Ilonggos manage to superimpose one over another without deemphasizing the other is a marvel of post modern creativity.
The Ilonggo has added to this the Ati dimension. Innovations in design and execution betray a traditional character: the clearly structured performance design, the dissimilar variants of forms, the social commentaries implied in the works, the borrowed rhythms more Afro-Latin than indigenous Filipino, and the finesse in execution are characteristics of formally-trained artistry. In many instances, asymmetry in designs and experiment gave fresh meanings to the familiarly monotonous street dancing. Limiting the use of whatever expressions these performers could muster was music which the rules said should be beaten only on drums and bamboos, but were at times punctuated by the native flute.
Significantly, the performances were produced outside of ritual and religious prescriptions. The veneration of the santo may have been a fringe objective because clearly the performers were there to outdo each other. Group pride (the groups were called "tribes") was a high stake, and the best choreographers were hired to assure that executions were above par.
The creations were impressive and their exceptional qualities were widespread and shared. And how these compositions have managed to borrow from TV, hip-hop, classical ballet, modern dance, and the aesthetics of the modern stage! The varied elements have gelled to produce a composition where the ati and the Santo Niño images are central. Repeated over time, these forms will evolve a life of their own to become tradition and draw the distinctive dinagyang shape.
The synergy among the sectors is a fact recognized by the United Nations where the Dinagyang complements the UNESCO's millennium goals. The large street parade has become avenues for advertisements and exposure, and companies (even politicians) use this opportunity to the fullest. (This year's festival lured an estimated 1.2 million visitors to its streets and markets.) Imagine how a seamstress can supply costumes to a "tribe" of 60 to a hundred twenty performers, forty musicians, and a bevy of participants who perform a segment of seven minutes in five spots. Multiply this by 29 groups, at least!
Economic viability, entertainment, religion, and creation in a communal atmosphere are ingredients that make for a lucrative combination that assures the continuity and sustenance of the dinagyang. These factors are replicated all over these fiesta islands.
Culture is shaped by the instruments that allow a people to survive through piety, offerings, ritual, and celebration. These are addressed by Pinoy fiestas proven only by the fact that these have survived among the complexities of our digital age, no matter what their forms are. Culture evolves, and in all instances, the Dinagyang definitely has culture evolving.
Do we now witness the emerging performing art forms, evolved from the people and for the people? By the looks of these innumerable clones of humongous expressions, street dancing will become the Pinoy's quintessential performing art.