Dense Art, Crowded Cities

I live a life that’s constantly on the edge... on the edge of the metropolis, that is. It’s a yoyo life that takes me physically from one end of EDSA to the other almost every day. I live near Katipunan (where I write this column), teach at UP (College of Architecture), edit a magazine in Ortigas Center (BluPrint, in case readers didn’t know), and work on other projects from an office in Makati. It’s a lagare life, I know, and I wish everything were just a walk away, but it isn’t.

There are just so many people, buildings, roads and gunk in this city that there’s no space left even to think. If you did manage to take in enough oxygen from the city’s dodgy air to be able to do so, you’d realize that the problem is a matter of the city’s density – and a certain type of density at that.

Manila is crowded, but surprisingly, the number of people per hectare is less than parts of Singapore and Hong Kong. The only problem is that because of limited low-rise housing, bad transportation networks, crazy infrastructure and inefficient land use, we are all more compressed – horizontally – and in extremely tight pockets of public space – than in almost any city on earth.

Squeeze Play

Manilans are so tightly squeezed in – in jeepneys, MRTs, FXes, fast-food restaurant queues, and malls that most are ready to burst. Sociologists call it the "behavioral sink" situation. They noticed that as more and more lab rats were crowded in a small cage, the rats started to exhibit deviant and violent behavior. Luckily, Filipinos have coped rather well (not counting sporadic cases of murderous road rage and people’s propensity to gather every few years on EDSA). Most turn to music to drown out noise, colorful billboards to make up for colorless architecture, and texting to maintain close ties with a small social circle while surrounded by millions of strangers.

Still, it makes you wonder how far our adaptive behavior can take us. Ten million (or 12 million, if you count those under the bridges and along the railroad tracks) is no joke. The humor may escape everyone once we hit 15 million in just a few years.

I did escape my lagare life for a while the other week to head for an event. This took me opposite, or rather perpendicular, to my usual route. I journeyed to the CCP complex where there was an art event entitled "Densities." It was a welcome change of scene and I needed to check whether we still had a bay.

"Densities" was an event anchored on a site installation – that of several cargo containers that were laid out on the pristine lawn of the CCP fronting the main theater. The event (also part of the CCP’s Art Month) was a collaborative project put together by three main groups – Pananaw ng Sining Bayan, Inc., Pinaglabanan Galleries, Incorporated and Surrounded by Water (SBW) – Alternative Space. The aim was to "encourage visual artists to create innovative and excellent art on themes arising from the very real problems of the cities they live in."

Conscientious Containers

The seven containers radiated from a central open space a short walk from the CCPs elitist ramp. It was strange walking onto the lawn just past noon. The site is a non-space really, one that serves mostly as foreground for a monument to cultural aspirations (albeit not everyone’s idea of what we should aspire for). I was the only one there except for some minders. Apparently, most visitors came at sundown. Only mad dogs, Englishmen and nosy writers braved the boiling midday sun.

Despite the time of day, the container interiors were oddly cool. Their contents were also a coolly-odd mixture of art and social statement. The installations carried the event’s sub-themes of environment, shelter, power, mobility, body, cultural and environmental heritage, and community.

The first container was an installation called "The Pillow Project." Canvas pillows were stuffed with recycled and shredded plastic. This material was processed from garbage by students from Cavite, who used the profits to help pay their tuition fees. A waste-reduction seminar (pillow talk?) was held in front of this container to further the cause. Hey, we could solve the landfill problem and also guarantee everyone a better night’s sleep. (I personally would strap pillows to cover my ears in the hope of muffling the noise of tricycles at night.)

The second container dealt with power, mobility, and noise. Fuel runs transport and generates electricity. It generates nothing but a widening economic divide if access to energy is made difficult for the masses. Artists Michael Muñoz and Mideo Cruz mounted performances to highlight that problem while Datu Arellano used sound to make his statement. Arellano recorded everyday sounds of that one activity that most of us spend most of our daily lives doing in Manila – the daily commute. The sound of honking horns, wailing sirens, vrooming engines and swearing commuters is played incessantly – just like the traffic that never stops in the city.

The other containers were filled with similarly engaging installations. In one was a large bottle stuffed with models of cheap housing. The title – "Bottleneck City." In another was a bunch of coco-lumber ladders with artwork displayed on each rung. In the city, the artists claim, many are unable to climb to more comfortable levels of society and wealth despite all their hard work.

There was also an interactive installation by Bong Banal on the CCP – how people perceive it and their suggestions on how to improve it. Blowups of different areas and buildings in the complex were pasted up with signs encouraging viewers to mark their thoughts directly on them. I looked for the picture of that odd structure that looked like Disneyland-on-acid that has risen like some bad dream beside Locsin’s architectural icon. I couldn’t find it or the "blank-out" liquid.

The last container was another interactive work – "Changing Perspective" (by Carla Gallardo, Jet Pascua, Claro Ramirez, and Eric Zamuco). Using abstracted human form, text, sound and light, the artists express hope in the face of all our urban problems. They reckon that it takes an individual change of perspective before citizens can figure out what their roles are, what the issues really involve and what they can do to bring about change.

Art Appreciation And The City

After taking in the installations, I walked up and into the CCP itself to attend a dialogue with some of the artists. I was invited to share my views on the city and its problems. The discussions went in many directions. We talked about just how dense the city really is (about 75,000 people per square kilometer). We also looked at why we are so dense – immigration from the provinces, the predominance of a limited number of urban centers instead of a more balanced distribution of industry, commerce and housing supporting these. The topic of population was also tackled, but that would take another article to do it justice. It was an engrossing discussion and I walked away with a better understanding that mine was only one of a multitude of perceptions of the city.

Imelda Cajipe-Endaya Curator

Filipino artists are a concerned lot. They try, as evidenced in this event, to make sense of the city in their own way. The organizers and participants of the event hope to promote "art-making as a broader cultural engagement that encourages interaction between artists, city officials, urban planners, cultural workers and citizens" towards finding creative solutions to our common urban problems.

I do believe that the Filipino is truly creative. Witness how city folk cope every day and you will see this to be true. The ordinary Manilan has elevated urban survival to an art. Even the MMDA has resorted to art in covering up graffiti. Yet the edginess of life in this heartless metropolis persists. It may take time, but if we and the artist in all of us persist, we can break free from the crass cold containers of modern life. I just hope that we will all be appreciated in our own lifetime.

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Feedback is welcome. Please e-mail the writer at citysensephilstar@hotmail.com.