I resolve... to GO where life takes me: Why the artists have fled Malate for Cubao
It’s a sad state, really. That was the topic of conversation we had over a few drinks at Mogwai, that bar-slash-cinema-slash cave of creativity about the unmaking of Malate. With me were Rem Zamora, the night owl behind Insomnia turned theater stalwart and Repertory Philippines front man, Ana Abad Santos, hands down my favorite theater actress, and Reuben Uy, actor-singer-dancer-choreographer and a former Akafella.
A restaurateur friend of mine closed his restaurant because he was saddened by the sudden demise of his beloved neighborhood. His former restaurant, that boasted its own garden, is still there, but what was once an oasis for gastronomes is now a warehouse. “I just made it into my bodega, because my neighbors are all honky-tonks,” he explained to me one sunny afternoon in his new Greenbelt home. Sadly, many others have followed suit. Who killed Malate? Who knows?
We were pondering the exodus of the bohemian set from Malate and into Cubao X, or Cubao Expo, if you want to be more formal about it. But there is nothing formal about the place. It sort of just happened. And that is what makes it happening. That Saturday night, I just decided to shun all invites for events and just listened to that inner voice that told me to head over to Cubao X. In my mind, I wanted to hang out with Ana, and two minutes away from Cubao, I decided to just call her and ask where she was — true enough, X marked the spot of her location. Everything about that night was unplanned, yet it was one of the best night outs I’ve ever had in awhile.
There were no invitations, nothing that was being launched, no endorser was being introduced to the press, nobody’s birthday to celebrate, no open bar bait and it wasn’t on Facebook — there was no itinerary, no agenda. Just me following the spirit of my own fun, which all led me to Mogwai, a kingdom of creatives having their own creative fuel at Future, and lovables hanging out with the hangers at the I Love You Store with the I Love You girls.
Random, fun night
Upstairs at Mogwai was a film screening. I checked the schedule and it said that the film being screened at that moment we were there was Iputok Mo Sa Labas. I didn’t want to come up to the theater that early, so I just decided to let it all out downstairs as I played observer to the scenes unfolding before me. Later on, I learned that the screening was of short films by young directors with the theme of the same title.
Across the street, upstairs at the I Love You Store, I was admiring the reworked pieces and the quirky-cute stuff of the I Love You girls when I suddenly had a long and meaningful chat with designer Mimi Sanson. I abhor small talk. Whether I’m in a big party or in an intimate gathering, I really want to connect to the one I’m talking to. Mimi and I more than connected, so much so that at the end of our conversation, she asked hesitantly if she could pray over me. And she did. The words that spontaneously came out from her mouth were straight from the heart. I was deeply moved. “It was God talking through me,” she said matter-of-factly.
The Future was bright, especially since the crowd was one big welcoming party. I felt like the prodigal Smurf that went back to Blue World. There were no rubberneckers, no downlookers, and no variety of snobs — only genuine seekers of fun and festivity. Kiko Escora was spinning, and the artist whose works recently fetched millions at Sotheby’s was playing for his crowd. And his crowd played back.
It is this sense of play that we sometimes forget, especially in this day when it’s “hipper” to go gloom and doom. In these times of recess, the best things in life do not have to be expensive. If you tweak your mind a bit, a simple bag of chips can be just as satisfying, just as scrumptious as a triple-decker gourmet sandwich. Hard to believe, but that is why they call it mind over matter. What matters after all, is digging up the delight in life’s so-called dirt, following the beat of your own drum and seeing the beauty in a random night out.