Art Forward

The Cultural Center of the Philippines, the late National Artist Leandro V. Locsin’s imposing masterpiece, sits somewhat dourly on 21 hectares of reclaimed land along Roxas Boulevard. The gray edifice seems to be carved out of a single, colossal block of stone–an unassailable monolith that suggests permanence and inviolability. In truth, its history is not that solid. A power struggle for the CCP’s chairmanship and presidency had turned nasty; alleged purveyors of refinement resorted to unaccountably loutish behavior. CCP President Nestor "Nes" Jardin and his new Artistic Director, Fernando "Nanding" Josef who officially assumes his post on Tuesday, have somehow clawed their way out of the rubble and are quietly busying themselves with more important matters: making the CCP relevant to a public that, for the most part, cares little for its productions.

The dapper Jardin began his professional career as a dancer of Ballet Philippines in 1974. Today, he still retains the dancer’s chin-up regality and straight-backed bearing. Jardin successfully–and lucratively–branched out into arts management after retiring from the stage. As an arts administrator, he has organized hundreds of major arts festivals, cultural events and performing arts productions here and abroad; he is one of the most respected arts managers in Asia. Last July, Jardin was elected president by the CCP Board of Trustees chaired by Baltazar Endriga and later appointed by President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo–a sort-of resolution to the intense squabbling between two competing factions that degenerated into the culture and arts equivalent of a no-holds barred streetfight.

On the one hand was the camp of Gloria Angara, an appointee of former President Joseph Estrada. It reasons that the President has the prerogative to appoint the CCP’s officers since the institution is technically under Malacañang. On the other is the camp of Endriga, which believes that what is at stake is the sacrosanct right of the Board of Trustees to elect its own officials, as written in the CCP Charter. Sometime last year, Endriga was at the CCP to attend the Manila premiere of Carmen by the Lyon Opera Ballet. Although officially invited by the French Embassy, Endriga was barred from entering and bullied at the door by security guards, ostensibly under orders from the powers that were. It is among the most distasteful incidents in the CCP’s 32-year history.

"There are things happening which are not ideal," says Jardin delicately. "We want the CCP to be independent of politics. If the Charter is respected, it will be a non-political choice, as opposed to Malacañang appointing the president and other officials of the CCP. In the latter, there is a danger the chairmanship and the presidency will go to politically influential persons who have no knowledge about running the arts. We won in the Court of Appeals; it upheld the CCP Charter. And then the other board elevated it to the Supreme Court, raising the constitutionality issue. If the Supreme Court upholds the Charter, I think it will be great news for the CCP."

With the thoroughness of a B.S. Zoology graduate (University of the Philippines, 1974), Jardin reshuffled the CCP’s bureaucracy. Insiders were impressed by his diplomacy–hardly a peep of protest was heard even from the firmly ensconced. Some say the reorganization had less to do with increasing the institution’s productivity than with curtailing the effectiveness of some employees in activities that, shall we say, went beyond their job description. After three short months, the encouraging results belie Jardin’s initial trepidation. "There was some apprehension on my part about whether I could effectively manage the CCP. I’ve been here since 1973 but no matter how confident you are about your ability and experience, you will have some apprehension when you become responsible for an organization with 800 employees," he says.

Josef first met Jardin while the former was–believe it or not–Jardin’s Zoology professor. At the time, he did not realize that his student, who was then with the UP Filipiniana Folk Dance Troupe, shared his passion for the arts. Josef remained a full-time Zoology professor for three years until the call of theater became too persistent–the zoologist then proceeded to study an altogether more baffling animal. He renewed acquaintances with his student in 1990 as head of CCP’s Dramatic Arts Division, which was under Jardin, then the Associate Artistic Director for the Performing Arts. Genial and self-effacing, with a laudable inclination to work in the background, the actor-director-playwright is widely credited with consolidating regional theater groups throughout the country–no small feat considering these groups often operate in open rivalry with one another.

Says Josef, "My first reaction to being elected Artistic Director (by the Board at its October 17 meeting–Ed.) was that it’s scary. Our continuous search for the Filipino aesthetic is causing a lot of tension. At the same time, the dynamics of the artistic community is not very healthy. It’s very easy to pinpoint what doctors, lawyers or social workers do for the country. As I was telling some of my friends, as an artist and a cultural worker, it’s so hard to tell people what we do for the country. "

There may be another reason for his hesitation, one that speaks volumes about his sensitivity and loyalty. Josef is currently the Executive Director of the Philippine High School for the Arts (phsa), an institution that develops students with exceptional talents in the arts. Severing ties with the phsa is acutely painful for him, not unlike amputating a limb. He says, "I have not publicly announced my transfer because I’m worried about the reaction of the young kids and the parents. There was a time when I almost resigned because of our problems with the previous board. When I made the announcement, the parents and the faculty were all crying. But now I think it’s not going to be that dramatic because the phsa will be reconnected to the CCP. The separation will not be total. In fact, I will sit in the Advisory Council of the school as Artistic Director of the CCP."

Unsurprisingly, the eternal problem of adequate funding is a key concern for Jardin, who admits the CCP is not financially healthy. Roughly half of the CCP’s funds come from the national budget; the balance must somehow be raised–proceeds from ticket sales and sponsors are often insufficient to cover even production costs. An opera, for example, costs some P 7 million to stage, an amount impossible to recover given its tiny audience. Jardin is determined to resort to fairly unconventional solutions.

"The main strategy is to develop the complex because the CCP sits on prime property. We have land large enough to be developed for us to be self-sufficient for years to come. Part of that could be for commercial development, and from that portion we can derive income to finance the construction of infrastructure. We’re thinking of building a new lyric theater, smaller than the main theater. It would seat about 1,000 for theater performances and music recitals. We’re also thinking of building an artists’ center. It will be a place where artists from all disciplines can rehearse, train, collaborate and meet each other. That building will contain studios, rehearsal halls and experimental performance areas," he elaborates. As they say, if you build it they will come.

During the previous administration, Josef was once padlocked out of his own office for his dogged militancy. There is some fear that his activist leanings would suffuse CCP productions, alienating an already modest number of loyal patrons. Josef disagrees, "Activist may not be the right word. That word has a stigma. The word relevant is more appropriate. Nes knows that I came from a very progressive theater association. As I said, we cannot compromise artistic excellence but, as an artist, I have a certain bias towards artistic products that somehow touch the hearts of ordinary people. But I also believe that those who watch opera and ballet can eventually appreciate artistic products that touch both their hearts and the hearts of the ordinary people. That is the challenge that we face. We should figure out which of these classics can become more relevant to people’s lives."

Among the greatest trials faced by the CCP is legislators’ generally derisive view of the arts as extraneous during these times of economic crisis. During one cultural and education planning meeting, a politician emboldened by his ignorance asked, "Arts and culture? Nakakain ba ‘yan?" Jardin counters with the story of how the Australian Minister of Culture decided to confront her government in their own language–facts and figures–by commissioning a survey to determine just how much arts and culture contributed to the economy. She was surprised herself to find out that the arts collectively contributed an astounding 30 percent of GNP.

"Part of the general perception is that arts and culture are peripheral to the lives of people. The agriculture and manufacturing sectors, for example, are well defined. But many of these sectors have artistic industries in them. There’s broadcast, film, architecture, visual arts, performing arts, graphic design–these are all art but they fall under separate categories. If you put them all together under art, it’s big here in the Philippines. So if you’re able to prove this, I’m sure the Department of Budget and Management and other government agencies would take notice. That’s the only strategy that I can think of that will really hit them," says Jardin.

Josef concurs, "We should do something so they will take us seriously the way they take, for example, educators or economists seriously. Many legislators still see arts and culture as the equivalent of the film and television industry. Maybe it’s our fault. We are so fragmented as a sector. Some people might say kasi you’re all eccentrics, you’re too individualistic. Some activist artists are very critical of Broadway, for example. Even among the progressives, there are divisions. What we should be able to do as an institution is to find a way of unifying somehow without disregarding differences. We can achieve that through continuous cultural education, meaning showing to our artists that we are really a product of very diverse cultures but we have commonalities. These we should identify. Otherwise, we will not be considered seriously as a sector."

"Culture as refinement" is Jardin’s quixotic wish for the country. It is said that if all you see in any given situation is what everyone else can see, you are so much a representative of your culture as to be a victim of it. For numerous reasons–indifference chief among them–the lack of immersion into the arts is a yawning hole in the formation of our ethos. Without any hint of elitism, Nes and Nanding have made it their personal and professional mission to expose Filipinos to the timeless instructions and transcendent new possibilities that are part of art’s dowry. In some ways, it is a losing fight–but these two gentlemen have chosen to do battle anyway.