Peta & CB Garrucho: Home at last

Cecilia "CB" Garrucho can recall every detail of the night her life changed. It was 1967, and she sat mesmerized in the audience of the Rajah Sulayman Theater in Fort Santiago as movie stars Vic Silayan and Lolita Rodriguez made theater history.

There, in the cradle of rebellion where Rajah Sulayman valiantly fought against invading Spaniards, another revolution was being staged. Simultaneously unveiled that night were the Philippine Educational Theater Association (PETA) and CB’s dedication to its ideals.

"I had just graduated from college. Bayaning Huwad was the first play I saw in Tagalog. It completely captivated me," she says breathlessly. "It was so powerful. Kasi, before, plays were in English. It was the first time I saw the power of a play in our own language. The very next day, I joined PETA."

Today, still as pretty and charming as her small screen days in the 1980s, the former Tele-Aralan ng Kakayahan host is leading PETA into its fourth decade, taking her cue from predecessor Cecile Guidote- Alvarez whose patriotism and love for the arts gave birth to this humble dream.

PETA’s founder decided to establish a national theater while training in American institutions. Alvarez reversed the brain drain by coming home to pursue this ambitious endeavor. The group later gained a reputation for its dedication to the common Filipino and its concern for social issues. Enhancing its prestige were members who later honored PETA with their accomplishments. Best known is the late great director Lino Brocka, a legend in film. There were also the likes of Joel Lamangan, Mario J. delos Reyes, Soxy Topacio, Dante Rivero, Robert Arevalo, Chris Millado, Isagani Cruz and Noel Cabangon.

PETA members often start in the teen workshops. After years of training, one is invited to join the theater group. "Many start with us at a young age," CB acknowledges. "But only a few really stay because it takes commitment and dedication. Lino Brocka was one of our founding members. He came in as a starving artist. He really did all the dirty jobs. He would type press releases and deliver them himself. He would do anything and everything. That’s one of the hallmarks of our training. There’s no job that’s too small because, anyway, it will really redound to you later on."

She cites as example Melvin Lee, who started as a teenager in PETA. "At the launch of the theater last September, he was the janitor, polishing the entire center with a towel over his shoulders. Then, that night, he sang a solo onstage," CB shares. "If you are a diva, you cannot be part of PETA. Everyone helps out. No job is too small. We do whatever needs to get done. But when it’s time for you to shine, you shine."

The theater group has become the training ground of Filipino artists. Majority still support the family that reared them. But PETA’s contribu-tions go beyond such personal stories. Acknowledged here and abroad, the theater group was last year’s recipient of the Japan Foundation’s special prize for culture and the arts. Aside from a special audience with the Japanese emperor and empress at the Fukiage Imperial Palace, the group was also lauded for "playing a key role in the formation of an Asian art network."

The feat was made even more meaningful by its humble beginnings. PETA easily became known as the people’s theater by casting urban poor settlers around Intramuros in minor roles. Street kids and their parents were given access to Philippine art–an undertaking that usually excluded the underprivileged.

"Theater must always somehow educate," CB insists. "We educate by the plays we present which are always relevant to people’s lives. We also educate through our workshops for theater enthusiasts and non-theater enthusiasts. That’s the lesser known side of our work. I can never forget seeing the power of a theater workshop on non-theater people."

Considering themselves mainly gypsies, PETA artists often travel around the country to teach common Filipinos theater arts. CB remembers going to Irosin, Sorsogon for a most unusual experience with local farmers. The group exhibited the same shyness and hesitance to meet the strangers from Manila. But the one big difference was that none knew how to read or write. This made it impossible to stick to PETA’s planned syllabus. The team had no choice but to brainstorm for alternative ways of conducting the workshop. "We stayed up until 2 to 3 am wracking our brains for what we could do. The workshop integrates drama, creative writing, music and dance. Unfortunately, we were supposed to start with creative writing. So, you can just imagine how we felt to know they were illiterate," she recalls.

Ingeniously, PETA members told the farmers to bring various textured objects from their surroundings. The assignment produced strings of abaca, dried leaves, rocks, fresh Gabi leaves and the like. Then, the eager students were asked to use the materials to make masks that mimicked characters in their folk tales.

"Before long, they were tugging at each other!," says an excited CB. "They immediately worked on their masks. The characters they created were out of this world! Characters we have not seen before but familiar to them. Out of the Gabi leaf, one of them made a carabao mask. Then, the long abaca became an ermitanyo. Then, there were birds. City people could not have made masks like that. After seeing their masks, they were told to wear them and make the sounds natural to these characters. Before long, they were already performing a play based on the problems faced by their community. It was such a powerful curriculum. It always happens without fail. When we first meet them, they are always inhibited and they don’t speak. But there’s this power of the curriculum that releases their voices. Most importantly, they are able to tell their own stories. That, in short, is the pedagogy of PETA. No matter what the group, you don’t have to be educated or young or old, theater releases the power of what you want to express."

PETA workshops never fail to enrich even the members themselves. CB recounts their experience with child laborers in Ormoc whose common dream was to go to Manila and find work. Obviously touched, she emphasizes the unjust reality that these kids were so unfamiliar with the concept of play that they had to be taught how to have fun. Then, there was that recent trip to Cebu that brought together a group of youngsters whose meager resources have kept them from attending school.

"They were so talented. No less talented than these kids onstage," CB says, referring to the 2006 PETA Teen Theater Workshop Group that wowed parents with their own production. "Our tradition has always been to live in the young–very, very young people choreo-graphing a whole show, composing the music for an entire show."

Cecile Guidote Alvarez went on political exile in 1972 and did not return until 1986, after the EDSA Revolution. It was do or die for PETA then.

"We’re proud of our history especially during Martial Law when we had zero funding," CB affirms. "The challenge forced us to be creative. Yes, we used theater to speak of the times. It was called the theater of indirection because we were delivering our messages indirectly. We used historical plays, folk tales, fairy tales to deliver secret messages (like ‘tyranny would never work’). And yet, the audiences understood what we meant. It was a scary time to be an artist. Parating may ahenteng nakaupo sa audience. It was like the turn of the century when there were those seditious zarzuelas. Bawal mag-display ng Philippine flag. So, habang walang American sa audience, people would come together to form the red, white and blue. It was a tradition being followed by us as Filipino artists."

One of the most unforgettable plays staged during the Marcos years was Shakespeare’s Macbeth which criticized the First Couple’s reign. Fortunately, PETA was so ingenious in masking its hidden messages that authorities were not alarmed by their productions.

"Do we miss the Rajah Sulayman?" CB repeats the question with her trademark smile. "Yes and no. No because we are no longer captives of the weather. But yes because it was a historical place. It was bastion of rebellion by Rajah Sulayman himself plus it was the place where Jose Rizal was imprisoned. If you were trained to perform there, you’d be a very good actor because sensurround yun so you have to know your blocking and modulate your voice since we didn’t use mikes. The space was also challenging because it wrapped around the audience."

Among her favorite performances was Eugene Ionesco’s "The Chairs" in 1969 where she was cast in her first lead role. The play was staged not at the Rajah Sulayman but, eerily enough, in one of the dungeons of Fort Santiago. The intimate audience of 70 sat in the bowels of the fort now cordoned off. Then, there were productions with guest actress Lolita Rodriguez whose commanding presence, swears CB, kept your eyes glued on her. Humbly, PETA’s president recalls being a mere extra in Nick Joaquin’s "Larawan" which starred Ms. Lolita Rodiguez and Ms. Charito Solis–both great actresses from the silver screen.

PETA’s 39th season (July 2006-June 2007) features four productions. "Mga Kwento ni Lola Basyang" which opens on July 20 promises to entertain both young and old with beloved stories from the best known Filipino storyteller. "Walang Himala (Isang Maikling Kasaysayan ng Resureksyon)" takes a look at the EDSA Revolution 20 years later. "Don Quijote (Isang Adaptasyon)" brings to life Miguel Cervantes’classic character in a Bacolod aristocrat who finds himself surrounded by shady characters in Metro Manila. Closing the season is "Lady in White", Wilfrido Ma. Guerrero’s last unproduced play about a matron who hires a male escort from a gay bar.

"We want the PETA-Phinma to be a cultural hub for exciting, creative work. That’s why we also want to share it with other groups. And since we also want to be self-sustaining, we rent out our venues," CB emphasizes. "Meanwhile, we want to keep staging excellent performances and continue to connect to people’s lives. Our challenge is to be able to say something to both young and old–to remain relevant."