by Lobregat Balaguer
In what refers to identity politics, many aesthetic and conceptual positions Filipino designers (and artists) take are polarized.
Position #1 Filipino-ness is embraced with fervor. Often riddled with uncritically cliché iterations of jeepneys, tricycles, tinikling, bahay kubo, banig, alibata, bahag, sorbetes galore for every Juan (forget about Juanita, who cares about her).
Position #2 Exploration of a cultural identity is shunned altogether. Scoffed at as a reductivist, dated, stifling, Luddite, “idealistic” (apparently that’s a horrible insult) approach to a practice that aspires to global relevance.
Position #1 is the most popular. And populist. Which is why the identity politics discussion is often regarded as low-brow naïveté. In fairness to detractors, it is rather tiresome to see the same dusty tropes paraded by advertisers, designers, artists, the NCCA, whathaveyous, trying to make an easy sell.
Position #2 is a favorite of the critically inclined and elitely positioned. Aesthetic dialogues in the North/West are easily latched onto, forgetting that many of these countries are far ahead in the identity politics discussion. You can’t skip a step. If the burning questions here are still who are we (colonial identity), what do we look like in our own mirrors (post-colonial identity), and how can we be ourselves in the face of peer pressure (decolonization), then the issue is unresolved. It cannot be shelved.
At a meeting of the recently convened Communication Design Association of the Philippines (CDAP), identity politics were on the agenda. The equally necessary (and maybe more policy-friendly) talk about the creative industry as a GDP growth trigger was also present, of course. How to institute best practices, legitimize the underground economy of freelancers, regulate industry prices, provide avenues for professionals to learn hard and soft skills. But the meeting did not begin with these business-based matters. It began with a push towards historicizing our practice and flowed towards giving value to contemporary influences–however vernacular–which is different from appropriation (which leads to gentrification).
Without a clear timeline of our (immediate) design past, how can we triangulate with our present position to map the future? Ignorance of history has devastating effects, if the presidential elections are any indication. Without a grasp on the present–a taxonomical study of styles that surround us and why they are in prevalent use–we cannot adapt and subvert these moves into a conscious voice.
Not everyone agreed on the matter of identity as positive differentiator, perhaps due to fear of local character being unwanted in the aspired-towards global marketplace. What do we understand by local character? Tarsier key chains? Gradient-dyed piña barongs? There’s got to be more to Filipino design. Without an established critical and, yes, national school, the rebellion against identity politics has no solid point to rebel against. At this (still) embryonic phase, any counterposition, with its eyes on “just being me, unattached to fabricated national personas” has no worthy rival in discourse. That makes for a boring debate.
If the words of a Filipino woman are easily mansplained over (I say this with venom, in these times of televised, applauded chauvinism), skeptics might be more inclined to listen to a (foreign) man’s perspective. When this creative was invited to judge a design competition, he was privately asked for an opinion the shortlist. He replied, in paraphrase, “It was ok, but I was looking for local flavor. I didn’t find it. It all looked pretty Western.” To be relevant, the secret is to look like ourselves. The challenge is how to design this uniquely Filipino language without sterilizing the mispronunciations that make us so fresh.
Hug the errors. Consider the birthmarks. Especially for graphic designers (and a certain breed of artists), intelligently wielded mistakes are the soul of contemporary. They constitute a new insurgence against the grids and maxims of the (neoliberal) establishment.
Lobregat Balaguer (Clara) is a writer, independent researcher and social practice artist based in Parañaque City. She runs an art and research platform called The Office of Culture and Design, and co-founded the graphic design and publishing hauz Hardworking Goodlooking. She has lectured at MIT, Harvard GSD, Strelka Moscow, NYU, Triple Canopy and PS1 MoMA.
Illustration by Othelo Gervacio
