The way we were: Artists remember the Martial Law era

Long hair a la Beatles. Curfew every night enforced by Metrocom. Discos that were the scene of the action. The MetroPop songs. These were just some of the things artists can’t forget about the Martial Law (ML) years. GMA News Online asked some of them to reminisce in time for the 40th anniversary of Martial Law on Sept. 21, 2012.   Q: Were you still a student then or a graduate? Where were you on Sept. 21, 1972?   Joseph B. Olfindo, singer and songwriter: Student sa Don Bosco Technical Institute Makati. Nasa apartment sa Santillan Street Makati at Mr. Fajardo’s (grade school principal) boarding house for Don Bosco teachers.   Bibeth Orteza, writer and actress: I was still in school. I graduated in 1975. I was home. There had been rumors about ML since the suspension of the writ of habeas corpus earlier in August, so by the time talk was rife ML had indeed been declared, my mother was frantically helping me get rid of some documents entrusted to me as secretary of Samahang Radikal, a student org. [We also got rid of] the red flag that flew over the UP CAS building during the Diliman Commune, entrusted to me by Lori Barros in the first Women's Long March around first week of September that saw us marching from the Welcome Rotonda, but down Balic-Balic, because we weren't allowed to walk down España. We landed on the cover of the Asia Philippine Leader the week after; there should be a copy of that issue somewhere. Ginawang pambalot ng unan ng nanay ko ang makasaysayang bandila na iyon.   Jacqui Magno, singer, Circus Band: I was already a member of Circus Band then. Hmmm I don't remember really but if I'm not mistaken, it was at Atek Jacinto's place where we usually rehearsed. I remember Basil Valdes, Pabs Dadivas, Hajji Alejandro and the rest of the band members were all sporting long hair and they were concerned with their hair being cut!   Ani Montano, composer: Student, UP Diliman. At home the time it was announced.   Mike Pedero, studio designer owner, singer, composer: Was still in UP finishing my undergraduate course, but also working as station manager of DZTR-AM, Espana Extension, Quezon City   Elise Goloy Cortez, singer, arranger, voice coach: Whenever I hear the words Martial Law, for some reason, one memory stands out from that era. It was that particular Christmas of 1972. I was 12 years old when Martial Law was declared. That day, there was a certain eerie silence ... no TV nor radio programs and the streets seemed deserted... I overheard my Mom, Lola and Tita discussing in hushed tones, but I guess I was too young to comprehend what was taking place. A few days later, my Mom, (a literary journalist and poet, and Associate Editor of the Sunday Times Magazine) came home with several boxes filled with books, papers, office stuff, her trophies and her Underwood typewriter. The Manila Times was closed down. Several weeks later, my sisters and I had to stop schooling because my mother, a widow, could no longer afford to put us in school. When the nuns learned about it, they agreed to let me finish the school year with very minimal fees.   Ding Tolentino, keyboardist, band leader: I was a student in UP Manila then...I was out with my friends… jamming maybe.   Sam Climaco, composer, worship pastor: Working student, managing and arranging for bands and singers. Visiting my girlfriend.   Zeny Enriquez, band member of Something Special: I was too young to really remember all this.   Q: How did you react to Martial Law? How did you spend the 1970s? Did your lifestyle change because of it?   Olfindo: With anxiety, NO RADIO NO TV! Adjusted to BAGONG LIPUNAN. Yes in a positive musical way, I entered UP in 1974 , entertained the First Family as UP Concert Chorus member. As a member of the UPSILON CHOIR (we serenaded IRENE on her 18th birthday; she was the fraternity sweetheart), we did BEST OF BROADWAY at the CCP, we did shows at the FOLK ARTS THEATER …and as THE NEW MINSTRELS and SOMETHING SPECIAL BAND we did gigs for visiting foreign dignitaries on board ANG PANGULO.   Orteza: I was angry. My friends were being arrested, and the news was that some of the kasamas were turning in people too. We had no social media then, no cell phones. There was no way of finding out what was what. I went on leave from school, and worked, openly, as a junior disc jockey at the DWAD. Working in media, I found out that the solders who had "raided" the TV networks for closure and summarily destroyed the films that were scheduled for airing, used the telecine method, where the films, as films, were aired through a projector-like machine for television. Most of LVN films were at ABS-CBN. Sampaguita and Premiere Productions had films at ABC-TV 5. All in film cans, axed and shredded just like that, on suspicion that some held "subversive material."    Magno:  I had mixed emotions...bewildered, anxious, concerned. I spent the early 70's in search of enlightenment and peace. Having been exposed to the likes of Mao Tse Tung (Red Book), Carl Jung and Paramahansa Yogananda and the like, I opted to take on the spiritual path by 1978. I was more concerned of how to be a mother to son, who I had just given birth to since I was left to fend for us.   Montano: Patay na tayo. Moderately involved with protest movements. Not really.   Cortez: Christmas vacation came, and for the 1st time, we had no Christmas tree. We had a plastic ornamental plant in the living room which my Mom adorned with Christmas lights and trimmings. My sisters and I wrapped used boxes with used Christmas wrappers, tied old ribbons on empty wine bottles and put them under the tree. The day before Christmas, a small box arrived, sent by the nuns, filled with imported canned goods, a sweater for my Mom, a woolen fabric (with a note "to keep you warm"... written), and a "new" dress (with a note "for Elizabeth”). My Mom looked at me lovingly and said, "you have something new to wear to Simbang Gabi tonight."   My Mom must have noticed the expression on my face. The truth is, I didn't want to wear the dress. It was one of those sewing projects we made in school for the Christmas Fund Drive "for the poor." The ICM nuns sent those clothes to the Mountain Province where they have their missions work. But looking at my Mom, I did not want to disappoint her and so I wore the dress to church that night. After Mass we partook of our Noche Buena, the canned goods given by the nuns. We also opened the old gift boxes and laughed.   Tolentino: Scared…but I know I should behave and bother no one. I was already playing with bands on Dewey Blvd.   Climaco: A chill down my spine ...angry ...wanting to join activist groups ...some friends joined the NPA so as to have an instrument to fight back. Skipping classes to join rallies...using my musical talents to create plays to air out my grievances against the regime.   Enriquez: I just remember there was no newspaper and the TV stations were out, then my Dad saying Martial Law was declared.   Q: Were you optimistic or pessimistic during Marcos' heyday in the 70s?   Olfindo: Very OPTIMISTIC. OPM RULED!   Orteza: I went back to school in 1973, became founding member of the UP Repertory Company, and chairman, later on in 1974-75. Before ML I was truthfully a moderate, aligned with the Lakasdiwa soc-dems in UP, when I ran and won as College of Arts & Sciences councilor. I joined Samahang Radikal the day after the writ was suspended. SY of 1974, I was elected to the Consultative Committee on Student Affairs, the interim organization that took the place of the UP Student Council; then joined the UP Collegian under two editors, Emmanuel Esguerra and Diwa Guinigundo. Summer of '74, I was a fellow to the 1974 Silliman University Summer Writers' Workshop and back in UP Diliman a few weeks later, head of secretariat of the 1974 UP Summer Writers' Workshop.   Montano: Pessimistic   Pedero: Optimistic because on the on-set, there was change and things were going on well.   Tolentino: I look at both sides…my brother was a radical guy…I'm more into bands and music.   Climaco: Hopeful but not expecting to get rid of the dictator. Yes, frequently stuck in places where our band played and also in my girlfriend's house because of curfew, no more painting the town red at night with my classmates, so hard to study, grades terribly affected, had to drop some subjects, waking up every day with a dark cloud on my head, frustration, easily getting angry. There was never a totally happy day (even happy days were missing something).   Q: What were your memorable images of the Martial Law period?   Olfindo: THE LIM SENG EXECUTION, MODEL BARANGAYS, SAFE STREETS   Magno: Memorable images for me would be having been caught (with Basil Valdes and the late Gerry Paraiso) by the METROCOM police on our way home from a gig in one of the spots along Dewey Blvd. now known as Roxas Blvd. We were given curfew passes but the cop who stopped us, after having seen our passes, claimed that our passes were under the jurisdiction only of the Rizal Province. He told us if we were to question him, to just wait for his superior.   Basil and Gerry were both mum because they were terrified they might have their long hair cut off! At first I tried to talk reasonably and was a bit irked with the cop, but he didn't budge. It was also known then that people caught without curfew passes were forced to cut long cogon grass until around 6 a.m. I started to feel frustrated because we were caught right after the Welcome Rotonda in Quezon Blvd. which was then near where I then resided!   So, I placed a long shawl over my head (since it was early morning already feeling the cool, humid air) and called the cop again. This time, I broke down and with tears flowing down my face and in between sobs, told him that he was unreasonably detaining us since we had our curfew passes and that my baby was waiting for me already at home which was actually a hop, skip and jump away!!! He finally, gave in to my plea and let us go.   As we finally drove off, Basil and Gerry laughed nervously in relief. I reprimanded them both for not even trying to help me reason out with the cop! They both retorted that they were concerned about their hair getting chopped off!!! SHEESH! But soon after I just laughed it out while wiping my tears off.   Montano: Rounding up of student activists at the UP campus.   Pedero: 1) Curfew. 2) We were made to cut our hair short on the on-set, but grew them once again after.   Cortez: Life was difficult for us during those years. That we had survived is nothing short of a miracle. My Lola would always tell us, "God will never give you more than you can bear." And if there is one lesson I learned from those years, it is that faith, love, sacrifice, honor, integrity, and not riches, are the most precious gifts one could ever receive and give.   Tolentino: Metrocom.   Climaco: Running from flying bullets and tear gas, the invasion of the UP campus by Metrocom and soldiers, missing friends, Bernardo Carpio Rock Opera, sometimes I needed to hide, always trying to see a bright side to a dark era.   Enriquez: The curfew I of course remember, my siblings (boys only) would have to stay overnight at a party because of that curfew.   Q: How would you characterize the impact of Martial Law on the economy, music, arts and culture?   Olfindo: OPM was much appreciated; The METROPOP was THE EVENT for us. OUR CULTURE WAS FOR EXPORT through songs like ANAK, Isang Mundo Isang Awit, Ikaw Ako Tayo Magkakapatid, Babae Ka, Nothing I Want More, Smile, I Don’t Love You Anymore. A little island called SINGAPORE looked up to us then.   Magno: I felt that music, arts and culture thrived a lot during Martial Law because of Imelda's hands on with the Arts. After all she claimed to be the Patroness of the Arts.   Actually, looking at the environment, the city was cleaner due to the Metro-Aide. We had the Love Bus that I never got the chance to ride on but heard that it may have been, if not, the first to be the air-conditioned bus line. But looking more deeply, there were the uprising of the activists whose voices were curtailed from being heard and control was very evident within the system. There was a semblance of discipline though based on fear but crime was lessened due to it.   I really have mixed feelings, because, it seems the Filipinos are a people not really ready for democracy as they tend to make excuses out of everything and thus become anarchistic in the long run...I guess we are still young souls, babies, that may need an assertive but calm (as my fave Dog Whisperer, Cesar Milan, puts it) leader to properly thrive harmoniously. But again, don't quote me...I'm not into politics! HEHEHE!   Montano: Encouraged protest music to be more creative, nationalistic approach to music also encouraged. It made you realize that Filipinos can be a disciplined people, but it also gave rise to a military believing that power really rested on them, umabuso. It destroyed the concept of political parties with differentiated platforms.   Pedero: In reality, music and the arts flourished because Imelda Marcos was a great supporter not only of the classic arts but of modern and pop as well. Metro-Pop for popular music was one such good product. May negative, but also positive. It showed that the Filipino can be disciplined if needed.   Florante de Leon, folk singer and composer: Disiplina ang pinakamagandang idinulot sa bayan ng Martial Law.   Climaco:  Lasting effect... always being vigilant...never again if I can help it...and/or if people forget.   Q: How was the party scene?   Magno: Yes, it's true that people holed up in clubs, discos and parties from midnight to 5am or was it 6am. That's why a lot of such venues thrived and cropped up. The party scene must have been very much alive and kicking.   Montano: Not much difference with scenes before martial law was declared, except that this time you have to prepare for longer hours   Pedero: The same. The discos were bustling and there was great attendance. People stayed until 4 AM to bide the time of curfew. – KG/ELR, GMA News