Filtered By: Lifestyle
Lifestyle

Dance review: The revolution continues in 'Rock Supremo'


The dancers' costumes reflect the shift to the present day—and current troubles. Photos by Jojo Mamangun courtesy of Ballet Philippines
 
Dahil ako ay mabubuhay
sa iyong mga alaala
at sa puso mo
diwa ko'y titira.


- Ebe Dencel, "Lakambini"

Bringing to vivid life the story and continuing relevance of a historic hero who helped bring about our country's independence must be a dream project for any social artist of our time.

Ballet Philippines and RockEd's collaboration with the National Historical Commission, "Rock Supremo", is a profusion of emotive contemporary dance, plaintive lyrics, elegiac rock music and playful filmic montage that gave life to significant moments of Andres Bonifacio's life, all in honor of the sesquicentennial of his birth.

Beyond the stereotypes of Bonifacio as the bolo-wielding father of the Philippine revolution, the multimedia event did not re-trace for its audience a romanticized version of the hero but instead bravely essayed the actual betrayals and tragedies that befell him – circumstances that still very much resonate among today's Pinoys, especially in this graft-ridden political landscape.

'Rock Supremo' featured expressive choreography by Paul Morales, Alden Lugnasin, and Dwight Rodrigazo.
 
The three-act ballet was interwoven by the narration of a Historyador, played by Ballet Philippines artistic director Paul Morales (alternated by Madge Reyes). The camera-wielding, bespectacled Historyador looked like a modern-day reporter, interviewing people from Bonifacio's life and exchanging notes with Kabataan, a character standing in for the nation's youth and alternately played by two male dancers.

Morales's tone at times sounded tentative, perhaps to add a certain casualness to the mood of the show. Key dancers who portrayed the main characters (i.e. Andres, Gregoria) had speaking lines, a welcome addition to the show's theatricality.

The performance starts with the betrayal of Bonifacio (Jean Marc Cordero), set to Peryodiko's "Sintensya", as an ensemble of Katipuneros stands atop a makeshift staircase, condemning him to his death. The all-male corps exuded virility and anger, thanks to Alden Lugnasin's bold choreography that almost reminded me of Agnes Locsin's sinewy, also all-male Moriones.

As the dance comes to a standstill, the Historyador begins to inquire about the events that ensued before the hero's death. A flashback to the hero's youth begins.

"Casadores," Bonifacio's commentary on Spanish tyranny, is set to music by Dong Abay and features a group of "indios" forced to work under the gaze of a whip-wielding guardia civil. A video montage of factory crates accompanies the dancers making percussive noise by pounding on box crates and a madwoman, ardently portrayed by Rita Winder, screaming and struggling as if in reaction to the oppressive situation of the times.

It is in these circumstances that the young Bonifacio, a bodegero, is awakened to the atrocities carried out by the colonial government. He establishes the Katipunan, engaging men and women to join its ranks. One of them is another young man, Emilio Aguinaldo (Victor Maguad, who did not exude as much stage presence as the others, perhaps because of his small build and innocent look).

In the dance "Yugto", the Katipuneros rip up their cedulas in famous, open defiance of Spanish rule; then, in "Dakilang Duwag," they find themselves preparing for a war they seem unprepared to handle, especially in relation to the forces of the Spanish military. As they dance, a video showing a war game console play on two side screens.

Katipuneros and Katipuneras tear up their cedulas.
 
The Historyador then intervenes, and approaches the older Gregoria de Jesus with a question: "Binibini, paano po ba nagsimula ang lahat?"

This brings us to the wedding of Gregoria and Andres, danced in a lyrical pas de deux by Katherine Trofeo (young Gregoria) and Cordero (Bonifacio), set to Kai Honasan's “Iyong Liwanag.”

The song's lyrics captured the couple's poignant, short-lived love story, as the circumstances called for them to live undercover, and often separate, lives. Choreographed by Morales, the dance exuded the giddy affection between a young couple. It was, to me, one of the more charming pieces, mainly composed of a series of suspended poses that smoothly glide from one pose to the next. Trofeo's dreamy gaze and Cordero's solid partnering added enchantment to this dance of affection. Actual words written by Gregoria in her autobiography also formed part of the speaking lines of dancer Carissa Adea, who portrayed the older Gregoria.

This was followed by an equally heart-rending pas de deux, set to Ebe Dancel's evocative song "Lakambini", a fictive letter to Gregoria by Andres before his disappearance and death. Adea's acting as the suddenly widowed wife made the audience feel her loss, with Richardson Yadao as the Andres' phantom assuring his wife that his spirit will always be with her as she moves on without him. As Dancel's resonant voice sang, "Hangga't pag-ibig ay panig sa atin/ kumagat man ang dilim/ huwag mangamba/ dahil liwanag tayo ng isa't isa."

Katherine Trofeo as the young Gregoria de Jesus
 
The final act was titled “Pag-ibig at Pag-asa,” reminiscent of Bonifacio's nom de guerre May Pag-asa. The Historyador and Kabataan ruminate on the various versions of Bonifacio's death, as Kabataan conjures an imaginary possibility where Bonifacio escaped death and succeeded in leading the revolution. After Kabataan's daydream scenario, we are led to a dance set to the famous poem attributed to Bonifacio, "Aling Pag-ibig Pa", interpreted as an engaging rock melody by Peso Movement. In this dance, Bonifacio's past, present and the nation's future are set in a vision of the hero's undying love for his mother country.

The performance ends with a reggae-influenced "Hoy, Emilio" rendered by Radioactive Sago, and danced by the company ensemble. Reggae music might not have been an apropos ending for the performance, as one might have expected a sound design closer to Philippine musical tradition. But at least the song's lyrics had obvious references to Aguinaldo's betrayal of Bonifacio. Flashed on screen were caricatures of modern-day politicians, especially senators involved in the current pork scam, ending with a cartoon image of the now infamous pork scam queen Janet Napoles. The female dancers were in flowing floral skirts and the men in floral polos, as the narrative shifted to present-day realities. The finale appeared very open-ended, and one might wish for a clearer closure to the narrative.

Nevertheless, the show ended on a celebratory note of Bonifacio's life, and a call to the youth as the Historyador exclaimed: "Humabi kayo ng sarili ninyong kasaysayan."

The entire dance was undoubtedly postmodern, a mix of multimedia figurations of the hero's life. Choreographed by Morales, Lugnasin, and Dwight Rodrigazo, “Rock Supremo” was a collaborative venture with 11 alternative rock bands. The hybridity of all the art forms made for a cutting-edge mix, though a much tighter connection in between dances could have still been made. The use of contemporary dance as an idiom, which is based on experimentation, groundedness and multiple floorwork, brought expressiveness and sensitivity to the story.

As we live through promises of “matuwid na daan,” wars in the South, massive multibillion graft issues, the undying hope for the nation that Bonifacio had continues to light the country's path. "Rock Supremo" was a potent reminder to retell and remember the greatness of our forebears who genuinely fought for meaningful freedoms, which we are called to uphold and honor, especially in these times of great disquiet. — BM, GMA News

Rock Supremo ran from Sept. 20-22 and 27-29 at the Cultural Center of the Philippines.

Rina Angela Corpus is an assistant professor at the Department of Art Studies, University of the Philippines. Her research interests include feminist aesthetics, dance history and alternative spiritualities. She trained with the Quezon City Ballet and Limon Dance Institute in New York. You may visit her writings at Dance of Stillness.