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Ryan Cayabyab has spent his life shaping our culture with music: by writing, recording and performing it, as well as by teaching and training younger generations. For the National Artist and Ramon Magsaysay Awardee, that energy comes from a boundless, contagious joy that emanates from the very core of his being.
WORDS: Lou Albano
PHOTOS: Mark Jesalva
DESIGN: Jannielyn Ann Bigtas
OCTOBER 28, 2019
RYAN CAYABYAB LAUGHS A LOT.
He laughs at the memory of being the iyakin third child in a brood of four.
He laughs when he remembers Lea Salonga’s initial reaction upon hearing the first version of “We Win As One,” the Southeast Asian Games theme song, which he composed. “Sabi niya, ‘I don’t see myself there.’ Ha ha ha!”
He laughs with disbelief at the idea that he is now a Ramon Magsaysay Awardee: “Anong ginagawa ko dito?”
Days before the ceremony in September, Mr. C, as he is fondly called, tells GMA News Online how overwhelming it has all been.
Each awardee is given a one-minute video presentation, like a highlight reel of their life’s work and achievements after which they were to say something.
When it his turn came, Mr. C was rendered speechless, needing about two minutes to compose himself. “Tapos nu'ng nagsalita na ako, hindi ko mabuo ang sasabihin ko kasi nag-break down ako. Umiyak ako kasi grabe 'yung mga napagdaanan nila.”
He mentions all the awardees and the gravity of their work. South Korea’s Kim Jong-Ki lost his son to suicide, which pushed him to put up a non-profit that eventually helped his country bring down suicide rates. Angkhana Neelapaijit is the Thai homemaker whose husband, a human rights lawyer, was kidnapped and was presumed dead. “She got up and fought and went to court and became an advocate of human rights.”
And then there are the journalists Ravish Kumar and Ko Swe Win, of India and Myanmar respectively, who have been fighting for democracy and for the truth.
“So after hearing all that” — and here Mr. C laughs again — “sabi ko, ‘Anong ginagawa ko dito?’”
He had to explain to everyone else why he was crying.
“I said, ‘All of you have felt this pain, this deep pain, and all through my life, I’ve only felt happiness and joy, working with young people and infecting them with the importance of learning music.’”
“This is such a big thing!” he adds, listing down a few past awardees: Sheila Coronel, Ravi Shankar, Mother Teresa. “Kasama na ba ko doon sa company na 'yan? Really?!”
The Ramon Magsaysay Award follows the prestigious National Artist for Music, which was bestowed on Mr. C last year. Such accolades are all unexpected; they were “ne-he-ver” a goal for him.
“All I did was, I had fun. All I know was the best time. There was no life lost, there was no struggle. It was, ha ha ha” — there he laughs again — “Can you imagine my struggle kanina? ‘Anong ginagawa ko dito?’”
But ask anyone who has been part of Raymundo Cipriano Pujante Cayabyab’s life in music, and they would tell you how he helped shaped our culture with music: by writing, recording and performing it, as well as by teaching and training younger generations.
“I’ve only felt happiness and joy, working with young people and infecting them with the importance of learning music.”
HE HAS ALWAYS CONSIDERED music easy. When his mother died, he found her box of piano music and immediately started reading.
“First, just the music I knew and then later on, siguro kasi I enjoyed, I could read anything and play. I was self-taught. It was easy. There was no struggle there. I enjoyed it,” he says.
By high school, he wanted to work to help out his dad who was struggling as a single parent to the four Cayabyab children. “Music was the work that as available, and I happen to be good at it. Everything came — it fell into my lap.”
As he was studying accounting, Mr. C continued working as a pianist. He was earning a handsome living when then Senator Doy Laurel offered him a music scholarship. And that was that.
In the late ‘70s, even while still in school, he began writing music and touring abroad. In 1978, he wrote one of his earliest masterpieces, “Kay Ganda ng Ating Musika,” which won in the first-ever Metro Pop Songwriting Competition.
And even before he could finish his degree, Mr. C was already offered a teaching job.
BY 1981, Ryan Cayabyab is preparing to leave the record industry to teach at the University of the Philippines College of Music.
Before his departure, he releases “One,” an acapella album. “The first of its kind in Philippine recording: a one-man performance,” the record sleeve read. It contains a mix of 10 original songs and covers all sung by the Maestro in up to 16 different voices, from baritone to soprano and what-have-you.
“I’d been working in the industry for 11 years at that time, so sabi ko, I’ll give myself a gift para before I teach in UP, I’ll leave something for the industry,” he tells GMA News Online.
To say that he went crazy with the record can be a bit of an understatement.
It opens with his rendition of the Tagalog folk song “Bakya Mo Neneng,” made extra harmonious by the gentle backdrop of his vocals. The original “Mamang Kutsero,” meanwhile features joyous vocal work in place of instruments that would become something of a signature.
It also includes one of his earliest masterpieces, “Kay Ganda ng Ating Musika,” which won in the first-ever Metro Pop Songwriting Competition in 1978.
But it is the song befittingly titled “Tsismis,” that best showcases the record’s brilliance.
Using tempo, beat, rhythm, vocals, and lyrics, “Tsismis” demonstrates the very concept of, well, tsismis. It’s an animated demonstration too, boiling to a chaotic climax of oohs and ahhs and sabi-ko-na-nga-ba’s before falling into a steady groove, as if to illustrate that part of a tsismisan when the ‘mosos and the ‘mosas finally get the 411 they have been craving for .
“And nobody would agree to produce it!” he hotly says, back in the present.
But he quickly calms down, explaining he knew exactly why that was the case: “It was an anti-thesis of a commercial album. Who’s going to buy that?”
“Pero sabi ko, basta gusto ko gawin.”
This stubborn generosity, his determination to showcase himself, would manifest itself so often that would become something of a leitmotif throughout a career that would span 40 years.
AS PLANNED, Ryan Cayabyab went on to teach in the Department of Composition and Theory at UP College of Music. He also put up a music school for people who did not necessarily want to study music in college but wanted to learn anyway.
He thinks his strong inclination toward education might be his mother’s influence. She was an opera singer who taught music on the side.
But The Maestro, as his students, colleagues, and fans have taken to calling him, never ended up leaving the recording industry.
In fact, he conquered it — all of it.
He continued not just to write and produce songs, but also performed them. Mr. C went on TV and sang and played the piano.
Not long after, he embarked on putting together vocal groups like The Smokey Mountain for whom he wrote songs “and did everything.”
There were other groups too, like 14K, from where Jolina Magdangal started, and the eponymous Ryan Cayabyab Singers.
Mr. C was always training, always teaching, always sharing what he knew: writing, composing, producing work that would inadvertently shape OPM.
“I think that’s the reason why I don’t get tired,” he says slowly, as though it finally dawned on him why, 40 years on, music remains a thrill for him. “Nagva-vary yung roles ko, I don’t stay writing forever. I go from one aspect to another: the creative aspect, performance, mentoring.”
He is good at all of them, and more importantly: “All of them I enjoy.”
The groups he mentored didn’t just top the charts, they also sold records and went on to win international contests. Smokey Mountain, for instance, won at the Tokyo Music Festival in 1993 for “Paraiso,” at the Voice of Asia Song Festival in 1993 for “Mama’s A Maid in London,” at the Abu-Golden Kite Festival in Malaysia in 1991 for “Tayo Na.”
His influence seeped into unlikely places, too. The Eraserheads and Barbie Almalbis performed and recorded his songs.
Meanwhile “Da Coconut Nut” became a favorite among chorales all over the world. It even went viral two years ago, when a clip of the Baylor University Men’s Choir of Texas singing the famous Cayabyab song generated a whopping 10 million views on the Internet.
That’s not mentioning his gig as conductor of the San Miguel Philharmonic Orchestra and the San Miguel Master Chorale, leading them to record award-winning albums too. Or his writing an opera, a ballet, and a film score.
THESE DAYS, people may be surprised to learn that Mr. C still has quite a hand in pop music. Ben & Ben (at least four of them), Nar Cabico, Reese Lansangan, to name a few, are all graduates of the Elements Music Camp, a four-day songwriting program that he put up with music enthusiasts Twinky Lagdameo and Jun Sy.
The annual workshop involves mentoring musicians, teaching them the ropes, “educating them about how music works.”
But, he is quick to add: “We never meddle with their styles, because that’s theirs.”
When he was first approached for the project, organizers asked him to put up a music festival. “I said, ‘You don’t need me. Let me introduce you to people who know how to do that.’” But when they prodded, Mr. C agreed, with one condition: there needs to be an educational component to the whole thing.
The camp has now spawned a songwriting contest, and many other copycats. “They all realized the value of training, and of making people more literate. We were able to inculcate that feeling to a lot of our colleagues and hinahanap na nila.”
Mr. C. proudly shares the entire program has created about “360 music soldiers doing it on their own,” with others creating their own band camps and songwriting competition.
And then there is the PhilPop Music Competition, which he also spearheaded, and its subsequenet boot camp, not unlike Elements.
When he received his Ramon Magsaysay Award, Mr. C, in his speech, narrated an encounter with a famous musician, who asked him, “Aren’t you afraid you’re divulging trade secrets?”
“Because of his remarks, it became clearer to me why I wanted to teach. Teaching can transform lives,” he said.
Speaking to GMA News Online, Mr. C says “the whole point in [teaching] is to arm all of them so that lahat sila mas magaling kaysa sa amin. What’s the point kung kami lang ang magaling?
“Dapat 'yung susunod na generation, mas magaling kaysa sa amin para mag-move forward tayong lahat.”
He notes how Filipinos have made a mark around the world as performers. “Eh ang galing-galing natin. There are Filipino musicians around the world: singers in hotel lobbies and cruise ships. In Disneyland, even Broadway. We showed them na magaling ang Filipino hardware. ‘Yong software, nasaan?”
For him, the mission is to develop the next generation of songwriters and composers.
“Push these guys, kayo na maglagay ng bandila natin sa world map. And if we’re able to infect them with the same idea, they’ll do the same to the next generation.”
“Dapat 'yung susunod na generation, mas magaling kaysa sa amin para mag-move forward tayong lahat.”
IT HAS BEEN 38 YEARS since he recorded "One," when he thought he was going to leave the recording industry behind. Instead, he has been a huge, constant force in OPM. He’s written no less than 188 songs. He’s won countless awards, and there’s a plethora of work — albums, operas, movie scores and jingles — to his name.
He’s even ventured into what he initially avoided: drumming up a music festival. The recently concluded Pinoy Playlist at Bonifacio Global City isn’t his idea but Mr. C has signed on with Moy Ortiz of The Company and talent manager Noel Ferrer to usher in a Filipino music festival aimed to cut across genres and generations.
And all of those, he continues to enjoy. “I’m not exaggerating,” he wags a finger. He talks about the different joys that music brings. “When you write, you’re in touch with everything inside. And when you perform, you’re with others and you collaborate with them and you touch each other’s spirit to create something that is, wow! Maganda.”
And then there is also the experience of connecting with the audiences. “I never got tired of it. I always showed up,” he says. “There was never a time I didn’t show up. Never. Until now, I enjoy!”
At the Ramon Magsaysay Awarding Ceremony, the spotlight hit Ryan Cayabyab’s head full of white hair. He looked tall and in his crisp Barong Tagalog, elegant. On that stage, it was plain to see him bursting with joy.
It was his smile that caught our attention. Grinning from ear to ear, Mr. C. beamed with much happiness, and pride, and joy. We caught ourselves smiling and cheering for the Maestro as he walked down toward the stage, seemingly bouncing with a happy song in his mind.
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