It was then, a Filipino class some time ago, that our professor raised a question. “The best art was written in times of great crises,” he said. When humanity is faced with a dark era, the light of creativity shines through. Thus, he asked, where are the Obra Maestra? Are we not in crisis today?
I had no answer. I merely looked through the window and into the trees. Staring off into an unknown future as he spoke of shootings in dark corners. Sometime soon, the bell will ring. Setting into motion a delicate waltz of humanity, descending stairs red with floor wax into the next chapter of our lives.
In the era of Corona, I ponder upon that same question from long ago. The world is undergoing a crisis of identity. Astrologers point to a great conjunction of Saturn and Jupiter this year challenging us to revisit societal norms. Economists point to an unknown future, speaking of recession.
Where are we going? Time coalesces together like the Gordian Knot. So stuck in an unimaginable pattern are we it’s a miracle Alexander has yet to cut it. All of a sudden it’s the third month of quarantine, then the fourth.
Yet it was not always like this. We once had our lives structured in the dance of hours. Each day dictated by the school bell. You pack your bags to proceed to the next figure.
5, 6, 7, 8
Cafeterias echoing with laughter and cutlery on plates. Glances of mischief are shared as you consider cutting class to getaway.
1,2,3,4
Afternoons where you feel the world catch its breath. All around you leaves slowly fall, fragile brushstrokes on pavement destroyed by the throng on their way home.
5,6,7,8
Evenings, the world cools yet the hum of activity goes on all the same. Somewhere in this dumpster we call a city, someone smiles upon hearing their first I love you.
Then it’s gone. The record we were dancing to screeches to a halt. I’m on the first flight home with only three bags. Two weeks, it won’t be as bad right?
Yet we watched helplessly as this house of cards built with wounded hands came crashing down. As the numbers rise, so does the fear. I see it in our eyes, stark against mask-covered faces. The world we knew is falling apart, ripping at the seams. We’re all at once, learning to swim again in a sea we no longer know how to cross.
Those in power keep clinging to that long-departed shore of normalcy. Burying their heads in the ground like ostriches as they attempt to give this broken nation a fresh coat of paint: a new normal. Ha! As if the past norm we lived in didn’t allow for this to happen in the first place. The same hands used to steal, now covered in latex. The same mouths used to lie, behind N95’s. All this yet we can’t stop looking. Thank God for this mask then, at least way the world won't see the void behind my eyes.
A month into quarantine, Dad suggested we open a Netflix account for the meantime as an escape from the barrage of emails and Zoom meetings. A window to the outside world we used to roam.
However, in this unending stream of content, I still keep coming back to the movies I watched years ago. I return like a child to his favorite toy, like someone to their old lover. In a cha-cha that never ends: backward, forward, then back again. Why?
I’m caught in a storm with no end in sight. The surge grows and ebbs yet all l I have is this machine for a raft: 13" long, 7 " wide and 3 years old. Every day the watchlist grows as I can’t seem to finish a single title.
So I jump from one to the other.
Until I find myself back to the same
Old
Ones
Are you still watching?
The world is falling apart at your window.
Are you still watching?
Are you?
Somewhere in the deep recesses of my mind echo the words of my professor. As I stare into this window of glass and plastic, I realize that the Obra Maestra we so seek exists all around us. Somewhere in this dark and unending sea some madman looked at the chaos and birthed from it what our world needs: Beauty! Anger! Emotion! Life!
Maybe that’s why I like watching those same wretched old movies. Because at this moment, in this space between midnight and the dawn, the world is at peace. There’s nothing here, only faint music from my laptop as I watch these people onscreen live the life we once lived.
To fall in love with their best friend after five long years of yearning. To chase after their wish of directing. To dance with their lover in the middle of a closing planetarium as they share a tender kiss.
To do the one thing I can’t do at this moment,
to dream.
That beyond these days there lies a tomorrow filled with glorious possibility. That one day, sometime soon, we would be able to walk in the streets we used to know.
The Greatest Art is born in crisis. The Greatest Change is brought about BY crisis. One day, one of the works birthed by this Gordian knot will be the spark this nation sorely needs.Serving not just as tomes meant to be read by future generations but as a guiding principle.
Till that day comes, I remain here. Staying up all night watching the same movies in-between days of work. Taking in this brief reprieve from the unceasing dirge of news in this crazy world we live in. As I join the chirping birds in greeting the sun slowly basking the world in a pale new light with the same old song, “here’s to the ones who dream!”
ABOUT THE PRIZES
In solidarity with the Filipino community affected by COVID-19, the Ateneo Art Gallery in cooperation with the Kalaw-Ledesma Foundation, Inc. has organized the AAG x KLFI Essay Writing Prizes to support writers affected by the crisis. With the theme “Thoughts and Actions of Our Time: Surmounting the Pandemic,” writers were encouraged to submit essays that reflect on or discuss the turmoil, struggles, initiatives, and expressions of hope during these trying times.
Through this Prize, the Ateneo Art Gallery hopes to extend assistance to artists and writers in its capacity as a university museum highlighting the Filipino creativity, strength, and resilience during this difficult period.
After receiving more than 100 submissions for the competition, six (6) winning entries were selected by a panel of jurors for each of the student and non-student categories. Writers of the winning entries received a monetary prize and their essays will be published by the Ateneo Art Gallery in an exhibition catalog accompanied by images of shortlisted works from the Marciano Galang Acquisition Prize (MGAP). Essays are also published in the Vital Points website, the online platform for art criticism developed by AAG and KLFI.
View the online exhibition for MGAP and the AAG-KLFI writing competition here.