The Kite Runner

Just finished reading the novel by Khaled Hosseini. The opening chapters were very good kind of reminiscent of John Knowles "A Seperate Peace." The characterization of the father and son conflict. The friendship between Hassan and Amir. Amir's selfishness. These were amazing and refreshing read.

However somewhere in between I got lost. Maybe because the novelty of tortured people escaping poverty and landing in America is not new to us Filipinos that the hardships of starting over did not pull any emotional string in me.

Coincidences are good. I agree it helped the novel. However the way Shorab's transformation was handled was too erratic for me. One time he is this good boy the next a reckless child getting lost finding a mosque and slashing his wrist. I don't know if his bit was just to make the novel longer in the last part because it made me yawn.

Verdict: Good novel. May read first few chapters at night but definitely read the other half during the day.

The Trillanes Fiasco

I did not see this coming in a million years. And I guess nobdy did, except those who thought they can pull away with another people power. It is so 1980's and like bangs and padded shoulders, napakalaos na.

Trillanes has been in jail for a long time. He was not able to see what is actually going on outside. Rallies and call for support will not stir the people anymore. What we need are real life heroes willing to give their lives up for the cause.

For a while during the coverage somebody said they will take it to the very end "at ito ang magiging bagong Pasong Tirad." Strong words but no balls pala. After an hour, a dose of tear gas and a series of gunshots, suddenly they came out misty eyed surrendering.

Not a good role model. Not that I want to see bloodshed, but what we need is a new Che guevarra or a Ninoy Aquino to capture our minds and imagination. Eh kung ganyan ganyan lang konting sakit give up na, wala talagang mangyayari. Poor planning and execution. Kailangan pa ng practice.

Remember noon 80's its just the radio. And video killed the radio star. Ngayon may cellphones, live coverage and internet na. We have to adjust to the times. Hindi pwedeng bagets pa rin ang tugtog ng boombox.

My Father's Garden

My father was the erstwhile green thumb. Give him a seed or a stem of anything and he will make it grow in a month. He has tried it with bromeliads and orchids and anthuriums, that he created a virtual jungle on our household grounds. But do not look for aesthetics here. Its just mere random planting of whatever he could grab on.

It has been six years since he was gone and the garden was left to tend for itself. No new plants are placed and the old ones seem to have outgrown their pots, vines have climbed to top of trees and seedlings grow together with their mother plants in the same pots.

I took this pictures just to give me something to help me remember before everything changes. Every morning after coffee he would go down and attend to these plants. Either water them, plant new ones or change their pots. Everytime I leave for Manila, I would look for him there to kiss his hands. It was his kingdom and the plants love him like their king. It was where he was most truly happy.

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas

This is the Belen that was given as a wedding gift to my parents. There is an older nativity scene ceramic set that my father's family bought for fifty pesos fifty years ago, which will be going on display a little bit when people are in the holiday mood already. Merry Christmas.

Insiang at the CCP: a case of great expectations

Was it 5 years ago, when I was jogging along CCP when I saw the poster for Temptation Island the play which starred John Lapus? I was curious enough to buy the tickets and watch that night and had a very pleasant experience watching transvestites do the roles of the candidates for Ms. Manila Sunshine. It was so hilarious, witty and the fact that the script was faithful to the original film that even if I get to see reruns of the film on cinemaone, I still feel the the same exhiliration as before making it truly a classic.

Then came Insiang, the play. I was in Manila over the weekend for nothing in particular. So I looked up the list of shows at the CCP and saw the announcement for Insiang. I was excited to be able to be in town when the show was still running. From the airport the first stop was the box office at the CCP and I was dreaming all night of how wonderful the play would be having seen the original Brocka movie.

But of course, I think that did it. I had my expectations set at par with the movie with Hilda Koronel as my muse that as I was seeing the play I was disappointed with the show.

I understand the whole script was rewritten for the stage. I understand that at this point the writer rather than the director has the creative voice. What I don't understand was half way through the show the play was still busy creating character studies of the lead roles that the drama of the story has to unfold in the last fifteen minutes of the play. I felt I was shortchanged with seeing the plot and the lead role unfold that quick. It was like watching Swan Lake with all the other dances hoarding half of the time and seeing Odile the other half of the time.

The play busied itself with creating atmosphere. There were several moments stolen by the supporting cast members as they make their own different Oscar moments on stage. As I see it, the lead role was Toyang's, which should have been the title. They could have advertised this as a spin off of Isiang instead. Pacing was ineffective as her role was limited to either groaning while having sex and screaming at Insiang. Ricky Davao had pa cute moments like when he was explaining why he was who he is, that I am still trying to understand as part of a stage treatment that was way off character. I ended up not hating him. Insiang was given too long a time to be sweet that I did not feel the transformation to a bitter revengeful bitch that I expected. Perhaps because the girl playing the part was miscast as she was too sweet and played the part like a girl from an exclusive school would or the script was not that powerful and challenging enough.

The production design portraying scenes from the squatters area was terrific. I even commented that the stink of mildew of the theater might actually be part of the design. The acoustics were fine except when Pacing are doing her moments when I actually could not understand what she is saying as she contorts her face to equally incomprehensible emotions. Yes there are breast and butt exposures, which I believe is too juvenile. Parang college plays. But if it helps draw crowds to the show, okay lang. Funding a production is indeed a difficult task these days.

If I was not clouded by the great work of the Brocka, I think i would have doubled my enjoyment on seeing the play. My verdict, see the play before you see the movie.

Saudi Ahmad: The Next National Artist for Visual Arts

The three hour trip from Zamboanga City to Kabasalan, Zamboanga Sibugay is a mean feat for all who dread long road trips and unpaved roads. But the chips and conversation kept us awake in along the rustic scenery that surrounds us. Comments like this wuld be a good place to put up a hospital or a spa. A scenic area overlooking the Sulu sea would be a perfect place to build a house that would rival any in Tagaytay for scenery alone. But reality bites once in awhile as check points dotted the road. But the slow pace of life evident by the people walking along the road surprised to see a car passing by at that time of day.

We reached Ipil a quarter past noon and ate at the old reliable Jolibee. Its presence is actually a measure of an areas economic progressiveness. After the Abu Sayaff razed the town to the ground by burning it, the town like a phoenix has risen from the ashes. We asked the waitress, what else can we see in the town. She made a low smirk and admitted that there isn't any tourist attraction in town. She might have wondered why of all places are tourists going to the place. She suggested to look for the ostrich.

We did look for the ostrich. There were three ostrich kept in a cage in the towns main intersection near a gasoline station. But instead of wonderment, we felt pity for the birds placed on display in the middle of the city with their feathers withering and skin blackened by the pollution of passing vehicles. It was not a pretty site to see.

Then the adventure began, we remembered the legends of Saudi Ahmad. a legendary painter from the old capital of Zamboanga Sibugay, Kabasalan. He was the most famous of all the visual artist in Mindanao. I attended his exhibit once at Fort Pillar and was amazed by the detail of his works. One of the doctors relate how he would give one of his paintings in exchange for treatments. His large works are owned by prominent bussinessmen and one hang at the National Museum. He seems elusive from all the stories we heard of him. Preferring to work alone.

So we decided to look for the elusive Saudi Ahmad. But he was not that elusive after all because he is so famous in his town that from the mouth of the river as we crossed the bridge, we asked for directions to his house and everyone gladly showed us the way.

One would never miss the house. Its achitecture was designed by Saudi made of mangroove wood. The traditional muslim roof tops the house. While the windows have no lkshutters rather are made of wooden railings to let in the air. It was an artists house indeed. We asked the lady who turned out to be his wife if we could meet the famous Saudi Ahmad and see his gallery.

A few minutes later, a man in gray shirt wearing a cap came and introduced himself. Here was a great artist who waas welcoming us, practically strangers. He began talking about his art. He was so glad that we came to see him. He said he appreciates it more if his audience visits him to see how he works. He was we were too late because a week ago there were visitors who came and bought his works.

A little prodding though he said he just finished two pieces and he would gladly show them to us. He said he will be turning the second floor of his house into a gallery. And he showed us the only masterpiece left in his house. His works are all over the world, having done exhibitions in capitals including New York. Details of the work are featured on top of this post. He said he will never part with it no matter how much is paid for it.

The painting depicts the muslim community scene. With detailed costumes and landscape. It was difficult to take a picture of the whole scene because of the reflection of light. He showed us the two recent pieces he finished. One is a mother who is breastfeeding and the other a father teaching his child to play the flute. He showed us photographs of his old works and we were awed by the beauty and intricateness of his creations.

He talked profusely about his works. Like he was suddenly excited that there are people interested in his works. He called his style subtraction. He commented he was the original dagdag bawas originator. He painted a tree trunk with brown and green. After wards, he started taking off the paint using the brush and with such grace and talent, the curves made a striking intricate detail on the trees that is characteristic of his works.

It is difficult now to get a finished work and make and exhibition. His works get sold even before they are not finished. He is up for the honor of the next National Artist for visual arts. And I believe he deserves to be. His works are original and patriotic at the same time.

Who says artist are elusive. Mr. Ahmad is truly an srtist in every sense. He sold to us the two new paintings. Invited us to his exhibit at the Metropolitan museum in Manila. Except for the large painting he refused to sell, there are no other paintings left in his house. That is a mark of truly successful and great artist.

As If We Never Said Goodbye

This is probably one of the best performance of the song I have ever seen.