Who's filling up the walls of VOV?
Artist/Type of Exhibit : Jeffrey Jay Jarin
Date : April 19, 2017
Time : 6PM
The fiddle-leaf fig (Ficus lyrata) is one of the most coveted houseplants. Grown as a houseplant, the fig easily reaches for the ceiling. In Jeffrey Jay Jarin’s “Dito Kita Iiwan,” however, the statuesque plant is left lying on cold concrete. The plant is robbed of any sustenance: its root ball has no shelter and the previously lush leaves have started turning into crisp brown. Whether the change in color is caused by too much water or the lack thereof, the plant will soon succumb to its inevitable demise. In this scene of neglect, however, the common butterfly palm (Dypsis lutescens) flourishes. Here, the creatures are not treated according to their value, but they live according to their capabilities.
In “Dito Kita Iiwan,” Jeffrey Jay Jarin returns to the characters of his previous works: unseen organisms lurking around and plants still bound by pots (or uprooted from its pot) within a concrete space. Amid the lifeless space, absence of man is the most natural thing.
The artist presents his characters in a state of vulnerability. Unlike his previous works, his latest works acknowledge the fluctuations of life: a philodendron whose leaf edges are turning brown and an uprooted fig. It’s not a question of intention as the artist left the plants to both grow and wither on their own.
“Dito Kita Iiwan” is not just an exploration of life and growth, but the artist draws you in the stillness to reflect on what you’re willing to leave behind and what you can sustain. And in your rumination, Jarin leaves you alone in solitude but never in desolation.
- Oliver Emocling
Artist/Type of Exhibit : Tano Panaligan
Date : April 19, 2017
Time : 6PM
The age of the necrocryptids has passed. The Earth, scorched and stripped of every life there is, has been revealed once again as the blanket of pestilence and the stench of death itself was worn out by the winds and sands of time. Light shone through. The sun remained its course as it pursues the moon across the sky. The stars continued to dance, and the world still treads, faithfully, along the path it was given in the heart of the great expanse of the cosmos. There was hope for the world, as how thousands of years of history of war and plague and strife has shown mankind of its undeniable resilience. Yet the battle was vicious and mercy was little in the battlefield, and like a wounded soldier carrying himself home after war, the human kind was damaged. Damage irreversible. There was nothing left at all- the flesh and skin torn away, innards ripped asunder, and bones almost scraped clean, as how man was purged off of his own humanity. But despite such cruel misfortune, the soldier chooses not death that calls him, he chooses not to sever his ties to the living world to end his suffering. He stands up and carries on, with his rifle in hand and his flag, his colors flying in the blood-red sky that looms over the crimson-tinted landscape. He takes and plunders, whatever he needs to ensure his survival on his journey home. Mankind has taken what was left of the world; the tiny morsels of flesh and bone, anything distinguishable that once belonged to the living, regardless if it were from man or beast. They began to piece themselves together, start from scratch. Start anew. Humans are good at it. After all we have been broken time and time again, and whoever we were once piece by piece was replaced and renewed, until nothing remains but a new man. The changes may seem outlandish, but is not that the point of change? A bringer of new ages? A catalyst to a new renaissance? The moulting, the shedding of one’s old self to reveal the majesty of a new, better being forged by the fires of adversity and suffering, tempered stronger than it ever was? Eventually as humans continued stitching themselves back together, enlightenment continually seeped through from the shadows of their wretched form- a new path paved from the entrails and blood they have sewn into their flesh, but not towards the state of decay but towards the state of being. This is a new age; and as the great human species there is no other way to go but march forward, into battle, into time unknown.
Artist/Type of Exhibit
Tatlong oras lang naman ang hiram ko sayo,
ang sarap sa pakiramdam na alam mong may kahati ka sa piraso ng sandali,
sandali na pwede mong sabihing bawal kaya ikinukubli,
ang lugar na kung saan kayo lang ang may alam,
para makapunta alam mo dapat ang sekretong tawagan,
pinapabagal ang oras para madama ang bawat halik, yakap, at hininga,
isa to sa magandang paraan para tanungin kung sino ka?
ibubulong ko ang sagot na may kahalong kiliti,
pawis at laway sa kumot na puti,
ikapitong langit ay parehas nating narating,
musika sa aking pandinig ang iyong bawat halinghing,
kabisado ko na ang kurba ng iyong katawan,
alam ko na kung ilang nunal meron dyan,
kakaibang dasal ang hatid ng bawat bayo,
hindi ka santo pero luluhod ako
hindi ka pagkain pero kakainin kita,
hindi ka naman prutas pero bat may katas ka,
alam na natin parehas ang lasa ng bawat isa,
naging isa tayong dalawa,
wala akong pakialam kung ano ka,
salamat at di ka nahiyang ipakita kung sino ka