The Centenary of Mars Ravelo

As a young kid, I played Darna, imagining myself to be the heroine with superpowers who appeared in Filipino komiks popular at that time.

On ordinary days, Darna is Narda, a simple girl with a disability. When she is needed, Narda swallows a magical stone to transform into Darna—a being strong enough to battle bad men, demons and monsters. Darna has been a big part of many childhoods, including mine. From her adventures, we learned to side with and cheer goodness and to oppose evil. We also learned what basically constitutes goodness and also evil. From komiks, Darna has been adapted to movies and television shows, becoming an icon of Philippine pop culture.

Darna is the creation of prolific komiks writer Mars Ravelo, who also created several other iconic characters such as Captain Barbell, Lastikman, Bondying and Dyesebel. Ravelo is revered for creating characters and stories that colored many a childhood memory. On the centenary of his birth last October 9, the Cultural Center of the Philippines (CCP) held a celebration. A three-tiered caked was cut in his honor. It was decorated with covers of his komiks and some of his characters. It was crowned, fittingly, with the face of Darna and a small typewriter of sugar icing.

The celebration was held at the Bulwagang Juan Luna or Main Gallery and the Pasilyo Guillermo Tolentino, the third-floor hallway gallery of the CCP, where the “Mars Ravelo Reinterpreted” exhibit, which opened on September 15, 2016, is on view until November 13, 2016.

Ravelo was born on October  9, 1916, in General Trias, Cavite, where he spent most of his childhood. He studied in Manila, but he cut classes to spend time in public libraries until he decided to leave high school during his sophomore year. He had already met Tony Velasquez, a well-known komiks illustrator, who influenced him to go into the genre. In 1939, he became the cartoonist for the comic series, “Bemboy,” but his career was cut short by the Second World War. After the war, Ravelo returned to komiks, coming up with original material, which was published in Bulaklak. On May 17, 1950, the first issue of “Darna” came out. Within the span of four decades, he produced more than 300 titles that included stories of superheroes, fantasy, comedy, science fiction, drama and romance, eventually becoming a household name. He died on September 12, 1988, leaving behind a legacy that influences many people until today.

The “Mars Ravelo Reinterpreted” exhibit kicked off the year-long celebration of Ravelo’s centenary. It gathered visual artists Kris Abrigo, Ang Gerilya, Virgilio Aviado, Mariano Ching, Ernest Concepcion, Maishadela Cruz, FaBo, Dex Fernandez, RM de Leon, Leeroy New, Jonas Roces, Jericho Vamenta and MM Yu, who created paintings, sculptures and installations inspired by Ravelo’s characters, challenging the perceived divide between fine art and comic art. It also subverts the statuses—comic art, which is usually perceived as low-brow and escapist, informing and inspiring the fine arts. The works range from the ones that comment on social issues using Ravelo characters to those that are simply homages.

Aside from the works of the featured artists, “Mars Ravelo Reinterpreted” has a section displaying memorabilia and works by Ravelo. There are volumes of komiks, as well as typewritten scripts. A small section displays works of thee of Ravelo’s eight children—Richard, Rita and Rex.

Rex’s work, a charcoal-on-paper painting called Tinapa Literature, depicts torn pages of comic books made into a little bag to hold smoked fish, a common practice then. It is described as “an interpretation of how his father would honestly want to educate Filipinos by passing on both moral values and Pinoy culture even only through repurposed komiks pages.”

Additionally, Rex emphasizes that one of the educational impacts of his father’s komiks stories is the popularization of the Filipino language. Komiks in Filipino were widely read, including in the Visayas and Mindanao, and as a result non-Tagalog speaking Filipinos learned Filipino.

For his part, Rex is keeping alive his father’s legacy, as well as trying to revitalize interest in comics. With partners and associates, he is currently building the Mars Ravelo Komiks Museum on a 2,000-square meter lot in Neogan, Tagaytay City, Cavite. Planned to open during the culmination of the centenary celebration next year, the museum, he says, will not only feature his father’s works, but it will be about Philippine comics as a whole, showing the impacts and influences of the popular art form on Filipino lives and culture. 

The exhibit area at the CCP

Bondying

Darna at ang Babaeng Linta typewritten script

Sisid, Dyesebel, Sisid

An old Royal typewriter of the Ravelos

Ang Gerilya’s Tagapagligtas (flat latex on plywood, 2016)

Darna and Valentina Encounter by RM de Leon (acrylic on paper, 2009) 

History of the Halimaw by Kris Abrigo (acrylic on wood, 2016)

Leeroy New's Still Life with Two Flash Bombas (plastic toys) 

Plastickman, Plastikman 2  by Virgilio Aviado (mixed media on tarpaulin and found objects, 2016)

Kikay Okay

Portrait of Mars Ravelo by Richard Ravelo

Tinapa Literature by Rex Ravelo

Dex Fernandez

Dyesebel by Jonas Roces (brass on stainless steel stand, 2016)

 

MM Yu

Mariano Ching 

Mars Ravelo

Mars and Lucy Ravelo

Mars Ravelo, Amaya, Cavite

Ravelo family

Me

George Tapan: Capturing the Cordilleran Chiaroscuro

In some primitive cultures, people believe that being photographed steals their souls. I am not sure how this belief sprang up. Perhaps looking at one's likeness so real on paper can be startling for a first-timer, a testament that photographs can indeed capture not only the physical image, but also the soul.

This power is being harnessed anew by George Tapan, who is widely recognized in the Philippines for his photographs of tourist destinations. In his forthcoming exhibit of photographs called “Silew: Light and Life of Cordillera,” which is slated to open for Feb. 23 and will run for about a month at the art space Tam-Awan Village in Baguio City, Tapan will revisit territories, literally and figuratively, that he have not given attention to in the course of everyday work and veer from his usual work in several ways.

The fifty-ish photographer, bespectacled and with salt-and-pepper hair, gathers together his images of the Cordillera region in northern Luzon, where the lush mountains profoundly shape the lives of several ethnic groups living there, predominantly the Ifugao, Kalinga, Bontoc and Isneg. Having mounted several exhibits in the past, this is the first time Tapan is focusing on Cordillera.

“I have been taking photographs of the Cordillera as early as the late '60s,” he relates. “It was a very different place and time then. Through the years, I kept returning -- taking more pictures each time and seeing how many of their old practices have changes, disappeared altogether, or have remained the same.”

But the idea for the exhibit came to him only last year when he was commissioned by the North Luzon Expressway company to do a calendar featuring the scenic destinations of northern Luzon. Tapan realized that he was always coming back to the Cordilleras, either on assignment or on his own initiative, and decided to go through accumulated photographs and mount an exhibit. Some pictures chosen for the exhibit date back to as early as 1969 while the others as recent as 2008. This time the images he will be showing are mostly of the peoples with sprinkling of landscapes, a sort of the departure of the thing he is known for: tourist spots captured in vivid colors, almost more vivid than life itself. He wants to present another kind of reality, which is a departure from the glossed-over, postcard-percent kind he has been creating.

One photograph shows an old Kalinga woman bent in grief. Tapan chanced upon her during a funeral. There is a young Ifugao man courting a girl by playing a flute in the evening. Like a mating call, the sound of flute rising somewhere in the mountains indicates someone is courting, he said. And he feels privileged to capture one in action. He also shows Banaue in its not-so-idyllic rendering: unattractive shanties cropping up and clinging on its slopes.

Another thing about this body of work is the photographs are all in black-and-white. This is to highlight Tapan's current fascination with the play of light and shadow as best revealed in black and white, hence the exhibit title, which is Ilocano for “light.” The result is more photojournalistic, more anthropological, more National Geographic, more art.

Many photographers have been capturing Cordillera, its people, culture and landscape, lured by the fact that this rather remote area still harbors cultures that have remained mostly unchanged through times. This is where one finds the rice terraces, perhaps the most spectacular ancient monument in the country. This is where one can encounter the Ifugaos still wearing their traditional loincloths and practicing their rituals.
Perhaps the iconic images of the Cordillera were taken by late Eduardo Masferre, the Spanish-Kankanaey mestizo photographer who documented the Cordillera people since the 1930s until the 1980s and left a treasure trove of photographs for both anthropologists and culture lovers.

Tapan himself paid homage to him by visiting his home, now a café run by his Bontoc wife and children, in Sagada, Mountain Province. Most likely, he is influenced by him. But Tapan does not think so. While Masferre's intention was to document, his is more on the side of art, he avers.

But the inspiration is evident, particularly in the old photographs of Bontoc women who went about their everyday chores topless. It seems Tapan was struck by these images that he depicted similar scenes in his own way. He went in search of that “pristine” way, which is now very rare. When he got none he hired a model to go topless, a very young Kankanaey-Ibaloi who had done nude modeling for artists like Ben Cabrera, who formerly owns Tam-Awan Village, convincing her that she was doing it to help preserve her culture.

This is a deliberate attempt to foment exoticism, which can only come from an outsider or visitor. And Tapan admits to being a visitor. His photographs were taken in passing as a frequent visitor, he said, unlike Masferre, who immersed in the culture and lived in the community.

This is also a kind of romanticism for which Tapan is known: beautiful land with beautiful women. Somehow it is a very heterosexual male point of view. One can see them around, these touristic posters with women, flower tucked in their hair, in flowing and thin sarongs walking along a beach, posing with a volcano at the backdrop, or enjoying the view of a waterfall. This the Tapan trademark, his “signature,” he says, that identifies him.

“Kasi mas marami ang tumitingin (Because more people look at them),” he says.

This signature can be traced back during the days when Tapan was doing fashion photography.
Tapan comes from a prominent family of photographers, hailing from the sleepy town of Unisan in the province of Quezon. During family reunions, talk will always revolve around cameras. His father Gregorio was the first one. Then George, together with his brothers Edgar and Donald, followed his steps, starting to take pictures just after high school. But George says he veered away from “tradition” by treating photography more as an art rather than as a source of livelihood.

George began professional photography by taking still pictures for films. Then he went into newspapers. His career began to blossom in the mid-'70s when he was taken on board the magazine Sunburst, where he did fashion spreads until he gradually got travel assignments. Even while he was shooting for fashion, he manifested a penchant for scenery. He would always insist on shooting on location, with the models set against a picturesque backdrop. The studio set-up is boring, he believed. This is where perhaps his signature look developed.

Always freelance, Tapan has never been employed full-time. He enjoys this kind of freedom. His works now adorn all the offices of the Department of Tourism and airports all over the country, have been featured in coffee-table books and in-flight magazines, and have been into postcards.

Now with this exhibit, he is enjoying a kind of freedom--to show his own expressions and his own take of his encounters, unfettered by commissions and the need to be glossy. And despite the lack of vibrant colors and the display of the grittier side, a lasting beauty subtly shines through—the soul traipsing between shadow and light.

Prior to the exhibit, George Tapan will be conducting a photography workshop from Feb. 21 to 23. Coinciding with the exhibit is the launch of the Philippine Travel Photographers' Society. For inquiries on the exhibit and workshop, call 659-0463 or email travel_photography@yahoo.com.

Published in The Daily Tribune, February 8, 2008