Lullaby phrasings: Ili Ili Statements at ILOMOCA

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By John Anthony S. Estolloso

Explore the Hulot Gallery of Iloilo Museum of Contemporary Art (ILOMOCA) one of these days and you will find motherhood statements in forms, visions, and representations. Aptly titled Ili Ili Statements, the select collection of artworks by women artists reimagines the gallery into a creative space of maternal expression. Yet, it is also a strongly ‘worded’ declaration, in a metaphorical sense, of the travails of maternity.

Opened last December 5 and curated by Gina Olivares-Jocson, the exhibition featured the works of ten women artists: Moreen Austria, Margaux Blas, Marge Chavez, Marika Constantino, Olive Gloria, Elwah Gonzales, Shane Martinez, Angela Silva, Janine Tolores, and Marienell Veñegas. While I write this article from a male sensibility, I was fortunate to have the chance to listen to the artists talk about their works. Moderated by the curator, the gallery walk the next day was an insightful exchange between artist and audience, further elevating the artworks on display as subjects of conflicted though dominantly feminist interpretations as well as reiterations of existent perspectives of motherhood.

We are familiar with the opening lines of the traditional Ilonggo lullaby: Ili-ili tulog anay / Wa-ay diri imu nanay / Kadto tienda bakal papay. Referencing the act of lulling a child to sleep, the exhibit collectively delves into the conventional notions of maternity yet also breaking through aspirations of what motherhood could achieve. In the artworks, the mother-figure wears various hats: life-giver, homemaker, educator, arbiter, memory-keeper, and world-guardian.

Metaphors abound in the art. The odds and ends of patterned weaves of patadyong in Marienell Veñegas’s still-lives underline the traditional and perceived connections between clothing and motherhood, both of which embrace the human form in emotional nuances.  Marika Constantino’s ‘Enacted Embodiments’ raises the cryptogram as a literal statement for decoding: thread and paper weave together the enigma of memory and insight, but it is left to the viewer to decipher the meanings out of these. Through Constantino’s art, the act of needlework reverberates as memory-setting and preservation, while its decoding becomes a scrutiny of sense and a reexamination of the past. Then again, are these not the basic acts which provide motherhood statements their depth and wisdom?

Assemblages and installations further probe into these ideas of scrutiny and reexamination. Moreen Austria’s reconfiguration of the bitter history of Negros’ sugar industry is constructed through a golem of cloth sitting on mattings of jute sacks; lines of ants crawl on its persona while offspring-figures hang about in contorted postures all over its corpus. Elwah Gonzales’ sculpture of shards of glass entwined around mundane object exude an abrasive sharpness which holds together a mother and her child. Taking on a more environmental stance, Margaux Blas’ assemblage brims with neon nostalgia; a closer look reveals upcycled materials of plastic bottles, discarded wrappers, old newspapers, and gardening tools – if motherhood aligns itself with the archetypal earth-goddess, then its artistic interpretation must likewise become statements of environmental advocacy.

History and narrative are enshrined in the faces punctuating the abstract pieces. Marge Chavez’s portraiture holds on to poignant sentimentality even as it tries to exude and impose emotional detachment: the eyes say it all. Janine Tolores and Olive Gloria’s self-portraits rendered through various mediums take on a layered exploration of the self, perhaps as antitheses to the idea of motherhood and yet also keeping touch with maternal femininity. As if to hold artistic mimesis into account, their artworks become shadows of a shadow, almost in a literal sense. Angela Silva’s cyanotype is a historical exposition, the azure tints and hues emphasizing the old documents and snapshots of genealogy, while recalling stories of separation and location – blue becomes the color of ocean and sea, of the spanning distance and of distant longing.

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During the artists’ talk, participants from the local art scene – artists and art enthusiasts alike – raised questions about the sundry processes as well as interpretations that went into the creation of the exhibit. Representative artists from the ongoing Linangan Art Residency were also present. Going beyond the mere reading of what is shown in the gallery was the question of how interactions such as these can go beyond the formal spaces of art. As befits its theme, conversation shifted to how appreciation must transcend through gallery walls – very much like how maternal affections go beyond sheer appearances.

Consider Hulot Gallery as a womb-space, the artistic corner elevated as a nurturing yonic vessel where ideas and idealisms are cherished and cultivated. Far from the cliché, the phrasings and visualizations mirror what is endurant and sensible; aptly put, they are motherhood statements. They lull us to a reassuring sense of familiarity and comfort.

(The writer is a language and literature teacher in one of the private schools of the city. Photos are from Yanni Ysabel Panaguiton.)