‘Signs of Life’ at the Celso V. Ledesma House

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By John Anthony S. Estolloso

There is that house at Ortiz Street, with stone eagles imperiously perched atop the columns of its walls.

At its heyday, the Celso V. Ledesma House witnessed many a soiree attended by personalities of the city: it was a place of gaiety, art, and the urbane life. But in recent decades, it has been left desolately silent, the faded paint on its walls surrendering to the sordid mix of urban dirt and smoke, its eagles the only iconic remembrance recognizable to passersby and commuters. The turns of time mayhap diminished the house’s old grandeur, its parquet floors and sundry antiquities gathering dust and forgetfulness while its murals inside mutely wait for company and good cheer to fill its chambers again.

Last May 16, life – and light – permeated the venerable house again.

That day, there were ‘Signs of Life’ in its once-empty rooms. A hodgepodge of exhibits, activities, and experimentations, these art interventions sprouted in the unlikeliest of places, complementing the artworks and designs of the house in lively juxtapositions and endowing the ancestral house a fresh veneer of aesthetic conviviality. Interwoven through its displays of neoclassical murals and portraits are the modern and the contemporary, the stark anachronism framing the structure through newer understandings of how the Beautiful endures even as it undergoes variations and elaborations.

But more than just juxtapositions, ‘Signs of Life’ reinvigorated the idea of art as response and renaissance: situated in the architecture of the past, Art – and the artist – confront the challenges and desires of the present.

In what used to be the house’s library and dining hall were installations by Inshallah Montero; Zippy Saint Thomas’s multisensory works were tucked in the shadows of the ground floor rooms, their murky darkness providing the lambent lights the ambiance needed for the art. Entwined at the house’s gates were Margaux Blas’ interactive weavings, its droll title and centerpiece reminding the passersby of the ever-present canine sentinels at the grounds.

Up at the azotea, Marrz Capanang and Kristine Buenavista’s installation of encaged wings, its ruffled feathers contrasting with the shattered shards of glass beneath, evoked a material albeit deconstructed echo of Angie, the family’s eagle that used to pontificate over passers-by on the street. Through the narrow passageway leading from the pantry, one encountered an assemblage of wooden pieces by Miguel Lopez; another by Margaux Blas put together a bricolage of found objects – icons and objects of the 80s and 90s – as if to provide the viewer another visual chapter of the house’s history.

In the morning was a zine-making workshop, the many-colored products of which were displayed on the house’s iconic horseshoe-shaped dinner table. There was music and sound installations and a vigorous flipping through vinyl records, tapes, and CDs. All over and outside the house, there was graffiti art and interactives where both artist and appreciator found common grounds of conversation and critique. Everything was everywhere all at once.

Admittedly, this writer was not able to witness all the performances by the artists nor delve deeply into the artworks exhibited. (Another art event was calling.) But the afternoon’s brief mingling into that hubbub of humanity made up for it: in the closeness of company milling through the rooms, the lively conversation running through all directions, the subdued appreciation in searching eyes and whispered comments.  At the background, Vicente San Miguel’s murals seemed to approve quietly, their somber colors ostensibly flicker with demure excitement at the renascent scene unfolding.

Outside facing the street, artists from Kikik Kollektive emblazoned the perimeter’s wall with an excerpt from Carl Lorenz Cervantes’ essay on culture, with wheat-paste and in capital letters: “Ang kultura ginapanubli kag para magpadayon iní nga buhi, kinahanglan iní itudlo, ipakíta, idíhon, kag ipaambit sa tanan – Culture is inherited and for it to continue to live (or to flourish), it must be taught, shown, practiced, and shared to all.”

And quite rightly so. Culture is built by artists pouring their souls onto their work, by the inquisitive folk who mill around and gaze deeply into the canvas and installation, by the local vendors plying their wares in participation and contribution to the traffic of ideas and sentiments, by the barangay residents consummately enjoying the art and architecture as much as the artists and connoisseurs. These are the signs of life manifested by a thriving culture, a vibrant art scene – and riding on this month’s celebration, a valued national heritage.

In that sense, the Celso V. Ledesma House becomes an interstice and shared space for all these, gathering within its walls the continuation of the narratives that have unfolded within through the years. These art interventions – and its communal nature – adds a curious chapter to its story – as such, the house breathes once more: it teems with life, culture, and art.

(The writer is a history and humanities teacher in one of the private schools of the city. The photos are from Mariela Angella Oladive.)