Who says sarswela is dead?

By Noel Galon de Leon

On the evening of July 4, 2026, the UPHSI Junior Theatre Arts Club, the UPHSI Kundiman and Gongs Ensemble, and the UPV Living Room Theatre reminded their audience that university theatre remains one of the most vital cultural forces in Iloilo City. At a time when commercial entertainment dominates public attention and digital media constantly reshapes cultural consumption, productions such as Katipayan: Ang Luha sang Kataw demonstrate that the sarswela continues to evolve without abandoning its historical identity. Rather than preserving tradition as a museum artifact, this production proves that the form can still function as a living performance language capable of speaking to contemporary audiences.

The production succeeds because it understands that sarswela has always been adaptive. As scholar Doreen Fernandez argued, Philippine sarswela emerged not as a simple imitation of the Spanish zarzuela but through a process of indigenization and transformation. Its dialogue, music, dance, and dramatic structure were reshaped according to local histories, languages, and social realities. Katipayan: Ang Luha sang Kataw embraces this philosophy wholeheartedly. Instead of relying on nostalgic conventions, it reimagines the genre through Kinaray-a mythology, local geography, ethnomusicology, and contemporary theatrical techniques. The result is neither an antiquarian exercise nor an experimental production detached from tradition. It becomes an example of cultural continuity through artistic reinvention.

The narrative itself is ambitious. Set in Antique, the story follows Naya, whose encounter with the mysterious siren song of Katipayan transports her into a mythical realm where memory, ancestry, and cosmology intersect. Through the legends surrounding Katipayan, Linog, Buhawi, Tinagong Dagat, and Mount Baloy, the production constructs a theatrical universe where myth is treated not merely as folklore but as a cultural archive. The play effectively collapses the boundaries between the human and supernatural worlds, suggesting that indigenous belief systems continue to shape contemporary identities even when they appear forgotten.

What impressed me most was how the production treated myth not simply as fantasy but as cultural memory. The performance respected indigenous imagination without reducing it to exotic spectacle. Instead, mythology functioned as an epistemological framework through which grief, longing, ancestry, and belonging were understood. This gave the production emotional depth beyond its romantic storyline. The mythical world became an extension of lived experience rather than an escape from it.

The direction of Alfredo B. Diaz deserves particular recognition for maintaining a coherent theatrical language despite the production’s complexity. Mythological narratives often risk becoming visually overwhelming or dramatically fragmented. Diaz avoids this trap by grounding the spectacle in emotional relationships rather than visual excess. The pacing generally sustains narrative momentum while allowing moments of silence and stillness to acquire equal dramatic weight. His experience as both theatre scholar and practitioner is evident in his ability to balance dramaturgical discipline with imaginative freedom.

The musical direction by Jose R. Taton Jr. and Micah Jelyn N. Perez provides the production’s emotional architecture. The collaboration between the Kundiman Ensemble and the Gongs Ensemble creates a fascinating sonic landscape where Western orchestral textures converse with indigenous rhythmic traditions. Instead of existing as accompaniment, music becomes a narrative agent. Songs reveal psychological states, establish ritual spaces, and reinforce the mythical atmosphere. The integration of ethnomusicological elements never feels forced because the score understands the cultural origins of its materials rather than appropriating them for aesthetic novelty.

The production design by Wesley Tangao, together with Kathleen Ricci Esteral, deserves equal praise. The visual environment successfully negotiated the difficult task of staging myth without sacrificing theatrical economy. Scenic compositions transformed fluidly between the ordinary and the supernatural, allowing audiences to travel across multiple realities with remarkable clarity. The set design demonstrated an understanding that theatrical space functions symbolically rather than literally. Every scenic transition reinforced the production’s central themes of transformation, memory, and spiritual geography.

Among the performers, Julia Marie Barcelona delivered an emotionally grounded portrayal that anchored the production’s shifting realities. Her interpretation of Naya resisted melodramatic excess and instead relied upon gradual emotional accumulation. Carl Andrie Cuenco offered a compelling performance marked by disciplined physicality and vocal control. Christian Gb Badiango displayed commanding stage presence while maintaining sensitivity toward ensemble dynamics, a quality often overlooked in student theatre. Franchezka Raine Raborar likewise demonstrated remarkable emotional precision, contributing nuance to scenes requiring both vulnerability and strength. Their performances collectively elevated the production beyond competent student work and approached a level of artistic maturity rarely encountered in university theatre.

The ensemble deserves recognition as well. Every actor contributed to an atmosphere of collective storytelling rather than individual exhibition. This sense of ensemble discipline is increasingly rare in contemporary productions where performers often compete for attention instead of constructing shared dramatic space. Here, even smaller roles enriched the theatrical world through carefully calibrated movement, gesture, and vocal presence.

The musicians likewise deserve immense recognition. Their performance was technically disciplined while remaining emotionally responsive to the actors onstage. Live music is often one of the most vulnerable components of musical theatre because it requires constant negotiation between dramatic rhythm and musical precision. The ensemble navigated these demands with admirable consistency, creating an immersive soundscape that never overwhelmed the dramatic action.

Yet the production is not without areas that could be strengthened. Its greatest ambition is also its greatest challenge. Because the mythology is remarkably rich, several narrative transitions occur with such speed that audiences unfamiliar with Antique folklore may struggle to fully understand the relationships between the mythical figures. Certain dramaturgical moments would benefit from greater narrative clarity, particularly during the movement between Naya’s lived reality and her mythological transformation into Katipayan. A slightly more deliberate exposition during the first act could deepen audience investment without sacrificing momentum.

Similarly, while the visual symbolism remained consistently compelling, there were moments when the density of mythological references exceeded their theatrical explanation. The production trusted its audience, which is commendable, but selective refinement of dramaturgical signposts could make the emotional stakes even more accessible to viewers encountering these stories for the first time.

There were also instances where vocal projection competed with the richness of the live musical accompaniment. Although the orchestration was beautifully executed, careful recalibration of musical dynamics during dialogue-heavy scenes would allow textual nuances to emerge with greater clarity. This is less a criticism of performance quality than an opportunity to further strengthen the balance between speech and music in future stagings.

These observations, however, should not overshadow the production’s considerable achievements. They reflect the challenges inherent in staging an intellectually ambitious work rather than evidence of artistic shortcomings. In fact, the production’s willingness to embrace complexity is precisely what distinguishes it from safer and more predictable theatrical offerings.

Watching this performance left me with both admiration and a lingering sense of possibility. I could not help but imagine what this creative team might accomplish with greater institutional investment, expanded touring opportunities, and larger production resources. If regional theatre companies like UPV Living Room Theatre receive sustained financial and cultural support, they are more than capable of producing original sarswelas that contribute meaningfully to the national theatrical repertoire. Too often, regional theatre is expected to survive through passion alone. Passion is indispensable, but sustainable artistic excellence also requires consistent investment.

More importantly, Katipayan: Ang Luha sang Kataw reminds us why university theatre matters. Educational institutions are not merely training grounds for future professionals. They are cultural laboratories where communities negotiate memory, identity, and artistic innovation. Productions like this cultivate audiences as much as they cultivate artists. They encourage younger generations to see indigenous narratives not as relics of the past but as living sources of imagination and knowledge.

This performance ultimately succeeds because it understands that cultural preservation is never about repetition. Tradition survives only when artists possess the courage to reinterpret it. Katipayan: Ang Luha sang Kataw demonstrates that the sarswela remains capable of transformation while remaining faithful to its cultural foundations. It is a production that mourns, remembers, sings, and imagines all at once. Long after the final curtain fell, what remained was not simply the memory of a performance but the conviction that regional theatre continues to produce some of the most intellectually vibrant and emotionally resonant works in Philippine performance today.

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Noel Galon de Leon is a writer and professor at the University of the Philippines Visayas, where he teaches in the Division of Professional Education and at UP High School in Iloilo. He is also the Secretary of the National Commission for Culture and the Arts-National Committee on Literary Arts.