By Noel Galon de Leon

AT FIRST GLANCE, Sal-ing Series 1 appears to be a simple representation of nature. A solitary Sal-ing bird perches on a dry branch against an endless expanse of blue sky. There is no dramatic landscape, no intricate narrative, and no visual extravagance that immediately demands attention. Yet it is precisely this simplicity that gives the work its strength. It does not seek instant admiration. Instead, it asks for slow looking, contemplative observation, and a willingness to notice the details that the eye often overlooks. In an age when our vision is conditioned by the endless scrolling of digital images, the work’s insistence that we pause and truly look becomes a radical statement in itself.

The artwork becomes even more significant when one understands the process behind its creation. This is not just a photograph exhibited on a display panel in a mall. It began as a carefully captured photograph that was later printed on canvas. Acrylic paint was then applied over the image, transforming it into a mixed media artwork. Through this process, the traditional boundary between photography and painting dissolves. The photograph ceases to be merely a record of a moment in nature; instead, it becomes a surface that can be altered, expanded, and reinterpreted through paint.

This is more than a matter of technique. It represents a new aesthetic direction championed by Katilingban Biswal, the artists’ collective to which Ruperto P. Quitag belongs. Rather than treating photography as a finished artwork, the group regards it as the starting point for deeper artistic intervention. In their works, acrylic paint is not simply decorative. It becomes a means of reconstructing the experience of seeing itself. While the camera records reality, paint imbues it with renewed sensitivity, emotional resonance, and visual depth. The result is a work that can no longer be classified as purely photography nor entirely painting. It is a creative fusion of two disciplines long regarded as separate.

This approach presents a quiet yet powerful challenge to one of the oldest biases in art. For centuries, photography has often been viewed as a medium of documentation, while painting has been considered the true domain of artistic originality. Sal-ing Series 1 refutes this distinction. It demonstrates that creativity does not depend on the medium itself but on the artist’s ability to transform the way we see. Genuine originality arises not only from creating new images but from offering new ways of understanding them.

The composition of the work is remarkably effective. The dry branch begins in the lower left corner of the canvas and rises diagonally toward the bird perched at its tip. This diagonal composition creates a sense of movement within what appears to be a still scene. The viewer’s eye naturally follows the direction of the branch until it arrives at the bird, which serves as the primary focal point. The eye never wanders because every visual element is carefully organized.

Equally noteworthy is the intelligent use of negative space. The vast blue expanse surrounding the tree and bird does not suggest emptiness. Rather, it provides silence, openness, and room for contemplation. At a time when many artworks are crowded with details designed to capture immediate attention, Quitag chooses the opposite approach. The absence of excess elements strengthens the presence of the single bird. The blue sky becomes a space for reflection rather than a mere background.

The asymmetrical balance of the composition further reveals the artist’s skill. Although the large form of the tree visually outweighs the left side of the composition, this is balanced by the small yet crucial presence of the bird above. The vivid red marking on the bird’s head serves as a visual accent that immediately captures the eye. The work demonstrates that visual weight in art depends not on size but on the strategic use of color, placement, and contrast.

The color palette is highly restrained, and this restraint gives the work much of its power. Dominating the composition is a rich ultramarine blue that envelops the entire scene. Blue may evoke tranquility, freedom, hope, or even solitude. Rather than imposing a specific emotional response, the artist allows viewers the freedom to bring their own feelings to the work.

The warm brown tones of the dry branch provide a counterpoint to the cool blue of the sky. The texture of the wood seems to bear the marks of time. Cracks, rough surfaces, and traces of nature become even more pronounced through the application of acrylic paint. Meanwhile, the bird’s small patch of red becomes the brightest color in the composition. Though minute, it is sufficient to become the center of visual tension. It proves that effective color is determined not by abundance but by thoughtful placement.

One of the most compelling qualities of the work is its texture. The surface of the wood becomes almost sculptural through the layering of acrylic paint. The bark appears tactile, as though it could be touched because of the depth of its detail. The bird’s feathers retain their photographic precision while gaining an added dimension through the intervention of paint. By contrast, the blue sky remains comparatively smooth, creating a clear distinction between rough and polished surfaces. This interplay of textures gives physical presence to what originally began as a photograph.

The artwork also possesses another dimension that is rarely discussed. Photography inherently freezes a single instant in time—a fleeting moment that disappears the instant the shutter is pressed. Painting, by contrast, accumulates time. Every layer of acrylic records the movement of the artist’s hand. By combining these two media, the work unites two different experiences of time. The precise moment captured by the camera remains, but it is enriched by the slower, more deliberate duration of painting. The artwork becomes a record not only of a single moment but also of the creative process itself.

The choice of the Sal-ing bird as the subject is equally significant. It is not presented as an exotic creature or a decorative element of nature. Instead, it appears in its ordinary state as part of the natural ecology of Aningalan. There are no human figures in the scene, nor any signs of modern infrastructure. Only the tree, the bird, and the sky remain. The absence of humanity quietly reminds us that nature possesses a life of its own, one that does not revolve around our presence.

At a time when environmental conservation is often communicated through images of deforestation and endangered wildlife, Quitag takes a different path. He does not rely on tragedy to awaken concern. Instead, he presents an ordinary scene that we too often overlook. The work seems to suggest that genuine care for nature begins with the simple ability to stop and truly look.

Sal-ing Series 1 also raises a deeper question about our culture of seeing. In the age of social media, millions of images pass before our eyes every day. Yet how many of them do we truly see? We have become accustomed to scrolling quickly, glancing briefly, and immediately moving on to the next image. Gradually, we lose our capacity for sustained contemplation.

This is where Quitag’s mixed media practice becomes especially meaningful. By layering acrylic paint over photography, he resists the rapid consumption of images. The artwork cannot be appreciated in a matter of seconds. The very materiality of the paint demands prolonged engagement. The image is no longer simply a digital representation but a physical object with its own presence, weight, and permanence.

Placed within the broader context of Katilingban Biswal, Sal-ing Series 1 is more than a successful mixed media artwork. It is a statement about new possibilities for contemporary Philippine art. The group demonstrates that photography and painting need not remain separate disciplines. Instead, they can merge to create a new visual vocabulary that challenges long-standing ideas about originality, the authority of medium, and artistic practice.

Sal-ing Series 1 is not merely about a bird perched on a dry branch. It is a meditation on the very act of seeing. It reminds us that genuine innovation in art does not always arise from producing startling or sensational images. Sometimes, an ordinary scene, a camera, a canvas, and a few layers of acrylic paint are enough to transform the way we perceive the world. Through this work, Ruperto P. Quitag suggests that the future of contemporary Philippine art may lie not in rigid divisions between artistic media but in the creative space that emerges when those media freely converge. Sal-ing Series 1 is more than a beautiful artwork—it is a compelling invitation to learn how to see again.

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[This essay forms part of the author’s continuing series of critical reviews on Art for Everyone 2026, a public exhibition celebrating the works of Ilonggo artists from throughout Western Visayas. 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.]