Basyo

Clark Sigua Manalo’s latest solo exhibition, BASYÓ, delves anew into the world of fisherfolk by exploring the objects they use daily and their symbolic weight. Working close to the Navotas fish port where his studio is located, the artist captures the essence of adaptability, utility, and the cyclical nature of life through humble plastic and styrofoam containers that he fills with images of the fishermen he encounters, their tools, and what they catch. They are then splintered and split with Manalo's painstakingly detailed painting technique and well-planned mappings of vivid colors, with cleverly placed glitches recurring as in the artist's past exhibitions.

BASYÓ tells the story of these lightweight containers and the people who use them, who find such junked treasures precious in their everyday endeavors. Though recycled, they are treated with care to last longer, and they are usually found stacked neatly after long nights of labor to signify the completion of the day's work. Manalo observes their durability, noting how they withstand daily use until they finally break, mirroring the relentless labor of Filipinos who work tirelessly in all conditions. The artist also portrays their bodies occupying the empty containers in full armor against the elements–rain ponchos, improvised diving masks, rubber boots, and life vests with comfortable sandos and shorts–along with the tools of their trade: fishnets, bobbers, oars, coils of rope, kerosene- and beer bottle- lanterns, and their unwavering resolve to make an honest living from the sea, uncaring of the dredges, water lily fronds, loose branches, and other marine debris they encounter.

"Hinahatak, binubuhat, ihinahagis, pinagpapasa-pasahan (pulled, carried, thrown, and passed around)"; Manalo explains of the BASYÓ, highlighting how they serve as a metaphor for the daily grind of the common worker, who exerts physical strength intensively just to survive, while those in privileged positions keep nonchalant airs yet reap greater rewards. Despite their hard work, the containers—and by extension, the workers—who play a crucial role in supplying our food deserve attention and better treatment. The artist emphasizes that BASYÓ has a different utility, especially in the fishing industry, from the start of work until its completion. He also points out that people often overlook the potential uses of an empty styrofoam box once it is discarded, especially as padding or protective molds for electronics. However, some see its value and find ways to recycle it—using it as a flotation device during floods or a storage container for important items, essential in a country facing the threat of climate change whose parts are increasingly found now under water. This use of the styrofoam box then reflects a broader, metaphoric idea: whether something is deemed worthless or valuable is often a matter of perspective and how it is used. Tragically, when these containers are no longer useful, they often end up polluting the environment, a poignant reminder of the environmental impact of discarded items. Manalo’s work prompts us to reconsider our perceptions and lend more importance not only to the empty containers where ice can be added to protect and preserve seafood to attain perfect freshness, it is also a call to safeguard the stewards of our waters, conserve the limited resources they find livelihood in, and learn from their inventiveness as they find new uses for what we deem old.