Even the Light Can Sing | June 6 - June 27, 2926 Even the Light Can Sing Billy Bagtas June 6 - June 27, 2926 DSC03361.jpg DSC03365.jpg DSC03362.jpg DSC03361.jpg 1/6 View Catalogue Video Press Release You may have always believed that darkness is not simply the absence of light, but a place one must pass through like a long storm before summer. In the works of Billy Bagtas, darkness feels alive, restless, and stubborn, much like the human heart when it refuses to give up. Purple bleeds into green; blue trembles beneath the shadow. These colors intend to ache, to be remembered, they insist on being felt. Yet within that heaviness, something brave begins to stir, a small, determined glow, as if light itself has found the courage to sing. Even the Light Can Sing is a story of survival written in color and memory. There's no such thing as a tale of perfect triumph, nor of easy redemption. Rather, Billy intends to be an honest account of someone who has fallen, risen, and fallen again, yet still chooses to stand. We find ourselves speaking inwardly as we move from one canvas to the next, encouraging our own heart as we might encourage a dear sister: “Be patient. Be brave. Keep going.” The main piece from this exhibition stands “After Dreams”, the main piece that gathers all the others around it like companions on a long journey. It is a painting caught between sleep and waking, between sorrow and hope. We don't have to pretend to know the answers, and we should admire ourselves for that greatly. There is a humility in searching, a quiet strength in admitting that one is still learning how to live. Looking at it, we feel compelled to tell ourselves: “You are still in the middle of your story.” Even after the darkest chapter, even after disappointments that seem too heavy to carry, life continues to unfold. Dreams patiently for us to gather the courage to follow them again. In “Self-Portrait with a Cat”, We sense a gentler lesson, one about kindness toward oneself. The cat, nestled close, feels like a loyal companion, a reminder that affection need not be grand to be meaningful. Caring for another creature teaches the heart how to care for itself. We confess that we have often been too hard on our own spirits, expecting strength without offering tenderness. Yet this painting seems to whisper: “You deserve gentleness as much as anyone.” Faith makes its quiet entrance in “To Pray”, and we cannot help but feel a deep respect for the honesty within it. For Billy, prayer here is not ornamental or polite. It is earnest, desperate, and sincere, the sort of prayer uttered when one has reached the very end of one’s strength. And still, prayer remained a small lantern carried through the dark. But courage does not mean certainty. In “Sometimes I Feel Lost”, we recognize the uneasy truth that even the most determined soul can feel uncertain. One may walk forward with the best intentions and still wonder whether the path is the right one. There is something wonderfully human about that doubt. It shows that the heart is awake, searching, and unwilling to settle for a life without purpose. “Two Shadows Under the Moonlight” touches Billy deeply, for it speaks of friendship, the kind that endures storms and sorrow. The two figures stand together beneath a quiet glow, and Billy is reminded that companionship is one of life’s greatest mercies. To have someone remain beside you in your darkest hours is proof that love can be steady even when the world feels uncertain. A sense of peace begins to settle in “Devotion”, where the landscape rests beneath a gentle light. The darkness here feels restful, like the stillness after tears have been shed. Billy suggests to us that healing sometimes arrives quietly, like dawn slipping through the curtains. In “Spirit Love”, we should find a lesson we have struggled to learn that forgiveness is not softness, but strength. It takes great courage to release anger and choose kindness instead. The heart, though wounded, can still offer love. Love is the truest evidence that one has survived hardship without losing one’s humanity. The exhibition reaches its most stirring moment in “Still Alive”, a self-portrait that feels fragile. The figure appears to rise from sorrow with newfound wings, as though discovering the possibility of flight after believing it impossible. A quiet, resolute statement: “I am still here.” Standing before this painting, Billy wants us to feel a sudden rush of gratitude for breath, for second chances, for the stubborn resilience that keeps us moving forward even when we feel broken. There is bravery in simply continuing, in choosing life again and again despite fear and exhaustion. Throughout Even the Light Can Sing, darkness and light exist side by side. The shadows teach endurance; the light teaches hope. Together, they shape a life that is honest, imperfect, and beautifully human. And so, you may leave the exhibition with a thought that feels both soft and uneasy—one you might write in your journal late at night, after a difficult day: Even after sorrow, even after failure, even after feeling as though one’s heart has broken a thousand times, there remains a small and faithful light within us. It may flicker. It may grow faint. But it never truly disappears. And if we listen closely enough, we may hear it softly, bravely— singing us forward. Because love is the only way. - Joan Velasquez

KITASABITAK | May 10-31, 2025 KITASABITAK Doktor Karayom May 10-31, 2025 1/8 View Catalogue Video Press Release Altar Egos In KITASABITAK, Doktor Karayom steps into the literal and figurative fissures of memory, faith, and form. In what may be his most pensive exhibition yet, he turns to the image of the santo: broken, dismembered, forgotten, but never discarded. A figure once revered on pedestals is reexamined not for its divinity, but for the cracks that have come to define it. The exhibition’s title, a wordplay in Filipino, combines kita (to see) and bitak (crack). But it is no simple visual pun. The artist posits cracks as both literal and symbolic fissures—whether in sacred objects, systems of belief, or the faithful themselves. It resonates with Karayom’s meditation on sanctity, abandonment, transformation, and faith as a fragile but persistent structure, and compels us viewers to ask: What do we see in the cracks? In the fractures of plaster, clay, and cement, do we glimpse decay, transformation, or divine intervention? What once functioned as a sacred object and familial witness—the household santo—has, in Karayom’s eyes, undergone quiet mutation. Inspired by childhood recollections and a more recent encounter with an abandoned house where an old Sto. Niño sat armless and dustcovered, KITASABITAK meditates on what it means when objects of veneration are left behind. Are they orphaned or merely outdated? If saints once stood beside families in moments of grief and celebration, what does their abandonment tell us about the shifting terrain of belief? The central sculpture—an eight-foot-tall figure made of Karayom’s own blend of clay taking on the surface character of petrified stone—embodies the fragility and resilience of these saints. Armless, foot resting upon a severed head, its skin embedded with tiny cherubs, the sculpture is both an idol and an echo. Surrounding it are hundreds of red-painted sculpted hands strewn across the floor, supplicant, severed, reaching. These hands stand in for faith: lost, fractured, and renewed. Echoes of Greco-Roman mythology and anime-style regeneration emerge like Athena bursting from Zeus’ head and spirits reassembling in battle after being annihilated. And then, chaos gives way to multiplicity. Scattered on the floor: miniature human figures, each with a distinct gesture, posture, or contortion—some in headstands, others standing tall. They form an obstacle course of bodies and metaphors, inviting viewers to tread carefully. Like navigating prayer or crisis, the path is neither linear nor guaranteed. Our minds, Karayom suggests, move through mazes when we ask for answers from above. A gallery wall is populated with one-foot-tall saint-like forms, their poses suggestive of dance or possession. They blur the line between divine animation and marionette spectacle. Who moves the santo? The spirit, or the strings? As they sway between reverence and performance, we are reminded of how image merges with belief, and how belief merges with the self. Elsewhere, wall-mounted heads—each around four by five feet—feature cracked surfaces adorned with filigree, iconography, and branching lines. These decorations may be looked at as fractures, like the creases in a palm, mapping out unknown destinies and lived histories. The head becomes a site of divination. One, in particular, becomes an altar: a flesh-toned Christ figure surrounded by cherubic witnesses, mirroring the viewers who come to reflect. The final ensemble: three cement sculptures, muted in color but marked with imprints of coins. These forms resemble bulul figures, and their surfaces recall the worn depressions in folk altars where coins are placed, not only as an offering, but as an invitation for prosperity. The reference here crosses belief systems, tying pagan, Catholic, and Chinese folk traditions into a unified gesture of seeking relief from worldly needs. Doktor Karayom does not mock belief. He does not sanctify it, either. Instead, in KITASABITAK, he turns belief inside out, letting its cracks breathe and letting its fragments and components disperse. The santo is no longer just a proxy for the divine—it is a repository of longing, projection, and survival. What animates the sculpture is not holiness, but the viewer’s gaze—the hope, doubt, and grief they bring to it. And in that, perhaps, lies its miracle Kaye O’Yek

Flocking Animals | February 21 - 23, 2025 Flocking Animals Guerrero Habulan February 21 - 23, 2025 1/13 View Catalogue Video Press Release For his solo exhibition Flocking Animals, presented by Art Cube for Art Fair Philippines, Guerrero Habulan delves into the dynamics of congregation—the unseen forces that draw individuals together, shaping collective identity and critical mass. Through his layered, intricate compositions, he dissects the interplay of devotion, tradition, and historical burden that define the post-colonial Filipino experience. Habulan’s fascination with mass gatherings stems from his long-time documentation of native feasts, particularly the Traslación in Quiapo and the Holy Week processions in Pampanga, where fervent devotees engage in self-flagellation and crucifixion rites. These rituals, steeped in Catholic symbolism, also reveal a deeper syncretic nature, merging indigenous and colonial influences into a singular, complex spiritual expression. In his works, this convergence manifests through figures in flux—assembled, moving, and drawn toward an unseen yet palpable force at the heart of the composition. Revisiting and reconfiguring past motifs, Habulan transforms the once-passive “sitting ducks” into standing figures—emboldened, resolute, no longer merely subjects of fate but agents within a collective movement. His figures, often juxtaposed with Western iconography both real and imagined, refuse subjugation. Instead, they stand their ground, meeting the gaze of history—and the viewer—with unwavering presence. The visual intensity of Flocking Animals is reinforced by Habulan’s dynamic use of oil and acrylic on both paper and canvas, integrating techniques drawn from Abstract Expressionism, figuration, and serigraphy. His approach embodies paradox—disparate elements coexisting in a unified pictorial event. The artist refers to this as “conjoined,” where no singular element can be removed without disrupting the whole. Multiplicity does not fragment but rather fortifies, creating a visual dialogue that mirrors the layered realities of Filipino identity. At its core, Flocking Animals is both an inquiry into and an affirmation of the collective—its power, its resilience, and its capacity to forge meaning from history’s remnants. In an era of fragmentation and uncertainty, Habulan’s work reminds us that in coming together, we do not merely survive; we assert our strength, solidarity, and fortitude. -Carlomar Arcangel Daoana Guerrero Habulan Born in Manila in the 1980s, Guerrero Habulan became aware of the ironies of community and elite authority at a very young age. As a child, he started making space for himself in the cluttered working table of his father, renowned social realist Renato Habulan, finding it natural to draw and doodle on the paper scraps he found. He tried to create a path away from art before he entered the University of the Philippines College of Fine Arts program, but eventually found his way back in 2001 when he won Third Place in the 18th Young Painters Annual Competition of the Metrobank Foundation. In 2003, he was awarded the top prize in the 36th Shell National Students Art Competition. He is the 2011 and 2025 Vermont Studio Center Artist in Residency Awardee and was an artist in residence at Artesan Art Gallery Singapore in 2012. He was also one of the CCP Thirteen Artists Awardees in 2018 and is a member of Sangviaje, a group of young contemporary artists based in Antipolo. He has mounted solo exhibitions in the Boston Gallery, Ayala Museum Artist Space, Pinto Art Museum, BenCab Museum, Art Verite, Art Fair PH with Art Cube Philippines, and the Cultural Center of the Philippines, as well as Utterly Art and Artesan Art Gallery in Singapore. Habulan has also participated in notable group shows in Singapore, Kuala Lumpur, Copenhagen, and New York.

Skybound | January 11 - February 1, 2025 Skybound Mac-J Turla January 11 - February 1, 2025 1/6 View Catalogue Video Press Release In his fifth solo exhibition, Skybound, Mac-J Turla invites us into a world where daydreaming reigns supreme—a realm of unfettered imagination and creative exploration. Through a series of evocative works, Turla celebrates the gentle, unstructured moments that allow the mind to wander and ideas to take flight, particularly within the context of the artistic process. In an era dominated by the relentless churn of social media, where every spare moment is filled with digital noise, Skybound serves as a reminder of the value of stillness and introspection. Some of the most profound ideas, after all, emerge not in the frenzy of activity but in the quiet intervals of boredom—when we sit back, relax, and let our thoughts meander freely. At the heart of the exhibition is a recurring protagonist—a stand-in for the artist himself. This central figure, with wide, expressive eyes and occasionally equipped with robotic arms, is depicted as wholly engrossed in an interior world. Hovering above him are whimsical visual elements that dramatize the act of imagination: a flight of birds, a galloping horse as one would see on a racetrack, and a toy airplane in mid-soar. These motifs transform the mundane into the fantastical, echoing the unbridled creativity of childhood. Turla’s works harken back to simpler days, when children would doodle on the back pages of their notebooks, their minds unencumbered by the weight of adult responsibilities. The same spirit of uninhibited creativity pervades these paintings. Notably, each work bears a title corresponding to a specific hour—the moment when the artist’s visions took shape—turning the series into a visual diary. These temporal anchors lend an intimate, almost confessional quality to the collection, grounding its flights of fancy in real-world moments of inspiration. Without a rigid plan or predetermined outcome, Turla allows his images to emerge organically, embodying the metaphor of flight both literally and figuratively. The resulting works exude a sense of spontaneity and lightness, capturing the essence of childlike wonder. With its themes of freedom, aspiration, and serenity, Skybound is an ode to the creative spirit—a testament to the power of unstructured moments to awaken our deepest imaginings. -Carlomar Arcangel Daoana

Word on the Street | May 4 - June 1, 2024 Word on the Street Julius Redillas May 4 - June 1, 2024 1/4 View Catalogue Video Press Release Word on the street whispers of the return of Julius Redillas’ sinewy enigmatic figures. In this latest collection, Redillas draws inspiration from the myriad details of everyday life that surround him. Within the sanctuary of his own home, the figures of the Virgin Mary and Sto. Niño stand as silent witnesses. These divine icons seamlessly transition from his personal space to his canvases, held by his iconic crimson character in stark white attire. Beyond the confines of his home, the streets also offer a rich array of life, where the playful antics of wandering animals became a source of fascination. And so, portraits depicting his signature figures tenderly holding a cat or a dog also find their place within this series. At the heart of Redillas’ compositions are not his subjects, but the act of holding. This gesture serves as a focal point for his exploration of possession and connection. Whether it’s the reverent cradling of cherished religious icons or the affectionate hold of beloved pets, Redillas captures the essence of each touch – with touch as an extension of the personality holding it. What does it mean to hold onto something? Is it merely a physical act, or does it signify a deeper connection to our surroundings and to each other? Are our possessions merely material belongings, or do they also carry with them the weight of our memories, emotions, and experiences? In Word on the Street, Redillas invites us to ponder the significance of our interactions with the world, urging us to seek meaning in the seemingly ordinary. This exploration perhaps lies the true story of the whispers heard on the street. Lk Rigor

Plastics and Colors of Youth | April 1 - 29, 2023 Plastics and Colors of Youth Fernando Sena April 1 - 29, 2023 1/4 View Catalogue Video Press Release Fernando Sena, considered as one of the masters of the still life genre, revisits his toy series in his solo showcase, Plastic and Colors of Youth, for Art Cube. Showing no loss of figurative skill and vitality, Sena once again depicts the joyous tumble of toys and their parts, all commingling together in their varied shapes and hues, so much so that no single piece asserts dominance. The viewer, regardless of where they look at the canvas, is treated to an eye-catching pop of color and shine, with the toys’ harmonious configurations being at once accidental (their arrangement in a box) and intentional (as the artist has devoted his attention and chosen to paint them). When Sena began this series two decades ago, it was meant to celebrate his bond with his then-young sons who showed encouraging inclination toward art. The artist raised them single-handedly and made ways to compensate for the loss of their mother, such as playing with them over the toys that Sena so meticulously painted. With his sons all grown up, these recent works take on a nostalgic veneer and a bittersweet tone as they mark the memories of togetherness that the father and the sons shared—a testament to the enduring nature of parental love. To a great extent, these works also mark a time in which children were encouraged to use mechanical toys to help them develop essential cognitive, motor, and social skills. Toys were not just objects of play and entertainment, but powerful tools in shaping psychological growth and development. With more and more children playing with tablets and phones instead of handheld objects, Sena’s paintings serve as a reminder that tangible, physical toys are still a necessity in childhood, as they encourage the use of hands and the imagination, establishing a child’s direct relationship with the world around them, which no digital plaything can replace. What is compelling in this suite of works is how Sena renders these toys descriptively, as if the viewer could easily pluck a piece out from any of the clusters. Just like in the early versions of this series, the artist has employed the top-view perspective to render the richness and diversity of the toys, without neglecting the layering and the sense of depth that makes these paintings so credible. As models of the still life, they testify to the genre’s infinite possibilities, of how ordinary objects achieve an extraordinary quality in the hands of a master such as Sena. Plastic and Colors of Youth is a beautiful and heartfelt exhibition that celebrates the enduring nature of parental love and affirms the centrality of Fernando Sena’s place in Philippine visual arts. Carlomar Arcangel Daoana Fernando Sena is known as the Father of the Philippine Art Workshop, sharing his knowledge and talent with the less fortunate, he was born in Tondo Manila to a family of humble means. At a young age, he became aware of the social conditions in his community. Sena started his career by attending a free summer art workshop conducted by the Children’s Museum and Library Inc. he was given a painting scholarship to the School of Music and Fine Arts of the University of the East where he obtained a Bachelor of Fine Arts, Major in Painting in 1971. After finishing college, Sena started volunteering and conducting free workshops for indigents, orphans, deaf and mute, cancer patients, and children with disorders. He is adept in using different mediums and can shift from one style to another, from being a cubist-pointillist to a realist-impressionist. Sena is recognized for his exquisite still lifes such as his trademark pandesal and toys but also tackles a whole range of subjects, such as landscapes, portraits, religious icons, and everyday people.

Sampalataya | May 10 -31, 2025 Sampalataya Max Balatbat May 10 -31, 2025 DSC08623.JPG 1/7 View Catalogue Video Press Release In Sampalataya, Max Balatbat returns to the neighborhood that made him—a place in Caloocan where desperation was part of the daily rhythm, and yet, somehow, prayer still found its way through. This solo exhibition is an act of reckoning: with faith, with survival, with the complicated dignity of lives lived in the margins. As a child, Balatbat’s family erected a small chapel in the middle of the chaos. It was neither grand nor sanctified by institution, but it became a site of quiet congregation. Neighbors arrived not in their Sunday best, but as they were—prostitutes, gun-for-hires, laborers, mothers. Each offered a prayer: for safety, for success, for something to hold onto. It didn’t matter who they were or what they did; what mattered was the gesture—the reach toward something beyond. This early memory anchors Balatbat’s art. His works are laden with the textures of real life, not sanitized or symbolic, but stubbornly material. He uses burlap, pillow stuffing, railroad spikes, salvaged wood, used canvas, rope, tiles, cement—elements that carry their own stories of use, wear, and origin. These objects are not backdrops but active agents in his visual language, part of the patchwork that holds memory and meaning together. For Balatbat, a work must have layers and scars. It must carry weight. Recently, he immersed himself in a cenaculo—a traditional Passion play performed during Holy Week, where participants reenact the sufferings of Christ, sometimes even taking on self-flagellation. Balatbat chose not to remain a distant observer. Instead, he participated, feeling each lash, each moment of shared ritual pain. In doing so, he came to understand the deeply human impulse behind the act: to suffer as currency, to offer pain as prayer. But Sampalataya doesn’t accept faith at face value. The exhibition questions the performance of belief—what is ritual, and what is real? What is truly asked in the silence of a bowed head? Are we bargaining, pretending, hoping? Balatbat suggests that faith is not given—it is forged. Scraped together from the rubble of our brokenness, our guilt, our longing. In one corner of the show, a mechanized work swings a whip rhythmically between two suspended bags—one filled with money, the other with rice. The movement is absurd, violent, and deliberate. It gestures to the everyday pendulum of devotion and desperation: the flagellant’s pain might be for daily bread, or it might be for a payday. In either case, need drives the ritual. Here, Balatbat is at his most vulnerable. Textile patches evoke bandages, as if each artwork were an attempt to dress a wound that still bleeds. The act of making becomes a way of healing, or at least acknowledging the injury. In his raw use of materials—acrylic skin, epoxy, enamel, coffee-stained canvas—there is no pretense of purity. The works breathe with complexity, like the people who once gathered in the chapel of his childhood: imperfect, fervent, and utterly human. -Carlomar Arcangel Daoana

Sangtigwa | November 4 -25, 2023 Sangtigwa Kevin Vila & Denmark Dela Cruz November 4 -25, 2023 1/7 View Catalogue Video Press Release SANTIGWA Knowing nothing can be better than thinking you know it all, a concept that some find liberating. There's a certain purity in ignorance, reminiscent of the bliss we experienced as children when we simply understood things through the lens of our senses. However, this kind of ignorance can also become a tool for corruption in the hands of those with selfish motives. People and society can mold children to serve their interests, creating the illusion of purity while ultimately tearing apart their dreams and aspirations. Childhood is the most crucial phase in a human's life. It's where we create an imaginative world, where pain and emotions are translated into monsters and characters we can play with. It should be a carefree time when the world is a vast playground, fostering curiosity and helping us learn about the true nature of life and love. As children, we don't judge what we see; we simply play with it. Sadly, this isn't always the case when we open our eyes. Children are often the most vulnerable in our fast-paced world, preyed upon by the harsh realities that surround them. We neglect the value and beauty of a child's innocence and forget that they are the future. While we often claim to think about the world's future and its greatness, we frequently overlook this key aspect. In the pursuit of creating a better world, we must ask ourselves: Who will heal these broken children? Where can they turn when the world seems to be closing in on them? Is it still safe for young people to nurture their curiosity? We already know the answers to these clichéd questions; we just need to refocus on what truly matters. As we move forward, we should pave the way for them to comprehend life through a positive lens. We should be attuned to their laughter, their tears, and their fears. We should all believe in a better place, especially those of us who were once like them—damaged, broken, and traumatized by the realities of life. We should be their healers, ready to offer guidance when the path ahead seems bewildering to them. Frenk Sison Denmark Dela Cruz & Kevin Vila Denmark Dela Cruz (b. 1990) is a contemporary artist in the Philippines who brilliantly encapsulates the hard-hitting reality of living in a dark society. Through his works, he courageously critiques the power and poverty inflicted on communities, as well as children who are often the unwitting victims of corruption, violence, and an unfair justice system. Dela Cruz’s works depict the powerlessness, faithlessness, and hopelessness of those caught amid revolution, war, terrorism, or an unfair justice system. His art conveys the pain and destruction marginalized populations face, illustrating the violence, inequality, and trauma of the political climate while acknowledging the strength of the human spirit despite suffering and despair. At the root of Dela Cruz's oeuvre is a passionate desire to uplift the plight of vulnerable children victimized by human and governmental selfishness. He challenges the status quo through his art and offers a nuanced perspective on the world that is both socially conscious and thought-provoking. His works ultimately implore us to open our hearts and minds, and combat structural and repressive systems to ensure a better future for all. Kevin Vila's works delve into metaphysics, ontology, and mythical fantasy, explaining the features of reality that exist beyond the physical world and our immediate senses. He also explores Philippine mythological stories and creatures, drawing parallels between their distinctive behaviors and human behavior, social problems, and present-day issues.

Dystopian Lullabies | September 6 - 27, 2025 Dystopian Lullabies Paul Eric Roca September 6 - 27, 2025 Paul Eric Roca-DSC04134.webp 1/5 View Catalogue Video Press Release DYSTOPIAN LULLABIES: Mga Guhit mula sa Librong Marka Demonyo Tila ugoy ng duyan ang sunod-sunod na paglilinya ng mga dibuho ni Paul Eric Roca sa Dystopian Lullabies. Ngunit imbis na ihatid tayo sa pananaginip ay dinadala tayo nito sa huling hantungan. Ang kanyang mga ilustrasyon at pintang inilapat gamit ang payak na itim at puti, ay lulan ng mga dalamhati – lingid sa paningin ang bigat ng mga tunay nitong kulay. Habang ang mga linya’t hagod ay mistulang paalala ng paulit-ulit na pighati. Pagkitil ang buod sa tanghalan ng mga biswal na ideya ni Roca, ngunit tulad ng maraming balintuna, kumikibot ang buhay ng budhi sa bawat piraso ng obra. Bawat pagmamarka ay ukit sa damdamin, at bawat imahen ay pagpapakita sa itsura ng halang na sikmura at pag-iral nang balisa. Matingkad ang mga ito sa paggamit ni Roca ng mga bahagi ng katawan, tulad ng mata, ngipin, puso, bungo at iba pa, na kanyang isinaliw sa talim ng tinik, pangil, kutsilyo, at karit. Sa pagitan ng lambot at talas, naroon ang kirot ng laman, sa wangis ng mga bukol at uka-ukang balat na bakas ng panloob na pagkabulok. Sa ganitong lagay, ang mga likha ni Roca ay hindi lamang pagninilay sa landas ng kamatayan, kundi isang hele ng panambitan hinggil sa kung paanong unti-unting nilalapa ng sarili nitong aswang ang ating lipunan. Ang mga ilustrasyong hango sa aklat na Marka Demonyo, gayundin sa kaniyang mga pintang Of Red Tape and Duct Tape at Litany of Lamentations, ay pagluhod at pagdarasal ng mga obra ni Roca hindi lamang sa Diyos ng Kamatayan, kundi maging sa Diyos ng mga Suwail at Ligaw. Ang mga ito ay panalanging hindi humihingi ng kaligtasan kundi pagsusumamo sa kaharian ng ating kolektibong bangungot. -Janine Go Dimaranan Paul Eric Roca Paul Eric Roca is a Filipino illustrator and painter with training in both Architecture (Enverga University) and Fine Arts (University of the Philippines). He has illustrated children’s books and educational materials, and worked as an editorial illustrator for The Straits Times for nearly eight years before joining Manila Bulletin. Roca’s solo exhibits—such as Interlude of Indifference and Creatures of Apathy—feature surreal, socially conscious works that reflect his concerns about apathy, identity, and political decay. e has been a semifinalist in the Metrobank Art and Design Excellence Competition and the PLD-DPC 23rd Visual Arts Competition, with works featured in the Ateneo Art Gallery and Art Cube Gallery. His recent exhibition Dystopian Lullabies (Art Cube, 2025) presented black-and-white illustrations and paintings filled with symbolic imagery—eyes, teeth, skulls, and thorn-like objects—reflecting decay, inner turmoil, and collective nightmares. Blending human anatomy with metaphoric textures, Roca’s practice blurs the personal and the political, expressing grief, protest, and reflection on the state of humanity.

Childish | July 1-29, 2023 Childish Macj Turla July 1-29, 2023 1/9 View Catalogue Video Press Release The Foulies Of You In Childish, Macj Turla's third solo exhibition, the artist delves into the complex themes of escapism, the fear of growing up, and the weight of taking responsibility. Through a collection of freshly produced wide-eyed paintings framed by wood textures or hand-wrought, black-painted epoxy clay, Turla invites us to explore the nuances of human emotions and behavior, shedding light on the struggles and conflicts that lie beneath the surface of our daily lives and familiar characters in our surroundings that dwell on denial. Hide and Giggle presents a figure seeking cover behind a gray wall, addressing the childlike desire to escape from reality and evade the challenges that come with maturity. The piece serves as a reminder of the allure of a carefree existence, while his hidden playmates, chasers, and competitors personify the responsibilities and expectations that we often try to hide from. Inhaling Humor smokes out the allure of chemical substances as a means of altering one's perception of reality, prompting us to reflect on the human tendency to seek temporary relief from the pressures of adulthood, unmindful of the costs and long-term consequences. In this piece, the artist seemingly urges us to confront our vulnerabilities and question the paths we choose to escape from the struggles of growing up. Emotion Tag-a-Tag, a series of four pieces, prompts us to use the appropriate facial expression for each emotion as Turla delves into the concept of creating the various masks we wear to navigate social interactions and personal struggles. Each painting portrays what appears to be a drawing on paper, replete with the illusion of folds and crinkles, that people put in front of their actual faces to project an image, gain acceptance, or even survive in a world that demands a game face. In a way, the artist challenges us to question the authenticity of our emotions and invites us to embrace vulnerability and honesty. Keeping in mind Turla’s creative journey and past experiences in his relatively young life, we have seen his previous solo exhibitions reflect specific memories of tragedy and consequence; Childish veers away from the burnt parts, evocative line-heavy multilayered images, and chaotic compositions of his past works. His imagery now may appear simpler and less cluttered, but it does not lighten meaning-making in any way. It is an open invitation to look beyond the surface level and ponder what each piece actually says—what appears playful may not be all it seems, as we often get distracted by our judgment of what adults are supposed to be. More sinister forces might be at hand, or perhaps it is the dogged resistance to actively seeking solutions instead of immersing one in self-sabotaging abysmal situations; indeed, the vices quirkily portrayed in his works only result in foul confrontations with life’s follies, and we can always do better. Imponderous, mischievous, and lingering on naivete, the copious use of concrete colors reminds one of the dappled streets of youth, scratched with stone to draw whatever a child sees. Only now have clouds turned into smoke and trees into beer bottles. Innocent eyes droop heavy with worry. Everyone eventually grows old and gray, so maybe a little childishness should be OK? Kaye O'Yek

Flimsy Cobweb Sheets | September 2 - 30, 2023 Flimsy Cobweb Sheets Carzen Esprela & Lui Gonzales September 2 - 30, 2023 1/8 View Catalogue Video Press Release Flimsy Cobweb Sheets An individual's character is highly dictated by their manner of storing and retrieving acquired thoughts, perhaps; a dilemma in terms of retaining or omitting an idea. Say, a place dependent on identity may evolve to a level of taste. Cleaning an old room involves careful analysis of which to keep or discard. Old receipts, old coins, old keys, photographs, letters, etc., are presented all at once. In the choosing, the room is prepped for receiving. Some are displayed, some kept in cabinets or drawers. This is the case in Gonzales' and Esprela's works; carefully selecting which parts of their work they choose to keep. Referring to old photographs, Esprela carefully paints scenes of travels documented through time; copying the background, keeping the memory of that particular photographed place. He then presents biomorphic silhouettes of people seemingly decaying from its solid forms; indicating the impermanence of an individual in relation to a place. Gonzales' layered drawings perform a visual bombardment of memories presented on a plane. Thoughts on how sunlight affects a surface, giving warmth and growth, creating a symbiotic relationship; the accumulated experiences shared with random animals were given great importance by Gonzales in choosing her images. Her drawings depict the relationship of an individual to nature. Layer after layer of drawn figures as she tears the sheets exposing multiple memories as a single event. In "Flimsy Cobweb Sheets", both artists present their compulsions to peel and peek through. Retention of details is integral to their process creating a visual representation of a tasteful accumulation and decay. Raymond Carlos Carzen Esprela & Lui Gonzales Carzen A. Esprela (born 1994) studied visual arts at the Philippine High School for the Arts and earned a Bachelor of Fine Arts degree in Painting from the University of the Philippines in Diliman in 2016. His thesis work 'Bag in a Boat' has been featured in various public spaces and art exhibitions such as at Art in the Park, UP Fine Arts grounds, Tin-aw Art Gallery, and the UP Vargas Museum. Esprerela explores memories of significant people and places in his art. His debut solo exhibition, "Hinumdom," meaning 'to look back' in Visayan, took place at Pinto Art Museum. Artist and musician Lui Gonzales, graduated as an Art Scholar majoring in Visual Arts from the Philippine High School for the Arts and obtained her Bachelor's Degree in Fine Arts at the University of the Philippines, Diliman. In 2010, she was chosen as one of the representatives of the Philippines for the ASEAN Youth Camp for Visual Arts held in Hanoi, Vietnam, and in 2020, she was a finalist for the Ateneo Art Gallery's Marciano Galang Acquisition prize. She considers her contemplative drawings and layered works to be a visual representation of memory. Since 2006, she has participated in exhibitions in the Philippines and abroad. Now residing in Quezon City as a full-time artist, she continues to create pieces with images ranging from portraits, still lives, and various scenes.

ARISGADO | March 04 - March 25, 2023 ARISGADO Arel Zambarrano March 04 - March 25, 2023 1/6 View Catalogue Video Press Release Caution: Hard Hat Area For the silent desperate many--who struggle to make both ends meet--one barely lives to fight another day. Arisgado, the sixth solo exhibition by Arel Zambarrano, essays the painstaking realities that he and his laborers face day-to-day challenges. Based in Iloilo, this artist-architect continues his narrative from his previous shows, armed with undulated persistence, this time Zambarrano unravels deeper discontents as he collectively identifies with the suffering predicament of many—the dog-tired working class including the downtrodden and abused multitude--to still plod the neck deep flood for them to keep their head above water. Ever since Zambarrano started his art practice he has veered on the edge of the dark and macabre imagery. He has always had a fascination for sharp edges placed in in-your-face aesthetic parlance. At one time he featured in Artificial Fear approximately 3400 knives onboard. With needles as constant from his previous shows, in this offing he portrays arrows as tools for waging conflicted instincts, as well as, sustainability of survival life (as in hunting and gathering), the arrow is also the symbol of peace, alliance and other philosophical ideas. Same as the exhibit title, Arisgado is the main piece in nine portraits of Zambarrano’s loyal laborers. As his men were painted as background, he uses pull-push rule’s blade overlaid with acrylic glass. What is astounding in this mixed media bravura is how Zambarrano alternately weaves tape measure with their canvas of mug shot faces of his long time construction workers. Sealing each with rivets to fasten each interchange. Dragonflies have also been a recurring presence in a Zambarrano paintings. In this series the backbone of the dragonfly as we are reminded that we are transformed with every adversity we confront with. Dragonflies also symbolized adaptability and self-realization. Zambarrano’s use of materiality merges his creativity in visuality and his being verse in constructing as an an architect. It is while busy on his building projects that he sought to incorporate his materials blending his two vocations. Although Zambarrano sees himself as an artist before his being a licensed professional builder. Breath While in the Dark frames cemented floor mat with acrylic paint and plastic screen overlaid on etched acrylic glass. As trapos also mean corrupt government official Zambarrano is conscious of being decent in dealing with these people and not fall into their callous prey. Zambarrano sets himself as long as you are honest from the start no one can bribe you in peril. Kalmado is a site specific installation reprising Zambarrano’s previous Ilomoca show. Casting himself for six hours, he uses cement to finish his actual being like it was a self-portrait. Like a paddling duck, Kalmado remains inverted being to show one to be calm while you wade the counter-controlling waves. Done in many versions all gearing up to Grit that is etched on canvas which is pierced by an arrow in Temporary Crucial Drawbacks, an oil on canvas with broken wooden arrows and copper nails attached to acrylic glass. Four large paintings charge one with fervor to continue the fight and grab life’s bull by its horn. Against the background of needles and dragonflies Zambarrano always rise to the occasion. Like battle cries he instills in us the courage of a warrior that while being wounded by life’s sham, drudgery, and broken dreams, it still is a beautiful world. Rigid Still is Kalmado in two dimensions. The feet are a reflection of pain as most of the time we walk, run, or remain to standstill. Notice the foundation in pylon as base not to be swayed by untoward threats. In the Threshold of Winning Battle, Zambarrano has been known to be most effective when faced with adversities as reflected by the exploded door hardware and pots. Consider the door knobs and hinges as one has to get out of our comfort zones to find our passion in life. In Multiple Chances the cat is the symbol of nine lives and bearer of good fortune. Zambarrano’s pieces is rich in semiotics. It is in brokenness that he strives to come back stronger in existence. Undaunted inculcates opportunities are as rare as the Panay-Negros Bleeding-Heart. Here he painterly sprouts mushrooms as unexpected blessings as Zambarrano’s hopeful hands are depicted in details. Arisgado is arresting in its visual messaging as Zambarrano’s titles are encouraging phrases to keep you in the fight and not lose in depression. Art is a risk for Zambarrano who never surrendered in life, much more be dissuaded in creating in poverty. Bring it on, like an agile boxer, he takes the blows but he just keeps on punching. - Jay Bautista Arel Zambarrano Arel Zambarrano is a Filipino contemporary artist hailing from Banate, Iloilo Province. He is a licensed architect who graduated from Iloilo Science and Technology University (ISAT-U). His works often convey social and political issues. Zambarrano has his own studio called “The Red Table” in Iloilo which serves as a haven for ideas and aspirations for himself, his fellow artists, and his mentees. His works have been recognized by various art institutions such as the Philippine Art Awards and Metrobank Art and Design Excellence. "Arisgado (Risk taker)", the sixth solo exhibition by Arel Zambarrano, essays the painstaking realities that he and his laborers face in day-to-day challenges. Zambarrano continues his narrative from his previous shows, armed with undulated persistence, this time he unravels more profound discontents as he collectively identifies with the suffering predicament of many—the dog-tired working class including the downtrodden and abused multitude--to still plod the neck-deep flood for them to keep their head above water.