PPP: Palapit Palapit Papangit

There is liberation in ugliness. On some occasions, whether visually, conceptually, and even politically—we are compelled to confront the ‘ugly truth’ before we make our own assertions and continue any course of action. And on most occasions, this liberating power of ugliness only presents itself through time, and where most of the time, the process requires the act of looking carefully.

Norman Crisologo, in curating the group exhibition, PPP (Palapit Palapit Papangit), acknowledges this complex relationship between art and ugliness. Here, he invokes a little-known street adage uttered in Filipino slang that shows the complexities involved in perception—whether through time or distance—in finding out that there is ugliness in beauty, and how conversely, it might also state the opposite: where anytime an object or art work present themselves as ugly, beauty emanates after paying close attention.

Featuring 10 Filipino artists, the show is a homegrown meditation on the label ‘ugly art.’ Taking its cue from the emergence of ‘bad paintings’ and outsider art in the early 60’s, ugly art has followed the same path towards aesthetic provocation. It undermines our expectations of what is visually pleasing on the one hand, while making a case that experiencing the unsightly can also be sensuously pleasant on the other.

Depicting figures that are ghoulish, beastly, impoverished, obscurely distorted, deformed, or disturbingly unholy, the old Filipino iconography is no stranger to what is considered as unsightly. Our own culture is constituted with images of the hideous and the repulsive that have long haunted our imagination. And in most instances, these concepts are both feared and revered; but were never dismissed as poor constructions or incompetent preoccupations. In certain contexts, conjuring the ugly requires more mastery and depth of creative expression because in nature, ugliness does not exist.

Ugliness, as related to unpleasant experiences, has also been a dominant theme for Filipinos for too long. It speaks of an underlying dissatisfaction against the ills, evils, dangers, and insecurities of living in a less than ideal environment. The artists here, it could be argued, have also activated their imaginations in order to reflect these conditions—in putting society under a microscope, its deformities are bound to become apparent and will inevitably come into view. Like in the works of David Ryan Viray, Kaloy Sanchez, and Rap Carloto, we can sense the struggles against instability; while looking at the works of Paolo Icasas, Dennis Occena, Soika, and Jigger Cruz showing disfigurements and distortions, we begin to see the value of the incredible skill required to achieve imperfections; and in reflecting the mythical and spiritual oddities that continue to haunt us that are evident in Ian Fabro, Jayvee Necessario, and Rando Onia’s works, we arrive at our own form of unconventional aesthetic that is inherently tied to local symbols.

In looking closely at art, we are confronted with both possibilities: to appreciate its latent beauty; or to celebrate inherent abnormalities. Either way, we become engaged to consider opposing forces of nature—form and formlessness. We become entangled within two perceived hierarchies—the admired and the marginalized. In presenting the ugly, the marginalized regain their voice. And this is how the significance of ‘ugly art’ is demonstrated: it makes us suspend judgment; it discourages us from becoming too dismissive. At the very least, it asks us for a diagnosis, not for an immediate cure. It invites us to take the time to look, to examine carefully, and to come nearer, closer, so that it may reveal for us that the real tragedy of ugliness occurs when we refuse to pay attention.

Text by CLJ