Hip-hop pintado

Tonight, which is the night before this column comes out, our Cebuano writers group Bathalad gathers in Handuraw Café in Gorordo Avenue for a pre-Valentine poetry reading. It’s an almost-predictable activity for any literary group given that in no other time of the year would poetry suddenly become popular than during  love month.

But what makes this year’s basa-balak (poetry reading) unique is that it attempts to bring together two main modes of precolonial Cebuano art: poetry and tattoo. Yes, our forebears never had the Western notion of cutting art down into smaller pieces of  painting, music, poetry, architecture, etc.

Instead, we preferred to mix them into one combined art. And so poetry, for example, is sung along with some instruments or performed in what could be a mix of dance, theater, or sacred ritual.

The performers themselves were living works of art with their bodies decorated with tattoos, jewelry and colorful costumes. The site of the performance is usually one considered  sacred ground, perhaps next to a shrine or makeshift altar decorated with totems, carved figures and other objects that could pass for today’s outdoor art installations.

But in this spectacle of beauty and magic, poetry is the common underlying element. Meaning is always veiled in layers, and a native affinity for rhythm finds an equivalent in the repetition of colors and patterns in carving, weave work, body art and in music.

Such is the art of the ancient Cebuano pintado. It is a mixed concoction that gives us an intoxicating delight, very much like the kinutil or the native chocolate drink spiked with tuba or coconut wine and raw egg.

The term kinutil best describes the eclecticism of contemporary Cebuano art. In fact, my CDN opinion page “classmate” Raymund Fernandez, who also writes about the local art scene, uses the term as the name of his column.

Kinutil was also the theme of this year’s Bathalad Convention held last January 28. The group recognizes that the current trend of “cross-pollination” of the arts is not a new phenomenon in Cebu. As already mentioned, it has always been our idea of art.

Poetry, being the most metaphysical of the arts, permeates all others as a source of wit and meaning. And today, it continues to underlie much of contemporary popular music, film and the visual arts.

One of the speakers in this year’s Bathalad convention is  Cebuano artist Kris Villarino (a.k.a. Pain-In-The-Neck), who does graphic design, films and rap music. After a long hibernation as a musician, he recently returned to the local hip-hop scene with a new single entitled “DMD” (“Di Ma ‘Da Uy”). Unlike his former songs, “DMD” is written in Cebuano and expresses bisdak wit in typical hiphop “swag.”

Kris spoke of rap as one of the contemporary expressions of poetry among young people. But the old bards of Bathalad (the senyors as they are fondly called by younger members) who listened to a young man rapping before them could easily see the rebirth of the balitaw, the original duel of verse (rap battles as we call it now) spontaneously expressed in music.

So in tonight’s poetry reading entitled “Imong Atik, Akong Patik,” we tried to bring together the popularity of “pickup lines” among hip-hop youth, henna tattoo, rap music and Cebuano verse. We try to reenact a pintado ritual in a modern art café.

We hope that, as in the post-convention party, the Cebuano artist/musician/TV celebrity Budoy (himself a reincarnation of a pintado making hybrid art) would come tonight to give samples of his version of kinutil, a rich and tasty drink whose ingredients he would rather keep a secret.

And speaking of Cebuano art, the Cinema One Originals Cebu Film Festival continues today until Thursday next week at  SM City Cinema 3. The festival includes “Ang Damgo ni Eleuteria,” “Di Ingon Nato,” “Confessional” and “My Paranormal Romance.” These are award-winning movies made by young Cebuano filmmakers.

Those who are not Cebuanos will agree that these are all very good films. The awards given to them in film festivals in Manila and abroad attest to that. It will thus be a big loss both to the filmmakers and to the Cebuano public if we fail to see these movies right here at home.