Encore

The saxophone player says, “We are an experimental performance art group. We are lovers of the accident.” Butch Carunggay cannot help himself. He has to ask in that automatic, wry, signature Butch style, “What accident?”

“The accident of life. The accident of one note playing after another. The accident of broken love or broken glass. The accident of Butch Carunggay”: the saxophone player replies although he might have been taken aback by the quick question coming out of nowhere.

Butch is a celebrated jewelry designer. The saxophone player is a sculptor. They know each other from way back. Butch was one of the most celebrated graduates of the University of the Philippines Cebu High School. The accidental musician was already an art teacher at that same school at that time. Butch would be the very first person to ever commission him to do permanent public art. “Tubod Sandayong” is made from copper and wood. It sits proudly even now at Butch’s Bellavista Hotel in Mactan.

But now they are together once again at filmmaker Joanna Arong’s “Au Revoir” fete for a French couple. The party is at her residence at Maria Luisa. She has invited the performance art group “XO?” to perform to her party of mostly French expats.

“XO?” does accidental performance. They cannot know exactly how their shows transpire. They never rehearse. For this night’s performance they have only a slightest chimera of a structure of what to do. The saxophone player plays a few bars from the song “If you go away” based on the French song, “No me quitte pas” composed by Jacques Brel in 1959, later translated into English lyrics by Rod Mackuen. It became a hit with versions by Frank Sinatra. But it has become a largely forgotten song now. This, especially judging by the saxophone player’s version. He takes it only a few bars before he drifts into another music entirely. It is something less than even an impression.

But he has prepared the audience for Roylu’s performance. He reads in French “No me quitte pas,” after each verse tears rectangles from the paper on which the lyrics are written. He takes the rectangles and tapes these on his shoulders. By the time he finishes reading Mackuen’s translation he has made for himself, wings. He ends by flying all over the room to saxophone music. Budoy joins in playing a beat on an ice pail.

Enter Russ Ligtas in a new character “OK” he introduces just this night. Russ does movement performance, which he mixes with vocals and elements of costume, makeup and devises. Facial expressions are elemental. They are his method of expression. Russ takes on his audience first just with silent movement. Then he begins to sing acapella. Only at the end will the rest of the music return.

By that time, they must have taken the audience in. Or make them sufficiently confused or suspend disbelief just so they become sympathetic enough with the performance to enjoy it, the sounds, the movement, space, the room, the night itself. It is always psychological tension they are after. They must have to make the moment pregnant with sense and pure emotion. Will they succeed?

After everything, the saxophone player might have been wondering in his mind what Butch Carunggay was thinking. Butch might be one of his dearest friends. But Butch is entirely like “XO?” itself. He is a child of the moment, a child of the accident. He will express what he thinks. And he entertains absolutely no obligation at all to fully explain why. But the rest of the room applauds, congratulating the group for a fine performance. The party prepares to return to popular disco party music when suddenly Butch goes: “Encore!”

The rest of the room joins in. “Encore!” The saxophone player wonders if this is one of those nights when he absolutely hates Butch Carunggay. They never have had to do an encore, ever. And because they do automatic performance they must have to think this one out within seconds. Russ lights a cigarette and begins playing with a beer can. The saxophone joins in. Roylu fades in softly on the classical guitar. And then Budoy starts beating on the aluminum wine pail. The performance is tentative at first as it always is. The music is always slow to form. The environment itself forms the performance. But if and when the music takes palpable shape, it can be quite magical. There is no stage to separate audience and performer. Everyone is taken into it.

The singer is singing something over and over again. The theme of the night had been “Au revoir, No mi quitte pas.” He sings now: “It takes just one breath to say hello again.” Yes, he does love Butch after all. Was it purely by accident he has given “XO?” the singular honor of an encore? He might not ever know.