dolphy, kabaklaan, award!

caught a part of cecile guidote alvarez’s guesting on dzmm’s dos por dos.  she was explaining to anthony taberna and gerry baja that, contrary to popular notion, hindi niya inagawan si dolphy ng national artist award back in 2009 when gloria macapagal-arroyo named her for the award along with francisco manosa, jose “pitoy” moreno, and carlo caparas.  say niya, the ncca and ccp had long wanted to give dolphy the award — she didn’t say exactly when — but that there were objections from nick tiongson about dolphy’s body of work and portrayal of kabaklaan (or something like that, correct me if i heard wrong).  complicated na usapin, which should could have been addressed by that book on dolphy.  hmm.  lito zulueta is right, a new category created especially for dolphy, like Broadcast Arts, sounds good.  walang kabaklaan sa Buhay Artista at John en Marsha.

Why Dolphy can’t be National Artist any time soon
By Lito B. Zulueta

His vital signs may have improved, but comedian Dolphy remains at the intensive care unit of the Makati Medical Center, so calls for him to be proclaimed National Artist, while they may have abated in the meantime, are expected to continue. But the drawn-out selection process and other inconvenient realities may conspire to rule out any immediate proclamation.

President Aquino is under pressure to proclaim Dolphy and include him in the Order of National Artists. But he himself has pointed out he’s deferring to the selection process as formulated by the Cultural Center of the Philippines (CCP) and National Commission for Culture and the Arts (NCCA), whose boards, sitting jointly, elect the awardees.

While nominations may be submitted by government and nongovernment cultural organizations, educational institutions and private foundations, nominees are subjected to an intensive screening process, in which the accomplishments and merits of the nominees are evaluated by the National Artist Award Secretariat and its Special Research Group happen before a two-part deliberation procedure.

The deliberation is undertaken by two different panels that compose the National Artist Council of Experts. The panels are composed of esteemed scholars, academicians, researchers, art critics and other knowledgeable individuals from the seven classical arts, as well as living National Artists.

(Disclosure: This writer was a member of the second panel during the National Artist selection process in 2003 and 2006.)

After the second deliberation, the experts finalize a short list of nominees and present it to the joint NCCA and CCP boards, which deliberate and make a vote. The final list is then submitted to the president of the Philippines for confirmation, proclamation and conferment.

“In this light, it can be readily seen that the selection of the National Artists is a long process which sometimes takes about two years,” the NCCA said in a statement. “That Mang Dolphy has not been awarded the recognition yet does not reflect on the government or the arts sector wanting or not wanting to do so.”

“For the moment, we understand that Mang Dolphy has been nominated and is now undergoing the process of evaluation—along with other noteworthy artists,” the NCCA added. “In the meantime, we continue to pray for his recovery and return to full health.”

Presidential prerogative

It is possible of course for the President to set aside the selection process, the National Artist arguably being a presidential award. The CCP and NCCA after all are under the Office of the President.

Although there’s another school of thought that maintains the award is not a presidential award, that it’s an award by the Republic and that the head of state is there merely to proclaim the names who have passed muster in the joint boards of the CCP and NCCA, history shows that a sitting president can add his own preference to the final list. President Fidel Ramos was the first to do this when he added a separate category in the awards and made historian Carlos Quirino, his Pangasinan province mate, National Artist for “Historical Literature” in 1997.

President Joseph Estrada followed Ramos’ example when he proclaimed the late Ernani Cuenco, who did the musical scores for his movies, National Artist for Music in 1999.

President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo followed suit when she made Alejandro Roces, her father’s education secretary, National Artist for Literature in 2003, and Mindanao artist Abdulmari Imao National Artist for the Visual Arts in 2006.

Perhaps because her term was the longest after Marcos’ and she had been able to tweak the CCP-NCCA list and add her own preferences twice, Arroyo might have been emboldened to drastically revise the list in 2009, a year before she stepped down from power, adding four names which didn’t pass the selection process—architect Francisco Mañosa, fashion designer José Moreno, theater artist Cecile Guidote-Alvarez and filmmaker and komiks novelist Carlo Caparas.

Unthinkable

Around that time, there had evolved the belief that while a sitting president could add to the final list, s/he could not subtract from it. But Arroyo did the unthinkable. She not only broke ground by adding not one or two to the list, but four; she also dropped from the list Ramon Santos, who had been elected by the joint CCP-NCCA board as National Artist for Music along with the Tagalog novelist Lazaro Francisco, Federico Aguilar Alcuaz, and filmmaker Manuel Conde. Her act was contested and a court injunction was issued against her proclamation order. The awarding was not consummated. The case is pending in the Supreme Court.

Many are hoping that the high court would firmly settle the matter and clarify the nature of the National Artist Award. But the practice of presidential prerogative appears historically determined.

Established in 1972 by President Ferdinand Marcos through Proclamation No. 1001, the award was created in recognition of the achievements of Filipino artists who embody “the nation’s highest ideals in humanism and aesthetic expression.”

Back then, it was the CCP that solely screened the nominees although strictly speaking there was no nomination process (at least not the process that is implemented today by the National Artist Committee).

It was common belief that Imelda Marcos, who had styled herself patroness of the arts, freely decided whom to give the award. If there was really a selection process, the CCP functioned as an advisory board to Madame Marcos. Moreover, unlike these days when the awards are given every three years, there was no deadline back then. The award could be vested on anyone at any time, depending on the urgency of the moment, as when it was given to Vicente Manansala posthumously in 1982, and Carlos P. Romulo in his sickbed in 1984, a year before he died.

The history of the awards should indicate that President Aquino could give the award to Dolphy anytime he might wish to do so.

Moreover, Arroyo had established through an administration order the Malacañang Honors Committee on top of the National Artist Awards Committee and the joint CCP-NCCA board. As far as anyone knows, the order has not been rescinded. In fact, President Aquino gave Dolphy in 2010 the Grand Collar of the Order of the Golden Heart, one of the awards under the Honors Committee. But since Aquino has vowed to be the opposite of his predecessor, he’s expected to leave the matter to the National Artist Awards Committee and the CCP and NCCA.

Qualified?

But even if the selection process were to be fast-tracked, would Dolphy qualify as National Artist for Cinema?

Dolphy’s case has been compared with action star Fernando Poe Jr., who was declared National Artist for Cinema in 2006, after his death a year before. But Poe was elected to the Order of National Artists not only on the basis of his acting credentials, but also on the movies he had produced and directed. He was made a National Artist because he was both “Fernando Poe Jr.” the actor and “Ronwaldo Reyes” the producer-director.

A look at the roster of National Artists for Cinema would reveal that nearly all of the honorees are directors: Lamberto Avellana, Gerardo de Leon, Lino Brocka, Ishmael Bernal and Eddie Romero.

De Leon started as an actor but shifted to directing to become indisputably the only Filipino cinematic master.

Manuel Conde, who was elected by the CCP-NCCA boards in 2009 but whose proclamation remains pending in the Supreme Court as mentioned above, was an actor-director. Like Dolphy, Conde was a comedian who starred in several blockbusters, which he himself directed. But of course, he was best known for playing the title role, producing and directing “Genghis Khan,” the first Filipino movie to be shown in a major international film festival (in Venice, the world’s oldest movie festival, in 1952).

Therefore, an objective and fair evaluation of Dolphy’s merits as National Artist for Cinema will have to take into consideration whether they equal those earlier named to the award, all of whom were directors.

But even if Dolphy’s merits were to be based solely on his credentials as a comedian-actor, the rub here is that many of the films upon which his reputation as “King of Comedy” is founded are lost or in such an extreme state of disrepair as to be useless for viewing and appreciation.

Many of these movies he had produced himself under his production company, RVQ Productions. But unlike Fernando Poe Jr., who safely stored and preserved the movies he had produced and directed, Dolphy hasn’t really taken good care of his RVQ movies. Prints of his gender-bending movies, which were ahead of their time and should be considered classics now, such as “Facifica Falayfay” and “Fefita Fofonggay,” are in a poor state. As far as we know, none from the younger generations have seen these movies.

But considering that broadcast stations have libraries and there may still be prints of Dolphy’s work on television, especially on “Buhay Artista” and “John en Marsha,” then perhaps he may better qualify as National Artist for the Broadcast Arts. No one has yet been proclaimed for the category, and naming Dolphy for the award could provide it a good start.

Budget

Perhaps the most important consideration on Dolphy’s chances to become National Artist has largely remained unmentioned. It has to do with money.

Conferring the award does not only require strict screening of the nominees; it also presupposes that an audit has been made of the budget for the National Artist Award and a certification has been made that government can afford to pay the emoluments and benefits that go with the honor.

A living National Artist receives a state stipend of some P20,000 a month and is entitled to hospital and medical benefits amounting to P1 million a year. S/he can also apply for a grant of up to P1 million a year from the NCCA, which administers the National Endowment for Culture and the Arts (Nefca).

Since many of the living National Artists are advanced in age and they avail themselves especially of the health benefits that come with the award, the budget through the years has become tighter. This explains why there appears to have evolved a trend of conferring the award posthumously.

Some of the biggest names in the pantheon in fact received the award only after their deaths: Carlos “Botong” Francisco and Amado V. Hernandez in 1973; Gerry de Leon in 1982; and Lino Brocka and Rolando S. Tinio in 1997. This is so because it’s cheaper to give the award posthumously. The family of an artist proclaimed National Artist after his death would receive a one-shot payment of P100,000, nothing less and definitely nothing more.

In 2009, for example, while Arroyo concurred with the joint CCP-NCCA board in proclaiming as National Artists Conde, Francisco and Aguilar Alcuaz, all of whom were dead, she dropped Ramon Santos. It is presumed she needed to delete the composer and musicologist from the list since she had to add her own personal preferences—Alvarez, Caparas, Mañosa and Moreno—who are alive and whose stipends and benefits as National Artists would necessarily deplete further the finances of the awards.

Therefore, the overriding question is: Can government really afford to make Dolphy National Artist?

The first ever National Artist was painter Fernando Amorsolo and he was given the award four days after his death in 1972. It was as if Ferdinand and Imelda Marcos had rushed and created the award just to honor him belatedly. Such doleful, dolorous start set the trend, more or less, for the history of the National Artist Awards.

A memorable decade: Writers before the war

A book burning incident occurred sometime in the early 40s when younger writers led by Alejandro Abadilla and Teodoro Agoncillo cast into a bonfire the works of the so-called traditional and balagtasan writers. This was unfortunately reminiscent of the book burnings in the fascist world where books of Communist or Jewish writers like Thomas Mann were consigned to the flames. 

By Elmer Ordonez

The thirties may well be my favorite decade. Born at the start of the Depression, I began to be fully aware of the world around me when the family moved to a house in Paco in 1933 prior to my schooling in 1935. I remember my mother telling me in a calesa in Bustillos about the presence of “Sakdalistas” in the Sampaloc plaza. In 1936 I began to follow on radio and the Tribune the outbreak of the “guerra civil” in Spain. There were also heard marching songs of the Falangistas. At San Marcelino Church I saw young mestizos in uniform in formation and giving the fascist salute. I would read later in Renato Constantino’s histories about the parades of “Franquistas” in Manila joined in by students and faculty of elite Catholic schools. By late 30s I was primed for the outbreak of the war in Europe and local preparations for the Pacific war like the building of air raid shelters (models shown in UP Padre Faura, and the practice blackouts (mentioned in NVM Gonzalez’s The Winds of April).

Maybe: Incidentally, The Satire of Fedrico Mangahas, ed. by Ruby Kelly Mangahas and James Allen’s The Radical Left on the Eve of the War rekindled my long-standing interest about a historic decade.

Another book Komunista (Ateneo University Press, 2011) by Jim Richardson has provided more context to the period – particularly the involvement of writers and intellectuals in what was essentially a working class enterprise.

Writers who figured in the first half of the 30s were founders and early members of the UP Writers Club (1927)—Fred Mangahas, Jose Garcia Villa, Gabriel Tuason whom I have always believed tried to humor their foreign advisers with the avowed purpose of the club which is “to elevate the English language to the highest pedestal.” Shortly after, Fred Mangahas began his satirical columns in the Tribune. Salvador P. Lopez, Jose Lansang, and Arturo B. Rotor followed the steps of Mangahas and Villa in establishing themselves in the literary community. Villa left in 1929 for New Mexico to make a name as a poet in the United States but at the same time influenced Filipino writers by sending his annual “honor” and “dishonor” rolls of stories and poems to the Manila press.

In 1936 James Allen arrived in Manila he made a note about the young writers whom he found problematical. He cited one who wrote a story satirizing the intellectuals who visited Central Luzon for a solidarity meeting with the workers and peasants. Interestingly Manuel Arguilla’s “The Socialists” has always been considered part of the proletarian writing during the Commonwealth. Allen’s reading of the story may well be different. Arguilla went on to write more stories “Epilogue to Revolt” and “Caps and Lower Case” for a volume titled How My Brother Leon Brought Home a Wife and other stories which won the first prize (in short fiction) in the Commonwealth Literary Contest.

The “young” writers at the second half of the decade would constitute the Veronicans led by Francisco Arcellana some of whom pursued the “art for art’s sake” doctrine of Villa as against the “literature with social content” of the Philippine Writers League whose prime movers were Villa’s colleagues Mangahas, Lopez, Lansang and Rotor.

A parallel but not similar conflict was seen in the Tagalog writers community. A book burning incident occurred sometime in the early 40s when younger writers led by Alejandro Abadilla and Teodoro Agoncillo cast into a bonfire the works of the so-called traditional and balagtasan writers. This was unfortunately reminiscent of the book burnings in the fascist world where books of Communist or Jewish writers like Thomas Mann were consigned to the flames.

The debate over textual and contextual criticism, balagtasismo and modernism, formalism and historical criticism has persisted to this day in the academe. The more popular but banal issue is called “literature (art) and propaganda.”

On campus, the young writers that would have interested James Allen were Renato Constantino, Angel Baking, Sammy Rodriguez, Juan Quesada and other young intellectuals, mostly from UP, calling themselves the Phylons. Alfredo V. Lagmay and Felixberto Sta. Maria later moved on to become scholars in academe. Allen left the country in 1938 but I wonder if he had occasion to meet them, perhaps in the Ivory Tower café in Malate, run by leftist writer Ma. Gracia de Concepcion, or at the People’s Book Center in Escolta.

As a grade school student I could only feel the vibrations of intellectual ferment and social unrest (especially after reading “We and They” by Hernando Ocampo in my Grade VI class) which would only make full sense after the war—doing research on the Filipino short story in English from 1935 to 1955 and meeting the writers themselves.

A literary clash between Fred Mangahas and a Spanish- tradition bound Nick Joaquin occurred in the pages of Philippine Review (during the Japanese Occupation) with the article of Mangahas critiquing the essay of Joaquin waxing lyrical about the La Naval celebration in chilly October. Otherwise the class struggles and aesthetic concerns of the writers during the 30s were shrouded by what Jamias called “total intellectual blackout.”

eaordonez2000@yahoo.com

dolphy, media, awards

… the circus that is happening at the Makati Medical Center is not only intrusive but also hints of disrespect. I was at the MMC Friday and Saturday for some medical procedures and I witnessed for myself how media people have camped out in front of the main building 24/7. The media networks have set up satellite units, generators, and multiple camera set-ups. There is no denying that, pretty much like those black birds in Africa, the media people are there in anticipation of bad news. If we truly want Dolphy to survive this latest challenge to his health, perhaps we shouldn’t act like we’re on a deathwatch.

that’s bong austero in “Dolphy, the stereotypical Tatay.”  actually i have nothing against a deathwatch.  when the signs are there, it’s only human to fear the worst, knowing na doon tayo lahat papunta, and medical science can extend life only so much.  but yes, the media can and should keep their distance naman.  konting class naman.  a daily press release should be good enough for the nonce, stop with the vulture-like camp-out, stop harassing eric quizon for medical updates or questions like kumusta si zsazsa, si ganito, si ganoon.  most us have been in a similar situation, we know what it must be like for zsazsa and the sons and daughters, including maricel aka shirley.  the personal details are really none of our business unless or until freely shared by zsazsa and maricel et al, and that won’t be soon.  for now let’s just pray for whatever’s best for dolphy and let’s allow the family what every family, showbiz or not showbiz, deserves — the private space to make the decisions that have to be made, and to deal with the uncertainties and the sadnesses, far away from intrusive cameras and insensitive media who don’t make it easy, rather make it worse, in truth, for a family in crisis.

as for the national artist award, it’s a farce, this clamor for the president to confer it on dolphy ora mismo.  my question is not, bakit ngayon lang ang award (kung i-award man), kungdi bakit ngayon lang ang clamor?  where were all these people and orgs 10 years ago when such an award would truly have mattered to dolphy, and would truly have made a difference.  i’ve said the same of ishmael bernal who was named national artist 5 years after he died.  ten years too late.  why not at the height of his powers, like soon after Himala, by which time he was already recognized as one of the best filipino filmmakers, if not the best, of all time.  in dolphy’s case, ten or so years ago would have been soon after Markova: Comfort Gay, a brave controversial film that wasn’t a box-office hit but which told us in no uncertain terms that there was more to dolphy than the stereotypical this or that.  he was a national treasure by then, and he could have have been more than a comedy king, had we truly appreciated him enough.

so really, this hysterical call for a national artist award, it’s not really as much for dolphy anymore as it is for us who now can’t extoll him enough, trying to make up for our neglect, trying to make ourselves feel better.  sorry, but we don’t deserve it.

Unsettled questions #cj trial

By Ismael G. Khan Jr.

In his keynote speech at the launch of the book “History of the Supreme Court” to mark the Court’s 111th anniversary on June 11, former Chief Justice Reynato Puno decried the “spiritual slump” and apparent disarray in the judiciary in the aftermath of its “collision with the political branches of government,” as well as the widespread confusion following the conviction of now ex-Chief Justice Renato Corona by the Senate impeachment tribunal. But because of Corona’s decision not to appeal his removal, we will never know for sure how a “severely wounded” Court would have dealt with certain questions the answers to which were left hanging in the course of his impeachment trial.

If these issues remain unresolved until the next impeachment case, they would be equally unsettling, especially to the 31 constitutional officials whose fame, fate and fortune could be held hostage to an uncertain and, worse, partisan political environment. Let’s go over the more important unsettled—and unsettling—issues.

1. The most crucial is the Supreme Court’s power of judicial review. Article VIII, Section 1 of the 1987 Constitution states clearly that it is the Court’s duty “to determine whether or not there has been a grave abuse of discretion amounting to lack or excess of jurisdiction on the part of any branch or instrumentality of the government.” Note that the Constitution makes this a “duty” of the Court. Precisely, this is what it did in dismissing the impeachment case filed against then Chief Justice Hilario Davide in 2003. But Senate President Juan Ponce Enrile, as presiding officer of Corona’s impeachment trial, sternly warned the Court not to entertain that notion on the premise that it is only the Senate that has “the sole power and authority to try and decide all cases of impeachment.” Recall that neither the 1935 nor 1973 Constitution mandated that “duty,” which would have made it both easy and expedient for the Court to dismiss any such appeal as a “political question” that fell outside its jurisdiction.

2. What offense, criminal or otherwise, has Corona been convicted of? Note that even as he voted to convict Corona, Enrile strongly insisted that “the Chief Justice does not stand accused of having amassed any ill-gotten wealth before this impeachment court.” He went so far as to state that “the Chief Justice had justifiable and legal grounds to rely on the Supreme Court’s procedural and policy guidelines governing such disclosures as embodied in a resolution promulgated way back in 1989 when the respondent was not yet a member of the Court.” Enrile even conceded that Corona believed in good faith that the timely and periodic filing of his sworn statements of assets, liabilities and net worth complied with the guidelines of the Court, the law, and the Constitution.

However, the fine distinction between Paragraphs 2.2 and 2.4 in the Articles of Impeachment obviously got “lost in translation.” It was not at all appreciated by a majority of the senator-judges—and certainly not by an already cynical and disbelieving nation that was bombarded for five months by a media blitz about Corona’s lack of character and probable culpability. It is important to emphasize that the impeachment court had earlier disallowed the introduction of evidence in support of Par. 2.4 which pertained to ill-gotten wealth. Par. 2.2, on the other hand, accused Corona of failing to file accurate and complete SALNs. And his belated revelations and admissions concerning his substantial dollar and peso bank deposits, as well as his self-serving interpretation of confidentiality laws, were what finally proved fatal to his defense.

3. Corona was convicted on the basis of the second Article of Impeachment for culpable violation of the Constitution and betrayal of the public trust for his failure to file accurate and complete SALNs. Most of the senator-judges considered the enormity of the amounts in pesos and dollars that Corona neglected to disclose as having established a prima facie case of ill-gotten wealth under the Anti-Graft and Corrupt Practices Act (RA 3019) and the Code of Conduct for Government Officials and Employees (RA 6713). Actually, the term used in RA 3019 is “unexplained wealth,” which “refers to assets which a public official has acquired during incumbency, whether in his name or in the name of other persons, consisting of property or money, which are manifestly out of proportion to his salary and to his other lawful income.” On the other hand, the term “ill-gotten wealth” is specifically related to the crime of plunder, a nonbailable offense, under RA 7080. It is important to bear this in mind in the event that criminal charges are filed against Corona, a definite possibility intimated by no less than President Aquino.

4. If “unexplained wealth” can be explained away, as the term suggests, the failure to file a complete and accurate SALN may justify nonprosecution for the offense. This appears to be the reasoning behind the votes to acquit by Senators Joker Arroyo, Miriam Defensor-Santiago and Ferdinand Marcos Jr. In simple terms, Arroyo’s argument was that there was no such crime as failure to file an accurate or complete SALN until the impeachment court made it so for the first time. Santiago, on the other hand, contended that such a crime, even if it did exist previously, was not an impeachable offense since it could not be equated in terms of scope, nature and gravity to “culpable violation of the Constitution, treason, bribery, graft and corruption, other high crimes, or betrayal of the public trust.” Marcos was of the same mind, and argued that Corona “must be presumed to have acted in good faith … and that not all omissions and misdeclarations in the SALN amount to dishonesty.” Arroyo and Santiago are held in high respect for their expertise in the law, and Marcos must have consulted his wife, no mean legal scholar herself. Their reasoning surely deserves a more in-depth examination before the next impeachment case comes along.

In the impeachment trial, legitimate questions were raised in relation to substantive and procedural due process, the quantum of proof required to establish or verify a fact and its admissibility in evidence, the degree of respect due impeachable officials and their right against self-incrimination, the scope and extent of the rules on sub judice and trial by publicity, principles of statutory construction, and reconciliation of seemingly inconsistent laws. These remain unsettled even as they are bunched in the layman’s eyes under the rubric of legalese and technicalities. To ensure that the rule of law and impartial administration of justice are not sacrificed in the future, a focused and sustained effort must be made to resolve these quandaries, particularly where they involve amendatory legislation or policy reformulation.

Ismael G. Khan Jr. was the Supreme Court’s first spokesperson, assistant administrator and chief of its Public Information Office from 1999 to 2007.