natutulog ang mahimbing, ngunit hindi nananaginip
Series of works (solo show)
Embroidery, crochet, and collage on eco-dyed fabrics, soft sculptures, and single channel video
2020
ânatutulog nang mahimbing, ngunit hindi nananaginipâ means âsleeping deeply, but not dreamingâ.
From a letter I sent via email to the showâs curator, Marika Constantino, I wrote:
âThe title ânatutulog nang mahimbing, ngunit hindi nananaginipâ, which is a show about dreams sound very ironic though, doesnât it? But I guess the dream that I was referring to here is not âdreamâ in the literal sense but of a life being dreamt for the future. Like everybody else suffering through this pandemic, I have no image of the future that I can clearly see, and giving in to the appeals of consuming for a fantasy is hardly a worthwhile future to want to dream of. To me, this period seems like a very prolonged state of immobility. Unconscious and senseless, we lull ourselves to a woken slumber, sleepwalking and in autopilot, unable to dream of a future beyond of what consumerism feeds us.â
In the letter, I also talked to Marika about âConsumption Dreamsâ by Marlon Xavier, and its premise about the connection of consumerism and dreaming, where he wrote how the very idea of dreams can refer to either:Â
(1)Â âan autonomous, mysterious, irrational experience that happens to us and can be fantastic but also terrible.â
(2)Â âa dream as personal desire, image of the future, main goal, the âgood lifeâ, etc.â
Her response to my letter, which also stood as the showâs curatorial brief, contained the following:
âInterestingly, how consumerism and commodification as an actuality is embroidered into the fabrics of our lives is a distinctive collage altogether. This manifests into your works both literally and figuratively. In this capitalist driven world, where every second is devoted to productivity and profit, its materiality gets harder and harder to ignore. The âworkâ and the âselfâ and its immediate gratification are not the only things that matter. Collective care and meaning must be at the forefront, most especially when distortions brought about by the neoliberal economy has been magnified.
In effect, I liken the idea of slumber to the state of irrationality, complacency, and satisfaction that the general 91% of the population consciously or unconsciously finds itself in. Ironic as it may be, given the blatant levels of incursion, poverty and assaults, apparently the populace is not âsleep deprived.â We must overcome this inertia; where the vision of proper education, equality, and justice for all comes into play. Hopefully, sooner rather than later, we can collectively wake up to begin imagining again and work towards its attainment.
I will leave you with this quote that I stumbled upon in the early days of isolation. As it sums up my feelings in reaction to the broad uncertainty and overall torpor it also is a rejoinder for your metaphorical call to action regarding our countryâs listless forty winks:
âWhen we emerge out of our isolation, the world will be smaller and our horizons will be local. The priority will be solidarity and communion with the unemployed; everything else is unimportant but everything else will be secondary. May we emerge hungry for argument, conversation and debate. May our writing and art as more questions and wonât pretend to have all the answers.â â Christos Tsiolkas
May we all begin to dream again.â
This solo exhibition was shown in West Gallery (Manila, Philippines).