Seiri

A new year is approaching, and we shall once again try to redefine who we are, what we desire to be, and alter the location of chess pieces we decided to use and not to use, and the moves we decided not to take... or that we wish to have taken in the last 12 months.

Why do we make these choices even? Do they all add up in the end? Maybe. We will never know for sure.

But 2014 has taught us this: There are constants in each individual’s life, and maybe these will prove to be the ones that will carry us through another year; to not be so afraid [or too eager] of it.

Ishka Mejia

note

contentsTHE CORE

THE CUT

IT COMES IN THREES

ARTForging New PathsNext Year

FILMThe Golden GirlThe Unexplored Frontier of Interstellar

LITERATUREChosen OnesA Petit LitfolioPardon Our French

MUSICCovers: On Choosing Music, AestheticallyAn Elemental TasteMixtape 8: Oh, I Beg You

SARTORIAL MENTION

SA LABAS

BREATHLESS

CONFABULATIONHow Timely

QUEEN OF STREETS

ISSUE 8

Contact Usseirimag@gmail.com

the CORE

Lian Dyogi

Jonathan Baldoza

Julian Occeña

Patricia Padilla

Ishka Mejia

Christine Imperial

Nina Martinez

Jade Katherine Castro

Erika Morales

Kirsten Raposas

A L T E R N A T I V E C U L T U R EY O U R O F F E R O R S O F

features editor

editor-at-large

creative director

managing editor

editor-in-chief

literary editor

art editor

music editor

associate art editor

illustrator

I have found it.What? Eternity.It is the seaMatched with the setting sun.

the CUTW O R D S O F W I S D O M

Arthur Rimbaud

it comes in threesA R T

Vector of Fernando Amorsolo’s The Making of the Philippine FlagFORGING NEW PATHS

FORGING NEW PATHSby Nina Martinez

As frightful as the concept of government-approved art sounds, it’s only fair that such a highly esteemed Commission (no matter how many of its critics will grumble otherwise) grants that same brand of immortality that’s hung prints of Jose T. Joya’s Mother and Child in thousands of homes, or caused H.R. Ocampo’s Genesis to adorn the stage of the CCP, to their female counterparts. That said, this list of suggestions is only a smattering of them gathered, in no particular order:

It’s not revolutionary to say that the government tends to get a lot of things wrong. One of those, unsurprisingly, is art.

The Order of the National Artists, a recognition bestowed by the National Commission for Culture and the Arts, may have brought our attention to a handful of well-loved, deserving Filipino painters like Arturo R. Luz, Ang Kiukok and the forever-famous Amorsolo. But what it has failed to do is nod its grand head with the same reverence at women artists who have toiled the same toils, felt the same feelings, and created masterpieces in their own right.

A quick look at the list of National Artists, specifically the Visual Arts category, makes it very clear: there are exactly zero women mentioned. Painting and sculpture, along with many other professions, in the past may have been viewed as strictly men’s work (the pursuit of beauty and truth through art takes some heavy lifting!). But the twenty-first century mindset surely allows the NCCA to consider that maybe this belief has blinded them in their search for masters.

A quick look at the list of National Artists, specifically the Visual Arts category, makes it very clear: there are exactly zero women mentioned.

A R T

Surely someone once praised as the “female Amorsolo” deserves a spot. Having studied in both University of the Philippines School of Design (now College of Fine Arts) and the Cranbrook Academy in Michigan, she was skilled in Philippine Modernism and Neo-Realism, but made sure to give them her own touch. Her works, many of which now hang in the Yuchengco Museum in Makati, often glorify the working Filipina, showing her busy with everyday tasks like selling eggs or sorting fruits, while giving them idealized features like high cheekbones and full lips, while lovingly blanketed in distinctly Asian color palettes of rich green and red. She stated in her 2005 biography, “I regard [Filipino women] with deep admiration and they continue to inspire me—their movements and gestures, their expressions of happiness and frustration; their diligence and shortcomings; their joy of living.”

Women with Baskets and Mangoes1980Oil on canvas

Anita Magsaysay-Ho (1914-2012)

A R T

While not literally the opposite of the spectrum, Cadapan’s portrayal of the Filipina is vastly different from Magsaysay-Ho’s. Instead of romanticized faces and palettes, Cadapan paints stylized, almost abstracted women – characters who glare openly at the viewer, brimming with energy that they alone control. Aside from this, she painted darker, politically-themed works as well: images criticizing politicians and society, especially in the time of Marcos. Her sculpture People Power is housed in the building of the GSIS (Government Service Insurance System) to this day. Her body of work characterizes her as a passionate nationalist with plenty of faith in the abilities of the Filipina. Cadapan also stands out for mastery of various media: watercolour, oil, sculpture, and paper mache among them.

Woman1999Oil on canvas

Inday Cadapan (1939-2004)

FORGING NEW PATHS

It’s not often that you find a sculptor admired and sought after by both powerful corporations and admiring young individuals. Lluch, a Philosophy graduate from University of Sto. Tomas, has created everything from government-commissioned bronze sculptures of Ninoy, Mabini or Carlos P. Romulo (in UN Avenue, Manila) to deeply personal, almost fragile terracotta self-portraits. She claims herself that she often takes on a “feminine viewpoint” in her work, portraying women’s struggles and fears. On the side, she is also a set designer, filmmaker and actress.

Julie Lluch (1946-)

Cutting Onions Always Makes Me Cry1988

Terracotta and Acrylic

A R T

Arellano’s UP degree in psychology and ADMU MA in clinical psychology help explain her art’s unnerving ability to depict the human body in surreal, often disturbing states: whether as an embodiment of despair, violence, or religious faith. Besides these, she also studied in the Sorbonne in Paris for a year on French language and civilization, before returning to UP to study in the College of Fine Arts. In 1981, her parents, sister and housemaid perished in a fire in her home while she was travelling in Spain. Her grief from this, and her sudden awareness of the fragility of life, is a common theme in her works. Arellano’s sculptures are most often of women portrayed as various characters: as gods, as monsters, as lovers or mothers. Besides being awarded by the CCP for her unique work, her sculpture Tatlong Buddhang Ina is a permanent installation in the Metropolitan Museum of Manila.

Carcass-Cornucopia1987Coldcast Marble

Agnes Arellano (1949-)

FORGING NEW PATHS

Hustling2002

Acrylic on Canvas

France-based Gelvezon-Tequi has travelled a long way from her hometown in Guimbal, Iloilo. She has exhibited not only all over the country but also in Paris, New York, Tokyo, London, Florence, and many more. She started off with two BA’s from the University of the Philippines: one for Fine Arts and the other for English, before studying painting in Itality’s Accademia di Belle Arti di Roma. One can infer about the artist’s situation at the time of each of her paintings – her works in the nineties depicted the political unrest at the time, of a Philippines only just freed from Martial Law and still gasping for air. Rows of barong-clad politicians sitting in front of distorted version of the flag, of mothers mourning their children atop platforms standing several feet above everyone else, of Biblical stories given Filipino characters and settings (such as her Wedding at Cana). Then, when she moved to France to live with her husband, Marc Tequi, her work saw a shift to still life: quiet illustrations of plants and porcelain plates, against clean, bright walls, suggesting that peace has been found in the artist’s situation, and possibly self. Her paintings of Filipinos in this country’s everyday situations, sometimes mundane, sometimes tragic, continue to leave a mark on viewers, and many can be found in the Altro Mondo Gallery in Makati.

Ofelia Gelvezon-Tequi (1944-)

When you don’t know what to say, you can always let them do it for you.

Also, it is a catchy song. It has been on loop for a while now.*

A R T

Next Yearby Erika Morales

A R T

NEXT YEAR

A R T

NEXT YEAR

*Erika Morales, our Associate Art Editor, shall be a thousand feet in the air once this issue is launched. She will soon be based in Seattle, and maybe, she’ll be home for next year.

it comes in threesF I L M

I hope the exit is joyful,and I hope never to return. - Frida Kahlo

IIt was more like an impulse, because each scene sent a shiver.

Here are chosen poignant scenes from the film Frida (2002) directed by Julie Taymor. It is a depiction of what might have been the life of Frida Kahlo (1907-1954), the elusive Mexican artist/creature that has riveted the world, and has, as of yet, a number of today’s youth – even Beyoncé (Have you seen her Halloween 2014 costume?). Kahlo’s surmised fierceness in the film, a quality that is glamorized as a cross between sassy and extreme self-entitlement, reveals how it actually takes guts and a constant inner pang of juvenility to sustain and succumb to achieve one’s own truth and follow it through. The id, if one may use Freud’s term, would have been the salient spirit that drilled this artist through life’s concrete abyss and complexities for 47 years. The scenes jutted out and into the heart, speaking of life’s clichés, and how one may handle them through the development of genuine individual perspective; it is learned, forgiven, and returned to when possible. With this film, the female in the form of Frida; or rather, Frida as a female,

THE GOLDEN GIRLby Ishka Mejia

The Most Poignant Scenes in Frida Kahlo’s 2002 Biopic

stands as the epitome of a woman and the immensity of her wild and intricate capacities. She is both loved and scorned. She loves wholeheartedly and wretchedly. She is brave, she mourns, she lusts, and more importantly, she knows who she is and what she wants aside from just being defined by this nature, which makes her such a feared and revered creature.

A Manic Pixie Dream Girl might have actually existed. Frida Kahlo was the dream girl.

She was golden.

Frida Kahlo gelatin silver print Oct. 16 / 1932by Guillermo Kahlo / Southeby’s

F I L M

The metal rod entered the right side of the body and came out the vagina.

Diego is working almost constantly, so I have to find ways to entertain myself.

It’s time to go home. I’m tired of all these people here and I am tired of who you are around them.

Frida, why do you and Diego have separate houses? Because we are two different people, but our love makes us into one.

Long live the shadows of my voices crying far away...

If you lie down with dogs, you should expect fleas.

Dear Diego, how are you? Why didn’t you tell me that Paris was such a nightmare?

I’m a beast. I’m an idiot. But it meant nothing, Frida.

The Unexplored Frontier of Interstellar

by Lian Kyla Dyogi

It makes you wonder, how can we be so naïve and arrogant to think that we are worth saving? What is our place in the universe? In this big bad cosmos, the Earth and us humans seem very small indeed. Carl Sagan put it best in the Pale Blue Dot:

“Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the universe are challenged by this point of pale light. Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark. In our obscurity, in all this vastness, there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves.”

It is often our own insecurities, desires, and self-interests that get in the way of our goals. One of the main conflicts in the movie is whether or not the scientists will sacrifice their own personal interests (saving the ones they love) and their own lives in order to rebuild the human race. In the movie, Dr. Brand claims that humans will not willingly sacrifice their own lives, and families, for the good of the entire human race; the family unit becomes more important than the ideology in the end. If you endanger another person’s life in order to save your own and reach this ideal, is that great evil? Isn’t this “selfishness” just survival of the fittest? This is how we’ve evolved and survived as a species anyways, by eliminating the weak. I know sacrificing human lives in order to save the human race doesn’t sit well with me because it kills a part of what makes us human, and that is our capacity for love and sympathy.

W“We’re not meant to save the world, we’re meant to leave it. “ – Dr. Brand, Insterstellar

Despite or perhaps because of its mixed reviews, Interstellar remains to be one of the most tiring and interesting films released this year. What the trailers promised us was a film of epic and mind-bending proportions (since this is the same director who gave us Memento, The Prestige, and Inception) about a world on the cusp of extinction and the humans who try to save it. With its all-star Oscar winning and nominated cast, I was expecting a lot. What I didn’t expect to watch was a film that explored two frontiers: space and the human psyche.

Interstellar is a tiring watch, firstly because of the amount of information it hands its audience. A lot of the dialogue is spent explaining various concepts. Nolan and his team consulted with Kip Thorne, a theoretical physicist, to make sure they got their facts right. The movie presents and uses a number of theoretical concepts and theories to make its story such as wormholes, black holes, relativity, and dimensions. In the movie, Cooper (McConaughey) and his team use a wormhole to get from one part of the galaxy to another part where possible planets to substitute Earth were found. We see the scientists battle against extreme and harsh environments (one “tsunami” planet and another a fortress of solitude on steroids) as they try to complete their mission. They also have to race against time. In one of the planets, every hour they spent there is seven years on Earth. If you don’t want to see the movie for the storyline, you should at least see it for its visuals. Nolan makes you see that the universe is a strange, wonderful, and most importantly vast place.

F I L M

Forget space, try to make sense of the human mind and you’ll probably get lost in all its vastness as well.

You think it’s all about physics? It’s not.

“Love is the one thing we’re capable of perceiving that transcends time and space,” says Brand (Hathaway). Humans have trusted love for decades, often times using this feeling to influence our decisions. The film makes it out to be a powerful and mystical force (as cheesy as that may sound) that science has yet to understand. Love drives Cooper (Matthew McConaughey’s character) to go on the mission in the first place as he is trying to find another home planet in order to save his family. In a way, his character is also “selfish” if we’re looking at it from the perspective of someone who would rather rebuild the human race than save the ones already existing. Cooper is driven by love and his quest is made nobler because it is driven by such a “pure” emotion, but then again isn’t it more noble to sacrifice love, and yourself, for the ideal? But isn’t it just arrogance to think our ideologies even matter? It is our conflict with our desire to love, to protect the ones we love, and to go after some higher ideal that make the human psyche so interesting and complicated. Nolan presents a variety of characters that struggle with the age- old debate of the good of the many vs. the good of the few. Forget space, try to make sense of the human mind and you’ll probably get lost in all its vastness as well.

At the end of all these questions and wanderings, can we arrive at any conclusion? Spoiler ahead: Interstellar ends with a “happy ending”, where, because of Cooper’s willingness to sacrifice himself (despite the consequences) the human race is saved and so is his family. It is also because he trusted his daughter, Murphy, to solve the equation that the human race was saved. End of spoiler. On the outside it may seem that this is Cooper’s greatest achievement: that he helped save the world. However, the statement that the

film makes in the end is that it is only through love that we can ever hope to achieve our ideologies. It is only through the recognition that, after all, we are only human and the best thing we know how to do is to love, we are able to succeed. Maybe it is our capacity to love, which is also vast, that gives us a place in this universe:

Carl Sagan’s The Pale Blue Dot (Cosmos):

“That’s here, that’s home, that’s us and on it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of. Every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines; every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopefuly child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every superstar, every supreme leader, every saint and sinner in the history of our species—lived there, on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam. The earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena.

Think of the rivers of blood spilled by all those generals and emperors so that in glory and triumph they could become the momentary masters of a fraction of a dot. Think of the endless cruelties visited by the inhabitants of one corner of this pixel on the scarcely distinguishable inhabitants of some other corner; how frequent their misunderstandings, how eager they are to kill one another, how fervent their hatreds. Our posturings, our imagined self-importnace, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the universe are challenged by this point of pale light.

Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark. In our obscurity, in all this vastness, there is not hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves. The earth is the only world known so far to harbor life there’s nowhere else at least in the near future to which our species could migrate. Visit, yes. Settle, not yet. Like it or not, for the moment, the Earth is where we make our stand. It has been said that astronomy is a humbling and character building experience. There is perhaps no better demonstration of the folly of human conceits than this distant image. To me, it underscores our responsibility to deal more kindly with one another and to persevere and cherish the pale blue dot. The only home we’ve ever known.

From top: AN ARTIST OF THE FLOATING WORLD by Kazuo IshiguroNOT THAT KIND OF GIRL by Lena DunhamTHE DISTANCE TO ANDROMEDA and OTHER STORIES by Gregorio Brillantes

it comes in threesL I T E R A T U R E

Books to usher in the new yearcurated by Ishka Mejia

Chosen Ones

curated by Ishka Mejiaa petit litfolio

L I T E R A T U R E

EIGHTH

by Jonathan Baldoza

Twenty

Then:a noisy street, the upper-east side of the village,various colored gates, parked cars,the big garage, plants on little pots,the open door, curtains covering the windows,the wooden table and its wooden chairs, plates, cups, spoons and forks,the smell of garlic, tocino and coffee,sounds of distant roosters, the morning — dark as night, bells ringing from a nearby cathedral,the honk of the bus, boys in khaki shorts, jugs, bags and envelopes,the songs of Odette Quesada and Joey Albert,the traffic in the wide, busy road,a statue of Jesus in sight, signs of the cross, sleeping faces, the bus moving slowly.

Now:a moving bus, its wheels dusty and ancient,towards an unknown territory, a land of buried objects:prewar photos of Intramuros, little bottles of Coke, dirty vinyl records of Dizzy Gillespie,the symphonies of Schubert, missing pages of worn-out books, the lost films of Luis Nepomuceno, Amorsolo’s unfinished sketches, a ball signed by Jaworski — all hidden from the sun’s gaze,waiting for my trowels and spades,safely placed inside a toolboxthat knocks and makes noise,as the bus moves on.

by Jonathan Baldoza

L I T E R A T U R E

Mea Culpa

She’s thinking I’m the one.

In my mind it is a flurry.

I tell myself, eyeballs strained in focus on the blank platform, stalled and yielding

The Lord, fate strikes once again

Almighty stirrer of destinies and pathsand all the feelings betwixt such elusive metaphors of life

My ears attempt caving, shutting the doorwas the most natural response for the regret climbing up my throat

yet

my mouth is tasteless and not bitteronly foremen of tears - that do not fall

by Tiny Chung by Jonathan Baldoza

A PETIT LITFOLIO

Sodden

the solemn rainan excuse for the anticipatedcelestial sloth

tethered by silenceas the rain pouredtrysts were quashed

in cold slumberfrom the deep sea of thoughtsthe rain spirit rose

the day after, the sun resurrectedthe sweet but powerless rain met Death

life returned to its quotidian mirthat first enthusiasticand later lifeless

the house remained soakedwith sweet silence and cold breezespreading sloth

by Jonathan Baldoza

L I T E R A T U R E

Thought #191114

Already forgotten, my thoughts have fluttered away. I keep flogging myself in thought.

“I should be writing this down.”

On the fog of the car window. The tissue in my pocket. The three differently-sized notebooks I remind myself when I pack my things to write down these thoughts that I am losing… just now. I’ll remember them. I can retrieve them.

But what we speak of is a human moment wherein such things may never be repeated in the exact same way, in the precise turn of the earth with the same meteorological conditions, or state of mind and emotion. This will be forever lost. I will regret this.

But I am driving, but I am still looking at that wonderful scene with trees and birds flying oh so high, but I am tired and I shall note this down in the morning. I will regret this and all will be lost.

It’s been lost at the outset.

by Ishka Mejia

A PETIT LITFOLIO

N Where does the mind go? Where does it wander when there is so much bliss? So much happiness?

I believe it falls no where. When bliss occurs, there is no where to be, no wrinklesno pouts, not on the face caused by the brain but in the heart, rushing through every vein, capillary and artery no time, no cause for thinking about the senses and whatthey feel

for happiness is flowingthe mind need not recognize itname it, tell the whole world about it

a smile may be too trivial to expresstrue bliss experienced solely by the internal by the sense of that countdown in seconds of

a kiss, sleep, and death approaching

they say ignorance it isand such is true

to not know, to halt the mindfrom loitering in the dead end of theaccidental notice of happiness is the natural process

thus the unnameable,unattainable goal, as they say it is

this bliss

may have already occurredfor the mind does not, cannot tell

we have mistakenfor it is not the mind,but blissthat findsus creeps into our lives, without telling the mind

only in shivers, hops, gestures of the hands and the feet, a yelp, a scream,a drawing of breatha tear, a chuckle, a wink, a lip bite, a smize,a closing of the eyes, a clenched fist thrown up in the air

to the skyyet never, ever where the mind is,where it will go

it finds us

ever in the Mind

GASCONADE

POIGNANT

DULCET

CATHARSIS

L I T E R A T U R E

Favorite words of the team you should use more oftencurated by Ishka Mejia

Pardon Our French

noun.bravado, boasting

adj. pervasive

affecting the feelings

adj. pleasant to hear

purgationnoun.releasing strong emotion through art

sweet to taste

THE SEIRI REVIEW

FLIMFLAM

EERIE

INCHOATE

QUINTESSENTIAL

FRACTURE

deceptive nonsensenoun.

adj.scary & mysteriours

adj. imperfectly formed budding

adj. Most Essential

to break a broken (bone)noun/verb

it comes in threesM U S I C

Don’t judge a book by its cover—they all say, but of course we still can’t help it. Picking out our next venture is sometimes all about aesthetics. What we read, what we eat, and even what we listen to depends on the appearance of what hides the contents. Sometimes we are left aghast when we find that the inside doesn’t give justice to what is outside; but other times we’re rewarded with new discoveries, however they may turn up to be, that measure up to its album art’s greatness.

Take this with a grain of salt, though—what is perceived as aesthetically pleasing isn’t the same for everyone, after all.

_____________________

CoversBeauty is in the eye of the music lover, sometimescurated by Jade Katherine Emily Castro

D

(1)

(2) (3)

(5)

(4)

(6) (7)

M U S I C

(8) (9)

(1) Feadz – Instant Alpha

Anyone would be envious over this collection of boarding passes and flight tickets. With the stubs spelling out the artist’s name, ‘Feadz’, it’s a simple idea pulled off well enough that moms on Pinterest could be inspired to make their own collage.

(2) Rustie – Green Language

There’s an inherent beauty and grace in flamingoes—and Rustie makes full use of that in the cover of his second studio album. From just the cover, one would feel relaxed; but listening to the album is an entirely (and surprisingly) different experience.

(3) Sharon Van Etten – Are We There

A picture is worth a thousand words; and some pictures can be so intimate despite almost showing nothing. In Sharon Van Etten’s Are We There, the cover represents the sound of the album quite well and takes us “there” before we even begin listening.

(4) Aphex Twin – Syro

The perennial question of “what are we even paying for?” in music is answered well on the cover of Aphex Twin’s album Syro. Reading through the list gives us a glimpse on how much process actually goes behind the production of an album—and a newfound appreciation to those in the industry.

(5) BP Valenzuela – BE/EP

Maybe it’s the cereal and milk—or maybe it’s the contrast of warm and cool in one square frame. BP Valenzuela’s music sounds like the cover looks; comforting.

(10)

(6) clipping. – CLPPNG

Experimental hip hop trio clipping. goes a bit meta in this album cover, delivering a message about their breakthrough by showing a broken chain-link fence. Illustrator Tim Lahan, who has a collection of freehand chain-link fence drawings, designed this cover.

(7) Similar Objects – Fragments of a Great Confessional

The cover looks like it could be a portion of an abstract impressionist painting. And when examining art, one could get emotional—which is already a great introductory feeling for what’s in the album itself.

(8) Pharmakon – Bestial Burden

Off the bat, Pharmakon’s Bestial Burden already speaks of a morbid affair. Taking inspiration from her near-death experience and the long healing process that followed, Pharmakon’s rather grotesque sounding (and looking) album shows us how vulnerable and frail one really is inside.

(9) FKA Twigs – LP1

FKA Twigs has transformed herself into a fragile doll for the cover of LP1, using her face to its cherubic potential in order to create an innocent image for herself. However, looks can be deceiving as her music is darker and edgier than the façade she’s put up.

(10) tide/edit – Foreign Languages

There’s just something about the still scene of ocean waves that can simultaneously relax and captivate anyone looking. Again, a picture is worth a thousand words—and this cover speaks volumes for itself and the music hiding behind it.

M U S I C

AN ELEMENTAL TASTEby Jade Katherine Emily Castro

Beatri–– Beatrees Lorenzo

FFor five years, 7101 Music Nation has been organizing a yearly singer-songwriting camp called The Elements Music Camp in which a select few aspiring musicians come together for five days to share their music and learn not only from one another, but also from prolific musicians and renowned producers and music directors in the local industry such as Joey Ayala, Raimund Marasigan, and Gerard Salonga. This year, Seiri got in touch with Beatrice Lorenzo, who goes by Beatrees, one of the campers of the fifth Elements Music Camp.

Seiri: Tell us a bit about yourself and your music.

Beatrees: Though I always struggle with describing my own music, I’d like to believe that it has healing capacities; music is and always will be the best medicine for the listeners and

but if I had to make a wild guess, I’d say maybe “soulful with an inkling of blues”

the musician himself. I am a person who is very much driven by her own emotions—that might tell you something about my music. Feelings are universal to everyone and apart from being remarkably relatable there is just such a great number of ways to express them, so my inspiration stems from that. I’d say my music is still very much evolving—I know I’m not the only one though, as I’ve witnessed in the camp. I am constantly experimenting, and I haven’t established my own identity with respect to styles and genre; but if I had to make a wild guess, I’d say maybe “soulful with an inkling of blues”?

S: How did you feel when you found out you were going to be part of Elements?

”

A peek through the Elements Camp via the talented Beatrice Lorenzo

M U S I C

”B: Blessed—crazy blessed. I felt nothing but gratefulness and readiness to learn and meet people. An opportunity like this isn’t something to take for granted. I felt like it was divine intervention—a real calling. It hit me in the middle of camp how things could have brought me in another direction; this brought [to] my eyes a comfortable stream of tears.

S: The indie scene is pretty tight-knit here in the Philippines—especially in the metro. Did you see any familiar faces? Or did you meet someone you’ve wanted to meet for a while now?

B: I must admit I haven’t stepped a foot into the indie scene before Elements and am only familiar with a few names. Of course apart from the amazing team of mentors, I was happy to meet campers whose songs I’ve encountered in the past—my mother is a fan of camper Marion Aunor’s songwriting and I made sure that when I’d learnt the face to her name, I would let her know how the impact of her work has reached

many souls; even penetrating the walls of my own home. Another camper I was familiar with, because of his unique energy in performing, was Benny Giron. I had seen him perhaps a year ago practicing inside a ukulele shop and, without ever learning his name, was able to recognize maybe halfway into the camp that he was that same guy just by the way he dances with his ukulele and his rainbow-striped uke-strap.

S: So what exactly did you do there?

B: The camp was designed in such a way that there was no opportunity to become bored. From the company alone—I couldn’t help but tell myself how I can’t imagine a better combination of human beings to bring together on a beach to collaborate. Of course we had our lectures and modules, providing the campers a handful of knowledge about the music industry. We were also exposed to music theory. Through games and fun ice breaker

M U S I Cactivities were very much enlightened day after day about what we need to do to properly utilize our gifts. Performances and open jam nights were scheduled every evening—and apart from that, every break was an opportunity to enjoy the company of our mentors and fellow campers. One thing worth mentioning too—breakfast, lunch and dinner buffets; chicken inasal, sanrival and lechon!

S: What one experience from the camp will stay with you for the rest of your life?

B: Having the mentors personally tell you to keep up what you’re doing. To have them assure you that you are on the right path. Also seeing how human connection could come so naturally among people with shared passions. If I had to be concrete and apart from the expected, I’d say dancing and connecting with Joey Ayala—he is such a wise soul with a young and childlike spirit and anyone who is lucky can learn a thing or two from him.

S: If you get to choose three fellow campers to be stuck on an island for a year—who would you collaborate with to make the best music while on that island?

B: Gabe Dandan because of his guitar prowess and his appreciation for blues. Jaren Ladia because of his amazing singing voice. Jessa Lee because she is the most wonderful ball of good vibes and fun.

S: What did you learn from the camp which has challenged your own perspective of music/how you make your music? Specifically, what changed you after the camp?

B: I’ve always believed performance is key, and after the camp, all the more. It makes a big difference when you step on a stage and you can fool the audience into thinking you believe in what you’re bringing. But what was most new to me was seeing the honor people give to the intellectual act of composing a song or coming up with a lyric. I’ll admit I am more of a singer than I am a songwriter—and I am fortunate that I have still been given the chance to attend the camp despite that. So most definitely, after the camp, I’d been very inspired to create more original music. The feeling of performing an

original as opposed to a cover; the whole intimacy of it all excites me.

S: After the camp, do you still keep in contact with your fellow campers? Who inspired you the most during the camp?

B: Yes! We make it a point to support one another at gigs and performances! And apart from that, the internet allows us to keep in touch even with the campers from Visayas and Mindanao. Thea Pitogo was the most exceptional artist for me. I was fortunate to spend some time talking to her. As humble as she is, her words stuck with me—“find your roots.” She emphasized this among other wise words she shared with me. She explained that’s how you’ll market yourself best because it should be as simple as being yourself.

AN ELEMENTAL TASTE

What was most new to me was seeing the honor people give to the intellectual act of composing a song

”

You can follow Beatrees here:

https://www.facebook.com/beatreeslorenzo

https://soundcloud.com/beatreeslorenzo

CULLED OUTFrolic to your own beat

PPeople hold so much prejudice against those who almost always, out of impulse, dance to a beloved song in public. It must be learned that the art of dance, of prance, of fist-pumping, of hip-swaying, of shoulder-swinging, of frolicking... to a manmade creation of beats, rhythyms, melodies, and lyrics, where ever, whenever is beautiful. So suck it up, bitches.

Frolic to your own beat.

www.8tracks.com/seirimag/ohibegyou

curated by Jade Katherine Emily Castro & Ishka Mejia

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with Miguel Almendrasfeaturing pieces by Chief Clothing

TOP: PLEASE WOULD BE NICE

Breathlesswith Isa Abrera

CONFABULAtiOnD I S C U S S I O N

How Timelyby Ishka Mejia

My grandmother tells me that old people don’t need so much sleep. 1 hour feels like 8. She wakes at 3 after turning the lights out at 11. To think she already takes sleeping pills. What does she think about in the darkest hours when she cannot rise until the socially-acceptable hour of 6 am?

As entropy consumes me, I think about time. Time and its constructs and how it is at its elastic limit with me.

Time is shrinking. Not time itself, but its frame. The frame my brain has imagined for it, influenced by the environment, by my genes, my upbringing. From realizing an hour was a mere equivalent to reading less than a chapter of a book by Brontë or that a minute would only render me irritated when awoken at 7:29 by some insensitive fairy when that alarm was set to launch a minute later. Or a day would only compose of waking at noon and sleeping at dawn. Daylight has become irrelevant.

12 months lay bare before me. To say it is a clean slate is so trite or it is a lie that everybody tells themselves. There is no such thing as a clean slate and the next 12 months are merely composed of 4 weeks each. Has anyone thought about the last time they spent their batch of four weeks, roughly 3.5 weekends? All I did was wander or only wish for the next month to come, for a blank canvas to once again be handed to me; for another chance, another shot, because of the too many blunders and indecisions splattered in the first week of the month, leaving me waving a white flag.

Wait up!

But we carry with us everything. Everywhere. Time can never purge out what we are truly made of; only revealing itself again and again. Maybe in a decade, or even right before the moment we never thought it would return.

2015

Turning over a new leaf? Bah, humbug! Who said we could dust off our fallen crumbs and cast into oblivion all that has made us stand the way we are standing and breathe the way we are breathing… all the way to our decision to turn over a new leaf. God, this infirm phrase. « Turn over a new leaf ».

Can we really run away from a declared former self, shed a declared former skin, just because a new month, a new year is at its advent? Yet, how are we to regard this so-named frame of time; that is shrinking, that is only causing a bloated rush to our already ceaseless minds?

Carry on. Let us carry ourselves. Time may be shrinking that we let so many things pass more than we used to. But carry your old skin, but do not bare it. Do not let it slip from the shaded recesses wherein we force them into. Let the scars of yesteryears be sewn into veils only for sudden retreats and a hearty introspection. Keep these skins close, but never leave them behind, because we cannot afford to give up what we once were for somebody that will have just emerged and became new. Because we refuse. Because we are ashamed.

We renew, we reform, we update, truly. Our self prerequisites. It is not their fault that our timeframes keep diminishing. It is our perverse desire to leave them in the cold and run away that we find ourselves back to where we started ever so damnably.

So I’ll take my skins with me; never abandoning, always remembering.

SARTORIAL MENTION

G L A M R E C I T A Lhttp://www.glamrecital.com/

Not everything one might want is laid out ever so easily. Such is the reason and purpose of Glam Recital, a jewelry/accessories brand that offers absolutely stunning choices that are personally curated by its team of fashion editors. Each piece they hold is chosen for its ability to fully, or subtly, express its beholder’s personality.

N

CHomegrown and Expertly Crafted

S O P H I S T I C A T

C H I E F

Chief Clothing, prima facie, is a preppy boy’s go-to stop for classic, yet laidback pieces, but the heart of Chief actually beats for an Exploration Lifestyle that they express as this quenching of thirst for adventure and discovery. In the midst of regular life’s mundanity, this brand stands to inspire stepping out of one’s comfort zone and wander in blissful abandon to both see and learn about the world.

Sophisticat Shoes is the pizzazz every Pinay might need in the plausible dilemma of wanting to add more umph to her daily wear. It’s 2015, for goodness’ sake, and we’ve come so far as proving to be a budding capital of stylish women who are bolder and less conservative. With Sophisticat’s tasteful and uninhibiting designs, a constant revolution to be fresh and unique sallies forth.

www.facebook.com/sophisticatshoes

http://www.chiefclothing.com/

C

S

Queen of Streetswith Christia Valenciamake up by Inna Valerafeaturing pieces by Glam Recital & Sophisticat Shoes

Seiri November/December 2014