For Julie Lluch, one of the Philippines’ top sculptors, home truly works as proven by her and her three daughters in their first family exhibition at Alliance Francaise in Makati City.
Initially resistant to the idea of a family show, Lluch, 64, a philosophy alumna of the University of Santo Tomas, said: “I found the proposed concept of a family show the corniest thing. But as Alliance president Deanna Ongpin was very forceful in convincing us and we started to work, we found the idea not so cheesy anymore.”
Lluch, Sari, Aba and Kiri Dalena are known in Manila’s art circle as among the most stylish dressers and bold experimenters in their respective media. So going corny would be the path not taken.
The agreement was to pursue each one’s preferred direction, but as their pieces evolved, the reality set in that they are indeed a family, “always together, working parallel, sourcing, referencing, referring and referring to each other,” the mother said.
There was the obvious: Aba, Kiri and Julie live in the same four-storey house in Quezon City. Sari, married and a mother of two, resides nearby.
Lluch said: “We know each other intimately. I feel blessed to be their mother. Art seems so natural to them. I never thought I’d have a doctor in the family. We understand each other better because we move in the same art community. Sometimes, I wish one of us can cook well or can nurse when one of us is ill.”
The four women arrived at the title “Home Works,” the name of an earlier show Aba had. This latest one however does not refer to the job or assignment they had to do at their home studio but to the idea that their home life does work for all.
“In this show, I realized that we are our most comfortable and boldest selves,” Lluch said. “When the pieces were installed, I saw that the content was very sexual.”
Aba has a sculpture of dogs copulating. Kiri has gigantic condoms that could also be interpreted as breasts. Sari filmed, with her husband Keith Sicat’s assistance, a portrait of herself in the bloom of pregnancy, baring her body to the camera while floating in a pool.
When Lluch voiced aloud her observation, Sari said: “You’re the boldest, Mom. You’re the original.”
Sari, 40, a film studies graduate of the University of the Philippines, was jittery about her video being viewed by her father-in-law on opening night, but her sisters and mother affirmed her.
She said: “Afterwards, I didn’t need affirmation from elsewhere. We have lots of fun teasing each other.”
She credited Lluch for “giving us lots of freedom.”
Lluch’s oil painting “Self-portrait,” done in 1972, was shown for the first time. Sari was always mystified about it as a child, but she realized the depth of its subject matter when she became a mother. It shows Julie, pregnant with a second child and minding an unseen baby in a crib, waiting for her spouse to come home.
Sari said: “I related to it when I started waiting up for my husband and for the baby to be born. Sometimes, I find myself torn between raising a family and making films. What Mom painted was a good example of how to avoid post-partum depression by creating artworks or continuing working. Otherwise, you go crazy.”
Aba, 38, a UP fine arts graduate, created a series of dioramas about family life. One showed her father, painter Danilo Dalena painting. Another had her and her sisters engaged in child’s play (she drawing, Sari on the piano, and Kiri with a bundle about to run away from home). The third portrayed her mother surrounded by her cacti sculpture series. What unified the dioramas was the presence of one of their dogs in each as these pets were considered family, too.
Kiri, 34, who finished human ecology at UP Los Baños, agreed: “Home has held us all together.”
Her contributions referred to the condom sculptures and risqué-worded t-shirts her dad made in her childhood. For example, he had a shirt that said: “Key king math thumb book.” In Tagalog, these words read: “bulbous vagina.”
Kiri’s neon-lighted sculpture used the same play of words, this time poking fun at the male genitalia. Hers read: “Teeth thing mall lamb bought.” InFilipino, it means “soft penis.”
She also showed “Penis Line,” small, finger-sized penises in various positions of arousal and state of rest. She considered it ironic that while making these, she was working on a documentary on abortion.
To her, joining “Home Works” wasn’t all that hard. She said: “It was just about being yourself, being relaxed and at ease, except for Mom who issued constant reminders to us to finish our works on schedule.”
Just like a family, indeed.
Photo of Julie (in checkered skirt), family and blogger by GARI BUENAVISTA
Article originally published by VERA Files
