Martin Nanawa and his group from the dojo visited Rappler HQ in April to teach Rapplers some of the basics. The eager beavers were given bokken, which is a wooden sword for training in kenjutsu.

Among the lessons Martin shared were the importance of posture and breathing; of keeping your movements compact; and of responding to attacks calmly and deliberately.

It was an informative, hands-on session, and if these Rapplers stick with these lessons, they’ll be journalists by day, samurai warriors by night! – Rappler.com

Sugawara Budokai Manila holds classes every Saturday at 1:30 pm at Yoga Pod PH, Timog. Contact them via facebook.com/katorimanila!

But what is the origin of the sound and of this curious letter? Why don’t we find the letter ñ in other languages in which the sound does appear? Is the ñ the exclusive heritage of Spanish?

The origin of the sound

The letter ñ represents a sound that did not exist in Latin, but is found in most Romance languages (including Italian, Portuguese, French, and Spanish). This sound is defined as nasal (with air coming out of the nose), palatal (the tongue rests against the hard palate), and sonorous (the vocal cords vibrate).

To understand the origin of this sound, it must be borne in mind that, in addition to the cultured Latin, the people of the empire spoke what is known as “vulgar Latin.” So it was common throughout the empire to use peculiarities in pronunciation and morphological and syntactic simplifications.

One of these phenomena was the tendency to palatalize the “n,” which will give rise to the ñ sound, in three main contexts:

• NI/NE + vowel: When in Latin the group ni or ne appears followed by another vowel, the n catches the sound of the palatal vowels and ends up adopting the ñ sound. Such is the case of Latin vinea, which gives rise to viña (Spanish), vigne (French), vigna (Italian), vinha (Portuguese), and vinya (Catalan).
• GN: The sound also appears by evolution of gn, as in agnellus or agnuculus (little lamb), from which derives the French agneau, the Italian agnello, the Spanish añojo, or the Catalan anyell.
• NN/MN: the articulatory effort used to pronounce the groups nnn and mn also led over time to the ñ sound. This is the case in año (Spanish), which comes from the Latin annus, or sueño (Spanish), sogno (Italian), or sohno (Portuguese), which come from the Latin somnu.

The origin of the spelling ñ

In the Middle Ages, copyists and scribes came across a new sound for which there was no letter, so they transcribed it according to its Latin etymology as ni + vocal, gn or nn.

In order to save time and, above all, paper and ink, the use of abbreviations was very common. The nn was abbreviated with an n with a small virgulilla above it, and this is how, for reasons of economy, the letter ñ was born.

The work of Alfonso X the Wise in the 13th century was fundamental in selecting and fixing the ñ as the only spelling to represent the palatal nasal sound. Later, the first Spanish Grammar published by Antonio de Nebrija in 1492, recognizes the status of the ñ and its differentiated sound with respect to the letter n.

In the first general monolingual dictionary of Castilian, the Tesoro de la lengua castellana o española by Sebastián de Covarrubias (1611), the spelling ñ appears inside words. However, despite its full implementation, it was not until the publication of the Royal Spanish Academy dictionary of 1803 that it appeared as a differentiated initial letter.

The adoption of ñ as an abbreviation of nn is the solution adopted in Spanish and Galician. In Italian and French, the nasal palatalization was represented by the digraph gn, another of the Latin groups that gave rise to the sound. In Catalan, it is represented by the group ny, and in Portuguese, as in Occitan, as nh.

The ñ around the world

As we have seen, the sound appears in most of the languages that derive from Latin, but not only in them. It is also found in a variety of languages, from Slavic languages such as Czech (with its ň) or Polish (with its ń), to Amerindian and Senegalese languages.

Influenced by Spanish, the spelling ñ is also present in the Philippine languages, as well as in Guarani, Quechua, Mapuche, and Aymara, among others. In the United States, the ñ is found in terms of Spanish origin such as piña colada and El Niño. The Latin community demands respect for this spelling, which is present in surnames such as Peña or Núñez.

Although Spanish speakers do not have the exclusivity of the ñ, it is undoubtedly an icon of Spanish in the world. Moreover, it represents the struggle for cultural identity, and even resisted the attempt to standardize keyboards without the letter ñ in 1991, finding distinguished defenders such as Gabriel García Márquez and Mario Vargas Llosa, among others. – Rappler.com

Esther Nieto Moreno de Diezmas is Profesora Titular, Directora del Departamento de Filología Moderna, Universidad de Castilla-La Mancha.

This piece was originally published in The Conversation.

Is it Andres Bonifacio, with his bold battle cry amid the pealing of church bells? Perhaps Emilio Aguinaldo, who steered the fledgling republic in its first imperfect years? Or maybe Jose Rizal, who sooner laid down his life than forsook his country?

There are stories of men storming across bridges and barricades. There are others of men dying for their country. But there is also one of a hero who, through sheer brilliance, first forced the world to gaze upon a Filipino as their equal: Juan Luna. 

“We were starting to see ourselves as a people, not just through the lens of our colonizers. And here was a man who had undeniable genius,” Jei Ente, assistant curator at the Ayala Museum, told Rappler.

“Regardless of what they can say about the ‘race’ of the Filipinos, here was Juan Luna debunking all of it: what the capacity and the capabilities of Filipinos, of the ‘brown man,’ were. Here he was, standing above all of his European contemporaries.” 

This is the story of Philippine independence from an artist’s eyes, retold on the 125th birth date of the nation. And it starts with the homecoming of Luna’s long-lost masterpiece.

‘Holy grail of Philippine art’

Sometimes, we need a reminder to remember our past. This time, it came in the form of a cultural treasure rediscovered after disappearing more than a 130 years ago. 

The holy grail of Philippine art, they called it. The find of the century. Ineffable. A true sight to behold. And yet, this all came short of unraveling the mythical air behind Juan Luna’s missing masterpiece: Hymen, oh Hyménée!

The quest to find it is remarkable on its own, but that is a separate story to tell. It has since been reopened to the public in an exhibition titled “Splendor: Juan Luna, Painter as Hero” at the Ayala Museum on Monday, June 12.

The painting, feared to have been destroyed during the revolution, is hailed by many art collectors as the “holy grail of Philippine art” – due to both Luna’s brilliance and the air of mystery surrounding the piece.

By the time he had painted Hymen, oh Hyménée!, Luna had already made a name for himself. Five years back, he had won gold and international acclaim with Spoliarium. But it was this piece, which won bronze in the 1889 Paris World’s Fair, that cemented his status as a master painter.

The artwork, which depicts what looks to be a Roman wedding feast, is splendid, celebratory, and full of hope. But staring at it, one might struggle with seeing themselves in the work. We don’t see a typical Filipino scene in the painting, which is thoroughly Western in its style. 

“It’s so foreign, even if it’s Juan Luna. He has a lot of foreign or European-inspired works. But when we know the story of this painting, we know the story of his time,” said Ente, who was part of the team that set up the painting’s exhibit in Ayala Museum.

Luna worked on the painting while deep in the throes of love, during his honeymoon trip with his wife, Paz Pardo de Tavera, daughter of the Grand Inquisitor of Spain. 

Some experts believed that it may have been a gift to Paz. The imagery too might mirror the artist’s own wedding to his wife – one that, at first, drew heated disapproval due to their different social status and so-called “races.”

“In the context of ancient Rome, where only Roman citizens were allowed to marry, marriage was a significant rite of passage that solidified one’s status as a full citizen with all the associated rights and privileges. This rite was particularly significant for Luna, since he came from a society where race prevented marrying into a higher class,” explained Kenneth Esguerra, senior curator of the Ayala Museum in a documentary.

“By marrying Paz, Luna transcended social barriers and overcame colonial limitations. He was able to bridge the social divide and become a global citizen,” he added.

And it was this sense of overcoming “colonial limitations” that remained a constant theme of Luna’s life as a painter in Spain at a time of great racial divides.

(READ: ‘Holy grail’: Juan Luna’s lost masterpiece revealed after 132 years)

‘Luna, the painter as hero’

Juan Luna hailed from the sleepy town of Badoc, Ilocos Norte – or, as the Spanish called it, the “wrong part of the island of Luzon.” 

Traveling to Manila and then Madrid, Luna studied under art school after art school, winning recognition but never quite finding the teacher he needed. But he would soon find his mentor in Alejo Vera, who painted historical scenes to perfection. And it showed in the works that set up Luna’s meteoric rise to the top of the European art scene. 

The year was 1881, and Luna was just 24 years old when he painted The Death of Cleopatra. The work, depicting the Egyptian queen moments after death, garnered Luna his first major award, a silver medal in the Exposición Nacional de Bellas Artes.

But it would be in the next Spanish national exhibition that Luna would cement his name – and awaken the Filipino consciousness. 

In 1884, Luna unveiled Spoliarium, winning a gold medal and beating out other Spanish artists. In dark, harsh hues, the painting depicted dying Roman gladiators being stripped of their spoils, their weapons, their armor. In an unlit corner, a woman weeps over a body.

In the same exhibition, Filipino painter Félix Hidalgo also won a silver medal for his Las Virgenes Cristianas Expuestas al Populacho, which showed Christian female slaves being unclothed and eyed by Roman men.

But Luna didn’t speak of anything political or patriotic when he won as a Filipino artist – or in the terminology of the time, an “artist from the Philippine islands.” Neither did Hidalgo.

It was Rizal who invoked the power within these paintings, the messages that lay just beneath the brushstrokes. 

In a congratulatory toast to Luna and Hidalgo, Rizal spoke with eloquence and boldness, saying that the two paintings embodied “the essence of our social, moral and political life: humanity in severe ordeal, humanity unredeemed, reason and idealism in open struggle with prejudice, fanaticism, and injustice.”

“Genius has no country, genius bursts forth everywhere, genius is like light and air, the patrimony of all: cosmopolitan as space, as life and God,” Rizal said of Luna.

Luna never quite became as vocal with his political views as the likes of Jose Rizal or Marcelo H. del Pilar. He never took up a rifle in defense of the nation, unlike his fiery brother Antonio. But he had always allied himself with the members of the Propaganda Movement. In 1899, under Aguinaldo’s government, Luna served as a member of delegations that worked on the diplomatic recognition of the Philippines.

‘He gave them something to believe in’

In many ways, the triumph of Luna over his Spanish contemporaries became a turning point in how Filipinos perceived themselves.

“You can tie it to the whole story of how Juan Luna was part of that list of important people who really gave us the courage and the belief that this fight is actually worth fighting for – for this nation, for this representation, this self-erudition, self-acknowledgement,” Ente said.

When we study our history and how we became a nation, we look at our military history. We study the battles. We remember the people who died. Who shot this captain? Who won the battle in this province or sea?

While plenty of important battles were fought for Philippine independence, perhaps an equally important detail is where this sense of peoplehood first came from.

“But what makes these men go through these battles? It has to be a belief. There has to be something that they should have believed in – something intangible, something inner, like a reality that happens inside before it can manifest externally through bravery, through martyrdom.”

The revolution would follow soon after Luna had first stirred a whole nation’s sense of pride. Seven years after Hymen, oh Hyménée! brought the talent of the Philippines to the world, the first gunshots of independence rang out.

“For generations and for centuries, as a colonized people, we were taught we were of this level and we were subjugated. But for a painter – for a Filipino – to break through a very elite and very closed-off world, such as the world of fine arts, that must have meant something to his peers, who were also starting to feel that we should be recognized with our own voice,” Ente said. 

“He gave them something to believe in.” – Rappler.com

As with all unplanned trips, we go where the music takes us, and by a wonderful twist, a day trip to Sagay, some 80 kms from Bacolod was arranged. Here the artist Nunelucio “Nune” Alvarado has managed to inspire and help create a community that without doubt must be the most colorful and artistic in the country. Nune was born and grew up in Fabrica, a town of Sagay. A journalist friend, Allen, knew Nune personally and was with us during the visit.

The country’s most colorful and artistic barangay 

Purok Bougainvillea in Barangay Old Sagay is right along the scenic Margaha beach. You are welcomed by a sign, “Welcome to our community of colors,” and a barrage of bougainvillea blooms. Unconsciously, you simply slow down and meander along the barangay road that snakes behind several resorts, as colorfully painted gates, fences, frontages, and walls of houses and sari-sari stores come into view.  It seems like you have stepped into a different world, one unlike the brown, windy drabness of seaside towns.  

It wasn’t always like this, though. According to Sally, Nune’s wife, they first came back in 2005, visiting regularly from Bacolod, and eventually moved to the purok in 2016. Both Nune and Sally are active campaigners for social justice, the arts, and the environment. The barangay was part of a marine reserve, and there was initial hostility from other residents who felt they were preaching and hectoring with their beach clean-ups. They were simply doing what they felt was right as part of a responsible and caring community. 

Nune set up a studio beachside, organized a “Pintor Kulapol” (Lousy Painter) group, and involved youth in the arts, holding various workshops for young people on painting, drawing, and printmaking. Exhibitions were organized. Bit by bit the community came together, and the colors erupted, with a “Pinta Balay” initiative. This was heartily supported by local government, private citizens, and volunteers. Barangay youth and trisikad drivers were trained to become volunteer guides and stewards.  The internationally known Alvarado name helped – Nune has represented the country in numerous exhibitions, and several museums in Asia have his work. Foreign volunteers and artists visited, some staying for weeks to help, volunteer, or do residencies. Award-winning artists like Charlie Co also painted murals along Margaha.

The Alvarado studio is on the second floor of a nipa and bamboo building that’s chockfull of art pieces, works in progress, and memorabilia from Nune’s many exhibitions. It screams, “An artist lives here!” Strewn around are sketches, pens, brushes, watercolors, magazines, exhibition programs, seashells, wine bottles, and stones painted with faces.

Though he had a stroke a few years ago and early signs of Parkinson’s have manifested, Nune at 73 is still by turns biting, satirical, and witty, arguing and laughing with us while tracing lines on cardboard with a pen and ruler. We spent almost three hours chatting and enjoying a delicious lunch with scallops, pinangat, and adobong pusit, amidst the sound of the surf and a panoramic view from his balcony. 

There was a striking installation on the beach – seven totem-like poles representing the seven forms of art (Painting, Sculpture, Literature, Architecture, Theater, Film, and Music. It was a clear and windy day and the clouds frolicked above, tracing shadows on the beach, as children swam and ran about. The island barangay of Suyac could be seen across the port. Suyac is the setting for the Anton Juan film, Ang Amon Banwa sa Lawod, a meditative, dream-like, yet gripping film telling the stories of people and souls inhabiting the island, its script loosely based on the Thornton Wilder classic, Our Town. By coincidence I managed to catch an early release of the film at the Iloilo cinematheque a couple of weeks prior to the trip, but never expected that I’d see the island itself. 

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[Ilonggo Notes] A city of cultural heritage tourism zones

I toured the galleries and workshop areas and joined a trisikad tour of the barangay, guided ably by an Alvarado nephew with the unusual name of Yqfryd. We had iced coffee at the Café Albarako, owned by the couple. Many of the works in the galleries are influenced by Nune’s characteristic styles, social consciousness, and use of angular lines and lush colors. A film festival, the Margaha, has been held three times, to encourage budding filmmakers from Sagay and help them hone their craft. Several young directors have won awards and have had their films included in festivals in Manila. During World Tourism Day, a tribute to Nune was organized by the city and a mural was unveiled.

There was more to see and appreciate. The Negros Children’s Museum, a hands-on and interactive museum focused on the marine environment and conservation education, is nearby, but was closed for the weekend. Then, there is Suyac Island with its mangrove preserves to explore. Sagay beckons for an immersive art experience.

The Bacolod Art District – a feast for the senses

In Bacolod, a must-visit for admirers of contemporary visual art is the 8,000-square meter sprawl that is the Bacolod Art District (BAD), located beside Lopue’s Mandalagan. Bubbly tour guide and old friend Virna Ascalon Tan took us there for a reunion with her brother, Dennis, one of the movers and shakers in the contemporary arts scene in Region VI. He is also a co-founder of the Black Artists in Asia, with Nune, Charlie Co, and Norberto “Peewee” Roldan. We visited when dusk was settling in, and I was so fascinated by the works and the galleries – a surprise at every corner – that I had to go back the next morning to make sure I didn’t miss any of the artwork. Unlike artificially-lit indoor art housed in a gallery, outdoor artworks and installations call out to be seen during different times of the day or night.  

At the heart of the BAD is the Orange Gallery and sculpture garden. The minimalist-style gallery has a mezzanine that appears to float. It has about 1,500 square meters for indoor display space, with a sculpture garden beside it. You immediately get the feeling it is there to host the artworks, allowing for maximum visibility and appreciation. There are several other smaller galleries in the complex, but they were closed in the morning. A mini theater not much bigger than a container van has on its walls a series of amusing cartoons paying homage to Peque Gallaga, a series entitled Little Peque Makes a Movie. That would have drawn guffaws out from the late director, one of the best the country has had.  

All the bare surfaces in the BAD complex – interior walls, stairwells, connecting alleys, as well as restrooms are painted with murals of differing styles, or mounted with seemingly flying installations like carabaos, horses, dragons, demon-like creatures, and astronauts jutting out from the edges of walls.  Even a wall full of working contadors (electric meters) seems to have been done as an installation. From the fantastical and absurd, to those with a social commentary, it is an amazing mélange that recalls “The Factory” in Phnom Penh. 

It’s the installations and mixed media sculptures that are fascinating; old model vehicles have been pimped up and become art pieces; benches and swings for the children are artfully designed and arranged; and various sculptures, whether in concrete, plaster, or scrap metal beckon one for a selfie, a closer look, or a view from a different angle – the works are simply that engaging. One can also enjoy a meal (cheap turo-turo places abound in the area, a favorite for employees working both day and night shifts) or have a coffee at one of the funky coffee places around.  

The original gallery was first set up in 2005. There have been several alterations to the complex over the years, and the current layout has been in place since 2018. Most of the works – two thirds of those currently seen – were done only during the COVID-19 pandemic, as artists struggled, and somehow it gave even greater impetus to create. 

The whole BAD and local arts community are extremely lucky and blessed to have artist-entrepreneurs and business partners Charlie Co and Victor Benjamin Lopue III. Their shared vision and imagination, creativity, and concern for younger artists over the decades has led to the blossoming of arts consciousness in Negros and in the whole of Region VI. As the website for the Orange Project aptly puts it, “It is art with no fear. And fun.“ – Rappler.com

Vic Salas is a physician and public health specialist by training, and now retired from international consulting work. He is back in Iloilo City, where he spent his first quarter century.

MANILA, Philippines – After disappearing from the public for 132 years, Juan Luna’s missing masterpiece Hymen, oh Hyménée! has finally been tracked down. And it’s now returned to Luna’s home country for the first time ever.

The painting, feared to have been destroyed during the revolution, is hailed by many art collectors as the “holy grail of Philippine art” – due to both Luna’s brilliance and the air of mystery surrounding the piece. It belonged to his personal collection; he never made it with the intention of submitting it in a competition or as a commissioned work. 

Unlike the much-acclaimed Spoliarium, Hymen, oh Hyménée! tells a gentler story. In hues of marble white and bold red, it depicts what looks to be a Roman wedding feast.

And in many ways, the painting is highly personal to Luna, who worked on it during his honeymoon trip with his wife, Paz Pardo de Tavera, daughter of the Grand Inquisitor of Spain. Scholars speculate that the imagery could mirror the artist’s own wedding to his wife – one that, at first, drew heated disapproval due to their different social status and so-called “races.”

The last time the public had ever seen the piece was in 1889, when it won bronze in the groundbreaking 1889 Paris World’s Fair – the same one that revealed the Eiffel Tower to the world. From that point on, its whereabouts would become unknown for more than a hundred years.

So how did we find it again?

‘Find of the century’

The quest for Hymen, oh Hyménée! was nearly ten years in the making – first a dream, then an obsession of one man: art collector Jaime Ponce de Leon of León Gallery.

“It was, I thought, the greatest painting that didn’t exist,” De Leon said during the exhibition’s opening night on Friday, June 9.

For decades, proof of the mythical painting existed only in whispers and rumors, sketches on Luna’s old paintings, and yellowed photographs. But De Leon continued undeterred, chasing leads around Europe.

“The dream of finding it would thus become a tireless obsession and I would find myself haunting galleries and dealers, famous and some infamous, all over Europe, courting old maids and befriending aristocrats, and everybody and anybody in between who had some connection to Juan Luna and to the Philippines,” he said.

Until – finally – in 2014, de Leon received a call from an old friend instructing him to be at the doorstep of a “certain aristocratic home” in Europe by 10 am. 

And, behind the curtains, there it was.

De Leon skirted around the details of how exactly he acquired the painting. But once it came into his hands, he kept it safe in a crate in his storeroom, waiting for the perfect moment to reintroduce it to the Philippines.

In 2022, thanks to “extraordinary circumstances,” de Leon agreed to loan the piece to Ayala Museum, where it now sits as the centerpiece of the exhibition Splendor: Juan Luna, Painter as Hero.

“It’s such an opportune time that a painting that was in the thick of all of these things in world history and of course, Philippine history – that has never been seen 130 years after – suddenly came to our knowledge,” Jei Ente, Ayala Museum’s assistant curator, told Rappler on Friday.

It’s uncommon for an exhibition to revolve around a single work of art. But the rediscovery of this long-lost cultural treasure tells many stories – not just those that begin on the canvas, but also those about a time and place not our own.

The exhibition unfurls the context surrounding Hymen, oh Hyménée! It looks at how the world was on the cusp of change in 1889, as the Philippines inched toward its own revolution. It explores how Luna’s success in Europe inspired a sense of nationhood and Filipino spirit. And it poses as many questions as it answers: who was Juan Luna really, the hero, the painter, the person?

To commemorate the 125th anniversary of Philippine independence, the exhibition will open to the public on June 12. Admission to Ayala Museum and Splendor: Juan Luna, Painter as Hero will be free. – Rappler.com

The inflatable yellow ducks, 18 meters (59 feet) high, will sail on the harbor for two weeks and come a decade after Hofman’s “Rubber Duck” sculpture drew crowds in the Asian financial hub in 2013.

Hofman said his pair of ducks represent “twice the fun, double the happiness” and bring new excitement to Hong Kong.

“I hope it will bring as much pleasure as it did in the past and in a world where we suffered from a pandemic, wars and political situation, I think it’s the right moment to bring back the double luck.”

Curator AllRightsReserved (ARR) said the ducks were like the symmetrical Chinese characters “xi” for happiness and “peng” for friends.

Hofman, who was inspired by a world map and rubber duck to create his giant inflatable rubber duck installation, began a world tour starting from the Netherlands in 2007, making stops in harbors from France to Brazil.

Stationed near Hong Kong’s central district and Tamar Park, the ducks swam across Victoria Harbour to the delight of dozens of bystanders.

Anna, a 40-year old woman, who was walking the promenade said she enjoyed seeing the ducks.

“We would like more installation art like the rubber ducks in Hong Kong. Right now there isn’t much space for art in Hong Kong if we compare it to Macau or Shenzhen, they have more art installations.”

A 40-year-old engineer named Kane said the ducks were positive for Hong Kong. “It’s a silver lining when the society is in such low spirits. It’s better the government to spend public money on this than on other areas.” – Rappler.com

Two and a half years later, Amanda continues to be detained at the Cagayan Provincial Jail in Tuguegarao, stuck in limbo as legal proceedings for her case barely inch forward. 

To help raise awareness of her case and funds in support of her release, the Free Amanda Echanis Network (FAEN) launched Tatuan para sa Kalayaan in April 2023. Volunteer tattoo artists designed tattoo flash sets referring to Amanda’s plight, and a percentage of proceeds from people who pay to get inked with any of these illustrations will go to the Free Amanda Echanis Fund handled by FAEN. 

How do I participate?

1. Choose a design among the tattoo flash sets designed by the volunteer tattoo artists. 

2. Schedule a studio visit with your preferred tattoo artist. Details, contact information, and the price for each design are provided with each tattoo flash set. 

3. 20% of the proceeds from these tattoo sessions will be donated to the Free Amanda Echanis Fund. 

4. The activity will run until Amanda gains her freedom. 

Which designs can I choose from?

Samples of tattoos done for Tatuan para sa Kalayaan

– Rappler.com

For further inquiries, contact the Free Amanda Echanis Network.

Komiket’s official Twitter account wrote: “We may not be as big or as successful as the bigger cons but you can certainly judge us based on our track record of the good work we do for komiks creators and the Komiket community over the years. We are a nonprofit organization that aims to help nurture the komiks community.”

Their succeeding tweet read, “So even if you’re there for the stickers, prints, postcards, or crafts, please be more tolerant and accepting of our non-LGBT komiks creators. They are also an underserved, marginalized, and exploited creative sector.”

Netizens were quick to respond, with many pointing out that Komiket Pride, advertised as a comics and art convention for the LGBTQ+ community, was ironically not making enough space for them. 

One tweeted, “‘Welcome to Komiket Pride 2023! Now 90% queer!’ Don’t you realize how hilarious that sounds?”

Another said, “It’s so stupid to decide not to fill Komiket PRIDE with only LGBTQ+ artists just because you want to prioritize comic artists. Like you literally have seven other events slated this year for said artists? Couldn’t we have claimed this one-time annual event for ourselves?”

“Imagine being queer and not making it on the shortlist in tabling at a con ADVERTISED for queer artists only to find out you were disregarded to let non-queers table at said event, in the name of ‘inclusivity,’ during Pride month of all months,” wrote artist louquorice.

Dr. Thomas Baudinette, a senior lecturer in Macquarie University, also pointed out that Komiket failed to “acknowledge that the discrimination and marginalization of LGBTQ+ creators is compounded, whereas straight creators still have access to the privilege of straightness.”

Following the backlash, Komiket co-founder and president Paolo Herras posted an apology on Thursday, June 8, explaining that he had not consulted with the Komiket team before publishing the controversial tweet.

“I should have consulted with my team before we put up the message. I was feeling the pressure and made a mistake, some steps were skipped, and for that I’m sorry,” he wrote. “But through my own oversight, I didn’t realize the impact on the community and those who didn’t get a chance this year. I understand I have hurt all your feelings, and for that I am truly sorry.”

Later on, the official Komiket account also tweeted a brief apology, saying that they “deleted the post and [apologized] again,” and asking for continued support for the Komiket Pride exhibitors. 

Amid the backlash, netizens also urged others to attend Komiket Pride in support of the LGBTQ+ exhibitors.

“Please please still support the LGBTQIA+ artists [in] Komiket Pride,” artist jhorliearts wrote. “Don’t let Komiket’s statements stop you from supporting the artists. They poured their time, effort, and money [into producing] queer merch.”

Komiket is a comics art market that first launched in April 2015, and has since held events around Metro Manila, Cavite, and Cebu annually. 

The Komiket Pride art market will be held from June 16 to June 18, at Ayala Malls the 30th in Pasig City. – Rappler.com

In this episode of Stan by Me, Rappler’s talk show on all things fandom, we chat with Mary Clare Dela Torre Salazar, also known as Logihy, and Charlene Gallardo, also known as Corny Babe! Both will be selling their works at the Komiket Pride art market this June 16-18 at Ayala Malls the 30th. We find out how they got into visual art, how their gender informs their work, and the importance of spaces such as Komiket Pride.

Watch this episode here on Thursday, June 8, at 5 pm, or check out Rappler on Facebook! – Rappler.com

Born deaf, CJ was vulnerable to discrimination and stereotyping from an early age, but he didn’t let his disability deter him from what he loved to do – drawing. He also credits his parents for providing a healthy environment to evolve in this craft. 

“Since I was a kid, I loved drawing anime and Disney. I was really a drawing addict,” he shared to Rappler in an interview on May 18. “When I was a kid, I wanted to receive art materials rather than toys. My parents were very supportive of this passion. They encouraged me to develop my skills and talent.”

Fast forward to today, and the 25-year-old from Antipolo has achieved much respect by using his art to advocate for Deaf awareness as well as LGBTQ+ rights – oftentimes merging both, like in his illustrations on how to say queer terms using Filipino Sign Language (FSL).

Celebrating identity

CJ first realized he was gay when he was a freshman in high school, when it occurred to him that he didn’t behave in stereotypically masculine ways. He had also been sexually awakened through yaoi, a genre of manga that depicts love between men. And like many young members of the LGBTQ+ community, CJ faced prejudice from ignorant people in his environment. 

“I was often bullied by my classmates because I liked a male student,” CJ confessed. “I remember, at first, I was confused with myself, but eventually, I learned to embrace who I am.”

Similarly, CJ also owns his deafness with gusto.

“There’s this ableist stereotype that deaf people can’t do anything just because they can’t hear. That’s bullcrap,” CJ said. “Deaf people are just as capable of anything as hearing people.”

He went on to explain that even the deaf can enjoy music by feeling a song’s vibrations, or through the help of an interpreter. The deaf, he added, also have inner voices that can make sounds such as laughing and screaming. There were countless misconceptions that he was determined to debunk. 

This positive outlook and determination to be himself despite the odds is reflected clearly in CJ’s art. When visiting his social media accounts – under the name Caldatelier, a merging of his first name Caldwell and “atelier” or studio – one is treated to art that not only endears, with its cheery, wide-eyed characters and creamy color palette, but also educates. 

Why go the educational route? According to CJ, he is determined to bridge the gap between the deaf and the hearing with his instructional FSL illustrations. 

“Promoting the language of deaf people will give us a sense of pride, that we are part of a society, a part of a culture,” he asserted. “FSL is the heart of local Deaf culture, and it’s an essential tool to communicate with each other and bring communities together. It would be awesome if we saw hearing people who know how to sign and can talk to us through FSL.”

Besides championing the Deaf and the LGBTQ+, CJ also advocates for other minorities such as people with autism, and is also quite passionate about local folklore and modern Filipino culture.

“I want to make Filipino people appreciate their own culture, and allow for other nationals to know more about Filipino culture as well,” CJ said.

CJ’s combination of talent and advocacy has earned him quite the following. As of writing, his Caldatelier Facebook page has 46,000 followers, his Twitter account has 40,600 followers, and his Instagram account has 27,600 followers. In the comments sections of his pieces, people also often express their gratitude for his promotion of less visible communities. 

Making and finding space

Regardless, CJ is a freelance illustrator, and making a living as one isn’t as easy as it looks.

“After graduation, I tried to be an employee, first as a graphic designer for paper products and then as an assistant marketer for an animation studio. But then I realized I would be more happy and satisfied working as a freelancer, since I could explore other opportunities and work with different people,” CJ recounted. 

“However, it’s especially hard for young artists who are just starting their career,” he stressed. “For one, it is really difficult to establish a competitive rate for our work. There is no fixed or standard rate. For another, there is the issue of protecting your intellectual property.”

Fortunately, there are spaces such as indie art market Komiket, which CJ frequents in order to sell his works and connect with fellow creatives and art lovers – a refreshing respite from the pressures of fielding online commissions. An upcoming edition, to be held June 16-18 at Ayala Malls the 30th in Ortigas, is even dedicated to LGBTQ+ creators in time for Pride Month. 

“It makes me feel seen. I feel safe knowing that I’m not alone,” CJ said of the upcoming event, dubbed Komiket Pride. “I’m happy that they are ready to embrace diversity and inclusion.”

Finally, when asked for his advice to budding young artists, CJ’s answer could not have been more apt given what he has accomplished: “Be kind to yourself. Don’t put yourself in a cage. Explore and don’t be discouraged. Keep on moving forward.” – Rappler.com