KASIBULAN: Malakas at Maganda II Group Exhibit

Malakas at Maganda II: A Women’s Group Exhibit of Power and Beauty

KASIBULAN launches its second “Malakas at Maganda” exhibit at the St. Scholastica’s Museum on July 6 as a fundraiser for the St. Scholastica’s Mission Hospital in Pambujan, Northern Samar.

Manila, PH – KASIBULAN (Kababaihan sa Sining at Bagong Sibol na Kamalayan) will be launching its second “Malakas at Maganda” group exhibition series with the theme of woman being both strong and beautiful. The exhibit opens on July 6, Saturday, 4pm at the St. Scholastica’s Museum on Vito Cruz Street, Malate, Manila, with Guests of Honor Ceres Doyo, Tina Monzon-Palma, and Maan Hontiveros. The exhibit runs until August 3.

The exhibit project is for the benefit of St. Scholastica’s Hospital in Pambujan, Northern Samar.  Sister Mary John Mananzan, OSB, has spearheaded the building of the 25-bed hospital, which will serve the poorest in this community in critical need.

The exhibit is the second leg of the Malakas at Maganda series that showcases the Kasibulan artists’ definitions of women’s power, which includes the power to lead, govern, inspire, encourage, and effect change. In one legend of the creation of humans, the man was named “Malakas” (Strong), and the Woman “Maganda” (Beautiful), which perpetrates the stereotype that only man is capable of being strong, and woman should only strive to be beautiful. To claim the term “Malakas at Maganda” to describe a woman is thus to claim virtues that she naturally possesses: she is strong, and she is beautiful.

“Malakas at Maganda II” features artists Brenda V. Fajardo, Imelda Cajipe Endaya, Anna Fer, Julie Lluch, Vivian Nocum Limpin, June Dalisay, Doris G. Rodriguez, Elaine Lopez-Clemente, Baidy Mendoza, Charito Bitanga, Susan Fetalvero Roces, Yasmin Almonte, Arlene Villaver, Lenore RS Lim, Athena Magcase-Lopez, Lea Lim, Aba Lluch Dalena, Fel R. Plata, Christine Sioco, Eden T. Ocampo, Amihan Jumalon, Lot Arboleda, Tinsley Garanchon, Bernadette R. Reyes, Anne Carmela Rosario, and Nicole Anne Asis.

The exhibition will be accompanied by a Kasibulan Arts Bazaar on July 6 from 10am until 7pm, and will feature book art pieces from Veronica Laurel, and other artist-made crafts from the other members. Kasibulan will also hold Artist Talks at St. Scholastica’s Museum. On July 12, Friday, 10am – 12nn, artist talk topic is “The Babaylan in the Modern Age”, with main speaker National Historical Commissioner Fe Mangahas and artist-speakers Imelda Cajipe Endaya and Archie Ligo, to be moderated by Vivian N. Limpin. On July 26, Friday, 10am – 12nn, artist talk topic is “Traditional Art in the Age of New Media”, with main speaker UP Department of Art Studies Professor Eileen Legaspi Ramirez and artist-speakers Vivian N. Limpin and Glenda Maye Abad, to be moderated by Bebang Siy. Both talks are open to the public. The exhibit closes on August 3 with an artist sketching session, with guest artist Lynette Villariba of the Philippine Daily Inquirer, and other Kasibulan artists.

About Kasibulan

KASIBULAN (Kababaihan sa Sining at Bagong Sibol sa Kamalayan) is a sisterhood of women artists in the visual, literary, visual, performance, and new media arts, with the mission of providing members with opportunities for creativity, growth, and self-sufficiency, and work for the development of distinct women's expression.

Horses and Women

Mary Gaitskill is one skilled writer that brings out the raw tendencies of human beings. I discovered her while  contemplating to buy a snake stuff toy in Glorietta's many book bargain booths scattered around the mall when a friend of mine pulled out a book simply because the title was "Veronica".
And it was good, it was tragically beautiful.

Contrary to Paulo Coelho's Veronika decides to die, in Gaitskill's Veronica, she doesn't contemplate dying then attempts to do so - she denied it vehemently and successfully died.

Here is a short story that connects death and life.

The Mare
by Mary Gaitskill

I

met Velveteen when I was 45, but I felt still young. I looked young too. This is probably because I had not done many of the things most people of that age have done: I’d had no children and no successful career. I married late after crashing through a series of relationships and an intense half-life as an artist visible only in Lower Manhattan, the other half of my life being that of a drug addict. 

I met my husband in Narcotics Anonymous; he lived in the city then, though we’ve since moved to a small town upstate. He makes a good living as a tenured English professor at a small college. A lot of his income goes to support his wife and daughter from a previous marriage, and we live in an old faculty-housing unit long on charm and short on function. Not owning doesn’t bother us, though. We are comfortable, and we are happy with each other. We go out to eat a lot and travel in the summer. 

When people ask me what I do now, I sometimes say, “I’m retired,” sometimes, “I’m transitioning,” and very occasionally, “I’m a painter.” I’m embarrassed to say the last part even though it’s true: I paint almost every day, and I think I’m better than I was when I showed at a downtown gallery 20 years ago. But I’m embarrassed anyway because I know I sound foolish to people here, people who have kids, and jobs too, and who wouldn’t understand my life before I came here. There are a few—women who paint at home, too—who I’ve been able to talk about it with, describe what art used to be to me, and what I’m trying to make it be again: a place more real than anything in “real” life. A place I remember dimly, a place of deep joy, where, when I could get to it, was like tuning in to a radio frequency that was sacred to me. Regardless of anything else, nothing was more important than carrying that frequency on the dial of myself.  

Read more in Vice: http://www.vice.com/en_ca/read/the-mare-000811-v20n6?fb_action_ids=3116648053274&fb_action_types=og.likes&fb_source=aggregation&fb_aggregation_id=288381481237582