TP's Insiang: Daya at Laya

Images from www.tanghalangpilipino.com (Go and check out their site now! Nood na!)



I saw Tanghalang Pilipino’s rerun of Mario O’ Hara’s Insiang at the CCP last November 25 with some friends. Thanks to the subscription (Totally worth it!), we had good seats in the small Huseng Batute Theater.

I’ve waited a long time to see Insiang, having not caught its run in 2002. As I couldn’t use my pass for the initial October run, I had to wait another month. I was already excited by the buzz created by Bright-Eyed Boys, by numerous blogs, especially Gibbs Cadiz’s, and by celebrities and media folk who’ve raved about the production

The programme and the official website (http://www.brighteyedboys.com/insiang) summarize it:

The virginal Insiang boldly holds on to her dreams as she makes her way through the comic, complicated and reckless surroundings of the slums. Still reeling from the untimely death of her father, the young girl seeks affirmation from her mother who continues to be embittered by their situation. She discovers that love and comfort are short lived in the arms of her boyfriend and stepfather. A dangerous flower blossoms in the midst of the squalor as utter desperation sets in. Friends and neighbors can only watch helplessly as the jolting finale unfolds. The wrap-around set and the environmental staging puts audiences in the middle of this unsettling tale about the ruthlessness of power and the failure of forgiveness.

It was only when we entered the theater that I understood what the synopsis meant by “environmental staging.” To say that the wrap-around set was realistic is an understatement. Huseng Batute is small to begin with, but because of its size, it offers flexibility in staging and a sense of intimacy important in telling tales like Insiang’s. Consuming two sides of the small box-theater are urban shanties two storeys high, with Insiang’s as the only one fully exposed to the audience. Wooden scaffoldings rise directly above the audience so that looking up, one sees patches of rusting yero. Criscrossing just below those are black electric wires, tangled as in the real world. Further down are clotheslines with blankets and dusters hanging about.

The shanties look genuine, with trash stocked here and there and laundry hanging everywhere. The raised stage wraps around the audience along two sides and ends as a central ramp: the tubigan/labahan where tsismis is spread and lives are bared. Even behind the audience (along the back walls) there are sari-sari store posters and clothes hung about. If you wanted to, you can reach out and touch the set or even the players. In fact, the audience was so near the action, some unfortunate members got sprayed with “blood” in one of the violent scenes. You’d almost think as though you were really in the slums of Pasay save the air-conditioned setting and theatrical lighting.

The set makes you feel immediately part of the action and, indeed, that is needed as gossip seems to be one of key facets of the play. In this small community, everyone knows everything about each one’s lives. The questions that follow are: with all the tsismis going about, which are true and which must be believed? Toyang is at once introduced as the narrator figure and serves as our guide in telling the story of Insiang. Her addition creates a smoother flow for the story and helps introduce flashbacks well. As with most narrator figures, she has the power to stop occurrences, play them back again, and talk to the audience directly. Aside from this crucial task, she provides comic relief- sometimes juxtaposed with some of the most violent scenes you’ll see onstage, leaving one in the purgatory of laughter and shock.

Sheenly Vee Gener and Mailes Kanapi are wonders as actresses! I’ve never seen more powerful live performances than theirs. The gradual transformation of Sheenly from virginal Insiang to dangerous flower is flawless. Ricky Davao was menacing as Dado: a believable yet frightening “villain.” Peewee O’Hara was endearing as Toyang, bringing the right amount of comedy when the play called for it. The rest of the ensemble are also something to look forward to in future productions of TP. The show only reminded me why I love the company’s productions so much.


Insiang for me is a story of power and oppression. I remember vaguely Fr. Albert Alejo, S.J.’s article, Laya at Daya. Forget the power plays in Malacanang or Makati. The real power struggles happen down to the level of the masa. Oppression is not just a problem caused by those above. It is a vicious truth even to those below. Ika nga ni Dr. Gus Rodriguez ng Philosophy Department, “Being simple is different from being just. You can live simple lives and still be unjust.”

Napag-iisip ka kung kaya ba talagang mawala ang siklo ng Daya. Lahat tayo, dumaranas ng Daya sa iba’t ibang paraan. Ang masaklap, minsan naiisip natin na sa pagiging mandaraya sa halip na nadadaya, mas nakalalamang tayo at mas bubuti na ang buhay. Naghahanap tayo ng paraang mabawi ang nadaya sa atin at patuloy lang ang siklo.




Insiang, the innocent and oppressed, eventually learns to be the oppressor and still we cannot help but feel for her, even with her wicked deed at the end. We start to think if her setting could have allowed for any other course of action. Was there really no escape from this cycle of injustice?

Toyang frames the disturbing story as though it were a Pinoy telenovela. Amusingly, she gives technical descriptions of what happens next and later concludes that this is real life and not a telenovela. There is real-life drama happening in these communities; there is a real power-struggle. Even just from the sharing of experiences of Ateneans coming from their different immersion programs, we learn of different forms of injustice. Kung ang mga magsasaka na lang ng Sumilao, hindi pinakikinggan ng mga nasa itaas at hindi man lang pinakialaman ng marami nang magsimula sila, paano pa kaya ang mga kwento ng daya na sa maliliit na komunidad nangyayari? For all we know, we already have a multitude of Insiangs, jaded, shattered, and dead inside.

Of course, we know there is hope for change if we end the cycle of daya with ourselves and live as just as we can. It may take courage to cry out in the face of injustice and start the change, but it is achievable. We need not look far in looking for models for change: Gawad Kalinga, Simbahang Lingkod ng Diyos, JVP, and others working for change. In our hearts, we hold that freedom is at hand.

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Last three shows of Insiang today 8 December, 2007 at 3pm and 8pm and tomorrow, 9 December at 3pm. CCP Tanghalang Pilipino 8233661. NOOD NA!!!

Great production images seen at Jojit Lorenzo's Multiply Site: http://jojitlorenzo.multiply.com/photos/album/61/Insiang_performance



cross-posted: davidplatz.blogspot.com

His Dark Materials: What do you mean anti-God?

After reading the entire series, I was not offended as a Catholic. Perhaps it is true that if you read the series and your faith is shattered, then it may not have been strong enough to begin with. At the very least, it makes one question if he has really tried to understand what he believes in. (Theology as Faith seeking understanding, anyone?) If one is moved to learn more about his beliefs to have things clarified, then great! We shouldn't be drones and blindly accept what is thrown at us anyway.

It's interesting to note sometimes how the Magisterium of Lyra's world has corrupted different Church dogma found in "our world" too. We see scenarios speculating what could have happened if the Church hierarchy focused on building power alone, if the inquisition continued, and if dogmatic control was the only thing on its mind. We then start to think and be glad it's not the same in our world. (Or shudder at the thought if we are going there). Also, I believe one must not take the book as a religious treatise, but as a simple work of fiction. Pullman expresses his beliefs through some of the characters, but at the end, will not force you to share his own.

There is one statement I'd like to address, though, and it pertains to all organized religion:

Pullman writes, “But when you look at organised religion of whatever sort – whether it's Christianity in all its variants, or whether it's Islam or some forms of extreme Hinduism – wherever you see organised religion and priesthoods and power, you see cruelty and tyranny and repression. It's almost a universal law."

I don't believe that it's a "universal law." Perhaps he wrote this passage just as an extreme way of showing even organized religion can still go wrong at times and it is in such times that it must be wary of its power. It's not all cruelty, tyranny, and repression that we see in religion. There is a wealth of experiences immersed in love, sacrifice, and hope too.

The series' critics have a lot to say about the atheistic and anti-God sentiments of some characters. First, let it be clear that the Authority they speak of is different from the God we may believe in. His folklore may be based on some Gnostic beliefs that the God people know is different from the Creator. In the story, the Authority was just an early angel who seized control over all. Eventually, even this Authority grew older and simply delved into mysteries while his Reagent, the Metatron took over. It is this Metatron who was portrayed as ruthless and power-hungry. The novels are anti-authoritarian, against institutions that are drunk with power and stifle creative thought and free will.

Some of the best lines I've read regarding belief in God came from the third book in the series: The Amber Spyglass. Near the end, Lyra and Will question Mary Malone, a nun turned particle physicist and a self-proclaimed atheist, about her past and her faith.

"When you stopped believing in God," he (Will) went on, "did you stop believing in good and evil?"

"No. But I stopped believing there was a power of good and a power of evil that were outside us. And I came to believe that good and evil are names for what people do, not for what they are. All that we can say is that this is a good deed, because it helps someone, or that's an evil one, because it hurts them. Peopre are too complicated to have simple labels."

"Yes," said Lyra firmly.

"Did you miss God?" asked Will.

"Yes," Mary said, "terribly. And I still do. And what I miss most is the sense of being connected to the whole of the universe. I used to feel I was connected to God like that, and that because he was there, I was connected to the whole of his creation..."

She reflects again a few moments later.

This was the very thing she'd told Will about when he asked if she missed God: it was the sense that the whole universe was alive, and that everything was connected to everything with threads of meaning. When she'd been a Christian, she had felt connected, too; but when she left the Church, she felt loose and free and light, in a universe without purpose.

And then had come the discovery of the Shadows and her journey into another world, and now this vivid night, and it was plain that everything else was throbbing with purpose and meaning, but she was cut off from it. And it was impossible to find a connection, because there was no God.

Now how can that be anti-God?