In the Fall of 2023, eleven artists of Orange Project in the Bacolod Art District traveled to Germany for a 6-week artist residency at the Kunstkraftwerk, Leipzig, in partnership with the Goethe-Institut. The residency culminated in an exhibition titled Tropical Halo-Halo, consisting of the artists’ individuals works and a collaborative mural that exudes Visayan energy and creativity.

Concurrent with the exhibit, the artists organized two public programs involving local communities in Leipzig. In Super Love, children from families who were displaced during ongoing wars were invited to draw on the surfaces of large balloons. In Paint Over Pain, Orange Project artists visited a hospital’s cancer ward, and together with the cancer patients, decorated their radiation masks.

The journey was both a challenging and inspirational involvement that the artists claim “will form part of our core memories.” Harnessing typical Negrense fortitude and synergy, they supported each other in completing a project made more onerous by cultural differences and the onset of winter. Together they brought forth a collection of powerful works that the Philippines can be proud of. 

Six months later, the artists reunite for Diri Man Ni, a local iteration of the Leipzig show. Half a year gone by has provided ample time for reflecting on all that had transpired and was learned. Presented are some of the works first shown in Germany, together with other pieces made during their time there, several new works made in the Philippines, and a collaborative mural the artists completed before their departure to Germany.

For the Leipzig show, Faye Abantao portrayed their ocean crossing from Negros to Germany with an installation of suspended paper boats. A video of crashing waves recorded at a fishing community in Palawan was projected onto the boats. While the work represents an overseas journey, it also symbolizes the artist’s memory of her father who owned a boat for catching fish.  For Diri Man Ni, Abantao presents a wallbound piece; image transfers of paper boats are located inside a dilapidated interior. “The setting recalls the basement of an abandoned light station from the 1900s—where Kunstkraftwerk now stands. Its structure reminds me of a recurring dream I used to have when I was little: of a dilapidated room with peeling wallpapers, a dusty smell, and it was very cold—exactly like the basement of the Kunstkraftwerk.”

Beside it, Abantao installed three shelves, each containing albums for viewers to browse. The albums are keepsakes for a collection of photos taken in Leipzig, Berlin, and Prague. The albums are inspired by her mother, who made dozens of photo albums documenting every special event throughout the artist’s growing years. The artist’s father was a seaman. Each time he came home, her mother would show him these photographs. Abantao began to understand and appreciate the album-making habit only recently, during her trip to Germany. Yet her albums are not typical ones; she selected blurry photos, “the in-between moments when everything is moving.”

In Germany, Brandon Braza recreated the experience of a jeepney tour in which the audience could view Philippine scenes through the windows. For Diri Man Ni, he flips the experience. His moving image work collages video clips from German friends combined with his own footage recorded while he was there. Examples are scenes from the Christmas market, a friend making pancakes in her kitchen, jamming at a friend’s house, a school visit to watch students who were printmaking, and an evening date to attend the Bjork concert. The video’s monitor is layered over with a pane of glass onto which sand is arranged to resemble termite holes.

A second wallbound work recalls a termite trail based on the map of Leipzig. It represents the artists’ “entry into an unknown colony yet we were able to trace our tracks and make our way.” On the floor is an installation of sand formed into the shape of snowmen. Braza’s research revealed that this is a practice in the Northern Territories—they shape sand into snowman-like forms and dress up the figures. He is interested in the similarities and differences between cultures: while some believe that dressing these sand snowmen will harm the clothes’ owner, scientists have also studied that termites can aid in high uric acid.

Aeson Baldevia pre-recorded two Bacolod-based opera singers performing Payapang Daigdig (1946), a song composed by National for Music Felipe de Leon with lyrics by Brigido Batumbakal. The song is a Tagalog version of the Christmas carol Silent Night intended to bring a sense of peace when the war ended in 1946. The duet is sung by Regina Saban and Herbert Zayco and was recorded solely for Baldevia’s artwork. It is a cry for peace in the present day– at the time of the residency approaching Christmas, a commentary on the current wars that still wage in different regions of the world. He will be projecting the same video at Diri Man Ni on a screen fronted by a one-way mirror so that the faces appear to floating within the gallery space. Baldevia will also be presenting two books of black and white street photography captured in Germany. He further printed the same images on postcards set onto rows of shelves. As a prelude to his forthcoming solo show, these images examine crossroads, a theme that Baldevia continues to explore.

While in Germany, Roedil Geraldo would draw during every moment of spare time. Employing various media—pen and ink, charcoal, colored pencils, watercolor and colored inks– he made artworks on 97 sheets of paper. Collectively titled Diary of My Life, the drawings are a visual recording of places the artist would pass every day, self-portraits, depictions of crowds and cityscapes, influences from graffiti with texts written over images, references to God, wars, freedom, observed personalities, and a recurring human figure with a head dropped down to one side, much like common portrayals of Christ on the cross.

In keeping with his process at home, Perry Argel collected found objects throughout his journey from Manila to Istanbul to Leipzig and back. With them he built an installation for Tropical Halo-Halo. After the show, Argel continued collecting objects to bring home to be repurposed for his work here. A disposable lighter from Germany was added to his collection of lighters for a wallbound assemblage. A second wall piece has plastic letters and toys that remind us of the ongoing dispute over territories in the South China / North Philippine Sea. Despite these elements, Argel’s works are not overtly political. He is more interested in the playful compositions of forms, inviting viewers to make their connections.

A small sculpture sits atop a damaged piano that he brought home from Germany in 1996. The sculpture is made of collected objects like drink bottles, broken toys, and an airplane knife. Bound together, they stitch time and experiences that are decades apart. Another sculpture is composed of a glass boot, part of a chicken figure and a glove, set atop a stand affixed with license plates, and various bottle caps, all scavenged from Germany. On the floor is an old Germany accordion and its case, rescued from the garbage bin.

A latest addition are 3 rare abstract drawings, a genre we haven’t seen in an Argel exhibit in a long time; although through the years, he constantly continued drawing. The triptych was started in Germany, in black and white, and finished in the Philippines where he added color. The individual pieces can be rearranged or re-oriented, inviting audiences to also play with composition and decide how they would like the artwork to look.

Manny Montelibano presented a four-channel video installation using thermal imagery technology. He will be showing these works again for Diri Man Ni. Apart from Germany, they have only been previously exhibited at other Philippine locations: Ilomoca in Iloilo, Qube Gallery in Cebu, and ALT Philippines in Metro Manila. Titled Temperatura series, the projections are recorded scenes from Catholic practices—Palm Sunday or Palaspas, the Mater Dolorosa, and a scene of children practicing Christmas carols.  Thermal imagery is often applied in society for security and surveillance, detection of disease, firefighting, and other industrial uses. In his work, Montelibano explores the psychology of contemporary socio-political, economic, and religious structures, relating them to the subtleties and intricacies of practiced traditions. By recording thermal image during a single event, the artist examines how its energy magnifies for the total impact of all traditional events happening simultaneously around the world.

Guenivere Decena’s participation in the collaborative mural was a depiction of Diwata, a Philippine mythological goddess who is known to have woven the history of the people. She is portrayed carrying a boat filled with her people, as if protecting them as they travel the seas. For Diri Man Ni, Decena instead makes monochromatic paintings on shaped canvases, rounded to represent portals. Through these portals, surreal compositions consist of a pair of hands, decks of cards swirling beneath them, with a human figure moving within. It is a sublimation of imagery that allows the viewer to feel sucked in. Decena plays with the idea of the portal as a space one’s mind can enter, linking not just physical places, but also intangible thoughts, emotions, and memories that merge different worlds. “No matter where we look, and no matter how far away, we are all the time looking within. When we focus on a vision, we are just clarifying our inner state and intentions. Between distance and reality is not a vision but a choice.”

Installed between the round canvases is a triangular sculpture with drawings of portals. The drawings are charcoal markings made on the opposite side of canvas; its purpose is to absorb light. The inside of this triangular space, one can see two perspectives at once with no singular entrance or exit. Altogether, the triptych represents the mental transformation that occurs by travelling to the opposite side of the world. Cards falling in a wave pattern signify the act of letting go and being fearless in the face of chaos and unpredictability in the times we live in.

Junjun Montelibano restages his light and sound work The Light That Never Goes Out. Projected is the abstracted image of a flickering candle, its flame moving in response to the solemn sounds of ringing church bells and the deafening roar of weapons of war. The work is a symbol of hope, in the spark of humanity that cannot be extinguished. For Diri Man Ni, Montelibano installs a single-person church kneeler in front of the video, from which position it is to be viewed. He added broken concrete blocks on the floor to simulate war-demolished structures.

R.A. Tijing’s painting in Germany is that of his recurring character Bambam Black Sheep riding a tram by the seaside. The cold weather had affected his mood and his energy, and he had missed the cheerful tropics. Ironically, upon his return to the Philippines, Tijing found himself influenced by the paintings in German museums. He returned to oil paint, a medium that he realized is capable of more nuanced expression and greater depth of emotion. Instead of his oft-used bright, tropical palette, he shifted to more muted greys and browns. In his painting, he depicts the Orange Project artists standing as a group with himself front and center, huddled together in the cold. They are set in the town plaza, a place where they would go daily to catch the tram or shop at the market. In a smaller painting, Tijing depicts himself atop a weighing scale, a practice they all did because of the shift to a higher quality diet. Despite the cold and challenges, it is these moments of togetherness that kept him warm.

Erika Mayo scavenged an abandoned recreational park in Leipzig where she salvaged curtains from an empty RV trailer. These curtains hold traces of the maternal figures who used to live there. Using the curtain material, she sewed a traditional Filipina dress, onto which she projected internet videos of meme culture. By combing both elements, Mayo portrays the Filipina of today as a co-mingling of Maria Clara values and current pop culture. While growing up, Mayo was taught that her goal should be to date a white man so that she could move abroad and better her life. Such advice highly affected her self-esteem. Later she realized how outdated attitudes minimize the potential of women and limit their opportunities. The work is a response to having reached Germany in her own unconventional way: as an artist. The journey encouraged her to try new things in her art, temporarily abandoning painting for installation.

Like Tijing, Mayo’s work for Diri Man Ni is a departure from her typical subject, medium and color palette. In direct opposite of Tijing, Mayo also switched medium, but from her usual oil paints to acrylics, manipulating its texture to appear like oil. She painted a scene from one of her walks along a snow-filled park in Leipzig. The trees are leafless, their branches heavy with snow. At the center of the path are a carabao and its child, both depicted in red, representing the Filipino team’s passion and boldness. If their goal in Germany was to bring them our tropical warmth, her goal here is to likewise bring Germany as relief to a relentlessly hot summer— the cold weather, and the silence and isolation that she appreciated when she found herself back in her noisy hometown. The only element that recurs in this painting from previous works is the presence of the carabao, a noble and quietly majestic beast. Mayo included a second smaller painting that zooms in to the carabao’s eye, as if the creature were confronting the viewer and questioning his presence.

Charlie Co conceived of a figure that questions, “Why are we here?” Nearby Leipzig, the wars in the Ukraine and Gaza raged. Global tensions have a caused a very dangerous environment for his family of artists. His white sculpture of a Pinocchio businessman is holding both a globe and a match, highlighting the vulnerability their group has placed themselves in by travelling for the project. On the globe sits a clock counting down to the world’s end. Pinocchio’s nose is exaggeratedly extended, symbolizing broken promises and agreements unmet. He is standing on and sprinkled with snow. Beside him is the Orange Project dog and a suitcase with the words “Dream” and “Time”.

In Co’s painting, a central figure is a decorated military man holding a dog by its leash. The crowned dog is an iconic character in the Art District; it represents the Orange team, defiantly marking its territory. Behind them are figures making a handshake over paintings, a dark concealed figure signifying that it must be shady deal. Above them hovers a menacing green monster, and below them are victims of the Holocaust. Danger and treachery surround them, but to one side is the Chinese foo dog, protecting them all.

One of the works, deliberately intended as anonymous by the artist, is a battery-operated telephone that can make audio recordings. The artist poses a dozen questions that the audience is invited to choose from and answer. Through this interaction, the artist will listen to and collect these stories for a future sound art installation.

At the center of the gallery, wrapped around its central pillars is the black and white 83-foot long mural that the artists made prior to their departure to Germany.  They worked on it when their German principals came to visit, demonstrating their process of working without a study, organically completing the piece as an aesthetically unified whole. While they made a more colorful mural in Germany, it is the one left behind that marked the start of their journey.

Ultimately, each of the eleven artists answer the same existential question, “Why are we here?” The show’s title Diri Man Ni (translated as Dito Lang Tayo) points not only to the journey, but more importantly to the homecoming. After all, here is where it all started.

By Stephanie Frondoso