Hi, Unlce Rommel.
It’s nice to hear (or in this case, read) from you again. Just to bring you up to speed, I am currently working for an NGO catering to street kids. I develop, implement and manage programs to help prepare street kids for eventual social reintegration. This means either providing them with formal and informal education, or helping them find jobs. We hope to help street children develop into responsible, self-reliant and productive adults. But enough of the brochure-inspired spiel.
On the side, I still do a few writing gigs for extra cash and if time permits, work on my unfinished fiction at a relaxed (and perhaps, I admit, too leisurely) pace. Someday, I will earn my sabbatical and take one full year of leave to finally sit down and have my collection of short fiction finished (although I am not heavily banking on this). But for now, I must engage in the more mundane affair of earning a living.
How’s the M.A. going, by the way? Still weary of instructing your professors, I assume?
I very much appreciate that you sent me a copy of your papers. On what occasions were these talks delivered? The familiar firebrand tone is evident and I can palpably feel your unrelenting passion for genuine Filipino architecture and all the aspects related to architectural criticism. Such conviction I am proud to share not only due to blood relations but as a kindred spirit in the ways of viewing certain things beyond their initial appearances.
I am not of course in a credible and objective position to make commentaries about the topics discussed related to your chosen profession. However, I may be able to provide criticisms on several arguments that you’ve raised in terms of how practicable architecture is to a typical Filipino. Please indulge me on a few points.
In “Architecture and Cultural Sustainability,” you mention the erosion of Philippine Architectural culture but failed to identify what actually makes it distinct. Lest I mistake the fluff for empty nostalgia or hopeless idyllic romanticism, you did not exactly state what comprises “genuine” Filipino architecture to begin with. Should the proverbial image of the bahay kubo be my point of reference? Probably not. I assume the talks were given in front of an audience of architects and design connoisseurs but preaching to the converted would only make the exercise extraneous.
Our similarities are our curse and we both have an unquenchable thirst for knowledge. I for one would have been curious to find out what “Filipino architecture” really is. Having educated me about it would have benefited me profusely. There was a cursory allusion to mass housing design being unfit for human habitation, as well as an obligatory jab against bureaucratic corruption, but not much else. A counter-establishment does not exist without the rarefied institutions we would like to subvert, similar to counter-cultures being inspired by prevailing, bankrupt ones.
Relatedly, you argue that the Bali architecture invasion has slowly usurped our native architecture and its necessarily implied culture but did not specifically state how and why. You mount an attack against the Red Kites but cut the strings short by leading the reader aimlessly in a torrent of alta de ciudad inanities and delectable fast food menus. Yet in the end I fail to grasp what caused Bali designs to be so demonized and detestable that we should avoid it like the plague.
Forgive me if my remarks seem a bit scathing but again this is merely born out of a genuine interest in knowing more about the topics you’ve discussed. Your analysis, as always, is correct but unfortunately lacked the examples that would have served as veritable nails to the coffin.
Mass housing, devoid of all its bureaucratic trappings, can arguably be a rational option given spatial requirements and one’s current purchasing power. It is sad that at this point, typical working Filipinos will not appreciate architecture and culture on a level that would sincerely appeal to their sensibilities. Filipinos have become too dehumanized to the point that nothing else matters except surviving from one pay check to the next. Would it then be too unforgivable that after nine hours of soulless toiling we fail to pause for just an instant to breathe in and appreciate the finer aspects of the structures surrounding us?
You will have to agree that utility, although indicative of valid priorities, is never a result of legitimate prerogatives. Thus, a bungalow works for my current purposes but given a choice, I would rather settle for something more spacious and with better ventilation. We however are not provided with such a choice.
I find the debates about population control and reproductive health to be both timely and relevant to this discussion. My principles are clear and unbendable concerning the supposed inalienability of women’s reproductive choice since it primarily concerns their health and well-being not as much as men’s. But the question of population is a slightly different matter. I think that all things being equal, a rise in population should never be a national problem. Ideally, the more people we have, the larger our workforce. Imagine such a high per capita being pooled into production and positively contributing to the economy!
The problem is the economy can’t absorb this number, which is basically why we have a high rate of unemployment. Population per se is not the problem. If figures are to be our sole indicator, Japan outnumbers us by the millions. But population has never been Japan’s concern, at least not as desperately as ours, because their economy can accommodate the emergent labor force. To my mind, the root of the population problem (and even of the architectural bankruptcy) in the country is social injustice. If all the basic needs are adequately addressed, perhaps only then can we move on to other niceties such as the Arts.▼
It’s nice to hear (or in this case, read) from you again. Just to bring you up to speed, I am currently working for an NGO catering to street kids. I develop, implement and manage programs to help prepare street kids for eventual social reintegration. This means either providing them with formal and informal education, or helping them find jobs. We hope to help street children develop into responsible, self-reliant and productive adults. But enough of the brochure-inspired spiel.
On the side, I still do a few writing gigs for extra cash and if time permits, work on my unfinished fiction at a relaxed (and perhaps, I admit, too leisurely) pace. Someday, I will earn my sabbatical and take one full year of leave to finally sit down and have my collection of short fiction finished (although I am not heavily banking on this). But for now, I must engage in the more mundane affair of earning a living.
How’s the M.A. going, by the way? Still weary of instructing your professors, I assume?
I very much appreciate that you sent me a copy of your papers. On what occasions were these talks delivered? The familiar firebrand tone is evident and I can palpably feel your unrelenting passion for genuine Filipino architecture and all the aspects related to architectural criticism. Such conviction I am proud to share not only due to blood relations but as a kindred spirit in the ways of viewing certain things beyond their initial appearances.
I am not of course in a credible and objective position to make commentaries about the topics discussed related to your chosen profession. However, I may be able to provide criticisms on several arguments that you’ve raised in terms of how practicable architecture is to a typical Filipino. Please indulge me on a few points.
In “Architecture and Cultural Sustainability,” you mention the erosion of Philippine Architectural culture but failed to identify what actually makes it distinct. Lest I mistake the fluff for empty nostalgia or hopeless idyllic romanticism, you did not exactly state what comprises “genuine” Filipino architecture to begin with. Should the proverbial image of the bahay kubo be my point of reference? Probably not. I assume the talks were given in front of an audience of architects and design connoisseurs but preaching to the converted would only make the exercise extraneous.
Our similarities are our curse and we both have an unquenchable thirst for knowledge. I for one would have been curious to find out what “Filipino architecture” really is. Having educated me about it would have benefited me profusely. There was a cursory allusion to mass housing design being unfit for human habitation, as well as an obligatory jab against bureaucratic corruption, but not much else. A counter-establishment does not exist without the rarefied institutions we would like to subvert, similar to counter-cultures being inspired by prevailing, bankrupt ones.
Relatedly, you argue that the Bali architecture invasion has slowly usurped our native architecture and its necessarily implied culture but did not specifically state how and why. You mount an attack against the Red Kites but cut the strings short by leading the reader aimlessly in a torrent of alta de ciudad inanities and delectable fast food menus. Yet in the end I fail to grasp what caused Bali designs to be so demonized and detestable that we should avoid it like the plague.
Forgive me if my remarks seem a bit scathing but again this is merely born out of a genuine interest in knowing more about the topics you’ve discussed. Your analysis, as always, is correct but unfortunately lacked the examples that would have served as veritable nails to the coffin.
Mass housing, devoid of all its bureaucratic trappings, can arguably be a rational option given spatial requirements and one’s current purchasing power. It is sad that at this point, typical working Filipinos will not appreciate architecture and culture on a level that would sincerely appeal to their sensibilities. Filipinos have become too dehumanized to the point that nothing else matters except surviving from one pay check to the next. Would it then be too unforgivable that after nine hours of soulless toiling we fail to pause for just an instant to breathe in and appreciate the finer aspects of the structures surrounding us?
You will have to agree that utility, although indicative of valid priorities, is never a result of legitimate prerogatives. Thus, a bungalow works for my current purposes but given a choice, I would rather settle for something more spacious and with better ventilation. We however are not provided with such a choice.
I find the debates about population control and reproductive health to be both timely and relevant to this discussion. My principles are clear and unbendable concerning the supposed inalienability of women’s reproductive choice since it primarily concerns their health and well-being not as much as men’s. But the question of population is a slightly different matter. I think that all things being equal, a rise in population should never be a national problem. Ideally, the more people we have, the larger our workforce. Imagine such a high per capita being pooled into production and positively contributing to the economy!
The problem is the economy can’t absorb this number, which is basically why we have a high rate of unemployment. Population per se is not the problem. If figures are to be our sole indicator, Japan outnumbers us by the millions. But population has never been Japan’s concern, at least not as desperately as ours, because their economy can accommodate the emergent labor force. To my mind, the root of the population problem (and even of the architectural bankruptcy) in the country is social injustice. If all the basic needs are adequately addressed, perhaps only then can we move on to other niceties such as the Arts.▼
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