Wish you were here

Saturday, November 15, 2008

REMEMBERING YOU

A few years back, a nephew couldn't wait to finish high school so he could go on to college; not to pursue a particular degree to set him up for a worthwhile career, but to be in the environment full of kolehiyalas. But alas! When he finally entered college life this year, he proved more of a torpe than a swain. As for the cause of his changed demeanor, he bragged about a goal to focus on his studies, of course; earning for himself in the process multiple pogi points from his approving parents.

Based on discussions with fellow Pinoys both here and abroad, I can safely assume that a great majority has a kolehiyala playing a prominent role in their fond memories of college life -- either as a girlfriend or someone idolized from afar. Same goes for the coed: I bet they had a particular college guy (kolehiyelo?) in mind as a suitor; that is, if they weren't already entangled with one.

Be that as it may, I came across an old tune by Michael Franks which may be a perfect soundtrack during such moments of reminiscing:

* * *

Please note:
I very much appreciate my articles and photos appearing on fellow bloggers' sites, popular broadsheets, and local broadcast news segments, but I would appreciate even more a request for permission first.
Thank you!

*

Visit: MANILA PHOTOJOURNALISM


*

Labels: Growing up memoirs, music

posted by Señor Enrique at 6:53 AM | 21 comments

Saturday, October 11, 2008

A VISIT NOT SO FABULOUS FOR THE FAB FOUR

Out of all the photographs I had taken of the Manila Yacht Club, this has got to be my favorite. It was once selected as Photo of the Week by the editors of Manila Bulletin's Picture Perfect section.

I have never in my life gone inside the Manila Yacht Club, but there's one striking memory I treasure from when I was a kid in which it played a prominent role. This happened one Saturday, the 3rd of July, 1966, when the Beatles arrived in Manila.

Their handlers' plan was to fly them by helicopter from Manila International Airport to a waiting yacht owned by Manolo Elizalde docked at Manila Bay. However, should the crowd of fans were to be less-frenzied and manageable, as compared to those in other cities which the Beatles had visited, a likely option called for a typical motorcade, as afforded to visiting heads of state. This way, many local folks would get a glimpse of the Fab Four as they headed from the airport to their awaiting yacht. I intensely prayed for the latter.

Besides the anticipated presence of riotous and hysterical fans that usually crowded the Beatles' live performances, the cost of buying tickets for the entire family to see their concert at Rizal Stadium proved prohibitive for my father. Neither did he have the heart to merely pick and choose only a couple to see the concert, for everyone was stricken with Beatlemania, including the household help. So the decision was for everyone to stay home. And that was that.

After many years of growing up in a household with a soundtrack from other family members' record collections -- a repertoire that consisted of a steady stream from my father's favored jazz artists and big bands to my older siblings' mushy and rocking hits of the '50s -- the Beatles' music I claimed as truly my very own. Darn, even my vocal range, pitch and enunciation matched perfectly that of Lennon's and McCartney's. Spurred by childhood dreams of grandeur, I was truly under the impression that I could be a potential fifth Beatle. Hence, under such compelling illusion, no one could possibly thwart my determination to see the Beatles in person, in one way or another.

Prior to their weekend arrival, a Manila Times article highlighted the upcoming visit replete with a map of their motorcade route from the airport to the Manila Yacht Club. Needless to say, that article inspired me to hatch a plan unbeknownst to all, except for my sister Inday and four more childhood friends who range in age from 11 to 15 (I was to celebrate my fourteenth birthday the following week).

On that momentous Saturday, the 3rd of July, 1966, all dressed up as if headed to a children's party, we got on a cab on Avenida Rizal that took us to Dewey Boulevard and Quirino Avenue. According to the motorcade route as illustrated by the Manila Times article, this was where the cars heading north from the airport would have to make a u-turn if they wanted to go to the yacht club. Hunch told me the motorcade had to slow down to a crawl in order to accomplish such maneuver; thus, this would be the ideal ground for us to claim.

There was a lot of traffic on that Saturday afternoon and when we finally reached our destination -- at the service road that paralleled the boulevard near corner Quirino -- the motorcade with the white Cadillac limousine (obviously with the Beatles in it) were fast approaching; only a hundred or so meters from the u-turn. After silently offering a prayer of appreciation -- that the Beatles weren't flown by a helicopter instead -- we all jumped out of that taxi like a bunch of thoroughbreds bolting out of the starting gate; racing over to the boulevard as if our lives depended on it. Years of playing 'tag' and tumbang preso certainly gave our legs the much needed sprinting power.

And as it in lockstep, as we neared that particular u-turn junction, the white Cadillac also began to decelerate. For a few precious seconds, Ringo, John, Paul and George were all within our arms' reach. As evidenced by the wide smiles on theirs faces, they were all apparently enthralled by the sight of our group of nicely-dressed kids running alongside their limousine while screaming out their names.

John Lennon removed the shades that covered his eyes, and his seemingly heartfelt smile and enthusiastic waving hand made my knees and legs suddenly felt rubbery. As the white limousine completed it's u-turn on its way to the yacht club, we headed for the grassy ground along the boulevard where I fell, tripping everyone else behind me in the process. We remained laying on the grass for a few minutes before we slowly got up to brush ourselves off and get back to the taxi waiting for us. The cab driver patted our backs; very much delighted that we all had seen the Beatles in person and up close.

We had the cab driver drop us off at the same spot where he had picked us up -- on Avenida Rizal, a safe and far enough distance from our house. I paid him with the money that I've managed to save the past few months. We then headed to Manong's sari-sari store where I treated everyone to a bottle of Cosmos sarsaparilla and hopiang hapon. Afterwards, Mang Fermin came by and we all enjoyed a cone of dirty ice cream as well. Everyone was rather giddy while discussing in hushed tones what we had experienced earlier that afternoon. Everyone promised to keep it as our very own secret.

When we all went home, my sister Inday and I found our father alone in the downstairs living room reading the newspaper. After pressing his hand on our foreheads, my sister raced upstairs while I sat next to my father. He asked how the birthday party was. I told him the truth: I said it was my upcoming birthday that we celebrated. And that we took a cab to Dewey Boulevard to see the Beatles' motorcade. I was prepared to accept whatever punishment he thought appropriate for such roguish act. Instead he just calmly told me not to mention what we had done to anyone else, especially to my mother. Unlike my sister who had immediately gone upstairs when we got home, I chose to remain sitting on the sofa next to my father, lost in thought. For some strange reason, I was feeling that my childhood, my age of wonder, was finally coming to an end.

I was aroused from my pensive mood only when my brother Pepsi came down and turned on the radio. The top ten program he tuned into was playing the Beatles' Paperback Writer. After the song was finished, I went upstairs to change my clothes.

The Beatles' concert performances in Manila during that weekend set a record-breaking phenomenon in terms of attendance. Some estimates placed the figure as high as 50,000 for each performance. Regrettably, what could have been a historic musical event soon got marred by 'political' controversy.

Supposedly, a miscommunication between their local promoters and manager, Brian Epstein, resulted to Imelda and her friends getting insulted by the Beatles' nonappearance at a Palace reception. Consequently, incited by the Marcos' media machine, Beatlemania turned into Beatlephobia. Hence, the Beatles, including their entire entourage, were roughed up at the airport as they were leaving Manila. Undoubtedly, it was a concert tour that proved less than fabulous for the famed Fab Four.

Nevertheless, what I deemed more unfortunate for the Beatles was the missed opportunity to enjoy a glorious Manila Bay sunset. At that time, since they may have already been experimenting with mind-altering substances such as LSD, God only knows what words and music might have come from Lennon and McCartney after enjoying a spectacular Manila Bay sunset. A more psychedelic tune than Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds, I bet.

* * *

Please note:
I very much appreciate my articles and photos appearing on fellow bloggers' sites, popular broadsheets, and local broadcast news segments, but I would appreciate even more a request for permission first.
Thank you!

Labels: Beatles in Manila, Growing up memoirs, music

posted by Señor Enrique at 9:31 AM | 50 comments

Thursday, September 18, 2008

GIRL STANDS TALL

Labels: music, photography

posted by Señor Enrique at 2:47 AM | 24 comments

Wednesday, July 09, 2008

FRIENDS ON-BOARD A JEEPNEY IN QUIAPO

Labels: music, photography, Quiapo

posted by Señor Enrique at 8:17 AM | 10 comments

Thursday, September 14, 2006

BIRTH OF JAZZ IN THE PHILIPPINES

On August of 1898, as a measure to suppress the brewing discontent of the Filipinos, the U.S. Secretary of War, Elibu Root, ordered the transfer of American military troops to the Philippine archipelago. Part of this contingent who arrived in Manila were four Negroes — David Fagan, Lester Strongman, Paul Broduck and Waller Colts. Subsequently, having had enough of the racial insults constantly thrown at them by their fellow soldiers who were white, they deserted their ranks and sought refuge at Aguinaldo’s camp. These colored soldiers were then made members of the Filipino revolutionary forces as conscripts.

And during times of leisure, they introduced their Filipino counterparts to their own kind of music — blues and gospel — though still taking shape in the States at that time. These early American contemporary music became the backbone to what would eventually transpire as jazz.

This historical piece was part of Artemio Agnes’ story as featured in the book, Pinoy Jazz Traditions by Richie Quirino. I came across it when searching for listings of foreign musicians who performed in the Philippines after WWII; trying to figure out what concert performances my parents might have gone to during that time. My mother is not one to remember every name of foreign musician she saw with my father at Manila Hotel, Manila Opera House, or other clubs in the city from that period up to the sixties so I have to do some digging on my own.

Also mentioned in this book was the development of a particular style of jazz that was becoming popular in America in the early ‘40s, which found its way to Manila during the liberation. It was called bebop.

Supposedly, "bebop is a word which mirrored, onomatopoetically, the vocalization of the then best-loved interval of the music: the flatted fifth. The term ‘bebop’ came into being spontaneously when someone attempted to sing these melodic leaps.” In the next ten years, the flatted fifth had become a blue note, as common as the open thirds and sevenths familiar to the blues.

But Richie Quirino claimed “the characteristic sound of bebop seemed to be racing and full of nervous phrasing, frenzied and angry. Everything that was obvious was excluded. Most if not all the bebop jazz musicians of that era were addicted to alcohol and drugs. This was a way of deadening their senses and shutting out the realities of a world involved in struggles over power and dominance. As musicians are lovers of peace, bebop was an expression of their frustration and inner turmoil.” And there were many Filipino musicians eagerly learning and adopting this new kind of music into their respective jazz repertoire.

The liberation, among other things, brought with it a euphoric sense of festive mood, which made jazz synonymous with a celebration of victory. With thousands of entertainment-hungry GI’s roaming Manila, the local big bands found themselves heavily in demand.

But even before the liberation period, Filipino bands were playing jazz not only locally, but in Shanghai, Hong Kong, Singapore and Tokyo, as well as in oceangoing vessels plying the Pacific route. Notably, the '20s were known as the Jazz Age, the '30s and '40s were the Swing era. And just as band leaders Count Basie, Xavier Cougat, Duke Ellington and Benny Goodman were stars in America, Pinoy jazz had its own stars like Pete Aristorenas, Tirso Cruz, the Mesio Regalado Orchestra, the Shanghai Swing Masters and the Mabuhay Band.

My mother’s sister’s husband, Simeon de Luna, played clarinet for Tirso Cruz. Unfortunately, he wasn’t a big enough name to make it on Richie Quirino’s book, Pinoy Jazz Tradition, which also contains 100 rare photographs, poems and artworks; a must read for jazz lovers. It is available at all popular bookstores.

Labels: jazz, music, Philippine history

posted by Señor Enrique at 6:14 AM | 24 comments

Wednesday, September 13, 2006

THE PHILIPPINE PHILHARMONIC ORCHESTRA

It was after seeing the Lincoln Center in New York City that Imelda Marcos had the vision for a similar cultural and arts center to be built in Manila, which was soon erected on reclaimed land in Manila Bay and designed by famed Filipino architect, Leandro Locsin.

The Tanghalang Pambansa, more commonly known as the CCP Main Building, houses four theaters — a museum of ethnographic exhibits and a changing exhibit of Philippine art or ethnography, galleries, and a library on Philippine art and culture. It also houses the administrative offices and facilities of the CCP. Security personnel at the main building strictly enforce a no picture taking rule; therefore, I’m unable to provide a photo exhibit of the incredible interior of this venue.

There are so many performances going on here, but the one which attracts me the most is by The Philippine Philharmonic Orchestra; formally inaugurated on May 15, 1973 as the CCP Philharmonic Orchestra, initially intended to assist artists performing at the CCP Theater. In 1979, Imelda Marcos commissioned Prof. Oscar C. Yatco to reorganize it.

Three years later, the Philippine Philharmonic Orchestra was reborn as a world-class orchestra ranked among the best in the world. Under Music Director Eugene Castillo and Resident Conductor Cecinio Ronquillo, the PPO has consistently kept a busy concert schedule each year.

Its next performance at CCP will be “Noble Visions,” on October 13th, Friday at 8:00 pm. It features Najib Ismail on piano; Eugene Castillo will be conducting. However, the music they intend to perform has not been announced, yet. Tickets are from P350 to P900, which are incredibly cheap for a world class philharmonic orchestra performance.

Now, I am not nor have ever been an aficionado of classical music in a strict sense, but have always enjoyed listening to it whenever possible. What my friends and I often did in New York when young was buy the cheapest tickets at Lincoln Center or Carnegie Hall just to enjoy an afternoon or evening of orchestral music, which is, unarguably, great for the soul. Going to these classical concerts were in conjunction with the almost weekly rock concerts we used to attend at Howard Stern's Palladium in downtown Manhattan. I should also mention that my appreciation for orchestral music began when I watched those Warner Bros. cartoons on TV every afternoon when I was a kid.

Incidentally, there are about six art galleries within the main CCP building. One may go there early and view the current exhibits and installations, and then later on enjoy the philharmonic performance. For inquiries call the Museum and Visual Arts Division at 832-1125 local 1504/1505.

The telephone number for the Philippine Philharmonic Orchestra is 832-1125 local 1608-1610.

Labels: CCP Complex, life in Manila, Local culture, music

posted by Señor Enrique at 6:39 AM | 18 comments

Thursday, August 03, 2006

ALONE AND LONELY

Rey's post about his appreciation for country music reminded me of a repartee I once had with Melai on the subject of loneliness.

Told her in jest how the American country music genre has notoriously earned the dubious distinction of being habitually morose if not outright sorrowful.

And that most of the stories they depict are laden with multiple subplots of nothing but a life of sheer agony (e.g., a dog was hit by a truck while running after his master’s car on his way to a funeral of a friend who got shot while in a drunken stupor at a bar after his wife ran off with another guy whose wife recently died of breast cancer).

This was a joke, of course, to make Melai laugh and perhaps, make her snap out of feeling melancholy. But then again, just recently while listening to the radio, the song that came on reminded me that not only country music but pop as well has hit songs romanticizing a wretched happenstance.

Take for example this miserable song (but a big hit no less, staying as number one on the charts for six straight weeks) which opens with a young man’s deliberation to commit suicide by jumping off a tower after his fiancé stood him up at the altar — while the cold-hearted attendees were quick to decide on going home without so much thinking of keeping the poor guy company. The incident also left the young man questioning the existence of God; if not outright blaming Him for his pitiable life. This, in turn, led him to conclude that the whole world has more broken hearts than realized. And the song’s final verse reveals the young man’s dysfunctional family whose father died and left his mother unable to deal with it. Whoa!

Do you remember this song? Can you fill-n the blanks? Here are its lyrics:

In a little while from now,
If I'm not feeling any less sour
I promised myself to treat myself
And visit a nearby tower,
And climbing to the top,
Will throw myself off
In an effort to make it clear to whoever
What it's like when your shattered
Left standing in the lurch, at a church
Where people 're saying,
"My God that's tough, she stood him up!
No point in us remaining.
May as well go home."
As I did on my own,
_____ ____, _________

To think that only yesterday,
I was cheerful, bright and gay,
Looking forward to, but who wouldn't do,
The role I was about to play
But as if to knock me down,
Reality came around
And without so much as a mere touch,
Cut me into little pieces
Leaving me to doubt,
All about God and His mercy
For if He really does exist
Why did He desert me
In my hour of need?I truly am indeed,
_____ ____, _________

It seems to me that
There are more hearts
Broken in the world
That can't be mended
Left unattended
What do we do?
What do we do?

(instrumental break)

Now looking back over the years,
And what ever else that appears
I remember I cried when my father died
Never wishing to have cried the tears
And at sixty-five years old,
My mother, God rest her soul,
Couldn't understand, why the only man
She had ever loved had been taken
Leaving her to start with a heart
So badly broken
Despite encouragement from me
No words were ever spoken
And when she passed away
I cried and cried all day
_____ ____, _________
_____ ____, _________

(end)

If too young to remember it, click here for title.

Recently, Neil featured a pop song, though it has a catchy dance beat, the lyrics are just so sad?

Maybe it’s time to listen to some happy tunes by Abba?

Labels: music

posted by Señor Enrique at 9:01 AM | 23 comments

Sunday, June 25, 2006

SONGWRITING 101

A friend inquired about my current favorite OPM or original Pilipino Music, in which I replied Ako’y Sayo by First Circle (click on the title of the song to hear its streaming version, as well as for its complete lyrics).

First time I heard it, I was reminded of a songwriting workshop I took one summer in New York. The instructor was Sheila Davis, author of the book, The Craft of Lyric Writing. This song, Ako’y Sayo truly exemplifies her mantra, which is essentially all about clarity and specificity.

Moreover, Sheila argued that to hook the audience into listening to your entire song, the first verse of it alone should immediately depict the who, what and where elements — as in the following example:

Ikaw na ang may sabi, na ako'y mahal mo rin
At sinabi mo ang pag-ibig mo'y di magbabago
Ngunit bakit sa tuwing ako'y lumalapit ika'y lumalayo?
Puso'y laging nasasaktan pag may kasama kang iba

Accordingly, the first verse reveals the characters as two lovers. And although they've already once expressed their love for one another, the girl somehow seems mysteriously elusive. Interestingly, mentioning this conflict early in the story further holds the listener into sticking around to hear the rest of this lonesome tale.

Sheila also encouraged her students to make use of alliteration other than the usual rhyming of the final syllables. This is supposedly to add spice or avoid redundancy and predictability to the overall structure of your song — as in this fourth verse:

At kung di ka makita, makikiusap ka'y bathala
Na ika'y hanapin at sabihin ipaalala sa iyo
Ang nakalimutang sumpaan
Na ako'y sa 'yo at ika'y akin lamang

And most important of all, and here’s the clincher, the overall cadence of your lyrics should reflect the melody. Hence in the following line:

Ikaw na ang may sabi, na ako'y mahal mo rin

If it were to be spoken, you'll notice that its cadence does not stray too far from that of the melody; thus, a pure blending of the lyrics with the melody; making it naturally easy to sing, as well as sonically more pleasing.

This should also explain — when Paul McCartney had the melody but not yet the lyrics and title for the Beatle song, Yesterday — why he used ham and eggs for the tune's first line.

Labels: music

posted by Señor Enrique at 9:46 AM | 12 comments

Wednesday, March 01, 2006

SPENDING THE NIGHT TOGETHER IN SHANGHAI

Convinced that the ‘60s bad boys of rock are no longer able to pollute the spiritual consciousness of the country’s young, China’s culture commissars finally allowed The Rolling Stones their mainland debut concert in Shanghai this coming April 8th.

The Stones had once planned to perform in China in 2003, but cancelled due to the SARS scare. Back then, according to Reuters, China’s Ministry of Culture told the band it could not perform four songs -- "Let's Spend the Night Together," "Brown Sugar," "Honky Tonk Women" and "Beast of Burden."

Although no specific reasons were given, it was assumed those songs’ sexually explicit lyrics were the culprit; highly likely, the group will neither play those songs at the upcoming concert so as not to offend the Chinese government.

According to Emma Entertainment, which handles the ticket sales for the British rockers' Shanghai Grand Stage performance, prices will set you back between $37 and $373.

On a side note: I saw the Stones once in Madison Square Garden; Stevie Wonder opened the show. The promoters asked the fans to mail in—as many as they wished—a postcard with his name, address and phone number listed on it. If you were lucky enough to have yours picked out, you get the chance to purchase two tickets. This was done to prevent a bunch of kids from camping out on the grounds of Madison Garden days before the tickets went on sale. I forgot how much I paid for the tickets.

Labels: Featured artist, music

posted by Señor Enrique at 8:05 AM | 0 comments

Life in Manila as observed by a former New Yorker who with a laptop and camera has reinvented himself as a storyteller. Winner of the PHILIPPINE BLOG AWARDS: Best Photo Blog in 2007 and three Best Single Post awards in 2008.

 

Designed by The Dubai Chronicles.
All rights and lefts reserved.