When I say Cherie Gil, I bet you think, "You're nothing but a second-rate, trying hard, copycat!"  Furthermore, you imagine the abrupt tipping of the wine glass, and Sharon Cuneta's sodden, miserable face in Butuing Walang Ningning.

          Maria Callas, on the other hand, is a reference that's a little more obscure to the younger set, unless you were weaned on opera, like some children are--part of that old belief that all things classical transmutes babies into geniuses ready to stride out of the womb.  I myself grew up in a heady cloud of musty old pop: The Cascades, Neil Sedaka, Nat King Cole, a little Abba.  Opera it was not.  The lucky fact that I even knew a little about Maria Callas stems from mundane dinner conversation, many years ago.  Like most interesting factoids, it was laced with a little scandal:  Maria Callas, the great soprano, had an affair with Aristotle Onassis.  And Onassis is another one of those sticky names that accrue labels: billionaire, shipping magnate, and of course, Jackie O's husband (As a side note though, Maria Callas came before, not after Jackie.  At a glance, it seems like the classic case of a rich old man trading up to a younger model, matrimony-wise.)

          It's all a bit sordid, I know, but the human mind seems to want to collect the worst details.  That and memorable movie lines.

          Of memorable lines, Maria Callas seems to have many attributed to her.  "When my enemies stop hissing, I shall know I'm slipping," refers to early hardships establishing her career as an artist in the--pardon the pun--cutthroat world of opera.  She was also quoted as saying that comparing her to Tebaldi--another soprano, and supposedly her rival at the time-- was a travesty, like comparing champagne to Coca Cola. 

          If I may say so...Ang taray!  =)

          I mean "Ang taray" in the best possible way, of course.  But she does look a bit fierce, don't you think? 

         Fabulous, no doubt, but almost untouchable, a diva even in pictures.  Of course, Cherie Gil also has that glorious diva aura about her, a certain steel-rod-down-the-spine quality that one cannot help but respect and even fear, just a little bit.

          In a masterful stroke, the universe has conspired to bring these two characters together in a play, the ultimate meet-cute.  Cherie Gil plays Maria Callas who, in delirious monologues, is at turns Aristotle Onassis and Giovanni Meneghini (Callas's first husband) as well.  It is all deliciously complicated, and scandalous, and brilliantly feathered, as only a true diva's life can be.



           A brief backgrounder: The play is set in Juilliard, where Callas taught a master class in opera from 1971 to '72.  Aristotle Onassis had just wed Jackie O, leaving Maria Callas just as she had finally severed her marriage to Meneghini.  It is tragic all around.  In the ultimate ironic twist, shortly after the wedding, Callas got cast as Medea, that archetype of the "woman scorned."  Jason of the Argonauts too had traded up.  More's the pity.

           But that's not what the story is about, not really.  It is the tapestry which colors the scene, but it is not the scene itself.  The story is about art.  And life.  Discipline.  Devotion.  High drama.  Fire.  Gumption.  And above all, how to sing: the sweet desperation, the total loss of self to the character, the whole out-of-body experience.


      Cherie Gil seems to have an out-of-body experience herself, fully inhabiting the role of the humorous but deadly sharp teacher, one of that rare breed whom you either love or hate as a student, but whom you never forget.  The suspension of disbelief is complete: at a glare from those serpentine eyes, you sit a little bit straighter, listen a bit more attentively.  She will not repeat herself twice.  And no applause please.  There is work to be done.

The Callas in Master Class is full of aphorisms: 

     "To be remembered, you've got to have a look." 

     "Art is domination." 

     "Vowels are the inarticulate sounds of the heart.  In consonants lie the meaning." 

     To a student wearing a short skirt, "The public that looks at you from down there sees a little more of you than you might want." 

     Chiding a student for not bringing a pencil to make notes with:  "At the conservatory Madame de Hidalgo never once had to ask me if I had a pencil. And this was during the war, when a pencil wasn't something you just picked up at the five and ten. Oh no, no, no, no. A pencil meant something. It was a choice over something else. You either had a pencil or an orange. I always had a pencil. I never had an orange. And I love oranges. I knew one day I would have all the oranges I could want, but that didn't make the wanting them any less."

      Everything is a pronouncement, delivered to the point, and weighty as holy writ.

* * *

         Of course, there is that matter of historical correctness: Was this really what Maria Callas was like?  General consensus seems to be that McNally did take some liberties with the characterization of Callas.  For one, according to accounts, she was not as acerbic as the character in Master Class was.  Also, of the quotes above, only the one about the skirt is true.

         Makes me feel a bit sad, really.  I liked the character a lot (Brava to Cherie Gil for a brilliant and intense performance).

         Still, artifice is meant to highlight some greater truth.  In this case, I think it is that art as a higher calling can also be a ravenous pit to which you surrender yourself completely.  Most of the time, it is worth it.  Or is it really?

        Of Callas herself, who knows what happened?  She died of a heart attack, five years after her Juillard stint.  Who knows what she was really thinking?  That there are no definite answers means we are all free to draw our own conclusions.  The Callas in Master Class is ultimately tragic, plagued by demons of the past. Multiple comparisons are made to Medea the Jilted One. 

        The real-life Callas seemed cool as a cucumber here in her interview with a younger Barbara Walters.

           Muy elegante, no?

           There were also rumors that she was still seeing Aristotle Onassis even during his marriage to Jackie.  Another version, that one.

           Still, my favorite theory is that she got herself a younger boyfriend, ala Demi Moore.  Fanfare and racy scandal are necessary in an ending fitting for La Divina herself.  No tears shed over rich old men, please!

* * *

          Master Class will run at the Carlos P. Romulo Theater, RCBC Plaza on October 17, 18, 23, 24 and 25, 2008 at 8:00 p.m.

          For inquiries please call Philippine Opera Company at 892-8786 or log on to www.philippineoperacompany.com or TicketWorld

[Many thanks to Ms. Lorna Lopez, and Ms. Karla Gutierrez  of the Philippine Opera Company, for graciously inviting us to watch Master Class take shape]

Shall I caramelize sugar over aforementioned peach with my brand-new blowtorch?

The blowtorch was a present from one of my favorite people, crimson_parsley.  I'm currently thinking of other uses for it (aside from making the crispy sugar topping over creme brulee).  Off the bat, I can think of the following applications:

~ giving a smoker friend a light (not my favorite application, as smoking greatly increases lung cancer risk)
~crisping up chicken skin (not sure if this will work without burning)
~self defense and/or arson (very handy for the average woman's handbag! XD)
~general entertainment

I've been using the blowtorch mainly for the last purpose.  I'm not really in the mood to cook creme brulee for a household of health-conscious/diabetic family members.

(honestly, turning on the blowtorch just for kicks is really entertaining.)

* * *

Dare I hope that the Metro Manila Filmfest-nominated action movie Banal (as in holy, not "ordinary") is as good as I expect it to be? 

Banal
Directed by Cesar Apolinario
Preview: Two cops in a SWAT unit go up against each other over issues of integrity.

Banal is attempting to be a very gritty crime drama akin to last year's The Departed. It has a pretty complex plot that features betrayals, plenty of plot twists, and a plot to assassinate the Pope. It also has Christopher de Leon in it as a tough-as-nails Sergeant who leads the SWAT team. That may be worth the price of admission alone. Expect a scowling Christopher de Leon blowing stuff up.

Teaser: Cris (Paolo Contis) and Jason (Alfred Vargas) are two policemen with opposite personalities and philosophies - Cris is the epitome of the rare, near-extinct breed of honest cops; Jason is the the legman of his district's high officials, doing their dirty work for a price. BANAL explores the heretofore unseen side of police work, stabs at the unscrupulous behavior of the media and shows an uncompromising picture of Philippine society. In today's day and age, angels can become demons,and sinners can become saints

~
For the trailer, watch a movie or just go to youtube.  The trailer is pretty decent--not like the usual Pinoy trailer that gives you all of the plot or nothing at all.  Just try very hard to ignore the obviously CG explosion at the end, to sustain your suspension of disbelief.

I will definitely watch this movie.  If you've talked to me within the past couple of days, I've probably talked your ear off about it too.  Poor you.

(movie will be shown starting January 1.  Nood na!  Suportahan ang pelikulang Pilipino)

* * *

Happy holidays to every all!

(parang Goodah!  Pagkaing good for every all! Open 25 hours!)

    I was riding a jeepney the other day when I saw this old sticker that made me snicker (sticker, snicker, sticker snicker).  It said "God knows HUDAS not pay!" (hwekwekwekwekwek...) XD

    I know, I know, that line's pretty old.  An oldie but goodie though.  Which made me think of other jeepney literary classics.  For instance, have you noticed  that new type of jeepney poetry?  Like haikus, they're short and sweet, each line painted on a small wood plank.  Whole verses would hang from hooks on the ceiling behind the driver's and passenger's seats.  They swayed each time the jeep sped up or stopped.  Here's an example:

"Kunin mo ang  puso ko" -> that's on the first plank
"pati na ang katawan ko" -> this one on the second plank, which hangs from the first.
"huwag lang"
"ang kita ko"

    Again, hwekwekwekwek.  But isn't it amazing that a new poetry form could emerge from our humble jeepney?  Of course the topics are limited to sex, income, and nonpayers-being-thrown-into-the-flames-of-hell-until-the-end-of-time.  But what  could be more important? XD

    It's a cultural phenomenon, not limited to the jeepney.  We Filipinos are, as a rule, fond of witticisms.  We like collecting quotes, song lyrics, acronyms.  We hoard these in our minds, where they gather in the corners like dustballs.  Like, do you remember the country acronyms we used to use in letters and slumbooks back in grade school? Like ITALY (I trust and love you!), JAPAN (Just always pray at night!).  Heh.  Actually, those are the only ones I remember.  I didn't actually get into that whole bandwagon, just like i didn't get into the stationery and sticker collecting phase that everyone else seemed to go through.  But that's a whole other entry.

    Just recently crimson_parsley told me what PHILIPPINES meant.

    P -umping
    H -ot
    I
    L-ike
    I-t
    P -lease
    P -lease
    I
    N-eed
    E-rotic
    S-timulation!

    Heh.  No wonder I didn't know this in grade school.  Not GP at all.  =p

    And everyone seems to have their favorite quote.  Like that overused chestnut "It's better to have loved and lost...yada yada...".  Or "There's nothing to fear but fear itself."  Or, for the Noranians, "My brother is not a pig!"   (i prefer the porcine one myself)

    It's also pretty standard to ask for a person's favorite motto in noontime show beauty pageants and  (again) slumbooks.  "Time is gold," "a rolling stone gathers no moss," "a stitch in time saves nine," "ang batang mabait, napupunta sa langit," ad infinitum (and ad nauseum).  My own favorite answers to the "What is your favorite motto?" question came from an old beauty pageant in Eat Bulaga (i think it was called TeeVee babes).

     Vic Sotto: (asks contestant): What is your favorite motto?
    Contestant: Ajinomoto
(insert eternal embarrassment here)

and another one:
    Vic Sotto: (asks contestant): What is your favorite motto?
    Contestant:  Melanie Marquez.
(huwaaaat????)

    But of all the quotable quotes that I've ever encountered, the one that takes the cake is a line from luckychan's brother JT's secret admirer.  They never found out who wrote the unsigned note.  Whoever you are, though, know that you have been immortalized in quote history.
Here it is:

    "You are like the air to my balloon,
    without you, I cannot fly..."

A classic, I tell you.  A classic.

* * *

In other news:

~Karen has attempted to be GTK (Great Teacher Karen), in a teaching demo which she performed yesterday
~Tala, Mayumi, Eric and Caloy, are received by Maria Makiling.  I have no idea exactly what they're talking about.  They're conversing in low tones, and they won't allow me (or Kulas the kapre, who has been tailing them) to hear what they're saying. (intrigued? read our upcoming novel! <--shameless and premature plug)
~those school shootings are insane...

over and out.

Panoorin nyo po ang Siquijor, suporta na rin sa pelikulang Pilipino.  Still not THE great Filipino movie of our generation, pero ok naman. Comments: there were a few loose ends left at the end of the movie, and sometimes mahina ang sound.  But it's a fairly good mystery/suspense story, and the irony at the end was simply delicious.  Playful ang camera angles, very characteristic of indie filipino.

Rhea, Jerc and I watched it last saturday.  We had lunch in TemptAsian.  Then we burned everything off at an arcade game called "Final Furlong".  Guys, ito yung horse racing na game sa Timezone. Grabeh, nakakapagod, very physical.  They should put the damn machine in gyms; they'd make a killing.


* * *

Films.  We're writing a film script for the CinemaOne contest.  I'm burned out from trying to be creative for hours on end.  Now I can only think in stark Hemingway-esque prose. Declarative sentences:  I am tired. My neck hurts.  I want to rest, but I still need to prepare kefir.  Kefir is a health drink I ferment everyday for my parents.  It's made from milk, and tastes like creamy vinegar.

This is what you do for love.

It's a bit of an adjustment, working on a creative thing with new people.  By new, I mean not the gorgeous and talented writers in dormant muses.  Tougher.  And full of compromise, iba iba kasi ang creative vision nyo.

Worn out. Tired.  Squeezed dry. (But not dry enough to run out of rants.  Which brings me to my newly formulated theory that hope isn't the last thing to survive in the face of adversity; rants are).

Bye for now.

Milenyo was a killer, literally. According to the dailies, there were 76 casualties. On TV was the gnarled skeleton of a billboard, the bare steel bones lonely without the cloth of celebrity endorsement. Just this morning, a man climbed one of those warped steel frames. Everyone made such a fuss about him. The fire department arrived on the scene to talk him out of (possible) jumping. The neighbors were in the usual, Filipino usisero mode. The sun hadn't risen yet, but the news crews did their share of illuminating the scene. Front and center of the drama is the man who suddenly--on a whim, it seemed--decided to climb some billboards.

Why was the billboard climber such an oddity? Maybe he just liked heights-- he was, how do you say it? Acrophilic? Or maybe he wanted to be left alone, so he could think. Maybe there was less air pollution up there. Who knows? What I did find funny was that people automatically assumed that he was disturbed and suicidal. Why is that?

Me, I get a kick out of trains. I find the motion, and the ecumenical anonymity, conducive to a state of peaceful blankness. If I never got off the train though, people would probably think I'm nuts too. Sometimes though, when stress makes me particularly escapist, I wish the "train state of mind" would never leave me: pleasantly cool, not tired or hungry or happy or sad or particularly reflective, neither here nor there. Just cruising.

P.S. When they finally got mr. billboard climber down from his perch, he said (before fainting dramatically before the news cameras): "May problema ako sa ate ko..." Anong problema? asked GMA-7, ABS-CBN, and RPN9, their bulbous microphones almost against his mouth. "Malaki," he said, before passing out on the stretcher. For those who like to predict human behavior, you can breathe a sigh of relief now. He WAS disturbed.

P.P.S I wonder how much they pay train drivers. Would they hire me if I applied? Probably not, but i can promise you better diction over the train speakers if ever.

P.P.P.S. Wish me luck! I'll need it.

Meron na ata akong astigmatism. Madali na sumakit ang ulo ko, kapag nagbababad sa harap ng computer, o nagbabasa ng libro (na parehong madalas kong gawin).

Ang (medyo) magandang balita: meron na ata akong trabaho. Pinapapunta ako ng Smart bukas sa opisina nila, para daw pag-usapan ang "terms". "Positive" naman daw ang impression sa interview ko, sabi nung tumawag na taga-Smart. Huwaw!

***

Isang pagtatambal na napaka-predictable ang resulta:

(oras na walang magawa sa mall)
+ (pagnanais igiit ang karapatang gumasta ng perang naiinip lang sa bangko)
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
dalawang libro na natapos kong basahin sa loob ng dalawang araw


Ang dalawang librong ito ay ang Stainless Longganisa, na pinakabagong akda ni Bob Ong (yung nagsulat ng ABNKKBSNPLAko! at Bakit Baliktad Magbasa ng Libro ang Pilipino?), at Invisible Monsters ni Chuck Palahniuk. Ok naman sila: di masyadong nayanig ang mundo ko, walang pumutok na bulkan o sumalantang bagyo sa isipan. Pero ok naman.

Yung "Stainless Longganisa", tungkol sa pagsusulat. Adik talaga ko sa mga librong tungkol sa pagsusulat. Nakakita ako sa Powerbooks ng makapal na libro na sinulat ni Jane Smiley tungkol dito ("what to read and how to write", sabi nung subtitle), at nangati talaga ang mga kamay ko na bilhin sya (di ko binili kasi mahal. 1,300 php. wala pa kong sweldo no). May pagnanasa ko ring sinusulyapan ang librong "On Writing" ni Stephen King tuwing nagkikita kami sa bookstore.

Alam ko naman na wala rin masyadong matuturo sa kin ang mga librong ito. May paniniwala akong sa praktis lang nakukuha ang lahat. Praktis at pagbabasa ng maraming maraming libro. At siyempre, sa pagkakaroon ng maraming karanasan sa buhay.

Pero di ko mapigilan ang sarili kong kumonsulta sa mga batikan, sa mga bigatin. Ano bang sikreto nyo? Gusto kong binabasa ang mga pananaw nila tungkol sa proseso, baka sakaling may di ako napansin dati na mahalagang sangkap para sa tagumpay: mag-alay ng manok sa bisperas ng November 1; kumain ng maraming bawang; wag maligo ng isang linggo. Yung mga ganon ba. Ayos lang kung mangamoy; sabi nga ni Bob Ong, "obligasyon bilang alagad ng sining ang mangamoy"

Pero wala namang mga payo na ganon. Di rin naman kasi sya nakukuha sa mga ritwal o pamahiin; kahit akap ni Neil Gaiman, walang epekto! (pinangarap ko pa naman na sana may konting maipapahid sa aking talento si Tito Neil nung naka- free hug ako sa kanya. pero wala! wala! wala!)

***

Dear Paul oh my old friend
I always liked you but you always liked to go
I loved you from the classroom window
But you were busy making girls like me miserable
Chasing the high school girls

Dear Paul I was changed
My very first addiction was named after you
And I stared and I shed some tears
Then started writing songs to comfort me while I wait
But like some things you never came

Don't you know eleven years is a long time
To freeze a heart, eleven years is long enough
To make a girl insane

Dear Paul would you stay far
And be the bicycle that I never had
And I've tried different kinds of ice cream
And some made my throat sore
But you were only bliss
So I'll visit you in dream

Don't you know eleven years is a long time
To freeze a heart, eleven years is long enough
To make a girl insane

You make a girl insane Paul
You make a girl insane

(sa wakas, may mp3 na ko nito! nyarharhar. gusto ko talaga ang imagery sa kantang to. be the bicycle i never had.)

Bad trip man! Kanina, sumakay ako ng jeep para pumunta sa UP, dahil magpapasa ko ng thesis manuscript draft. Tapos, sinong nakasabay ko sa jeep? walang iba kundi.... (tentenenten...)

ANGhit man!

Tumabi pa talaga sa akin ang hit man sa kulob na jeep. Tapos, humawak ang hit man sa railing, para mas lalo kong maamoy ang pheromones nya! Tapos, tumabi pa sya sa downwind side! Feel na feel ko ang lakas ng dating ng (ang)hit man--as in, wow!

kung minamalas nga naman.

***

Owner of the Sky
Cynthia Alexander

time and time again
we tread upon
the dusty earth we bed
in search for
the Owner of the Sky

must I? I must! I say
age upon age, say I,
exalt in my search for
the Owner of the Sky

I see sky, you see
the sky from end to end
sees I, you see
I be now
as I be then

life after life I be borne
upon the dusty path
lay your head on the weary rock
in search for in search for
the Owner of the Sky

I see sky, you see
the sky from end to end
sees I, you see
I be now as I be then

***

I love saying, "I have an artistic temperament!" That just cracks me up every time.

I had a yummy brunch today. It was the result of some last minute ingenuity, as a lot of good things tend to be (i.e. i was starving and needed to prepare something quick before i keeled over from hunger).

The anatomy of a quick, delicious brunch
~ The base: a bowl of steaming rice (inoculate this with Aspegillus oryzae, then Saccharomyces, and you'd have sake. But that's an altogether different matter)
~ 2nd layer: Del Monte Filipino style spaghetti sauce, poured over rice (quantity to taste)
~ 3rd layer: a slice of Provolone cheese (yumyum)
~ 4th layer: pan-seared bell peppers and portobello mushrooms, both marinated in a mix of soy sauce, drained fruit cocktail juice, and thyme.
~ 5th layer: a slice of ham
~ topping: drizzle balsamic vinegar over all (to taste)

Voila! amazing what you can do with holiday leftovers.

Sarap nito. The cheese melts with the heat of the rice, and makes it a bit rich.
(haha. tama ba namang maglagay ng recipe dito? I've been reading too many cookbooks)

***

Natutuwa ako sa Tito namin na sa amin nagsstay for the moment. Bigla ba namang nagluto ng fried frog legs. Siya mismo yung humuli ng palaka sa bakuran namin. Hehe. Napaka-outdoorsy. Parang Steve Irwin (although the crocodile hunter would probably catch the little critter for educational purposes, not for food).

Natakot lang ako tikman dahil baka poisonous yung palaka. Malamang hindi, pero malay mo ba. <-- paranoid

***

I watched Blue Moon with Jerc today. Ok naman siya. Naiyak ako. Malaking bagay na siguro yun, kasi di naman ako yung tipo na madaling maiyak sa pelikula (i think. o baka feeling lang ako)

Wala na akong sasabihin pa, dahil baka ma-spoil pa ang mga nais manood.

***

Bah! Tama na ang katamaran! Back to work.
Incidentally, swerte daw and mga year of the ox ngayong year of the fire dog! Aba, baka swertehin na tayo sa thesis! hehehe