BRYAN LIM

June 11th, 2008 – 8:09 am
Tagged as: Misc

Manual Magazine, October 2004

Bench began 17 years ago with one stall in a corner of SM Makati. Today, it is every mall owner’s locator of choice, with 11 brands in 230 stores in 5 countries, and with 2500 employees in 30,000 sq m of retail space. It sells clothes, underwear, toiletries, cosmetics, furniture, grooming services, and internet access. Its Oracle-managed central warehouse in Pasay City is 11,000 sq m big, with a further 16,000 sq m lot on standby for future expansion.

While visionary executive creative director Ben Chan remains the company’s public face, his favored nephew works quietly behind the scenes.

Bryan Lim, 30, son of both the company president and vice-president (who happens to be Chan’s sister), has been with the family-owned company since 1995; has been general manager (and acting chief operations officer) of Suyen Corporation since 2001; and is today deeply involved with Bench, HerBench, Bench Fix, Bench Body, Celio, Greyhound, Human, Dimensione, PCX, Kashieca, and Be Connected. Because practically everyone working in the retail giant now reports to him, he is in some ways already at the peak of his powers, arguably more powerful now than he will be when he and his sisters actually inherit the company.

The self-deprecating heir is mildly even apologetic for being a Son of Owner, even though he’s worked his way up from the bottom, starting out as operations staff assistant for the marketing department. Careless whispers from cynics, however, are a small price to pay for his priceless apprenticeship as Ben Chan’s Anointed One.

PIOLO PASCUAL

June 11th, 2008 – 7:53 am
Tagged as: Cinema

Manual Magazine, October 2004

To amuse the crew at a movie shoot, Judy Ann Santos supposedly once brought a bowl of rice over to a sleeping Piolo, and, never taking her gaze off him, wolfed the rice down without any viand whatsoever.

But Piolo isn’t just eye candy. He’s one of the few local artists who’ve achieved this level of both critical acclaim and commercial success, and his credibility cuts across age groups, gender lines, cultural boundaries, and socio-economic strata.

As a model, he can do both print and ramp (he’s 5’11”). He’s endorsed everything from diamonds to doughnuts, plus everything else in between: watches, eyeglasses, shoes, colognes, shirts, phone cards, soda, jeans, toothpaste, candies, pagers, cheese curls, and fried chicken, all successfully. His recent three-part ad campaign for Max’s Fried Chicken, for example, was rumored to increase sales by almost 15%, despite the Bird Flu scare and the comatose economy.

As a singer, his concerts with pop act The Hunks consistently jam-packed theaters here and abroad. On his own, his debut album went Gold, and his single Kailangan Kita twice became a finalist in the 2003 Awit Awards. His debut solo concert even filled over 20,000 seats at the Araneta Coliseum last April.

As an actor, his performance in Dekada ’70 earned him simultaneous Best Supporting Actor trophies from the 2003 Famas, Urian, PMPC/Star Awards, the Film Academy of the Philippines, and even the infamously nitpicky Young Critics’ Circle. But his awards don’t seem to have alienated finicky teenyboppers. His telenovelas are consistent top raters, and rumors have it that his 11 movies have grossed almost P900 million pesos combined, with the last one alone (Milan, opposite Claudine Baretto) supposedly grossing P120 million so far.

He’s had his share of bad publicity, of course, most of it about his personal life. But advertisers aren’t alarmed, because whatever Piolo’s fans couldn’t deny, they seem to have forgiven. Like Teflon, dirt simply doesn’t stick to him.

Hey, DuPont, are you listening?

FULL CIRCLE, BULLSEYE

June 11th, 2008 – 7:35 am
Tagged as: Misc

Homestyle Magazine, Jan 2008

“A story well told,” Robert McKee famously wrote, “gives you the very thing you cannot get from life: meaningful emotional experience. In life, experiences become meaningful with reflection in time. In art, they are meaningful now, at the instant they happen.”The implications of this is what drives most artists and cultural workers into self-sacrifice: that others may find meaning enough in their own lives to change their worlds (hopefully for the better), even if only for a little while, if only for a little bit.

It is also part of what drives the global discourse today on how best to legitimize digital photography as fine art in developing nations like ours, where people still mistakenly believe that art is irrelevant to economic survival, and whose idea of fine art is still largely defined by painting.

Into these heated debates about art, technology and emancipation innocently crashlands Blowup Babies, a full-production photography house run by six friends with a shared passion for movies: JA Tadena, a cinematographer; his wife Ning, a professional make-up artist and former pre-school teacher; Jessie Pastor, a cinematographer/ director; his wife Pam, a production designer; Quark Henares, a movie director; and Lia Martinez, a color-grader.

By simply attempting to raise the technical standards in commercial portraiture; by training their photographers the traditional way (Zone System metering, depth-of-field scales); by aggressively delivering value-for-money; and by generally educating the mass market about the importance of proper lighting and the judicious use of Photoshop; Blowup Babies might just inadvertently succeed where museums and art galleries are failing.

Jessie points out -–and rightly so– that Filipinos don’t have a culture of museum-hopping to begin with, so the attempt to legitimize digital photography “from the top, down” may be ineffective here. Better to do as they do: create your own market, and soak it enough in excellence so that it eventually demands excellence on its own.

Amusingly enough, Blowup Babies’ beginnings are intellectually humble: The Tadenas merely wanted to open a restaurant, but JA couldn’t cook, so they opted for a photo/portrait studio instead, because, at the very least, JA would “instinctively know what a good photograph was.” They enlisted the help of the Pastors, and the others who all further raised standards. And the house was born.

Come to think of it, intellectual humility might be JA’s trademark by now: as a wayward student, he got rejected by DLSU’s Comm Arts program TWICE, which led him to take special classes at UP Film Institute, where he met his wife. He then got rejected by Mowelfund’s Directing program as well, which led him to realize that what he loved about filmmaking was really cinematography, anyway.

Bullseye! He ran with the epiphany, and quickly became the youngest award-winning cinematographer in the country. And there was no turning back.

Painful discernment has marked Jessie as well. A pioneer survivor of art incubator Makiling/PHSA, he graduated from UP Fine Arts with a degree in Painting in the mid 80’s, when anti-commercialist sentiments were at a boiling point. When he entered advertising, he was branded a sellout, an artistic prostitute.

Decades later, Homestyle throws him back into the center of the fray, full circle, with JA in tow.

In art, Blowup Babies is meaningful now.

HOW TO BE A LIGHTHOUSE (for Sid Gomez Hildawa)

April 7th, 2008 – 7:06 am
Tagged as: Art

(version 1.2.1, with pictures + an expanded conclusion. With thanks to Fatima Lasay for comments leading to these revisions)

“For ten years, Sid was my lighthouse. Now he is gone.”

I wanted to leave it at that, if at all. Sid was a very private man, you see, and now more than ever, I felt the need to protect his privacy. Besides, I saluted him best with my shock, anyway (I’d been sobbing everywhere for four days: over meals, on the toilet bowl, in the office, at the wake, at the supermarket junk food aisle, in front of Congresswoman Rissa Hontiveros at the CCP necrological services…).

But because the worlds of art and education are building Sid cathedrals of words, I feel obliged to come forward and stand witness to the greatness of the man. Of all the people who knew him, you see, I am one with no right to remain silent. So, here goes: (more…)

ON HERESY AND FAITH: A Juan Luna Primer

March 28th, 2007 – 6:48 am
Tagged as: Art

BluPrint Magazine, Nov 2002

  • The magazine commissioned this essay at the height of the Parisian Life scandal, during the painting’s “extended stay” at the Bureau of Customs. to put things mildly, it was hell getting the interviews. GSIS Museum Director Eric Zerrudo even had to meet me incognito (unshaven, and in house clothes!), in some roach-infested panciteria in a Quiapo sidestreet, just to avoid the paparazzi.
  • At the time of publication, i was the only writer (art or otherwise) who publicly supported the GSIS acquisition. I even ended up in a print war at the Inquirer, against National Museum consultant John Silva.
  • A week after publication of this essay, an anonymous artist (well, actually, I know who. But I’m not telling) discovered that the subject of the painting (the woman in the pink gown) was actually a shockingly precise jigsaw-puzzle map of the Philippine Islands, in mirror-image. Luzon was her torso; the Cagayan-Ilocos coastline was her decollete. Her right shoulder socket (east) was the Punta Engaño Lighthouse in Santa Ana, Cagayan. Her left shoulder socket (west) was the Cabo Bojeador Lighthouse in Burgos, Ilocos Norte. Both lighthouses werecompleted the same year as the painting…in 1892.
  • Another anonymous source later claimed that the woman’s cleavage, which coincides with the Cagayan River Delta in Aparri, is the location of two Ming-era galleon wrecks, still unrecovered until today because of deep, turbulent waters.

    Parisian Life is one of only six known paintings from Luna’s final year in Paris, and it becomes a chilling diary entry when viewed in context. For 1892 was the year Luna’s baby daughter died, supposedly because her mother “didn’t love her enough;” the year he caught “his wife in a tryst with her lover Dussaq in an apartment at #25 Mount Thabor St;” the year he committed the double-murders which his career never fully recovered from despite his 1893 acquittal. Parisian Life was probably painted during days-off from work on his most ambitious showstopper, the now-destroyed 1892 People and Kings, which was almost as large as the 1884 Spoliarium—that mother of Pinoy telenovelas—but vastly more complicated. (more…)