When life imitates art
July 25, 2005 | 12:00am
Jack en Poy
Hale Hale Hoy
Sinong Matalo
Siyang unggoy!
It is hard to imagine how a painting that is barely 20 years old can be considered a modern masterpiece. But that is exactly what "Jack en Poy" by Lazaro Soriano is: A classic work of art, timeless in its appeal for the way that it exquisitely encapsulates the fiesta bedlam of Philippine politics.
The scene is carnivalesque; like watching a trapeze act, or seeing a clown up close, the experience is at once gleeful as it is discomfiting. With profound insight, Lazaro uses the children’s game of jack en poy as visual metaphor for the first Edsa People Power Revolution. The hand signs used allude to the various gestures made by the opposing parties – the "V" sign meaning both "scissors" and "KBL," the clenched fist denoting "stone" and "fight," and the "L" of the opposition looking more like a smoking gun being brandished in a laughable spaghetti Western. Amidst such a plenitude of gesticulations, the feeling evoked in this game of chance is one of confusion and uncertainty.
A gaggle of people, some recognizable, the rest anonymous, converge on the painting’s fore and middle ground. A woman who looks like Cory Aquino stands stoically in the center. One wonders if she is digging her heels, making a brave stand, or if she is simply oblivious to the chaos around her. Behind Aquino, we see what appear to be representations of the late Cardinal Sin and then Gen. Fidel Ramos, holding on to her shoulder, showing support. The man in white barong, sleeves rolled up, is purportedly a limning of Juan Ponce Enrile, an erstwhile ally, surrounded top to bottom by members of the military. The matronly figure cozying up to Aquino, her hands straddling a string of pearls, fingers schemingly switched to a "V" pointing downwards, is said to be a member of Imelda Marcos’ pompadoured coterie, a thick skinned ("makapal ang mukha"), porcine-faced Blue Lady who switches loyalties shamelessly just to assure her position in society. Ordinary civilians – a farmer, a construction worker, and a photographer aiming his camera at the viewer – are situated on the right. Further on, a sinister-looking masked figure looms. Tension envelops the scene.
More interesting details can be found at the bottom of the picture. A forehead with fingers pointed upwards to look like horns gives Aquino the semblance of a Marian image. With the devil lying at her feet, the message that is being purported here is that she is resolutely combating society’s evils. But is she really? The profile of National Hero Jose Rizal, eyes blocked, sticks out from underneath the protagonist’s left elbow, leaving the impression of a cover up. The need for a definitive response and a resolution to this desperate impasse dangles listlessly in the balance, evidenced by the monkey perched upon the cardinal’s staff, the simian’s curvilinear shape looking very much like a question mark.
As balloons in every color of the political spectrum – from the New Society’s reds, whites and blues to the New Regime’s yellows and greens, to the pinks, oranges, and aquamarine’s of the country’s fence sitting balimbings – rise up and out of the painting, one notices that even the azure sky seems muddled, not knowing which way to go.
Caught somewhere between dawn and dusk, Jack en Poy depicts the tragedy of a place which can never hope to see tomorrow for as long as it revels in the brink of disaster day after day after onerous day.
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