Billed as “the Ermita outlaw,” Pepito Bosch was actually a Pasay denizen who became legend as much for the times and scene he represented as the way he did so. In a wo-wo-wo way.
Heh heh. Much has been written about him; no need to repeat the lore. Either you knew Topepits or you didn’t. And either you knew Ermita (actually more of Malate) of the ’70s or you caught a whiff of it. And that was what Pepito Bosch represented, the very essence of the fringe of it.
“You know. Thing.” As he liked to say.
On Nov. 21, a Friday, the clan that had expanded from Ermita, Malate and Pasay to Baguio and Puerto Princesa by way of San Juan and Quezon City gathered in an en grande bohemia throwback, hippie reunion and jeprox hoedown to pay tribute to The Bosch. It was the 20th year of his demise, so young in his early 50s did he leave us, in 1994.
So much has happened since, so many kids have we raised who have partaken of the same spirit of the times, those times — the ’70s, ’80s, ’90s — and are now producing their own outstanding art.
Such as Maxine Syjuco, a child when her Tito Pepito passed away, yet now paying tribute with a site-specific / mixed-media installation; wooden chair with wings, photograph, mirror, and light bulb (Title: “Pepito/otipeP”). Then, too, she painted a rose over Pepito’s face on the iconic image “Portrait of Pepito” by Wig Tysmans.
This was the image disseminated by tribute organizers Agnes Arellano and Rica Concepcion, with Wig’s permission, for friends to collab on any which way.
Applying their own touches on Tysman’s photo, Dengcoy Miel sent his Pepito art from Singapore, as did Gerry Cornejo, with lines Comic Sans’d on the blank space, and Caroline Kennedy from an ocean away, and poet Jimmy Abad with spare lines from Antipolo.
The venue was TheBar@1951, on M. Adriatico St. of that address, diagonally across the original Penguin Café & Gallery where Pepito used to hold court.
That Friday night, the ground floor hosted the screenings of films and video care of Rica Concepcion, all relating to Pepito or featuring him in a cameo. Among these were “Sapon di Pasok,” a concert docu by Egay Navarro; Excerpts from Kidlat Tahimik’s early indies; “Pepe” by Raymond Red; “The Caretaker” by Larry Manda; “Meeting Pepito” by Virginia Hillyard. “Euglalio (Huling Sigaw)” by Eli Guieb; and an a brief video with didgeridoo audio sent in by Johnny Altomonte from Darwin, Australia.
On the second floor and mezzanine were exhibited various tribute pieces, led off by a special low altar by National Artist Bencab, titled “Retablo — Pepito, Robert, Santi, Nonoy,” a mixed- media collage on red-painted wooden altar with two doors at 44 cm x 31cm x 11cm.
Lui de Vera exhibited “Corneal Conjunctives” from the series Umbra Penumbra -— 12” round canvas with satellite pingpong balls, also painted as eyeballs.
Baboo Mondoñedo had a pair of watercolors: “Wowowo Time” and “Ermita Outlaw.” Pandy Aviado: drawing of Pepito’s face on marbled paper, 36 x 31 cm. Arnel Agawin: “The Bosch and His Fast Talking Hands” — pen and ink cartoon print in limited edition. Angel Shaw — photocollage.
Jean Marie Syjuco: Performance Photographs / Portraits of Pepito from the ’80s (Title: “Celebrating Pepito Celebrating 20 Years”) — Sketch from her series “The Drawing of a Single Line is Full of Adventure” on Portrait of Pepito by Wig Tysmans.
Cesare A.X. Syjuco: Handwriting that says nothing on Portrait of Pepito by Wig Tysmans.
Wig Tysmans: Five framed b&w photos. Boy Gozum: “Abaka Man” collab with Santi Bose, together with Santi’s text, enlarged from Espiritu Santi (staircase landing). Hans Brandeis: various photos placed all over, especially at the back of the mics.
Among the sculpture were: Agnes Arellano’s “Bosch and the Hollow Men” — a 1986 tribute inscape-docu-pics with portrait of Pepito in high-relief, together with Kai Hilgemann’s photo docu of the livecasting of P’s face; “May Your Tribe Increase” — a fantasy portrait, Pepito as Taomaraw or horned god (horny god?) in plaster of paris; and “Shaman’s Cache” — two ceremonial icons for sticking into the ground for special ceremonies (featuring the faes of Pepito Bosch and Robert Villanueva with Maltain background.
Gus Albor’s “Alaala” was a found object (#7, a whistle and Bosch spark plug). There too was a collagraph print by Pepito himself (ferns as yellow bird) c/o Laida Lim.
More sculpture: “Balat” — Pepito’s face moulded on goatskin with ethnic calligraphy by Jaime de Guzman; plus Billy Bonnevie’s altar and living room installation, “Pepito/ Mona Lisa” mash-up collab with Deo Arellano, and “Agua del Diablo” — lambanog collab with Agnes Arellano.
And for the poetry and prose that celebrated Pepito, which figure of our generation may lay claim to readings done in his name by poets such as Ricky de Ungria (two poems titled “Bosch” and “Pepito” found in his latest collection Mem’ry Wire (National Book Award for Poetry 2013), and Juaniyo Arcellana of a prose excerpt from Cesar Ruiz Aquino’s “A Fine Madness Named Pepito Bosch”, plus yours truly of a poem also titled ”Pepito,” from the collection Mothers Like Elephants.
Agnes read a poem by Luis Francia of NY, while Mac McCarthy narrated a prose episode that was quintessentially Bosch. And the highlight of the readings was Cesare A.X. Syjuco’s performance with toy guitar, while chanting the poem-song “Si Moomoo Man Ay May Damdamin Din.” Musical improvs rounded up the family party with Jun Lopito, Rollie Maligad, and Sammy Asuncion (on the kudlong), with drumming led by Mac McCarty.
So what a party it was for Pepito, followed the Monday after by Pandy’s superb, epic retrospective at the Ayala Museum no less: “Graven Images: 1964-2014 Pandy Aviado Fifty Years of Printmaking.”
I regret my failure to attend. Good thing however that family friends, as always, take up the cudgels.
From Sylvia L. Mayuga:
“What Pandy Aviado likes most about printmaking is how it democratizes art. Having first learned it from the father of printmaking in the Philippines, Manuel Rodriguez, Sr., Pandy practiced it, taught it and expanded its practice all over the country. He enjoyed it so much that before he knew it, 50 years had passed and the Ayala Museum was ready to celebrate a retrospective of his work thus far. What a rich experience for both artists and historians!”
And this, from the Moomoo Man himself: “If Virgilio Pandy Aviado is making his bid for greatness, he more than succeeds in this show.” — Cesare A.X. Syjuco