Rave review for Martin/RP war song in Spanish

As a music critic, I shall rave about Martin Nievera’s recent performance without the least hesitation. For the record, I have never met Martin.

The national anthem is a song. Martin Nievera is no ordinary person; he is an artist. He interpreted the anthem guided by his artistic instincts, sensibilities and patriotic spirit. He gave the song his all — singing it with his soul, with every nerve and fiber of his being.

Interviewed, Martin said the significance of the occasion led him to render the anthem as though it were the last song he would sing in his life.

As I listened to him no less than three times over television, his depth of feeling, his intensity of expression so moved me that I felt proud to be a Filipino, standing ten feet tall! Fired up and inspired as Martin was, he sang the anthem to inspire his countrymen and, not the least, Pacquiao himself who, at that precise moment, was facing the greatest fight of his life. And mind you, it was Pacman who chose Martin to render Lupang Hinirang!

A UP professor of law commented that the rule regarding the anthem did not apply to Martin’s rendition because at that time, Martin was in Las Vegas, adding — and this is the gist of my own argument — that Martin should be given freedom of expression, that is, the artistic license due him as an artist. Had he rendered the anthem as Rock ‘n’ Roll, Hip-Hop or Street Dance music, then, even without any rule, he should have been severely chastised for having taken wanton liberties with the national anthem.

In contrast, Martin conveyed immense respect and reverence toward it, elevating it to the highest standard of excellence while infusing every word with the greatest fervor and conviction he was capable of expressing. Bravo, Martin, Bravo!

As a corollary to the above, The Lord’s Prayer (Our Father) was originally sung at mass in Latin. Now it is sung, during mass or outside it, in English or Tagalog, in a variety of ways. Who is complaining? Not even the Church, with its rigorous do’s and dont’s, has raised her voice in protest, mindful of the inherent, intrinsic and basic freedom of the individual.

Instituto Cervantes Director Jose R. Rodriguez should be warmly commended for the highly successful Book Fair which instilled into hundreds a greater love for reading.

Filipino songs in Spanish, which reflected our Spanish heritage, were also presented. Raul Sunico’s most enlightening lecture was on the origin of the songs, two of which told of Spanish soldiers falling in love with Filipino maidens and ruefully leaving them to answer the army’s call.

Pianist Sunico himself accompanied several pieces, with tenor Lemuel de la Cruz, sopranos Nenen Espina and Naomi Sison, and guitarist Ruben Reyes spiritedly interpreting the arrangements by Sunico and Reyes. One of the songs, Birola, Birola, Birola, was a revolutionary march (in fractured Spanish) which I had learned from my late mother, Dr. Severina Luna-Orosa. As a young girl, she and the rest of the family fled to the mountains to escape the Phil-Spanish War. From their mountain lair, my mother heard, over and over again, Filipino soldiers singing the march. With her musicality and rententive memory, she learned it, passing it on to me years later.

Herewith is the song with translation supplied: Birola, Birola, Birola/Los Castilas subieron montes / The Spaniards climbed mountains / Birola, birola, birola, Los Castilas siguieron atras. The Spaniards retreated. Se marcharon los cazadores, Se marcharon guardias civiles, Mandaluyong y Sta. Ana, Gritaron guardia a formar. Marching huntsmen and civil guards shouted form guard. Makati y Guadalupe, Se armaron bayoneta, Y al toque de la corneta, ninguno se escapó. / They armed themselves with bayonets, and at the sound of the trumpet, no one escaped. Que tiroteo pacbong, Que canonazó, bungbong. What shots, what cannon balls./Los Hispanos no ganaran, no ganaran, Y al fin de estos, se marcharán, se marcharán. The Spaniards won’t win and at the end of all these, they will leave. / Viva Emilio y Pio del Pilar. Vivan los soldados, valor singular. / Long live the valiant soldiers. Y ella Pio donde atacó, Fuego derecha e izquierda, Castilay nagtacbo. And there where Pio attacked, firing right and left, the Spaniards fled.