Daisy: Theater’s major loss / Clara: Great flamenco dancer

The recent passing of Dalisay Hontiveros Avellana is a major loss to Philippine theater. She and her husband Lamberto “Bert” Avellana, declared National Artist much earlier, founded the Barangay Theater Guild in the late 1930s, and the close brilliant collaboration between husband and wife does not seem to find any equal in local theater.

Bert directed, Daisy acted, and arguably, no actress can match the range and diversity of the roles she portrayed. Being the wife of Bert, she consistently received preferential treatment which was wholly deserved. For instance, in the film version of Nick Joaquin’s “Portrait of the Artist as Filipino”, the camera was logically focused on Daisy as Candida in the “laughing scene” while Naty Crame-Rogers – herself an outstanding actress – stayed in the background as Paula.

As I have observed, Daisy deserved such privileges. Her strong, singular, distinctively dominant personality inevitably persisted in the roles she portrayed, this was presumably why theater critic Nati Valentin observed: “Daisy is always Daisy.” It should be stressed, however, that it was a memorable Daisy who was always Daisy, thus garnering the lustiest applause at the end of every BTG production.

The theater group thrived from the 1950s to the 1980s. I recall seeing “Portrait” in 1975 which starred Daisy, Naty, Veronica Palileo, Nena Perez-Rubio, Butch Josue, Bert Olivar, Ed Villapol, F. Merlo. Other BTG presentations often starred Nick Agudo and Jose Mari Avellana.

Jose Mari and visual artist Ivi Cosio Avellana, family members, are excellent players themselves, and I sometimes thought they outshone Daisy for their whole-heartedly assuming other characters outside their own, or other than their own when they were onstage.

Daisy not only acted but also directed, wrote scripts for stage and radio, took part in readings (which BTG popularized) and taught drama in the schools.

During the Japanese Occupation, when no new Filipino or Hollywood films were forthcoming, she and Bert, through the BTG, audaciously entertained audiences with spontaneous stage improvisations.

Years after the war, BTG staged Leonor Orosa Goquingco’s “Her Son, Jose Rizal” which eminent dramatist Wilfrido Ma. Guerrero described as “the best play of the year (1955) and heartbreakingly moving.” Bert himself wrote: “The play received tremendous critical praise and was cited for its tender and touching scenes, its evocation of an era long gone, the timelessness of its conceptualization, and its literary excellence.”

I shall always appreciate that evaluation as well as the note Daisy graciously sent me in 1967 which, modesty aside, I quote herewith: “I have always been glad that there are perceptive persons like you who understand and sympathize with local theater’s innumerable problems.”

Daisy is now reunited with Bert; they must be blissfully hearing the thunderous, unending applause up there.

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“In Nomine Matris” was on its last day when I saw the film in a Megamall theater. Being in Latin, the title must refer to the Virgin Mary, mother of Christ. But it also symbolizes other mothers in the movie.

Clara Ramona is its main mother. She has been windowed twice. Both her sons Enrique and Daniel (Biboy Ramirez and Ai Gatmaitan) – they have different fathers – are in love with Mara, a dancer in Clara’s classes who is slated to perform as lead in the dance company’s forthcoming program. Mara has intimate relations with Enrique and, owing to intensive rehearsals, has a miscarriage on the night of the program. Thus, she is in effect the illegitimate mother of her illegitimate baby. Incidentally, it is Daniel, not Enrique, who takes Mara to the hospital!

Mara herself is the illegitimate daughter of the Mayor who refuses to marry her mother who is thus an illegitimate wife.

This complex romantic plot is closely and cleverly intertwined with dances in the studio where Clara holds sway. The movie, in fact, opens and closes with her performing her own choreography, primarily flamenco, in brilliant fashion, with electrifying zapateados and taconeos, her wraith-like figure whirling, swaying with the breath-taking speed of a teen-aged ballerina. She is, in brief, a great dancer towering above the local ones I have seen.

A stylized Tinikling, Pandango sa Ilaw and a T’boli dance were also interspersed. Although Clara’s young dancers don’t match her flair, brio, elan and her technique, many of them are admirable. Mara, Liza Diño, is not only an outstanding dancer, she is also a consummate actress. Singled out, too, are Tami Monsod, Winnie’s daughter, Dr. Olivia R. Francisco, actually a dentist by profession, and a poetry performance by Jam Perez.

The Spanish Embassy and the Instituto Cervantes are helping to preserve an immeasurable legacy to our dancers through a movie written and directed by Will Fredo.