The Philippine Online Chronicles

In arts and culture, the term “kanto” could mean a myriad of things. It is a popular genre of Turkish music inspired by Italian opera in the early 20^th century. Solos or duets sung before or in between acts of plays to tweak the audience’s interest and draw in crowds were called “kanto”. Any innovative instrumental music is also labeled “kanto”.

Meanwhile, the Filipino word “kanto” means the “corner of a street or alley”. Colloquially, “kanto” denotes the colloquial, a custom of worldliness. It symbolizes not the sheltered but a shelter for the unsheltered, a culture of counter-culture.

In an indistinct, ingenious part of Makati, away from the otherwise corporate establishments, right smack in the middle of what now seems to be “home of the hipsters”, is another Kanto.

Soft launch and grey boxes

Kanto, a recently-established independent art space, promises an offering of arts and multimedia as eclectic and diverse as the word’s etymology.

It was founded by e.g. Yolk Productions, owned by philanthropist and art-lover Toshihiko Uriu. Kanto is presently being run by artists Mideo Cruz as director and Racquel de Loyola as deputy director, with Philip Paraan as manager.

Kanto is located at The Collective, a hub of small commercial establishments in Malugay Street. It is a two-storey glass-enclosed space situated directly in front of The Collective’s main party and multimedia production area.

Upstairs is a low-ceilinged open space where one has to crouch or squat or sit Indian-style, with a big glass window that offers a view to the usual ruckus outside. “Parang aquarium,” says Cruz. From the inside looking out, or outside looking in, depending on the point of view of whoever is under scrutiny.

Below, during Kanto’s soft launch last November 5, the walls were adorned with a few paintings, on the ledges and walls some sculptures, mostly by Cruz.  On the floor-aligned shelves-cum-benches were an array of art pamphlets, books and flyers ranging from exhibit brochures to performance art FAQs to the quintessential The Art Book.

The space was cozy and no-nonsense enough to have Wuds frontman Bobby Balingit spontaneously burst into song at the prodding of an equally-eclectic group of spectators, mindless of the blast of heavy disco bass from outside. Aside from the shelves, painted grey wooden boxes served as seats for guests and well-wishers. Everything is multi-purpose, everything is anti-purpose.

In The Collective, Kanto stands out like a sore thumb but curiously still manages to settle in, a counter to the counter-culture, the anti-hipster hipster.

Artist-run

Cruz prefers to refer to Kanto as “artist-run” rather than an “alternative” space.

“It’s hard to define what ‘alternative’ is. ‘Alternative’ is relative, and it would be condescending to even try to define it or claim that what’s in here is the ‘alternative’. After all, we are essentially mainstream artists ourselves,” Cruz said.

What he probably meant was that defining ‘alternative’ inevitably molds and carves the eventual “mainstream”. And Kanto’s success, or demise, relies mainly on just how far into the “mainstream” it can explore, and yes, tolerate. After all, in the Philippines, similar independent art spaces thrived and continue to thrive, but not without difficulty, particularly in the financial department. In a country where government funding for culture and the arts is close to none and where private funding is minimal and profit-based, Kanto may just be off to a level-headed start in that it is not myopic and naïve.

How does Kanto plan to thrive? “We are fortunate to have private funding for now. But the aim really is to build a community of artists that will together build, cultivate and sustain the space,” Cruz replied.

As independent art spaces go, Kanto is an ‘alternative’ venue as opposed to commercial apparatus and institutions for artists. Art places such as Kanto are crucial for contemporary art as they provide a more accessible environment for artists with ideas that are out of the box or not necessarily market-friendly.

Cruz quips, “Ayaw naming maging high art. Pero at the same time, gusto rin naming i-preserve iyong disiplina at environment ng isang art space.”

In other words, Kanto is a place for artists to converge and experiment but it is not a tambayan in the “kanto-speak” sense. It is a parallel art space but it is not your regular pristine white gallery. In Kanto, whatever art is showcased should be the main act. The songs and tunes before, in between and after acts are either incidental or coincidental to the whole landscape.

Even the furniture, grey boxes for seats, dare not steal the show.

First offering

Last November 23, Kanto hosted its first exhibit, Jez Aznar’s Under the Lord’s Shadows, a photo and multimedia exhibit in commemoration of the second anniversary of the Maguindanao Massacre.  The exhibit is part of photojournalist Aznar’s long-term documentary project on Mindanao.

His photos line Kanto’s walls, each one vividly yet poignantly depicting the socio-political, economic conditions of the island. Under the Lord’s Shadows will run in Kanto until December 14.

Let a hundred flowers bloom

Before the soft launch, Kanto’s Facebook status message read, “Let a hundred flowers blossom and a hundred schools of thought contend”. This perhaps carries an unapologetic undertone of the subversive cloaked in so-called eclecticism, with every intention to smash the mediocre and conventional and usher in change.

All things in perspective, Kanto has all the potential to be more than a just a “space”, but rather a process of art that is being well-thought out - a work in progress that will hopefully promote a much-needed movement in arts and culture amidst the hipster-ism and apathy.

Kanto may be reached at parasakanto@gmail.com.

Image taken from bombhead on Flickr. Some rights reserved.