Emmanuel Garibay (b.1962) Aplikante signed and dated 2015 (lower right) oil on wood 29" x 11 1/2" (74 cm x 29 cm) León Gallery wishes to thank the artist for confirming the authenticity of this lot. Provenance: Art Cube Emmanuel Garibay was born in Kidapawan, North Cotabato, but his family shortly moved to Davao and lived there before he went to Los Baños, Laguna to study college. He grew up in a fun and loving family and had a happy childhood. In college, Garibay first took up Sociology, a program that introduced him to various perspectives on human life, allowing him to understand how society and one’s personal lives relate. Later on, he took an interest in painting and transferred to UP Diliman’s Fine Arts program. His college years opened his eyes to the rather depressing and appalling reality of the Filipinos, prompting him to create works that revolved around his time’s societal and political conditions. Seemingly simple, there is an underlying somber mood in Garibay’s 2015 Aplikante. This oil on wood piece depicts a young man, perhaps just graduated from college, wearing formal attire and trying to look as presentable as possible in hopes of finding a job. The expression on his face and body language—eyes looking at a distance and hands keeping close to himself—suggests a hint of envy and embarrassment, probably brought by looking at his co-applicants who seem to be more affluent and well-off. Garibay creatively used the plank of carved wood, only painting his image on the jutted part and leaving the submerged areas untouched, giving his piece the illusion of a framed mirror. Indeed, this figure is a reflection of the unfortunate reality of the common folk, showing resiliency and standing tall in the face of adversity. Despite his wavering confidence, he still continues to go through with his application, believing that landing a good job will elevate his life in the future. (Jessica Magno)
Emmanuel Garibay (b. 1962) Profane signed and dated 2001 (lower right) oil on canvas 36" x 36" (91 cm x 91 cm) León Gallery wishes to thank the artist for confirming the authenticity of this lot Provenance: Boston Gallery, Manila Emmanuel Garibay has long since been enamored with religious subjects. Son of a Methodist pastor, religious metaphors snake their way into Garibay’s work as befitting an oeuvre overflowing with Filipino imagery, events of cultural and historical significance, and political criticism. This 2001 Profane, like many of his works, combines the aspects that made Garibay’s oeuvre stand out for his clientele. A cheeky yet scathing criticism, Profane may look like it does not contain Garibay’s usual fantastical elements but it is overflowing with religious connotations. One of the most easily identifiable markers of this piece is the pair of hands clasped tightly together as though in prayer. The person (which was not portrayed except their praying hands) seems to be holding an image of a man of some sort – he has his eyes closed, his sinewy body frail and thin. Around the frame of the picture are a ticking clock and a single pink rose whose vines and thorns tangle through the border. As an adjective, profane refers to contempt or irreverence to what is considered sacred. Garibay’s Profane acts the same way, if with a bit of a twist. The hands that cradle the broken, beaten image of the man echo the way one might carry an image of a saint. Their hands are clasped in an everlasting prayer, holding against hope for a miracle. However, instead of the divine, this person reveres a broken man. This desecrated version of the sacred takes center stage and yet he is still worshiped. Garibay’s Profane is still irreverent but despite this (or perhaps because of it), it is still sacred, worshipped, and praised. (Hannah Valiente)
Emmanuel Garibay (b. 1962) Himig signed and dated 2016 (lower right) oil on canvas 48" x 48" (122 cm x 122 cm) Accompanied by a certificate signed by the artist confirming the authenticity of this lot Social realist Emmanuel Garibay is a firm subscriber to the adage: “Art should comfort the disturbed and disturb the comfortable.” From his earliest works, Garibay’s art elevates the poor and the downtrodden, filling up his canvases with elongated figures that narrate the stories of the hopeless and the powerless. His upbringing in Kidapawan, North Cotabato is largely a catalyst for his art subjects, especially his father, a Methodist pastor. Indeed, his works draw inspiration from the social, political, and economic situations of the country with liberal takes on numerous Biblical imagery. His 2016 Himig is an amalgamation of the artist’s huge well of inspirations. Like a picture book, one can flip through the numerous allegories that Garibay fills this massive canvas. At the forefront are four figures, with two smaller figures standing on someone’s chest. It is hard to pick a central figure as Garibay’s figures are almost all similar in size, but the most colorful of the cast is a woman lying on her back as though she is in a casket. Her eyes are open but unseeing and from her chest springs a small stem of a sampaguita. On her hand, instead of a flower, she holds a half-peeled banana. Interestingly, on her chest stands a small figure of a priest. He holds a Bible close to his chest and beside him, an even smaller figure of Santa. The characters behind the woman are no less interesting. A man, situated very close to the lying woman, plays the violin, though a piece of white cloth partially covers his face. Beside him is a woman, staring straight at the audience as she holds her forefinger and her thumb only an inch apart from each other. Perhaps the most interesting is the man on the furthest back; he holds a sort of box under his arm – a ballot box, one could wager – and a gun. Whether this gun is for protection or offense is not clear; but what is clear is the man’s expression. Should it come down to it, his expression clearly says, he will not hesitate to fire the first shot. Garibay, as it seems, is making a pointed commentary on the Philippines’ political system with a sprinkle of religious allegory in it. Like many of his works, Himig offers an abundance of social and religious symbolism that the viewers are sure to feast their eyes and minds on. (Hannah Valiente)
Sydney signed and dated 2000 (lower left) pastel on paper 19 1/4” x 12 1/4” (49 cm x 31 cm) Leon Gallery wishes to thank the artist for confirming the authenticity of this lot
Bayani signed and dated 2010 (lower left) acrylic on paper 25 1/2” x 19 1/2” (65 cm x 50 cm) Leon Gallery wishes to thank the artist for confirming the authenticity of this lot
Untitled (Fusion Series) signed and dated 2003 (lower left and lower right) oil on canvas 75" x 104 1/4" (191 cm x 265 cm) Leon Gallery wishes to thank Mr. Emmanuel Garibay for confirming the authenticity of this lot Rene Robles and Emmanuel Garibay are two artists with vastly different art styles; it would have been hard to imagine a piece with the two of them together. Forever the rebel, Robles has questioned art and the role of the artist throughout his career. He was assertive as befits the founder of the art movement “assertionism” whose underlying principle contends that art has the power to assert, transform, and ascend. “It has spun off as a new art movement—quite ahead of its time—representing a more developed aesthetic, a bold style and strong, unique composition,” writes his website. On the other hand, Emmanuel Garibay’s art draws heavily on his keen sociopolitical consciousness. A known name in the Philippine social realism circle, Garibay portrays ordinary people in varying senses of political, religious, and social complexity. “It is the richness of the poor that I am drawn to and which I am a part of, that I want to impart,” he once said. However, this lot, a part of Garibay and Robles’s Fusion series, proves well enough that their different art styles mesh well. Each artist proves their essence, asserting and transforming the canvas to truly embody Garibay and Robles both together and alone in their aesthetic. “Rene Robles’ assertionism and Garibay’s Realistic paintings were great when fused together, especially because they are very different from each other,” Momentous Art writes of this exhibition. Indeed, Garibay and Robles have managed to do what not a lot of artists can – they shared a canvas and managed to shine a light not just on their collective prowess but the individual strengths with which they approached this collaboration. (Hannah Valiente)
Emmaus signed and dated 2011 (lower left) oil on canvas 50" x 60" (127 cm x 152 cm) León Gallery wishes to thank the artist for confirming the authenticity of this lot This 2011 work titled Emmaus, says Emmanuel Garibay, is one of his favorite pieces in his series of works about the post-resurrection event, narrated in the last chapter of the Gospel of Luke. In the story, two of Jesus' disciples, Cleophas and an unnamed one, were traveling from Jerusalem to Emmaus, which the gospel wrote was seven miles apart. The two were discussing an earlier incident, in which the women who brought the spices to anoint Jesus in His resting place discovered that the stone had already been rolled away from the tomb, and two luminous figures, possibly angels, said that the man they are looking for has already risen. This incident caused the apostle Peter to rush to the tomb, only to find strips of linen lying inside While the two disciples conversed, a man suddenly appeared and joined them, asking what they were talking about. The two, not recognizing that it was Jesus himself, were "downcast," interrogating the man, "Are you the only one visiting Jerusalem who does not know the things that have happened there in these days?" The three continued walking and discussing until the two disciples asked the man if he could come with them since dusk was beginning to fall. In the disciples' house, the man sat at the table, took bread, gave thanks, broke it, and shared it with them. The disciples, who had seemingly regained consciousness, shockingly realized it was the Lord all along. He suddenly disappeared after they had come to their senses, and they immediately returned to Jerusalem, proclaiming to the Eleven Apostles the good news of Jesus' resurrection. ABOVE: Caravaggio's Supper at Emmaus (painted in 1601 and now in the collection of London's National Gallery), one of the most famous paintings depicting Jesus' road to Emmaus appearance after his resurrection. This also served as one of the inspirations for Garibay's painting. The theme of Emmaus is a recurring subject in Garibay's works, one that he said "was a major series that got me a lot of attention and exposure in international ecumenical organizations." In the Emmaus works, Garibay hopes to convey a resonating message that many theologians may relate to, especially within the context of discourses on theology and Christology that are still dominated by colonial and Western viewpoints. According to American theologian and catechist Fr. Alfred McBride, the gospel account of the encounter at Emmaus boils down to the theme of Christian spiritual growth, presenting "the evolution of the awareness of the two disciples, from despair over Christ's death to faith in his resurrection." Jesus' disciples went into hiding after his crucifixion, fearing that the Jewish leaders and the Roman guards could arrest them and execute them. After the encounter at Emmaus, the disciples regained their faith in Christ's resurrection and the promise of a new and everlasting life. Similarly, Garibay appropriates this theme and recontextualizes the image of Christ, away from the Western, colonial concept and closer to the actual situation of the downtrodden. As Garibay said, "God is on the side of the poor and marginalized." In this Emmaus painting from 2011, Garibay reprises the subject of men merrily drinking with a woman (likely a prostitute) possessing the stigmata, an allusion to Christ's omnipresence even in the face of the marginalized. "I like this one," Garibay said in a recent interview with Leon Gallery about the work. "It is one of my most favorite pieces in the [Emmaus] series." The painting is rendered in a synthesis of cubism and figurative expressionism, resulting in a frenzy of distortion that becomes clearer as one views it longer and deeper. "I like how the figures and their expressions are more exaggerated," Garibay added. "This is a deliberate distortion [meant to further] echo the whole idea of disorientation." In a 2011 interview with Daniel Nicholas, Garibay said of the general theme of his Emmaus Series—which is strikingly similar to the rendition of the work at hand, "I thought that by representing Jesus in a radically different way, that of a woman, and especially a woman who seems to be of ill repute, the painting would really challenge the viewers to carefully consider the implication of seeing Jesus in other people, especially those who are downtrodden, especially those whom society looks down upon." Garibay continues, "That's why in the picture, the disciples, the two men beside the woman, are laughing so hard because they have just realized their mistaken notion of Jesus. It's like a joke. All three are laughing at the joke. I guess this is a contrast between the Jesus of history and the Jesus of the resurrection." Centuries of colonial rule have influenced how we perceive Christ. In virtually every Catholic church in the country, Christ is conventionally depicted as a Caucasian-looking man. However, the whole idea of Jesus being conformed to Western aesthetics and ideals only reinforces the hegemony of a colonial rule now disguised as "alliances," imperialist affinities that directly affect the welfare of the people and further exacerbate their lack of choice to free themselves from their forced subjection under cruel conditions and dispositions. Jesus is a political figure, inasmuch as he resisted the ultraconservatism of the Pharisees and scribes of his time. For Garibay, Jesus was "very much against conventional religiosity." He was much more visible in the presence of the people. He preached outside and served the poor, the sick, and the sinners. Recontextualizing Christ into the broader Filipino culture, bringing Him and associating Him closer than ever with the marginalized sectors of society brings about a faith that is liberating and empowering, not convicting and dependent on fear and punishment. When the Church is dwindling, it should go back to the very foundations that built it—and that is, Jesus humbly served and gladly welcomed the diminished and disenfranchised into His arms, radically striving to liberate them from their oppressive circumstances.
Emmanuel Garibay (b. 1962) Hand-signed and dated '2016' (lower right) Date of print creation: August 25, 2016 Ed. 36/45 33 x 49.5 cm (13 x 19 1/2 in) Accompanied by a Certificate of Authenticity issued by St. Luke's Medical Center Foundation, Inc. and signed by the artist This limited edition is a special collaboration between the artist and St. Luke's Medical Center - Global City for the Medical Scholarship Fund of St. Luke's Medical Center Foundation, Inc.
Emmanuel Garibay (b. 1962) Signed and dated '99' (1999, lower right) Oil on canvas 120 x 120 cm (47 1/2 x 47 1/2 in) Accompanied by a Certificate of Authenticity signed by the artist
Emmanuel Garibay (b. 1962) Signed (lower left) and dated '2001' (in document) Acrylic on canvas 91.4 x 91.4 cm (36 x 36 in) Accompanied by a Certificate of Authenticity signed by the artist
Emmanuel Garibay (b. 1962) Signed (lower right) and dated '2001' (in document) Acrylic on canvas 91.4 x 91.4 cm (36 x 36 in) Accompanied by a Certificate of Authenticity signed by the artist
Emmanuel Garibay (b. 1962) Signed and dated '11' (2011, lower right) Oil on canvas 91.4 x 91.4 cm (36 x 36 in) Accompanied by a Certificate of Authenticity signed by the artist
Emmanuel Garibay (b. 1962) Signed and dated '06' (2006, upper middle left) Oil on canvas 76.2 x 50.8 cm (30 x 20 in) A Genluna Gallery sticker is affixed to the back of the frame Accompanied by a Certificate of Authenticity signed by the artist
Anyo signed (lower right) dated 2012 oil on canvas 48” x 36” (122 cm x 91 cm) Leon Gallery wishes to thank the artist for confirming the authenticity of this lot WRITE UP Emmanuel Garibay’s Take on Auguste Rodin’s The Thinker F rom the get-go, Emmanuel Garibay harbors an intense creative interest in the marginalized and the masses. Born in Kidapawan, North Cotabato, the vibrant provincial life served as a muse for his works to come. “Every house has an old man or woman, a drunken man, a gang of kids roaming around town, and lots of stray dogs,” Garibay notes as Artes de las Filipinas writes in his artist biography. This fascination and respect for the masa is exemplified all throughout his career. He spent his college years lending his artistic abilities to the cause, interacting with other student activists from UP Diliman as a student of UP Los Banos. “The students whom I interacted with were using their art to epitomize the suffering and realism of the time,” he says. “It seemed like it was the natural thing to do” It was also the working people who internalized and interacted with his first exhibition. It was the working class type of shoppers who spent time examining Garibay's art, Artes de las Filipinas writes. The other simply gave a sweeping glance and moved on. As such, it was the ordinary people who populated Garibay's canvases. “It is the richness of the poor that I am drawn to and which I am a part of, that I want to impart,” he had said and his 2012 Anyo shows just that. Garibay’s Anyo portrays the figure of a man as he rests his head dejectedly on his arms. With his legs folded beneath him and his arm wrapped around himself, he is an image of suffering, emphasized only by the bareness of his body and the slump of his shoulders. However, like many of his works, he does not dwell on the negative. “The painting’s background is dark, but as in most of my work I have refused to give too much emphasis to the negative,” he says in an interview with Jo-Ann Van Reeuwyk published in the Image Journal. “The human spirit is overcoming that darkness. The figure becomes the light in otherwise dark surroundings.” Though Garibay’s quote pertains to a specific painting, it also rings true for Anyo. The man’s figure, dejected as it may be, still serves as a beacon of hope, a positive light (both figuratively and literally) amidst the dark background. Suffering may be suffocating but in the end, human resilience prevails. The masses, through a continuous struggle for freedom and equality from an oppressive system, will be liberated once and for all. (Hannah Valiente)
Mother and Child signed and dated 1998 (lower left) acrylic on paper 22 1/2" x 16" (57 cm x 41 cm) Accompanied by a certificate issued by Art Cube Gallery and signed by the artist confirming the authenticity of this lot PROVENANCE Art Cube Gallery
Untitled signed and dated 2015 (lower right) oil on wood 14 1/4" x 8 1/2" (36 cm x 22 cm) Leon Gallery wishes to thank the artist for confirming the authenticity of this lot PROVENANCE Art Cube Gallery
Dasal signed and dated 2014 (lower right) oil on wood 14 1/4" x 8 1/4" (36 cm x 21 cm) Leon Gallery wishes to thank the artist for confirming the authenticity of this lot PROVENANCE Art Cube Gallery
The Guitarman signed and dated 2006 (upper left) oil on canvas 30" x 20" (76 cm x 51 cm) Accompanied by a certificate signed by the artist confirming the authenticity of this lot Emmanuel Garibay’s The Guitarman may lack his characteristically sharp social critique but it is still imbued with the Filipino values rooted in sociology that permeate his works. “It is the richness of the poor that I am drawn to and which I am a part of, that I want to impart,” he had said and The Guitarman portrays that richness perfectly. In his expressionist figurative style, Garibay depicts a man cradling his beloved guitar, his eyes closed as his fingers slide down the fret and the strings. The guitar’s place in the national cultural consciousness goes unquestioned – for many (and especially for the working class and the masses), it is the first instrument they learn, perhaps even the only one. The family guitar passes from grandfather to father to son, nostalgic as it is the instrument they have used to woo their women. In the quiet of the night, one could hear the faint strumming of the guitar as a group of drinking men pass the time. Garibay’s The Guitarman is a reminder to take a respite from the fast-paced life. For many Filipinos (who are often joked to be naturally musically inclined), this rest means picking up a guitar to play a tune or two. Garibay portrays how everlasting the image of the guitar is in our culture and how one must enjoy the music the callused fingers pluck on the metal strings – with our eyes closed and hearts open, feeling every note and emotion from within. (Hannah Valiente)
Kapeng Kape signed and dated 2016 (lower left) oil on canvas 30" x 30" (76 cm x 76 cm) Accompanied by a certificate signed by the artist confirming the authenticity of this lot A noteworthy painting by Emmanuel Garibay, Kapengkape is not the usual Garibay composition imbued with powerful critiques of our prevailing social, economic, and political conditions. According to the artist, he was inspired to do the work after the stimulating sensation of drinking coffee. Garibay, a self-confessed coffee drinker, says that he consumes coffee frequently, particularly before embarking on another work of art or even while painting. When asked about his go-to drink, Garibay professed his fondness for Arabica coffee, which he says he loves for its distinct aroma. He even humorously followed this statement that his own golden rule for drinking coffee is “no sugar and creamer.” Beyond its personal value for Garibay, Kapengkape is a reminder of the gravitas that rest and relaxation hold, that from time to time, we must take a needed interlude of peace and quiet to bounce back from the vicissitudes of today’s living. However poignant it may be, the piece offers a gleaming hope of redeeming another day that is inherently imbued with struggles yet puts forward a promise that is fulfilling and transformative. Sometimes, all we need is a refreshing and invigorating cup of coffee (no sugar or creamer for Garibay!). (Adrian Maranan)
Lalong Dakila signed and dated 2007 (lower left) oil on wood 24 1/2" x 11" (62 cm x 28 cm) Leon Gallery wishes to thank the artist for confirming the authenticity of this lot
Putahe signed and dated 2007 (lower right) oil on wood 19" x 14" (48 cm x 36 cm) Leon Gallery wishes to thank the artist for confirming the authenticity of this lot PROVENANCE Blanc Gallery
Untitled signed and dated 2002 (lower left) acrylic on paper 18 1/2" x 12" (47 cm x 31 cm) Accompanied by a certificate issued by The Drawing Room and signed by the artist confirming the authenticity of this lot
Pilipino signed and dated 2012 (lower left) oil on canvas 72” x 54” (183 cm x 137 cm) EXHIBITED UP Jorge B. Vargas Museum, Walang Sinasanto: Emmanuel Garibay, Quezon City, February 13 - March 15, 2013 LITERATURE Flores, Patrick and Emmanuel Garibay. Walang Sinasanto: Emmanuel Garibay (Exhibition Catalog). Quezon City: UP Vargas Museum, 2013. Published on the occasion of the exhibition of the same name at the UP Vargas Museum in 2013. Full-color illustration and painting description on page 17. WRITE UPmonths later, Spain would callously cede the Philippines and its former territories to the US for 20 million dollars. In the events leading to the mock battle, Aguinaldo remained complacent. The Americans—and the Spanish—were practically encircled by Filipino troops. Why did Aguinaldo hesitate to take over the Walled City? That crucial period before the arrival of American reinforcements could have spelled victory for the Filipinos. Unfortunately, Aguinaldo, placing too much faith and reliance on the Americans as their allies against the Spanish, succumbed to Dewey’s request to “not attack Manila until the arrival of the troops from California,” as Joaquin succinctly puts it. Nationalist historian Renato Constantino writes in The Philippines: A Past Revisited: “Then, too, the importance of the palabra de honor of Spanish feudal tradition cannot be discounted. When important personages like Dewey and American diplomatic officials gave Aguinaldo their verbal assurance [of not colonizing the Philippines and aiding in the defeat of the Spanish], he accepted these as the word of honor of officers and gentlemen and, therefore, in accordance with Spanish tradition, as sacred and binding as any writte n contract.” In John R.M Taylor’s The Philippine Insurrection Against the United States (1971), Aguinaldo himself said: “…for I still trusted in the justice and rectitude of the Congress of the United States, that it would not approve the tendencies of the imperialistic party, and that it would heed the voice of Admiral Dewey, who, as a high representative of America in our Islands, had concerted and covenanted with me and the Filipino people the recognition of our independence.” Aguinaldo immediately went from making history to being engulfed by an oppressive history that was the American victory. Thus, Emmanuel Garibay presents a crucial chapter in our tragic story as a nation. Donned in americana, Aguinaldo holds a dog (an allusion to being a lapdog) and a basketball, signifying the country’s continuing heritage of parasitic alliance with that selfserving American imperialism that continues to plague our fragile nation, resulting in our oppressive situation as a neocolonial state. Now that we're at the end of our celebrations for the 125th anniversary of our “independence,” it is timely to ask: Are we ready to collectively mobilize towards the pearly gates of the state palace, dismantle its oppressive walls, and continue the march for national democracy? (Adrian Maranan)
Alok signed and dated 2012 (lower right) oil on canvas 60” x 40” (152 cm x 102 cm) EXHIBITED UP Jorge B. Vargas Museum, Walang Sinasanto: Emmanuel Garibay, Quezon City, February 13 - March 15, 2013 LITERATURE Flores, Patrick and Emmanuel Garibay. Walang Sinasanto: Emmanuel Garibay (Exhibition Catalog). Quezon City: UP Vargas Museum, 2013. Published on the occasion of the exhibition of the same name at the UP Vargas Museum in 2013. Full-color illustration and painting description on page 8. WRITE UP"Art should comfort the disturbed and disturb the comfortable.” Social realist Emmanuel Garibay subscribes to this adage. From his earliest work, Garibay’s art features the poor and downtrodden, narrating stories of hope and powerlessness. Born in Kidapawan, North Cotabato to a Methodist family, his deep concern for the poor was nurtured by his pastor father. As he draws inspiration from social, political, and economic situations of the country, his works take on numerous Biblical imagery. However, his paintings show not the Bible of the comfortable but the Bible of the oppressed. His 2012 work Alok carries his characteristic scathing wit. At the forefront stands a man, blue-eyed and clad in a snakeskin coat, in front of a burning pillared building. In his coat’s pocket sits a trapped dove and in his hands are an envelope and an apple. Almost immediately, one could enjoy the plethora of commentaries Garibay makes. The blue-eyed man could only represent a government official, draped in his snakeskin coat that represents deceit. The snake also represents the serpent that tempted Adam and Eve and triggered the fall of man from God, with this metaphor driven home by the apple in the man’s hand. The universal symbol of freedom, the dove, finds itself trapped within the snake, further trapped with the metaphorical money envelope. Garibay, as it seems, is making a pointed commentary on the Philippine’s political system and just like many of his works, Alok offers an abundance of social and religious symbolism that the viewer is sure to feast their eyes and minds on. (Hannah Valiente)
Emmanuel Garibay (b.1962) Tatay ni Tisay signed and dated 2015 (lower left) oil on wood 32 1/4” x 29” (82 cm x 74 cm) Accompanied by a certificate signed by the artist confirming the authenticity of this lot Emmanuel Garibay, the powerful visual storyteller, draws inspiration from an enduring story in Jose Rizal's 'Noli Me Tangere' in Tatay ni Tisay: the controversial story between Maria Clara and Padre Damaso. In Rizal's novel, Maria Clara is the illegitimate daughter of the story's main antagonist, the Franciscan Padre Damaso, who coerced Doña Pía Alba, Maria's mother, to have sexual relations with him to give the infertile Kapitan Tiago, her husband, a child. In the English translation of the Noli by Charles Derbyshire, Maria Clara is described as having eyes large, black, long-lashed, merry and smiling when she was playing but sad, deep, and pensive in moments of repose." Derbyshire continues, "Aunt Isabel ascribed her halfEuropean features to the longings of Doña Pia, whom she remembered to have seen many times weeping before the image of St. Anthony." There is an intriguing figure of a parrot in this piece, signifying how Padre Damaso "parrots" the word of God but, in reality, was an embodiment of a corrupted soul, a deceptive image of religion. Maria, who holds a white rose signifying her purity, is being offered by Padre Damaso an apple, likely alluding to the forbidden fruit from the “Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil” in the Genesis story. It symbolizes how the truth that Maria Clara had known all her life would be shattered by the inherent wickedness of her birth father, Damaso. (Adrian Maranan)
Emmanuel Garibay (b. 1962) Mag-Ina Sa Duyan signed (lower right)ca. 1990s oil on canvas 18 1/2" x 22" (47 cm x 56 cm) According to Emmanuel Garibay, Mag-Ina sa Duyan forms part of his early works; he painted the piece at some time during the early to mid-1990s. During that time, Garibay was a member of the Salingpusa Group. The Salingpusa counted among its original members Garibay, Elmer Borlongan, Jose John Santos III, Mark Justiniani, Antonio Leano, and Ferdie Montemayor, now stars in the contemporary Philippine art scene. An artists' collective that emerged in the years leading to the People Power Revolution of 1986, the Salingpusa was committed to creating art that resonates with the current social, political, and economic conditions of the Filipino nation. In the early 1990s, the Salingpusa, who had bonded in the name of art at Hinulugang Taktak in Antipolo and held weekend painting sessions, crossed paths with physician and art connoisseur Dr. Joven Cuanang, who invited them to the vast Silangan Gardens (now home to the Pinto Art Museum) of his weekend house in Antipolo for drawing sessions. Learning of their (financial) struggles as young artists, Dr. Cuanang then began organizing exhibitions of their works, known as the "sampayan," in which the Salingpusa artists would hang their paintings on clotheslines strung within the gardens for the physician's art-loving friends to choose from, helping the Salingpusa artists in gaining ground and forging their own paths. In a correspondence with Leon Gallery, Garibay says that the work at hand formed part of one of Dr. Cuanang's shows at the Silangan Gardens. Although he could not remember the name of the show anymore, it could be one of those "sampayan" exhibitions in the 90s. It brings us back to Garibay's budding years as an artist and how those dawning skies gradually brought him to the forefront of the Philippine art scene through his powerful visual storytelling. Mag-Ina sa Duyan is palpable proof of Garibay's compelling abilities as a storyteller, even in the early phase of his career, in which a single composition evokes myriad expressions and thoughts. Garibay depicts in the work at hand a heartwarming image of a mother and child relishing each other's sweet, endearing company, bonding over what seems to be an afternoon siesta (nap). The two are lying on a rattan duyan (cradle), a commonplace sight in a traditional Filipino home, especially in the provinces. The young boy sleeps in tranquility, with his relaxed body showing a child's placidness and confidence in their mother's nurturing arms. The mother sings a gentle lullaby for her child, evoking the beloved Filipino lullaby Sa Ugoy ng Duyan (1948), whose lyrics were written by Levi Celerio and music composed by Lucio San Pedro; both are National Artists for Music. The overall darkness of the composition's background stands in powerful contrast with the touching subject: a mother's soothing language of unwavering and nourishing love transcends all odds. It is our sanctuary, a safe refuge from the inhumanity of humanity. In a work that sees the convergence of music and visual art, Garibay imbibes us with nostalgia and transports us into the halcyon days of our childhood, making us long for our mothers' warm embrace and her comforting lullaby that alleviated the physical pains of childhood play, brought us to a cozy sleep, and calmed our naïve tantrums and innocent meltdowns. That being so, duyan becomes an allegory for the blissful hours of yesteryear—nais kong matulog sa dating duyan ko, Inay. This is the power of Garibay's art— the compelling ability to touch the collective Filipino soul with unvarnished sincerity (Adrian Maranan)
Emmanuel Garibay (b. 1962) Garalgal signed and dated 2006 (lower right) oil on paper 26" x 36" (67 cm x 91 cm) We see Garibay's familiarity and intimacy with the masses' undertakings and leisure in these two strikingly similar pieces depicting drunken men indulgin g in booze and tunes. They are ubiquitous scenes in the streets and alleys of both the urban and provincial domains. The works unmistakably capture one of the everyday realities of the ordinary Filipino: music drowns the struggling soul while liquor temporarily alleviates and washes suffering away. Beyond drinking as a collective recreation, Garibay professes that it is in the ordinary people where the true Filipino collective soul can be found, bound by struggles and that shared yearning towards personal and societal betterment. We see leisure as a form of socio-political resistance, a necessary act to reinvigorate one's revolutionary spirit for tomorrow's struggles, and the continued assertion of rights and influence on radical societal change. With his unvarnished realism, Garibay exhibits his affinity and empathy for the underprivileged and shows that the masses possess an inherent kind of soul and humanity rooted in their earnest solidarity in all their pursuits and interests. (Adrian Maranan)
Emmanuel Garibay (b. 1962) Hilik signed and dated 2005 (lower left) oil on canvas 30 1/2" x 24 1/2" (78 cm x 63 cm) At a very young age, Emmanuel Garibay was already exposed to the masses' everyday realities, banalities, and vibrancies. Although born in Kidapawan, North Cotabato, Garibay spent the halcyon days of his childhood in Davao City. There, he profoundly immersed himself in the everyday activities, pursuits, and leisure of the common people. In his journey towards maturity, Garibay enrolled at the UP Los Baños, taking up Sociology. His studies introduced him to the various nuances of the human person and how society—its institutions and articulation of numerous cultural, political, social, and economic expressions— impacts the dynamics of human relationships and their place and role in society. This fortuitous venture would deeply influence his art in the years to come. Garibay would not merely confine his learnings within the four corners of the classroom."There were times when we skipped class and proceeded to Mendiola to rally… The students whom I interacted with were using their art to epitomize the suffering and realism of the time," he says in an interview with Christiane L. de la Paz and published in the article "The Quintessential ArtistStoryteller: Emmanuel Garibay" in Artes de las Filipinas. (Adrian Maranan)
Emmanuel Garibay (b. 1962) Gunita signed and dated 2010 (lower left) oil on canvas 72" x 48" (182 cm x 122 cm) Emmanuel Garibay created Gunita in 2010 in anticipation of the 150th anniversary of the birth of our national hero, Dr. Jose Rizal, who was born on June 19, 1861, hence the work’s title, which translates to “remembrance.” A solemn commemoration. An enduring homage. A continuing struggle. Gunita formed part of Garibay’s 2010 show at the Boston Art Gallery titled “Habang Papalayo,” in which he tackled compelling themes surrounding our collective identity and shared history. Garibay makes us ponder: Do we, as a nation, continue to enshrine the value of selfdetermination handed to us by our valiant ancestors? The work at hand brings to mind an iconic photograph of Rizal taken during the 1890s. It is ubiquitously found everywhere: in classrooms, museums, government offices, postcards, stamps, books, and even art. It signifies that Rizal is omnipresent; Rizal lives in the struggling farmers fighting for genuine agrarian reform and national industrialization, the exploited workers clamoring for livable wages and humane working conditions, the militant youth fighting for a nationalist, scientific, and mass-oriented education, the fisherfolks lobbying for a reformed fisheries program, the environmentalists calling for the protection and sustainable development of the environment, and all Filipinos yearning to be emancipated from the exploitation and enslavement brought by the ills of successive regimes that continue to be subservient to its foreign oppressors. Rizal exemplifies, and Garibay professes, our crucial role in arousing, organizing, and mobilizing the greater number of people to march for genuine sovereignty. Rizal’s contributions to the awakening of national consciousness in the late 19th-century Philippines that would culminate in the Philippine revolution against Spain and the nation’s subsequent independence are unequivocal and irrefutable. His enduring legacy is immortalized through his writings, particularly the Noli and the El Fili—his art. As we anticipate the 127th anniversary of Rizal’s martyrdom on December 30, Garibay’s Gunita is a fitting reminder not only of Rizal’s legacy; he was a victim of state persecution. Thus, the power toward liberation from systemic oppression lies in our potent collective action. We might ask ourselves: How far have we come, and how far are we willing to pursue to safeguard this nation? (Adrian Maranan)
Man with Guitar signed and dated 2006 (lower right) acrylic on paper 26” x 18” (66 cm x 46 cm) Accompanied by a certificate signed by the artist confirming the authenticity of this lot
Liyab signed and dated 2016 (lower right) oil on wood 24" x 12" (61 cm x 30 cm) Fire has long been associated with enlightenment, transformation, and purification. In the Bible, the descent of the Holy Spirit upon the Apostles in the form of tongues of fire symbolized the start of their mission to proclaim the Gospel to the Gentiles. In Greek philosophy, fire represents energy and passion. There is also this myth of Prometheus, who stole fire from the gods and gave it to humans, endowing them with intelligence and civilization. In simple cooking, fire transforms food from its crude, unprocessed, and unpurified state into something that sustains and nourishes humanity’s survival. Fire is also associated with destruction. And it is in this affiliation that Emmanuel Garibay steers this work titled Liyab. Here, the artist depicts a woman with long brown hair and an aloof facial expression. She wears a white dress and holds a burning paper. Is it a letter from a past lover? Is it a hidden page from her diary? Does it contain dark secrets about her personal life? But it remains clear that the woman wants to burn things from her past that she no longer wants to be associated with. Her cold expression shows that she is without remorse in alienating her past from her present and even her future. In this regard, Garibay shows fire’s beautiful contradiction: a destructive force that engenders something renewed, resurrected, and revitalized. The composition is like a window or an enchanted mirror in which one can peek through the thoughts and emotions of the subject. As such, Garibay, the compelling storyteller, offers a multitude of perspectives in this thought-provoking piece. (A.M.)
a. Suri signed and dated 2002 (lower right) mixed media on paper 16" x 11 1/4" (41 cm x 29 cm) b. Lobo signed and dated 2002 (lower center) mixed media on paper 16" x 11 1/4" (41 cm x 29 cm)
Dakila signed and dated 2012 (lower right) oil on canvas 48" x 48" (122 cm x 122 cm) EXHIBITED UP Jorge B. Vargas Museum, Walang Sinasanto: Emmanuel Garibay, Quezon City, February 13 - March 15, 2013 LITERATURE Flores, Patrick and Emmanuel Garibay. Walang Sinasanto: Emmanuel Garibay (Exhibition Catalog). Quezon City: UP Vargas Museum, 2013. Published on the occasion of the exhibition of the same name at the UP Vargas Museum in 2013. Full-color photograph and painting description on page 16. When Garibay did “Dakila” (Great) in 2012, the sesquicentennial of Rizal's birth had passed. But it was connected in some way to the earlier work “Bagumbayan” because despite the different contexts, there are similarities with the visual devices. Rizal reemerges again with his “dejected look.” According to Garibay, “his subconscious decided what it is going to look like. In my pantheon of heroes, Rizal is at the top. But this work celebrates courage, boldness and decisiveness in leading the resistance against colonialism. And that is why Andres Bonifacio is the guy who takes the center stage. Maybe Rizal is not too happy being relegated at the side.” True enough, the dominant image in this large work was President Bonifacio, the Father of the Filipino Nation and the Instigator of the Philippine Revolution. The sun design of his war standard acts as his halo. He is flanked by Apolinario Mabini, the brains of the First Philippine Republic on one side, and José Rizal on the other, holding his written works. Below Bonifacio is a crucified image, face covered with white which symbolizes a self-denying oblation, which for Garibay signified self-giving, the virtue of the offering of the self, or oblation. This is not just pertaining to Bonifacio but for all heroes of the revolution. This is heightened by the image of a hand with a piece of torn paper, perhaps the tax certificate or the cedula which was destroyed at the first cry of the revolution, a life and death decision for many of them as it was a requirement in checkpoints, and thus a visual manifestation from the people denoting that they were ready to give their lives to fight. Near the hand are the colors red, yellow and green, which look like fire. For me, it symbolizes the passion of our revolutionaries. The two women prominent in the painting, one holding a rifle and the other holding a flag, are symbolic of all women in the revolution and do not represent any particular figure. For Garibay, “History is always about brave men, women often are overlooked.” The figures were there “To emphasize that women have always played an active role.” So they can be your Tandang Sora, Gregoria de Jesus, Trinidad Tecson, Teresa Magbanua, Josephine Bracken and Marcela Marcelo. In fact, the revolutionary holding a rifle was reminiscent of his earlier work “Gabriela.” The flag, contrary to historical record, has a white field instead of red, and has the triangle design with a baybayin “K” inside. Although these were Katipunan symbols, they look more like the emblem of the 1960s Kabataang Makabayan. Apparently, in the mid-80s he was involved with a group called Artista Ng Bayan (People’s Artists). Garibay said that it forms part of his personal history and the recurrence of the symbol is understandable.” For me, it tells us that although the Philippine Revolution has ended, the fight for a better nation continues. In many ways, Garibay is a nation-builder. Towards the end of our conversation, he says to me, “There’s always a striving on my part to look for something that really defines our collective identity, looking for symbols, representations that could help in that direction.” by Prof. Michael Charleston “Xiao” Briones Chua 04 May 2023, Taal Vista Lodge, Tagaytay City
Bagumbayan signed and dated 2010 (lower right) acrylic on handmade paper 23 1/4" x 18 1/2" (59 cm x 47 cm) It is no surprise that Garibay has always depicted those that struggled to gain our freedom, both the known and the ordinary, for he continually seeks to celebrate the virtues and qualities of heroism. In Bagumbayan, he has painted an image of José Rizal in 2010, seemingly in anticipation of his 150th birthday the next year. It is a smaller work from his usual oeuvre on a piece of paper. Rizal, his big face depicted in a cubist manner has a “dejected look.” Owing to the title, Bagumbayan, it can be assumed that he is represented that way because this was a man on his way to his death. In conversation with Garibay, we discover, it can mean more than that. Garibay said he wanted to make the viewer feel the humanity of our heroes. His “dejected look” was because Rizal was “too affected by the sad conditions in your country. Who wouldn’t feel dejected?” For me, like what leaders usually say, “the top job is lonely.” It denotes him being a solitary figure as national hero of the Philippines in death and even in life. Garibay said, “Even in Europe, Rizal had the tendency to isolate himself. He thought differently and had a contradictory kind of personality, a complex personality.” As a writer, Rizal would tend to be alone and even had occasional quarrels with his very own friends. It can be said that among our heroes, Rizal was the sadboi, to use a contemporary term. Sure, and despite his loneliness, he produced two novels—the Noli Me Tangere and the El Filibusterismo that helped make us feel we were united in a common suffering, and therefore united us to become a nation.
Payong signed and dated 2001 (lower right) oil on canvas 24" x 24" (61 cm x 61 cm) Accompanied by a certificate signed by the artist confirming the authenticity of this lot In this work titled Payong, Emmanuel Garibay harkens back to the iconic 1972 Larawan Series of Benedicto Cabrera, in which images inspired by colonial photographs take the centerpiece. Interestingly, Garibay admits to having been influenced by Bencab, especially in the style and essence of this particular piece. Garibay depicts a woman clothed in the traditional baro’t saya with a bandana wrapped around her head. She is seen holding an umbrella, with her facial expression showing vigilance. Garibay says that the umbrella represents “the idea of protection.” He expounds that the composition does not evoke a situation of defenselessness but an image of inner character and innate strength. Drawing influence from the nature of Bencab’s Larawan Series, Garibay revamps the image of the Filipino woman, who, for the longest time, has been traditionally encapsulated by Jose Rizal’s tragic heroine, the meek Maria Clara. The woman in the painting exudes defiance, dignity, and confidence in her capability of defending and safeguarding herself from repressive forces; she is undeterred by the oppressive elements women are subjected to in a patriarchal society and successive regimes that ostracize the legitimate concerns of the marginalized. The work is an affirmation of Garibay’s continued fostering of the Filipina disposition: dauntless and independent. Vladimir Lenin once wrote: “Women may be bound twice in a nation struggling for freedom, but women in the struggle are women unbound.” (A.M.)
Mother and Child signed (lower right) acrylic on paper 28" x 22" (71 cm x 56 cm) PROVENANCE Private Collection, Antipolo City When Emmanuel Garibay temporarily veers away from his thoughtprovoking works dissecting the dark and harsh side of Philippine reality, the eminent social realist explores and fosters Filipino values rooted in our history and traditions as a people. Simply titled Mother and Child, this particular piece depicts a familiar and much-loved scene in Philippine art. Owing to his Christian upbringing, in which the image of the Blessed Mother and the Child Jesus is part and parcel of the faith, Garibay imbibes the image of a mother and child with much veneration and exaltation. Garibay depicts a child tenderly clinging to his beloved mother, who in turn affectionately wraps her arms around her child in the act of care and protection. Garibay’s expressionist faculty is unleashed through his employment of bold brushstrokes and strong colors, resulting in a visually compelling work that shows the incorruptible intimacy and the life-giving and lifenurturing interdependence between a mother and her child. (A.M.)
Emmanuel Garibay (b. 1962) Woman with Guitar signed and dated 2007 (lower right) pastel on paper 25” x 18” (64 cm x 46 cm) Accompanied by a certificate signed by the artist confirming the authenticity of this lot
