FOREMOST KAPAMPANGAN artist Andy Alviz won the Best Original Theme Song at the recent Summer Metro Manila Film Festival for his composition Paralaya of the movie Apag.
Paralaya (towards Arayat, in Kapampangan) is the cover of an acoustic album produced by Alviz with his ArtiSta. Rita in 2007. In celebration of his triumph — and the Kapampangan too — I am re-sharing here this piece published in a Punto issue nearly 16 years ago.
THEIR MUSIC seared the psyche of a race long in search of its forgotten greatness: its culture maculated by the infusion of alien influences, its virtues devalued by the immoralities of flawed saviors, its very existence imperiled by nature’s rage.
That was ArtiSta.Rita, composed of home-grown talents shepherded by a Kapampangan returnee from London’s West End, when it exploded into the local scene a few years back with its maiden album. Kapampangan Ku, the title song, defined the very identity of the race and inspired a celebration of everything Kapampangan, from the cultural to the culinary, from the historical to the mythical.
It did not come as any surprise then that in this May’s elections (2007), it was Kapampangan Ku that likewise defined the very outcome of the gubernatorial contest.
In its third outing, ArtiSta.Rita went beyond romancing the Kapampangan character: Paralaya is a communion with the Kapampangan soul. The spirituality of the race is celebrated here, even in the most mundane and ordinary of places, things and events.
Can anything be extraordinary in that ubiquitous roadside sign Abe Pakakalale? The simple caution for motorists to slow it down is lifted to the high moral plane of right over wrong in treading the very road of life – “dadalan kami king yatu,” to the ultimate destination – “parasan mi balen nang indu.”
Akasya starts with but immediately transcends imaginings of Joyce Kilmer’s famous ode to the tree, and assumes the very manifestation of the Creator Himself, cherishing and nurturing all of creation – “Lingap mu’t lugud king labuad/Sasalbag babie kang bie kanakung abe.”
The search for life’s meaning that takes one to great distances and greater longings only to find it within oneself, if only one opened his heart – so celebrated in Paulo Coelho’s novels, most notably in The Alchemist – finds a fuller, and deeper, expression in Pamanuli — “Nung nukarin mengaparas/Ikwang mengalampas-lampas/Atiu ka pala keni king lele/Kakung matimyas.” Life’s journey ends where it starts – with the Lord.
And then, oneness with Him. Stirrings from the prophet Isaiah, resonate in Abe Mu Ku – “Abe mu ku nukarin ka man/Abe mu ku kapilan man/Ala ng muna pa/King lugud ku keka/Abe mu ku kakung kaluguran.”
Indeed, there is more to moonlight than Eros. Bulan provides an uplift to the spirit eclipsed in the darkness of despair – “Potang malungkut ka/Potang tatakut ka/Potang paintunan mu ku/Lumwal ka, talanga ka/Akit me ing bulan a masala/Karin mikit kata.”
The human spirit rises higher with man’s affirmation of God’s guiding light in Siwala – “Ing kekang s’wala diren nakung sala/Dala ne ning angin iadwang king batwin/Ing kekang s’wala diren nakung sala/King isip at pusu, kapasnawan.”
Penitential lamentation, so inhered in the praxis of Kapampangan Catholicism, naturally finds expression in Aduan Ku Mu – “Aduan ku namu Keka O Ginu/Katmuan Mu la ding kakulangan ku at antabayanan king gulu/Bustan Mu sa’ng mibayu ing karokang gewa ku/Lawen Mu sa kakung lugud daraun ku O Ginu.”
Two selections that pay homage to the father and the teacher still do adhere to the album’s general theme of the soul, of man’s pining for the divine: God after all is Father and Teacher to man.
To win his future, a young man looks back at his past and sings a song of gratitude to his father in Tatang Kung Kaluguran – “Ngeni maragul na ku, ladlad ku no ring pakpak ku/Sulapo na king angin sapul sapul king lupa ku/Mangaparas man nukarin, ing lugud mu atyu pa rin/Dakal a salamat tatang, king masanting a daratang.”
Mayap a Oras gives recognition to the hardships of the talaturu in moulding the mind of the youth – “Migigising kang maranun/Obra ing isipan/Mananggang gatpanapun/Babie mu ing eganaganang/Lugud at sala/ A manibat king pusu/Kabiasnan at kebaluan/Ika ing tuturu.”
As the Kapampangan is a lover, so some love songs are a must in an album expressive of his soul.
Bayung Bengi, Bayung Sinta sings of the lovers’ anticipation of an early evening tryst, of the stars watching over a love ever renewed – “Pagtiririn tala ding batwing masala/King bulalako metung ku mu adwan/Eka sa tatabili gamat pakatalan.”
The angst, the fears, the insecurities of the torpe at seeing the object of his repressed affections are played to life in the carrier single Paralaya — “Dakal ku buring sabian keka/E ku balu nung atuan daka…Nung balu mu mung malwat ku nang sasalikut/Ing panamdaman, pansinan mu naku man…Alub kung makiagnan king kakung palsintan.”
On the wings of song, cliched yes but that is the experience one gets with the blend of the musical accompaniment that enhanced poetry, if not the purity, of the lyrics.
Thanks to Andy Alviz and all those great artists, Paralaya set me on a personal journey to get to my Kapampangan core.
(Zona Libre/Punto! November 5, 2007)
