What is art? What is freedom of expression?
My initial knee-jerk reaction to those who were against Mideo Cruz’s art work (which I have personally seen for myself before all this hullabaloo and vandalization occurred) was simple: irritation.
But then religious groups threatened to sue the CCP and the artist. People started tweeting and posting on their Facebook status that freedom of expression has limits, and that art should respect other people’s sensibilities. Imelda Marcos jumped into the fray. And my blood began to boil. Who are these neo-fascists? Who are they to be the arbiters of truth? And who said art is only what’s true, good and beautiful?
But then I decided to step back and ask myself. Is it still art if it offends my sensibilities? Because I’m not too religious these days, Mideo’s exhibit didn’t shock me one bit; in fact, I was quite blase (or at the most, mildly amused) by the whole thing. In fact, I thought that the exhibit was too unsubtle, too obvious, too in-your-face (I’m just more partial to art that’s subtle and forces you to think). But it obviously offended others.
So I wondered how I’d react if someone came up with a painting or an exhibit that depicted gay activists like Harvey Milk and Larry Kramer in Nazi uniforms. Or showing an all-male orgy (wherein everyone’s engaged in unsafe sex) happening inside what is clearly an Auschwitz gas chamber.
If I were to be perfectly honest, I’d personally be offended. And while I do think that the artist has the right to exhibit his works, I would then worry about how this piece of art work can affect others who view it. What if it incites a viewer to further discriminate against homosexuals? How would I react if someone beside me says, “Ay, oo nga. Salot nga ang mga bakla sa lipunan.”
Let’s step down from high art and go to popular art. What if there’s a popular song sung by an act that’s popular and well-loved? What if instead of a pro-gay song like “Jay,” the Eraserheads (stay with me on this one, this is obviously a “what if”) came out with, “Bakla, Bakla, Bakit Ka Pa Ginawa?” Or a daily teleserye that depicted several gay characters as pedophiles preying on tweens and teens?
Then I’d really worry about those works spreading a message of intolerance and hate.
Let us widen the scope further. How about allowing a painting that depicts Filipinos as mere domestic helpers and scavengers, circling a billiard table in a layout replicating the “dogs playing billiards” scene which we see in so many Saudi-made pop paintings? What about a sculpture that shows Malakas and Maganda as pole-dancing sex workers, except the poles are made of bamboo? How would we feel if the works were done by a Filipino artist? Or will those feelings change if they were done by a foreigner?
But are they art? What if the paintings are excellently-crafted, the use of colors and its composition flawless? What if the songs are very catchy, melodically perfect and lyrically witty and crafty? What if the medium is excellent, and the only thing that offends me is the message? Will I be as cavalier in saying, “They’re free to say whatever they want”?
I know myself enough to say that I will never go out of my way in vandalizing any painting or sculpture. And I will most probably not buy any record or refuse to watch a particular program that I personally find offensive. But can I demand that radio stations not play the song because it not only offends my sensibilities, it spreads hatred towards gays? If I get all the gays on Planet Romeo and Grindr combined to sign a petition asking that all radio stations pull out “Bakla, Bakla, Bakit Ka Pa Ginawa?” from their playlist, are we then guilty of bullying and censorship?
Perhaps one can raise the argument that those kinds of pieces, whether painting or music or performance, are not “art” but rather “propaganda.” So we go back to my first question: what is art? And who died and made Imelda or the Catholic Church “God of All That Is Art?”
Leni Rienfenstahl’s Triumph of the Will is a film commissioned by Adolf Hitler himself that showed the 1934 Nazi party rally. It is called a propaganda film, and yet Rienfenstahl’s use of film “techniques, such as moving cameras, the use of long focus lenses to create a distorted perspective, aerial photography, and revolutionary approach to the use of music and cinematography, have earned Triumph recognition as one of the greatest films in history.” That the film has artistic merit is clear; that it was also seen as promoting Hitler’s cause is also clear. And we all know what happened after Hitler’s rise to power.
Whether or not we get a precise definition of art, in the end what is clear to me is this. If we are to espouse freedom of expression, if we are to respect other people’s ideas even if they go directly against our beliefs, then we must be ready to allow others to offend us with their art as well.
That’s the price of democracy.
