The Market Monitor Minding the Nation's Business
By Nikki Garde-Torres / Photos by Alvin I. Dacanay
First of two parts
Last July 17, the 12th Virgin Labfest (VLF) ended with the usual mix of tears, hugs, laughter, and tumultuous applause. Tradition dictated that the titles of the three plays to be “revisited”—that is, restaged—next year be announced, and they were indeed announced: Ang Sugilanon ng Kabiguan ni Epefania (The Sugilanon of Epefania’s Heartbreak), Ang Bata sa Drum (The Boy in the Drum), and Mula sa Kulimliman (From Gloom).
Tradition also dictated that, at the end of the Labfest, the start of the 13th edition will be announced. And this indeed happened with the call for entries for VLF 13.
Tradition did not call for a marriage proposal to happen at the final curtain call. But the people of the Labfest are nothing if not flexible, and when a young man asked permission to get down on his knees and propose to a woman who acted in one of the plays performed that final night, he was permitted amid much giggling.
Much has been said about the works of the VLF. Reviews in the print media, online, and on social networking sites have abounded. And while it is true that some of the plays were technically better than the rest, that some tugged at the heartstrings while others were far more cerebral, and still others shone because of the brilliance of the cast, perhaps, the truest gauge of the festival’s success is its adherence to its objectives.
So what really is the VLF?
As has been reiterated ad nauseam, the VLF is a festival of untried, untested and unstaged plays. It is three weeks of testing, of getting formal and informal feedback from an audience. It involves two months of reviewing the script, of collaborations with the creative and production staff, of frantic scrambling.
But is this all there is to the festival? What is it about the Labfest that has now brought two young men to their knees to propose to their beloved? What is it about the festival that brings actors from theater, television and film to the Cultural Center of the Philippines (CCP) for weeks of rehearsal, with very little financial remuneration?
What is it about the VLF that drives directors from all genres of the performing arts and audiovisual media to ask for the privilege of handling a play? And for young stage managers to send their applications by the dozens? And most significantly, why did an unbelievable 197 people send their scripts?
And really, with hundreds, even thousands of tried-and-tested works available, why even bother with new works?
To answer this, one must, perhaps, look at the history of the festival.
In 1989, the Writer’s Bloc was born in the hallowed halls of the Philippine Educational Theater Association (Peta). Under the leadership of the late playwright Carlos “Charley” de la Paz, writers would gather to have their works read and critiqued. Among them was the late, great Palanca Hall of Fame awardee Rene O. Villanueva. On at least one occasion, in celebration of these works, Peta staged them as truly bare-bones productions at the Rajah Sulayman Theater in Fort Santiago, Intramuros.
Time and history interfered and, for better or worse, the Writer’s Bloc left Peta and became an independent organization in 2004. The group’s work continued under the strong leadership of Rody Vera. Playwrights continued to come from far and near, just to have their scripts read and critiqued.
To be concluded next Monday
Nikki Garde-Torres is the production manager of the Virgin Labfest. She has been involved in the festival since 2006.