Issuu on Google+

PHILIPPINES


WorldMags.net

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

CONTENTS DEC-JAN 2014

VO L . 3   ‡   N O. 3

19 ESQ&A Bob Ong, the bestselling author, gets the spotlight on the eve of the filmization of his first book, and reveals to JEROME GOMEZ his thoughts on fame, nostalgia and why he continues to remain faceless.

26 WHAT I’VE LEARNED (FROM BOOKS) Truths and lessons from a lifetime of reading By SASHA MARTINEZ

32 FUNNY JOKE FROM A BEAUTIFUL WOMAN As told by TRICIA CENTENERA

48 FUN ON WHEELS We celebrate cars that focus on driving enjoyment minus the hefty price tag By JASON DELA CRUZ

61 STYLE The shoe of the moment, plus meeting David Gandy, and the clothes and personal effects you need to appropriate the signature looks of style icons like Steve McQueen and JFK.

110 THE QUIET BEFORE THE STORM He gave fair warning of Yolanda’s rage, but did anybody listen? Mahar Lagmay, our nation’s forecaster of disaster, accounts for the last days before the landfall. By AUDREY CARPIO

6 E S Q U I R E D E C -JA N 2 0 14

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

CONTENTS DEC-JAN 2014

VO L . 3   ‡   N O. 3

114 LAND OF THE MOURNING Five days after the Visayas was struck by the strongest typhoon ever recorded, Esquire writer-at-large PATRICIA EVANGELISTA flew to Tacloban City, Leyte, to report on the aftermath.

133 THE MEANING OF LIFE Whether in the midst of storms literal or metaphorical, of situations God-wrought or of their own making, these were the people who stuck in our heads. Welcome to our third annual What I’ve Learned Special.

150 THE PORK ESTATE Ladies and gentlemen, this is where your taxes went. Photographs by TIM SERRANO

160 ESQUIRE’S NIGHTOUT We all could use a drink or two these days. And it just so happens there hasn’t been this many options to do just that. The Esquire staff ventured into the Manila night scene and returned with stories of nostalgia, flirtation and escape.

168 STONE-COLD DROP-DEAD FK-YOU CONFIDENCE The killer overcoat, the perfect suit, the unexpected accent, Benedict Cumberbatch (of Sherlock, Star Trek, and so much more) shows how any man can up his stature with some wellchosen clothes. Photographs by JULIAN BROAD

8 E S Q U I R E D E C -JA N 2 0 14

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net BEFORE WE BEGIN

A NOTE FROM THE EDITORS

10 E S Q U I R E D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4

It would be easy for us to look away. Now more than ever, it would be more convenient to distract ourselves from the unsettling realities that the recent typhoon has made apparent to us by telling ourselves that we are resilient, and just accept our leaders’ pronouncements that everything is going all right—in fact, that everything is already all right. After all, we like our narratives to have closure, if not happy endings. We can even fool ourselves into believing that by looking too hard and too long at the tragedies that befall us we are indulging something prurient in ourselves, that we are in fact exploiting those that have been afflicted the most by the disaster. (Of course to make a distinction between “us and them” is most telling of all, the usu-

al trick of the xenophobic.) Which would ease our discomfort whenever we choose to look away, because it would help us to think and convince ourselves that these things should not be looked at. But the fact remains that no matter how much we’ve already seen or read, we haven’t seen or read enough. If there’s anything that we’ve learned in the course of making this issue, it’s that people want their stories to be told. We know this because they’ve told us so. They want to be heard; they don’t want to be forgotten. And we feel it is our duty to bear witness. If only we had enough pages to accommodate them all. There’s a refrain from an old punk song by legendary Filipino band The Wuds that goes: “Sana hindi minsan ko lang ito tingnan…” It is our hope that we always do.

WorldMags.net

P H OTO G R A P H BY JA K E V E R ZOSA

DECEMBER - JANUARY 2014


WorldMags.net

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net CONTRIBUTORS DECEMBER - JANUARY 2014

1

2

3

1 Patricia Evangelista has been covering human rights, disaster and conflict stories for the last five years. She is the co-creator and executive producer of the acclaimed documentary series Storyline, a staff reporter for multimedia news agency Rappler, and a writer-at-large here in Esquire. She spent 18 days in Tacloban, and wrote the cover story for this issue.

12 E S Q U I R E D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4

2 Jake Verzosa’s portraits of the last tattooed women of Kalinga were exhibited in the Niepce Musem’s collection in France. He’s been shooting for 10 years, and his documentary works have been exhibited in Amsterdam, Singapore, Cambodia, Japan, Denmark and recently Korea. Jake spent nine days covering the aftermath of Tacloban.

3 Carlo Gabuco has had solo and group exhibits around the Philippines, Singapore and Malaysia. It was the 2001 EDSA Revolution that sparked his interest in documentary photography. Carlo spent one week shooting in Tacloban.

WorldMags.net

4 Tim Serrano is a portrait and landscape photographer whose pictures of the ‘NGOs’ linked to the pork barrel scam are in this month’s The Pork Estate. “Doing the story was disheartening and vexing,” says Tim. “It’s different reading about this issue in the news and actually going out and personally taking a look at these places. I felt this great sense of discontent.”

P O R T R A I T O F PAT R I C I A E VA N G E L I S TA TA K E N B Y C A R L O G A B U C O

4


WorldMags.net

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net BEFORE WE BEGIN DECEMBER - JANUARY 2014

EDITOR IN CHIEF ASSOCIATE EDITOR FEATURES EDITOR

Erwin Romulo

Luis Katigbak D E P U T Y M A N A G I N G E D I T O R Jonty Cruz Audrey N. Carpio S E N I O R W R I T E R Jerome Gomez E D I T O R I A L A S S I S T A N T Kara Ortiga ART

ART DIRECTOR

Ces Olondriz A S S O C I A T E

ART DIRECTOR

Edric dela Rosa

FA SH ION FA SH ION DI R E C T OR

Raymond Gutierrez š  < 7 I > ? E D  < ; 7 J K H ; I  ; : ? J E H Clifford Olanday EDITORS AT LARGE FA SH ION

Liz Uy š  < ; 7 J K H ; I Sarge Lacuesta WRITERS AT LARGE

Patricia Evangelista, Gang Badoy, Lourd de Veyra, Oliver X.A. Reyes, Philbert Dy, Yvette Tan F O O D A N D D R I N K S Erwan Heussaff B U S I N E S S Roel Landingin B O O K S Sasha Martinez CONTRIBUTORS

Jason A. dela Cruz, Gerard Jude Castillo, JB Brizuela, Nana Caragay, Danton Remoto, Michaelangelo Samson, Daryll Delgado, Joel Salud, Francezca Kwe P H O T O G R A P H E R S Tim Serrano, Miguel Nacianceno, Carlo Gabuco, Jake Verzosa, Edric Chen, Jason Quibilan, Paul del Rosario, Joseph Pascual I L L U S T R A T O R S Jo Aguila, Alysse Asilo, Tof Zapanta WRITERS

HEA RST M AGA ZINES INTER NATIONA L

Duncan Edwards Senior Vice President, CFO and General Manager Simon Horne Senior Vice President/ Director of Licensing and Business Development Gautam Ranji Senior Vice President/International Publishing Director Jeannette Chang Senior Vice President/Editorial Director Kim St. Clair Bodden Creative Director Peter Yates Executive Editor: Tony Gervino Fashion and Entertainment Director Kristen Ingersoll Senior International Editions Editor Luis Veronese PR E SI DE N T/ C E O :

ESQUIRE INTERNATIONAL EDITIONS

China Li Xiang Colombia Francisco J. Escobar S. Czech Republic Jiri Roth Greece Kostas N. Tsitsas Hong Kong Cho Man Wai Indonesia Dwi Sutarjantono Kazakhstan Andrey Zharkov Korea Heesik Min Latin America Manuel Martínez Torres Malaysia Sam Coleman Middle East Jeremy Lawrence Netherlands Arno Kantelberg Philippines Erwin Romulo Romania Radu Coman Russia Dmitry Golubovsky Singapore Sam Coleman Spain Andrés Rodriguez Taiwan Steve Chen Thailand Panu Burusratanapant Turkey Okan Can Yantir United Kingdom Alex Bilmes Ukraine Alexey Tarasov Vietnam Nguyen Thanh Nhan United States David Granger

EDITORS IN CHIEF

President and General Manager

Lisa Y. Gokongwei-Cheng

PUBLISHER Aurora Mangubat-Suarez VP FOR OPER ATIONS Hansel dela Cruz DEPUTY GROUP PUBLISHER Ichi Apostol-Acosta PUBLISHING ASSIST. Margaret Garcia EDITORIAL DIRECTOR Jo-Ann Maglipon, Myrza Sison Admin. SERVICES MANAGER Whilma M. Lopez SR. ADMINISTR ATIVE ASSISTANT Michiel Lumabi, Marlyn Miguel ADMINISTR ATIVE ASSISTANT Lalaine Bernardo A DV ERTISING

Group Advertising Director Florence Bienvenido Advertising Director-Key Accounts Group Regie Uy Key Accounts Specialist Joey Anciano, Joyce Argana, Cha Clarino, Junn De Las Alas, Alex Revelar, Annie Santos, Suzette Tolentino Advertising Group Manager Torto Canga Sr. Account Manager Jerry Cabauatan, AR Kuo, Andi Trinidad Jr. Account Manager Rissa Mesina, Aizza Tajonera Advertising Assistant Kimberley Dula Advertising Traffic Supervisor Eliziel del Rio Advertising Traffic Assistant Arthur C. Villaflor PRODUCTION

Production Manager Eliz Rellis Assistant Production Manager Jane Puno Production Coordinator Bong Carolino Cover Artist Arthur Asturiano MEDIA R ELATIONS AND PROMOTIONS

Jr. Marketing Associate Mary Princess Derit Media Relations Head Claire Algarme Media Relations Associate Jieneb Jamin Kho, Nikka Peralta Database Associate Joyce Tamayo EVENTS

Marketing Director Ramon Manzano III Assistant Marketing Manager Roberlin Rubina Project Officer Eduardo Almeda, Patricia Cordero, Joey Negrete Sr. Marketing Associate Ana Barretto, Carl Brion, Rica Lozada, Siena Mirano, Angela Padua Jr. Marketing Assoc. Carol Cruz, Alvin Paronda, Kath Vanguardia TR ADE MARKETING

Trade Marketing Associate Jamie Jean Islo, Daryl Lincod, Joyce Anne Ramos Trade Marketing Assistant Hannah Roque, Laline Taguiam Project Coordinator Mark Munoz, Rachelle Losenada Visual Merchandiser Elmon Villena CR EATIV E SERVICES

Editor In Chief Dondi Limgenco Creative Director Noel Azcueta Assistant Creative Director Iza Santos Managing Editor Denise Mallabo, Katrina Vinluan Asst. Managing Editor Janis Gopez, Pia Angelica Suiza, Diona Valdez Copy Writer Anne Krystle Malinis Art Director Ben Arnold, Cleone Baradas, Consuelo Cabrera, Jane Kristine Cruz, Cindy Dy, Alona Francisco, Dino de Ocampo Assoc. Art Director Jay Dimayuga Graphic Artist Clare Felise Magno, Anisa Privado CIRCULATION

Circulation Manager Alma M. Madelo Deputy National Circulation Manager Glenda Gil Circulation Manager - GMA Alaine Mae Lozada Provincial Sales Manager Alexis Martinez International Distribution Sales Specialist Ulyssis Javier Distribution Group Head - GMA Malou Rubinos Key Accounts - Group Head Noreen Peligro, Vivian Manahan Subscription Group Head Hanna Montecer Circulation Supervisor Mary Fatima Flores Newsstand Supervisor Joel Valdez Systems Administrator - Interactive Editons Rico B. Cruz Key Accounts Charlotte Barlis, Jinky Rose Calugtong, Edward Caringal, Arnaldo Lopez, Hazel Mardo, Jennifer Tolentino Jr. Sales Representatives - GMA John Lakhi Celso, Anjelyn Carino, Ruby Frias, Edilen Tomas Distribution Specialist Gilbert Caballero, Eric Ferdinand Gasatan, Ricarte Emmanuel Lorejo, Francis Daryl Molo, Gian Carlo Peralta, Roberto Revilla, Mark Elliott Villola Sales Representative Anjelyn Carino, Ed Caringal, John Celso Subscription Coordinator Joyce Ramos, Reigine Casido, Annalyn Armbulo Logistics Manager Norman Campo Distribution Account Analyst May Ann Ayuste Export Sales Assistant Legui Brylle Gonzales For GMA dealership/distributorship inquiries, contact Malou Rubinos at 451-8888 Local 1094. For Provincial dealership/distributorship inquiries, contact Glenda Gil at 451-8888 Local 8878. For International Distribution and Digital Edition inquiries, contact Legui Brylle P. Gonzales and Ulyssis Javier at 451-8888 Local 1092 or Direct Line (+632) 398-80-37. For back issues, contact Visual Mix (632) 824-09-47, Booksale (632) 824-09-59, and Filbars (632) 584-27-84 Under no circumstances shall ESQUIRE PHILIPPINES content be copied or reproduced in any form without the written permission of the publisher. ESQUIRE PHILIPPINES editors and publishers shall not be held liable for unsolicited materials. All prices and specifications published in this magazine are subject to change by manufacturers and retailers. Printed in the Philippines.

14 E S Q U I R E D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net BEFORE WE BEGIN DECEMBER - JANUARY 2014

CLICK HERE TO HELP It’s fair to say that we are at the point of technological advancement where text messages, tweets or Facebook posts have capabilities more important than was ever expected of them, as these media platforms have played an astounding role in disaster response for the country. We saw it most evident first in 2009, when typhoon Ondoy flooded the streets of Manila, and an overwhelming response from volunteers, the private sector and civil society was mobilized through social media. It became a space for people to marshal individuals to gather relief aid, or a megaphone for calls for help. When the limitations of the local governments became evident, civilians acted as watchdogs for one another, using mainly social media as their means of communication. But Rappler, together with the Climate Change Commission, the Office of Civil Defense, the United Nations Development Program, the Department of Social Welfare and Development, and other partners have acknowledged that these pieces of information, specifically during times of disaster, need to be organized in order to be more reliable and effective. By launching the online platform Project Agos, they have created a digital space that gathers critical information from various sources, and which puts all of these at the fingertips of responders, decision makers, and the public, in a usable interface. By scanning social media and SMS alerts, data of those who

16 E S Q U I R E D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4

need help or rescue, those who are calling out for relief aid and other similar reports are plotted into a single web-based map. The map contains all the pertinent and summarized information that will be easier for the public to click through. The flow of data is then maximized before, during, and after a disaster. Besides being just an online platform, the developers are committed to making Project Agos part of a long-term effort to synergize the different initiatives of disaster risk reduction as well as climate change stakeholders. From the time of its launch in November 2013, Rappler.com has started utilizing Project Agos for typhoon Yolanda by facilitating and uniting relief efforts. A landing page, and several crowd-source maps are being used to determine road and infrastructure conditions, cell signals, rescue needs and relief needs, as well as list of missing or found persons. It is an ongoing and long-term project that combines top down government action with bottom up citizen involvement, a movement that aims to help communities adapt to climate change, and hopefully become better prepared for disaster mitigation, response and recovery. For more information on Project Agos, visit http://www.rappler. com/move-ph/39489-project-agos-climate-change.

WorldMags.net

P H OTO G R A P H BY JA K E V E R ZOSA

PROJECT AGOS ANALYZES AND PLOTS INFORMATION FROM SOCIAL MEDIA, FOR A MORE EFFECTIVE MEANS OF DISASTER RESPONSE


WorldMags.net

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net DEC-JAN 2014

ESQ&A

BOB ONG

Interviewed by JEROME GOMEZ

The filmization of his first book due for the cinemas this January will make the bestselling author’s name even bigger—and yet we still don’t know who Bob Ong is or what he looks like. In this exclusive e-mail interview, the author allows us a peek into his life, answering questions about family, what he eats for breakfast, and why he continues to insist on remaining less a personality and more “an idea.” The author’s personal effects from grade school to present, including his chew toy, mementos (Halls wrapper and paracetamol) from the “special someone” mentioned in ABNKKBSNPLko?!, and the original drafts of that book.

CONT’D

WorldMags.net

D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4 E S Q U I R E 19


WorldMags.net

ESQUIRE: How would you de-

scribe the person behind the name Bob Ong? Is he a man or a woman? Upper class? Middle? What does he eat for breakfast? BOB ONG: Bob Ong is a middle class Pinoy who eats oatmeal and pandesal bread for breakfast everyday. ESQ: From your stories, I’m assuming you were born in the early ‘70s. Where did you grow up? What neighborhood? What is your most vivid recollection of being a child? BO: I grew up in a humble neighborhood in Metro Manila. My readers can tell that most of my memories as a child are vivid, it’s hard to pick one that is most. I find it easy [in his books] to recall how life was before because the world changed drastically. The stark contrast makes old times distinct and unforgettable. ESQ: What drew you to writing? BO: I’ve always been told that I have a way with words. I think I simply gravitated towards writing while growing up. There was the skill and the interest, so when the opportunity to go full time and the desire to do something positive as an individual came eventually, the path had already been laid out for me. ESQ: How does your usual day go? BO: Not so different from other writers, I guess. I usually wake up to a day of no specific agenda. I’m like an eightyear old kid with seven days of Saturdays. That is not to say I have no responsibilities, far from the truth, but I usually get to enjoy—and not a few times endure—a chartless day. ESQ: What makes you happiest? BO: Love and fulfillment. A day well-spent, work that got good results, love given, love received, lives touched, a good kiss, a tight hug, a burst of laughter, quality time

20 E S Q U I R E D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4

“I USUALLY WAKE UP TO A DAY OF NO SPECIFIC AGENDA. I’M LIKE AN EIGHTYEAR OLD KID WITH SEVEN DAYS OF SATURDAYS.” shared with my family, wife, and kids. The stuff that TV commercials portray as “THE LIFE,” that makes me happiest...minus the product being sold. ESQ: How will you describe your mother? What is the greatest lesson she taught you? BO: My mother is a typical Pinay mom. Caring, handson, and with a sweet and feminine touch of goofball. I don’t remember my mom telling me any particular lesson, but one thing I admire her for is how she values people over anything in this world. She’s all about personal relationships. She’d always say that her treasures are the people around her. ESQ: How would you describe your father? BO: He was a loving and supportive father. I did mention him in my first book. Fun-

ny that in my middle age I am turning out to be him, for better or worse. As for unverbalized life lessons, I consider my father as a very responsible man. Imperfect like the rest of us, but responsible. It wouldn’t be a bad deal if I become the man that he was. ESQ: How did it feel when the first book became a success? BO: Felt good, of course, but it didn’t happen overnight; and the “success” didn’t come with a bang because I didn’t have book signings and fans days and TV appearances and things that would tell you you’ve made it big. There was no thrill or rush. Just a silent reassurance that I have readers and I could probably publish my next book. ESQ: How did you celebrate? BO: I’m not sure if I did. It was a quiet victory. I think almost all successes that I’ve had in my life were quiet victories. I’m killjoy defined. ESQ: What’s the best thing about being anonymous yet famous? BO: Exactly like that quote attributed to Picasso: “I’d like to live as a poor man with lots of money.” Which of course doesn’t make sense and isn’t

WorldMags.net

Ong’s grade school shorts. “Just a few inches bigger than a common square pot holder. Grade 1 or Grade 2, not sure of the level. But I do remember wearing this for a long time.”

exactly true for me. But I do get to live a life of contentment, by God’s grace, without the unnecessary complications. ESQ: What is your most marked physical feature? BO: Can’t answer, sorry. Not because of secret identity crap, but because I don’t want to be physical. I’d rather be an idea. ESQ: If you could change anything in your body, what would it be and why? BO: I just wish to be healthier. ESQ: Tell me about your first love. How did it begin? BO: One crazy thing about love is you couldn’t always tell how or when it begins. We were classmates. She was smart, but not intimidating. And she was cute. ESQ: Tell me about the last heartbreak. BO: Bad trip. It was that type of heartbreak that doesn’t hurt much because it was so foul you realized she wasn’t worth it. ESQ: There is a photo online identified as Bob Ong, one of a rather mature Tsinoy individual. Is that you? Are you Chinese at all? BO: No. Nothing is reliable

A L L P H O T O S C O U R T E S Y O F B O B O N G A N D V I VA E N T E R TA I N M E N T

ONG CONT’D


WorldMags.net

WorldMags.net


ONG CONT’D

WorldMags.net

On the set of the movie: director Mark Meilly flanked by Lander Vera Perez and lead star Jericho Rosales.

online, not even the news. If there’s one great eye-opener for me as Bob Ong, it’s the realization of how much BS we get around us. All the hearsays, according tos, and inside infos about Bob Ong—they’re all BS. It’s just disgusting childish bragging rights. My real friends, even the good ones online that I haven’t met yet in real life, won’t waste time talking about me. The ones most eager to provide info are always the people who know least. Those who know don’t tell. Those who tell don’t know. It’s the Bob Ong paradox. ESQ: How do you write? Do you have a process? A ritual? BO: A decade and years later, I’ve no ritual left. Either by stick or carrot, out of guilt for not producing anything, or for the swelling of uncontainable thoughts in my head, I just throw myself at the keyboard and type away. ESQ: How do you deal with writer’s block? BO: I don’t. I pause from work. ESQ: What’s the riskiest thing you’ve done? BO: I left the security of a fulltime job for this. And it wasn’t like there was too much competition when I started writing. That would’ve been so much easier. The big risk was there was no market at all for writers like me in the ‘90s.

22 E S Q U I R E D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4

There were no readers to write for. ESQ: Of all the books you authored, what remains the most special to you and why? BO: I would say ABNKKBSNPLAko?! just because it was the first one published. Otherwise, all my books are special to me and all needed to be written. ESQ: You allowed ABNKKBSNPLAko?! to be filmed. Are you writing the script? How involved are you in it creatively? BO: The Viva people are all very nice individuals. I got to lay down all my concerns and ideas from the get go and they were very accommodating. But I did set my own boundaries and allowed them full creative control beyond that. It was a hear-me-first-and-thenyou-can-do-what-you-want sort of arrangement. Make use of my suggestions that make sense to you, ignore what doesn’t. I don’t know what surprises lurk in the movie, but so far Viva has been very pleasant to deal with. ESQ: If there’s something in the book you will really fight for to be included in the film, which part is it? Why? BO: Nothing in particular. The essence of the book is its message. I guess the most important thing is for viewers to achieve the same level of op-

timism after seeing the movie as readers did after reading the book. If they leave the cinema inspired, with a better concept of education, and a deeper understanding and appreciation of life, the movie would’ve done its job. ESQ: What to you is writing? BO: To educate, to entertain, or both. By any definition, it’s supposed to make a better world. ESQ: Do you believe in God?

BUT MY ANONYMITY ISN’T ABOUT IDENTITY, IT’S SIMPLY PROTECTING MYSELF FROM AN UNDESIRABLE LIFESTYLE. THERE IS NO GRAND REVELATION. BO: Yes, and it is a blessing to be deemed worthy and made capable of believing God. I’ve learned that He is an awesome God. So awesome, your mind just couldn’t contain Him. ESQ: What have you learned from children? BO: Never lose your sense of wonder. ESQ: Don’t you sometimes consider coming out from being faceless? And how do you convince yourself to remain that way in an age of extreme

WorldMags.net

self-promotion? BO: You know, people are sometimes so accustomed to how they see the world that it becomes very hard for them to see it any other way. But my anonymity isn’t about identity, it’s simply protecting myself from an undesirable lifestyle. There is no grand revelation. There is just me preserving a world for as long as the public would respect that wish. ESQ: What is fame for you? BO: It is not for me. ESQ: Why did you decide to be faceless in the first place? BO: A hundred and one reasons. When I started, the number one reason would be, well, I was on the Internet! To flash your real identity was as necessary as wearing a school/company ID while malling. I got to meet some people in real life that time, however, and they’ve become my good friends. It was only after the media and the people who call themselves fans started coming in that I decided to throw away my ID for good. ESQ: What have you learned from success? BO: Success is merely a privileged, bird’s eye view of the world, and a very interesting autopsy report of failure. ESQ: What is the best thing about doing what you do? BO: I get to do it. ESQ: Who is your favorite Filipino writer and why? BO: Jose Rizal, hands down. You’ve got to be one badass writer to have that much faith in your writing at that time. ESQ: What is the biggest misconception about Bob Ong? BO: That he said all those cheesy love quotes. And he runs that equally cheesy Twitter account of cheesy quotes. (Mine’s @sibobpo.) Sorry, but being loved for things you didn’t say is probably the second most awful thing for any writer to endure. Being hated is the first.


WorldMags.net

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

MAN AT HIS BEST

ART

THE MANY FECES OF LOUIE CORDERO

A BOY WHO’S BEEN DEALT SHIT ALL HIS LIFE DEALS IT BACK. NARDONG TAE, IN 3D.

The Nardong Tae figure will be launched on Dec. 7 at Xbisitzer, 137 Mabini Street corner Ortega Street, San Juan City.

24 E S Q U I R E D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4

WorldMags.net

P H O T O G R A P H B Y PA U L D E L R O S A A R I O

A

fter art school, Louie Cordero moved into a former comics factory in Cubao, Manila. Influenced by the phantoms of his studio (and the fact that he couldn't afford any paint) he tried his hand at one of his first loves, comics. The first Nardong Tae was Xeroxed and distributed around Recto, which is also the main character's spiritual birthplace. Ten years and some five issues later (during which he returned to painting and sculpture, becoming one of the vanguards of Philippine contemporary art) Cordero is releasing 55 resin cast figures of the cult hero. A human piece of shit, or a shitencrusted human, is the least likely candidate for action hero status, but the sci-fi melodramatic humor of the narrative elevates the work to popular art. "When I first started this character, I thought about what can possibly be the most degrading object that I could resurrect and make people like?" says the artist. Nardo’s adventures begin as a young boy in Cavite. Burnek, who's been bullied by the local toughies, gets dumped on by an intergalactic turd comet that originated from "shit aliens." He becomes poo personified, and struggles trying to live a normal childhood though is ostracized and isolated by his very smelliness. As a statue, Nardong Tae is white, staying true to his black and white photocopied roots. The sludgy ripples resemble white chocolate fondant—or the coat of a wet yeti—more than actual excrement, fortunately. Eight editions are painted gold in commemoration of Rogelio Roxas, a former Filipino soldier who discovered the Yamashita treasure in 1971, and five have been donated to Silverlens' Artflood sale for Yolanda survivors. Don't let this opportunity go to waste (see what I did there.) —AUDREY N. CARPIO


WorldMags.net

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

BEST T HIS MAN A

KS

I L L U S T R AT I O N B Y T O F Z A PA N TA

BOO

WHAT I’VE LEARNED (FROM BOOKS)

SOME THOUGHTS AND REFLECTIONS (AND POSSIBLY EVEN WISDOM) FROM A LIFETIME OF OBSESSIVE READING BY SASHA MARTINEZ > I would like to be buried with Jane Eyre. > Is it a cop-out or just a glaring symptom

of emotional immaturity to blame the book you’re reading for an act of recklessness, a bad decision, or for starting a row you don’t really care much about? “I’m sorry, okay, I was reading Revolutionary Road, and I just wanted to run with this whole squeezing-the-toothpaste-tubewrong.” “What do you mean you don’t love me, you said I reminded you of Norwegian Wood!” “I’m sorry about your door; I reread The Shining last week.” > Why can’t we communicate through book-lending? Here’s Eleanor and Park; this means I’m Eleanor. Here’s Jane Eyre;

26 E S Q U I R E D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4

this means you’re an asshat but you’re my Rochester. Here’s a Cheryl Strayed; this means you’re beautiful but you need help. Here’s A Lover’s Discourse; this means it would take all these fragments to approximate how much I love and try-not-tolove you—please note the marginalia. > Bad writing almost personally offends me. But I try not to get into fights, especially on the Internet, about how oh so very wrong you are about loving that crap you call literature, you fucking selfrighteous phony. > That sense of accomplishment you get

from unearthing a really good book at a Booksale—why aren’t we putting that

on our resumés? Sasha Martinez, skilled Booksale spelunker, possesses a preternatural aptitude for digging through Fifty Shades overruns to get at a Richard Yates, displays doubles prominently. > Would it be in everybody’s best interests if bookstores policed you? “Ma’am, I think you’ve had enough. Step away from the Mary Baloghs, please, and stay calm. Ma’am, please put down The Complete Sherlock Holmes—gently!” > Reading beyond what I usually read tends to be more financially painful than it is psychologically challenging; it’s my wallet’s comfort zone I worry about. I’ve been picking up graphic novels at an alarming pace lately, and it’s a pricier bibliophilia. But nothing, thus far, beats seeing an aging Batman on a rearing stallion. > Within a week of meeting my now-boyfriend, he had me listen to Billy Collins— “you might have gone down as the first person / to ever fall in love with the sadness of another.” And I remember looking at this scruffy stranger connected to my still, still head by an earphone wire, and I remember thinking, “Yeah, I’ve got this.” > I grew up in a house crammed with books, and the constant but wholly dismissed threat of being crushed to death by moldering paperbacks. I slept in a bunk bed—I got the bottom bunk, my mother’s books got the top bunk. But I was also [passively] raised to think that I wouldn’t be a weirdo if I took a week away from Real Life to plow through His Dark Materials. My mother coagulating in bed, a fat book balanced on her belly, and a bowl of chili right beside her—I wanted to be that when I grew up. > Sometimes you can’t help but look up from your book and squint at the sunlight. Sometimes it’s because Real Life’s being a pest and makes you do it. Sometimes you do it deliberately. Sometimes it’s because it’s part of your and your boyfriend’s brand of wild, dangerous dorklove—the kind that involves many a weekend of traipsing around three different cities to amass books, remembering to eat a sandwich between stops, then going back home and placing your hardwon loot on shelves, careful not to mix his respectably shabby art books with your remaindered-and-rescued paperbacks. Sometimes you have to rest, even from that book that draws such groans from your black, black heart. Sometimes you sigh deeply, just before diving right back in.

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net it should be a number one hit on the charts of a better world than this. The band takes the best bits of 70s classic rock, 80s chart pop, and 90s alternative and R&B to make something joyously, straightforwardly irresistible. JANELLE MONAE The Electric Lady

Robot rock, soulful sentiments, sheer funkiness, high concepts, and a sci-fi sheen: Janelle Monae draws from approximately a century of pop music, stretching decades back and a few years into the future to create her bright, beautiful, all-encompassing pop.

DAFT PUNK Random Access Memories

Dance music found itself redefined once again this year by two Frenchmen in awesome android helmets. Celebrating—and collaborating with—their inspirations and idols, the duo proved themselves human after all, with an album that was at once nostalgic and futuristic.

relentlessly Pinoy, endlessly inventive. KITCHIE NADAL Malaya

Going beyond the straightforward pop-rock that made her an arena-packing act, Kitchie Nadal continues to evolve, taking in a world of influences while keeping the songs eminently accessible.

Paddy McAloon’s song-stories are as sly and sincere as ever. Thieves and magicians and lovers and the lost populate these tunes, oddly touching and ever out of time.

B Y L U I S K AT I G B A K

songs, possibly their strongest yet, equally suited to pub or stadium.

C

Crimson/Red

HERE ARE TEN ALBUMS WE ENJOYED A LOT IN 2013, AND THAT WE’LL STILL BE ENJOYING WELL AFTER THEYEAR IS OVER but hell to write. Mistakes will be made, raves will be reassessed, opuses will be overlooked. Still, as we sally forth into a new year, we can’t resist a backwards glance, and another spin or three. The days are gone, but the music sticks around.

MUSI

PREFAB SPROUT

WHAT WE WERE LISTENING TO

Year-enders are fun to read,

T HIS BES MAN AT

KATE TORRALBA Long Overdue

Delightful songs, performed with great charm and impeccably produced. Though Kate’s voice and piano playing anchor most of the tracks, there is an admirable variety on display here, as well as a sweet pop sensibility and a certain wry humor.

RHYE Woman

Cool, spare, smooth, and soulful; the soundtrack for some particularly laid-back seductions. Sade comparisons are almost inevtable, but this album holds up under them. And yes, that is a man singing.

ARCTIC MONKEYS

SANDWICH

AM

Fat, Salt and Flame

Brash young band status about seven years or so behind them, the Arctic Monkeys have nevertheless retained their power to excite, to win over, to move (literally and figuratively)—as demonstrated by this set of

28 E S Q U I R E D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4

PASTA GROOVE Kometa

HAIM Days Are Gone

Song after song on Haim’s debut album sounds like

Dreamy and gritty, strange and familiar, eclectic and consistent, this is Pasta Groove at his recombinant best: sweepingly cinematic,

WorldMags.net

With songs like “Sleepwalker,” “The Week After,” and “New Romancer,” Sandwich proves that they’re still one of the most vital acts in Pinoy rock. By turns aggressive and tender, nostalgic and forward-looking.


WorldMags.net

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

SICK FOR THE BIG SUN

AFTER A YEAR THAT GAVE US SOME OF THE BIGGEST BANDS AND BEST CONCERTS THIS COUNTRY HAS EVER HAD, 2014 IS SET TO BE EVEN BETTER. THE NEW YEAR’S FIRST ATTEMPT? HOW ABOUT THE BEST FRENCH BAND EVER: PHOENIX.

IS BEST MAN AT H

MUSIC

BY K A R A O RT I GA

T

Phoenix is scheduled to perform on January 21, 2014 at the World Trade Center. Tickets are available at smtickets.com and karposmultimedia.com

30 E S Q U I R E D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4

WorldMags.net

F I L M M AG I C

here’s a moment in Sofia Coppola’s film Lost in Translation, when Bill Murray and Scarlet Johansson—on an all-night adventure around Tokyo— find themselves in a stranger’s basement party where the kids are cool, certain substances are involved, and people are dancing to Phoenix’s “Too Young.” Their connection here is stirring. Two strangers in the most unlikely situation, finding a sense of peace with one another, everything slowly falling into place. (Later on, Phoenix would score Coppola’s film Somewhere. Phoenix frontman Thomas Mars is actually Sofia Coppola’s husband.) I fell in love with “Too Young” in 2007, on the way to my high school ball. It was track 6 in a CD mix my date had put together, sandwiched in between some Arcade Fire and Of Montreal. The song rouses those feel-good emotions that hit you in the gut. But it feels right, and it’s never corny (which is why it would be good for a first date playlist). Their first album United (2000) was dominated by rhythm guitar riffs and a more traditional rock format. But it was Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix (2009) that transformed them from an underground tune on an obscure CD mix, to a Grammy Award winner. And it’s true that Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix is one stellar album, from the ubiquitously loved track “Listomania,” to their seven-minute instrumental “Love Like a Sunset.” This French band, it seems, has become something contagious. It’s the addictive rhythm of their synth-rock, the uneven vocal lines of Thomas Mars, the irresistible dance-ability of the music. Even when they perform live, stripped off that subtle electronic sound they’re so famous for, they exude the same power, as proven in their acoustic take-away show at the Eiffel Tower, where they wowed with their a cappella version of “1901.” The rumors have been circulating for quite some time, but now it’s a fact. Promoting their latest album Bankrupt, Phoenix really is coming to Manila on January 2014, and it’s going to be explosive.


WorldMags.net

For the past 7 years GUESS Watches has made a meaningful difference in the lives of children through its charitable efforts. Each year a SPECIAL EDITION timepiece is created that infuses fashion into philanthropy with a portion of the proceeds going directly WorldMags.net to the foundation. For more information visit guesswatches.com.


WorldMags.net BEST MAN AT HIS

FUNNY* OM JOKE FR IFUL A BEAUT WOMAN

A S TO L D BY

TRICIA CENTENERA ABOUT THE JOKESTER: Six years ago, a car ran over Tricia—breaking her pelvis, rib cage, and neck, shattering her hipbone and tearing her esophagus. “It changed my life completely,” says the 27-yearold Spanish-Filipina. When the accident rendered her unable to walk for four months, she was a professional dancer, in the middle of training for a dance show in Korea. But the mishap paved the way for her acting career, which ushered her move to the Philippines. Today, she enjoys success as a TV and event host, has started dancing again, and even learned to get back on a surfboard. “The beaches [here] are gorgeous, they’re just so far away. Growing up on Bondi Beach [in Australia], and not going into the sun is really foreign to me.” It seems no tragedy will be able to steal the sunshine of this gutsy island girl.—KARA ORTIGA

cannot guarantee that this joke * Esquire will be funny to everyone.

32 E S Q U I R E D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4

WorldMags.net

F > E J E = H 7 F > ; :  8 O  @ E I ; F >  F7 I 9 K 7 B  š  > 7 ? H  7 D :  C 7 A ; K F  8 O  I 7 H ?  9 7 C F E I  š  I F ; 9 ? 7 B  J > 7 D A I  J E  @ F  D 7 P 7 H ; D E  š  B ? D = ; H ? ;  8 O  B 7  I ; D P 7

What’s the difference between Tiger Woods and Santa? Santa stopped at three hos.


WorldMags.net

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

A DIY CRASH COURSE IN

A DIY CRASH COURSE IN

HOME HOME BREWING BREWING — BASIC PALE ALE RECIPE — Alcohol content is estimated at 4.8%

— INGREDIENTS — 2 lb Amber Dry Malt Extract 3 lb Light Dry Malt Extract ¼ oz 14% AA Bittering hops (Magnum recommended) 1 oz Flavor/Aroma hops (Cascade recommended) 2 packets dry ale yeast (Safale US-05 recommended) For bottling: 4.5 oz of white cane sugar

— PREPARATION — > Clean and scrub all equipment with a non-scented detergent. Prepare the sanitation solution according to your chosen method. Pour the sanitation solution and shake fermenter to fully sanitize it. Sanitize the airlock/blowoff tube and the yeast jar also. Seal the fermenter and set aside. Measure the malt extract and the hops, and set them aside. Label the hops to distinguish them easily. — PREPARING THE YEAST — > For best results, dry yeast must be rehydrated first prior to use. Put one cup of warm (around 35–40°C) preboiled water into your jar. Stir in one yeast packet, cover and let it stand for 15 minutes. Yeast is now ready to pitch.

HOME BREWING

ERWAN HEUSSAFF

THE FOUNDERS OF CRAFTPOINT BREWING CO. SHOW YOU HOW TO BREW IT YOURSELF B Y E R WA N H E U S S A F F

I

t all started when three mead junkies—Marvin, Aids, and Chip—found each other at the Home Brewers Night at L’Incontro Ristorante Italiano on Nicanor Garcia Street. After one of their regular meet-ups, they finally decided to open their very own microbrewery. They called it Craftpoint Brewing Co. The three started to create their own signature craft beer flavors, which were were very well received. Now their beers are carried by a few select establishments in the city. Marvin, Aids, and Chip learned a lot along the way, and here they share some of those lessons with Esquire.

34 E S Q U I R E D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4

PREPARING YOUR SET UP — RECOMMENDED EQUIPMENT — šBWh][Xh[mfejj^WjYWd^ebZWjb[Wij 20 qts of liquid šC[jWbij_hh_d]ifeed šBWh][c[Wikh_d]Ykf_dgkWhjieh_d]Wbbedi šIcWbb'(ep]bWii`Wh š<[hc[dj[h"Y^e_Y[i0=bWii%FbWij_YW_h j_]^j\eeZ]hWZ[XkYa[j%+]Wb$mWj[hF;JXejjb[ š8bem#e\\jkX[ehW_hbeYa\ehj^[\[hc[dj[h šIWd_j_p[h"Y^e_Y[i0?eZef^eh%9^beh_d[Xb[WY^% Star-San š:_Wbj^[hcec[j[h šJ_c[hehijefmWjY^ šA_jY^[diYWb[iZ_]_jWb_ifh[\[hh[Z š8ejjb[YWff[hehYh_cf[h š*.Xejjb[Yhemdi š*.WcX[hX[[hXejjb[i š8ejjb_d]XkYa[j š8ejjb[mWdZÓbb[h š7kjeI_f^ed

WorldMags.net

> After 60 minutes, shut down the boil. The wort at this stage must be cooled as rapidly as possible. Prepare an ice bath (the kitchen sink or a large pail will come in handy for this purpose) and immerse the pot in it. Also at this stage, the wort should stay as sterile as possible, so make sure it is covered to prevent any cooling water from entering the wort and contaminating it. > Keep adding more ice to the ice bath to speed up the cooling process. Once the wort is cold (it should be at 21°C or cooler) transfer the wort vigorously into your fermenter. With the two gallons of water already there, you should have

G E T T Y I M AG E S

MAN AT HIS BEST

DRINKING

— BREWDAY — > Boil two gallons of water, and let it cool afterwards. Transfer this water to your fermentor. Bring another three gallons of water in your brewpot to a boil. Once boiling, remove the pot from the heat and stir in the malt extracts. Be sure to completely dissolve the extract and that there are no clumps. Return the pot to the heat and continously stir while waiting for it to boil. As the liquid, now called wort, is coming to a boil, it will form foam on the surface. This will have the tendency to boil over, so make sure to watch the pot at this time. Reduce the heat if the boil over is about to happen. Once the wort is boiling, add the bittering hops and, using a timer or stopwatch, start timing the 60-minute boil. Maintain a vigorous rolling boil. With five minutes left in the boil, add the flavor and aroma hops.


WorldMags.net

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net more or less a total of five gallons of wort in your fermenter. At this stage the wort needs to be introduced to oxygen. You can achieve this by shaking the fermenter to splash the wort around. Do this for around five minutes or so. > Pitch the rehydrated yeast into the fermenter, seal it, and leave it to ferment for two and a half weeks in your chosen fermentation space. The fermentation space should have a stable temperature of around 18–21°C. You can check the fermenter from time to time to see how the fermentation is going. After a few hours, a thick foam called krausen will start to form. This is a good sign that fermentation is underway. — BOTTLING — > After about two and a half weeks, the fermentation should already be done. You can now begin bottling your brew. Thoroughly clean all of your bottles. You can use a bottle brush, or soak them in hot bleach solution to help loosen up any sediment and dirt inside the bottle. Thoroughly inspect each one to make sure they are all spotless. Prepare a sanitizer solution as per above. Soak your bottles and bottle caps in this solution to sanitize them. Also sanitize your bottling bucket and bottle filler.

ST HIS BE MAN AT

LIKE E A TM A N A ERWAN

HEUSSA

FF

> To carbonate our beer, we will be adding a small amount of sugar to our wort, which will then ferment in the bottles and produce just the right amount of C02 gas. Start by bringing to a boil 4.5 oz of white sugar in two cups of water, for about 10 minutes. Cover and let cool to room temperature. > In the meantime, transfer your beer from the fermenter to your bottling bucket. Be sure to transfer slowly; you don’t want to splash and aerate it, or it will oxygenate and stale quickly. A siphon is the perfect tool for this. If your fermenter has a spigot or faucet, you can attach a clear vinyl tube to achieve the same effect. Carefully pour the sugar solution into your bucket, and using a sanitized metal spoon, stir the beer gently to distribute the sugar thoroughly. Let it sit for around 15 minutes to completely disperse the sugar into the beer.

— SERVING — > Prior to drinking, chill your bottles in the fridge for at least 24 hours to allow the C02 gas to completely be absorbed in the beer. Carefully pour your beer into a glass, except for the last 1/2 inch of beer. Each of your bottles will have a thin sediment of yeast in the bottom. While harmless, it is best to leave them in the bottle as they tend to muddy up the flavor and cloud the beer. Enjoy!

36 E S Q U I R E D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4

THE MORNING AFTER

RECOVERY FOOD FOR THE SUPREMELY LETHARGIC

Y

ou've had a long night bouncing about and making loud noises in

blurry, sometimes questionable locations. You've spent all night with your boys, probably drinking beer, gallons of it, with a doomsday urgency. You wake up the next morning, cancel most of your early appointments and play around with the idea of actually hitting the gym and try to sweat out the hurt—but you opt not to. Wise decision. You're hungry for protein, fat, and precious guiltless binging thinking it'll clear your woes. It probably wont. But it will make you happy. Buy yourself a bunch of different sausages from Santis or Rustan’s, fry them up, pair them with eggs and a basket of shredded potatoes. Let’s face it, you dont need a recipe for this one. If it fails, hell, there is always the newly opened Hatch 22.

WorldMags.net

P H OTO G R A P H BY M I G U E L N AC I A N C E N O

> Using a bottling wand attachment to your bucket, carefully fill each bottle, leaving about an inch of headspace. Cap each bottle with a sanitized bottle cap and a capper. Store the bottles in a relatively cool area away from sunlight (a closet would be ideal) and leave it there to carbonate for two weeks.


WorldMags.net

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net which then dutifully heals over to achieve a dazzling leprous effect. Typically, plastic or metal beads are used, “but it can really be anything,” says urologist Doron Stember of Beth Israel Medical Center. Dr. Stember says that rice is apparently popular in Asia and “small bits of toothbrushes or anything else they can find” are used in prison, where lots of guys get it done. It’s meant to add texture and increase girth—a Return of Bruno, if you will. As for location, it’s usually done along the shaft, but I understand this guy is Australian, so for all I know he’s using it as some sort of stopper. I can’t say for sure without photos.

SEX

BY STACEY WOODS

MY WIFE WANTS TO TRY ROLE-PLAY. CAN YOU GIVE ME A FEW TIPS SO I DON’T COME OFF AS A DOOFUS? First, tell her you can’t do anything until you see a script. This will buy you some time to ask for lots of notes (and do say “notes”) about your character—his background, his education, his political leanings—anything you think will help put her off the idea completely. If it becomes apparent that she has no specific role in mind for you, it’s safe to assume (after throwing a small fit) she simply wants the two of you, or, more specifically, you, to act a little differently during sex. Perhaps she feels one of you (whom I’ll call

. . . A N D OTHER TOPICS

“you”) could stand to be a little livelier overall and maybe even dominate the proceedings occasionally. “That’s really what a lot of role-play is about—dominance and submission,” says Lainie Speiser, author of Hot Games for Mind-Blowing Sex: Erotic Fantasies You and Your Partner Can Try at Home. She also stresses that role-playing needn’t require elaborate costumes but instead should come about organically, perhaps inspired by and coaxed via humor. This shouldn’t be too hard. Just work up a few stock characters—some tough guys

Why are there so many shows about serial killers? So hoarders have something to watch.

38 E S Q U I R E D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4

Should I be taking supplements? Only if you can’t get real drugs.

and a couple coy sissies—and keep them in your repertoire. And, as I advise all my readers, have a lab coat, stethoscope, and some clown white in a box near the bed at all times. I heard that Demi Moore’s boyfriend had a pearl inserted in his penis. Where does it go and what is it supposed to do? I heard he wanted the whole oyster but it wouldn’t fit. Genital beading, or pearling, as it’s also called, is a process in which objects are inserted beneath the skin of the penis,

Whatever happened to acid rain? Fracking killed it.

WorldMags.net

How can I get better at reading women’s interest? I always think they’re flirting, only to find out they’re married. You could also stand to get better at spotting married women, frankly. It’s not too hard: They tend to have a metal band or, in some areas, a tattoo of thorns around their left ring finger and are often found flirting with guys like you. I can’t do anything about that, but I can tell you what those who study body language, which I’m told is a real thing, say about women’s sexual tells. They’re known to enact a set of what body-language expert Patti Wood calls “towards versus away” behaviors; essentially, they position themselves toward you rather than recoil from you with an audible shudder. Pay close attention to her pelvis. “The position of that part of the body,” says Wood, “and the opening and closing of that part of the body are very, very key to figuring out how somebody feels sexually.” Another very “primal tell,” she says, is showing the inside of the wrist. “It says that the woman is open and available.” So the pelvis, the inside of the wrist, and, I’m guessing, the inside of the thighs—all huge tells. Got a sex question of your own? E-mail it to us at sex@esquire.com.

How often should I change my sheets? Never. Make it someone else’s problem.

Is it really that bad to give a baby soda? Without Scotch, you mean?

T O P : I L L U S T R AT I O N B Y J O H N C U N E O

MAN AT HIS BEST


WorldMags.net

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net MAN AT HIS BEST

ART

MODERN LOVE

ACCLAIMED BUT MOSTLY OVERLOOKED DURING THE LATTER PART OF HIS CAREER, THE PAINTER CONSTANCIO BERNARDO GETS HIS WELL-DESERVED SPOTLIGHT THIS MONTH BY JEROME GOMEZ

C

onstancio Maria Bernardo apprenticed under the National Artist Fernando Amorsolo but genteel sunny days in ricefields were not to be the images that would eventually win him recognition. Considered as one of the early moderns of Philippine art, his more popular works were influenced by his teachers at Yale University where he was a Fulbright scholar, the same works that would earn him the distinction of being a master of the abstract genre in his return to local shores in the 1950s. Colors are the stars of Bernardo’s geometric abstracts. Bold, arresting colors that at once hold the attention of his audience, like in this remarkable piece from his Master’s thesis exhibition in 1952, part of a series called Perpetual Motion, one of the pieces on display in the ongoing retrospective of his works at the Ayala Museum. His departure from the figurative style didn’t sit well with his former teacher Amorsolo and the professors at the College of Fine Arts in UP where Bernardo became a member of the faculty. The pressure proved so great that he is said to have gone back to figurative painting, despite saying that his abstract practice had allowed him to think more freely, unhampered by the constricts of representing the world the way everyone else sees it. Eventually, wanting to distance himself from the influence of critics, colleagues and collectors, he directed all focus to his work. He painted everyday throughout his life, choosing to spend the rest of his hours priming his own canvases and building his own frames—which should probably explain why he never had the time to engage in the social world, and thus was soon practically unknown. Constancio Bernardo, one might say, was not only a great modern. He is both classic and a class act.

40 E S Q U I R E D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

P H O T O G R A P H B Y AT M A C U L A N G A N

WorldMags.net

D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4 E S Q U I R E 41


WorldMags.net

IN FULL BLOOM

THE ILLUSTRIOUS FILIPINO FURNITURE DESIGNER COMES HOME TO ROOST

S BEST MAN AT HI

DESIGN

W

hile we wait for

NAIA to actually start on the renovations that have been long promised—with Kenneth Cobonpue, Budji Layug and Royal Pineda on the redesign front—fans of the trio’s work have the new Kenneth Cobonpue showroom to ogle. The twolevel, 423-square meter space in Makati gathers the furniture designer’s bestof pieces, like the Bloom, Yoda and Zaza chairs—statement seating that makes nature larger than life. Each table, lamp, or sofa is a grand gesture that bubbles up

42 E S Q U I R E D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4

in whimsy, recalling a child’s imagination where puffy clouds fill the sky, giant leaves gently curve, and petals furl and unfurl, all providing shelter as nature intended. The international scene has been flaunting the impeccable Cebu-crafted wefts and weaves for a long time now, with Nobu Hotel in Las Vegas being the latest luxe establishment, but Manila design-philes can finally set their paws on a master’s piece. “It was a natural decision for me to open in Manila because it felt like coming home after a decade of going around the world,” Cobonpue says. “I wanted to launch in my own coun-

try because this is where I draw inspiration from, and it is here where every day, I witness hundreds of craftsmen turn my ideas into reality.” Thinking of what to splurge on for the holidays? The Cabaret sofa’s knotted walls, made of fabric-wrapped foam on a steel frame, give you the feeling of being bundled up in a thick cable-knit sweater. For the more avant-garde, go for the Eclipse rickshaw, an eco-friendly transport alternative won’t get you all sweaty as you cycle to your next meeting (your driver will do all the legwork.) Greenbelt Residences, Pasay Rd., Makati

WorldMags.net

C R I ST I A N BA I TG

BY AU D R E Y N . CA R P I O


WorldMags.net

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

A Rare Brandy, Especially Created for Luxury A lifelong passion for perfection drives Jorge Domecq-Bohorquez on a neverending quest to craft a brandy unlike any other on Earth.

There are very few people in the world who can talk about family traditions that hearken back hundreds of years. Jorge Domecq Bohórquez is one of them. He can rightfully claim that his family has been in the same business, producing fine wine and brandy, since 1791. “There have been many generations in my family working with wine and brandy—my father, my grandfather, my great-grandfather... Since I was little, wine and brandy were often talked about at home and during family gatherings,” says Bohórquez, who, as the managing director of Grupo Emperador Spain S.A., is at the helm of the centuries-old family business. With Bohórquez, the brand has only grown—especially in the Philippines, where its and flagship brand, Emeperador, announced ambitious plans at the beginning of 2013: to double its sales over the next five years, and sell one of every three bottles of brandy sold in the

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net “Brandy is perfect with your favorite dark chocolate and a good cigar, and it is best enjoyed with friends or family.”

world. Already, Emperador is the largest-selling brandy in the world, responsible for selling 31 million cases worldwide last year. Here, Emperador has recognized the growing sophistication of the Filipino palate, having recently brought its most premium brandy, Emperador Deluxe Spanish Edition. This superb brandy, produced and bottled in Spain following the family’s generations-old standards, represents the pinnacle of the vintner’s art.

BRANDY EDUCATION Despite his pedigree, Bohórquez himself took his time before entering the business. “I became familiar with brandy at a young age, but I started my career as a business consultant. Later, I established a company and became an entrepreneur,” he admits. As for the rest of the family: “Currently my father is retired, but

ADVERTISING FEATURE

the art of making brandy remains close to my heart and will always be part of our family. For example, my brother-in-law is the executive manager of one of the biggest wineries in Jerez,” he adds. And, of course, when Bohórquez finally joined the industry, the only way was to commit fully. For Bohórquez, brandy appreciation comes naturally—brandy is in his blood, so to speak— but he emphasizes that

the appreciation is easily learned. “Brandy is produced from grapes. The wine spirit used for distillation must be of the highest quality to create fine brandy. Just by utilizing the nose and mouth, this allows us to perceive the fruitiness of the wine, a skill developed over time,” Bohórquez says. “The age of the brandy can be very important to define the taste, bouquet and color, especially when it has been aged in oak casks. The human factor also plays an important role in achieving a good brandy. Age also includes using the ‘nose’ to control the timing of distillation necessary to make the finest brandy.” And for the drinker, brandy appreciation can be a relatively simple pursuit. It’s all about ut one’s preferences - some may even have it as part of a cocktail—though of course the finer spirits can hold up alone, and be paired with other sensory experiences. Bohórquez’s own preferences: “Brandy is perfect with your favorite dark chocolate and a good cigar,” he smiles. “And it is best enjoyed with friends or family.”

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

THE 2013 CAR AWARDS

FUN ON WHEELS

WE CELEBRATE CARS THAT FOCUS ON DRIVING ENJOYMENT MINUS THE HEFTY PRICE TAG

BY JASON A. DELA CRUZ

AUTOMOTIVE EVENT

OF THE YEAR

VOLKSWAGEN BRAND LAUNCH If you’ve ever been on the receiving end of a punch because a Beetle passed by, then you know Volkswagen’s popularity is beyond doubt. Chances are, you grew up with one, whether it’s a Bug, Brasilia or a Kombi. And chances are, your fondest memories have to do with the brand. It’s simply the coolest and most charming thing on wheels. Then the ‘90s came along, and VW’s image was messed up, all because of a distributor who clearly didn’t know what the hell they were doing. It has left a bad taste since. Pinoys may be jokingly 48 E S Q U I R E D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4

known as having short memories, but this one is vivid. Volkswagen is the brand that’s been missing in the local automotive arena. The market just doesn’t make sense without it. But there are folks who are protective of the company from Wolfsburg, and if and when they return, it better be handled right this time around. Speculation has been floating since late last year that the Ayala Group was bringing it in. Before any official word, any thought of the previous operation seemed to disappear. Once it was known Ayala Automotive Holdings (who have Honda and Isuzu in their stable) was in fact appointed as the Volkswagen distributor, there was a clear idea as to how it would be handled. At the beginning of the year, Automobile Central Enterprises, Inc. (ACE) was incorporated to take care of the brand.

2013 has been about setting things in place, hiring the right people who know the business well and carefully planning which VW vehicles to bring in, followed by the ones arriving in the next year and after that. It’s not about acting on a whim and bringing in the Volkswagens that we drool over. It’s about positioning the cars. This isn’t just a return—they have to rebuild the image. ACE is dead serious. A VW service center in Greenfield District, Mandaluyong is close to completion while the first showroom in Bonifacio Global City opened the same day as the Volkswagen brand launch in Greenbelt last September 27. And no, not just in one area but the entire park that surrounds Greenbelt 1 to 5. If the launch is an indication of what to expect, then the über cool cars will definitely be back.—JAC

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

WorldMags.net


CAR

AWA R D S

WorldMags.net

2013

SPORTS SEDAN OF THE YEAR

LEXUS IS 350 F SPORT

Since its inception in the late ‘80s, Lexus has been known for making comfortable, refined premium cars. Offerings like the LS and the American-favorite ES are the best examples that bolster this image. Sure, they won’t ignite your fire, but their cars will provide a relaxing ride, wherever you’re headed. So the world was pleasantly surprised when the LFA supercar came out to do battle with some of Europe’s finest (read: Ferrari). It was the Lexus tagline of “The THE Pursuit of Perfection” perSPECS sonified in a drool-worthy package. But alas, only a ENGINE: 306 HP V6 KM/L: 8.08 CITY; lucky 500 customers get to 11.9 HIGHWAY experience it. PRICE: P3,058,000 Don’t despair, though, as (F-SPORT) some of the LFA’s technologies have trickled down to the thirdgeneration IS sedan, specifically, the F Sport. The look, for instance, is a fusion of sporty (with that signature Lexus Spindle grille and jaw-dropping fascia) and L-finesse cues, care of lines and curves that blend seamlessly together. The body is even laser-screwed and spot-welded for the utmost in rigidity. The cabin contains all the goodies, such as that innovative TFT instrument cluster with moving center ring—straight from its sporty LFA brother. Of course, comfort and convenience haven’t been left out.

There are more tech goodies lying underneath, such as the 3.5-liter V6 motor, an 8-speed transmission, and a Drive Mode Selector. Translation? You can choose to drive like a hooligan or drive like Mr. Daisy—in true Lexus refinement. Sure, it may be pricey at P 3.058 million. But you’ll get so much more than the price suggests. –Gerard Jude Castillo

SPORTS COUPE OF THE YEAR

HONDA CR-Z

Speedy and sexy: these are just some of the adjectives that come to mind when one fantasizes about his favorite sports car. Then, these images turn into Ferraris, Porsches, and Lexus LFAs. Yet for all the curves-in-all-the-rightplaces and fast-and-furious imagery that sports cars have ingrained into our minds, the truth of the matter is, it’s much more than just 0-100 kilometers

per hour times and top speed. If you think that this is what sports cars are all about, you may have played just a tad too many Super Trump and Need for Speed games as a child. Believe it or not, folks like Honda (the people who brought us such sporty cars as the NSX, S2000, and the Civic Type R) dare to add new adjectives to the mix: practical and sensible. The Honda CR-Z is the Japanese carmaker’s way of saying that hybrid cars can be sporty as well. Take one look at its sleek, two-door sport hatch profile, with its sharp front edge and two-piece glass hatch (a throwback to its CR-X predecessor) and you’ll know what we mean. Then there’s that two-plus-(sort of ) two cabin that’s sporty and very driver-centric, complete with digital-cum-analog gauges that change color depending on your driving style. Not very practical, you say? What if we told you that you get a 1.5-liter four-cylinder gasoline engine along with Honda’s Integrated Motor Assist (IMA) and a “Drive Mode Selector”? In plain English, this means that your gas engine is given a boost by an extra shot of electricity when in Sport or Plus Sport modes. The same motor can help save fuel when in Econ mode. While the CR-Z won’t give you the speed thrills of a Ferrari, what it does offer is a car that looks great and can be as playful as you are (on the road, that is). Or, you THE can just show off your SPECS sleek set of wheels to your friends on a Saturday ENGINE: 134 HP (M/T), 133 HP (A/T) I4 night and still boast about WITH INTEGRATED good gas mileage. Way MOTOR ASSIST cool.–GJC KM/L: 8-10.1 CITY; 19.7 HIGHWAY PRICE: P1,390,000– P1,950,000 (DEPENDING ON VARIANT)

OTHER CARS WE LOVE <ehZHWd][hM_bZjhWaÆX_]"XWZWdZcWdboš>okdZW_7YY[dj9H:_ÆfhWYj_YWbb_jjb[^WjY^m_j^W\kd"jehgk[oZ_[i[bjm_ijšC[hY[Z[i#8[dp7(+&IfehjÆj^[b_jjb[ \kdC[hY"Wjhk[^ej^WjY^šFehiY^[8enij[hWdZ9WocWdÆib_]^jboceh[m_j^_dc[Wdij^Wdj^[/''"ib_]^jboceh[\kdšIkXWhk8HP%JeoejW.,ÆWh[WbmehbZifehji YWh$7ZZiif_Y[jej^[ZW_boYecckj[šIkXWhk<eh[ij[hNJÆ^Wij^[^ehi[fem[hjefkjj^[;khef[Wdijei^Wc[šLebaimW][dJ_]kWdÆWckY^m_i[hXkoj^Wdj^[ ej^[h=[hcWdb_jjb[kj[išLebleL*&ÆLeblej^hemiekjj^[XenWdZj^hemi_diec[\kd

50 E S Q U I R E D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

WorldMags.net


CAR

AWA R D S 2013

WorldMags.net THE SPECS

ENGINE: 185 HP I4 KM/L: 8.1-9 CITY; 13.1 HIGHWAY PRICE: P1,685,000

look at. You can stare at the CX-5 all day. This one gets 19-inch wheels that give it a more compelling stance. It’s a great bit of kit, this. It can’t be overlooked.—JAC

SMALL CAR OF THE YEAR

MITSUBISHI MIRAGE G4

COMPACT UTE OF THE YEAR

MAZDA CX-5 AWD SPORT

Compact utility crossovers are easily the most in-demand cars, and have been for a while now. You’ll often come across the question of which one’s the best out there. Given the price and the goodies stuffed in it, the CX-5 AWD Sport is a no-brainer pick. You get a nine-speaker Bose sound system, Bluetooth connectivity, reverse camera, automatic wipers, bi-xenon headlights, adaptive frontlighting system, lane-departure warning system and the trademark i-Stop system, to name but a few. Black leather with red stitching gets the message across. And the best part is, it gets the powerplant it deserves—the 2.5-liter Skyactiv. A beefy engine in a small package is the stuff dreams are made of; it’ll always give you a good time, guaranteed. CUVs aren’t often meant for speed but rather to cruise comfortably. Anything otherwise is a plus. This Mazda can if you ask it to do so, and feels very much like the 6. It has that wonderful mix of nicely weighted steering, agility and the same short accelerator pedal just like the 6 for when you need that burst of speed. The design is fluid, the lines lovely to 52 E S Q U I R E D E C – J A N 2 0 1 4

Size matters. To most men, the bigger things are, the better. This holds true for their steaks, cars, and, well, you get the picture. So maybe, you just might like the new Mitsubishi Mirage G4. Sure, it’s still a small subcompact, yet it is bigger in almost every dimension than its hatchback brother. Apart from the trunk, this new car now looks a bit less playful and more “grown up,” with its diamond-cut shaped headlamps, chrome grille, sleek side character lines, and equally curvaceous trunk. You could even say it’s got curves in all the right places. Then there’s the cabin, which is bigger as well—with more leg, head, and shoulder room to spare. That backseat is actually big enough for three adults (what were you thinking?). It’s even got the goodies first seen on its hatch sibling

like a push-button starter, GPS navigation and touchscreen infotainment system, and auto climate control, as well as all the safety gear to boot. Sure, it may be powered by the same 1.2-liter 3-cylinder engine, paired with the same 5-speed manual or CVT tranny, yet remember that this motor hauls a light body. So it likes playtime as much as you do, yet is pretty frugal, too, even able to eke out as much as 21 kilometers to a liter. Starting at around P578,000 and topping out fully-kitted at P718,000, the Mitsubishi Mirage G4 Sedan proves that small can also be big. So, does size still matter?—GJC

THE SPECS ENGINE: 78 HP I4 KM/L: 21 (CLAIMED) PRICE: P578,000 – P718,000 (DEPENDING ON VARIANT)

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

WorldMags.net


2013

A

E S Q

AR

2013 C

AWA R D S

WorldMags.net R

YE

CAR

OF TH

2013 CAR OF THE YEAR M A Z DA 6 I’m standing behind a crowd as Berjaya Auto Philippines CEO Steven Tan and his team are about to take the wraps off one of the most eagerly awaited cars of 2013, the all-new Mazda 6. And there it is, in all its “Soul of Motion” glory. It looks like an animal ready to pounce. The lines are aggressive yet graceful, and the coupe-like roofline adds to the eye candy-ness. Prior to seeing it in the metal and feasting your eyes on photos on the Internet, you just know the 6 is going to kick some ass and has more than a decent shot of being the car of the year. No question about their apTHE SPECS proach—Mazda has never followed the usual path the ENGINE: 185 HP I4 Japanese giants have taken. KM/L: 8.5-10 CITY; That’s what makes them 15-16 HIGHWAY PRICE: P1,705,000 who they are. Their cars possess the soul of a sports car—that natural feeling of being one with the ride and never wanting to get out of the driver’s seat. It’s challenging enough to strike that perfect balance in a sports car, let alone in a sedan or even in their hefty CX-9. No one knows how they do it for sure, but it’s in their DNA and you have to say that Zoom-zoomzoom jingle and catchphrase are spot on. 54 E S Q U I R E D E C – J A N 2 0 1 4

This little car company that can knows they have to come up with something special in order to overcome the likes of Toyota and Honda. And that’s exactly what they’ve done with the new 6. The Mazda 6 is a car that puts a smile on your face. It’s often overlooked because it doesn’t follow the Toyota Camry and Honda Accord’s midsize executive sedan mold. That sells. But Mazda has no interest in what those two offer; the 6 caters to the enthusiast. The engine, chassis and suspension work so harmoniously. 185 horses may not sound like much, but it’s just right as the car is sharp and light on its feet. Steering is precise and firms up the harder you push. The clever six-speed automatic gearbox is one of the best in the business. Combined with a throttle that’s short for instantaneous response, it works the revs nicely. You’ll want to go

E

through the gears via the paddles and hit the high revs each time. The engine note, with the right blend of smoothness and loudness, sings as you go through the motion. It’s like the devil tempting you to drive like a bat out of hell. The suspension also makes this Mazda feel like it’s gliding on the surface. Most cars these days are so sensible and boring. It’s as though we’re consumed by the daily grind and no longer look for an excuse to be behind the wheel. The 6 is pure joy. It will make you realize that driving should be fun. Which is the point, really. It will make you find time in your busy schedule to head to the hills, twisties or any stretch of road. And like anything sporty these days, this car is decked in black leather with red stitching. With the new 6, Mazda just upped everything. It’s one of those things that you thought didn’t need any improvement. It’s actually more of the same, but with loads of tech goodies. The 2.5-liter Skyactiv engine has high-pressure injection and a compression ratio of 14:1. There’s i-Eloop, which regenerates energy as electrical power during braking and coasting. This power is sent to the battery, assisting the i-Stop system, which shuts off the engine at a full stop. With a cylinder set to fire, minimal electricity is required to start the car each time. Fuel efficiency is increased while fuel emissions are reduced. And because of optimum piston positioning, the restart is quite smooth; there’s not much of a jolt. And get this: it’s P1,705,000, exactly the same price as the previous one. You’re basically getting all that hightech stuff for free. With this sort of performance and sticker price, you’ll be asking yourself whether you’d get a Subaru BRZ/Toyota 86 or this. And with the practicality of two extra doors and boot space, you’ll want to think very carefully about that one. The Mazda 6’s combination of good looks and agility with practicality makes perfect sense. That’s why it’s our Car of the Year. —JAC

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

WorldMags.net


POWERED BY

LIFESCIENCE

CENTER FOR WELLNESS AND PREVENTIVE MEDICINE

WorldMags.net

WELL AND GOOD A HARD-CHARGING BUSINESSMAN, AFTER A BOUT OF INTROSPECTION, DECLARED A PERSONAL WAR AGAINST AGING AND THEN INTRODUCED THE PHILIPPINES TO THE SCIENTIFIC WONDERS OF PREVENTIVE MEDICINE.

WorldMags.net


ADVERTISING FEATURE

WorldMags.net

artin Castro, with his fast cars and assortment of glamorous investments, is the envy of many. n perpetual search for the next adrenaline rush, he thunders down highways in a supercar or an exotic motorcycle, and his colorful roc-star lifestyle mirrors this need for speed. But the long wor hours, the late nights partying, and the stresses of high-octane entrepreneurship began to tae its toll. The occasional round of golf helped him decompress, but Martin nevertheless found his energy levels dipping.

M

“ wor hard and play harder,” he says, “but  also had enough self-awareness to tal to my doctor friends about exploring various health options.” They told him that the “t” medical thing these days was preventive medicine. Upon their prodding, he looed into the burgeoning supplements industry, and Martin, his wife Cris Romero-Salas Castro, and her sister Marv Romero-Salas promptly educated themselves on its nuances by attending anti-aging conventions all over the globe. After studying the local maret, they brought customized vitamins and supplements into the country. They didn’t now it ust yet, but this endeavor would become the genesis of LifeScience, founded in 2010 by the trio and envisioned as an integrated facility that showcases cutting-edge scientic breathroughs in preventive wellness. While the advocacy of LifeScience goes well beyond the uest for youthful loos, there is no denying that the three loo years younger than their actual age. Part of this collective vitality is that they obviously practice what LifeScience preaches, but they also exude a palpable sense of fulllment from their involvement with the groundbreaing facility Martin is the president

Marv and Cris handle the daily operations).

ized predictive wellness programs for those as young as 4–19.

ciety of Preventive, Regenerative and Anti-Aging Medicine ESAAM).

The most intriguing proposition LifeScience brings is that ensconced in one facility are the scientic breathroughs other countries have made in anti-aging and preventive medicine. “LifeScience,” says Marv, “brought in best practices from different elds and put it all under one roof. e tae the guesswor out of understanding you at a cellular level so you don’t have to resort to self-diagnosis. The tests we offer, though we wouldn’t consider them alternative, are not always available in mainstream hospitals.” LifeScience proceeds from the evidence-based results provided by tests such as Micronutrient role, ood ntolerance Test, ormone role, and Genomic Testing, which provides a blueprint of your DNA.

The facility, after a thorough consultation and state-of-the-art testing, offers clients a dynamic range of choices such as customized supplements, ntravenous Therapy to uicly restore the body’s nutritional balance, yperbaric Oxygen Therapy to accelerate healing time, the Kinesis System for functional tness, and a bevy of beauty and sin treatments.

“The best way to loo at us,” says Cris, “is that we are lie a pediatrician for adults. We’re here to wal you through the changes in your age, lifestyle, and genetic maeup.” She also, however, emphasizes that preventive wellness is for every age group. n fact, LifeScience offers personal-

t’s a science-based, holistic approach that has won over even the most septical individuals. “One high-prole CEO,” recalls Martin, “was extremely distrustful of LifeScience because he had already seen 13 specialists about his symptoms, to no avail. What maes you thin, he ased, you can help me? Our medical director did the consult, we ran some tests, and determined he was suffering from heavy metal poisoning. After putting the CEO through, among other things, chelation therapy, he became one of our most grateful clients.”

INVEST IN YOUR HEALTH At LifeScience, everything begins with the personalized consult, and nothing gets offered unless our experts determine that it is truly necessary for your overall health goals. Even our dermatological services require preliminary skin analyses, whereas other beauty centers may simply push various skin care services whether or not you actually need them.

Overseeing this preventive wellness movement, novel to the Philippines but a medically established practice in Europe and the US for the past 20 years, is Dr. Ben Valdecanas, the medical director of LifeScience, who is not only a highly respected orthopedic surgeon but is also the only ilipino doctor accredited by the European So-

WorldMags.net

VISIT US AT 8th floor, Accra Law Tower, 2nd Avenue Corner 30th Street, Bonifacio Global City, Taguig City 1634 Philippines T: +63 (2) 828 LIFE (5433) M: +63 (917) 573 LIFE Operating Hours: 7am - 8pm, Monday to Saturday www.lifescience.ph


WorldMags.net

Read

on your iPad.

Your favorite Summit magazines, now available in Newsstand

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

Shoes (P103,000) by Santoni.

DEC

M E H : I  7 D :  I J O B ? D =  8 O  9 B ? < < E H :  E B 7 D : 7O  Â&#x161;  F > E J E = H 7 F >  8 O  F7 K B  : ; B  H E I 7 H ? E F H E : K 9 J ? E D  7 I I ? I J7 D J I  ; : H ? 9  : ; B 7  H E I 7  7 D :  A 7 H 7  E H J ? = 7  Â&#x161;  ? D J ; H D  7 D J E D  C ? H 7 D : 7

2013

SANTONI SHOES

Luxury shoemaker Santoni is known for the crazy devotion it puts into every creation. To achieve, for example, the elegant burnish their shoes are known for, the Italian cobbler follows a hand-coloring technique that involves lots of wiping and rubbing and hours of slow work. Up to 15 shades (their own color recipes) are lovingly transposed onto precious skins. The first coat is drunk by the leather and then, using a wool cloth and a very soft touch, more layers are applied. Polishing is next: First, with a brush, and then, using natural creams and waxes, which are applied with cashmere and silk, by hand. The result is a unique patina, a gradation of tones that gives surfaces depth and, yes, drama. Shadows are heightened. Leather appears to glow. The shoe is more dynamic, more interesting to look at. Expect double takes and ogling eyes. Shangri-La Plaza, Mandaluyong City.

WorldMags.net

D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4 E S Q U I R E 61


WorldMags.net ESQUIRE STYLE

VISUAL GUIDE

ARCHETYPES

TIMELESS REFERENCES FOR THE WELL-DRESSED MAN

1

2 3

CLINT EASTWOOD Curling his lip and cocking his gun, Eastwood is the quintessential American cowboy. In spaghetti Westerns like The Good, the Bad and the Ugly, he rode into view in roughand-tumble denim. And though he was dirty, wrinkled, and bloody, the double-denim god looked good. 1. Jacket (P2,899) by Levi’s 2. Shirt (P4,295) by Ben Sherman 3. Sunglasses by Dolce and Gabbana at Eye Society 4. Boots (P21,650) by Marlboro Classics 5. Shirt (P5,650) by Tommy Hilfiger 6. Hat (P5,450) by Marlboro Classics 7. Watch (P141,000) by DOXA 8. Jeans (P9,950) by Marlboro Classics 9. Jeans (P4,650) by Superdry

5

7

8

6

62 E S Q U I R E D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4

WorldMags.net

9

M E H : I  7 D :  I J O B ? D =  8 O  9 B ? < < E H :  E B 7 D : 7O  š  F > E J E = H 7 F > I  8 O  F7 K B  : ; B  H E I 7 H ? E  š  ? B B K I J H 7J ? E D I  8 O  7 BO I I ;  7 I ? B E

4


WorldMags.net

WorldMags.net


STEVE MCQUEEN WorldMags.net

Even if he was wearing the most cordial piece of clothing like, say, the shawl collar cardigan (a style he became known for in the movie Bullitt), McQueen had the ability to transmit a quality of effortless cool. He was elegant. He was laidback. It was magic.

ESQUIRE STYLE

1

1. Cardigan (P20,500) by Ralph Lauren 2. Shirt by Thom Browne (P15,998) at Homme et Femme 3. All Dial watch (P42,500) by Mido 4. Money clip (P2,500) by Cole Haan 5. Sunglasses by Persol at Eye Society 6. Sneakers (P4,250) by Le Coq Sportif 7. Socks (P595) by Tommy Hilfiger 8. Chinos (P19,498) by Balenciaga at Homme et Femme 9. Multifort Chronograph watch (P99,500) by Mido 10. Belt (P3,657) by Ralph Lauren 11. Cardigan (P7,250) by Superdry 12. Sweater (P35,398) by Maison Kitsune at Homme et Femme

2

4

3

5

6 11

7

12

8

10

64 E S Q U I R E D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4

9H;:?JI=E>;H;

9

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

WorldMags.net


ESQUIRE STYLE

WorldMags.net 3

4

2

1

5

8

7

9

6

MARLON BRANDO Brando’s biker look in The Wild One embodied the rebel spirit of the ‘50s. Regular Joes emulated his badass energy with leather jackets, while ladies swooned over the masculine appeal of his armhugging T-shirts. These still work today.

66 E S Q U I R E D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4

9H;:?JI=E>;H;

1. Jeans (P15,898) by Acne at Homme et Femme 2. Boots (P10,500) by Superdry 3. Belt (P2,000) by Cole Haan 4. HyperChrome watch (P159,000) by Rado 5. Sunglasses (P17,900) by Giorgio Armani at Eye Society 6. T-shirt (P1,495) by Ben Sherman 7. D-Star watch (P86,700) by Rado 8. Jacket (P109,995) by Porsche Design 9. T-shirt (P1,495) by Ben Sherman

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net 7

ESQUIRE STYLE

6

1

5

2

4

3

8

9

12 10 11

JOHN F. KENNEDY Aside from being the leader of the free world, JFK was a beacon of preppy style. The most stylish American President preferred his suits and ties slim and his loafers with socks. He was never under-dressed— never ever—whether he was chilling on a yacht or solving a crisis at the Oval Office.

13

9H;:?JI=E>;H;

14

1. Shirt (P7,450) by Ralph Lauren 2. Necktie (P6,650) by Ralph Lauren 3. Tie bar (P16,298) by Thom Browne at Homme et Femme. 4. Slim Line Index watch (P87,700) by Frederique Constant 5. Penny loafers by (P28,100) Santoni 6. Socks (P1,250) by Ralph Lauren 7. Belt (P4,250) by Marlboro Classics 8. Shirt (P9,500) by Ralph Lauren 9. Wallet (P4,800) by Cole Haan 10. Chinos (P6,650) by Ralph Lauren 11. Key case (P5,250) by Ralph Lauren 12. Carree watch (P83,900) by Frederique Constant 13. Sunglasses by Oliver Peoples at Eye Society 14. Suit jacket by Hackett (P58,500) at Rustan’s

68 E S Q U I R E D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

WorldMags.net


ESQUIRE STYLE

WorldMags.net

The Oris diving event in Hong Kong had champion diver Carlos Costa (here and rightmost) plunging into the water with members of Asian media.

WATCHES

ORIS AQUIS DEPTH GAUGE

THE SWISS LUXURY BRAND HAS CREATED YOUR NEW COMPANION UNDER THE SEA BY JEROME GOMEZ

The trouble watch companies go through to make a point. Oris, the Swiss watch company known for its luxury mechanical timepieces, in September gathered lifestyle journalists from all over Asia, booked them in a hotel with a spectacular view of the Hong Kong harbor, then ushered them all to a boat for a freediving activity specifically to test drive its newest timepiece: the Oris Aquis Depth Gauge. The evening before the dive, cocktails were served at the Oris boutique beside the Marco Polo hotel where we first meet the watch and given the chance to 'own' it for the next 24 hours. The point the Oris guys would like to make, by the way, is that this is the most important diving watch of the moment. The Aquis Depth Gauge is an innovation on the previous Aquis Model which boasted an “automatic mechanical movement, water-resistance to 50 bar/500m, and a unidirectional revolving top ring with a 60-minutes timer scale.” This new baby's central achievement is in how it has made gauging how far deep you've gone in the ocean highly visible and easier to tell—supremely important considerations in the field of diving watches. It’s quite simple how it works: Through a small hole built directly in the sapphire crystal, water is allowed to enter through

70 E S Q U I R E D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4

a milled channel which looks like a lithe circular tube. The part of the tube with water will turn dark grey while the compressed air part will remain light grey—the point where they meet tells you how far deep you are in the ocean, with a little help from the yellow meter scale immediately beside the milled channel. The fact that Oris launched this new timepiece on the eve of the company centenary all the more makes it important. And just by its considerable weight on the wrist, it feels like it is. It’s a hefty piece of arm candy, seriously sporty and handsome. You can even opt for the brown leather strap if rubber is not your thing. The folding clasp is easily adjustable, especially for wearing on top of your wetsuit’s sleeve. That is if you’d like to bother with all that diving ceremony. But trust that its elegance doesn’t diminish whether on land or under the sea.

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

WorldMags.net


ESQUIRE STYLE

WorldMags.net

HARRY,

WATCHES

HARRY WINSTON OCEAN TOURBILLON JUMPING HOUR TWO COMPLICATIONS IN ONE LUXURY PACKAGE

Glance. Read. Go. It only takes a second to look at your watch, but the folks at Harry Winston would like to change that with a timepiece that demands your attention. So imagine, every time you look at this watch, a symphony of high horology stares at you. Gears are ticking, whirring, moving. Numbers pop. It’s like looking into the birth of time itself. To create a visual experience that goes beyond figuring out if you’re early or late, the timepiece pairs two complications together. The whirlwind kinetics of the tourbil-

lon spins below as the hour is revealed on the aperture of the jumping hour movement above. And to fit all that bits and bobs into one case, the anatomy of the steel bridge has been translated into a watch that appears to hold its components in space. Even the littlest details are perfected, from the black sapphire dial to the minute hand, which has been stripped down to a red arrowhead so as not to block the hour window when it moves. You'll always have the perfect view. Greenbelt 5, Makati City.

IT’S COMPLICATED Or it can be complicated. A watch tells time. When it provides more like, say, the phases of the moon, the watch acquires a complication. Some watchheads argue that the mesmerizing tourbillon is not a complication because it doesn’t offer new information. But the tourbillon, as created centuries ago, was designed to counteract the muddling effects of gravity in pocket watches, making the main function of the watch better, more accurate. Fast forward to modern horology, the tourbillon is put on the face of wristwatches, its magical workings exposed. The system of tiny gears, ticktick-tocking and spin-spin-spinning, is a complicated thing of beauty, a most sophisticated mechanism that has become a symbol of craftsmanship and luxury.—CLIFFORD OLANDAY

72 E S Q U I R E D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4

WorldMags.net

Aside from Dirty Harry, he’s the other Harry you should know. The jeweler Harry Winston was a rock star in the world of rocks. The most badass gems passed through his hands: the Hope Diamond; the Taylor-Burton, that 70-carat drop of ice that adorned the bosoms of Elizabeth; and the Briolette of India, which Winston is seen here studying in fervent concentration. Visual brilliance and technical skill was the signature of Winston, an artisan who believed that the starting point of his creations was the stone. In 1989, the Harry Winston company took the legendary expertise of its founder and poured it into timepieces. Like their cousins, these complicated or gemset watches are identified with the rarest of luxuries, an elegant accessory backed by technology. This comes as no surprise. Apart from leveraging the brand’s eight decades of bauble-making into time-crafting, the company has built it’s own Geneva facility, the Harry Winston Manufacture, where master watchmakers cook up these marvelous tickers.

8 EJ JE C 0  8 ; J J C 7 D %9 E H 8 ? I

THE JEWELER


WorldMags.net

WorldMags.net


ESQUIRE STYLE

WorldMags.net

WATCHES

TISSOT HERITAGE NAVIGATOR 160TH ANNIVERSARY WITH 24 TIME ZONES, YOU’LL NEVER BE LATE

Nothing gets watch aficionados’ hearts racing than an ultra-rare timepiece. In 1953, Tissot celebrated its first 100 years by releasing the Navigator, a watch that featured an impressive 24 time zones. With the names of the capitals on its dial, the Navigator was a true traveler’s watch that reflected the company’s thrust to conquer new horizons from its base in Le Locle, Switzerland. Sixty years later, Tissot re-releases the classic model with the Heritage Navigator 160th Anniversary. This is a near replica of the original, making it a worthy consideration for people looking to own a piece of watchmaking history. Only a few changes has been made, including a much larger size (the better to read

all that data) and a couple of location swaps. But the original’s vintage styling, including that parade of countries, represented by its capitals, from Geneva to Bangkok to Auckland to New York, remains. The front of this watch—which is formed by three circles, starting from the outer 12-hour bezel, the middle 24-hour index, and the inner cities disc—is a singular design, something that you don’t see quite often. How does this work? Once you choose your city, the times in the other 23 zones can be read against the 24-hour index.—JB BRIZUELA Tissot Shop, Tempus Watch Store, Montre Watch Store.

GLOBAL TIMING

1853 Two time zones on a pocket watch. Tissot embraces the spirit of travel.

1904 The Swiss company ventures into Russia. A pocket watch, the Czar's Watch, is made for the Imperial Court of Czar Nicolas II.

74 E S Q U I R E D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4

1919 The Porto with its tonneau-shaped case is born. This remains a classic.

1953 Tissot puts “the globe on your wrist” with the Navigator, a watch that displays 24 time zones.

1965 Tissot hits the road with the vintage car-inspired PR 516 Automatic Seastar.

WorldMags.net

1999 Breakthrough! The T-Touch, the first touch-screen watch, is here.


WorldMags.net

FLAUNT YOUR STRENGTH

© 2012 Revlon

NEW REVLON BRILLIANT STRENGTH™ NAIL ENAMEL WITH BUILT-IN BASE AND TOP COAT Pack a powerful punch of color. This strengthening formula combats breaking and brittleness and features a built-in protective base and top coat for stronger, harder, knockout nails. In 24 brilliant shades. Emma Stone wears new Revlon Brilliant Strength™ Nail Enamel in “Captivate”. To view more of Emma’s looks go to Revlon.com

WorldMags.net


ESQUIRE STYLE

WorldMags.net

WATCHES

RADO HYPERCHROME UTC COOL AND CLASSIC IN HIGH-TECH CERAMIC

First established in 1917, in the small Swiss town of Lengnau, by brothers Fritz, Ernst, and Werner Schlup, Rado has built a reputation as a master of materials. This watch, the Rado HyperChrome UTC, employs its signature ceramic case and monobloc construction. While many equate the use of steel, platinum, or gold with premium quality, ceramic represents the pinnacle of high-tech watchmaking. It is light, comfortable, durable, and scratch-resistant, all qualities that come in handy when you’re busy moving about and circling the globe. That

UTC part of the watch’s handle stands for Coordinated Universal Time, which is considered more accurate than the traditional GMT or Greenwich Mean Time. It is quite functional especially if you want to know the local time at your point of origin and destination at the same time. But even if travel is not an ordinary occurrence for you, just the classic look, versatility, and sophistication of this baby is enough reason for a trip to the watch store.—JB BRIZUELA Rado Shop, Tempus Watch Store, Montre Watch Store.

D I A M O N DS? Y E S. Whenever sparkling rocks are involved, the key is to keep things understated. Rado presents a viable option for wearing of ice around your wrist. Building on that signature high-tech ceramic as its base, the HyperChrome Diamonds injects the right dose of opulence, up to 181 diamonds, in the right place, on its bezel. With a halo of stones, everything else is kept quiet, from the monochrome styling (all black or all white) to the sleek line indices on the face. Think brilliance instead of flash. Also, choose black.

76 E S Q U I R E D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

WorldMags.net


NOTES

ABDUL SALAM TAILOR

1. Be particular. Salam asks clients to bring in a favorite shirt, so he has an idea of what you like. “I ask them to send me photos, or if they have the specific collar or detail they want, I ask them to bring it in,” he says. In other words, give references so there’s no room for misinterpretation. “It’s a matter of knowing what you want and helping you find that compromise until we’re both happy,” he adds.

THE GUIDE

CUT AND SEW

WHAT’S THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN THE NEIGHBORHOOD TAILOR AND A DESIGNER NAME? AND WILL THE PRICE YOU PAY BE WORTH IT? BY NANA CARAGAY

In the world of bespoke, which one reigns supreme: the family tailor or the designer name. It all comes down to one thing: whether or not you know what you’re looking for. “If you’re very particular and sure about what you want, I’d recommend going to a tailor,” advises Abdul Salam, the man behind White Planes Workshop, which specializes in creating custom-made casual shirts, dress shirts, barongs, and guayaberas. His clients have strong opinions about what they like—and don’t like—when it comes to a range of issues, including how tightly the sleeves should fit and how long the shirt should be. The more specific and detailed you are about your preferences and instructions, the easier it will be to execute. Tailors can also give advice about technical matters like fit, fabric, drape, and construction. Because they’ve been doing this for years, it’s likely they have an archive of the many different styles available for everything, from cuffs to collar lengths, and all that’s left for you to do is pick the one you want. If your tastes lean toward the traditional, this is the way to go. If what you want, however, is to make a particular style statement—for, say, your wedding

or a fancy dinner—then a designer is your man. They can steer you toward looks that are more up-to-date and fashion-forward, as well as give you advice on any flaws you might want to camouflage. “For a designer, it’s always problemsolving,” explains JC Buendia. So first he looks at your build and body type and then thinks of ways to flatter it, such as adjusting the thickness of a coat’s pads to suit the broadness or narrowness of your shoulders. Of course, you can also count on a designer to pay attention to the little details that add a touch of luxury. In the case of Buendia, he personalizes his creations by embroidering initials or adding a printed lining. “If you want a little more oomph, then go to a designer,” he declares. In matters of price, however, it’s no secret that a designer will cost more. But it boils down to how willing you are to invest in the difference. “At the end of the day, you get what you pay for,” says Salam. There are good tailors and there are bad tailors, just as there are good designers as well as bad designers. It might be a process of trial and error until you find the one you’re comfortable with, but when you do, it’s a relationship that could work for the long haul.

78 E S Q U I R E D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4

WorldMags.net

2. Be patient. You may have to try several tailors before you find the one that gets you. “It’s kind of like going to a barber or mechanic. You go to a guy who knows what you want or that you’ve dealt with before,” he says. “Like a family doctor, you should have your own guy. But it might take a while for you to find him.” 148 ATC, Katipunan Avenue, Quezon City, whiteplanesworkshop@gmail.com. JC BUENDIA DESIGNER

1. Do your research. ���We have a lot of designers, but we only have a handful of menswear designers. Go for the designers who are known for menswear.” 2. Trust him. “There are clients who come to me with themes, like one who wanted to wear a Victorian-style cravat.” he relates. “It’s my job to temper their expectations. I think clients appreciate my honesty. I tell them, ‘Oh no, you can’t wear a powder blue suit!’” 3. Ask questions. Designers can give expert advice on matters like whether or not you can pull off a bowtie, so it would be a shame not to seek his opinion. And on that note, “Asians have rounder faces, so sometimes the sharper look that a necktie gives you is better than a bowtie,” he advises. +632 438 90 14

8;JJC7D%9EH8?I

For the rips and kinks of life, a needle-wielding tailor is good to have nearby (or on speed dial). Just ask John Wayne on the set of Red River.

ESQUIRE STYLE

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

WorldMags.net


ESQUIRE STYLE

WorldMags.net 4

3

1

5

2

SCENTS

YOUR NOSE KNOWS KNOW WHAT YOU LIKE

SMELL YOUR SHIRT

WALK AWAY

BE FAITHFUL

Say you like spaghetti, and there are eight Italian joints in the neighborhood. You nosh around until you find your favorite, right? The same applies to scents. You have to know your genre. Are you a floral, oriental, woody, or fresh kind of guy? Then, if you really, really care about how you smell, you'll do the leg—or nose—work, and brave the perfume floor.

After every whiff, the shop girl will encourage you to smell coffee beans. These cleanse your palate, she says, but what they really do is introduce a new scent, which only muddles your judgment. Smell your (preferably clean) shirt instead. It's something you're accustomed to. It's neutral. Then, try a new scent.

If the pushy perfume guys have their way, you’ll be leaving with bottles of cologne clinking in your arms. Don't get pressured into buying whatever. But do ask them to recommend scents in the genre you like. Spray it on your skin and walk away. Live with it for a day. And come back if you like it.

You can wear different scents for different outfits and occasions, but here’s a strong case for consistency: A scent forms part of your presence, and being faithful to one strengthens this. A tip: Use unscented deodorant and mild detergents, so that your perfume doesn't have to compete with other smells. This enhances your olfactory identity even more.

ABOUT THE SCENTS 1. Bulgari Man Extreme The forest-y mix of citrus and vetiver can go from boardroom meeting to nighttime date. 2. Serge Lutens La Fille De Berlin Men can wear elegant florals. This rose scent is dark enough for you. 3. Aramis Gentleman Spicy ginger and black pepper makes for intense stuff. Wear with confidence. 4. Shiseido Zen for Men Sun Japanese fruits Nashi pear and yuzu citrus are packed with bergamot and mint for an aquatic spritz. 5. Aigner No 1 Intense Citruses plus amber plus agarwood make for an unabashedly powerful and, more important, lasting impression.

80 E S Q U I R E D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4

WorldMags.net

P H O T O G R A P H B Y PA U L D E L R O S A R I O š   S T Y L I N G B Y C L I F F O R D O L A N D AY

PICKING A SCENT? HERE’S HOW.


WorldMags.net

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

FOR THOSE WHO FLY FIRST CLASS AND CAN STILL TAKE THE ROAD LESS TRAVELED.

LIFE AT ITS BEST. @TownCountryPH

facebook.com/TownandCountryPH WorldMags.net

townandcountryph


WorldMags.net HAIR

TRIPLE THERAPY

Here’s what happens when you lose your mop: Before hair is lost, several years

of miniaturization of hair go by. The hair becomes smaller and smaller, and its growing phases become shorter and shorter. Finally, they die. “But because the pattern is predictable, these can be treated with triple therapy, which includes hair transplantation and medications,” says Dr. Jose A. Crisanto III, a general surgeon specializing in hair restoration and transplantation at Aivee AguilarTeo M.D. The Skin and Laser Clinic. Here’s how they do it:

Laser Therapy

I L L L U S T R AT I O N S B Y A LY S S E A S I L O

Lasers, which are used for pattern hair loss, are absorbed by the tissue to stimulate to hair regrowth. It is a painless treatment with zero downtime and no special post-treatment care.

Growth Factor Treatment

Hair Transplantation

Think of growth factors as the body's engines that drive wounds to heal. These engines are harvested by drawing blood, which is then processed to extract platelet-rich plasma. Growth factors play key roles in tissue repair, which translates to more hair.

This is a minor surgical procedure confined to the skin. The doctor moves grafts with hair follicles to a bald or balding spot. It is a safe procedure performed under local anesthesia and with few complications. —IETH INOLINO

…AND NOW, HELP IN A BOTTLE Hair is born on your scalp so, if you want a fuller mane, you got to take care of what’s underneath that dying bush. This tiny vial from Densifique is like a mother for your noggin. With a very science-y sounding molecule called Stemoxydine, plus a slew of good-for-your-scalp stuff, the potion promises to recreate the beneficial effects of the environment required for proper and regular hair growth, and that leads to more volume on top. P3,904 for 10 vials. www.kerastase.ph SKIN

KIEHL'S X HAZE Your bathroom counter just got cooler. Eric Haze, the guy that helped define the graphic look of hip-hop with works for Public Enemy, Beastie Boys, and LL Cool J, creates artwork for Kiehl’s. For the skincare brand, Haze translates the spray-on swirls of graffitti into a vibrant pattern made up of stars and the letter K. Look for the limited-edition art on the packaging of the Ultra Facial Cream (P4,225 for 125 ml) and Calendula Toner (P2,150 for 250 ml). The cream drinks up moisture from the air to provide 24-hour hydration, while the toner leaves skin smooth just how your girl likes it. Both are staples of your grooming regimen. www.kiehls.com

WorldMags.net


ESQUIRE STYLE

WorldMags.net

ST YLE PROFILE

DAVID GANDY

THE INTERNATIONAL MALE MODEL TAKES ON THE LOCAL FASHION SCENE. You’ve seen this fellow. He’s that guy in a dinghy with a bikiniclad goddess draped around him. And even though he’s sporting an itsy bitsy white banana hammock, he always gets the girl. Always. There was Marija Vujovic, Anna Jagodzinksa, and most recently, for that famous Dolce & Gabbana cologne ad, the blue-eyed babe Bianca Balti. Brit-born model David Gandy is a man you can look up to. He drives Jaguars and Ferraris for fun. He writes about cars. He loves them. “I can’t say how many [I have], but I’ve got a couple of classic cars that are being renovated. I’d like to call them investments,” he says. “That’s not what my accountant says, but they’re investments.” He’s a modern man who wears clothes damn well, too. With immortal icons Steve McQueen and Paul Newman as his inspirations, David shifts from classic to contemporary style for what he de-

84 E S Q U I R E D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4

scribes as a “patchwork of stuff.” For him, the suit is most essential. “You can separate a suit, and that’s what people don’t quite realize because they put it all together. But I wear [it] with so many different things,” he shares. “I mean, you can take the trousers and wear them [separately] or take the jacket and wear it with something else.” Most important, he knows the value of style. And that’s why David, one of the most successful male models in the world, partnered with SM Men’s Fashion. Just like the local retail hub, he believes in making style, whether we’re talking about a two-piece suit or a swimsuit, “accessible and tangible for everyone.” For more of David Gandy, pick up Esquire Philippines’ Big Black Book.

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net WHAT MEN

THE ESQUIRE SURVEY

AROUND THE WORLD TALK ABOUT

ESQUIRE DECODES THE FILIPINO MAN In a global study, 15,500 NIVEA MEN from 17 countries were asked about the weeknight habits that define the modern man. How do Filipino men stack up? See how NIVEA MEN in the Philipines define themselves, and how they rank with the rest of the world in this survey conducted by NIVEA MEN and Esquire.

Worldwide, work is the conversation topic of choice between men, followed by money, women, and music, with cars coming in fourth.

The ideal wife Men who go out with their friends more than once during the working week earn more money and are happier than their counterparts. Being with friends makes men feel like they are achieving more.

Beer Tastes

Local beer wins, even with the increasing availability of imported brands.

70.49%

100%

1

2

HANGING OUT WITH FRIENDS

LOCAL BEER

5 4

3

1. Earth-shattering sex, 2. Potential to become a good mother to their future children, 3. Soul Mate, 4. Looks, 5. Career.

Whereâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s the booze at? Most Filipino men consume the most alcohol beverages at home (Inebriation at its safest.)

What makes a hot car Horsepower > brand name

57.38% Home

Bars & Restos

36.89% 27.83%

Special Occasions On Vacation

27.83%

7.38%

WorldMags.net

42.62% BRAND


WorldMags.net Where to work Smooth vs Stubble Sports vs Gym

ADVERTISING FEATURE

Nearly balanced, but most of the guys prefer a cleanshaven face.

40.16%

3Hrs

59.84%

33.61% 22.95% 20.49% 14.75% 33.61% - work for a multinational company. 22.95% - work for a small but stable business 20.49% - freelancing 14.75% - work for a promising startup 8.20% - continue the family business.

Light vs Dark Nope. Most men use whitening skincare products, believing fair skin helps bag the beauties.

WHITENING

What a good job should offer

Sports. Itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s less boring.

53.28%

30.33% 27.05% 17.21% 13.11%

Respondents also said that they devote an average of three hours a week to fitness, with 17.21% saying that they spend more than 10 hours a week working out.

The daily cleansing ritual

P

The meat that matters most

30.33% - good salary, followed by more free time, a fun office environment, excellent benefits and a clear path for promotion.

More pay vs more free time 53.28%

P

Beef, chicken, fish and pork. In that order.

39.34%

46.72%

Though more men answered that they would rather have a high-paying job over one that offered them more free time, the margin between the two is actually very slim, with 46.72% of respondents saying that they preferred a job where they had more opportunity to pursue their interests.

1

27.87%

20.49%

12.3%

39.34% use a facial scrub, with granules that provide deep cleaning to help remove whiteheads and blackheads. The rest use facial foam or bar soap.

2 3

4

45.08% 23.77% 16.39% 14.75%

How much sleep? Most Filipino men are getting less than eight hours a night.

Moisturize?

Good grooming vs Fashionable styling Good grooming always comes first.

83.61% WELL-GROOMED

16.39%

FASHIONABLY DRESSED

The house is divided, but those that moisturize do it on a regular basis, though just on the face. (Men really ought to moisturize all over because, it helps keep skin on the rest of the body supple)

Roll-on vs Stick vs Spray Most men prefer to roll.

Who dresses you? Just slightly more men claim their significant others have a say in what they wear.

43.8%

48%

28.10%

28.10%

MIGHTY FINE

52%

Grooming with guys

Bling vs Basics

For nearly 95% of Filipino men, appearances count, even with close friends.

Keeping it real with a watch, a bracelet, or wedding band.

95% $

WorldMags.net

No sweeping statements here, but it seems the Filipino, on average, is a fine specimen of gentlemanly conduct. No shortcuts (to the top), no bull, no nonsense. A well-rounded individual who puts a premium on family, friends, success, health, integrity and looking good. And, thanks to NIVEA MEN, looking good is always easy for the Filipino Gentleman.


PROMOTION

WorldMags.net

Take a retro trip right through tomorrow, with Onitsuka Tiger. Inspired by 80’s running shoes, the T-Stormer is made with modern materials and technology, featuring a molded midsole and outsole to give a dynamic aesthetic. Small design accents like the reinforcement perforations on the T-Toe and heel counter give the shoe a fresh look. To learn more, visit www. onitsukatiger.com.ph.

A SALUTE TO THE MILITARY Swiss Military Hanowa brings together the features of outstanding sports watches—strength, functionality and reliability—to create a watch that truly captures the summit of technology and craftsmanship: Flagship. This is a watch that delivers rugged precision, sophistication and style; the black-and-white dial and black bezel are teamed with durable stainless steel bracelets or black leather straps. With 10ATM water resistance, the Flagship watch showcases the blend of practical durability with gentlemanly elegance. Available at selected Swiss Gear, Wrist Pod , L Timestudio and Department Stores.

TRAVEL BEYOND LIGHT With a design philosophy rooted in the tradition of the Swiss Army Knife, the Victorinox Avolve 2.0 Collection is full of functionality, letting you travel virtually anywhere at will. The wheels are designed for 360° movement, for mobility even down narrow airplane aisles, while offering a smooth roll through crowded terminals. A durable framing system provides superior protection for the contents, while the intelligent combination of form and function lets you organize things quickly and easily. Avolve 2.0 uses ultra-lightweight materials to make your luggage easy to lift—and keep excess baggage fees to a minimum.

WorldMags.net

STYLEAGENDA

PAST THE FUTURE


WorldMags.net

WorldMags.net


PROMOTION

WorldMags.net

Wherever you’re going, make sure your most valuable cameras, gadgets and documents are safe and secure with Camsafe bags. Designed for the active traveler and photographer looking to blend in, this versatile, convenient pack offers secure quick access to your equipment and total peace of mind. Simply sling the bag round and get shooting! Each bag is ruggedly-built and water-resistant, with a strong, slash-proof Carrysafe strap and multiple compartments that can accommodate most SLRs, plus lenses, batteries and accessories.

THE LARGER THAN LIFE MINI Understated but never underestimated—that’s the MyPhone Agua Iceberg mini. The Iceberg features a 5” Full High-Definition (HD) display, made with tough yet lightweight Corning Gorilla Glass. It runs Android Jelly Bean 4.2.2 on a 1.5 GHz Quad-Core processor, with 16 GB Internal Memory and 2GB of RAM. Photos are a breeze with its 13MP rear camera, and video chats and selfies are always more vivid, thanks to its 5MP front camera. For full peace of mind, the MyPhone Iceberg comes pre-embedded with the Theft Apprehension and Asset Recovery application (TARA), a world-first in anti-theft technology. Visit www.myphone.com.ph for more details.

WALK WITH GOLD Celebrate the truly festive spirit of the season with Johnnie Walker Gold Label Reserve, the Celebration Blend. This blend comes from an unbroken lineage of blending craftsmanship stretching back almost 200 years. Created from an unrivalled palette of whiskies, and the uncompromising expertise of today’s Master Blender, Johnnie Walker Gold Label Reserve is whisky experience like never before: luxuriously smooth, creamy, it is a multi-layered blend of sweet fruit flavours and delicately honeyed tones, finishing in lingering waves of wood, and light, sweet West-Coast smoke. It comes in a striking, reflective gold limited-edition bottle that captures the bright mood of the season, and makes it a most handsome gift for others— and for yourself.

WorldMags.net

STYLEAGENDA

TRAVEL SECURELY


WorldMags.net

WorldMags.net


PROMOTION

WorldMags.net Deep in the heart of Andalucia’s Jerez de la Frontera is the Bodega San Bruno, where the story of Emperador Deluxe Spanish Edition begins. Here, age-old brandy-making skills going back six generations still thrive. Experienced vintners still distill wine made from delicious palomino and airén grapes, and carefully age the distillate in oak barrels. This is where Emperador Deluxe Spanish Edition is born—a deep, golden liquor possessing a fine aroma, with notes of wine grapes and hints of orange peel and walnut. It is a high example of the brandy maker’s art at its finest, a spirit of exceptional color, aroma, texture, and taste, which you can savor in the comfort of home, and proudly share with friends and colleagues.

MAN UP THIS CHRISTMAS Take the season by storm, with Oakley’s amazing rugged—yet simultaneously stylish—guy gear! Check out the utterly edgy Oakley Computer Bag, which protectively holds any laptop with up to a 17” widescreen. Take a long look at the unbelievably durable Kitchen Sink Backpack, with plenty of pockets and compartments to safely stash gadgets, gear and your other personal goodies. Go rolling with the super-strong 2-1 Blade Pack, a roomy yet robust backpack that keeps all your gear water-proof and ready to go! Look for Oakley gear at O Stores in SM Aura, Greenbelt, and at GForce Shangri-La.

VISIBLE PERFORMANCE Whether you’re out to win, or just out for fun, make sure you put peformance first with Nike Vision. These shades use lightweight, ultra-modern materials that provide optimum comfort and protection, without sacrificing style or design. Nike Vision offers up to 9 different looks, ranging from classic to trendy to futuristic, making sure you look good, whatever you’re looking at. See the range at www.nikevision.com.

REDEFINING TIME Unisilver time has created inroads in the Philippine Watch Industry. As a tribute, Unisilver Time is proud to launch its new brand, the (MOA) Master of Art Series. The Men’s MOA Decagon detailed dial is overlaid with a 10-sided ring, the decagon: a symbol of perfection. The dial and reliable quartz mechanism is encased in a solid and sturdy stainless steel case. The genuine black leather is hypoallergenic and durable. The countours of the stainless steel casing and the leather blend together for a streamlined and polished appeal on the wrist. It has a versatile design that can coordinate well with a casual outfit or match the dressiest and most formal attire in one’s closet. The Decagon Luxury Watch is available in regular size and junior size, and has an offwhite or black dial. Unisilver Time is available in all Robinsons Malls, SM Malls and Waltermart branches nationwide. For more product information, please visit www.unisilver.com or call 09228278767.

WorldMags.net

STYLEAGENDA

THE BEST OF SPAIN, TO YOUR HOME AND IN YOUR HAND.


WorldMags.net

WorldMags.net


PROMOTION

WorldMags.net Founded in 1989, Yak Pak began life in a college dorm room and quickly expanded to become a trendy New York lifestyle accessory, offering street-smart backpacks, messenger bags and casual accessories for teens and college students. With innovative styles and designs, Yak Pak brings in bold colors and expressive prints that echo the street-wise spirit of freedom and independence of the 21st century citizen.

A TIME TO GIVE For the past seven years Guess Watches has worked to make a meaningful difference in the lives of children, through its “Faces to Watch—Time to Give” program, donating over $4.5million to more than 7 charities on 4 continents. This year, Guess Watches is launching its seventh Limited Edition “Time to Give” Watch for Fall 2013. Featuring animal-inspired prints and “G” logos, the watch also has a genuine leather strap of python-inspired print in metallic silver tones and a silver-tone case glistening with a bezel of crystals. A portion from each sale goes to the Chosen Children Village, located in Manila, a permanent home for children who have been abandoned or surrendered by their parents. The organization strives to create a loving home environment for these children with educational, medical, nutritional and rehabilitative care. Your purchase of this watch will make a positive impact on the lives of these children. To learn more about Chosen Children Village, visit www.chosenchildrenvillage.org

WALK OUT TO WINTER Italian heritage brand Ellesse presents its Autumn/Winter 2013 collection, which seeks to inject the spirit of fun and excitement embodied by its current collection Sport Della Vita (Sport of Life). The collection runs from the brand’s signature polo shirts bearing Ellesse’s classic semi palla logo, to basic shirts, cardigans, outerwear and a new line of footwear. An update to classic sneakers, Ellesse’s shoes add unique elements like attractive colors, prints and patterns that give each piece a more stylish spin. The classic lines give the shoes a more dignified feel, befitting the exquisite craftsmanship that goes into making each pair of Ellesse footwear. Visit Ellesse stores at Bonifacio High Street Central and Alabang Town Center. Ellesse is also available at Res|Toe|Run and Bratpack outlets.

MORE JUICE IS GOOD NEWS If you want to fuel your body with all the anti-oxidants and nutrients it needs, you need to Juice Up. Juice Up is made from 100% natural, fresh, raw, clean, and quality ingredients that deliver all the goodness that nature intended you to have. Whether you’re looking for a refreshing way to detox away, a delicious plan for dropping some pounds, or a tastier path to building resistance, Juice Up is the absolutely wholesome way to go! Checkout our lineup at facebook.com/juice.up.ph

WorldMags.net

STYLEAGENDA

THE SPIRIT OF URBAN FREEDOM


WorldMags.net

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

For passion that inspires beyond words, check the label.

For magazines that move, inspire, and change lives, look for the true symbol of passion found only in Summit titles. Only our magazines deliver what you need窶馬ot merely colorful words and images, but features that jump off the page and matter in real life. Your life.

WorldMags.net

realliving


PROMOTIONS

HOME

WorldMags.net

TO THE

JAPANESEHEARTED IN YANAGI, EVERY MEAL IS A BOUNTIFUL AND SUMPTUOUS FEAST FROM THEIR JAPANESE-LED KITCHEN.

THE MAN OF THE KITCHEN Cravings as we may frequently have them, when it comes to buffets, our usual reservations is the quality of food served to us. We say, it all depends on the man in the kitchen.

The man behind Yanagi’s is Chef Kimito Katagiri, a Japanese chef who has been cooking in the country for almost 30 years. He heads an all-Filipino crew with whom he imparts the skills and artistry required in preparing the cuisine. According to him, fresh and high-quality ingredients are key in consistently tasteful Japanese food. Nothing goes out of his kitchen that: 1) are not export-quality; and 2) have not been bought fresh straight from the market.

ESPECIALLY CRAFTED DISHES Apart from the restaurant’s buffet spreads, you will be happy to have not missed the restaurant’s a la carte dishes. Each and every dish was especially crafted by Chef Katagiri to cater to the taste of Filipinos.

Tempura Maki are thick rolls with prawn tempura and are considered to be one Chef Katagiri’s best-sellers. While the Aburisushi plates five kinds of slightly burned sushi that melts in your mouth: tuna, salmon, eel, hamachi, and lapu-lapu. The Kaki Papaya Yaki is

grilled Japanese oyster put in papaya with miso sauce—an attempt in combining both Japanese and Filipino ways of cooking made successful in every bite. YOUR EXPERIENCE AWAITS Just imagine how much you are missing if you haven’t given this restaurant a visit. Next time you make reservations for a lunch or dinner buffet, make it in Yanagi. Claim this authentic experience in the land of the rising sun, situated right in the pearl of the orient seas.

“We can, we do,” is the motto of Chef Katagiri when it comes to pleasing the guests of the restaurant. For every guest to enter Yanagi, the kitchen’s main goal is to have them leave the restaurant always full and happy.

MIDAS HOTEL AND CASINO 2702 Roxas Boulevard, Pasay City For reservations, call 902-0100 or e-mail info@midashotelandcasino.com

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

NOTES & ESSAYS DANTON REMOTO ON BEING GLOBAL MICHELANGELO SAMSON ON GLOBAL ART DARYLL DELGADO ON THE ART OF TRAVEL JOEL SALUD ON THE ART OF KILLING FRANCEZCA C. KWE ON KILLING TIME

CREDITS GO HERE

EDITED BY SARGE LACUESTA ILLUSTRATIONS BY JO AGUILAR

WorldMags.net

D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4 E S Q U I R E 101


NOTES & ESSAYS

NOTES & ESSAYS

WorldMags.net

I

EXPLAINING OURSELVES “YOUR ENGLISH IS BETTER THAN OURS, THAT MUCH I CAN SAY. SO WHERE DID YOU LEARN YOUR ENGLISH?” DANTON REMOTO

An issue of Time magazine 10 years ago sums up the Filipino quite neatly: “appearance-obsessed, tune-mad, witty to the depths of his Christian soul and besotted with the English language.” That is as good a starting point as any. Our obsession with looks explains the huge success of midnight madness sales. The arteries of EDSA are always clogged with the cholesterol of people and buses every time the malls from Makati to Quezon City decide to hold their sales, all at the same time. I’m not exempted from this, of course, now that my radio show Remoto Control ends at 8:15 PM and I can still run to the malls and join the mob. There was a spring sale in Scotland when I was studying there a century ago, so my Filipina friend Tina and I decided to check it out. The prices of the shoes were slashed by 50 percent! And so we decided to buy several pairs that, we reassured each other, would last us for years and we need not buy any other 102 E S Q U I R E D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4

pair in the next decade. I bought three pairs of shoes: a pair of purple suede shoes, brown loafers from Clarks, and Italian leather shoes that made me eat oats for the next three months. Tina bought 10 pairs. We were about to pay for our shoes when we overheard the cashier and her friend talking about a sensational case with amusement. The cheerful cashier said, “My, oh my, did you see her on the telly last night? Wearing that blue native dress with butterfly wings—on a cold, spring day in New York?” The cashier rolled her rrrs and spoke in Scottish brogue, but we had been there for so long we even spoke English with a Scottish accent. The female friend answered, “Felicity, do you remember how many pairs of shoes Imelda Marcos has?” But before Felicity could answer she has already seen us, at the 13 boxes of shoes piled in front of her cash register. “Oh, you must be buying shoes fer yer whole family, eh?” Tina and I looked at each other and smiled innocently. “By the wee, we’re you frum?” I glared at Tina. She cleared her throat before she spoke: “Ahhh . . . we’re from Asia.” “Of course, I can see that. But where in Asia? My eyes were already as big as my face as I looked at Tina. Tina answered, “Ahhhh, we live near Hong Kong.” Since I have Chinese eyes and Tina could pass for a Portuguesa, the woman just smiled and said, “Oh. Macau then. I saw that photograph of the cathedral— just a façade, really,” she continued, then rang up our merchandise. Tina and I paid for our 13 pairs of shoes, walked out of the shoe store—then entered the next shoe store. And now that my friends and I are between 50 and death, we have begun to become more conscious of our looks. When I told my boyfriend I already have streaks of white hair, he looked at me and peered at my head. “I don’t see them,” he said casually, “and even if you have, you can just dye your hair.” At first I was horrified, in my mind I could still see the yucky hair dye that I saw the old men before slather on their hair. But then I went to my hairdresser Tanya, who very patiently explained to me that there are now safe products whose subtle tints could darken the white streaks without destroying my

hair or burning my scalp. “Brown with tints of gold would be perfect for you,” Tanya said. When I said, “Why not black?” Tanya told me I didn’t want to look like those matrons with charcoal-black hair piled like beehives on their head, di ba? And the gym, of course. I took out a year’s worth of membership but stopped going to the gym when the elections campaign began. Now I am back, to shed the pounds (well, some pounds) I gained because I had to eat all the food that the people offered to me during the campaign. Music, too. My late mother taught music for 40 years, and she could play the accordion, the guitar, the bandurria, the flute, the harmonica, piano, the organ, and had a tutored soprano voice that, until now, I remember with a pang. My sister went to the Conservatory of Music at the University of Santo Tomas. Her son is now a Violin major at the same conservatory. My grandparents taught music as well, and played an assortment of musical instruments (trumpet, sax, trombone, violin, cello, drums), along with uncles and aunts, such that they used to have a band touring Albay in the 1960s called the Relato Music Jamboree. On my father’s side, I can still remember my grandmother, the one who took care of us when my parents were working, whose wonderful soprano also soared above everyone else’s in church. It has become a cliché, but go anywhere in Asia, hop aboard a boat, take a cruise in the Caribbean, and you will find a Filipino singer or band crooning and playing tune-perfect American songs. I’m sure there would have been Filipinos singing aboard the Titanic were we a European, and not an American, colony. My voice doesn’t have texture and so I’m embarrassed to sing, but my ears are pitch-perfect. I have written withering

WorldMags.net


reviews of some famous singers whose voices were sometimes a half note higher or lower than they should be. I told my editors before that, sorry, I grew up in a house where musical instruments were played every day, and family reunions were not complete without a veritable concert. Wit I’ve seen in the company of friends like Rolando S. Tinio, the late National Artist for Literature and Theater. I used to visit his house in Tandang Sora. One day I saw a big dog by the doorway. I told him I’m afraid of a dog bite, but he soothed my fears by saying, “Hay, that’s not really a dog. It’s just a statue pretending to be a dog.” My laughter must have roused the old dog from its ancient stupor, for it managed a weak bark. To prove to Rolando it really was a dog. If you want a generous sampling of wit and humor, read the novels of Gina Apostol (Gun Dealer’s Daughter), R. Zamora Linmark (Leche), Marivi Soliven (The Mango Bride), and Miguel Syjuco (Ilustrado). Very elegant novels, but the wit can also be venomous, and the humor coruscating. These four new novels can also be part of le boom in the Philippine novel in English that we have been waiting for so long, when a whole pack of talented Filipinos and Fil-Ams would begin publishing their works in the so-called cultural capitals of New York and London. Along with Jessica Hagedorn, Sabina Murray, Han Ong, and Bino Realuyo, they comprise the vanguard of Filipinos who have kicked the door open for our literature to be read, out there. And yes, the English language. Tina and I were attending a reception given by the Rotary Club of Stirling, Scotland, for the foreign students who were just beginning the term at the university. We talked to a jail warden and his wife who both noticed our English. “Your English is excellent,” said the jail warden. “Did you study in the United States?” “No,” we said. “Ahhhh, Canada then?” “No.” The couple looked at each other. “Australia? New Zealand? England?” “No. No. No.” So finally, perhaps wearily, the couple asked, “Your English is better than ours, that much I can say. So where did you learn your English?” I blurted, “Manila, the Philippines!” the way a beauty queen would have done

so, in introducing our mad and colorful country that is like nothing else in the whole, wide world. DANTON REMOTO Writer, professor, and radio anchor at 92.3 News FM

II

BETWEEN A JOKE AND A HARD PLACE KLEIN SOLD EIGHT OF HIS ZONES ON THE NIGHT, BUYERS PAYING FOR POCKETS OF EMPTINESS WITH GOLD, PROVING BEYOND DOUBT THAT THERE WAS SOMETHING IN THE ART OF NOTHING. MICHELANGELO SAMSON

Yasmina Reza’s play Art begins with the following lines: “My friend Serge has bought a painting. It’s a canvas about five foot by four: white. The background is white and if you screw up your eyes, you can make out some fine white diagonal lines.” The play unfolds with Serge telling his friend Marc how he has been lusting after this painting for months, that he has jumped some queue to get it. Seeing Marc’s dull reaction, Serge embellishes. He says there would be many who would take the work off his hands, the gallery who sold it to him for instance—they would buy it back with a tidy profit on what he paid. At the mention of money, Marc loses his temper. He is outraged that his friend, whom he otherwise respects, would pay so much for a blank painting. Soon, the exchange between the two men implicates the audience. Is the white painting art, or is it merely the invisible cloak that swindlers have palmed off on the emperor? Everyone can see the king is naked, but no one laughs for fear of looking stupid. I first saw Art nearly a decade ago and remember falling into the camp of the skeptics. I heard the arguments onstage but held on to my narrow definition of art. By coincidence, the bank I was working for at the time sponsored an exhibition called Encounters With Modernism. One of the works on show was a white painting called Monitor by Robert

WorldMags.net

Ryman whose whole practice, I learned then, had to do with using only white paint to avoid any semblance of expression. It was a case of art imitating Art. I left the show puzzled and suspicious, everything on offer sailing over my head. I suppose it’s how the character Marc would have reacted. When she wrote Art, Reza was pointing to a branch of conceptual art that was born when Marcel Duchamp exhibited an emptyseeming glass phial containing what he claimed were 50 cubic centimeters of genuine Paris air. The work, called Air de Paris, proceeded from Duchamp’s theories about making art from readymade objects. In this case, Duchamp took air—the most ephemeral of media, pervasive and accessible to all—and transformed it into a work with totemic value. Anyone doubting this need only visit Duchamp’s original ampoule now residing in the Philadelphia Museum of Art, suspended in a glass vitrine, set on a pedestal, remote, mythic, sacred. At some point, as evidenced by a web of cracks across its body, the bottle broke and had to be restored. Presumably, the air first bottled by the artist escaped in the breaking. Yet the work remains Air de Paris—the artist’s conceit trumping all things, even reality. Duchamp’s point was that by selecting a bottle and giving it a name, he changed its nature, imbuing it with his artistic sensibility. For Duchamp, it was this impulse, this almost divine force that lay at the heart of every artwork. Removing trappings of technique and material, art reduced to its purest form is an idea residing in the mind of the viewer, an idea placed there by the artist. I confess that back when I used to visit the Philadelphia Museum on the odd Wednesday afternoon when admission was free, I spent all my time in the Impressionist wing, never even seeing the Duchamp room where Air de Paris and other ready-mades held sway. Peter Aspden wrote about this effect in a recent Financial Times article, how the average visitor to contemporary art fairs is “caught between a joke and a hard place.” As with everything, there’s a learning curve. For instance, critics of the day dismissed Duchamp as a dead end. They failed to predict how his reputation would only grow over the years, his ideas ringing out across the plains of conceptual art, with successive waves of artists throwing themselves against the cliff face D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4 E S Q U I R E 103

NOTES & ESSAYS

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

NOTES & ESSAYS

he had scaled nearly a century before. In 1957, 35 years after Air de Paris, Yves Klein exhibited Le Vide (The Void)—an empty white gallery from which he cheekily offered collectors ‘zones of immateriality.’ Klein had gone beyond the old master, doing away with the bottle and presenting only air. Surprisingly, Klein sold eight of his zones on the night, buyers paying for pockets of emptiness with gold, proving beyond doubt that there was something in the art of nothing.

Recently, the Hayward Gallery in London mounted a retrospective called Invisible: Art about the Unseen 1957-2012, gathering fifty works devoid of visual interest, taking Klein’s seminal show as its starting point. In the Hayward’s warehouse-scale galleries, empty plinths stood against white stretches of wall, bare save for the occasional blank work, carefully framed and annotated. Here were diaries written with water from Song Dong and drawings made with invisible ink by Gianni Motti. Here was an invisible labyrinth by Jeppe Hein where visitors were asked to navigate the gallery floor wearing helmets that pinged when they hit an invisible wall. Here were white sheets of paper from Tom Friedman, one that he had stared at for 1,000 hours over a period of five years, and another of a Playboy centerfold that he had painstakingly erased until only the glossy white base underneath remained. There was much to laugh at in Invisible and the survey allowed as much, including works that were nothing more than pranks, such as the framed police report from Maurizio Catellan documenting the theft of an invisible sculpture from the boot of his car. Yet the show had more than laughter as its objective. Visitors were said to recoil when they read the inscription on Tom Friedman’s vacant plinth, the one where he had a witch place a curse on the negative space just above. Then there was the work by the performance artist James Lee Byars who had created 104 E S Q U I R E D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4

an installation about his own death, a pitch-black room that viewers entered through black velvet curtains. After the actual death of Byars, each time the room was recreated (as it was for Invisible) it felt like the ghost of the artist still sat quietly in the darkness. Then there was the work from Teresa Margolles who channeled water used to wash the bodies of murder victims in Mexico City through the gallery’s humidifiers, the work unwittingly taken in and absorbed by every visitor to the gallery. Beyond the jokes, these were the hard places Aspden wrote about—the nothing demanding everything. When he created Le Vide Klein, a devout Catholic, had in mind the fundamental dialogue between the viewer and a work of art. The artist makes the first move, but there must be a reciprocal response from the audience. These twin arcs trace a path of connection, no different from the belief required by religion. The leap that must be made is one of faith. Reza’s play ends in this way—with contact, with change. Marc stares intently at the white painting then says: “My friend Serge, who’s one of my oldest friends, has bought a painting. It’s a canvas about five foot by four. It represents a man who moves across a space and disappears.” Like others, I too have moved in space. What I look for now in art has changed. With images becoming readily available, even disposable, I find myself seeking work that cannot be processed in seconds. Two years ago, I was fortunate to have experienced Tony Oursler’s installation Talking Light. The work is halfway between the museum and the fun house. The viewer enters a dark room where motion sensors activate a recording connected to a bulb. While the voice speaks, the bulb is lit. When the viewer is motionless, the voice stops, returning the room to darkness. I had not heard of Oursler before, but found myself researching him later, moved as I was by his work. Sitting there in the dark, afraid to make any sound, I thought of ghosts, the burning bush, death, Jesus tempted by the devil. It’s true that some conceptual art is best left unseen. But once in a while, the current closes, a voice speaks, and there is an electric charge from the void. MICHELANGELO SAMSON Banker and fictionist

III

CONDITIONS OF STAY SOMETIMES, JUST WHEN YOU THINK YOU HAVE ADJUSTED TO THE PLACE, TO THE YOU WHO IS A RESIDENT OF THIS PLACE, YOU WAKE UP IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT, HEART RACING FOR NO REASON, ALL SOUNDS OF THE PRE-DAWN HOUR SO MAGNIFIED. DARYLL DELGADO

I am not a travel writer. I write fiction and essays, and sometimes I teach them. I also travel quite a lot. But these activities do not always go hand in hand where I am concerned. I do not travel in order to write travel essays or to deliberately enhance descriptions of place and setting in my fiction. And I only teach when I am not traveling so much. I travel primarily to fulfill requirements for my work in an international non-profit organization that deals with human rights and labor rights issues. When you travel for that purpose, you tend to lose sight of the many creative benefits of travel for writers. But it does open your eyes to certain aspects of travel and place that do not always make their way to the travelogues you read in inflight magazines. For instance, through the so-called “social mapping” that I have to do when I visit a place, I find that countries which receive a lot of migrants and refugees, as well as tourists, have, through infrastructure and planning, very specific ways of arranging the migrant laborers’ lives, desires, sense of themselves, vis-àvis that of the foreign guest who is there purely for tourism. Through careful planning and PR, it is entirely possible to visit a country as an adventure or luxury tourist without ever encountering the population of a million manual laborers on whose backs the efficiency, and yes, beauty of the place, are built. In some exceptional countries though, the migrants seem to blend easily with local society. They are not a hidden population. You see them mixed in with the locals everywhere, in train stations, in restaurants, in malls and churches. I did used to write a bit about travel and places for just such inflight magazines, and at some point, for a lifestyle magazine for doctors. And I always

WorldMags.net


kept in mind that the travelogue is light reading, written primarily to entertain as it provides factual information about a place; to encourage readers to visit the place, if not vicariously travel to it through a selective description of its features. The travelogue as a feature story, as a magazine article—because this is how it was taught to us, to me at least, in Journalism school, more than a decade ago. But as I travel more and more for the work that I do now, and less and less for the work that I did then, it has become difficult to think of travel in such light, and entertaining, and encouraging terms. In fact, I have a deep suspicion that I secretly abhor traveling. I hate the odd hours I have to be up when I should be snuggling in bed with my husband. I hate packing practical clothes and not being able to wear all the impractical and fancy ones that I like but have to leave hanging in the closet. I hate the lengthy, lonely ride to the airport. I hate the long, slow lines at the immigrations. The enthusiasm of travelers, especially of those who do it in groups, get to me. Families traveling together make me bitter and sad. Traveling has turned me into the terribly surly person I hate traveling with. Perhaps it’s not traveling per se, but being in what should be a fascinating foreign place and seeing instead a side to them that’s hard to unsee. A side cropped out of the beautiful and compelling images in tourism ads that I do so love. Maybe it is being away from the home that you build over time through patterns and habits that you develop and faithfully pursue with loved ones, and now have to constantly break. Perhaps it’s the missing out on significant events such as friends’ books being launched, birthdays celebrated in obscure 80s dance clubs, the weekly drinks with old buddies, the face-to-face conversations over coffee. Not being there when loved ones are sick. Not being able to attend important rallies. Being always so scared of bad things happening to family while you’re away tending to other peoples’ problems. Maybe it is not even so much being away and not being home, but having to be a different person and building a provisional home, inhabiting a new self always, again and again. For instance, in the staff house in one of the countries that I have to frequent

because of my job, always, every time I enter the empty house, I also feel like I have to inhabit not just a new place, but also a new self. It is only after a few days, usually on the fourth, that I adjust again to the unchanged interiors, the sharp corners and faulty light switches, the peculiarities of faucets and doorknobs, and the no-longer-so-neutral smell of the staff house. A strange set-up, these staff houses. There is something very familiar and very sensible about them. They are also the most impersonal place you could ever live in. Sometimes, just when you think you have adjusted to the place, to the you who is a resident of this place, you wake up in the middle of the night, heart racing for no reason, all sounds of the pre-dawn hour so magnified. You hear the faintest footsteps, and don’t know whether to be glad or to be scared of the proximity of another human being who, like you, is awake at this same hour. Security guard or armed thief? You torture yourself with thoughts of being burgled, violated, killed. And then erase these thoughts just as quickly with those of a man, simply unable to sleep, meditating on life’s mysteries and pacing the streets. You want to cry for and cry out to this man. You know this man. This man is you. You tell yourself that you should just get up from bed and look out the window, to settle it all. But you cannot. You look around instead and everything is, again, unfamiliar and unmoved by your presence. This is the stranger in you overtaking the resident self you thought you have acquired. This stranger never quite goes away, and so does the loneliness this stranger brings. The loneliness is something you just have to keep at bay, somewhere at the base of your diaphragm, or wrapped around your colons. You do not entertain even the thought of dignifying this possibility, this condition or its variances, until it spreads all over and inhabits your entire body. When it becomes excruciating you consider taking on a religion in order to forget and to belong. Because Sundays are the worst. There are a million reasons to not leave, to not be anywhere but here. Lately I’ve had to convince and constantly remind myself again that, apart from the fact that the job requires it, there are real benefits and pleasures to travel. I have to remind myself that traveling is a privi-

WorldMags.net

lege, even if it is really a right. The right to travel is a universal human right, a right that regimes control in many different ways, a right that so many people are not able to enjoy. Those who can travel so freely, and voluntarily, or for a fee, tend to take this right for granted and get easily upset when even just a portion of that freedom, or desire, to travel is hampered. I am sometimes one of those people. The wonderful travelogues and travel shows often make us forget or ignore the fact that there are such things as “Conditions of Stay,” visa restrictions and requirements imposed by receiving states, depending on where you’re traveling to, and what or who you’re traveling as: tourist, guest worker, refugee, immigrant. Because of my work, I cannot help but see these conditions as also very much the unwritten cultural and social constraints that frame the lives of a totally different kind of traveler: people temporarily inhabiting new places, or living as aliens away from their places of origin, coexisting with citizens of another world, thriving along the margins and sometimes living invisibly as stateless, irregular, undocumented, or illegal persons. It is amazing how these travelers build—performatively, with their imagination, and for the sake of survival in strangeland—a sense of home and self, despite restrictive conditions of stay. I wish I could, or someone would, shed light on the travel narratives of (1) women in Asia who cross borders for economic survival, traveling independently of their families and living precarious lives, braving new worlds; (2) people who have historically been crossing borders without any notion of political and geographic boundaries; (3) people who are without states and national identities; (4) missionary

D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4 E S Q U I R E 105

NOTES & ESSAYS

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net nuns and other women volunteers who have also left their own homes to devote themselves to helping migrants lead dignified lives. Perhaps when these get written, I can then consider writing about the days off that I do get sometimes when I travel, the warm afternoons in Batu Ferringhi, the weekend in Phuket, the forays to local markets, museums, and historic streets, the discovery of a hundred year-old bookstore, the fellowship and camaraderie developed with provisional neighbors and fellow travelers, the kindness of strangers, the meditative train rides, the lounge privileges, the anticipation of a touchdown, and the return trip home.

NOTES & ESSAYS

DARYLL DELGADO Fictionist, essayist, and traveler

IV

OKÁ OF THE HOOD SWIFT, BULLET-BETWEEN-THEEYES KIND OF DEATH. THAT WAS THE LIFE HE KNEW. JOEL PABLO SALUD

Pasay City in the early 1970s was a shabby, wet-in-the-corners neighborhood rocked by insomnia. People cared less about sleeping than a Crispa-Toyota bout on television. Midnight rarely arrived without a flurry of screams to bother the dreamless sleeper. Here, Time tiptoed on thin galvanized iron roofs. Rest came only after untold cases of beer downed with song and a couple of sticks of grass. Narrow streets served as the only getaway in case police swooped in for the kill. There was also an odd abundance of children. Every so often you bumped into one, zigzagging from nowhere. They buzzed like locusts, stirred to a frenzy by the mere sight of candies or an odd thing one may be carrying in his hands. They ran off with everything. A sari-sari store owned by an old Chinese was a darling target for a heist. The storeowner had little in the way of security from these kids. Left with the flimsiest of choices, he slashed a quarter of his daily capital for a morning treat: candies 106 E S Q U I R E D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4

placed on the counter for free. This took the kids’ attention from the more expensive merchandise—bottles of soda, loaves of bread. Horse-drawn carriages were a common sight, along with lumps and spatters of horse dung. This stretch of prime estate used to be the rich man’s Forbes in the 1950s up until gangs came into the scene. Dominga Street was where I met a man reeking of tobacco and Tancho pomade. I was eight years old and he was in his mid- or late-thirties. I could starkly recall the way the off-season mabolo filled the air with their scents. But hardly were these strong enough to whisk the odor of Pall Malls and Salems out into the open sky. The man was of average height, topped with whorls of hair exhumed with greasy pomade. His fair Basqueauburn skin, huge rotund, razor-sharp eyes, and quiet lips stood out from all the rest. There was a raw unassuming hostility in his eyes. It rose like a burning wall between him and those scampering about the ragtag community. Proof was an embroidered silver-matte Colt .45 tucked in his waist. One could catch him standing at the corner sari-sari store in black. Like endless night on two legs. His buffed, sun-kissed black leather loafers, black turtleneck shirt, and black pants told me he knew his threads. By his side were burly individuals equally dressed in black or brown denim or corduroy jackets and low-waist jeans. All seven had firearms tucked in their hips. Two carried the dreaded Thompson automatic; the other a folding-stock M1 carbine hidden inside a cogon basket. He went by many names: Batáng. Batángueño. Ka Oká. Only his loved ones dared call him “Bokayo” and lived to see another sunrise. It didn’t take a genius to know they were Pasay City’s Robins of the Hood. He was everything a silver screen gangster ought to be: handsome, dressed-to-kill, and with nary the trembling caution of those who feign gangster-ism as a profession. No, he was smooth. A natural. Even his voice carried with it the cold comfort of one who’d ‘whack’ a rival gangster without the protracted pain of conscience. He was, as I had called him in later years, a man halfway between the Al Pacino as the young Michael Corleone and the husky Saddam Hussein. His gun—an engraved vintage Colt. 45

1911 model commemorative issue—was of all things his only trusted companion. “Burdado,” he called it. Oká never left home without it. He must’ve drawn his cue from a huge library of Western paperbacks he kept in his two-floor apartment. Swift, bullet-between-the-eyes kind of death. That was the life he knew. But it was a life full of surprises. For one so attached to a life of violence, he was also quite a bookworm. A lover of literature, of all things: Shakespeare, Friedrich Nietzsche, John Locke, Immanuel Kant, Jean-Paul Sartre, Arthur Schopenhauer, you name it. His collection of books ranged from the essays of Michel de Montaigne, H.L. Mencken to Aldous Huxley. These he read in the quiet of his study with little recollection of days in college when he was expelled from five universities. Violent behavior, they argued, despite several academic honors in his cap, several wins in intercollegiate debates, extemporaneous speaking, and declamation contests. This most feared hooligan during his day was anything but a cold-blooded murderer, at least in my eight-year-old’s estimation. I knew him more as the quintessential storyteller. He scarcely took himself as the subject of his stories. Nights spent with him on the steps of his home, half-lit by December moonlight, are some of the most prized memories I have of this man. While I was snug under a blanket, he shared tales of knights in blazing armor, sword in hand, fighting for everything that was larger than life. He spoke of kings and princesses, towers, domes, fortresses carved out of gargantuan rock, the voyages of Marco Polo, valor of the Vikings, and ideas of John Locke. September 1972: it was half-past eight in the evening. Puddles from the downpour of the night before kept me from playing marbles with the other children. At the corner of my eye I saw a movement behind the trees at the back of my aunt’s house. I approached to get a better look. In the dense mass of night Oká and his buddies hurled into a hole in the ground what seemed like rifles wrapped in plastic. Little did I know then I was too close not to be noticed. Oká saw me, but he feigned unawareness. He walked past the tree where I was as though I was never there. A day after, what once was a rowdy community hung in whispers. I saw mother sitting on her chair by the dinner table with my aunt and grandmother,

WorldMags.net


Elisea. She was in tears. Outside, much of the community were in their homes as if a more tragic calamity than a freak storm would soon arrive. I sat at the foot of the apartment stairs and waited for my playmates. They never came. Hours later I overheard people whispering about Martial Law. It was the eve of my ninth birthday. It was also the last time I saw Oká.

My mother and I, together with my grandparents, left Pasay that same year. We simply decided to leave the home we knew. In a posh subdivision in Parañaque, we kicked off a life that had all the trappings of wealth. My grandfather Jose was a Marcos crony. But in the quiet of our thoughts, mother and I clung to that rambunctious ragtag community until everything faded into sleep. It took us years to settle down in our new home. Growing up, I began to understand the man I looked up to all my life. Oká was, by nature, a good man despite his reputation. During the years he ruled in what he called Dewey Boulevard, it was the women who worked in bars that had the good fortune of running to him for help. An old, bent-out-of-shape tattooed hoodlum I had the privilege of meeting said Oká was loved mostly by the poor, the prostitutes, loan sharks, even rival gang bosses. While he was quick to lose his temper, he wasn’t the brute many thought him to be. One tale is worth remembering. As a young thug Oká’s people’s skills were nothing shy of numinous. Magical in a twisted kind of way. So magical, in fact, that the man who was out on a contract to kill him turned and begged to be his right hand. How did Oká do it? When

Oká found out that the assassin’s wife was sick with leukemia, he immediately dispatched a doctor—at gunpoint— to attend to the sick woman for free. Medicine, doctors’ fees and all. As a kind gesture that same man accompanied Oká to the airport, hours before Martial Law was declared, wrapped in dynamite. How he slid past Customs wrapped in explosives was anybody’s guess. I was later told that Oká had been part of the founding of the Kabataang Makabayan, a 1970s radical student organization. He was a wanted man by the Marcos government. The man’s last words before his patrón left for San Francisco, “Amá, call me anytime you want me to kill and die for you.” The years Oká spent in the U.S. drove him to accomplish some of the most unbelievable things. He helped minorities suffering from untold exploitation by Americans. He began a labor union composed of Filipinos, Mexicans, Chinese, Italians, Jews, and Columbians. This courted the ire of the Italian mob. His closest Filipino friend, whom he helped during their years at the Alaskan pipeline, settled for $10,000 for the head of Oká. Unaware that Oká knew of the hit, the traitor bought a revolver and ammo from a mutual friend. Little did he know that most of the bullets were actually duds. Oká had visited the friend’s home days before. “I’m sure he will buy a gun from you. Give him these,” he had said, handing over the fake bullets. At the birthday party of Oká’s brother, a commotion began when the traitor accused Oká of cheating in a card game. One thing led to another, and as the traitor pulled out his gun and fired, nothing happened. Oká grabbed the traitor’s hair and landed a punch strong enough to render him nearly unconscious. Oká grabbed the gun and quickly put in new bullets. Placing the barrel into the traitor’s mouth, Oká told him, “I was your first friend. Today we part as ememies.” Oká emptied the pistol into the mouth of the traitor. The force of the bullets was enough to sever the head. Oká spent the next 25 years in the Oklahoma State Penitentiary for the death of his traitor, whose head he literally surrendered to the police by hand. While in jail, Oká made efforts to inform U.S. senators about the plight of Filipina workers during the Iran-Iraq war. Day and night he worked to con-

WorldMags.net

vince the U.S. government to expand the federal penitentiary’s library while he personally defended himself in court for a multiple murder charge. One day in 1994, there was a knock on our door. Mother anxiously opened the door and I barely recognized the man, who now sported a moustache, unkempt long hair, and a rather huge frame. He was still the smart dresser, in a blue suit with feet snug in a pair of buffed leather loafers. Two of his companions looked as though they came straight out of a Warner Brothers FBI movie. I was right. They were U.S. federal agents who slipped Oká right past the noses of local immigration officials. He was under the protection of the United States government. My mother wept happily. They hugged. He approached me right after, shook my hand and said, “Son, let’s begin where we left off.” We spent the wee hours in a sleazy derelict bar along Quezon City and half-starved our wallets on beer, whiskey, and tips to exotic dancers. My father Oká was felled 13 years later by a series of strokes. It left his memory in total disarray, forever trapped in that place of forgetting. That heaven saw it fit to erase the memory of his crimes speaks volumes of the goodness he has shown others. The final 13 years had been the most captivating for my family. His last words prior to losing his memory: “Protect the freedom of your pen, help the poor, and never fear to enter hell even with just a spoonful of water.” JOEL PABLO SALUD Fictionist, Editor in Chief of The Philippines Graphic

V

KEEP CALM, AND DO IT TOMORROW WE COULD DO AS VICTOR HUGO DID, WHO WROTE NAKED AND HAD HIS CLOTHES HIDDEN FROM HIM TO DEFEAT THE LURE OF GOING OUT. FRANCEZCA C. KWE

I think of myself now as old. I’ll try to stay your hand in lobbing that rock D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4 E S Q U I R E 107

NOTES & ESSAYS

WorldMags.net


NOTES & ESSAYS

WorldMags.net

my way by adding that, every time I turn on the TV, I am impressed by how much time I have wasted—from the day (in 1989, I believe, watching the school bus take the road home without me in it) I figured out what time was, to this very moment, when I am performing an astounding feat of multitasking: watching Chariots of Fire for the umpteenth time on TV while typing, petting a cat, and stuffing a wedge of cake into my mouth. That’s a lot done in one day, but as the film compresses what is understood as years and years of rigorous athletic training into two minutes of Ben Cross and Ian Charleson (who play legendary Olympic sprinters) performing human dressage on beaches and moors, I am struck by the thought that if I had to apply that filmic treatment to the last decade of my life, it would probably feature two minutes of cats, cake, and couch. In college, I encountered a poem by an American poet that ended with the doleful line: “I have wasted my life.” That was around the same period my parents decided to have cable TV installed—since they reasoned that we were finally old enough to exercise self-discipline, and to realize that life is all about that great human burden: to live fully, without regrets. To make every moment count—but there’s a reason why you’ll find this paper-scroll motto hanging less in teenagers’ rooms (well, theirs goes YOLO) than in my senior parents’ (there, it is suspended self-assuredly next to “Footprints in the Sand”). I had already wanted to be a writer in college, but my burning passion had to race next to the allure of cable TV, then the curious novelty known as the Internet, then the wonderfully useless Friendster… etc., and you can guess which reached the finish line of my Top Priorities. Just now, to prevent myself from finishing this essay, I Googled “procrastination and writers,” and was 108 E S Q U I R E D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4

heartened by what I found. Apparently, the writer—and her dark twin, the academic—is prone to putting things off. I can confirm this from experience, living in one half of a familial duplex that groans daily with procrastination, housing as it does two pairs of writers who teach or once taught, any one of which may be losing the battle of filling up the blank page at any given moment. Writers might procrastinate because they need to fix themselves a sandwich, attend to online Christmas shopping, or, as in the creative processes of many writers and academics I know, have beer(s)—something that is particularly writerly, says Donald Barthelme. “When you’ve been staring at this Billy-bydamn keyboard all your life, decade after decade, you get a little thirsty.” In my case, staring at this golly-by-grime keyboard for an hour, but hey, my idol says I’m not so reprehensible after all. Not saying that procrastination is the province of the writer, solely. Surely cops, doctors, and airport employees also procrastinate. Certainly, some NAIA personnel ruffled feathers by attending to their bejeweled scores right in front of a long line of travelers in a recent “exposé.” Plumbers might not procrastinate as much as writers do, because, who can sleep soundly knowing that the evidence is still floating in the toilet, refusing to disappear from sight? In The New Yorker, James Suroweicki (“Later”) declares that procrastination is the “quintessential modern problem.” He means: consider Facebook. Procrastination, he says, is a human irony. “It’s a powerful example of what the Greeks called akrasia—doing something against one’s own better judgment… willingly deferring something even though you expect the delay to make you worse off.” It involves consciously making the self-thwarting decision to “party now, pay later,”—much the same mode as in a coke addiction. In fact, procrastination is, admonishes my handy little Teach Yourself: Stop Procrastinating and Get Things Done handbook, an addiction. Using a step-by-step regimen adapted from rehab strategies, it counsels me to acknowledge my queasiness at an impending deadline and investigate its source. (Could it be stemming from a dimly remembered incident from childhood, or from fear of ridicule and rejection by society?) The book asks you to check off those twinges of feeling that signal that your procrastination

is ripening, producing symptoms like a post-incubation virus. (Problem, addiction, disease, modern times—you get the picture. Really, it’s not all our fault.) The book is an interesting one, with an almost biblical thickness. It contains illuminating ways to manage a condition that can truly debilitate you, or extinguish your capacity to be a productive—no, potentially legendary—human being. But what they are, I can’t tell you, because after putting off finishing the book for so long, I can no longer find it. It’s now lost in the rubble of what-could-have-beens. How do we wrestle the demon of procrastination to the ground? We could do as Victor Hugo did, who wrote naked and had his clothes hidden from him to defeat the lure of going out. Despite the literature of procrastination asserting that the activity is not truly an enjoyable one (to wit, you’re really not savoring that eat-allyou-can binge as you ought to because a nagging voice in your head reminds you that exercise is four years overdue), I think we do derive pleasure from it. Because, why is it, like most chocolate products, so easy to succumb to, so tempting? I know that my husband gets some pleasure from my procrastination, since, to stave off the feeling of doom that inevitable grading brings, I’m wont to drag him upstairs for a spot of sex. Or at the very least, treat him to fried chicken and fries at midnight just as I’ve sat down at my desk to tackle the seemingly insurmountable pile of student papers. With a kind of maniacal glee worthy of a scene in The Shining, I turn to him and cackle, “Let’s get some fries!” Other delicious distractions I indulge in are doing the laundry (which, done with pure intentions, is an accomplishment in itself ), bathing innocent cats—and like you, exploring the wasteland of Wikipedia. I think my pleasure comes from being able, for a moment, to put up my feet and savor my surroundings, feel the strings of my soul vibrate from watching butterflies flutter around my plants, the light fade into dusk—just like that persona in the James Wright poem—albeit while my phone screams with calls from my editor, and my future, dying self is weeping at this moment of her life flashback. Because, you know, YOLO. FRANCEZCA C. KWE Fictionist, educator, and editor

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

WorldMags.net


105E

110E

115E

120E

WorldMags.net

THE QUIET BEFORE THE STORM HE GAVE FAIR WARNING OF YOLANDA’S RAGE, BUT DID ANYBODY LISTEN? MAHAR LAGMAY, OUR NATION’S FORECASTER OF DISASTER, ACCOUNTS FOR THE LAST DAYS BEFORE LANDFALL.

BY AUDREY N. CARPIO 110 E S Q U I R E D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4

PHOTOGRAPHS BY EDRIC CHEN

WorldMags.net

125E


130E

135E

140E

145E

150E

WorldMags.net 20N

15N

10N

5N

0N

5S

WorldMags.net

D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4 E S Q U I R E 111 10S


WorldMags.net ing a bit more anxious, he called out to Anne Curtis, Isabelle Daza, Solenn Heussaff, Megan Young, and Vice Ganda, celebrities who collectively have more followers than the population of Finland: "Kailangan ko kayo. Tulong sa pag-retweet ng tunkgol sa #YolandaPH." This was barely heeded. He continued in this vein, pushing his team to churn out information that was exacting and accurate before releasing it into the world. He tweeted not with the aim of reaching individual fishing villagers in Leyte who were doubtfully on Twitter, but to attract the attention of the media, from AM radio stations to the major TV networks. PAGASA remains the official weather warner; Project NOAH, as a research and development arm, provides supplementary information that the scientist also tries to widely disseminate on his own. Still, Dr. Lagmay, the self-fulfilling prophet who tried to save the living creatures, felt like he was alone in his ship. On Nov. 7, things started moving. An updated list of 68 areas with storm surge and tide height predictions, generated from a simulator, was posted on the NOAH website. Several news agencies and blogs picked it up; indeed it was widely circulated on the net. That day, Dr, Lagmay also gave a presentation at the DOST, showing the same surge simulation he posted online. Secretary Mario Montejo grabbed him as he was walked out and said, "The President needs to see this." Early that night, President Aquino gave a televised speech warning of the “grave danger” specific areas would face with the onslaught of fivemeter waves.

R. MAHAR LAGMAY could not get any sleep. It was a few nights before Day Zero, and he was monitoring the super typhoon and its perfectly formed, 30-kilometer-wide eye swirling its way across the Pacific at 300+ kilometer an hour. Yolanda was an unprecedented storm; there would be unprecedented damage. The usual battening down of the hatches would not suffice this time, not with wind gusts as powerful as a jet engine. As the captain of Project NOAH (Nationwide Operational Assessments of Hazards), it was Dr. Lagmay’s duty to sound the alarm. An active social media user who, under the name @nababaha, posts hourly rainfall data, necessary storm alerts, and the odd joke, he turned to the Twittizens. On Wednesday, Nov. 6, 9:30 p.m. he tweeted to some 25,000 followers: “Details of the storm surge levels for #YolandaPH - visit noah.dost.gov.ph and go to weather stations and select Yolanda storm tide levels." This was retweeted 27 times. A following post, 20 minutes later, was more specific: "Predicted storm surge height for coastal areas of Ormoc City on 8 November 2013" with an attached graph of a wave hitting 5.028 meters. This got 87 retweets. Half an hour later, grow-

112 E S Q U I R E D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4

DR. LAGMAY IS DEEPLY BURDENED by the criticism that has been flung at his office. When we meet him on Day 6, the normally jovial disaster scientist had the eroded look of being the only man who knew what was coming. Though the world was also keeping track of the super typhoon and its evil eye, the satellite image people saw was still a distant cloud projection beamed to us from outer space, a gathering of forces happening somewhere else. Then, a bit before schedule on Friday, Nov. 8, Yolanda made landfall, barreling through coastal towns in the Visayas, whipping down everything in its path. In the disastrous wake of the typhoon, amid the bickering, the bashing, and the too-easy blame game, one of the questions being tossed around is: was there adequate warning? From endless news coverage and first-hand experience, it’s been established that relief was slow to come, and that whatever preparations the government had in place were no match for the wrath of the storm. Now that climate change has ushered in this “new reality” of Category 5 typhoons, the way forward requires weather-proofing Filipinos through intense preparedness, like how the Japanese are trained for earthquakes from the day they are born. The excuse "we don't know what a storm surge is" cannot ever again be used. It could be argued that it is not an excuse now, but that would be pouring salt over the thousands of wounded. The mayor of Tacloban and his wife, a city councilor, chose to stay in their seaside resort, belying a sense of urgency that was translated to his constituents. (The resort was pounded by the five-meter wave, and footage of its ruins was accompa-

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net nied by a dramatic recounting of the Romualdezes survival on CNN). Many residents had been preemptively evacuated—but, as it turns out, not enough. Perhaps “grave danger,” fivemeter waves,” and “storm surge” just didn’t register in many people’s minds. There’s a lot of quibbling going on about which words are considered jargon and which ones would really cleave to the hearts and minds of the people. All these armchair analyses are after-the-fact, pre-validation. Dr. Lagmay refuses to point any fingers back and will wait for the charged emotions to dissipate. “Right now people are angry,” he acknowledges, on the eleventh day after the event. “The tendency for people during an accident or disaster is to find blame. If you see a car accident, the first reaction would be to find out who’s at fault, who the driver was, and get revenge. The situation right now is like a largescale accident. There are many deaths, and people need to blame someone.” He had held off his necessary data-gathering trip to Tacloban, possibly fearing for his safety in the immediate aftermath. Dr. Lagmay is a popular expert who is often called on talk shows when it comes to weather and other catastrophes, but he doesn’t recall being interviewed this time ahead of Yolanda, not even with this new storm surge character coming into play. Those who work for Dr. Lagmay speculate that the media, and hence the public, were still hung up over the Napoles scandal to pay attention to the details. He likens the distraction to the other storm surge incident, the one caused by Typhoon Pedring in 2011. Three DPWH officials were Photoshopped badly over a picture of the pile of rubble that a surging Manila Bay wrought. Achieving meme status, the thing went viral and people outright ignored the significance of the pile of rubble that was the Baywalk. HOULD HE HAVE called it by any other name? Dr. Lagmay was virtually waving red flags all over the Internet, short of causing widespread panic by using the T word. He is, after all a scientist, and must maintain dignity and credibility. That was why he could not say that it was a tsunami, or that it was even like a tsunami. "It's not going to be the last time we experience this. We're going to have storm surges again," he explains, not for the first time, and definitely not the last. “We can’t confuse the terms, because the mechanism for evacuation could be different. We need the people to know what they are, and that kind of awareness is developed long before." In the event of a tsunami, which is caused by an earthquake, people would have around 15 panic-stricken minutes to haul ass, say if it happened in La Union. A storm surge, on the other hand, is caused by the strong winds and low pressure of a tropical cyclone, a totally different process. With Yolanda, we had hours, even days of warning, adequate time to relocate to safety—but only if the thought and the process have already been embedded in our psyche. The stunning example of Tulang Diyot in the Camotes Island is a perfect test case of

how years of drilling and disaster education resulted in no lives lost despite the almost total destruction of their homes. “It could have been much worse,” Dr. Lagmay concedes, citing examples of similar Lagmay at the National catastrophic climate activity Institute of Geological Sciences in U.P. “Had we that swept hundreds of thoucalled [Yolanda] a tsunami sands away. The unnamed super on Nov. 6, people could have already died on Nov. 6.” typhoons of 1897 and 1912, which followed almost exactly the same trail, killed a greater portion of Leyte and Samar’s population back then. Put into perspective, with the communication lines down, the roads blocked, and the first responders incapacitated or killed—it could have been way worse. “My stand is that it shouldn’t be called something else. Had we called it a tsunami on Nov. 6, people could have already died on Nov. 6.” He has other experts on his side. Dr. Kelvin Rodolfo, a geologist and environmental scientist from the University of Illinois, went on ABS-CBN and supported the weather authorities’ actions. It’s obvious to the scientists, but those “on the ground” are clamoring for more layman terms, more pop sci, more in-thevernacular. Alas, the disconnect must be addressed by other stakeholders. The responsibility cannot rest completely on the shoulders of those discovering the science. “It’s a community effort, and everybody needs to plan ahead,” Dr. Lagmay says. He’s devastated by the tragedy, but the rational, factual side of him seems to temper his emotions, lest he say something that can be construed as insensitive or controversial. He states plainly that the LGUs are mandated to know the lay of their land and all its hazards, and how to take action and educate the people: “It’s actually written in the Disaster Law.” Yolanda hit before Team NOAH made significant headway with the Storm Surge Project they were working on. They had barely gotten approval and funding for the program, which will map the geo-hazards of the entire country’s coastlines and create models that will simulate how far inland the water form a surge will go and where, when Yolanda put all their resources to the test. By the end of next year, we should have a complete visual storm surge warning system that will be as quotidian as the Doppler images on our weather apps, or as familiar as the terms daluyong or humbak were to our ancestors. “When things settle, there will be a good discussion on why it was not called a tsunami, what words could have been used to make communication better,” Dr. Lagmay says. With each passing day, his resolve is further strengthened, and doubts fade away. He does not bring up the idea of handing in a courtesy resignation anymore, at least not the last time we spoke to him. He is a scientist, after all, and he stands by the facts. “It was a hard lesson learned, and we don’t want to repeat the same mistake.” And because of this, he now gets ready for his data-gathering trip to Tacloban, for which he and his team are drafting a masterplan to rebuild the city, smartly. “Let’s wait,” Dr. Lagmay says. “Let’s help out first. People in Tacloban need it.”

THOSE WHO WORK FOR DR. LAGMAY SPECULATE THAT THE MEDIA, AND HENCE THE PUBLIC, WERE STILL HUNG UP OVER THE NAPOLES SCANDAL TO PAY ATTENTION TO THE DETAILS.

WorldMags.net

D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4 E S Q U I R E 113


WorldMags.net

LAND OF THE MOURNING

114 E S Q U I R E D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.netF

IVE DAYS AFTER THE

V ISAYAS WAS STRUCK BY

THE STRONGEST TYPHOON EVER RECORDED , E SQUIRE WRITER - AT - LARGE

PATRICIA EVANGELISTA FLEW TO T ACLOBAN C ITY , LEYTE, TO REPORT ON THE AFTERMATH . S HE WAS THERE FOR 18 DAYS .

PHOTOGRAPHS BY CARLO GABUCO AND RICK ROCAMORA

WorldMags.net

D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4 E S Q U I R E 115


WorldMags.net

A B O A T I S S T A L L E D O N T H E R O A D I N F R O N T O F T H E C I T Y H A L L . Thirty feet of flagpole lies bent across the lawn. Down the street, out past the field of bagged and stacked corpses, a plastic panda h e a d f l oa t s i n the wa ter. A BOAT IS STALLED on the road in front of the city hall. Thirty This is Tacloban. On the day after Haiyan, there were bodies in backyards leaning on refrigerators, inside houses jammed behind closets, in bathrooms and bedrooms and on the edges of the airport road wrapped in Rainbow Brite bed sheets. This is the city where generals pick up dead soldiers to clear the tarmac and diesel is traded for cars. There is no room for imagination or exaggeration here. All the narrative rules are broken. Every comforting truth is suspended. This is where the four horsemen of the apocalypse ride daily down the San Jose Highway and turn, galloping, into the muck of what is left of Village 88. This is where it is normal to be asked for directions to the nearest pile of cadav-

116 E S Q U I R E D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net An aerial view of Tacloban City taken November 22, 14 days after super typhoon Haiyan struck.

was that tallness and that strength that nearly killed him, made him an anchor for the drowning of Village 88. They clung to him, around his neck, clutching at his hair, gripping his shoulders, clawing up his back, children, teenagers, a mother carrying a daughter, all clinging to Ramil while birds and turtles and snakes slithered up his chest. He shoved them all away, snakes, birds, mothers, children, abandoned them all in the water before he swam to save his wife and daughter. Ramil found his wife, just as she was going under. He snatched at her hair, thrust her under his arm, wrapped himself around her until she was safe from the sheets of tin and rolling logs. He caught a pair of trailing coconut leaves and pulled, until both of them were safe above the water. When the water receded, Ramil found his daughter in the wild grass, 11-year-old arms wrapped around a rock. The other children are gone as well, every child who clung to Ramil in the water. Their parents don’t blame him. Most of them are dead.

ON THURSDAY AFTERNOON, November 7th, the day before the storm, Interior Secretary Manuel “Mar” Roxas and Defense Secretary Voltaire Gazmin flew into Tacloban City to supervise the government response. On Friday afternoon, after Haiyan cut all communications, National Disaster Risk Reduction and Management Council executive director Eduardo Del Rosario admitted they had lost contact with the cabinet secretaries. Neither Roxas nor Gazmin had brought satellite phones or military radios. Roxas made contact on Friday evening, after Del Rosario sent a satellite phone.

ers by a boy looking for his brother. Some place else, there may be some sort of ironic value to the image of a corpse in a body bag lying under a waiting shed painted with an “I love Tacloban” sign. Here, a body under a shed is a body under a shed, made special only by virtue of the fact that it lies under a shed, unlike the seventy other bodies rotting in similar bags along the same road in a city where the sound of rain sends children screaming for mothers who do not come.

HIS NAME IS RAMIL NAVARRO. He is a handsome man, just past 40, skin darkened by the sun, dark curling hair a mop over his head, eyes an odd light hazel. He wears rubber boots and a tattered pair of green shorts, the pair he has worn every day for 17 days. An old gang tattoo tracks over his right arm, a fresh scar runs over his left. Ramil built a shack along the San Jose Highway after the storm, tall, strong Ramil, well over six feet, the butcher from Vitas, tough guy from the toughest part of tough Manila. It

HIS NAME IS EDGAR LAPID, a fisherman from the coast of Calupian. Two days before Haiyan, he brought his wife Josephine and his four children to the Fisherman’s Village Elementary School. He was there again the day before the storm, carrying a bowl of cooked rice. Ma, he said, you should eat. He left them in the afternoon and headed home to guard the house. He thought his family would be safe. In the first floor classroom where Josephine and her four children cowered behind wooden tables, the surge pushed against the green door. Young men broke the glass jalousies, Edgar’s 14-year-old son Junior caught his mother and pushed her to the surface, up to the second floor roof. When the water disappeared, it left bodies plastered against the walls of classrooms whose windows were crosshatched with metal frames. A MESSAGE IS PAINTED in two-foot tall letters across the school roof. Tulong, maraming patay dito. Help, there are dead bodies inside. At least 20 died inside the Fisherman’s Village Elementary

D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4 E S Q U I R E 117

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net Clockwise from top left: Body bags waiting for processing at the Basper Public Cemetery (Photograph by Patricia Evangelista); William Cabuquing in Timex, Fisherman’s Village; one of many corpses along the coastline of Barangay 83.

School. Josephine and all four of her children survived. It was later when she discovered her husband did not.

IN A NOVEMBER 11 INTERVIEW with CNN’s Andrew Stevens, the Interior Secretary was asked if the situation was under control. Yes, said Roxas. “I would say that it is.” THE WOMEN LEAVE for the airport at six in the morning. There are seven of them, trailing toddlers, carrying bags and babies. They hope to get out of the city, win their way into one of the government C130s flying refugees to Cebu. Look straight ahead, they tell the children. They walk past bodies lining the sidewalks, past crumpled government cars wedged into fence posts, past a twisted chain link fence and the long lines of the waiting. They have survived five days in Tacloban City. It was the two youngest women who kept the family alive. They left home at one in the morning of the second day, walked three hours following a crowd all the way to a warehouse with a shattered roof. They climbed the broken wall, up to the broken roof, and jumped down to fight it out with a hundred other thieves. Sardines, water, whatever they could carry. It was not the stealing that was dangerous. It was protecting what they had stolen. They were brave, says their mother. We were hungry, say the girls. HIS NAME IS DODONG CELIS. Thirty years ago, he fell in love with an accounting clerk more than 15 years his senior. He courted her for two years, they were married, had a son, and lived in Tacloban City in Village 31, where Dodong drove a tricycle and was elected the village chief. At midnight before the storm, Dodong came home after evacuating his village. He told his wife to get ready. She said there was no need. The wind was calm. The air was warm. It was Dodong’s birthday, and she did not want to leave. They lay down together, husband and wife. In the morning, the first wave came. They ran, 20 villagers

THEY

racing down the street, straight into another stronger house. They closed the door, but the water still swelled. Up, Dodong howled, up, up, up the stairs. The next wave came. The house broke off its moorings. The water flooded the second floor. Dodong jumped up on a bed and rammed a length of pipe into the ceiling. The ceiling broke. He rammed the pipe against the roof. When the roof broke he tossed all 19 people up, through the ceiling, through the roof, until all 20 of them were crouched on a bucking tin raft. Hold on, he told everyone. He saw a balcony on the third floor of a standing building. He pushed his wife toward his nephew. Hold her, he said. He jumped. He fell. It was dark in the water. There were planks and walls and posts tumbling over his head. He pushed his palms together and forced his way up, breaking through the debris. He found his wife dazed, reached up, held her face and screamed. Wake up, he said. Wake up. Snap out of it. We will live. He jumped again, caught the balcony railing, swung himself up. He turned and called for his wife. She was gone. In minutes, 19 people were standing on the balcony, watching the water recede, quickly as it came.

DODONG FOUND HIS WIFE a meter and a half below him, under a tangle of debris. He carried her to the city engineer’s office, where other bodies had been left. Laid her on a sheet of wood and stayed

CLUNG TO HIM, AROUND HIS NECK, CLUTCHING AT HIS HAIR, GRIPPING

H I S S H O U L D E R S , C L AW I N G U P H I S B A C K , C H I L D R E N ,

t e e n a g e r s , a m o t h e r c a rryin g a d au g h t e r, a l l c l i ng i ng to R amil w hile b ird s and tu rtles and snakes s l i t h e re d u p h i s c h e s t . He s h ove d t h e m a l l awa y, s n a ke s, b i rd s, m o t h e r s, children, abandoned them all in the water before he swam to save his wife and d au gh t e r.

118 E S Q U I R E D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

Office 8, said in an interview that there were 10,000 people feared dead. Two days later, he was relieved from his duties “due to stress.” “Ten thousand I think is too much,” said Philippine President Benigno S. Aquino III, during an interview four days after the typhoon. “And perhaps that was brought about by being at the center of destruction. There’s emotional trauma involved with that particular estimate.” There are only 2,000 dead, said the President. Maybe 2,500.

with her, all day for his birthday, all the way until the next day, slept beside her in a room filled with corpses until he buried her in an open grave he had found. He filled it with his own hands. He visits her every day. Sorry, he tells her. Sorry, sorry, sorry, love.

ON SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 10, Chief Superintendent Elmer Soria, Regional Director of the Eastern Visayas Police Regional

HER NAME IS NIEVES NERJA. On the day after the storm, she left home to see her son Oscar. Her daughter walked with her. Her husband Cirilo could not. He wept instead. Nieves found Oscar along the highway of Village 99, just one body among dozens. Someone had wrapped Oscar in a sheet. Nieves brought another from home, draped him again in damp white. They cried, mother and daughter. They asked the police to cover Oscar’s body with a sheet of tin. They prayed over him, talked to him, asked a friend to stay with the body, to make sure Oscar would be left on the road when the government truck came by to pick up the rest. Then they left, looking for men to carry Oscar and dig his grave and lay him down in the ground. They were willing to pay any price, with what little they had, but there was no one who was willing. Everyone is fighting to survive, says Nieves. Everyone has problems. Burying Oscar is hers.

D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4 E S Q U I R E 119

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

XXX EESSQQUUI IRREE DDEECC- -J JAANN 22001 144 120

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

Ramil Navarro, a butcher from Vitas, in the shack that he built in Barangay 88, San Jose Highway

WorldMags.net

DD EE CC - J-A JA N N2 2 00 1 41 4E E SS QQ UU I RI R E EXXX 121


WorldMags.net

Every day for 12 days, Nieves walks to see Oscar. She walks on cold days. She walks on rainy days. She walks on days when the heat broiled the corpses and choked the backhoe drivers in spite of their masks. She walks four hours each way, from the little house along Imelda Avenue to the highway in Village 99. She comes to keep him company, to talk to him, to pray for him, to promise that his mother will not leave him. Oscar was a good boy, says his mother, a kind boy who sent money home and put his sister’s children through school. The walk is shorter on the last day, the twelfth day. A motorcycle takes Nieves up to Basper, drops her off at the bottom of the road. She walks, red umbrella a cane, purple knitted cap pulled over her head, bags slung over bony shoulders. She pays no attention to the fire trucks, to the government tents, to the tripods manned by foreign correspondents. She keeps her head down, her eyes on the ground, on the long line of white body bags stretching down the cemetery road. She wants him buried separately, but she is told it can’t be done. She has asked the policemen, the firemen, the women in vests emblazoned with the seal of the Department of Health. They tell her there are too many bodies. Two trenches have been dug, one for the hundreds of unidentified, the other for men like Oscar Nerja. Oscar’s little sister has written his name on a sheet of paper. She asks the police to slip it inside the body bag. Other bags have been labeled in marking pens, the lumps inside ranging from the very large to the pitifully small. Nieves is waiting for the experts with their identification kits to work their way to Oscar. They will tell her when they

SHE

find his name. She will wait until the men in gloves carry him up the green swath of grass to the trench behind the cemetery wall. She will mark where they lay him with a candle and a prayer, so she will know where her Oscar rests, so Oscar will know his mother is here.

ON THE FIFTH DAY after the storm the Red Cross pegged the tentative missing at 20,000 people. THE CORPSE TRUCK trundles down the road, the men in masks and gloves coming out of side streets in pairs carrying white body bags. Sometimes the bags are laid out on the road, unzipped, checked, marked with felt pens. The journalists follow the trucks, foreigners with tripods and fluffy boom mics. Sometimes it is old women who follow, hanging on from the backs of motorbikes. Their sons are inside, they say. They want to know where to pray. HIS NAME IS EDWARDO ABOGANDA, father of one. When he dropped from the roof at eight in the morning of November 8,

From left to right: the hand of a woman caught in the branches of a mangrove in Barangay 88, Timex Compound; a boy washes his face among the rubble last December 14; Edwardo Aboganda in San Jose Highway, Barangay 88.

WA N T E D H I M B U R I E D S E PA R AT E LY , B U T S H E WA S T O L D I T C O U L D N ’ T B E

DONE.

SHE

HAS ASKED THE POLICEMEN, THE FIREMEN, THE WOMEN IN VESTS

D E PA RT M E N T O F H E A LT H . T h e y t e l l h e r there are too many bodies. Two trenches have been dug, one for the hundreds of u n i d e nt i f i e d bo d i e s, t he other for men like Os c ar Nerja.

EMBLAZONED WITH THE SEAL OF THE

122 E S Q U I R E D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

it did not matter that the water had ripped off every shred of clothing he wore. He walked down the coast naked, his only daughter dead in his arms. He washed her, cleaned her, slipped her inside a sopping wet dress he had found crumpled on a branch, then laid her down under a tree and built a roof of tin over her body. The roof was important. He was afraid she would be cold in the rain.

ON NOVEMBER 13, THE SIXTH DAY AFTER THE STORM, Interior Secretary Roxas is told in an interview that there are decomposing corpses still on the streets. They are not the same bodies, he says. “Every day, we pick up the bodies. I myself led a pickup, a cadaver recovery team yesterday and the day before.” He says the bodies may look like they are the same, “because they are in the same-looking body bags.” “We pick up along the main road, all of the bodies in the interior are then brought out.” ON THE FIFTEENTH DAY after the storm, a crew from the Department of Public Works and Highways reports for duty. Their shirts are bright blue, their helmets orange. They are all survivors, paid P260 a day to clear the debris layering over San Jose. In the language of Tacloban after Haiyan, a bundle left over a sheet of tin roofing means the bundle contains what is left of a person. The tin is used as a tray, an attempt by whoever chanced upon the body to keep the crumbling pieces together. To the side of the road are three fresh body bags. Fresh, because the bodies were found early the same day, before they were packed, zipped, tagged and bundled neatly for the passing corpse trucks. A large backpack sits to the left of the bodies, a cheap Jansport imitation flecked in bright purple set on a sheet of tin. The backpack slouches, only half full. Inside the bag rots the corpse of a baby. The corpses are still there later in the day, with one dif-

ference. A baby doll has been left to sit beside the backpack, plump plastic body glowing in the sun. The doll is smiling.

ON THE 16TH DAY after the storm, a man’s body bobs in the water, everything but his clothes bleached a powdery white. Feather strings of skin trail in his wake, small clumps of fish gnaw away at the stumps of his arms. This is Paradise, Village 83, a short walk from the Tacloban Leyte Ice Plant. Outside, another corpse lies sprawled among pink bottles of baby powder, the swollen body bursting the seams of a blue baseball jersey. The children of Village 83 point to the center of the bay, right where the sunlight shoots sharp off the steel edges of half-sunken container trucks. The bodies float in clumps, one on top of the other, limbs caught by wooden markers. The children say there are more men locked inside the cabs of their own trucks, sitting in the driver’s seats, fisted hands on steering wheels, eyes blind to the bodies floating outside. ON THE NINETEENTH DAY after the storm, Roxas announces the reinstatement of Chief Superintendent Elmer Soria. The official death toll is 5,500. WHEN THE NEW VILLAGE CHIEFS OF TACLOBAN CITY were elected on October 28, 2013, they did not know they would take office in a broken city. Two incumbent village chiefs died on November 8, along with ten councilors. All of the newly elected have survived, and are sworn into their new positions at the Tacloban City Astrodome almost two weeks after the storm, on the same ground where at least 300 were killed. Mayor Albert Romualdez speaks to his new officials. He tells them to stand fast. He tells them the world is watching. He tells them this is a test of leadership, that he himself was tested, that everyone should band together. “When someone goes to me in the city, they say, ‘Mayor, we lost our house.’ I say I lost two houses. Someone tells me, ‘Mayor, I lost my car,” I ask them, ‘How many?’ They say,

D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4 E S Q U I R E 123

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

124 E S Q U I R E D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

A body inside a Red Cross bag is left under a waiting shed along Airport Road, Tacloban City. Photograph by Rick Rocamora /UNHCR

WorldMags.net

D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4 E S Q U I R E 125


A

WorldMags.net

BUNDLE LEFT OVER A SHEET OF TIN ROOF-

I NG M E A N S T H E B U N D L E C O N TA I N S W H AT I S LEFT OF A PERSON.

The tin is used as a t ra y, a n a t t e m p t by w h o ev e r c h a n c e d upon t h e b o d y to ke e p th e c ru mb ling pi ec es t oge th e r. ‘Mayor, one.’ I lost seven. I lost seven cars. Are we going to have a contest about this?” In the Astrodome, one of the few standing structures of Tacloban City, 200 voices rise, to echo off the walls and float past the shattered dome, returning with a chorus of a thousand more. Land of the morning, child of the sun returning, with fervor burning, thee do our souls adore. Land of the morning, of love and glory, to live is heaven in thy embrace. It is our joy in the face of tyranny, to die because of thee. ON THE TWENTIETH DAY after the storm, seven bodies are found inside a house along the curve of the San Jose Highway.

ON THE TWENTY-SECOND DAY after the storm, the village chiefs of Villages 88, 89 and 90 report at least a hundred bodies scattered along their coastlines. ON THE TWENTY-THIRD DAY after the storm, Navy men stationed along the city seaport ask for the retrieval of headless cadavers caught in recesses beneath the pier. ON THE TWENTY-FIFTH DAY after the storm, a Chinese humanitarian team finds 120 bodies floating under the San Juanico Bridge. ON THE TWENTY-SIXTH DAY after the storm, William Cabuquing stands alone outside his shanty in Fisherman’s Village. There is a new body that has floated into the debris in the shore across his house. William knows he is one of the lucky ones. His wife is missing, but his children are alive and far away. For 14 days after Haiyan, the length of time it took the government to send body bags to Timex Street, William has lived with the bodies of his neighbors. Many remain in the debris around his home. The corpse of a woman still hangs impaled in a tangle of branches, legs spread, her arms akimbo, thigh and ankle pierced by twigs, naked torso a yellow bag of little more than bones. What is left has turned the color of wood. William is building a house. A small house, the height of a man’s waist, driftwood and tin and rusty nails cobbled together to face the sea. He will not leave. He is waiting for his Cecilia.

Many of the dispatches in this report were written originally for multimedia news agency Rappler.com. The editors would like to express our gratitude for allowing the use of the material.

126 E S Q U I R E D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4 E S Q U I R E 127

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

128 E S Q U I R E D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

Container vans and other debris swept by the surge of water in Barangay 88 along the San Jose Highway. Photographed last November 13.

WorldMags.net

D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4 E S Q U I R E 129


WorldMags.net

BY SARGE LACUESTA PHOTOGRAPH BY CARLO GABUCO

front page article in the November 30, 1912 issue of A the Washington Herald, digitally revived and widely distributed 101 years later, reports the death toll of 15,000 from a typhoon that hit the province of Leyte four days earlier. The number becomes even more startling when the same article places the collective population of both provinces at 32,000. But at the same time, the figures are obviously very rough estimates, rounded up to the nearest thousand, and employed primarily to indicate the scale of the tragedy—after the fact. This is not an article about death tolls. In fact, as we write this, there is no definite number yet on how many have perished in the wake of this typhoon, more than 100 years later. We invite you to imagine the writer of that 1912 piece, attempting to get a grip on the scale of that tragedy. How did he arrive at such information, and how long after the hurricane had struck? How many reports did he read, and which ones did he trust the most? Did he read actual accounts of the storm? What did he feel when he wrote it, thousands of miles away, for the audience of thousands that he wrote for? We also invite you to imagine the reader. The article, concise and compactly laid out below the fold, as though the editors were careful to make room for more pressing news of the day (the main headline: “Troops of Five European Nations Called To Colors”), has no accompanying photos or illustrations. The reader is left to imagine the devastation on his own. Did he have any idea what the Philippines looked like? Did he

130 E S Q U I R E D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4

know what a Filipino looked like? For millions of Filipinos, the 1991 Gulf War sparked the beginning of 24-hour broadcast news, with local networks distributing live CNN broadcasts around the clock. Each news cycle delivered fresh loops of images and footage directly from the warzones, giving its thrilled viewers a videogame feel of the situation. It came down to the POV from the cockpits and the missile warheads themselves, beamed directly to our TV screens, giving us a level of definition that allowed us to see the actual faces of the people behind the targets of the US airstrikes, milliseconds before the targets were obliterated. This is the same America that dispatched an entire aircraft supercarrier, loaded with tons of rescue and recovery equipment, scores of aircraft and more than 6,000 crewmembers, to the shores of a devastated Leyte in the wake of Typhoon Yolanda. There are literally thousands of photos and reports on the web and in traditional media that continue to show us the extent of the damage, across a terrifying range of perspectives, from aerial shots of ravaged towns to images of individual Filipinos who have been personally affected by the tragedy. We presume that many of the tens of thousands of people across the world who planed in or pitched in to help us overcome the aftermath of the typhoon were compelled by these

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

A fraction of the Yolanda aftermath in Real Street, Barangay 76, Fatima, Tacloban. The photo was taken early morning, 17 days after the storm.

images and stories. Apart from news reports and articles, they also came in the form of first-hand accounts, phone camera shots, status reports, blog entries and tweets, proliferating across social media. For millions of Filipinos online, the social media interface became a taproot of continuously changing information on affected areas. Facebook and Twitter became a communication network for directing and redirecting relief efforts, as well as media attention. The scale of participation and the level of it operated on—down to the kinds of medicines that were most needed on the field at the current time, the brands of water tablets that were most effective, and the names of the persons who would be delivering the relief goods—also created a level of unprecedented involvement in traditional media. In the slow chaos that ensued in the wake of Yolanda, we have been able to witness the tragedy on a level of granularity and immediacy that has redefined the idea of the writer, and the audience, and even of news itself. We have also been able to participate in the news, and change it as it happens, for better or for worse. This hyperrealistic, bullet-time kind of slowness—where the sheer density of vertical information has translated into an acute awareness of the passage of horizontal time—has also created a level of unprecedented

noise. Social media channels quickly became bulletin boards and soapboxes for emotions and opinions. Several prominent Filipino writers have posted articles in high profile traditional print publications, from The New Yorker to the New York Times, ranging from pieces that followed the old-school expository formula to thoughtful reactions to a perceived world opinion that had congealed around sound and video bites on international news. The world, it seems, does still turn on words. Today, anybody at the receiving end of a camera or equipped with a mobile phone can write them. But today it turns differently. Perhaps it will help to imagine the writer of that hundred-year old article, had he lived to this day, and like a number of writers and editors at this magazine, visited the scene, collected the narratives and written in these pages. He would have seen a very different storm from the one we endured a century ago. He would have had a different view of the lives of those affected and the loss they continue to endure. He would have told a very different story, a story of debilitating loss and terrifying devastation and hard-fought hope, without the need to fudge the details or apply the emotional convenience of closure. He would have felt a very real sense of purpose about his craft, and his life.

WorldMags.net

D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4 E S Q U I R E 131


WorldMags.net TOP 10 WORDS TO

DESCRIBE THIS BOOK

We have a lot more words in mind, but weâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ll let you have fun deďŹ ning it your way as soon as you begin a mouth-watering food adventure with SPOT.phâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Top 10 Everything Food Lists 2014! START YOUR NEXT FOOD TRIP BY GRABBING A COPY. AVAILABLE IN LEADING BOOKSTORES AND NEWSSTANDS NATIONWIDE FOR ONLY P150.

!   598       685:4 Get those hungry tummies ready! Your best selling restaurant guide is back, featuring 180 must-visit restaurants in Manila and Cebu! with essays by: ++:VMPs+PFM#JOBNJSBs&SXBO)FVTTBĂ&#x161; $ZSFOF%FMB3PTBs4BOKFFC(PQBMEBTs/PFM &SNJUBĂ&#x152;Ps:WFUUF'FSOBOEF[s%BOJ0TNFĂ&#x152;B PRESENTED BY

Grab your copy of Eat Out Now. Available in leading bookstores and newsstands nationwide for only P295.

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

The

MEANING

LIFE

WHETHER IN THE MIDST OF STORMS, LITERAL OR METAPHORICAL, OF SITUATIONS GOD-WROUGHT OR OF THEIR OWN MAKING, THESE WERE THE PEOPLE WHO STUCK IN OUR HEADS: MEN WHO MADE NEWS, CREATED EXPERIENCES, RAISED HACKLES, CHANGED

WorldMags.net

MINDS. HERE ARE EIGHT LIFETIMES’ WORTH OF LESSONS, FROM THE CAUTIONARY TO THE CELEBRATORY.

D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4 E S Q U I R E 133


WHAT I’VE LEARNED

WorldMags.net

N AT I O N A L A R T I S T I N T E RV I E W E D BY K A R A O RT I GA P H OTO G R A P H E D BY JAS O N Q U I B I L A N

Arturo Luz

> I don’t like to talk. And when I am interviewed, I prefer that my

> He did not achieve great things, but he was absolutely honest.

art speak rather than me. I’m a rather quiet person, I’m not talkative. It’s my nature, it’s my character. I’m a painter not a talker. > As soon as I was given that [National Artist] award, people immediately started asking me, “How do you feel now?” And I said, “exactly the same.” It did not change me, in other words. Of course it was very pleasant, but I was not about to go around dancing. > Too many unpleasant things have happened about the National Artist Award. There’s been a great deal of confusion, mostly because of the fact that some presidents interfered with the election process. I think that they have destroyed its reputation. People have become very wary of it. I don’t think we will ever regain its stature. > Ah (laughs) that’s a funny thing. From time to time people come to me and they say, “You know people say that you are very suplado.” And you know what I tell them, and everyone knows this, “Please, add more! Make it worse, so that people will leave me alone.” I do not like to be bothered by people. I want to be left alone. > I’ll tell you something horrible. I’ve had very few friends in my life. I’ve always been a loner. I’ve had about two or three [friends] in my lifetime and only in certain periods. I’ve never had a barkada. > Fernando Zobel. He was very attracted to my work and for a period of about 10 years, I saw him almost every day. I would be in his studio or he would be in my house. We became very close and what brought us together was mostly our art. Those are the only real friendships of my life. > That sounds terrible ‘no? I’m absolutely a loner, and I’m perfectly happy being alone. > My father was a rather common person. He was a small government employee working for what was called the Bureau of Commerce, not a great position. In 1947, he was appointed by the government to be some kind of commercial attaché to the Golden Gate International Exposition [in San Francisco]. We took the first American Dollar Line, the first ship out of the Philippines immediately after the war. So I landed in California and that’s when I started my [art] schooling. That was something he did for me.

The Chinese used to bribe him because of his position at the Bureau. They kept bribing him with bundles of money and he always threw them back. > My mother was a remarkable woman up to the time she was in her 80s, working as an interior designer. A very simple woman, not terribly educated, a housewife, but for some reason she had the gift of putting things together and creating beauty in a home. One of the greatest pleasures in my life is after she was gone, I accepted two awards given to her by the Interior Design Association for having been one of the earliest interior designers in the Philippines. > She used to send me 150 dollars a month [while I was studying abroad], and I lived on that money. I was able to do so many things. But my dear mother had to work very hard to get those dollars and send it to me month after month for five years. > Traveling is a pain in the neck, but it’s because of what I see that it’s fascinating. > I have learned a great deal more about my art. I have learned to be very independent, single-minded, I go after what I want no matter what, I don’t like to be bothered by artists’ interference, visitors, and colors. I hate telephones. I have matured. > I made that fantastic decision to drop subject matter and go completely abstract in 1969. That was the end of figuration, and that went on for 20 years, can you believe it? That I was totally abstract, and I almost starved to death. Literally. No one bought my art for 20 years. I don’t know how I survived. I was hardheaded and I kept on. In 1991, I went back to figuration, that’s why now, my art hovers between figuration and abstraction.

134 E S Q U I R E D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4

> I’ve been working 61 years now. > There is a saying: we painters paint until the day we die. It’s no exaggeration. The day before I die, I’ll probably be here painting. All painters do: Picasso, Matisse—and that’s probably what will happen to me. Why not? Sure. > You’re 80 years old, what more do you want? My answer is… more time to paint.

Arturo Luz’s new show “The Painter as Photographer” is on exhibit at the Silverlens Gallery, Makati City, until December 21, 2013.

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

WorldMags.net


WHAT I’VE LEARNED

WorldMags.net

FILMMAKER

I N T E RV I E W E D BY E RW I N RO M U LO P H OTO G R A P H E D BY JAS O N Q U I B I L A N

> I still have faith in cinema.

Lav Diaz

> Poetry is best achieved in solitude. Solitude is not about being

alone, but a state of deep confinement of beauty within the soul. This is aesthetics. > If I’m not making sense at all, then I am collaborating in life’s total disarray. > Encapsulating life is one of art’s greatest objectives. The greatest works of art mirror the struggle to understand life, the meaning of existence, the battle against time, the value of space. But can we ever really understand suffering, sorrow, melancholia? Can we ever fathom sacrifice, orgasm, evil? Where is God? > I’m still waiting for God to show up. The coffee is eternally ready as I keep it perpetually hot and pure, no sugar, no milk, just black, from the wild banks of Mount Apo, or the dried ipot ng Musang from Batangas; or, yes, Starbucks is just around the corner. O, kung gusto niya ng beer, sige, sa Cubao. And if he is vegan like me, then I’ll serve him nilagang talbos ng kamote dipped in soy and kalamansi. I shall sing to him the greatest hymns of our Malay ancestors. I shall recite to him the greatest poems of Filipino makatas. We shall view together my future 40-hour cinema with the working title Muli Ako Den. I have so many questions, so many things to say to him. If he shows up at all, then maybe, just maybe, just fucking maybe, just fucking maybe, life would be sublime. > I’ve seen evil face to face. His name is Ferdinand E. Marcos, all caps. I remember well the paranoia, the blood. I’d seen bodies after massacres in my Maguindanao. I’d seen burnt villages. They still haunt me; I still see them in my dreams, the smoke, the stench, the wails, those blanked eyes, those numbed gazes. > If I could meet Marcos I would ask him, “Why did you do that to our country?” Of course, we know he was a fascist and a megalomaniac but still I would want to tell him straight: “Man, you fucked us up hardcore. Hayup ka.” > I would also want to meet Emilio Aguinaldo and ask him: “Why

136 E S Q U I R E D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4

did you murder Andres Bonifacio?” We know that it was a power struggle or some envy that sparked it, but I want to talk to him about it and would tell him straight: “Man, you fucked us up hardcore.” > The riskiest thing I ever did was shooting Ebolusyon ng Isang Pamilyang Pilipino for 10 years. > The best thing I ever did with money was buying food for my family. > My father uttered just a few words but he was the most intelligent and humble person I’d known. He knew he had that gift and he used it to the fullest, for those who needed it. I’d always see him walking tirelessly through the forest, crossing the raging rivers, the dangerous trails to reach the remotest villages of Cotabato to educate the Maguindanaons, Bilaans, and Christian settlers. He showed me altruism; how to destroy this thing called ego. > I regret not being able to thank my father for all the wisdom he shared; not being able to be with my children every day; not being able to be with my grandson every day; not being able to do more for humanity. Life is so, so short. > Friendship balances life’s voids. Sadness, yearning, longing, belonging, the need for love, for some footing, for assurances, the walk to the coffee shop, a beer in the bar, a chat and a cigarette and a load of Boy Bawang at Aling Maring’s sari-sari store, or pautang muna dyan, tol. > Death is both corporal and spiritual. One of the greatest struggles of existence is the battle against time. > If you measure life with the destruction of the body, then death is the victory of time. > Art is man’s victory against time. > Music has taught me that despite of all the madness, life is beautiful. > What has growing older taught me? Not to take life for granted.

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

B ROA D C AST J O U R N A L I ST I N T E RV I E W E D BY K A R A O RT I GA P H OTO G R A P H E D BY EDRIC CHEN

Atom Araullo

> The night before landfall, it was really quiet. I woke up around 4 a.m. It was the proverbial calm before the storm. A lot of people were lulled into complacency because they thought, “Oh the stars are out. There was a slight breeze.” > The winds started to pick up at about a quarter to five. They were very strong, like Signal No. 3, 180 km/hr. You get the feeling of dread because you know that it’s approaching. The sound of the wind was unimaginable. If you imagine the engine of a plane, howling, making a low guttural sound. Some of the posts and the roofs were already getting detached. > There were little kids crying. It was a frantic situation. On top of the situation outside, you had all of these people inside who were basically distressed. We tried to calm them down, looked for something to warm them. Some people didn’t know how to swim, so we tied a cord from the stairs to the gate and we were trying to get the people in the building. > The whole place was a mess. Essentially, the entire city of Tacloban was in a daze, panicking, we saw people who lost their loved ones. It was a very bad situation, even for us. > I was thinking, If the Philippines descended into a zombie apocalypse, this would be it. Imagine: no power, no communication, no food or water. There was a total breakdown of order because there was no police, no military, no emergency personnel. It was so dark. There were dead people on the sidewalk. You could hear people crying. > The Saturday after Yolanda hit, people were starting to panic because there was looting going on downtown. I started to panic a little bit, but I had to keep it together because I knew there was no use being frantic. We started to break coconuts that fell on the ground, and that’s what we ate for lunch. > We felt like sometimes words failed us. Like we couldn’t really explain how bad the situation was. But we could rely on the images. > I consider myself pretty prepared for things like these because I’ve covered a lot of calamities. But this was so overwhelming. It’s really the feeling that you can’t do anything about it, and you start to question if what you’re doing is helping them in any way. You’re just telling the story of these people, but is this really what they need at this point? Sometimes, they just need food and water. > At the end of the day, all I could really do was be a reporter. We barely had enough. My role there, my capability, and what I knew how to do, was report. And I would be of best service if I

138 E S Q U I R E D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4

did my job well. > I’m not very religious, but I wouldn’t get into an argument about the existence of God with someone. I recognize that the arguments both ways are basically the mirror image of each other. I recognize the spirituality of everybody, but personally, I try to base my decisions on material factors. Even though it was a catastrophe, there were still real things that happened that could be explained, that can be criticized, that we can draw lessons from. And the “Do you believe in God?” question doesn’t have to become a factor. Maybe if I came really close to death… it might. > Time doesn’t stop. People continue living, and you can never lose hope. There are so many moments in history when the situation was really bleak. I want to believe that we can decide where our lives, and the rest of society are going, but you just have to persevere. > I studied in UP [major in Physics]. I wanted to become a scientist. After graduating, I became a researcher for The Correspondents, I enjoyed it. I became a writer and then I became a reporter. I never went back to doing Physics. > My parents went through a very turbulent time during Martial Law. They continued being active politically. When I was younger I would see them on TV joining rallies. I wasn’t afraid to join rallies, I wasn’t afraid to be at odds with authority at certain points. History tells us you have to push, and that’s when real change happens. I’m always very critical. > There’s a reason why it’s the younger generation that’s more idealistic. As you grow old, you become more jaded, like you feel like there’s really no place for change, and then you feel like “Ah, there’s really nothing we can do about it.” But you really have to fight it, because that’s a dead end. It’s an everyday struggle and you have to recognize that it’s going to be a struggle for the rest of your life. But there are a lot of older people that I look up to, like my mother and my father. They haven’t lost hope, so why should I? > What do I want to know about women? Wow. I guess I want to know if things are improving for them. Kasi we see a lot of changes on the surface, like superficially it may seem like they have more opportunities, they have more or less equal footing, but have times really changed? I feel like there’s still a long way to go. It makes me guilty because I’m still part of that system. I’m a guy in a guy’s world. > Everything I learned, I learned on the job.

WorldMags.net

P R OJ EC T E D P H OTO G R A P H C O U RT E SY O F C E S O LO N D R I Z

WHAT I’VE LEARNED


WorldMags.net

WorldMags.net


WHAT I’VE LEARNED

WorldMags.net

C H I E F C R E AT I V E O F F I C E R , BBDO GUERRERO I N T E RV I E W E D BY AU D R E Y CA R P I O & K A R A O RT I GA P H OTO G R A P H E D BY EDRIC CHEN

David Guerrero

> I didn’t really think advertising was a viable career. After studying an academic degree in International Relations for three years, I came to the realization that no one would know the things I just learned because they would be too difficult to explain and no one cared. > In the mid to late ‘80s there was a rise of political advertising in the UK. Margaret Thatcher’s election in 1979 is credited widely to Saatchi and Saatchi. We started seeing some progressive uses of advertising. It wasn’t purely a tool of the oppressors. That got me interested. Having been to a very liberal university, you think that advertising is the enemy. I came to the view that it is a neutral tool that can be used to communicate ideas for anything or anyone, that it wasn’t inherently bad. > I first came to the Philippines when I was 18. I spent some years here after leaving school. I had always known something about the country from my dad, so I wasn’t completely alien to it. There was no question that what was useful for me coming here was having an outside point of view. I had empathy for the country, but also the objectivity that comes with spending a lot of time overseas. > Advertising is one of those things extremely difficult to do well. It can be done badly in an infinite number of ways. I’ve always felt we’ve got to do things better. > There were a lot of things I was able to do here that I wouldn’t have been able to do in other countries at a younger age. I was able to start my own agency at 37, became creative director at the age of 34. > People regarded the industry differently. There was very much a service culture before, very much about the client always being right. There’s now the added sense that the market is what governs the conversation, and to be part of that conversation, you need to have ideas that are useful to people, actions that are useful to people, so that advertising and communications can earn their place in people’s lives. > What I prioritize is coaching people to push for better ideas for themselves. And to create an environment where great work can happen. > We discovered a little known law. Ninety percent of everything is crap. If you apply that to ideas, it means you really need to

140 E S Q U I R E D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4

come up with 100 ideas to get to 10 that are not crap. As an approach, you need to be generous with what you write down, and not try to sit there for ages and write down one thing you think is brilliant. > The big winner last year was the repurposing of SIM cards for text books (by DM9 Jayme Syfu). Previously we won awards for a collaboration with Pepsi, making bottle lights. There’s been quite a lot of non-traditional work. It’s very Filipino. Ingenuity, seeing things that people with abundance don’t. > I’ve never felt [like quitting the industry]. I do hear people talk about this, they tend to be really successful people who have nothing left to prove, they’re already looking for some new world to conquer, or there are people who found it very difficult to get what they wanted to achieve. I don’t think I fall into that category, I fall in the category of still believing that I can do better and wanting to do better. It’s enough motivation to keep going. > Lately I’ve been concerned with how people don’t like to read. The translations of Noli and Fili in particular. They’re not books anyone is reading for pleasure and yet we have a statue of Rizal in every town. I’ve given some thought on how to bring him to life more. That’s one of the projects, making an app for Noli and Fili. > We started Manila Envelope in 2005. There have been highs and lows of this. The initial idea was to collect examples of where the Philippines is mentioned in global culture. The Miguel Syjuco issue, that was unfortunate. The time that it had taken the message of “Don’t let anyone reprint any of this” had been lost in the intervening years. That experience made me think I was probably overreaching myself, taking on a project like that. > My father gave me a sense of duty, that there are bigger causes than yourself that you need to believe in. His cause was his country. I think I’ve wanted to make some small contribution to add on to that, that was what he gave to me. > He continues to be an influence on me with his writing. I look at what he did, which was a huge amount in a short space of time, the biography of Rizal and the translations of Noli and Fili. A five-year period where he was intensely productive and did all these things he will be remembered for. I’m hoping my fiveyear period is still ahead of me.

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

WorldMags.net


WHAT I’VE LEARNED

WorldMags.net

LEAD SINGER, P A R O K YA N I E D G A R I N T E RV I E W E D BY LU I S K AT I G BA K P H OTO G R A P H E D BY JAS O N Q U I B I L A N

Chito Miranda

> As long as you make fun of yourself, nobody else can.

[in high school], we learned that being funny is more important than being talented. Kasi we were a bunch of kids lang na walang talent at walang skill. Ang daming magagaling dun, ka-batch namin si Mike Elgar from Rivermaya, and Mark Laccay, another excellent musician, and they’re super talented and we cannot do what they do, pero kaya naming mangulit at magpatawa. > One thing that I also learned from being [in Ateneo], ayoko maging stereotypical na Atenista na nakaporma, na naka-expensive na damit, expensive na shoes, ganun. [I learned] ‘yung simplicity of being anti-sosyal—di naman anti-social, pero anti-sosyal. > The best thing I’ve ever done with money is save it. Wala akong ginagawa kundi ipunin nang ipunin—wala akong fancy cars, wala akong lavish na bahay. [My savings] give me the sense of security that I’m doing the right thing, and I can do whatever I want when it comes to the band. Even if I quit now, I’ll survive on the interest of what I’ve saved. > I want people to like and enjoy our songs. I don’t know if that’s being a sellout or that’s compromising your artistic integrity, pero sa akin, whenever I come up with songs, ‘di ko iniisip na kailangan kumita ‘to, because I already bought that security, by saving everything that I’ve earned. So ngayon, ‘pag gagawa ako ng kanta, iniisip ko lang, sana magustuhan ‘to ng mga tao, sana marinig nila ‘to at sabihin nila, ang galing ng kantang ‘to. Nakakatawa ‘tong kantang ‘to, or naka-relate ako sa kantang ‘to or ang sakit ng kantang ‘to or na feeling talaga nila sila ‘yung kinausap ko. > I’m doing this for the people who love listening to our band, but I’m not doing this for the money. There’s a difference. > Playing for different audiences, it’s like a video game with different bosses; you have to figure out their specific weakness for you to give them a good show. Most musicians, selfish sila eh, they just play and do their thing. Kami we’re not musicians, I think we’re more of entertainers. I can’t dazzle the audience with my singing voice, so what I do is I just make sure they’re enjoying. Just like sex: para magustuhan ka ng babae, do what she wants, or kung ano yung hinihingi. Basta at the end of the > From our first performances

142 E S Q U I R E D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4

gig, dapat pagbaba ng stage, pag-alis ng mga tao, dapat you both had fun at that moment na nagtagpo kayo. > I bought a house and asked my family to move in with me. For the longest time kasi, di ba, kasama ko lang sila 8 [Toleran, of the band Cheese]—’yung mga years na ‘yun, rock and roll talaga. Walang parents, walang laundry, eat whatever you want, do whatever you want, wake up whenever you want. Eventually na-miss ko ‘yung ‘pag gising mo may breakfast, fresh na ‘yung clothes mo, having someone na pag-uwi mo, andun na ‘yung family mo. So what I did, I went back to the village kung saan nakatira ‘yung parents ko and my brother, and bought a bigger house and asked them to move in. Sobrang masaya. Di masyadong rock and roll like before, [but it’s good for me], now I’m totally sober from any substance abuse. > I learned from my bandmates that everyone is different from each other—you cannot expect them to act the same way or think the way you think; you need to realize that you are an individual and they are individuals. You need to, in a way, compromise. ‘Di mo puwedeng ipilit yung gusto mo at ‘di mo rin puwedeng basta sundin ‘yung gusto niya. You have to meet at a point where pareho kayong masaya. > Girls are not really into looks. As long as they enjoy being with you... Siyempre magkaka-crush sila ng mga pogi, pero ang mga girls, di naman sila mababaw eh. > Never ko na-enjoy at all makipag-sex sa hindi ko mahal. I don’t know why. The story of my life when it comes to that is, I’d flirt with someone, and get to the boobs part, pero when it comes to taking off our pants, I don’t want to kapag ‘di ko mahal. I don’t know why, but the libog factor ends there. Sa lifestyle siguro namin, if I did [have sex without love], siguro may sakit na ako ngayon, o patay na ako ngayon talaga. > I have no problems with growing old. The thing is, sobrang nageenjoy ako sa ginagawa ko. It’s not regret, I think, the fact na gusto mo balikan lahat ng ginawa mo. Kasi na-enjoy ko lahat, gusto ko ulitin lahat exactly how I did everything, and how we did everything as a band. Kung baga sa theme park, mas mahaba pa sana ‘yung ride.

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

WorldMags.net


WHAT I’VE LEARNED

WorldMags.net

SINGER/SONGWRITER I N T E RV I E W E D BY K A R A O RT I GA P H OTO G R A P H E D BY EDRIC CHEN

Freddie Aguilar > I was like that guy singing (on stage at Ka Freddie’s bar). I was

mo, kasi yan lang ipapamana ko sa’yo.”

doing folk singing in Olongapo around ’73. Nasulat ko yung “Anak” one lazy afternoon, nung bigla akong nagflashback. San ba ako galing? Galing pala ako sa tiyan ng nanay ko and then I grew up and gave them problems. At least naisip ko na naging salbahe ako. > My father wanted me to be a lawyer. That’s why I ran away when I was 17. So seven years after, tinamaan ako ng guilt. When you are a teenager everything is cool. But when I was 24, yun yung stage ng buhay ko na nag iba na. So yun nga, “nang isilang ka sa mundong ito…” Then I taped it in my cassette recorder, I played it back, and I was crying and crying. I realized I wrote a repentance song from a prodigal son. > I didn’t plan for it to become popular. My plan was just to let my father hear it, to make him realize na nagbago na ako. So one day umuwi ako, dala-dala ko yung lyrics, pinabasa ko kay erpat. He put his arm on my shoulder and he said, “Oh, nagbago ka na pala eh, pero dapat abogado ka pa rin. Kasi yung trabaho mo anak, pag wala nang pumapalakpak sayo, wala ka nang trabaho.” Di ko naman masabi na, “marunong naman ako gumawa ng kanta.” > Nung panahon ko, you are not allowed to say anything to your father unless you are asked. My father never heard my song because he died in ’76 and the song became very famous in ’78. > Yung unang kotse ko was a two-door Ford Escort. Because before “Anak” I didn’t have a car. Later on, Vic Sotto bought the same model. I will never forget that, my first car. > My lolo and my father were soldiers, guerillas, so yung pagmamahal nila sa bayan natin was not only, “I love my country,” because they fought for the country. So pinalaki nila akong ganun. > Sabi ng tatay ko, “Ang pangalan, hindi nabibili yan. So alagaan

> Pag sinesermonan ka pala ng nanay at tatay mo, it sounds

144 E S Q U I R E D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4

corny... like nothing is going into your brain. Pero paglaki mo pala lahat ng sinabi nila sa iyo nai-store pala dyan, so one day pag kelangan mo siya gamitin, nandyan siya. > When I would audition before, they used to tell me I didn’t know how to sing. But I thought I was better than the other guys, kasi pag tumugtog sila pare-pareho. Pag James Taylor, James Taylor silang lahat. Pag Cat Stevens parehong-pareho sila. I thought I had a style. But at that time pala walang stylestyle. Hanggang ngayon sakit pa rin nating mga Pilipino yun eh. > I think learning how to write a song [is my greatest achievement]. Nung panahon na ’yon, walang original. Lahat na maririnig mo na kanta sa radyo puro adaptation ng English song na tinagalog. Parang wala akong inspirasyon na magsulat ng original, kaya lang I had this strong feeling that I could sing and write. Siguro destiny nga. Kontra sa lahat yun eh. > I plan to get married again but my present girlfriend is a minor so I cannot do anything. We were talking about it until the media started [making noise]. I could’ve lied [to the media] but I have no intention of lying because my intention to my girlfriend is clean. Bakit ako magsisinungaling? [Editor’s note: Freddie married his 16-year old girlfriend last November 22 under Muslim rites after the singer converted to Islam.] > That’s the way I court, I tell you straight. With my second wife, ‘di ko talaga matiis, sabi ko [on the first day we met], “I think I’m in love with you.” Pinagtawanan ako. Sabi ko, “I’m going to prove it to you. What do you think? I told you I love you, I want an answer, yes or no.” Ganun ako. > I am an Aquarius, supposed to be a romantic person, and sincere. Although pag umayaw, ayaw na talaga.

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

WorldMags.net


WHAT I’VE LEARNED

WorldMags.net

C H E F/ R E S TA U R AT E U R I N T E RV I E W E D BY LU I S K AT I G BA K P H OTO G R A P H E D BY EDRIC CHEN

> My advice for all prospective chefs: Eat everywhere, try

everything. > Growing up, I didn’t realize the quality of food that I was exposed

to. We had a French restaurant called Au Bon Vivant; we had French chefs—the type of chefs na talagang moody, they would drive you out of the kitchen! I grew up that way, and I didn’t realize the standard of cuisine that I was exposed to, until I started eating in different restaurants, and I wasn’t happy with their food. > ‘Yun ang exposure ko, and I think it started my desire to discover more good food. Like I say, it’s like opening a gift for Christmas—you want to surprise yourself. Every time I go to a new restaurant, I’m excited, because I don’t know what to expect. > My latest discovery? I have a food show called FoodPrints, we went to Batangas and I tried the best puto in Batangas—Ninay’s Puto, ‘yung putong puti, grabe. > The idea of FoodPrints is to uplift Philippine cuisine. Now, how do we do that? We go to the different provinces, we feature the old manangs na maluwag ‘yung braso, na braless, na nagluluto ng ganyan [makes cooking gesture], na ‘pag tinray nila, talagang—wow, etong Pinoy food! The idea is for you to go to, for example, Lipa—to try Ninay’s puto and taste this brand of panucha or this brand of bulalo, whatever. When you leave, ang impression mo is—my gosh, I didn’t know we had food that good in Batangas, or Bulacan, or Ilocos Norte. In the end, we’re going to cover the whole Philippines. In the end, you will realize—ang sarap pala ng pagkain ng Pilipinas. > Living in Paris gave me confidence. Before that, if somebody from Assumption talked to me, hindi ako nakakasalita, kasi English. I was that intimidated! But when I went to Paris I realized: Here I am, I can survive in a foreign country. I don’t even speak their language and I can survive, I can make myself understood. What more in Manila, di ba? > Paris exposed me to culture. I was studying at the American college in Paris. What did I understand about art? Zero. But I enrolled in an art class, and our classes were at the Louvre. We were studying the original paintings—how can you not appreciate that? > And fine cuisine. It also made me proud because we had a Philippine restaurant in Paris, and that restaurant became one of

146 E S Q U I R E D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4

Sandy Daza

the top two Asian restaurants in the whole of Paris. As a Filipino, you would have been very proud. > I learned to be proud of being a Filipino in Paris, because I missed the Philippines. > I always use the logic that if a foreigner eats food and the ingredients are not familiar to them, that becomes exotic. > Everyone likes to be surprised. When I create a recipe, I create something that I want, that will surprise the diner. Something na iba. I pick up ideas everywhere, and try something. Dinakdakan is a dish I tried in Ilocos Norte; I tried to recreate it, it really made an imprint on my brain. > The best thing is seeing satisfied customers or satisfied readers or satisfied viewers. When they tell me, “Alam mo, tinray ko ‘yung recipe mo, ang sarap,” or “I tried the restaurant you recommended—loved it.” People come to me and say “Ang sarap ng pagkain mo, mura pa!” Sabi ko, “Hayaan mo, tataasan ko para sa ‘yo.” > If I could choose my last meal? Para sa akin, in the end, Pinoy food. ‘Yung unhealthy, sticky, fattening adobo. With plenty of rice, ‘yung iba-bounce mo ‘yung karne dun sa kanin mo, at magkakamay ka. Inom ka ng malamig na Coke na dumidikit sa ilong mo ‘yung yelo. > Actually, adobo is a risk, kasi everybody claims to have the best adobo recipe. Kasi may comfort food aspect ‘yan eh. We grew up, na wala pang problema sa buhay, masaya kami noon, tapos ito ‘yung kinain naming adobo. So to them, pinakamasarap na adobo ‘to. Kasama na ‘yung mga memories dun eh. > The best lesson my father taught me? To be kind to everyone, regardless of stature. And to exercise generosity without telling people what you’ve done. > The best lesson my mother taught me was: if it tastes good to you, serve it. > Having said that, you have to tune your palate. Dati sarap na sarap na tayo sa chocolate sa sari-sari store, then you get exposed to the better chocolate, then all of a sudden, ‘di na ganun kasarap. So with that statement comes great responsibility, because you cannot just be happy with where your palates are— you’re still learning. > I learned that work can be play. To me, this is not work; I’m just playing. That’s how blessed I am.

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

WorldMags.net


WHAT I’VE LEARNED

WorldMags.net

L AW Y E R / F O R M E R D E F E N S E S E C R E TA R Y I N T E RV I E W E D BY E RW I N RO M U LO P H OTO G R A P H E D BY EDRIC CHEN

Nonong Cruz

> I was the president of the student council in Ateneo when Martial Law was imposed in 1972. We were fighting it a lot. A lot of my colleagues either ended up dead or in prison, so it was very bad. Power should not be in the hands of one person for a long time. I think democracy is a good invention of man, a more opaque society, a more liberal society, just checks and balances. And it can lead to a more prosperous country. > It’s a very rewarding experience to contribute to nation-building. Of course there’s a lot of grief and pain, and weeping and gnashing of teeth when you go through the government, but when you look back, it was well worth it. > Right now I’m concentrated on the private sector. Definitely in 2016, I’m going to campaign for an honest president. For me that is the key, that is an indispensable qualification of any president, at least of this country. It’s got to be at the very least honest. > You will be growing up in a more interesting Philippines than my generation, because I have great hope that if you have three honest presidents, this country will dramatically grow and there will be development for everybody. > In government, there is no substitute for experience. Theory is good but a lot of times it doesn’t help you much. Experience is very important. > Risk? That’s an interesting word. I associate risk with financial risk. To me, I only take risks when I can live the consequences of not winning the gamble. I’m a very conservative person when it comes to risk. > I wish a lot of these technological advancements and all these economic developments happened 20 years ago. > Hard work has its own rewards. That’s what they kept pounding on us, you have to work hard, work on your talents. > All of us should learn how to listen. I prefer kind people. I don’t like the masyadong callous na mga tao.

148 E S Q U I R E D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4

> I feel more certain about the economic future of the country. I think we are entering into becoming a middle-income country. Our consumers are starting to have purchasing power. The passage of the sin tax for example, was a battle for more than 10 years and it happened. There are good things happening in the country. > The first surprise that I had when I worked in government is that there are so many honest, competent, and hardworking people in the bureaucracy. It’s so surprising because you’re from the outside, you’re thinking that everybody is tiwalag, but there are just so many. The Emy Boncodins, the Renato Solidums of PHILVOLCS, the Dr. Tayags of DOH just keep working and working. In the DFA, there are so many good foreign service officers, ambassadors, and consuls. In the DTI, Bangko Sentral, it’s a big surprise. And then when you deal with politicians, you’re surprised that they take to heart the national interest, like the Ramon Magsaysay, Jrs, who do their work. So it’s a surprise in the sense, but a pleasant surprise. Of course there is also the other side, but the world’s not perfect. > Character. The important thing to me is the character of the person. Sense if the person has a good character. It’s good to work and deal with these people, in and out of the government. > My policy has always been, in commercial undertakings, I don’t partner with friends. I keep it separated, and I think it has served me well. It’s just instinct. I’ve kept my professional life and personal life a little different. For example, in social undertakings, yes. But in commercial and professional, I avoid it. > The problem when you’re 60 years old, your focus is not on that anymore (laughs). I’ve forgotten a lot of things about women. > I think it would be interesting to meet Jesus Christ, as a leader. Or Julius Caesar. I think great leaders have positive impact. > I f your set of values is correct, it’s a virtue. But if your set of values is screwed up then you’re a very dangerous person.

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

WorldMags.net


CREDITS GO HERE

For two weeks in October and November, Tim Serrano set out to photograph the nongovernment organization establishments that allegedly benefited from the Priority Development Assistance Fund, more popularly known as â&#x20AC;&#x153;pork barrel.â&#x20AC;? He went to 11 addresses on the list of the Commission on Audit report, most of them located in Metro Manila (one was in Laguna), but

only found five that had structures or lots that could actually be photographed, not one of which contained any semblance of an office. Among the ones Serrano shot: a vacant property where an old house used to be, now being used as a place to park jeepneys and vans; a residential home being looked after by a caretaker (the owners are based in the province, and told the

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, THIS IS WHERE YOUR TAXES WENT

PHOTOGRAPHS BY TIM SERRANO

photographer they do not run, nor are they part of, an NGO); an entrance to a building which leads to a series of small residential apartments and storage rooms; and an empty lot for lease. The rest of the 11 Serrano visited turned out to be made up addresses.

THE PORK ESTATE WorldMags.net

WorldMags.net


CREDITS GO HERE

WorldMags.net

Kaagapay Magpakailanman Foundation, Inc. 339 Quezon Avenue P90.75 Million

WorldMags.net

D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4 E S Q U I R E 151


WorldMags.net

152 E S Q U I R E D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net People's Organization for Progress and Development Foundation, Inc. Block 23, Lot 59, Phase 2, EP Village, Taguig P24.25 Million

WorldMags.net

D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4 E S Q U I R E 153


WorldMags.net Kasangga sa Magandang Bukas Foundation, Inc. 911 Algeciras St., Bgy. 473, Zone 047, Sampaloc, Manila P56.551 Million

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

WorldMags.net


CREDITS GO HERE

WorldMags.net

156 E S Q U I R E D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net Aaron Foundation Philippines, Inc. 2326 Juan Luna St., Tondo, Manila

CREDITS GO HERE

P525 Million

WorldMags.net

D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4 E S Q U I R E 157


WorldMags.net

Pangkabuhayan Foundation, Inc. 1242 Oroquieta St., Sta Cruz, Manila P56.551 Million

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

160 E S Q U I R E D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4

WorldMags.net


I E S Q U R E ’ S 9  WorldMags.net 9

WE COULD ALL USE A DRINK THESE DAYS, AND IT JUST SO HAPPENS WE’VE NEVER HAD THIS MANY OPTIONS TO DO EXACTLY THAT. THE ESQUIRE STAFF VENTURES INTO THE MANILA NIGHT SCENE AND RETURNS WITH STORIES OF FLIRTATION, NOSTALGIA, AND TRYING TO ESCAPE FROM PERSISTENT BOUNCERS.

9  P H O T O G R A P H S

B Y

9

JOSEPH PASCUAL

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

R E NIN I H IC A N A N 9 M U L O O R W I N Y E R 9  B

B

Y THE TIME she arrives at the bar, you've already had a couple of drinks. The place isn’t full, but it's crowded enough, occupying the space provided by the high ceilings with as much chatter as music. She asks for the menu, which you perused several times already while waiting. There are many cocktails on offer, and many others not on the list that can be made, according to what you feel like having tonight. You look around the bar while she decides what to order first. Everyone seems to be drinking the same thing. They all seem to laugh at the same time too. You consider the options. Every cocktail promises an experience of something you can taste with more than your tongue—the various flavors that go into a single concoction are the result of a mixture of possibilities summoned, like genies, from the bottles that line the back of the bar. Even if you’ve already started drinking, you opt for the familiar, and ask for something bitter and with as much alcohol as possible—she just got here, and wants something sour, with a bit of a zing. The drinks are made and served. You clink your glasses and take the first sip. This isn’t your first drink together, but it feels like your first drink of the night. You enjoy it without thinking and finish yours before she finishes hers. You drink too fast, she says. And she’s right. After all, a cocktail should be enjoyed and not just consumed. Think of them as memories: each serving needs time to be fully appreciated, if not understood. But you always drink this fast, and now ask yourself why. Enough people have said as much to you about your drinking habits. And you start to wonder to yourself if that is in any way significant, or if it actually means anything at all. 162 E S Q U I R E D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4

After this round, you immediately go for the next, and you decide to try something new—perhaps something you’ve never had before, or only have a faint recollection of trying, once. This time you savor the drink, allowing the conversation to tipsy your senses instead of the alcohol. And you talk about many things, about what has happened in the past and the plans being made for the future, but you are—for this moment at least—fully in the present. The talking sobers as much as it intoxicates, and you notice the nape of her neck for the first time, how elegant a slope it makes. Without effort, artifice, or expectation of an audience, she is the most luminous presence in this bar, the interior lighting revealing genuine warmth in her each expression, while lending only a faint glow to the painted faces of the other women here tonight. You are very grateful for the company. Last calls are made and you both decide to have one more drink. You are not drunk, but feel as giddy as if you are. Although you do not remember what it was you ordered, you do know that you enjoyed it. In fact, on your way home you can’t distinguish any more between the names of all the drinks that night. It doesn’t really matter. They were the best you ever had.

WorldMags.net

SHOULD YOU WISH TO ORDER FOR HER NINER ICHI NANA’S MAIN MAN ERWAN HEUSSAFF SUGGESTS THREE DRINKS FOR THE LADY

9 THE WHISKY SOUR

What it is: A whisky sour is a classic, a staple in most bars and clubs around the world. A tired classic if you will— that never gets done properly. Some bourbon, a good homemade sour mix, an egg white for texture, and some proper simple syrup. Shaken to perfection and strained into a chilled cocktail glass. She will probably think you are unoriginal. But the trick is to explain to her why you ordered that in this particular bar: Because they do it well and you wanted her to try one the way it's supposed to be made.

THE B AND B

What it is: Quite an obscure classic, found in the depths of the Savoy Cocktail book. A B and B is basically Brandy and Benedictine. It’s off the menu, but the bartenders know how to make it. It's obscure and mysterious. It's for those girls who say "I'm not really a fan of cocktails. I'm more of a straight liquor girl." Be the one to explain to her that the very first cocktails ever made were just liquor mixes. This is one of them.

T H E E U R AS I A

What it is: It’s a perfect blend of elderflower liquor, chili, cucumber, scotch and lemon juice that is shaken hard and poured on crushed ice. This is for the one who is somewhat adventurous, has already been to the place and tried most of the cocktails. It’s a solid clean cocktail with surprising flavor.


WorldMags.net

ARACAMA 9  BY K A R A O R T I G A 9

W

E’RE STUMBLING towards Aracama a little before midnight. There's a beer in my hand and two hidden inside my canvas tote. Before this, me, Jerome (Esquire’s Senior Staff Writer) and Edric (Associate Art Director) were hailing a cab from a side street bar in Makati, under the rain, already tipsy. We were headed to Aracama for our intern’s birthday. A stocky lady bouncer with boy-cut hair confiscates all the beer we try to sneak in. Bitch. We spot our intern in his seafoam green doggy-patterned pants at a table in the al fresco lounge. Jerome seems like he’s enjoying himself, but then he leaves, and never comes back His excuse was he “couldn’t get the music,” which, really, should be the only reason anyone’s allowed to French exit. Ever. They have this electro-pop party music on loop and people are dancing to the same song four times throughout the night but it falls on deaf inebriated ears. The intern is sloshed and he scrambles to the top of the couch, face covered in sticky whipped cream from his birthday cake. He is 19 years old. He's attempting a cute dance but his equilibrium is off, so he falls backwards to the floor and lands with a thud. I'm hiding my uncontrollable laughter. He’s okay though; he pops up from behind the couch flashing the same drunken grin, and Edric even convinces the bouncer not to kick him out. It's his birthday, after all. About an hour later, it’s just Edric and me and a bunch of 19-year-olds fist pump-

ing. We’re so distracted by the hilarity of everything around us that we don’t notice the waiter approaching with the bill. Apparently, the intern has left the building, and he forgot to settle his tab. We refuse to pay, so the waiter calls in a bouncer who pushes us to cough up the cash. I signal Edric to make a run for it because maybe my woman charms are the key to our escape. He manages to exit, but the bouncer is not letting me go. He’s cornering me and badgering me to pay. At first this was funny, now it’s annoying. I attempt to leave, descending the wooden steps of Aracama to the landing with the fake green shrubbery, and now the bouncers are working hand in hand to make sure I don’t escape. Lady bouncer who took my beers has barricaded me in. Oh you cold-hearted woman. Now we’re making a scene and people are losing their temper. Edric resurfaces and tries to convince the bouncers that we were together and I’m not involved in the mess and it’s time for us to go. But the arguing is getting heated, we’re tired, so we decide to just pool our money to pay the bill. “Okey? Can we go now?” I ask, to which a lady responds, quite irritated, “Wait lang ha, check lang po namin kasi baka hindi naman dapat kayo ang magbabayad ng bill.” Fantastic timing for logic to sink in, when we’ve already grudgingly given them what they want. The flurry ends with a civil handshake with their general manager like I'm in the principal’s office. We're out of Aracama by 3am, feet tired, cursing under our breath. In the news, the storm is about to pick up and the rain is pouring hard. We feel harassed, but also, there’s an unusual sense of victory, some pride. People go to Aracama to feel young, and I can understand, because tonight feels like juvenile delinquency.

WorldMags.net

D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4 E S Q U I R E 163


WorldMags.net

E V i Pr 9 BA K AT I G K S LU I 9  BY

I

T WAS A RAINY MISERABLE TUESDAY NIGHT when we went to Privé Luxury Club. Neither my date nor I had ever been there before, so there was some debate about where to park, followed by a kind of slapstick comedy sequence involving an uncooperative umbrella and much stumbling around before we finally made our way to the club entrance. Inside was a cavernous darkness broken up by mirrored surfaces and sharp stabs of colored light (as well as the occasional incongruous detail, like a wooden bannister that seemed transplanted from a different club, or a different era altogether). Since my current health problems have left me with impaired vision, I felt like a lab rat being stress-tested by a scientist who was also an aspiring DJ. Luckily my seeing-eye date led us to the area where all the tables and seats were. Everything was decorated with a RESERVED sign, but one brief conversation with an accommodating waiter later, and we were occupying one of the couches, and ordering our drinks. My date’s off-menu whisky sour was very good—they didn’t skimp on the alcohol, bless them—and my drink was very rehydrating and refreshing (it was water). A plate of interesting cheese puffs took the edge off our hunger, and we surveyed our surroundings. The table to our right was populated by a barkada of young men and women making noise and having fun while blowing their first salaries or last allowances. Here and there were middle-aged foreigners who did not seem driven by any purpose in particular. Later, in the hallway, we would run into a trio of teens in T-shirts taking a group selfie. The godlike and glamorous clubgoers which Privé seemed to promise— the club’s seats are arranged for mutual, maximized peoplewatching—were not in attendance on this Tuesday, as we approached midnight. The music, though abhorrent to my date, was not disagreeable to me; it all sounded like RAC remixes or forgotten dance hits from an alternate 80s universe (which amounts to the same thing, really). I remembered nights spent dancing the hours away in spaces not unlike this—nights of shameless dreaming, of drunkenly shouted lyrics, of slick skins and giddy longing. This was not going to be one of those nights. No one was even dancing, yet. We would leave before long (and stop for late-night keema on the way home). I’m no stranger to nightspots, though usually cheap beers and a band (or slew of bands) are involved. I spent much of my twenties in bars like Mayrics and Millennia. Privé is, of course, something else: a place my younger self would probably want to kick my current self in the ass for going to. I still don’t fully understand why people go there. But the staff is very helpful, and on the nights when the music is great and the beautiful people are out in full force, it must be something to behold. It’s not you, Privé, it’s me. 164 E S Q U I R E D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4

WorldMags.net


RED LIGHTS, SMALL CITY

WorldMags.net

WHERE TO HANG OUT IN BURGOS

9

E L C H U PACA B R A

They have ice-cold beers by the bucket, and a variety of soft tacos for less than a hundred pesos. If it’s not the sisig tacos you come back for, it’s their cheap-ass beer. 5782 Felipe St. cor. Polaris St., Makati City Tel. No. 895-1919

H A N D L E BA R

Home of the Mad Dog Motorcycle Club, the biker pit stop has become refuge for expats and sports enthusiasts looking to have a few pints and some good ol’ greasy American chow. 31 Polaris St., Bel-Air Village, Makati City Tel. No. 898-2189

9  BY J O N T Y C R U Z 9

M

IDGET BOXING? What? We can watch a midget boxing match in Ringside. Can we do something else? You’re the one who wanted to go to Burgos. I know, but let’s not start this night with midget boxing? Well, what do you want to do? If you want to drink, there’s a lot here. Or we can eat. We can do whatever. But yeah, anything that involves alcohol would be best. Burgos has a lot of alcohol. It almost feels like one giant bar actually. Maybe not get drunk right out of the gate. Can we do something else before we drink? Do you want to get a massage? Here? I’d rather watch midget boxing. Let’s just eat first. Okay, do you like tacos? There’s a place nearby called El Chupacabra. I think I’ve heard of that. A friend said he saw John Lloyd Cruz eat there. It’s pretty good. There’s also the Filling Station. What do they have? Burgers. I like their shakes. I brought a girl there once. Was it… Yeah it’s her. She kind of got insulted at first when I told her we were going to Burgos actually, but it turned out well. How is she? Are you still going out? No. She said she wasn’t ready. For what? For more. She’s moving to Cebu for work and didn’t want to start anything

new before she leaves. Plus she said some line that she can’t trust good guys anymore. Forget her and forget crazy girls. Anyway, so what else is here? Have you been to Ro--? Yeah. And no. Why? My dad took me there for my 18th birthday. He thought it’d be funny. It wasn’t. What happened? I promise I won’t laugh. He brought me to a room and left. He didn’t tell me what was going to happen and then a girl came in. Oh my god… Yeah, and then the music started playing. She moved closer. I couldn’t move. Like my brain just told my entire body to stay still. She sat on my lap. My hands were just there beside my lap, like I would die if I moved an inch. I couldn’t breathe. The dance was over before the song ended. It feels like everyone has one of those stories here. I guess everyone who comes here is looking for a story. So what’s your reason for coming here? You know, I don’t even know. Anyway, there’s Heckle and Jeckle. Heard of that place, how is it? It’s good but it’s different now. How so? For one thing it’s just called H&J now. It was crazier then. So, just like everything else. Yeah, everything’s tamer now. Remember music back then? Like ‘90s hip-hop?

WorldMags.net

P. Burgos cor. Kalayaan Ave., Makati City Tel. No. 899-7106

Not really. Well, like Wu-Tang or Gang Starr. Those guys had some balls. Even LL Cool J was great. Mama said knock you out! LL Cool J, I know. Have you heard Drake’s new album? No, because like I said, the stuff now is really tame, it’s just bullshit. I’m guessing there isn’t a place here to listen to good music? I don’t think anyone comes here for good music. Okay, how about we go to Beers Paradise? Nothing happens there. Handlebar? But we’ve been there already. I like Handlebar. It feels like it’s in its own place. It’s outside looking in at Burgos. I feel this would be easier if we were old white guys. Don’t be that guy. What guy? That guy who thinks he’s above all this. Like those assholes who think less of people who go here. Okay, I apologize. I didn’t mean to be that guy. Fuck those guys. I’ll take any person here over assholes who think they’re better than everyone else. I apologize. For the record, I hate those guys too. Okay, so really what do you want to do tonight? What are you looking for? I don’t know. Just something to pass the time. D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4 E S Q U I R E 165

CREDITS GO HERE

BURGOS

RINGSIDE

For one of those kitschy nights, Ringside is top-of-mind destination, where you can oil midgets and watch ladies box. Peculiar sports fetish? But you’ll love that you can also play along—even if just for one night.


WorldMags.net MALATE BY THE HOUR 9 6PM

The best place to ease into the artsy vibe of the area and the storied past of Old Manila is 1335 Mabini, a gallery which is also the establishment’s address. It offers the most cutting edge in contemporary Filipino art housed in one of the oldest art deco buildings in the country. If the art here seems too avant garde for you, step out into the street and explore the stores still selling “Mabini art,” artworks of nature and landscapes and fruits in bowls that, depending on how you look at it, can go from tacky to sublime, with prices that range from P300 to P3000. 1335 Mabini Street, Ermita, Manila

7PM

FINDERs KEEPERs 9  BY A U D R E Y N . C A R P I O 9

A

BOMBED-OUT warehouse facade, looking all Lower East side with no signage, tells me I've found the place. Sitting ominously on the driveway is Joe's Meat Shack, a container van painted matte black, with only a pale light flickering inside. I've certainly chosen the right night to go out, the night of All Souls, when there is not a soul in sight. It is also only 8:30 p.m. I walk through a hatch and instinctively open the door in the right-hand corner, fumbling my way through a maze of curtains. Yes, this is it. Finders Keepers in red lights across the bar. A handful of bartenders are setting the mise-en-place for the cocktails ahead, and conscious of being the only customer in the joint, I sit at the bar and order myself a caipirinha. The head bartender smiles at me. He recognizes me from M Café nights, when I used to drink vodka tonics, years ago. This point of reference humanizes the situation, and I relax into my cocktail, which is strong and tart and uses real cachaça. A live Kings of Leon set plays on the system and I'm grateful for

166 E S Q U I R E D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4

something I can actually listen to. The ghosts of Halloween still linger in the room, sitting on the swing, convening along the dining table with dripping candelabra, or draped over the red velvet couches that are starting to look weathered. I am liking this place. Possibly because I am alone. It's a bar that takes you out of the world and pulls you into another one, as far as you can go without trying to replicate New York in some pretentious or hokey way. We're not in a mall, or in some shiny entertainment complex. We're in an actual warehouse, and I'm taken back to the days partying on Pasong Tamo more than a decade ago when there were no superclubs to speak of and the parking lot was just as happening as inside. With Black Market next door (which happened to be shuttered that night), this pocket of night life carved out of the darkness is the grown-up version of the Laureano Compound, with crafted cocktails instead of gin pomelo, and Joe's Meat Shack replacing manong's fishball cart. The only thing that remains the same is that, well, everything happens a little later here.

WorldMags.net

A favorite hangout of writers, artists and photographers since its early branches in Mabini, the new Bocobo Street address still attracts the same sort of drinks-loving bohemians and creative types (Krip Yuson still drops by once in a while with his own bottle). The musty, smoky and damp atmosphere of yore has been replaced, of course, by a scrubbedclean environment, but the bar is still a great place to have a few beers in, and the bar chow isn’t so bad. 1688-B Jorge Bocobo St., Malate. Tel. no. +63 2 516 7296

10PM

You can start having your hard drinks at The Bar@1951, because by this time you’re just about ready to turn things into a party. Bing Austria with his Flippin’ Soul Stompers play occasionally, and so does esteemed musician Noli Aurillo who we heard can bring some people to tears with his guitar riffs. But on the weekends, it’s bands like Cubanilla and the Makiling Ensemble that usually get the early-evening sitdown crowd standing up to dance. 1951 M. Adriatrico Street, Malate, Manila

12AM

Stretch your evening all the more with some singing, but don’t go to Music 21—you might as well have just gone to Quezon City. The Other Office in Mabini is the cooler choice because, hey, who gets to sing accompanied by a piano player these days? By this time, you’re just about uninhibited enough to belt out that Ol’ Blue Eyes number and you’ve had enough scotch to give your voice that aged, smoky timbre. 1130-CA. Mabini Street, Ermita, Manila City, 1000, Metro Manila. | Tel. no. 522 4085.

2AM

In Malate, everybody ends up in Café Adriatico for that one last glass of vodka tonic—while waiting, of course, for your recovery food: the kesong puti with pandesal is a great starter, followed by Lola Ising’s Adobo, or the Salpicao Rice. 1790 M. Adriatico Street, Remedios Circle, Malate, Manila. I Tel. no. 738-8220


E T A L A

WorldMags.net

M

9 O M E Z G E M J E RO 9  BY

A

NY TALK ABOUT MALATE will always come down to the parties in Nakpil Street in the '90s or Ernest Santiago's Coco Banana in the '80s. But since I've long sworn off pining for the good old days, the good old days (nothing dates you like a "they don't make them like they used to" speech, unless you're also wearing a longback shirt), I've resolved to take Malate for what it is today: sleazy for the most part, stinky in the side streets, strewn with Korean joints all over—and I try my hardest to salvage any remaining dust of glamour I can find and take everything with a shot of tequila. It was in Malate where I started going out (if you want an idea of how old I am, my drink of choice was Blue Ice). Evenings would start, or end, at the old Penguin where the Syquia bohemes would converge, and the CCP guys would hang out. On heady nights, the aroma of Peace Corp sweat would mingle gloriously with the joint's signature smell of pee and the sweet scent of pot escaping from the men's room. In the midst of all that dancing and multi-racial flirting, to the tune of hands banging bongos and Carol Bello's ethereal wailing, there was no other place in the world I wanted to be. But enough about the good old days, the good old days (I'm referencing Rico J, by the way, if you need another clue as to how old I am). I've waited too long to keep hanging on to the rhetoric that Malate is going to experience a revival. Nakpil has become beer-by-the-bucket central. And Penguin is over, in its place some establishment for the kimchi-loving crowd. But its spirit, or what's left of it, has moved on to Adriatico Street, rechristened Bar@1951, the @ being the establishment's effort at claiming its place in the moment. Artists still go there, writers; paintings by obscure artists still hang on the wall. It's two floors now, with a loft nobody uses, but the

white-haired maitre d' Joey still stands by the bar, a small assurance that some things indeed stay the same. On a slow night, a glass of scotch by my side, Rizal and Dali stare at me blankly from the wall. But I don't venture out to Malate on slow nights anymore. Time has become of utmost value for careerist me, so I craft my Malate evenings like a single mother listing her errands for the day. The nights of striking it out alone for that possibility of hooking up with a stranger have been replaced by bringing friends to make sure I don't end up staring at painted images of dead people for the the night. We start at 1335 Mabini, where the art, once the party gets going, becomes an added feature. Recently, I found myself with the Manila tour guide Carlos swaying like those giant inflatable mascots to the electronica musings of Goodleaf—and I think, this is so cool. And I am so cool. Which Manuel Ocampo would echo downstairs by the gorgeous deco railings, introducing me to his balikbayan friend from New York: "This is the coolest guy in Manila." And I smile back at the artist Pow Martinez's cherubic face and don't argue, because nobody argues with Manuel Ocampo (and nobody knows if he's just mocking you). By this time I've had one too many San Miguel Pales, my bottle constantly replenished from the two Mucho bottles brought in by this Fil-Am girl named Julia. Eventually, it’s time to head to Penguin—I mean, Bar@1951. Last time I was there someone asked me to dance the salsa. On another night I found myself in a bear party where a burly stranger unashamedly pinched my left nipple. I’d protest but this is Malate, and here its just one of our many versions of a handshake. The night of the art show, Bing Austria is about to start his second set when we arrive, and I ask for my tequila shot while the Pale from the gallery is still in my hand (carrying a drink from one joint to another is a Malate habit I’ve yet to outgrow). I leave my friends at the second floor and head downstairs to join a huddle dancing to Bing's cover of a Lou Reed classic. Later, I whisper "Dancing in the Street" to Bing and as soon as I hear its opening beat, it’s Penguin all over again, and I’m dancing like a mad woman—this time without the weed, the stench, the possibility of sex or love or romance. I was so happily drunk I forgot to settle my bill—which brings me to one more reason why I now bring friends to these things: so someone will remember to pick up the tab.

WorldMags.net

D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4 E S Q U I R E 167


WorldMags.net

STYLE TIP NO. 846 SEE THAT? THE CONTRASTING COLLAR ON THIS TRIM CHESTERFIELD COAT? A SURE SIGN OF A MAN WHO CAN CARRY THE WORLD ON HIS SHOULDERS AND THINK NOTHING OF IT. Wool-and-cashmere coat and two-button wool suit by Prada; cotton shirt by Burberry London.

168 E S Q U I R E D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4

WorldMags.net


ESQ. WorldMags.net STYLE

DEC - JAN ‘14

THE KILLER OVERCOAT, THE PERFECT SUIT, THE UNEXPECTED ACCENT: BENEDICT CUMBERBATCH (OF SHERLOCK, STAR TREK, AND SO MUCH MORE) SHOWS HOW ANY MAN CAN UP HIS STATURE WITH SOME WELL-CHOSEN CLOTHES PHOTOGRAPHS BY

JULIAN BROAD

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

STYLE TIP NO. 235

THE TURTLENECK IS A PARADOX: IT CLINGS AND CONCEALS, YET IT ALSO SHOWS THAT YOU HAVE NOTHING TO HIDE. SWAP IT IN FOR A STANDARDISSUE SHIRT AND LAYER UNDER A BLAZER FOR A COMBINATION THAT IS PURE MENACE. Two-button wool jacket and wool trousers by Giorgio Armani; cashmere-and-silk turtleneck sweater by Brunello Cucinelli; silk pocket square by Brooks Brothers.

170 E S Q U I R E D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

ESQ. STYLE DEC - JAN â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;14

WorldMags.net

Double-breasted wool coat by Dolce & Gabbana; two-button wool-blend suit by Rag & Bone; cotton shirt by Louis Vuitton; silk tie by Burberry London.


Double-breasted wool coat and cashmere turtleneck sweater by Ralph Lauren Purple Label; wool trousers by Polo Ralph Lauren; leather monk-straps by John Lobb.

WorldMags.net

172 E S Q U I R E D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

ESQ. STYLE DEC - JAN ‘14

STYLE TIP NO. 224

THE SHARP AND UNEXPECTED ANGLES OF A PEAK-LAPEL COLLAR WILL MAKE YOUR SHOULDERS LOOK BROADER AND YOUR POSTURE SEEM STRONGER. BUT WHO NEEDS THAT, RIGHT? One-button cotton-and-silk jacket, cotton shirt, and cashmere scarf by Ermenegildo Zegna.

WorldMags.net


ESQ. STYLE

WorldMags.net

DEC - JAN â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;14

Two-button wool-and-cashmere suit by Calvin Klein Collection; cotton shirt by Ermenegildo Zegna; silk tie by John Varvatos. PRODUCED BY ALLEGRA AMATI FOR 10-4INC. GROOMING BY DONALD MCINNES.

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net O THERE’S BENEDICT Cumberbatch, “stuck in a read-through with Meryl Streep, with Julia Roberts, with Ewan McGregor and Chris Cooper and Sam Shepard. There was John [Wells] at the helm and Tracy [Letts] at the other end, and George [Clooney] giggling his head off, and that’s when I kind of went: Fuck. This is actually happening.” Fuck is right. The TV show (Sherlock) on the BBC, soon to be in its third season; the five major movies in a single year; the growing legion of fans (mostly British, mostly women) who call themselves Cumberbitches: All came together in 2013 to transform this thirty-seven-year-old Englishman, with a name out of P. G. Wodehouse and a face out of a Picasso, into a movie star with nothing but good options. About those five movies: They range from studio tentpoles to serious Oscar bait, and Cumberbatch and his characters glide across space and time. The Oxbridge-accented sociopath who terrorizes the Federation in May’s Star Trek into Darkness couldn’t be more different from the Louisiana slave owner in 12 Years a Slave. His Julian Assange in the new WikiLeaks thriller, The Fifth Estate, all Outback sibilance and unchecked ego, is miles away from the pitiful papa’s boy in August: Osage County, the film adaptation of the every-award-winning play by Letts (directed by Wells, coproduced by Clooney, and costarring the above-mentioned readers). As for the dragon in The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug, he truly is in a league of his own. (Except if you count Andy Serkis’s famous transformation into Gollum for The Lord of the Rings series. Like Serkis, Cumberbatch supplies the voice, gestures, and movements of the character, with CGI wizards taking care of the rest.) Cumberbatch is not an actor who likes to talk about his craft or his art or his process; he actually doesn’t seem to like talking about acting at all. A question about his morally complex role in 12 Years prompts a long digression about the scourge of sweatshop labor. Star Trek prompts a discussion on the potential of nuclear fusion. Years seemingly pass as he describes the pleasures of the recent renovation of his London apartment. He is a generous, selfdeprecating, stem-winding storyteller, and it’s easy to picture him at that early table read, trading lines and sharing laughs and fitting right in with Julia and George and Meryl. Fuck. It’s actually happening.

WorldMags.net

D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4 E S Q U I R E 175


WorldMags.net PREVIOUSLY ON ESQUIRE...

OCTOBER 1966 B Y L U I S K AT I G B A K

W

hen it comes to magazines, it’s hard to over-

state the importance of creating or finding the right image, particularly when it comes to the cover. It must command attention and engage the imagination at a glance, while being consistent with the magazine’s concerns and particular point of view. Sometimes, however, the right image is made up entirely of words. Two years before the My Lai slaughter, Esquire ran a lengthy article by John Sack that followed an infantry company from basic training to actual combat. This was the cover that George Lois came up with—a quote from an account of a search-and-destroy mission that “screamed to the world that

176 E S Q U I R E D E C - J A N 2 0 1 4

something was wrong, terribly wrong.” We asked graphic designer Isabel Gatuslao, who is more passionate and knowledgeable about typefaces and their effective deployment than pretty much anyone you’re ever likely to meet, for her thoughts on this classic—and still shocking—alltext Esquire cover. “George Lois wanted America to pay more attention to the war going on in Vietnam at that time. Contrast is the basic design rule to get anyone’s attention. An all-black background with white type; the soldier’s quote about killing a little girl set in that elegant transitional typeface; and not having a photograph on the cover in a sea of magazines on the stands: It worked perfectly.”

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

WorldMags.net


WorldMags.net

WorldMags.net


[菲律宾版]esquire 2013年12月刊 shangzazhi com