ITAGA MO SA BATO

Chalk Zaldivar

July 24 – August 21 , 2021

Modeka Art | The Glassbox
20A La Fuerza Plaza 1, 2241 Don Chino Roces Avenue, 1231 Makati

⁠”Itaga Mo Sa Bato” is an idiom; its closest English translation “mark my words” refers to a promise that cannot be broken or a statement that is final. Chalk Zaldivar employs visual pun with the most final signifier of all: the gravestone. He inscribed sardonic witticisms onto marble slabs that mimic grave markers, which at first glance imply a degree of solemnity. Upon closer inspection and reading of the engraved texts, cheeky and biting satire presents itself, a classic comic relief device of Zaldivar.

His works often draw from pop cultural references of his generation, specifically contemporary Filipino colloquial phrases and trivial practices.

“I’m so conyo amputa” and “Lahat ng naka-Fortuner kupal” are some examples; part-impish, part scathing, they are populist statements that break the ice of pretention often assigned to the art industry. “Pag lumindol, post ko yan” and “Yung ugali ko galing Twitter”, both post-internet humor that pokes fun at stereotypes associated with elitism, vanity and our self-obsessed social media culture.

Humor is inherently transgressive because it notices the breaks in social codes. According to Freudian psychoanalysis, humor allows us to reconcile opposites: lightness in the face of grim reality. Filipino social dynamics balance these opposites naturally. The religious custom of visiting cemeteries on All Souls Day is actually a family reunion picnic at the memorial parks. Instead of tears and mourning, more evident are children running about, adults feasting and playing card games, loud music with singing or dancing, much like Sunday gatherings or special occasions.

Zaldivar’s fondness for irony and contradiction plays out with the same unsettling imagery that sets the stage for bold, mischievous jabs at familiar characters. His contemporary, the artist Joan Cornelia, believes that we all laugh at misery, and it can be enlightening to examine the source of that humor.

In the tradition of editorial cartoonists, who illustrate their critique on social and political observations, Zaldivar engages his audience by acknowledging certain truths without taking them too seriously.

His brand of dark humor is immediately relatable, as it captures snapshots of banal and absurd situations from the street and from his peers. The disorienting sight of tombstones at odds with its text is closer to the truth than we expect. Zaldivar’s paradoxical visual sallies take us by surprise, and before even realizing it, we find ourselves becoming more self-aware, pondering the social issues that he satirizes.

Words by Stephanie Frondoso