July 12, 2010 / E-5
Text by Johnina Martha Marfa
His story begins with a kind of transformation, the sort which happens after a crucial choice, in multiple occasions, one after the other, affirming and defining. But this is not the kind a viewer witnesses easily, because it does not involve physical motion. It demands more—a little brawn, perhaps, but definitely some brains—because it is not mere change wrought by some accidental chance. In Juan Sajid Imao’s story, transformation is trans-formation, one that goes beyond the limits of the structure—the sculpture—and taps not only matters of the physical, but also the recesses of the intellectual, psychological, emotional.
“A sculpture is not only a carved piece,” says Sajid, “it tells a story and it has a history.” Indeed, history has always been part of Juan Sajid Imao’s sculptures, whether cast or carved. In his three-dimensional versions, however, Sajid takes history and translates it into a form more accessible to the visual Filipino. “Sculpting isn’t just about carving or etching,” explains Sajid. “It also involves interaction with the people you work with and the viewers who see the work. That way it becomes almost a product of conversation and cooperation that will hopefully become landmarks in time.” Juan Sajid Imao creates sculptures that are open-ended; they invite their viewers to create their own stories while giving them back their sense of heritage through corporal history.
Getting this done took some time though, since his father, National Artist Abdulmari Imao, didn’t quite encourage his pursuit of art. “He was just concerned,” recalls Sajid, “I think he wanted me to have a different life.” Eventually, despite his slight uncertainty, he decided to pursue his passion, finding himself greatly influenced by two major figures: National Artist Nicanor Abueva, for his spontaneity and his instant interaction with the medium; and his own father, Abdulmari. “Kahit gusto kong kumawala sa shadow niya, very evident ‘yung influence niya, especially in terms of design,” he shares. “Although maganda trabaho ng tatay ko, conscious ako na hindi ko ‘yun pwedeng gayahin. The influence is there, but there is always modification, innovation.”
It is perhaps Sajid’s recognition of his own artistic heritage that fuels his creations. His sculptures, regardless of media, inspire a sense of stillness, where strength is always tempered with tenderness. The viewer is invited to look at his sculpture and remember home, recalling and re-citing his/her own stories and relating them to it. Conversation, whether with another person, with one’s self or with an art piece, fans the embers of creation, and this is exactly what Sajid’s sculptures create. Consider: Episodes of shared memory, both historical and fictive, leak in as the viewer’s recollections begin, the eyes trailing the curves of the sculpture and the mind traveling to faraway places and periods known and otherwise to the viewer.
Suddenly s/he comes back, putting the body, the mind and everything else firmly back into place, including a renewed sense of home and history. Realizing what has taken place, the viewer gazes at the art piece again, acknowledges the conversation, and walks away a changed person. It should be noted that this is only a single possibility of experience, one that Sajid may have sought to capture in sculpting faces.
“Masaya ako kapag gumagawa ako ng mukha,” he shares. “Ano ang proseso ng paggawa ko ng mukha? Kinakausap ko ‘yung tao, tapos kinakausap ko ‘yung ginagawa ko para makita ko kung magkamukha na.” Conversations, then, become a venue for Sajid to transfer and transform a certain energy from the person to the created figure, as well as his own in both. “I do believe in energy,” explains Sajid, “and I believe that if there is energy floating around items or people, I would be able to absorb that, and it responds to me in a way that it transforms when I carve sculptures right.”
Does the same thing happen then, when it concerns major figures in Philippines history? Maybe, although the conversations are done differently. “I do research,” Sajid says. “I enjoy reading history, but I employ it in my sculptures. When I was just starting, I would do library research on something that interests me, and then I would make a proposal so I can start on it.” This research he translates into works of metal, clay and fiberglass, his favorite among which is brass. “I like brass,” he shares, “it’s sturdy and it’s generally friendly for sculpting.” Like brass, Sajid’s works reflect his strength of character, perhaps as well as that of a heritage authentically Philippine.
“Artists should help in preserving Philippine history,” explains Sajid, “and I [would like to] think I’m doing that through my sculptures.” For Sajid Imao, the artist is an instrument of time by creating chronological markers that show the sensibilities of a generation of a certain period. “Pinapakita ng gawa ko na ganito mag-isip ang generation ko, ganito ang sensibility ng generation ko,” he continues. “It can be a reference to future generations, just as the art before us is a reference to us.”
All things considered, however, Sajid Imao admits that art is ultimately an expression. “My art is my diary, parang autobiography,” he confesses. “I don’t want to say anything else, kasi may mga nagsabi na nu’n. So many things have already been said about art, and I would only be quoting someone else if I said something else. A piece of art is, at the end of the day, the artist’s expression of his personal experiences.” In the process of creation, the potential viewer’s various story formations for the sculptures seem secondary; what matters are the artist’s perpetually trans-forming visions and the creations that they produce.
Although his story begins a kind of transformation, it doesn’t quite end with a completed change. Juan Sajid Imao’s art and visions continue trans-forming, translating histories personal and communal, presenting themselves in sculptures and monuments, large and small, for their viewers’ recollections and individual trans-formations.
Juan Sajid Imao’s solo exhibit “Open Endings” runs until July 18, 2010, at the Net Quad Building in Bonifacio Global City, Taguig City.
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