HERZOG, KIDLAT AND ENRIQUE MARTY HAVE A COSMIC ENCOUNTER

Kidlat Tahimik never arrives without a story, or a series of props. For his participation in "Wolves at the Door. Cosmic Encounters," a "proposal" by Salamanca, Spain artist Enrique Marty made specifically for the Instituto Cervantes de Manila, the National Artist arrives in native Igorot garb, brandishing a tiny metal movie camera, as well as a bamboo one (his own invention), and later a carved statuette of Jose Rizal wearing a loincloth. The theme of "indio-genius" is thick in the air.

- SCOTT GARCEAU

Animations and watercolor storyboards by Marty (who couldn't attend the Manila opening, but was at Ateneo Gallery last August to present his recent exhibit, "Project Belonging: From There to Here") surround us, as does Tahimik, who doesn't have to try hard to put his imprint on things: he even appears in Marty's art, popping up as a shaman character in one of his short video-essays from a long-germinating series entitled "All your world is pointless."

The screened episode, titled "Wolves at the Door," involves German teenager Kaspar Hauser, who appeared in a public square in Nuremberg in 1828, unable or unwilling to speak or stand. He was "adopted" by the town, and later, adopted by German director Werner Herzog as the titular character for 1974's The Enigma of Kaspar Hauser - which featured, by some quirk of fate or coincidence, a young Kidlat Tahimik in his first acting role.

On the other side of the room is a screen running "Cosmic Encounters," an excerpt from a video conversation between Spain-based architect Kristine Guzman, Marty and Tahimik done at his Baguio studio in August 2024. In it, we see how their work interconnects, almost coincidentally. (There's a QR code you can scan to view the full 30-minute video.)

Marty's work exorcises a disquieting otherness, whether it's quick-painted studies of family Polaroids in domestic settings, or implied violence, or exhibits focused on circus sideshow freaks. ("Enrique is always trying to turn the tables," notes Guzman, "questioning, who is looking at whom? Like in a zoo: you're looking at the animals, but they're also looking at you.") The work also reflects a way of exorcising a troubled family history.