Cian Dayrit’s interdisciplinary practice explores the intersecting narratives of the Philippines’ complex past and present realities. Engaging ethnography, archaeology, history, and mythology, Dayrit’s works often examine the consequences of colonialism, exploring how it has shaped and continues to shape societies, identities, and power dynamics.
His third exhibition with NOME, entitled Schemes of Belligerence, delves into the historical narratives of colonization, reflecting on the lasting influence of military conquests and the subsequent militarization of the Philippines. By referencing symbols, imagery, and narratives associated with the military, Dayrit provokes discussions about the complexities of national identity and the struggles for self-determination in a post-colonial context. The exhibition’s title work takes the form of a multipart installation comprising embroidered quilts and sculptures that, as curator Natasha Ginwala notes, plot “sequences of masculine valor that reckons with schemes of torture, the centuries-long trap of indebtedness, and martial culture in neocolonies. “ The mixed media work Imperial Puppet Regalia reflects on the collective experiences of militarism as experienced within the broader context of Southeast Asia. Richly embroidered tapestries, finely wrought wooden marionettes depicting military figures, and various forms of regalia and insignia delineate patterns of imperialism and militarism as they intersect with contemporary issues such as military lockdowns related to Covid19, activist crackdowns, the killings of peasant and indigenous leaders, journalists, lawyers, and rights defenders, as well as the appointment of military officials to government positions.
Although rooted in narratives related to Southeast Asia, Schemes of Belligerence reflects more broadly on the proliferation of fascist regimes and the cultures and norms such regimes inflict on people. Dayrit excavates and recuperates these stories of struggle and resistance in this exhibition to challenge dominant perspectives of power and space. As he explains in an interview, “between visualizing and exorcising is an elaborate process of awakening into, enduring, and participating in a struggle that is way bigger than an individual experience. One’s own sensibilities and contradictions are not enough to comprehensively understand, let alone translate, the encompassing effects of systemic historical oppression. One must develop a deeper connection to human experiences and recognize the material conditions that dictate these narratives. Only in solidarity with the struggles of the people can we truly translate, at least, dynamics of exploitation.”
Wrought from War
For three years before the Covid-19 pandemic, Philippine artist Cian Dayrit quietly wove the conduct of mapping workshops into his process of socially-engaged art practice. Visiting communities across different sites of struggle, plotting out and connecting stories of indigenous peoples, farmers, youth, and urban poor settlers on the ground was a means of learning from and giving back to a larger body politic. One recurring reality stood out across these diverse encounters: the impact and breadth of militarism across the archipelago, imprinted on individual memories and lives.
Schemes of Belligerence threads through Dayrit’s installations made since the global and national lockdowns of 2020. This forced pause, affording more space for tying together the experience of mapping trauma with critiques of state-led violence and right-wing militarism across the Asia-Pacific region, yielded a series of works spread across two biennales (Gwangju, 2020 and Bangkok, 2022) to the present. The exhibition brings together his collaborative tapestries and explorations into appropriating regalia and realia associated with the state’s armed forces.
The exhibition reimagines practices that enable the visibility of empire. The politics and power dynamics of mapping is certainly not lost on this artist, who is astutely aware of how the very history of colonialism and imperialism is premised on, and expands from, the act of accounting for territories, things, and people. Dayrit delves into the visual and material culture of such ethnographic displays, transforming the format of colonial archives and war trophies themselves into a form of counter-mapping and dissenting gestures from below.
The wooden objects made with Paete carver Felman Baglaso reference both Spanish colonial-era genre sculpture tipos del pais (types of the country) to model military figures, and their accompanying weaponry (such as rattan canes) for defense but more often, assault. The realia and regalia of modern military dress, appropriated and fashioned from surplus, is set against the straw salakot hat often associated with the rural class.
The quilt assemblages and collaborative tapestries re-frame ethnographic displays and textiles as a spatial repository of collective trauma and transnational violence. Stitched and sculpted, these depart from traditional motifs and embellishments celebrating the archipelago’s natural wealth, such as abaca, which is used for naval cordage worldwide. Instead these remind us of how flora, fauna, and native bodies are co- opted into an increasingly export-oriented and cash crop economy and neocolonial control over territories. The photograph-based works, referencing colonial archives, center on the figure of the native soldier and foreign troops, juxtaposing histories of puppetry, mercenary affinity, and masculinity.
In this overlay of practices, Dayrit offers a rethinking of how militarism is codified in mundane objects, bodies, and memories. By superimposing codes wrought from the trauma of war, Dayrit directly exposes the US’ role in military interventionism and totalitarianism across Southeast Asia and offers a moment of counter-coding against imperialism within and beyond the region.
Lisa Ito