Powerful Photo Series Honors Indigenous People of the Philippines
Francis Gum captures the Parangal dancers sweeping across his lens. As they move, each turn of the wrist, every slight step echoes a memory. In one photo, as a dancer lifts his arms towards the sky, he tells the story of the Kalinga people, an Indigenous community in the Philippines. Soaring across the stage, his body speaks of eagles flying over fertile rice terraces, green and as precious as emeralds. In another photo, a woman traces the air with long golden fingernails; as her silk robes twist and shimmer in the light, her body embraces the strength and power of Maguindanaon royalty.
A Los Angeles photographer, Gum’s photos document the work of the Parangal Dance Company, a troupe based in San Francisco that has been preserving the traditions and history of the Indigenous Peoples in the Philippines since 2008. It is a difficult task, as traditions of different Indigenous groups are at risk of disappearing as violent fights over ancestral land are pushing their communities even further into the fringes. Yet, every two years, a small group of Parangal volunteers travel to the valleys shrouded by mountains in the northern Philippines and the thick rainforests south of the country to learn the rituals and stories of Indigenous communities. The process is slow and purposeful as Indigenous culture bearers teach Parangal dancers the meaning of every ritual, song and word, passing down centuries of history. In turn, the troupe continues their oral histories through dance, sharing the stories of the Indigenous Peoples of the Philippines on stages across the world, from North Carolina to Japan, in hopes of inspiring the next generation.
The photo series depicts the rituals and ceremonies of six Indigenous Peoples: Kalinga, Yakan, Tboli, Subanen, Maguindanaon and Bagobo. Gum hopes that the photos provide a narrative often missing from Filipino identity — a story that began long before the Spanish and US set foot on the vast archipelago.
Gum, who grew up in Nueva Vizcaya — a northern province in the Philippines — and moved to the US when he was 20 years old, wants his work to help Filipino Americans and Filipinos back home connect with their pre-colonial history. “I’m an immigrant,” says Gum. “It’s important that you know your core.”
Marlon Dumlao, Parangal’s Director of Operations, says that the Indigenous communities they work with have a unifying goal: “Just tell people we exist. That we’re here.”
You’re not rich inside unless you know who you are.Bernie Bernardo, gallery owner, LA Art Box
Today, after a two-year hiatus from the pandemic, the Parangal dancers are back in-person. Their collaboration with Gum headlines “Belonging: A Filipino American Arts and Culture Experience,” a powerhouse exhibit on view until June 26 at the LA Art Box (LAAB) — Melrose Avenue’s first Filipino and female-owned gallery run by Bernie Bernardo. The gallery was inspired by Bernardo’s son, who she quarantined with in Los Angeles during the pandemic.
“We had a lot of reflective conversations about who we are because of what we were seeing in the media at the time,” says Bernardo. “My son was 18 at the time, and he said, ‘Mama, I don’t even know how to begin or to feel Filipino.’ And I wondered how many other kids felt that way — lost about their cultural identities.”
Emboldened by the need to create a safe space where Black and Brown communities could explore their identities, Bernardo left her eight-year post as West Coast Marketing Director for MAC Cosmetics. Together with Dumlao, Bernardo opened the doors of LAAB in 2021.
When contemplating the Filipino American experience, Bernardo offers her signature red-lipped smile and says, “You’re not rich inside unless you know who you are.”
While European lineage makes up a small partof Filipino ancestry, ties to Spanish and American culture dominate Filipino history. Yet the beautiful truth is: The majority of Filipinos are descendents of those native to the islands and Austronesian descendants who began settling there 5,000 years ago from Indonesia, Taiwan and Malaysia.
The exhibit hopes to understand this complex and living story of Indigenous communities. In addition to the photography series by Gum, LAAB also showcases select pieces of traditional attire from the six groups. Those visiting the gallery are invited to learn more about the individual pieces — intricate works of embroidery and weaving that were purchased from the Indigenous communities and flown in from the Philippines.
When walking through the exhibit with Dumlao and fellow troupe member, Major Julian, we pause at a Maguindanaon warrior bearing a layered, intricate headpiece. Julian explains how the attire is part of Sagayan, an ancient dance that predates Islam and Christianity, and is worn by a patotonong leading a ritual called ipat. During this ritual, an ancestral spirit communicates through the patotonong, and through this process, a collective healing takes place.
“It’s everyone together, looking at the will to heal,” explains Dumlao.
Long term, the Parangal members hope to pass on the traditions of Indigenous Peoples to the next generation. “When I think about identity, I think about what belonging is,” says Dumlao. “Embracing who you are as an individual doesn’t define us, but it is an aspect that unites us.”
Bernardo hopes that through LAAB and creators like Gum and the Parangal dancers, the gallery can continue to tell Filipino stories that celebrate our rich and dynamic past, present and future. Before I leave the gallery, Bernardo reminds me: “If we don’t tell our stories, who will?”
