university of the philippines

Finally, the Carlos Palanca Memorial Award for Literature contest rules and forms for 2012 are up on their website!

The posting of rules and forms was delayed this year and it was getting worrisome, more so since the topic for the Kabataan Essay/Sanaysay category had not been announced.

As it is, the young writers have two months less a week to go to write their entries.

This year is not a novel year, but 2013 is, so don’t forget to start writing or polishing your manuscripts for that.

The University of the Philippines College of Arts and Letters has issued a call for submissions to their Likhaan literary journal’s sixth edition. The deadline is March 30. They accept short stories, essays, poetry, CNF, and graphic shorts and excerpts of graphic novels.

 CPMA logo here, Likhaan journals image here.

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The University of the Philippines-Diliman College of Arts and Letters hosts a gathering called Writers’ Night every December for professors, students, booksellers, sellers of other things, the general public, and writers. Last year (2010) it was held on December 10, the week before Lantern Parade, and it was well-attended.

I took my eldest daughter Alex and her friend JM along with me that day. They are students at De La Salle University. It was JM’s first trip to UP. He suffered profound culture shock, first of all with the size of the campus. Next, with my matter-of-fact statement that anyone could say anything to anyone at anytime, even in class, to a professor. He said, “You mean you can give your actual opinion to your teacher and she won’t get mad?” I told him, that is the gift of UP to its students – the license, the encouragement, to think free – something almost impossible at a school with a religious or other agenda. He was suitably impressed.

We had lunch, then off I went to a creative writing class with Dr Jing Hidalgo. While I was in class, the two went exploring.

We had dinner after – I took them to that old standby at UP Shopping Center, Rodic’s, where we ate off metal plates. Then to Writers’ Night, held at the rooftop of the Asian Center’s Hall of Wisdom, which we kept calling (by mistake) the “Hall of Justice”.

Typical Rodic’s meals of rice-and: spamsilog, bacon-si-log, long-si-log – with side of itlog na maalat  at kamatis.

The pictures I took that day are soft and fuzzy, kind of how I feel about UP itself – the present experiences of my PhD days mixed with the nostalgic memories of my undergrad years, like photographs superimposed upon each other, merging, blurring, almost becoming one.

The facade of AS (Arts and Sciences building), properly called Palma Hall. All general subjects are taken here, so everyone from UP Diliman passes AS in their early years.

The campus has always been green. I am glad that this is so.

The Sunken Garden, with its soccer goals.

That’s the College of Business Administration. It’s across the Sunken Garden. Fabric in the school colors binds a tree.

At the 2010 UP Writers Night. Tents and chairs on the rooftop, with food and books and singing.

The elderly gentleman with his back to the camera is National Artist for Literature Dr. Bienvenido Lumbera.

Me, in the center, with my hands on Alex’s shoulders. With us are my classmates, writers Triccie Obligacion, Vivien Labastilla, and Hammed Bolotaolo.

With a former classmate,  writer Carljoe Javier (“The Kobayashi Maru of Love”).

At the back are professor J. Neil Garcia and writers Doy Petralba and Hammed; front, a couple of friends, me, and writers Jenette Vizcocho, Triccie, and Vivien.

After the event, I took the kids to my college – the UP College of Mass Communication. The giant iPod on a cart was our college’s entry in the annual Christmas Lantern Parade. It was a wonderful moment for me – seeing my daughter and her friend, both college students themselves, in front of the steps I sat on when I was an undergrad myself. I didn’t think, back then, that I’d be seeing this in a couple of decades.

A closer look at the college’s float. The front of the “iPod” is woven from strips of magazine pages. I heartily concur with and support the sentiment displayed on it.

I will most likely be attending this year’s UP Writers Night – it’s the usual reunion date for past fellows and panelists of the UP National Writers Workshop, and it’s also the launching of Likhaan 5, the UP-CAL journal. My essay “The Turn for Home: Memories of Santa Ana Park” has been included in it, and I look forward to receiving my copy.

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The University of the Philippines. It is in a league of its own. It is a state learning institution, secular, free-thinking, and liberal-oriented. Many of the country’s leaders have come from UP – those who have led it to shame, and those who have led it to honor.

Yet still it stands, and still produces leaders and workers and servants and artists and intellectuals and lawyers and writers and sportsmen and all those in between.

It doesn’t have the gung-ho “school spirit” hype that other universities have – no indoctrination, no elaborate and drawn-out teaching of hymns and school cheers. You take the UPCAT (UP College Admission Test), you pass, you show up for orientation on the first day of school, and that’s it.

You will not be spoon-fed with information or be told what to do. At UP, you find things out for yourself. You might get lost a couple of times and come in late to class as a consequence; you might miss a homework assignment or two because you didn’t know where to find this or that obscure reading on the list; but you will learn things on your own. You are expected to.

Your professors will not baby-sit you. They will not pander to your enshrined beliefs, inculcated in you from babyhood in whatever sphere you come from. Instead they will shake you up and spin you around and turn you about and they will open to you new worlds you never even knew existed. They will teach you facts, yes, but more importantly, they will teach you how to think, and how to think free.

You are supposed to learn how to be independent and self-sufficient, to work and study and create with the barest minimum of resources that you have to scrounge from here and there. You are supposed to make do or do without, or refuse to do without and to somehow find the wherewithal to do it.

You are expected to do the impossible and do it brilliantly.

And because of your UP education, wherever on this planet you may find yourself in the future, you will be able to produce what is required of you with nothing but spit and string and a bent safety pin – and by the deadline.

This is something few others can do. UP will confer this ability upon you, and you will not know or understand whence it comes. It just will, if you stay long enough, and if you open your mind and heart and soul. And that is the angas of UP, the confidence in one’s intelligence and ability that translates into work and action.

This shirt is by Diliman Republic and is available at the UP-Diliman Shopping Center.  Yes, I have one.

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POP GOES THE WORLD By Jenny Ortuoste for Manila Standard-Today, 2 September 2010, Thursday

Common Sense Isn’t All That Common

You groaned – I heard you. I’m not surprised – we’ve heard that hoary old aphorism many times before, and can cite horrifying instances from experience to prove its veracity. Thinking people often bemoan how crooked reasoning has supplanted logic and common sense, which have gone the way of either eight-track tapes (unused), steak tartare (very rare), or Jose Rizal (dead).

While not confined to those in government service, the dearth of critical thinking skills in that sector provide many jaw-dropping examples that, sadly, impact upon public interest. Here’s one incident that will make you indignant at how our tax pesos are spent, as recounted by University of the Philippines-Diliman professor emeritus Dr. Cristina Pantoja-Hidalgo:

“From February 2005 to May 2010, I was vice president for public affairs of the UP System, serving under UP president Emerlinda R. Roman. Under me were the Information Office, the Office of Alumni Relations of the UP System, and the Gurong Pahinungod.

“Because UP was preparing for the celebrations of its Centennial in 2008, our work load—heavy at best—became considerably heavier. A slew of other tasks was added to the regular responsibilities of running three newspapers, maintaining the UP System website, producing regular magazine-sized reports, writing and sending out regular media announcements, providing support for the Office of the President during the annual presentation of the UP Budget to Congress and the campaign in Congress for the approval of the new UP Charter, and providing communications support for the offices of the other vice presidents.

“Among these additional responsibilities were President Roman’s alumni caravan, which took us around the country to involve UP alumni in the celebration and in the fund-raising campaign; and several special projects—a coffee table book, another book called Kwentong Peyups, a short documentary film, a UP history book project, supplements for the print media, and several Centennial contests (for the Centennial logo, the Centennial literary award, the Centennial song, the Centennial short film, etc.).

“My Assistant VPs and I worked long hours, including weekends, and out-of-town trips. Throughout this period, I continued to teach graduate courses–sometimes one, sometimes two, each semester.

Dr. Hidalgo (with graduate student and author April Yap) teaching a master’s/PhD creative writing class at UP on her birthday last month. (Photo by Camille de la Rosa)

“On one such weekend in June 2006, Lydia Arcellana (AVP and Director of the Office of Alumni Relations) and I had a lunch meeting with a group of UP alumni at Dulcinea, a restaurant on Tomas Morato.

“On 14 September 2006, UP received a subpoena from the “Task Force O-Plan Red Plate” of the Office of the Ombudsman, directing it to submit my driver’s trip tickets “and all other appurtenant and relative documents authorizing the use of government vehicle (assigned to my office) for the period 13-28 June 2006.” It contained the ominous threat that failure to do so within three days of receipt would “merit the filing of criminal charges” as well as administrative charges.”

The document, says Dr. Hidalgo, did not state what these “charges” were. Then-UP vice president for Legal Affairs and now UP Law School dean Atty. Marvic Leonen submitted the trip tickets and detailed the nature of Dr. Hidalgo’s job. Nothing more was heard from the Ombudsman, and they assumed the explanation and documents were satisfactory.

Four years later, on 12 July 2010, the Office of the Ombudsman wrote claiming that on 25 June 2006, the car assigned to Dr. Hidalgo was seen “in front of Tonton Thai Massage on Tomas Morato Street at 3:30 pm.”

Says Dr. Hidalgo, “The strange thing is that the accompanying photos…showed the car to be parked in front of—not the massage establishment named—but the restaurant Dulcinea with the sign above its entrance prominently shown.”

On this flimsy basis, the professor’s “…driver and I were being investigated for graft, and for “dishonesty, grave misconduct, and conduct prejudicial to the best interest of the service,” having caused “undue injury to the government, consisting in (sic) the unnecessary consumption of fuel and undue wear and tear of the vehicle…a flagrant wastage of government funds,” that showed “utter disregard on (sic) the policy that public officers and employees should uphold public interest over and above personal interest.”

Dr. Hidalgo, a published author well-known in literary and higher education circles, retired as a full-time UP professor and VP for Public Affairs last May. I met her for the first time in June when I signed up for her Creative Non-Fiction writing class this semester.

She describes herself as “an elderly academic” possessing an “impeccable record of 20 years of public service and numerous awards, for both my teaching and my writing. The latest is the title Professor Emeritus, surely one of the highest honors UP can confer on one of its own.”

On August 9, Dr. Hidalgo received another ‘order’ concerning the “administrative case” against her, and she complied by sending more affidavits with the same facts she had already mentioned before.

“I feel most aggrieved,” she says. “Given the countless cases of blatant graft and corruption involving billions of pesos, which seem to be resolutely ignored, why am I being singled out for this harassment by the Office of the Ombudsman?”

Now what is graft? It is “money, property, or a favor given, offered, or promised to a person or accepted by a person in a position of trust as an inducement to dishonest behavior: bribe, fix, payola.”Attending a meeting with alumni on a working weekend to raise funds for the state university is now graft?

Not only does the Office of the Ombudsman need to buy themselves a dictionary and hire a writer with a good grasp of grammar, they also got their facts wrong as to time, place, and purpose. Dr. Hidalgo says, “As indicated in the trip ticket earlier submitted, we had left Dulcinea at 1:30 pm.” How could they have still been seen in the area at 3:30pm, as alleged? The people who took photographs of the car did not check inside the establishments in the area to see where the passengers and driver of the car really were. Where is the proof that Dr. Hidalgo and company were actually inside Tonton Massage?

What I also found beyond strange is that it took the Office of the Ombudsman four entire years to process this. Dissertations have been written in less time.

The thinking mind reels in disbelief at how much time, manpower, paper, ink, and other resources were poured into this one solitary incident. Rather than going after the large sharks who have gorged themselves with money and perks at government and taxpayers’ expense, as splashed in recent headlines, the Office of the Ombudsman is flagrantly wasting government funds and resources to hound, with a nuisance non-case based on erroneous facts, a little old lady schoolteacher who rode a red-plate car one working Sunday afternoon.

Why is Dr. Hidalgo being singled out for this unwarranted attention? Makes you wonder if she gave someone a grade they weren’t happy with when they were in college. Is that what this is all about? Because, as common sense will tell you, this is not what the public is paying the Office of the Ombudsman to do. ***

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POP GOES THE WORLD By Jenny Ortuoste for Manila Standard-Today, 19 August 2010, Thursday

“Orosman at Zafira” and Divorce

For its 35^th season, the Dulaang UP of the University of the Philippines is putting on a series of productions kicking off with Francisco Baltazar’s “Orosman at Zafira”, running up to August 29 at the Wilfrido Ma. Guerrero Theater at UP-Diliman’s Palma Hall.

For those who remember having to slog through Baltazar’s epic poem “Florante at Laura” in high school, “Orosman” is the same in flavor; the dialogue is heavy reading in archaic Tagalog and hard to follow, although the narrative, as brought to life by cast members, can be comprehended from the talented and excellent performances.

Reed screens decorate the set and are moved around to create spaces, emphasize separation, and otherwise indicate location. At the beginning, the title of the play is cast upon the screens in light, which fades and shifts to a rainbow of coruscating lights.

Suddenly a woman’s low, husky tones ululate in distinctly Filipino cadences, followed by the doom-doom beat of tribal drums. At those sounds, something primal surges within, a call of the race deep within the blood that hearkens to the rhythm of forebears as the reed screens separate to reveal the singer/narrator, Zelima (played superbly by Tao Aves), clad in flowing robes, mourning the deluge that has overwhelmed their land: “Sa aming bayan, dilubyo sa aming bayan. Tatlong pacha, isang kahariang mahal; nagalit ba ang dakilang Allah, at nangyari na ang dapat na mangyari?”

Then unfolds the story of power and wealth, love and sorrow, life and death, played out in dance and song and words. The women of Baltazar’s “Orosman” are powerful: Tasy  Garrucha enchants as Zafira, princess of the Marueccos tribe, while Jean Judith Javier’s Gulnara, the beloved of Sultan Mahamud, Zafira’s father, convincingly portrays a complicated love. Both turn warrior upon the assassination of the sultan; do not be misled by the flowing gowns and the soft voices; the dulcet tones turn harsh with anger, the gowns stripped to reveal men’s clothing while staves and other weapons are waved at the moment of battle.

As the drama unfolded, I realized that the spirit of warrior women still lives in Filipinas today. Infidelity is endemic in our culture and is cause for much heartbreak in relationships. Our laws are biased towards men, who can only be charged with concubinage upon submission of proof that they have set up a household with a woman not their wife. Women, on the other hand, only have to fail once and be caught in a tryst with their lover to be charged with infidelity. Is that fair?

There are also no strict safeguards for battered women and children, despite the Violence Against Women and Children law which was only passed a few years ago. What recourse is there for Filipino women in the present day to escape from the trap of loveless marriages scarred by infidelity and violence, the wife-beating husband in the arms of another woman, often providing no support for the children?

House Bill 1799 is one such solution. Called the “Divorce Law” and proposed by women lawmakers who are among our modern warrior women, it provides a better option than the costly and lengthy annulment that is the only means at the present for unhappily married Filipinas to be emancipated.

Have you noticed how the proponents and supporters of the bill are women and progressive men, while its opponents are traditionalist men? The reactionary male lawmakers and their like-minded fellows who seek to keep women entrapped at their convenience are selfish and fail to take into account the feelings of the women who yearn for freedom and the chance to start life anew, perhaps find a man who will truly love and cherish them. Why can’t they let go?

These hidebound fogies see women as property, theirs to bind and loose at their whim, blind to the rights of women to live their own lives as they see fit, while they engage in affairs left and right. That is not fair or moral or right. If a marriage is not working, for whatever reason, why not accept that fact and take steps to set both parties free to start anew? That is better than for unhappy couples to stay together for the sake of appearance – that is hypocrisy.

Baltazar’s women took matters into their own hands when it came to love and war. Today’s women need to keep to the law of modern society; wielding swords and bows are not an option. Yet Filipinas are not without weapons – we have our brains to think and our bodies to act to support a law that is long overdue and that will give women that which are our rights and should not be withheld by those who wish to retain their power over half of the population.

As examples of strong and loving women, Zafira and Gulnara are inspirations. Some of the other cast members include Jay Gonzaga (Orosman), Kevin Concepcion (Aldervesin), Roeder Camañag (Boulasem), Acey Aguilar (Zelim), Neil Ericson Tolentino (Mahamud), and veteran Ronnie Martinez as Ben-Asar, Mahamud’s vizier. Directed by Dexter Santos with original music by Carol Bello, “Orosman at Zafira” is a must-see. Call Dulaang UP at 926-1349 for tickets and playdates. ***

Photos from Prof. Amy Bersalona of the UP-Diliman College of Arts and Letters/Dulaang UP.

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School time rolled around again, and it was time for the lazy writer to get out of her comfy swivel chair-that-is-used-only-for writing, and go to school to enroll. The happy feet were thrilled at the chance to go for a walk, more so when the lazy writer slipped them into the wooden Happy Feet sandals that went clip-clop whenever they took a step.

The school was a university in a huge campus filled with green trees and plants. The lazy writer loved trees, and the happy feet loved walking along the paved paths. First they walked past the building at the top of the main drive. In front of the building was a famous statue called the Oblation.

The Oblation was the statue of a young man who stood with his arms outstretched and his face lifted to the sky. The happy feet felt sorry for him. Not only was he naked, exposed to wind, rain, and sun,  his feet were rooted to his pedestal and he could not walk anywhere. Clip-clop, went the happy feet past the steadfast-at-his-post Oblation.

The happy feet next walked past a stand of banners in front of the lazy writer’s college.

It was  a sunny day. The happy feet were warm and toasty in the sunshine.

The happy feet had a long, long way to go to the next college, but they didn’t mind taking one step after another on the paving stones that were the colors of the lazy writer’s school. Clip-clop, went the happy feet along the maroon-and-green path.

The next college was a long way off, so very long! that the happy feet soon felt tired. The lazy writer sat on a bench on the path and rested a bit. The grass in the garden was very green and very cool. The happy feet’s toes wriggled and jiggled in the cool green grass.

At the next college, the happy feet stood in line with other feet so the lazy writer could sign up for a writing class.

All that walking and standing in line made the lazy writer thirsty. So she went outside where people sold drinks from huge plastic coolers filled with cold cold ice. The lazy writer bought a bottle of cold cold water and drank it down. The coolness went way down to the happy feet’s toes! After the drink, off they went again, this time to pay the school fees. Clip-clop, went the happy feet past the ice-cooled-drinks-containers.

It was a long long way off to the university’s bank. When the happy feet felt tired again, the lazy writer sat and rested. This time they felt the cool cool stone and moss on steps that led down to a grassy dell. Come and play, the trees and grass said to the happy feet. But the lazy writer had many things to do. Maybe next time, said the happy feet. Up they got, and clip-clop they went, past the cool green gardens.

It had been a long warm day and the happy feet were tired of walking around campus. Oh, so tired! The lazy writer decided to take a tricycle to work and let the happy feet rest a bit. The happy feet loved the ride. Vroom, went the motorbike. The happy feet felt the vibrations that tickled and teased.

The lazy writer was glad to get things done. She was all set for the next semester and looked forward to learning new things. The happy feet had fun walking around school. And the toes wiggled and jiggled and wriggled for joy.

~ The End ~

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I had my first creative writing workshop experience a couple weeks ago in our non-fiction writing class taught by Dr Jing Hidalgo. I had no idea what she meant by choosing our “workshop slots” or what a session would entail. Before mine began she murmured, “Is this your first time? Try not to be sensitive. It’s a learning experience.” Since I was already herky-jerky nervous, not knowing what to expect, that got me even more anxious.

As it turned out she – and quite a few of my classmates (the women) – enjoyed my piece (about the old Santa Ana Park racetrack). They were swept up in the narrative, interested in the sprinkling of karera terms, curious about the lifestyle of a little-known sport (horseracing) and way of life. The men had much to say, mostly on technique – the introduction, scene transition, and so on.

Which showed me how differently the minds of men and women work. Is it a sex-based wired-in-the-brain thing? A male friend told me just last month, “Your ‘Pop Goes the World’ columns (opinion for the daily Manila Standard-Today) are getting better. As for the other stuff – try not to write like a girl.” I pondered upon that, long and dreary, till I was weak and weary, into the wee hours of the night. Mainly I wondered, has my friend not noticed that I am a girl? As the raven quoth, “Nevermore”, I suppose.

My ‘Pop Goes…” columns come primarily from the brain. They are analyses of cultural phenomena in Philippine society, rooted in social science and literary theory, social commentaries from my viewpoint as a communication practitioner and scholar.

The rest of my written work comes from the heart. I use the tools of my art, weaving words and ideas and emotion into nets of fragile gossamer beauty or fabrics of wild or subtle color and texture and dimension, to craft with much care works that are ephemeral, existing as they do on only as ink on paper or dancing electrons on a screen, but that will have their existence in your mind and remain there, alive, as long as you are, as long as you do not forget.

My heart is a girl’s heart of sixteen summers, warmed by the sunshine of love and tenderness, battered by the storms of rejection and adversity, strong and resilient enough to go on beating with hope and still more glowing hope.

It is from this heart that I offer the essays that get the most pageviews and comments and re-tweets – the “popcorn manifesto”, the column on my sisters and daughters.

It is when I write from my girl’s heart that I reach and touch more.

My male friend said, “Make them think.” Yet do I accomplish more that is humanly significant when I also make them feel?

My male friend said, “We are not teenagers anymore.”

In my heart I am, ever naïve and gullible, with a core of unshaken innocence that believes no matter how evil some people are, how they may hurt you and others, still good is out there, and life is a quest to look for it to preserve and protect our humanity, the condition in which we shall exist in the face of advancing technology and much of world culture’s seeming slide into barbarism and cruelty.

Good is out there and I keep searching. Sometimes I find it.

There will be other workshops in our creative writing class. I will hear Dr Hidalgo and my classmates critique my forthcoming essays, and I will hone my writing skills. Perhaps I will become more technically proficient, adept at the active opening, smooth transition, and insightful ending. My male friend might have more to say on why he prefers my cerebral pieces to the emotional.

But I will always write like a girl.

Do not be afraid of that. My heart is open, even if yours is not. Come then, into mine.

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A couple of weeks ago our class on creative non-fiction writing discussed essays on New York City. Our professor, Dr Cristina Hidalgo, told us that many writers spoke of NYC as “the center of the world”. “I’d say UP Diliman is the center of the world!” she said with a laugh.

Which got me to thinking – she was right. Wherever you are is the center of the world for you.

When class was over, I decided to walk around campus a bit.

Beside the Faculty Center is the University of the Philippines Vargas Museum. Right next to its entrance is this fantastic nommery – The Museum Cafe by Cafe Iana (which is at the College of Music). Their butter-rich silvanas melt in the mouth, I promise you.

I acquired my pre-loved Kindle 2 only a couple days before. I explore how it works while enjoying pasta and a cup of brewed coffee. A huge yellow umbrella deflects the sun’s mild rays as I survey an oasis of emerald. It is cool, so cool on my eyes, that even the restless stirrings of my soul are stilled for the moment.

My cup of coffee is adorned with chocolate syrup feathers on steamed milk foam. The brown sugar glitters like crushed gems. I hesitate to drink and destroy the art. But I have seen it, it will always be in my mind’s eye, and the photograph I take lets me share the beauty I see with others.

After the meal, I walk a route familiar from undergraduate days, from the Vargas Museum past the Faculty Center and Palma Hall to the Main Library.

No one from UP calls Palma Hall that. It’s still ‘AS”, short for “College of Arts and Sciences”, which it housed before CAS was split up into the College of Science, College of Arts and Letters, and College of Social Science and Philosophy.

I look up and see a lacy tracery of leaves against the sky. There is always something new to see wherever you are – the trick is to change your angle of vision. Tilt your neck upwards, sideways, this way and that. Risk a stiff neck for a never-seen vista, a novel image. Be open to wonder. Squint. Use your imagination. Look at something upside-down. Experiment, marvel, accept.

Beside the Main Library is a new cafe – Bulwagan Cafe. I must visit it next time and see what caffeinated goodness they have to offer.

On the  front steps of the library are students. I hear there are some inside too, sometimes.

Across the library is a verdant bamboo grove. Beyond it is more grassy expanse, more earth and plants and wee creatures.

As dusk falls, the lamps across campus flick on one by one. I cast a glance back, and spy a lone orange globe glowing amber against the deep green of trees.

Past the library are more trees, lamps, and people for whom this campus is the center of the world, as it is mine this lazy hazy dreamy twilight time.

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From my friends at Dulaang UP, an announcement on their latest season of stage plays:

Dulaang Unibersidad ng Pilipinas (Dulaang UP), the University of the Philippines’ official performing theatre arts group, launches its 35^th season with the theme “Return Engagement: Plays Deserving a Second Look” on July 22, 3:30 pm, at its improved home, the Wilfrido Ma. Guerrero Theatre, 2^nd floor, Palma Hall, Diliman, Quezon City.

Various DUP productions will be restaged, among them Orosman at Zafira on August 11-29, a musical hailed as 2008’s first great production with Dexter Santos as director and original music by Carol Bello;  Shock Value..Take 2 on September 14 –October 3, which adds a new chapter to this exciting comedy that mirrors the  wacky and controversial truth about showbiz life, with Floy Quintos as playwright and Alexander Cortez as director;  Isang Panaginip na Fili on November 24-December 12, another powerful and compelling post-modern musicale of Rizal’s El Filibusterismo and nominated as the 22^nd Aliw Awards Best Musical production  under the direction of Floy  Quintos with Cj Javier providing the music; and Amphitryon on February 16 to March 6, in a Filipino translation by Jerry Respeto based on Heinrich Von Kleist’s play with Josefina Estrella as the director.

Also, UP Playwrights’ Theatre on its 22^nd season will present Floy Quintos’ new play Fake on May 4-13 at the Teatro Hermogenes Ylagan with Dulaang UP founder Tony Mabesa as director. Aside from these theatre productions, Dulaang UP has two upcoming fund-raising efforts: Backstage Sale with various Dulaang UP artists on July 27-30 at the College of Arts and Letters New Building and the launching of Friends of Dulaang UP on July 22.

For further details, please call telephone numbers (632) 9261349 and 9818500 x. 249 and telefax (632) 4337840.

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