135 Chapter The Choreographic Logic of Moro-Moro Plays A central argument developed in this chapter is that choreography rather than plot or theme serves as the organizing element in moro-moro plays. The need to perform certain choreographic sequences serves as a guide for the playwrights or diktador in their ordering of scenes. Conventionally, the manner in which scholars analyze a moro-moro play concentrates on the subject matter, or on the story being told, and this has led not a few to be frustrated with the confusing flow of the plot. In contrast, my approach pays attention to the structuring of scenes, why are they ordered in their peculiar fashion? In the previous chapter we discussed two village performances, the Arakyo of Nueva Ecija, and the Komedya of San Dionisio, and we shall continue to ground our discussion on these two villages. These two communities make for interesting comparisons because in Nueva Ecija, the same story is performed every year using the same script, while in San Dionisio, a new play is used for each fiesta. Despite this difference, in both performances, the structuring of scenes follow conventional moromoro choreographic logic. In both villages, the story periodically gives way to dancing, and scenes are organized in a manner that best showcases movement even if it is at the expense of the plot. The priviledging of dance numbers plays an important function connected with the moro-moro's being a devotional act. In both villages, the plays are staged in fulfillment of a sacred vow or panata, and the performance of many dances are seen as suitable offerings to the patron saint because they require a lot of skill, they are physically strenous, and thus, involve a great deal of sacrifice on the parts of the performers. Some elaborate dance numbers are mere "flourishes", or demonstrations of virtuosity that play no role in the development of the plot. They 136 are inserted into the performance, somewhat illogically - at least to an outsider - but for the moro-moro performers and audiences, these dances constitute "climactic moments". If we are mindful of the notion of dance as devotion, we can reconsider the moro-moro in a new light: what may be viewed as "superfluous" scenes from a literary standpoint, can be valued as "central" scenes from a choreographic standpoint. The Arakyo of Peñaranda Town in Nueva Ecija Province The "Arakyo", sometimes spelled "Arraquio", is Nueva Ecija's version of the moro-moro. It is a play depicting the search by Queen Elena for the Holy Cross on which Christ died. Neighboring barangays or villages in the area all perform the same play, using very similar costumes, choreographic patterns, and music. All the performances take place in May, and barangays would choose one of the weekends of the month to stage their play each year. May is also fiesta time in other parts of the Philippines, and many communities celebrate devotions to the Virgin Mary called "Flores de Mayo", and to the Holy Cross called "Santacruzan". We can also view the Arakyo in this light, as a devotion to the Santa Cruz. In Peñaranda town, in particular, the Holy Cross itself is honored as the town's patron saint, and the Arakyo is considered by performers as a yearly offering. In 1999, Nicanor Tiongson published the book Komedya which presented a study on the Arakyo of Peñaranda based on a performance in Barangay San Jose, held from May 10 to 11, 1986. The analysis that follows is based on a performance held in Peñaranda's Barangay Sinasajan, from May 20 to 21, 2005. It is not the same village as the one in Tiongson's study, but they are close neighbors located within the same municipality, and Tiongson's study can still be used as a guide for understanding how the Arakyo was performed in the area twenty years ago. 137 The Arakyo performance I observed was performed on bare, open-air stage, made of cement, elevated some four feet from the ground and was only partiallyroofed, leaving actors exposed to intense sunlight. There is no backstage, but there is no need for one anyway, for the actors not have any costume changes. There is also no lighting because the performance is held at daytime. Also noticeable is the absence of a backdrop, scenery, and stage effects. In the Arakyo, the story shifts back and forth, from Rome, to Turkey, to the Holy Land. In many situations, the characters travel from one place to the next, by just taking a few steps across the stage. For such sudden transitions, the platform had to be regarded by the audience as a neutral area, not a specific locale. The stage could be whatever the actors indicate it to be: a castle, a mountain, a battlefield. The shifts in locale take place in the spectator's imagination rather than by changes of scenery. The stage Tiongson observed in 1986 had several features that are absent in Sinasajan's production in 2005. One such feature is the damara, or a bamboo trellis covered with coconut leaves which shields the performers from the sun. Another is the bundok or mountain, a makeshift bamboo passageway, standing on bamboo posts, and decorated with bamboo railings and coconut leaves, elevated some ten feet high. Actors used to climb on these bamboo mountains for exciting scenes in the play. I asked the audience in Sinasajan about this, and they remembered having it in the past. They said it was more exciting to watch the fight scenes then, when the wooden structure shook from the movement of the actors as they scurried across. One feature I found puzzling in Sinasajan's production in 2005 was the fact that it wasn't only the stage that looked bare. So too did the space in front of the stage, where an audience should logically have been. On the first day of performance it seemed like no one had turned up for the show, save for a handful of people. The 138 actors seem unfazed by their lack of audience as they continued to perform. They seemed oblivious to the young man dribbling a basketball and shooting hoops on the court right in front of the stage, or the kid biking around, or the vendors setting up their makeshift shops under a cluster of trees. A few curious children have decided to climb the stage, sitting on the edge, with some of them even walking all the way to the middle, to sit next to the prompter-director as he dictated the verses to the actors. Since there was no seating provided for spectators, some would sit on the stage, on the sides, or on the roofed part where there's some shade, in order to watch the performance. On the second and final day of performance, the basketball court began to fill up, in a peculiar fashion. As the sun moved along, so too did the shadows from the cluster of trees, and the gathering crowd, in turn, inched across the basketball court with the advancing shade. At two o’clock, they covered a quarter of the court, with a few people sitting on the ground. They move forward, in a strangely systematic, though still disorderly fashion, as the concrete floor cooled. It was an audience that unhurriedly congregated and casually advanced toward the stage. By half past four, it seemed like a majority of the people in the barangay had shown up. The crowd was composed of people from all ages, male and female alike, from babies to old folk. The gathering had the look and feel of a backyard affair. It is worth asking: why has the crowd turned up only as the play was about to wrap up? Audience Involvement in the Arakyo: The "Panata" To understand the behavior of the spectators, we must consider what function the Arakyo plays in their lives. Many of the puzzling elements of an Arakyo performance can be made more intelligible by a basic understanding of what the 139 audience expects to get out of the performance. A key concept here, is the notion of "panata", for it is in this context that the involvement of the producers, performers, and audience of the Arakyo is framed. A “panata” is defined in the Filipino-English dictionary as a “vow, meaning a promise to perform certain religious devotion.”1 In the Nueva Ecija province, stories abound of how communities that fail to stage an Arakyo performance suffer repercussions like reduced crop yields. With this logic, community members feel compelled to safeguard their livelihood through the performance of the time-honored tradition. A communal panata is made, and there is collective acknowledgement that it needs to be honored. The panata is also made on a personal level, for individual intentions. A parent whose child is stricken with illness, for example, may vow to participate in the Arakyo in exchange for her child’s health. The panata can be performed by the parent, and later on, the responsibility to fulfill the panata may be passed on to the child or other family members, giving the it the function of an infinite thanksgiving ritual. Besides performing a panata as an expression of gratitude, it may also be done in the spirit of supplication as a pro-active means of asking for protection and providence for the coming year. Many parents would participate in the Arakyo believing that by doing so, they can guarantee a year of good health for their children. One who has made a panata to participate in the Arakyo may so in a number of ways. One is by becoming a sponsor of the play, or, in local terminology, becoming a hermano or hermana. It is considered an honor and privilege by villagers, such that there is even a waiting list to be one. Currently, there are 12 hermanos and hermanas who collectively spend for the costs of production, from Taken from the Tagalog-English Dictionary by Leo James English published by the Congregation of the Most Holy Redeemer. 140 costume rental, to band fees, and meals for all performers. It is customary for the Arakyo cast to make a courtesy call at the homes of the hermanos and hermanas to give them a song and dance demonstration. In return for the private performance, they are expected to give a cash donation and refreshments, similar to how carolers are received at Christmas time. This special "preview" staged in various locations in the village extends the spatial and temporal dimensions of the performance. What I saw on May 21 and 22, was a continuation of, or culmination of a series of performances over the last few months. Another form the panata takes is in the performance of a communal dance. At the end of the play, the stage is opened up for the community, and members of the audience come up on stage to perform the pantot or the pasayaw. The dance is believed to be efficacious, in that it can bring good health and other blessings. Older women, and babies, are the more common participants of the dance, but I also saw a couple of men who were carrying babies, joining the dance. The crowd swelled up towards the end of the play because it is then, when dances related to the panata were scheduled to be performed. At a little after five pm, adults carrying babies made their way close to the stage. They were preparing for the pantot, and getting ready to pass their babies to the actors on stage. Upon the announcement of the director over the microphone, actors walked towards the edge of the stage, each reached down to grab a baby from a sea of outstretched arms, and they performed choreographic patterns on stage. After completing a choreographic marching sequence, the actors returned the first set of babies to their guardians, and took another set, over and over, until all babies have had their turn. Different pieces of lively music were played by the band. It was a very festive sight to behold. The stage was nearly overflowing with movement. The air was filled with a cacophony of 141 sounds from the band, complimented by the excited murmuring of proud parents, punctuated by the peculiarly joyous sound of some crying babies. Illustration 13: " The Pantot". Afternoon of the second day. Villagers have turned up with their babies, and young children, whom actors carry on stage for a dance. Old women also join the dancing. Children too old to be carried stand on stage. After the pantot, there was another dance, a kind of turnover ceremony from the incumbent to the incoming set of hermanos and hermanas. On the stage a row of plastic chairs was arranged at the center of the platform and the children of the incoming hermanos and hermanas were made to sit on them. Behind the chairs, the four actresses each held an object symbolizing the Arakyo such as the performance text, the crown of Queen Elena, the crown of King Constantino, and the Moro princess held a Moro headgear. The band played another waltz, and the actresses moved around the chairs while artfully flicking the Arakyo objects to the beat of the music. The dance symbolized not just the formal end of the reign of this year's hermanos and a “passing of the torch” to the next batch, but also assured everyone of the continuity of the Arakyo. 142 The Arakyo Performance Text: "The Untold Story" I have intentionally chosen to first describe the nature of the audience's attendance in watching the Arakyo before discussing the story of the play for good reason. A discussion of the plot of the Arakyo play requires some qualification, because the story really often does not get across to the audience. Of the performance in 1986, Tiongson made the following observation: As the outsider watches the komedya for hours and tries to make sense of it, he eventually throws his hands up in despair. Hardly anyone seems to be interested in what the actors are declaiming. Moreover, as the actors go through all the other activities (dances, pantot, breaks) that wreak havoc on the logic of the story, one comes to the realization that in this performance, the story, dialogue and acting are actually secondary, if not downright marginal. The play is not the thing. For its meaning seems to lie not in what goes on on stage per se, but in the fact that the play is staged….What is important is that it happens…The point is that the komedya is presented as an offering to the Holy Cross to ensure blessings on both individuals and the community.2 At the performance I attended in 2005, I observed several factors that hindered the story from unfolding in an intelligible way. One had to with poor acoustics. As was described in the previous chapter, the actors travel to the four corners of the stage, often beyond the range of the microphone positioned at the center. Thus, only parts of the dialogue are audible, making it hard to follow what is going on. Another factor is the asignation of two roles to some of the actors. Coupled with inaudible dialogue, it is difficult to tell when they've already switched from one character to the next because there are no changes in costume or scenery to visually guide the spectator. And even if acoustics were good, and we were clear on exactly when certain actors have switched roles, the length of the play would still make it impossible to follow so many twists and turns in the story. The play is shown a couple of hours in Nicanor Tiongson. 1999. Komedya, Philippine Theater: History and Anthology 2. Diliman: University of the Philippines Press. p, 215 143 the morning, then there's a break for lunch, it resumes for another couple of hours in the afternoon, then there's an activity in the evening, it resumes the next morning, then there's another lunch break, and then it is hurriedly rushed in the afternoon of the second day, to make way for the pantot and other song and dance numbers. Before each break is taken, the actresses would get together to perform a song and dance. If one were trying to follow the story, the experience could be quite disjointed, and frustrating. The audience is also not expected to watch the entire show, they can come for a while, go home, then come back again, so the director does not feel pressure to present a coherent plot. In addition to this incremental mode of consumption and presentation, another factor that wreaks havoc on the story is the practice of performing scenes out of their chronological order. There are certain parts of the story that need to be performed at a certain time. The search for the cross, for instance, is performed at night after the first day of performance had taken place, and before proceeding to the second half to be performed the next day. The search for the cross is performed off-stage in village backyards, and allows for the participation of villagers in searching for the cross, akin to an "Easter egg hunt". This activity is performed at its scheduled time, even if it breaks the chronology of action in the story. The inclination towards omission of sections of the script is yet another major factor that defeats the story. The maestro in Sinasajan informed me that nowadays, due to time constraints, they just try to cover as much of the script as they can, ending it before it gets too dark, whatever point in the story that may be. Skipping the latter sections of the play effectively changes its plot, in which case, the story as it exists in the performance text, remains untold. 144 The Arakyo performance text used in Peñaranda was recorded, analyzed, and published by Tiongson, together with his annotations on how the direction written on the text was executed on stage. His annotations were based on the performance he saw in 1986. Back then, he already noticed that some of the scenes in the script have been omitted in the performance. Fortunately for me, the performance I saw in 2005 used the same script, so I was able to compare some of my observations against Tiongson's annotations. In 2005, there were far more omissions, and some major components of the play, central to Tiongson's analysis, were no longer performed. Thus having clarified how the story as it exists in the script may not necessarily get performed on stage in its entirety, I now provide a summary of the plot and sub-plots of the Arakyo in Peñaranda. Despite attempts at being concise, the summary presented here is still lengthy because the episodic play is full of twists and turns. It has nearly four-dozen scenes, originally suited for a performance that stretched over a period of several days. Some details may seem superfluous, but they have been included on purpose, for many ostensibly inconsequential details, which one may initially consider to be of marginal value to the development of the plot, in fact figure prominently in the actual Arakyo performance in surprising ways, and this will be the subject of analysis in succeeding sections. But let us not get ahead of ourselves, and get back to the task at hand, that of relaying the plot as it exists in the performance text. As will soon become obvious to the reader, the typical moro-moro plot is full of anachronisms, violating the unities of time, place, and action. The story begins with King Costacio of Rome and Constantinople leading his generals to capture Jerusalem. They encounter the Turks, and engage in battle. The Moro Prince Godimar, nephew of Emperor Costroas of Turkey, sets out on a journey to find love and happiness. Back in Jerusalem, Costacio is outnumbered by Moro soldiers, he singlehandedly fights the Moro soldiers Arcio, Marmolin, Osmalik, and Mahometo and he is mortally wounded by the Moro general Arcio. The Christian Chapter ▼❛❝❤✐♥❡❞ s✐❧✐❝♦♥✴P❙✐ str✉❝t✉r❡s ❚❤✐s ❝❤❛♣t❡r ❞❡s❝r✐❜❡s ✈❛r✐♦✉s ♠❛❝❤✐♥❡❞ s✐❧✐❝♦♥✴P❙✐ str✉❝t✉r❡s ♦t❤❡r t❤❛♥ t❤♦s❡ ❝♦✈❡r❡❞ ✐♥ t❤❡ ♣r❡✈✐♦✉s ❝❤❛♣t❡rs✳ ❚❤❡s❡ ❛r❡ ♠❡♥t✐♦♥❡❞ ❤❡r❡ ❜❡❝❛✉s❡ t❤❡② ❛r❡ ❡✐t❤❡r ♥❡✇ ♣r♦❥❡❝ts ❛♥❞ ❤❛s ②❡t t♦ ❜❡ ❝♦♠♣❧❡t❡❞ ♦r ✇♦r❦ t❤❛t ✇❛s ❞♦♥❡ ❥♦✐♥t❧② ✇✐t❤ ♦t❤❡rs✳ ◆❡✈❡rt❤❡❧❡ss✱ ✐t ✐s ✐♠♣♦rt❛♥t t❤❛t t❤❡s❡ ❛r❡ ♣r❡s❡♥t❡❞ ❛♥❞ ❞✐s❝✉ss❡❞ ❤❡r❡ ❢♦r ❛ ♠♦r❡ ❝♦♠♣r❡❤❡♥s✐✈❡ ✉♥❞❡rst❛♥❞✐♥❣ ♦❢ t❤❡ ❝❛♣❛❜✐❧✐t✐❡s ♦❢ t❤❡ t❡❝❤♥✐q✉❡ ♦❢ ♠❛❝❤✐♥✐♥❣ s✐❧✐❝♦♥ ❛♥❞ P❙✐ ✉s✐♥❣ ✐♦♥ ✐rr❛❞✐❛t✐♦♥ t♦❣❡t❤❡r ✇✐t❤ P❙✐ ❢♦r♠❛t✐♦♥✳ ❚❤❡ ✈❛r✐♦✉s ♠❛❝❤✐♥❡❞ s✐❧✐❝♦♥ ❛♥❞ P❙✐ str✉❝t✉r❡s ✇✐❧❧ ❜❡ ❞✐✈✐❞❡❞ ✐♥t♦ s❤♦rt s❡❝t✐♦♥s✱ ❡❛❝❤ ❞❡s❝r✐❜✐♥❣ ✉♥✐q✉❡ str✉❝t✉r❡s ♦r ❞❡✈✐❝❡s✳ ❚❤r❡❡ ❞✐♠❡♥s✐♦♥❛❧ s✐❧✐❝♦♥ ♠❛❝❤✐♥✐♥❣✱ ♠❛ss ♣r♦❞✉❝✐❜❧❡ ✇❛✈❡❣✉✐❞❡s ❢❛❜r✐❝❛t✐♦♥s ❛♥❞ t❤✐♥ s✐❧✐❝♦♥ ☞❧♠s ✇✐❧❧ ❜❡ ❞✐s❝✉ss❡❞✳ ✽✳✶ ▼❛❝❤✐♥✐♥❣ str✉❝t✉r❡s ✇✐t❤✐♥ ❜✉❧❦ s✐❧✐❝♦♥ ❆s s❡❡♥ ❢r♦♠ t❤❡ ❡①❛♠♣❧❡s ❢r♦♠ t❤❡ ♣r❡✈✐♦✉s ❝❤❛♣t❡rs✱ ♦♥❡ ♦❢ t❤❡ ♠❛✐♥ ❜❡♥❡☞ts ♦❢ ✉s✐♥❣ ✐♦♥ ❜❡❛♠ ✐rr❛❞✐❛t✐♦♥ ❢♦r ♠❛❝❤✐♥✐♥❣ s✐❧✐❝♦♥ ✐s t❤❡ ❛❜✐❧✐t② t♦ s❡❧❡❝t✐✈❡❧② ❢♦r♠ P❙✐ ✐♥ t❤❡ ❧❛t❡r❛❧ s❡♥s❡✳ ❚❤❡r❡ ✐s ❛♥ ❛❞❞✐t✐♦♥❛❧ ❛❞✈❛♥t❛❣❡ ✇❤❡♥ ♣r♦t♦♥s ✐♥ ♣❛rt✐❝✉❧❛r✱ ❛r❡ ✉s❡❞ ❢♦r t❤❡ ✐rr❛❞✐❛t✐♦♥✳ ❲✐t❤ ❛ ✇❡❧❧ ❞❡☞♥❡❞ ❡♥❞ ♦❢ r❛♥❣❡ ✐♥ s✐❧✐❝♦♥✱ ❞❡♣❡♥❞✐♥❣ ♦♥ t❤❡ ❡♥❡r❣②✱ ♣r♦t♦♥s ❝r❡❛t❡ ❛ ♠✉❝❤ ❤✐❣❤❡r ❞❡❢❡❝t ❞❡♥s✐t② ❛t t❤❡ ❡♥❞ ♦❢ r❛♥❣❡ ✭❋✐❣ ✽✳✶✭❛✮✮ t❤❛♥ ❝❧♦s❡ t♦ t❤❡ s✉r❢❛❝❡✳ ■t ✐s ❤❡♥❝❡ ♣♦ss✐❜❧❡ t♦ ❧♦❝❛❧❧② ✐♥❝r❡❛s❡ r❡s✐st✐✈✐t② ✐♥ t❤❡ ✈❡rt✐❝❛❧ s❡♥s❡✳ ❚❤✐s t♦❣❡t❤❡r ✇✐t❤ t❤❡ ❛❜✐❧✐t② t♦ s❡❧❡❝t✐✈❡❧② ✐rr❛❞✐❛t❡ ❧❛t❡r❛❧ r❡❣✐♦♥s ✉s✐♥❣ ■❖◆❙❈❆◆ ♦r t❤❡ ✶✵✻ ✶✵✾ ✌✉❡♥❝❡✱ t❤❡ ❞❡❢❡❝ts ❣❡♥❡r❛t❡❞ ❛❧♦♥❣ t❤❡ ❡♥t✐r❡ ♣❛t❤ t❤❡ ♣r♦t♦♥s t❛❦❡ ✐♥ s✐❧✐❝♦♥ ❛r❡ ❡♥♦✉❣❤ t♦ ♣r❡✈❡♥t ❡❧❡❝tr✐❝ ❤♦❧❡s t♦ ✌♦✇ ❛♥❞ ❧✐tt❧❡ ♦r ♥♦ P❙✐ ❢♦r♠s t❤r♦✉❣❤♦✉t t❤❡ ❡♥t✐r❡ ❞❡♣t❤s ♦❢ t❤❡s❡ ✐rr❛❞✐❛t❡❞ ✇❛❧❧s✳ ❆❢t❡r t❤❡ ✐rr❛❞✐❛t✐♦♥✱ t❤❡ s❛♠♣❧❡ ✇❛s ❡❧❡❝tr♦❝❤❡♠✐❝❛❧❧② ❛♥♦❞✐③❡❞ ❢♦r ✶✵ ♠✐♥s ❛t ✻✵♠❆✴❝♠✷ t♦ ❢♦r♠ ❛ ✷✻✖♠ t❤✐❝❦ P❙✐ ❧❛②❡r✳ ❆t t❤✐s t❤✐❝❦♥❡ss✱ t❤❡ ❛♥♦❞✐③❡❞ P❙✐ ✇♦✉❧❞ ❜❡ ❡♥♦✉❣❤ t♦ ❢✉❧❧② ✉♥❞❡r❝✉t t❤❡ ✐rr❛❞✐❛t❡❞ s✐❧✐❝♦♥ ✇✐r❡s ❜✉t ♥♦t ❡♥♦✉❣❤ t♦ r❡❛❝❤ t❤❡ ❡♥❞ ♦❢ r❛♥❣❡ ♦❢ t❤❡ s✉♣♣♦rt✐♥❣ s✐❧✐❝♦♥ ✇❛❧❧s✴str✉❝t✉r❡s✳ ❆♥ ♦♣t✐❝❛❧ ✐♠❛❣❡ ♦❢ t❤❡ s❛♠♣❧❡ r✐❣❤t ❛❢t❡r ❡❧❡❝tr♦❝❤❡♠✐❝❛❧ ❛♥♦❞✐③❛t✐♦♥ ♣r✐♦r t♦ t❤❡ r❡♠♦✈❛❧ ♦❢ P❙✐ ✐s s❤♦✇♥ ✐♥ ❋✐❣ ✽✳✷✳ ❚❤❡ s✐❧✐❝♦♥ s✉♣♣♦rt str✉❝t✉r❡s ❛♣♣❡❛r s❤✐♥② ✇❤✐❝❤ ✐s ❛♥ ✐♥❞✐❝❛t✐♦♥ t❤❛t ❧✐tt❧❡ ♦r ♥♦ P❙✐ ❢♦r♠❡❞ ♦✈❡r t❤❡s❡ ❛r❡❛s ❞✉r✐♥❣ t❤❡ ❛♥♦❞✐③❛t✐♦♥ ❛♥❞ ❛r❡ ❜❛s✐❝❛❧❧② ♣❛rt ♦❢ t❤❡ ♦r✐❣✐♥❛❧ s✐❧✐❝♦♥ s✉r❢❛❝❡✳ ❚❤✐s ✐s ♦❜✈✐♦✉s ❛s t❤❡ s✉♣♣♦rt str✉❝t✉r❡s ❛r❡ s✉rr♦✉♥❞❡❞ ❜② P❙✐ ✇❤✐❝❤ ❛r❡ r❡❞❞✐s❤ ✐♥ ❝♦❧♦r✳ ❚❤❡ ❞❛r❦ ❧✐♥❡s r✉♥♥✐♥❣ ♦rt❤♦❣♦♥❛❧ t♦ t❤❡ s✉♣♣♦rt str✉❝t✉r❡s ❛r❡ t❤❡ s✐❧✐❝♦♥ ✇✐r❡s✳ ❚❤❡② ❛♣♣❡❛r ❞❛r❦ ❜❡❝❛✉s❡ t❤❡② ❛r❡ ❡♠❜❡❞❞❡❞ ✇✐t❤✐♥ t❤❡ P❙✐ ❧❛②❡r✳ ❚❤❡② ❛r❡ ♦❜s❡r✈❛❜❧❡ ❜❡❝❛✉s❡ P❙✐✱ ❜❡✐♥❣ ♣♦r♦✉s✱ ❞♦❡s ♥♦t ❝♦♠♣❧❡t❡❧② ❜❧♦❝❦ t❤❡ ❧✐❣❤t ❢r♦♠ t❤❡ ♠✐❝r♦s❝♦♣❡ ❢r♦♠ r❡❛❝❤✐♥❣ t❤❡ ✇✐r❡s✳ ❚❤❡ s❛♠♣❧❡ ✇❛s t❤❡♥ ✐♠♠❡rs❡❞ ✐♥ ❛ ✈❡r② ❞✐❧✉t❡❞ ❑❖❍ s♦❧✉t✐♦♥ t♦ r❡♠♦✈❡ t❤❡ P❙✐ ✈❡r② s❧♦✇❧②✳ ❊t❤❛♥♦❧ ✇❛s ❛❞❞❡❞ t♦ t❤❡ ❑❖❍ s♦❧✉t✐♦♥ t♦ ✐♥❝r❡❛s❡ ✇❡tt❛❜✐❧✐t② s♦ t❤❛t t❤❡ P❙✐ r❡♠♦✈❛❧ ✐s ♠♦r❡ ✉♥✐❢♦r♠ ❛♥❞ ❧❡ss ❛❣❣r❡ss✐✈❡✳ ❙❊▼ ✐♠❛❣❡s ✇❡r❡ t❤❡♥ t❛❦❡♥ ❛♥❞ ✐s s❤♦✇♥ ✐♥ ❋✐❣ ✽✳✸ ❛♥❞ ♠❛❣♥✐☞❡❞ ❙❊▼ ✐♠❛❣❡s ✐♥ ❋✐❣ ✽✳✹✳ ✽✳✶✳✶ ❚❤r❡❡ ❞✐♠❡♥s✐♦♥❛❧ ♠✐❝r♦♠❛❝❤✐♥✐♥❣ ❚♦ ❜r✐♥❣ t❤✐s ✇♦r❦ ♦♥❡ st❡♣ ❢✉rt❤❡r✱ P❇❲ ✇❛s ❝❛rr✐❡❞ ♦✉t ♦✈❡r ♣❛tt❡r♥❡❞ ♣❤♦t♦r❡s✐st ♠❛s❦s t❤❛t ❛r❡ s❧♦♣✐♥❣ ❛t t❤❡ ❡❞❣❡s✳ ❚❤❡ P❘ ✇♦✉❧❞ ❜❡ t❤✐♥ ❡♥♦✉❣❤ s♦ t❤❛t ✶▼❡❱ ♣r♦t♦♥s ✇✐❧❧ ❜❡ ❛❜❧❡ t♦ ♣❛ss r✐❣❤t t❤r♦✉❣❤ ❛♥❞ ❝r❡❛t❡ ❞❡❢❡❝ts t♦ t❤❡ ✉♥❞❡r❧②✐♥❣ s✐❧✐❝♦♥✱ ❤♦✇❡✈❡r✱ ❜❡❝❛✉s❡ ♦❢ t❤❡ ♣r❡s❡♥❝❡ ♦❢ t❤❡ P❘✱ t❤❡ ❡♥❞ ♦❢ r❛♥❣❡ ♦❢ t❤❡ ♣r♦t♦♥s ✐♥ s✐❧✐❝♦♥ ✇♦✉❧❞ ❜❡ ♠♦❞✐☞❡❞ ❛❝❝♦r❞✐♥❣ t♦ t❤❡ P❘ ♣r♦☞❧❡s✳ ❆❢t❡r ❛♥♦❞✐③❛t✐♦♥ ❛♥❞ P❙✐ r❡♠♦✈❛❧✱ ♠✐❝r♦♥ s✐③❡❞ s❧♦♣✐♥❣ s✐❧✐❝♦♥ ✇✐t❤ t❤❡ ♣r♦☞❧❡s ❢♦❧❧♦✇✐♥❣ t❤❛t ♦❢ t❤❡ P❘ ♠❛② ❜❡ ❛❝❤✐❡✈❡❞✳ ❆❝❝♦♠♣❧✐s❤✐♥❣ t❤✐s ✇♦✉❧❞ ❞❡♠♦♥str❛t❡ t❤❡ ❛❜✐❧✐t② t♦ tr✉❧② ♠❛❝❤✐♥❡❞ s✐❧✐❝♦�reatures is another conventional feature of moro-moro stories. Lions are typically used, but so too are giants and dragons. Various props are used to portray these creatures, in Ilocos for example, paper mache lions attached to bamboo sticks are thrust on the stage floor, and manipulated back and forth, reminiscent of Vietnamese water puppets being manipulated across a rice field. In Iligan, a dragon was constructed out of ply wood and was manipulated manually. In Prinsipe Reynaldo, the furry lion costumes looked "mascot" like, with a huge full head mask made of fur. Illustration 16 Prince Reynaldo saves Princess Floresinda from lions The persons who wore the lion costumes had to cross the stage on all fours, to look like lions. The fighting scenes between Floresinda and the lions, and later Reynaldo and the lions, were quite vigorous and action-filled. During and after the scene, the audience was audibly and visibly enjoying the show. When the lions are driven away, and Reynaldo and Floresinda are left alone, the crowd starts teasing the lovers on stage, with a collective "uuuuuuy" to urge them to come closer to each other. 164 Briefly, in the next few scenes: Scene 9: Somewhere in the Mountain Floresinda, who was separated from her father Sultan Baysito and his soldiers, rejoins them and relays her being saved from lions. Scene 10: In the Kingdom of Turkiya A Pagkokonseho scene, Sultan Baysito expresses relief and gratitude that Floresinda was saved. A prince arrives, named Miramulin from Marueko, presents himself to the Sultan and expresses his desire to join the tournament for Floresinda's hand in marriage. Let us note here, that all the entrances to these scenes are done in a dignified procession. Even the entrance of Miramulin is done with a march. Scene 11: In the Kingdom of Turkiya Prinsipe Reynaldo arrives, also to join the tournament. To conceal his Christian identity, he dressed as a commoner and worked as a gardener in the palace. Scene 12: In the Garden Floresinda and Reynaldo meet in the garden, and when she sees him (and we must remember he is in disguise as a commoner) she suspects that it was he who saved her from the lions in the mountains, but he denies his identity to her. Scene 13: Kingdom of Berbania Queen Amalia expresses her sadness over the prospect of parting with her daughter, who will soon be married off. (This scene doesn't seem to fit the general flow of the story, but the queen is a leading role and must be given special speaking lines). Scene 14: In the Garden, in the Kingdom of Turkiya Floresinda catches Reynaldo off guard in the garden and uncovers his true identity. She convinces him to join the tournament so he could win her hand in marriage. I shall pause here to describe scene 15 at length, for in the actual performance, this scene takes longer than most other scenes. It is the Torneo scene, the tournament where suitors compete for Floresinda's hand in marriage. There are many exciting dances that are shown off in a Torneo, and actors and audiences alike look forward to them. But before the tournament begins, Floresinda requests for dancers to be called. 165 Illustration 17 Singkil dance inserted into the play And a "Singkil" dance is inserted into the moro-moro performance. This folk dance is not usually a part of the moro-moro, and its insertion is an innovation. The director intimated to me that they decided to include this dance because it is, in their view, an "authentic" Moro dance from Mindanao.8 Some two dozen young dancers occupy the stage, wearing the standard Singkil costume, and using indigenous percussion instruments. Never mind that the play is supposed to be set in the kingdom of Turkiya in medieval Europe, to the play's producers, the inclusion of a "native" Mindanao dance is a nationalistic touch. The moro-moro always had this inexhaustive incorporative capacity, and throughout its history, song and dance numbers have been inserted into the scenes. After the "Singkil" dance had been performed, and the dancers have vacated, the more traditional moro-moro dance choreography could at last be performed. The Singkil dance, rather than annoying the audience for disrupting the natural flow of The authenticity of the Singkil has been challenged by researchers who point out the various misrepresentations in terms of exagerrated movements and costumes. The National Artist for Dance Lucrecia Urtula-Reyes mounted the Singkil for the stage for the Bayanihan Folk Dance Company, a choreographed version of a dance supposedly taught to her by a Maranao princess. There are some discrepancies between the original and staged versions, such as the partnering of male and female dancers on stage. In Maranao culture, dancing between males and females is discouraged. 166 events, heightened the anticipation for the signature komedya choreographic sequences unique to San Dionisio. The insertion of the Singkil also further emphasized the grander scale of this year's performance because the additional number of people on stage is an expression of a huge budget (more people requires more refreshments). Paseo And now we get to the signature dances in San Dionisio. The first dance is the paseo, a marching dance where the participants in the tournament perform columnar, serpentine, and circular sequences that display the groups' coordination. As Doreen Fernandez notes: "The paseo has no role in the story, but is simply a flourish, a display, being a series of marching patterns to music: figure eights, chains, circles, lines with spears held diagonally to form a canopy, or swords held downward, point to point. This involves all Moro and Christian soldiers, the two lines led by marching masters who cue each other with a look, and thread the lines in and out and around each other in intricate, precisely sequenced patterns. The paseo is a favorite with the audience, even though it has no part in neither love nor war. It demonstrates marching prowess, grace, and pageantry. The continuous changing of patters thrills because of intricacy amd skill. Again, the nonverbal declaration being made is: '9Look at me - us - aren't we splendid; isn't it fun?' The paseo performed this year not only maximized the entire stage, the columnar formations also spilled over to the audience area through a ramp. Spotlights, mood lights, and even laser lights which projected moving images all over the ceiling added even more visual interest to the already impressive marching formations being executed by the performers. Each actor wore a different costume, and there was a mixing of iconographic references from a vast range of epochs. Anachronisms abound in the Komedya of course, and this is celebrated as an opportunity to give the imagination free reigh in conjuring up costumes. Fernandez., p. 163 167 Illustration 18 A paseo innovation: leaving the stage to get closer to the audience. One soldier looked like one of the three Musketeers, another looked like a gladiator, and another one looked like a Europeanized "panday" which is an iconic image made popular by Filipino movie actor-turned presidential candidate, Fernando Poe. The pageantry and skill made the paseo enjoyable to watch. The lively march music (which I play in my head as I write this), was infectuous, and a little boy in front of me, who seemed like he'd just recently learned to walk, copied the marching movement and did so impressively well, to the beat of the music. Escaramosa After the paseo, another popular dance was performed. The music changed from a march to a waltz, and thus cued by the change in tempo, the audience was alerted that it was time for another San Dionisio "signature" choreography. It is called escaramosa, and Fernandez described it as follows: Each one waltzes, alone or alongside one from the opposite rank, sword or lance in hand, down towards front stage center, then towards the king upstage center. There he turns around and bows to the audience. There may be teasing and hooting while this is done. There may be a clumsy clumping of boots, or an awkwardness with the waltz, but no soldier is embarrassed, because this is proper to 168 the warrior, just as much as are the threats and the skill with the sword." This dance is very popular with the audience because the swaying from side to side, to the tune of the waltz, man facing man dancing to each other, offers many opportunities for teasing. This is also an opportune moment for the gay members of the cast, to openly "perform" their sexual orientation through a momentary release from "masculine" demeanor, to a softer, more effeminate one. This is another way the Komedya reflects social change. It was only recently that openly gay villagers have been allowed to join the performances. Many elders and conservative villagers frowned upon this development, arguing that the roles of princes and soldiers must be performed by "morally upright" and "strong" men. The new batch of leaders argued that gay villagers played important functions in the production, such as helping with costumes and providing free make-up, which saves a lot of money. And besides, they can act as capably as the men, when on stage. True enough, they march and perform the fighting scenes in as masculine a way as any. In the escaramosa, however, they have a choice to make, of either dancing like the men, or swaying with just a bit more gaiety. And the audience awaits their decision. In one case, as it became one dancer's turn to dance in front, the audience began jeering, some were saying "bumigay ka na" (give in!, let go!), and this person started shaking his head while dancing - as if playfully telling the audience that he will stand his ground, and keep in character- holding his head proudly while performing the waltz in the prescribed way. Far from being boring, the repetitive choreographic sequence that called for dancers to take centerstage one pair at a time, allowed ample time for the audience to watch how each dancer renders the steps. The three dances mentioned, the Singkil, paseo, and escaramosa, were all just preludes to the torneo where the swordplays were performed. 169 Batalla Dance Sequence: Giri, Kuratsa, and Laban The batalya scenes showcase their skill, as well as test their endurance. There are choreographic sequences to be followed, all signature moves unique to San Dionisio. Before engaging in a fight, preparatory stances are executed called giri, which is likened to the posturing of a rooster before a cockfight: with dagger in one hand and sword in the other, a number of positions are held for four counts - standing on one foot with dagger and sword in front of the body; then another four counts, crouching with one knee bent and the other leg stretched, body leaning on the bent leg; and another four counts - the sword is thrust deliberately, and slowly, in the direction of the opponent, body weight shifting from one leg to another, almost in slow motion. These sound easy, but the positions require balance, and an actor can occasionally falter and a balance check, which the audience would surely notice. Then there is the kuratsa (curacha), a two step dance with sword and dagger. At the Komedya conference, Hermie Hernandez, the chairman of KSD, and San Dionisio's "Mr. Komedya", for he has been greatly involved in the komedya as actor, director, and organizer for six decades already, demonstrated the conventional kuratsa. With a lightness of step that belied his years, he executed the two step, with knees slightly bent, and arms held to the sides, being raised from thigh level, up to chest level in small increments, while traveling in a semi-circular pattern. It was graceful, and enjoyable to watch. There was no music when he gave this demonstration, but his gait, and the rhythmic pulsing of his arms, made one hear in one's head, the conventional melody that goes along with the dance. Ka Hermie then called another veteran performer, Jimmy Nery, who is KSD's President, to demonstrate innovations to the basic kuratsa. When Fernandez wrote 170 her study in 1982, she noted that Jimmy Nery had been playing the leading role of the prince for 15 years already, and at that time he was telling people he was really going to retire. Ka Jimmy executed the same basic steps, then began twirling his sword, first holding it down at thigh level, then he crosses his arms while still twirling, and to make it even more spectacular, he raises his arms even higher, almost like a helicopter, while maintaining the rhtyhm of the same basic two-step, and the same body posture, his torso, almost unmoving, and his wrists and arms doing all the fancy expressions. These innovations made Ka Jimmy famous in San Dionisio, and the audience used to go wild when he performed his signature moves. New generations of princess and princesses now learn this choreography, and it has become part of the new repertoire of kuratsa basic steps. After the preparatory giri, and kuratsa, the third stage of the actual batalya is the laban (fight), or the actual encounter itself, where actors engage in combat. The choreography for laban scenes is initiated by a series of steps taken from the national martial art caled arnis. The sequence involves striking and blocking thrusts to the neck, and body, done in a rhtyhmic and controlled fashion. After a series of these measured strikes, the combatants will lock swords, and push away from each other, with real force, then return to executing the striking sequence again. Going back to our story, we are still in scene 15, in the torneo scene, and participants at the tournament are preparing to battle each other for the hand of Princess Floresinda. The first batch of contenders are all Moro noblemen, led my Prince Miramulin from Marueko, who fights and wins over Avensirik first, then Alimudin, second. Then three other nobles descend upon Miramulin, and he beats them all. Princess Floresinda then asks for the bilyano or commoners to come forward and to also join the contest. Prince Reynaldo (who is a Christian prince 171 disguised as a commoner in this Moro Kingdom), is one of the combatants and he is able to beat one other bilyano, and then another, and three more men descend upon him all at the same time, and he conquers them all. Prince Miramulin then challenges Reynaldo, and by this time the audience has been conditioned to see that both contenders are men of prowess, and it makes for an exciting fight. Reynaldo was just about to defeat Miramulin when six of the torneadores (or those who are participating in the tournament) descend upon him, and he continues to fight them all. The Sultan calls off the fight, which Reynaldo clearly won, but there are protests from the members of the king's court against Princess Floresinda marrying a commoner. The Sultan heeds the advice of his council, and rules Reynaldo's victory to be void. Princess Floresinda appeals his decision, (for she is in love with Reynaldo), but the Sultan is angered by her appeal and ends up slapping her. And so ends scene 15, in a dramatic moment. When the lights fade at the end of the scene, the audience's applause is thunderous. I shall very briefly talk about the next three scenes, and their practical function in the play. Scene 16: Kingdom of Napolis Princess Rosalina enters, marching solo across the stage. She expresses her worries over her brother Garcelis who is still mourning the death of their parents, and who is having difficulty recovering from their loss. Scene 17: Garden in Turkey Prince Reynaldo appears, and begins his lamentations about the unfortunate turn of events at the torneo. Princess Floresinda appears, and she also expresses her sadness over her father's decision. The two lovers spot each other, and promise their love to each other. Scene 18: Kingdom of Berbania Queen Amalia appears with her daughter Princess Cecilia and they talk about the tournament that is about to be held among the latter's suitors. 172 It seems like the amount of time given to scene 16 is disproportionate to the message it conveys. Rosalina performs the pasa doble all across the stage, then upstage along the side, then towards downstage center. The long march not only represents traveling a long distance, it also has a practical purpose. With scene 15 being so demanding, with nearly all of the cast involved in it, the extended march performed by a lone character in scene 16 makes sense. It buys time for the cast backstage to settle down. It also gives the lead characters Prince Reynaldo and Princess Floresinda, a chance to catch their breath, for they will appear in the next scene. The reappearance of Reynaldo and Floresinda immediately after the challenging scenes they just portrayed in scene 15, gives us an idea of just how challenging and demanding it is to be a komedya prince or princess. Not only these actors have to look good, they also need to be athletic. Princess Floresinda has to have a lithe body, for the costumes designed for her require a flat belly, and shapely legs. She has many scenes to handle - she will be slapped, she will have to kiss her counterpart, engage in many batalyas, change into many costumes, and even ride a horse. She also has to memorize hundreds of lines, and if she has to deliver them right after a dance, she cannot be panting, for the lapel microphones will capture her breathing. The moro-moro is fun, but it is no joke to participate in one. Months of rehearsals had to take place. And at the rehearsals, villagers would come to watch and freely give unsolicited advice, telling actors "di dapat ganyan, dapat ganito" (you shouldn't it that way, you should it this way). The observers at rehearsals include San Dionisio's Komedya connoisseurs who have invested emotionally in the performance, for it is the community's panata to Tata Dune, and they will take offense if they feel their tradition is not being given justice by poor acting. Also, 173 there are a number of princes and princesses in any given play, each one being given many scenes to perform. Within one performance, there is an opportunity to compare who are the better and more gifted performers. Watching the komedya is like watching a play, a sports competition, a beauty pageant, and dance contest, all in one sitting. In scene 18, the audience is informed that another torneo will take place, this time for the hand of a Christian princess in a Christian kingdom. The patterns I have described, the pagkokonseho, the paseo, escaramosa, and the batalya's giri, kuratsa, and laban will be repeated several times more. There will be many more twists and turns to the story, which ultimately ends in the reunion of lovers Reynaldo and Floresinda, and the other couples we have not discussed here, such as the Christian Princess Rosalina and the Moro Prince Maramulin; and Princess Cecilia and Prince Gracelis which results in the inter-linking of the different kingdoms introduced at the start of the play. In the end, there is no longer a baptism scene. Sultan Baysito simply acknowledges the errors of his ways and expresses remorse for hindering Reynaldo and Floresinda's love. Many features differentiate the Komedya of San Dionisio from the Arakyo of Nueva Ecija. The scale of the production, the size of the cast, the emphasis on costumes, the stories being told. Despite these differences, there are some key elements that they share in common: the panata as motivation for staging the plays, the stock characters and stock situations in the plays, and the underlying choreographic logic that structures the performance. In both the Arakyo and San Dionisio performances, dancing remains important, and to this day, just as in previous centuries, the lengthy performance continues to be liberally injected with the war dance at every possible turn. The dance-intensive scenes are challenging to perform, 174 requiring skill, expertise, and coordination. And because they are repeated throughout two days of performance, they are strenuous and also require endurance. As such, they are seen as worthy offerings to the patron saint. [...]... Floresinda's hand in marriage There are many exciting dances that are shown off in a Torneo, and actors and audiences alike look forward to them But before the tournament begins, Floresinda requests for dancers to be called 1 65 Illustration 17 Singkil dance inserted into the play And a "Singkil" dance is inserted into the moro- moro performance This folk dance is not usually a part of the moro- moro,... dances in Cebu City Her description of the wrist movements of the dancers of the sinulog, reminded me of the flick of the wrist of the dance in the Arakyo While watching the dance, a woman in the audience explained to me that the they must flick their wrist "na parang pumipitas", "as though plucking a fruit or flower" Ness identifies the use of "distal body parts to initiate movement", such as using the. .. bring characters from different kingdoms together Scene 5: In the Kingdom of Bohemia Prince Reynaldo informs his father, the king Don Pedro that he will journey to Turkiya to pursue the beautiful Princess Floresinda whom he has been dreaming about Scene 6: In the Kingdom of Turkiya Sultan Baysito and his daughter Floresinda, together with their army, set out for the forest to go hunting Scene 7: In the. .. its insertion is an innovation The director intimated to me that they decided to include this dance because it is, in their view, an "authentic" Moro dance from Mindanao.8 Some two dozen young dancers occupy the stage, wearing the standard Singkil costume, and using indigenous percussion instruments Never mind that the play is supposed to be set in the kingdom of Turkiya in medieval Europe, to the. .. force, then return to executing the striking sequence again Going back to our story, we are still in scene 15, in the torneo scene, and participants at the tournament are preparing to battle each other for the hand of Princess Floresinda The first batch of contenders are all Moro noblemen, led my Prince Miramulin from Marueko, who fights and wins over Avensirik first, then Alimudin, second Then three other... that is, of scene patterns being performed in both the Christian and Moro kingdoms For instance, the Christian King Costacio is killed by Moros at the beginning of the story, and later, in turn, the Moro Emperor Saladino is killed by Christians The choreographic sequences performed at the start of the play are repeated again in the mid-section of the play As was mentioned in Chapter 3, the moro- moro audience... Scene 1: In the Kingdom of Bohemia Pagkokonseho The king Don Pedro the father of Prince Reynaldo reminds his son about guarding the kingdom from possible attacks Scene 2: In the Kingdom of Turkey Pagkokonseho Sultan Baysito, father of Floresinda announces his plans to attack nearby kingdoms to expand his territory Scene 3: In the Kingdom of Berbania Pagkokonseho King Enrico with Queen Amalia and their... read as the "Moro emperor" The dance moves for leading their soldiers into battle are the same for the older and younger king/emperor, and to the moro- moro viewer, who is accustomed to seeing the Christian king and Moro emperor leading their armies into war, little details such as whether it is the older or younger king/emperor do not matter at all For the regular audience of the Arakyo, that actors play... across the stage, facing downstage right Once in the straight line formation, the bodies of the performers are held taut, and they march in place while keeping the upper body upright The King checks this line, making sure it is straight, 146 then he breaks the line, leads the soldiers to another marching sequence in serpentine paths, around the stage, ending in another straight line, diagonally across the. .. merely a simple stepping action from left to right foot associated with the word "march", but rather, a hopping move, with the body crouching low to the ground, the knees dipping deeply towards the floor and the body leaning into the pose as the body is thrust energetically from side to side while the serpentine path is executed The serpentine sequence ends in a straight line executed by the generals, formed . action in the story. The inclination towards omission of sections of the script is yet another major factor that defeats the story. The maestro in Sinasajan informed me that nowadays, due to. carrying babies made their way close to the stage. They were preparing for the pantot, and getting ready to pass their babies to the actors on stage. Upon the announcement of the director over the. the moro- moro? It is within the power of the diktador to lessen the number of dance sequences involved so that there would be more time to devote to the development of the plot. But instead of