THE ETHNIC TRADITION IN THE PHILIPPINE DANCE

Ethnic dances are found among the ethnolinguistic groups scattered all over the Philippine islands, who
have not been substantially Westernized, either by Spain or the United States. These dances, which are
integral to the community’s way of life, are: the ritual dances, which connect the material world to the
spiritual; the life-cycle dances, which celebrate an individual’s birth, baptism, courtship, wedding, and
demise; and the occupational dances, which transform defense and livelihood activities to celebratory
performances.

Ritual Dances

Rituals sustain the spiritual and social life of the indigenous Filipinos. Closely attuned to nature, believing
in the spirits that keep their environment fruitful and their selves alive, the ethnic Filipinos enact these
rites – always with instrumental music, chanting, and often dancing – as “part of communal life cycles,
but they also serve as a popular medium of dramatic expression and entertainment that reflects the
people’s nature, culture and aspirations” (Amilbangsa 1983:1).

At the center of these rites in the shaman called baylan or babaylan in the south and mumbaki,
mandadawak or manalisig (a lesser mandadawak), mambunong or katalonan in the north. The shaman
speaks in a mysterious language “intelligible” to the gods, offer the sacrifices, and dances in a trance.
According to Robert Fox (1982:209-210), the babaylan among the Tagbanua of Palawan are of ginuu
(noble) standing, have an “aura of magico-religious potential” and are “stable individuals who often have
a deep understanding of how the society works and of psychological problems of individuals.” It is not
unusual that they cannot dance except in the pagdiwata ceremonies, done during the bilug (full moon).
Around the shaman is the support of kin (like a help called taga-iring) who form a sodality.

The position may be inherited or received by “calling.” Among the Tagbanua of Palawan, the pagdiwata
is a ritual of thanksgiving for the rice harvest and for general well-being. The babaylan dances the
characteristics of the spirits who enter them in a trance. Before an altar full of offerings (rice wine in jars,
china bowls of rice, betel, ginger, onion, pepper, candles), dressed and armed with an alindugan (hood),
palawpas (fronds), a kris of dagger, and accompanied by gong playing, the babaylan chants on a
ceremonial swing, drinks, and dances. Lighting a cigarette may symbolize “the fire of the supernaturals”
while floating a turtle on the wine may mean the visit of a sailor sprint who fights epidemics (Fox
1982:224-225). Lasting from 8 to 12 hours, the pagdiwata invites not only the highest deity. Magindusa
but also other deities to join the feast of drinking, eating, chewing of betel, and smoking, so that none
might be slighted.

Out in Bukidnon there are the hinaklaran (offring) festival and the ritual of the three datu. In the first
there is chanting and dancing around an altar. The women dance the well-known dugso while a babaylan
ceremoniously chants her own invocation. The ritual can go on for some six hours to assure the blessings
of the spirits a good harvest or good fortune. Also for everyone’s well-being, the rite of the three
Kaamulan datu (chieftain) enacts a regional unity where the datu offer chicken of various colors, pouring
their blood beside offertory water and coins. In the past, the new datu Man Sicampo Man Langcayan of
Tikala-an (formerly Pusod ha Dagat or Navel of the Sea) invited Kapetan Pedro Tayabong, datu of
Lambagowon (now Cagayan de Oro), the sultan of Dodsaan, the sultan of Maguindanaom and the sultan
of Tagolaan for a pact of friendship. They sealed this over a dug hole where they placed a Quaran, a
Bible, a durian fruit, a chicken, and over which they placed a balagun (rattan vine) which symbolized a
would-be betrayer’s fate. A feast of seven days followed.

Up north, the Tinguian in the mountains of Abra worship their anito and their great god Kabunian. They
are led by a medium called mandadawak or alpogan. Their pinauban ritual pours out blood over or ties
strings around the pinaeng, stones of Kabunian (or Apadel, Kalagang) once entered these pinaeng stones.
Male participants may pray the diam or dimdimi, and make a pig cry for the gods to hear. The women
dance around and sing the salidumay. All these are to ask for rain or pray for everyone’s well-being.

When life is threatened by illness, the Tinguian celebrate the bawi. The bawi-bawi, a simulated house, is
the center around which a mandadawak and his/her assistant make a pig cry, again for the spirits to hear.
In the manerwap, the Bontoc bring baskets of chicks to the hills; their chirping supposedly helps attract
the spirits. For a similar cause, the Apayao stage a dawak. The female mandadawak exchange verbal
chants, take up large scarves and head axes, sprinkle the sick with water. Squatting, the sick and their
relatives are all covered with a ceremonial or symbolic blanket. When the cure is effected, everyone rises
up to dance.

The Aeta of Zambales stage the anituan to drive away the evil spirits that cause sickness. The patient or
patients are covered with a red cloth and are surrounded by the shaman and the patient’s relatives. They
threaten the spirits to go away with their bows and arrows, spear and sticks. Should this fail, they resort to
talking with the spirits and propitiating them with gifts and food. Effect is declared when the red cloth is
pulled away, and everyone joins in the celebratory dance of shuffling walks, shaking, and skipping
around.

Believing that they are descendants of the union of the sun and moon, the Mandaya of Davao hold various
rituals to court the favors of various environmental spirits. In their anito baylan, each of the female baylan
holds a red scarf and a small kalasag (shield) with shell and bead attachments which are sounded with the
gongs and drums. They shuffle around in curves and circles, moving forwards and backwards, spinning
and shaking in a trance. The dance is full of agility and vigor, and is colorful with the Mandaya’s dyed
and patterned abaca clothes, elaborate headdresses, and red scarves.

As profoundly religious a people are the Bagobo, also of Davao. They believe in Pamulak Manobo who
created the heaven and the earth, and molded the first man named Toglai and woman named Toglibon.
Their daily life is ruled by rituals, among these the awesome four-day gin-um which of old included
human sacrifice. Like the Mandaya, they are colorfully dressed in their tie-dyed tinalak (abaca) clothes
and elaborate ornamentation, pehaps suggested by their god’s passage over rainbow to descent to Mount
Apo to create Toglai and Toglibon.

Their assiduous if sometimes fearful religiosity includes the healing ritual where the female baylan
dolefully officiates before a tall altar with incense, and daubs with blood of the sacrificial chicken the
body of the sick. They also flick a red cloth or scarf to help effect an appeal to the gods and give vigor to
their patients. The patient himself finally joins in the dance, a cleansing exercise that finally restores his
vitality.

The Isneg of the northeast Cordillera are as colorful in their clothes and feasts, as they are fierce in their
headhunts. A rite for everyone’s well-being gathers on a mat a coconut which also simulates a decapitated
head brought in by a victorious mengal or headhunter, coconut fronds and flowers, bamboo strips, pots,
and chickens. The officiating shaman puts these things in order, and whips the ground and the chickens.
The whole community starts dancing in pairs, and then all together. To gongs and other percussion
instruments, they spread out their arms with their ubiquitous blankets, slightly turning left and right,
lightly swooping around each other, keeping their feet busy with earthy shuffling steps, sometimes
skipping.

Addressing the spirits may include all sorts of procedures. In the Umayamnon babaylan dance, a man
dresses up as a woman, inasmuch as most babaylan are women, but as man he retains his strength which
pleases the gods. With scarves, the babaylan encircles a bush, the symbol of life, most spirit reside, and
utter incantations. This spiritual dimension of life suffuses the indigenous Filipinos’ celebrations so that
shamanistic dances are found almost everywhere. In the Subanon buklod, this becomes clearer when the
community itself joins in the act of propitiation and celebration.

Up before sunrise, the men go out to open field, away from diurnal duties, to raise a sacred building
reaching for the clouds. It rises at sunup and is gone by sundown. There will be no trace left of its sturdy
and supple strength, no remnant of its cabalistic ceremony – except in the memory of its celebrants. The
best wood is chosen for strength, the best bamboo for pliancy, and the best food, rice wine, and incense
for efficacy. A baylan chooses the sacred spot where the buklog is to rise; measuring three to four times
an adult person’s height, it towers out, alone, in the open. The baylan then leads the people and offers
food and incense to the spirits. They and the people drink and dance in the manner of their epics and
ancestors. To give thanks for a bountiful harvest, to deflect any illness or misfortune, the Subanon of
Zamboanga hold hands, keep a common rhythm, and move as one body in a symbolic circle. The woven
bamboo floor bounces up and down. The people keep in step around a central pole called pathaw (long
pestle) that pounds against a log called dulugan (mortar) dug below, sometimes with resonating jars
beneath to echo the rhythms of the buklog to the hills and plains. A totemistic support pole looks over the
whole ceremony with godly detachment.

To the Subanon, the buklog is an old, old rite, a communal celebration, a now subliminal sexual symbol,
an offering to the gods, a spiritual experience. In the epic tale of Sandayo, the noble Subanon rose up to
the clouds with their servants, who came down again and told of a heaven of gold and light. Their
ceremonial buklog is most unique in the land in being held high up on a special yet temporal flooring that
must be dismantled by sundown. In the buklog the communal participation is total, as everyone joins in a
circular dance, a symbol of their unity as a people and of their union with the divine diwata (spirits).

Though these rituals, life is asserted an reasserted – life that is more than the survival and health of the
individual and the tribe but includes the balance and fruitfulness of nature. This life then makes possible
the birth of more lives, renewing life’s length, strength, and meaningfulness in the young.

The Life-cycle Dances

The life of the young is devoutly and joyfully ushered in, nurtured, and promoted. A child’s life is so
guarded among the Tinguian. In their gabbok, one of the subtribes of the Tinguian ritually transfers the
health of the elders to the child. A mandadawak examines a pig’s bile and other inner parts for a good
omen. These are rubbed and crowned on the baby for good health. Then taking up in turns a china bowl,
an ax, and a chicken, she dances around with the manalisig. Still dancing and with a spear, she strikes a
helpless pig on the ground and then snaps out of her trance.

The Kalinga mark the same rite. Known to be be brave and beautiful, feared for the headhunts of the
minger and admired as the “peacocks of the mountain,” the Kalinga keep a couple and their child under a
blanket while a shaman chants over them, periodically wiping the couple and their baby. Someone steals
the ritual blanket away so that the mandadawak may run after it, shake it, and restore it over the family.
Finally, the child is walked around an altar, the shaman and others following with arms and implements
that may project their bravery and industry in rice planting.

The Bilaan of Davao and Cotobato are rich in ritual imagination. In their exchange of cradles called
aslolog aban, held on a mat that is a common ritual object in the south as the blanket is in the north, the
parents assure the marriage of their children earlier on. Their dramatic dance pandamgo (dream), a
Matigsalug mother imitates the care of her small baby, from bathing to combing her hair. The baby grows
up to be a child, a teenager, and finally a marriageable young lady. The mother continues prettifying her
and teaching her the use of a slung malong (tubular skirt) which seems to symbolize mature
responsibilities. Soon two men make their suits with favors represented by beautiful necklaces. The
mother takes he choice which the young lady does not favor. There ensues a fight between the suitors,
and the mother and daughter end up crying over the deaths of their favored ones. This dance builds up
interest as girls in graduated ages playing the daughter come out from behind a screen of malong, while
the musicians and dancers play the same rhythms.

If parents care with overdetermination, children nevertheless grow up with fun. But real fun designs its
own ritual rules and gameplans. Witness the song-and-dance games of the Muslim youth. Early in life,
they are already fastidious in taste, whether they live around the placid Lanao Lake or by the rough Sulu
and Celebes Seas. Maranao girls pretend to be mothers themselves by singing and swaying to lullabies.
Or they play with boys, as kn pokpok alimpapukok, until an age when they must seek their separate games
(the boys have their own games, like the sungayan kabaw or tug-of-war), or just be onlookers. Badjao
boys discover graceful agility in the sea with their toy vintas. On reaching a particular age, the Yakan
boy’s hair is cut in paggunting; the boys are ceremoniously made up and weighed in the pagtimbang –
both for reasons of health. They graduate from Quaran reading in the pagtamat. Here there are many
rituals and gifts.

Up north in the Cordilleras, the Ifugao boys may play with their flat tops or learn the dextrous rhythm of
their music and dances, like the dinnuyya. Their counterparts among the Bukidnon and Kabanglasan in
Mindanao learn the gliding inagong and hunting dance.

As distinct a rite of passage as these events are the occasions when girls and boys learn the different
dances of their sex. A Matigsalug girl learns to play the boat-shaped lute called kudlong while marking
rhythm with her feet. Rhythmic skill is tested even more among the Tagakaolo in their udol, both a
resonating log and a dance around it. Bukidnon, Tigwahanon, Matigsalug, and Higaonon girls join adults
to learn a range of dances that stimulate planting, wave parallel hands to bamboo guitars or saluray,
display pennant like fronds or lukay, and imitate hawks as in the banog-banog. To the Maguindanao girls,
mag-asik is to dance and a dance is so named. To Francisca Reyes-Aquino, the Tiruray mag-asik means
to sow, which is just what the Bukidnon girls imitate in their dugso, also meaning to dance. To the
elaborately adorned and bell-belted Tboli, kadal means dance, but it may come in imitation of a bird
(blilah), a monkey (iwas), etc. To the Tausug and Sama, igal means rhythmic steps or dance. The
pangalay means the same, and it comes in different varieties. It is studied by girls and some boys early on
for mastery. It is a very restrained but highly articulated form, with a style that has affinity to Balinese,
even Thai, classical dance. It may be performed with extended nails or janggay and balanced on
supported bamboo poles as in the pangalay ha pattong.

Most young men’s dances enact a fierce fight or a martial art. Among the Badjao, Tausug, and Sama, the
silat, also known as kuntao, lima, pansak, belongs to the general and martial langka, a gamesome dance.
The Badjao learns this out at sea or on a boat where they spend most of their lives. Among the Maranao,
the youth is initiated into the marinaw which is a precombat chant and ceremony which lead into the full-
fledged sagayan dance that transforms him into a respectable young man. Like the sagayan, the Subanon
soten supplicates the spirit to give strength and courage to a warrior who shakes a shield and palm leaves.
Courtship is enacted by adventurous young men and attractive maidens whenever the Matigsalug play the
saluray and kuglong/haglong/faglong, and sing and dance together. Among the Kalinga, the gangsa
dominates the rhythm of the salip where a roosterlike male swoops around a maiden who as well spreads
out her arms wide or keeps them on her hips. He may hold in hand a gift for her.

A similar imitation of two mating fowls obtains in the manmanok of the Bago. They use blankets that are
spread out with their hands or are kept around the hips. The men seem to scratch the ground, while the
women keep shuffling steps to close together and to the ground. Again, blankets enlarge the movements
of the takik of the Ibaloy with hands help up and flicking with percussive accents. The nearby Gaddang of
Nueva Vizcaya dance out a similar rooster-and-hen courtship in bumbuak, without the usual blankets but
with active hands and shuffling skipping steps.

Even more gamesome is the Maguindanao chase-and-run through several malong held up by friends.
Surprising is the dance of the lovers performed inside one such malong in which dancers strike
symmetrical poses. The malong also serves as a whip against intruders in the danced liaison. Flirtatious
but bolder are the salok or scoping hand gesture of the old, old pantomina in Bicol, which is still danced
by the much marginalized Abiyan. More sedate is the dalling-dalling of the Tausug (from the English
word “darling”) also called pagsangbay. A dance that displays grace as much as affection, it is considered
a courtship dance, especially when done in pairs.

Among the Yakan, a young man has to dress up fastidiously to visit a girl. In the negotiation for marriage
called muatangan, the whole community is involved. The man is borne on the shoulders, bringing the
dowries. On the final day, the man rides a horse and is shaded with an umbrella. The wedding itself called
pagkawin is long and complex, with the bride and groom heavily made up. The groom offers food to his
bride and puts a scarf of cloth on his seated bride’s shoulders. Flirtatiously but demurely she rejects all
these several times but finally accepts. In their sumptuous makeup and colorful headdersses and sablay,
the couple finally dances in the schooled style of the pindulas.

Pagkawin is also the name of the Badjao wedding which is celebrated on a boat, with madiens dancing by
the bride’s side as the kulintangan, agong, and the tambourine-looking dambara play. As in the Yakan
rite, a datu or imam officiates and covers the groom’s hand and his own (with thekr thumbs “kissing”)
with a ceremonial cloth. To finalize the relationship, they both hold the bride’s head.
In kasal sa banig, the Bagobo go through the exchanges of food and chewing of betel by a stream. The
couple is made to incline their hands and their hair is wound together. Similarly, the kawin of the
Manobo includes the exchange of food plus the sacrifice of a pig on which the groom and bride ritually
place their feet. In the end they both step over the pig. General festivity follows.
Food is again exchanged in the Matigsalug’s paasawauy where there is an exchange of gifts between the
bridal parties. The groom’s thigh is placed over the bride’s while they are seated on a mat. The datu talks
to the couple about marital obligations and finally makes them stand back to back with their heads
together. Again marriage is negotiated on a mat among the Bilaan. In their samsung the parents negotiate
over the dowry, much coming from the groom’s side (prized gongs, jewelry, implements, etc. ). There is
also an exchange of verbal chants and of kampilan called falimac. From the bride’s side a tinalak cloth is
given to the groom’s parents to clarify that she had not been “bought.” Finally, the groom is urged to put
a foot on his bride’s shoulder, while the hesitant bride does the same, maybe with a provocative shove.
Then they dance and everyone else follows. In their tinapak clothes, headscarves, and jewelry, the people
dance to the tangungo gongs and the perpetual tinkle of women’s belt-bells.
A most interesting martial arrangement is made in the pig-agawan of the Talaandig. Here, three maidens
attact the attention of one man (the group has more women than men), with their tall feathered combs,
bead jewelry, and embroidered scarves. Dancing all along, the man plays the role of the prized and fickle
one, teasiNg each maiden as his or not his choice by laying his kris on one of the women!s scarves.
Similarly, the karasaguyon of the fastidious Tboli of Cotobato also provokes the women to preen
themselves up endoessly and fight over a man who makes a choice for his fifth wife. These women are
preferably sisters and cousins of his first wife, and they may be as young as 10 or 11 years of age.
After performing their own courtship dance called talip where the man lures a woman with an attractive
blanket to place on her shapely shoulders, the Ifugao celebrate the intaneg or wedding with the festival
dance called dinnuyya. In the presence of a mumbaki drinking ceremonial wine, the bride is dressed with
the dong-dong and the groom with the horned kango on their heads.
In most ethnic groups, mourning is communally observed with song and dance. The Tinguian will have
three to four women representing their villages and relations to the dead conversing over the victim; in the
part called sangsang-it, they sing over the dead. The Abiyan will dance around the grave in the lidong.
Young and old will do the same in the say-ang. In the monghimong, the Ifugao men turn up in mass at the
burial of a murdered tribe member, bounding up and down in rhythm on one or two feet. Wearing white
headdresses from betel-nut palm, crowned with red dongla leaves, some carry a spear in hand or two. The
rest carry the death sticks called bangibang which they veat in strict syncopation. These used to be
stained with their enemies’ blood, now only with caravao or chicken blood. Their dead, seated and
addressed by the living, is fetched at noon so that when he acts in revenge it iwll also be as clear and
bright. In the udol of the Tagakaolo, the women lure back their men from battle by dancing around and
beating a musical log called udol. This log is pounded, as belts and anklets with bells are shaken for the
spirits to hear. The smoke of kamangyan (incense) also leads the irits o find their way back home. This
call of the grieving women can last for days.
The Occupational Dances
Life in the ethnic communities is characterized by a variety of activites relating to livelihood or defense.
These activities are joyfully celebrated in mime and dance. Most common to the varied ethnic cultures of
the Philippines is the transformation of the rice cycle into dance. The Bilaan, for instance, act out a whole
sequence, from men choosing and clearing a field, to women bringing food, the men digfing the ground
with poles, the women sowing seeds from their baskets, and finally, harvesting to a more leisurely rhythm
of the haglong and gongs. The same is done by the Bukidnon with their tulak (digging poles), seed and
harvest baskets, and pestles for poundinf-all to the accompaniment of the same musical instruments and
an open-mouthed bamboo kalatong. The Talaandig of northern Mindanao also enact the same planting
style in their tudak, while the Aeta of Zambales, in their own manner, dance out the planting of gabi in
mangbutot.
Being hungers, many tribal peoples create actions appropriate to the object of the hunt-a bird, a beehive, a
frog, or fish. The lakulak (frogs) are the imaginary objects of the hunt in the Matigsalug panulo. A man
dances this put with his bolo, while a woman attends with a basket to shore his takings. Similarly, an Atea
of Pampanga, boy or man, dances out much of his life, like in the traditional talipi or a situation where he
is attacked by bees as in the pinapanilan.
Fishing itself is very much around in this archipelago of islands and lakes. The Bilaan dramatically mime
and dance out the amti with fish traps, prepare a plant’s poison to daze their catch, build a fire for their
meal, and mark the rhythm with their bodies, even as they crawl or are up on their busy feet. Danger and
defeat can engulf a tribe’s life and they have to put up a fight. Again, these are not nust valiantly met but
creatively danced out. Dancing gives courage before (and after) a battle and relieves if not actually
transforms grief.
In the kalasag the Matigsalug enact a combat with shields and spears. The dance is full of hops, skips,
and vibratory hand movements with a spear. With outspread arms their movements are birdlike. As alert
if not more is the pangayaw of the Talaandig, full of extrovert runs and chases, falling on knees, and
clashing of shields. These same implements are used in the Yakan tumahik. The combatant-dancer’s feet
are as frenetic as the veaten music. But the shields are round. Round and elongated shields are
contrastinglh used by opposing camps in the Cuyunon sinulong. Found in the island of Cuyo and smaller
surrounding islets in the Visayas, the Cuyunon paint their faces in this dance, but they carry no swords or
spears. In the mangayaw, the Ikalahan of Nueva Vizcaya and nearby provinces, subtly shift weights and
simply go around carrying their small shields and spears or bolo. Former headhunters (mainly against the
brave Ilongot of the region), they have a story of how a monkey joined the victors and their dance has
since been called tayaw in tadlaw (dance of the monkey). The Kalinga also go into headhunts in their
kayaw. They watch out for an idaw bird and consult a mumbaki or shaman. A good omen leads them into
a mock-war dance. On the other hand, a victory calls for the crowning of the mingers (those returning
with head-trophies) with feathered headdresses called lawi.
Epilogue
Rites and dances are still being performed because they serve the belief and social systems of the ethnic
Filipinos. If life is deemed hard, these rites and dances give expression and solace to their needs,
sometimes give them courage and determination. These rites and dances are revivified by action and
movements, and by the motives and spirits that inspire or require them.
Arts is a means of coping. In its basic function, art deals with the actualities and problem of existence.
Making baskets, for instance, deals with the need to store seeds for eating and planting. Weaving cloth is
for the purpose of providing a second protective skin. Making arms helps men to meet a challenge that
has to be confronted. Yet baskets, clothes, and arms, when made by the tribes, have not remained crude
but have, in fact, no matter how raw tha materials, produced visual feasts that more than satisfy need. In
like manner, being born, growing up, getting married, working and fighting to live, and dealing with grief
have not only been coped with. They have been staged and are still in rites and dances that go beyond
mere survival.
More than just filling in the esternal and internal (psychological and spiritual) needs, these rites and
dances are in fact modes of celebration. They themselves are facts of life, and are more than just modes of
symbolization. They are as real as cloth, baskets, and arms-artifacts that cannot be kept in museums or
between book covers, not even in the two-dimensional films. They are of celebrations in their actual form
and fun. They are a dimension of life itself, and life is incomplete, unintelligible, and unexciting without
them. Indeed, celebration ties up all sorts of dances, which sometimes defy scholarly classification.
The rediscovery of ethnic materials in their pristine liveliness brings its own refreshing excitement to the
modern eyes. Avid folkarts researchers find endless pleasure in uneadthing forms and permutations in
shapes, sounds, steps, and senses the reveal the prodigal imagination of the ethnic people. With their
costumes and instruments, rites and dances also provide substance to present-day documentation and
presentation. The success of many folkdance troupes have for the most part rested not only on their
fidelity but also on their creative approach to tribal crafts and customs.
The full-evening Filipineseas: Philippine Life, Legend and Lore in Dance of National Artist Leonor
Orosa-Goquingco and the wide repertoire of the Bayanihan Philippine Dance Company staged by
National Artist Lucrecia Reyes-Urtula brim with ethnic materials from tribal folkways. The unflagging
research drive and assiduity of Ramon Obusan have kept vibrant and vital his folkloric group’s repertoire,
classified into published and unpublished dances of the Philippines.
Agnes Locsin uses the term “neo-ethnic” to suggest the transformation of indigenous rites and dances for
the contemporary stage. She has recently intensified this creative procedure in her innovative, and
sometimes controversial Igorot, 1987; Bagobo amd Muslim, both in 1990; Moriones and Hinilawod,
both in 1991; and Encantada (Enchantress), 1992. Earlier works had used ethnic inspiration, like
Benjamin (Villanueva) Reyes)’ Alamat (Legend), 1976; Eddie Elejar’s Maranao Maguindanao-based
Katakata sin Rajah Indarapatra (Stories of Rajah Indarapatra), 1968, later expanded in Juru-Pakal (The
Enchanted Kris), 1971, and his Kapinangan, 1972, Rajah Sulayman, 1975, Tales of the Manuvu, 1977,
and Rama, Hari (King Rama), 1980; Luis Layag’s La Mora; Gener Caringal’s’s Ang Sultan (The
Sultan), 1973, Tomandg at Aniway (To aneg and Aniway), 1975, and Labaw Dunggon, 1985; Corazon
Generoso-Iñigo’s Lam-ang, 1974; Ester Rimpos’ Duo, 1977; and Eric Cruz’s Cañao, 1980. Like Cruz,
Eli Jacinto has used his experience in jazz and modern dance with a folkdance group in his own
contemporized Filipino dances.
Ironically, living abroad has inevitably drawn Filipino choreographers back to their ethnic roots, as
evident in Basilio’s Morang Tarjata, 1974 (done in collaboration with Reynaldo Alejandro in New
York), Mosque Baroque, 1975, Paglalang (Creation), 1983, Sa Baybayon (By the Seashore), 1986, the
dance drama Ang Babaylan (The Shaman), 1988, with director Edward Defensor, and Oriental Fantasy,
1990. Joy Coronel’s long stay in New York drew her to ethnic forms and themes in Salip, Yakan,
Muslim, and Kulingangan, in the same manner that Kristin Jackson dealth with a Kalinga ritual in
Kolias, 1984. Even before she left for the United States, Denisa Reyes staged Arem, 1975, in Manila,
transformed into Ifugaos in New York. Later she did her trancelike For the Gods, 1985.
Like so many Filipinos living and running their creative folkloric troupes in America, alleulia Panis in
San Francisco bases her choreographic presentations on Philippine folk and ethnic dances. Folkloric
groups abroad assert and project Filipino identity in this transformational manner. In the Philippines, folk
troupes continue to dig into their folkways and, significantly since the 1970s, to focus on their regional
and provincial grounds and resources.
Despite some thoughtless and uncreagive transformations, these contemporary researchers,
choreographers, and companies recreate and even revitalize indigenous materials for the moren and urban
audiences. B.E.S. Villaruz and R.A. Obusan