Ateneo Art Gallery in Manila
By Mara Fabella

‘Women, War, and Death in Sulu: Equanimity’, 2022, autobiographical recollection, embroidery on garments, woodworking and installation of traditional Tausug appliqued canopy (luhul). Image courtesy of Ateneo Art Gallery.

Weaving has long been seen as a woman’s task. Stereotyped as gentle, domestic work, women are viewed as the gender most fitting for such a practice. Yet in a defiant new show at the Ateneo Art Gallery, women weave as a show of strength and resistance. ‘Weaving Women’s Words on Wounds of War’ features artworks created together with communities of women around the Philippines who share their painful accounts of life under Martial Law, enacted by Ferdinand Marcos from 1972 to 1981. The show recounts stories ranging from the northernmost areas of the Kalinga province to the southernmost islands of Tawi-Tawi. The wide narrative scope of these works speaks to the many experiences women were forced to undergo at the time – from violent physical abuse, to having their autonomy stripped away by patriarchal regimes. For years, their voices have gone largely unheard. Now, following the 50th anniversary of the declaration of Martial Law in the Philippines, the exhibition shines a light on these women’s stories.

‘Palimbang’s Thousand-Fold Grief’, 2022, autobiographical recollection, masonry, sandblasted engraving on stone, videography and digital architectural rendering. Image courtesy of Ateneo Art Gallery.

Approaching the exhibition space, one is confronted by a chilling visual. A long display features memorial plaques, lined with numerous names etched onto their surfaces. In 1974, the people of Palimbang in Sultan Kudarat were subjected to a horrific ordeal by the Armed Forces of the Philippines. Men were taken to the Tacbil Mosque where they were slaughtered, while women were held captive onboard a ship. There, they were subjected to three months of unspeakable physical and psychological violence. Each name is a tribute to a life lost. The most poignant aspect of the work lies in the hands of the four women survivors who carved these names. Through memorialisation, they mourn while also seeking justice for the victims of the Palimbang massacre.

‘The En-graved Seventy-Plus’, 2022, autobiographical recollection, digital architectural rendering, acrylic and wood architectural modeling, embroidery and installation. Image courtesy of Ateneo Art Gallery.

There’s a palpable power in these works coming from the perspectives of women. The show allows each set of experiences to exist on their own accord, away from any contemporary historical biases and detached from an explicitly gendered lens. But it is also through such a lens that these tales of tragedy are underpinned by defiance. Women, often made to be victims, are now given the chance to shape the narratives that have attempted to control them. Curator Marian Pastor Roces shares that the women were also given autonomy over what they were willing to share with the public and what they preferred to keep for themselves. Their experiences, Roces claims, “do not lend to easy storytelling”. The show allows each set of experiences to exist on their own accord, away from any contemporary historical biases and detached from an explicitly gendered lens.

“The show allows each set of experiences to exist on their own accord, away from any contemporary historical biases and detached from an explicitly gendered lens.”

‘Nine T’boli Women: Discretion’, 2022, autobiographical recollection, digital printing on ribbons, woodworking and installation. Image courtesy of Ateneo Art Gallery.

In the Philippines, female weavers are held in high regard, revered as protectors of cultural tradition. But who protects the weavers when their homes are under attack? In a particularly impactful work, women from the T’boli of South Cotobato reflect upon life under a male-dominated rule as Martial Law was strictly imposed upon their lands. From missionaries to government representatives, men governed with misogyny, placing significant aspects of their female subjects’ lives under their predatory control. Upon suspended weaving frames, red and black ribbons bear the stories of nine T’boli women who dealt with this oppression. Some talk of defiance; others intimate violent generational trauma. The effect is visceral. Instead of passively reading these stories, one is encouraged to walk along the breadth of each frame, slowly parsing each word like a weaver parses the individual threads of her fabric. These women weave potent metaphorical tapestries, so that many women today may see shades of their own experiences reflected within.

“These women weave potent metaphorical tapestries, so that many women today may see shades of their own experiences reflected within.”

Many from the Southern island of Sulu voluntarily joined the Muslim secessionist forces in the war against the Philippine Army in the 1970s. Among them were women who volunteered both as medics and soldiers. A haunting installation features a series of brightly patterned garments: a faded white blouse is decorated with orange flowers, while a long-sleeved deep blue top bears leaf-like motifs. Looking at them up close, one sees the embroidered names of the Tausug women who wore them during the time of war. These garments appear commonplace, bearing no visible signs of their time. The work effectively emphasises how war in these regions affected everyone, soldier or not. Yet within these clothes is also a sense of agency. The Tausug women, donning their individual and cultural identities through their clothing, made the conscious decision to join the ranks of combat and protect their people. In donating those very clothes to the exhibition, they assure their fight continues through their stories of bravery and resistance.

Viewing the accounts of these women during the Philippines’ darkest period, the question remains: how do we continue to keep their legacies alive? Karl Castro, the exhibition’s artwork development lead, points out that when we discuss the Marcoses’ Martial Law, we often conjure up robust images of a decidedly male character. Today, the challenge lies upon artists, writers, cultural workers, and storytellers to bridge the gaps across history that have left the rightful places of these women largely unrecognised. In Castro’s words, “the concerns of women are not solely the realm of women; they should be the concern of all.”

The alliterative title ‘Weaving Women’s Words on Wounds of War’ hints at connected threads – that narratives of violence and pain inexplicably weave themselves throughout women’s lives. The works of this exhibition leave a painful reminder of the trauma women have been forced to bear throughout history, often as a result of the actions of exploitative regimes. Yet they also reflect how with these experiences comes the opportunity to rebuild. As the show’s title suggests, with the pain and trauma also comes narratives of creation and persistence.

‘Weaving Women’s Words on Wounds of War’ is on show at Ateneo Art Gallery in Manila from 22 August to 1 October 2022. More information here.