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Philippine Collegian

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On its 85th year, the Philippine Collegian looks back at eight decades of headlines that saw print on its pages & sent ripples within and outside the university.
 
21 Jan 1990
Anti-bases “welga” set
Members of UP Students Voice, a coalition of anti-bases organizations in Diliman, last week signed a manifesto calling for a bases-free Philippines and finalized plans for the “Welga ng mga Iskolar ng Bayan laban sa base militar” slated for January 30.
 
 
 
Last week
 
Editoryal
Chartering Disputes
Balita
Panukalang UP Charter, isasalang na sa bicam

Residents stop census

Groups oppose removal of ceiling on tuition increase

Partylist funds CSSP tambayan construction

Student march halted at centennial kick-off

Tungo sa Hinaharap: Ang SR sa hamon ng sentenaryo ng UP

Main Lib employee dies from fall

Dead body found in Arboretum

Narra catches fire

Angat o lagapak: Sipat sa pambansang ekonomiya sa 2008

Kultura

Closeted Resistance

Tingi-tinging Kapalaran

Lathalain
Soiled Programs

Tinig ng Pagtindig

Grapiks
Komiks : Buknoy # 10

Sipat : Pananghalian

Opinyon
It sort of hurts to remember your smile*

Shooting the President

Return to Sender

Time Check

 
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Out of Sync: Singing to the tune of the UP centennial celebration

Glenn L. Diaz
Philippine Collegian
Last updated January 23rd, 2008

Throughout the centennial kick-off, one song reverberated in the air. UP Ang Galing Mo not only appeared in shirts, it assaulted other senses as well. ‘UP Ang Galing Mo,’ the phrase repeated a thousand times, it seems. The official centennial song played for what could have been well more than a hundred times.

Some were reminded of a popular radio station jingle, others, of a primetime show ditty. The song suited perfectly in the overall thrust of the celebration – pride congratulations for a job well done on one hand, complacency and selective overlooking of things best ignored on the other.

Melody of malady
As with UP Naming Mahal, UP Ang Galing Mo is a product of a song-writing competition. Composed by alumnus and veteran jingle-maker Herbert A. Rosales, the compelling theme behind it is nostalgia and pride at reaching a hundred years. UP Naming Mahal, meanwhile, which was originally in English, aimed to capture the ‘elusive’ UP spirit during UP’s early years.

Right from the start, the song’s foremost sentiments are made clear: loyalty, pride, homecoming. Similarly, the kick-off festivities saw the return of UP alumni from distant lands and the reaffirmation of everyone’s pride and loyalty to UP.

Also, the school’s famed excellence in the academe is described as beyond compare and indiscriminate of field. Science, though, gains the only mention, while all other fields are relegated to ‘kahit ano pa.’ ‘Hi-tech man’ bares its attempt in projecting UP as a modernized university and not lagging behind in technology. This is also apparent in the choice of the genre of music – pop rock.

Such, however, reveal the loud and proud anthem’s selective character, which facets it choose to resonate and what it is meaningfully silent on.

A myriad of maladies have pervaded the university – a fact best forgotten if the celebrations were to remain festive. UP, for one, suffers from continuously dwindling government subsidy despite its supposedly sterling status in society. It declares its technological advances yet students still cry for better facilities. It claims to be the ‘hope of the people’ but does not say that it recently raised its tuition, restricting access to UP education. Amidst such issues, organizers of the kick-off opted to keep the celebrations ‘devoid of politics’ and neutral. With the UP administration dictating the celebration’s focus, it cannot be expected to look at problems which would just dampen the festive mood.

Notwithstanding its singularly messianic tone, the song’s reference to UP’s tradition of being a beacon of change looks at students’ struggles as if they were over, trapped in history, as if the battle was already won.

Alternative tunes
Isang Daan, the official centennial song of UP Los Baños and composed by student Maria Angelica Dayao, offers an alternative. Instead of starting with congratulations, the song pays homage to UP’s role of serving the people (see sidebar ). More importantly, it does so without bypassing pride and loyalty, as these figure prominently in the song’s chorus and bridge.

Unlike UP Ang Galing Mo, which views excellence as the University’s most important tradition, Isang Daan sees a more pressing one. While UP Ang Galing Mo is content with reaping the freedoms of past struggles, Isang Daan declares the need to persist, although admittedly vague at some point.

Taking this a step further is a modified version of UP Naming Mahal performed in Lean The Musical. Sung in parts by Chikoy Pura, Noel Cabangon, Cooky Chua and Bayang Barrios, this version completely departs from the self-directed acclaim of the original to focus more on the people, whom, the song says, the University is supposed to be of (see sidebar).

While both versions pay tribute to the UP scholar, the original views him as the hope of the nation, the new, a servant of the people. Also, the adaptation tackles the subject of loyalty differently. While the original declares constancy by keeping UP in the hearts of alumni, the adaptation seemingly pokes fun at this and espouses a different brand of loyalty: staying in the country and serving Filipinos. All in all, the song places the people above the self.

Alternative celebrations of the centennial banked on such principle; that more than apolitical nostalgia, the milestone calls for reaffirming a fundamental nature of UP education: that it is be funded by the people and, thus, UP students being subsequently indebted to them.

Disharmony
In the same way that the centennial kick-off rites summarily ignored other sectors comprising the UP community, the question of selecting the official centennial song underscores the issue of favoring one set of ideals over another; although, of course, marginalized ideals will always find ways to claw its way to the center.

These songs all seek to portray the University of the Philippines in certain lights. UP Ang Galing Mo is content in basking in glory. Isang Daan meets halfway, congratulates the University and calls for persistence at the same time. The modified version of UP Naming Mahal completely shatters all traces of narcissistic remembrance and devotes everything to the people.

As UP looks back on its 100-year history, these songs, aside from being anthems of celebration, also serve as documents, records as it reaches a milestone in its existence. By virtue of omission from such records, then, a song can delete a long-standing tradition, such as service to the people, from its set of ideals.

For an institution that has played a crucial role in the nation’s state of affairs, exultation and pats on the back are in order. Yet for a university like UP, school spirit means more than singing such songs with proud voices. It is sharply remembering which voices it is supposed to heed, for this is what separates it from the rest. # Philippine Collegian

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For Whom the Bells Toll*

Dianne Marah E. Sayaman
Philippine Collegian
Last updated January 23rd, 2008

UP Naming Mahal recalls a nostalgic tune as the university’s centennial celebration kicks off. The nostalgia, though, is only for a select few among the thousands present. An undaunted fortress erected between the University Theater and UP Film Institute, the UP Carillon has stood guard over the Diliman campus. In line with the grand centennial projects of the UP administration, rehabilitating the Carillon offers a prelude to the disappointing future one can expect from the current issues plaguing UP.

Alumni Initiative
Inaugurated on August 1, 1952, the Carillon played songs like UP Beloved and Planting Rice to mark the start and end of the working hours in the university. It cost the UP Alumni Association Php 200,000.00 to raise the tower first conceived in 1940.

The original bells were customized in Holland. Consisting of an ensemble of forty-six perfectly tuned bells, the Carillon was operated through wooden pegs and levers attached to its keyboard known as the clavier. Meanwhile, the 130-foot structure housing the musical instrument was designed by National Artist for Architecture Juan Nakpil. Succumbing to decades of neglect, the Carillon gave its last performance during the 1988 Lantern Parade.

Redeeming itself, the current UPAA has assumed the responsibility of rehabilitating the Carillon. The project has already gathered approximately Php 14 million since its launch in 2005 and still needs additional funds for the construction of the Carillon Plaza where the names of the donors will be engraved on stones.

Patrons of the project include former Chief Justice Hilario Davide Jr., Justice Minerva Gonzaga-Reyes and even big companies like Smart Telecommunications and San Miguel Corp.

Jaime S. de los Santos, chair of the UP Carillon Restoration Project, maintains that the Carillon serves “to inspire alumni and members of the UP community, to induce a feeling or sense of belongingness, giving one a sense of loyalty to an organization which is a symbol of excellence, that is, UP.”

Transformation

Throughout the years, the Carillon has more than hummed and clanged. It has been recognized as a tower overseeing all movements within the campus. This position has accorded it a place in the university’s history.

According to D.M. Defeo’s UP: Sites and Symbols, the Carillon served as a fort against a repressive state which once encroached the country. It served as a stronghold during the he Diliman Commune. In those years of intensified student uprisings, the tower stood amidst violent military response to the militant call for national democracy.

During the First Quarter Storm, the structure served as a watch tower of student activists. The range of scope afforded by a view from atop the tower rendered the Carillon as an effective vantage point for activists to monitor military activity in the campus. Consequently, it also became their refuge whenever they were pursued.

The superficial tolling of the carillon emerged as an invaluable instrument in the liberation of oppressed minds. From a musical instrument of almost trivial subsistence, it evolved into a symbol of student fervor for freedom. The tower reached greater heights with its newfound meaning in the struggle against the authoritarian Marcos regime.

Centennial Ornament
At an almost equal stature with the Oblation, the Carillon is hailed as a campus landmark which has acquired different, often contrasting, symbolic relevance for different people.

Art Studies Professor Patrick Flores’s essay states that “Public monuments exist where public space is utilized to erect a diversion for the masses, a form of art with the supposed purpose of service and devotion to the people.” He also noted that “monuments are raised where memories of a collective experience resonate in order to preserve history”. History has always been a question of perspective. As such, no single memory can claim to affix the symbolic significance of the Carillon to the university’s history.

As architectural historian Noris Kelly Smith stated, “A building may be said to be a work of architectural art, then insofar as it serves as a visual metaphor, declaring in its own form something (though never everything) about the size, permanence, strength, protectiveness and organizational structure of the institution it stands for.” Its damaged state, then, must be deemed parallel to the university’s. The years of neglect it has endured may be likened to the government’s cuts the university’s state subsidy. The participation of large companies like Smart Telecom and San Miguel in its revival is reflective of the administration’s moves to commodify education in response to state neglect. The subsequent contestable efforts to “rehabilitate” the flawed system are synonymous to the measures taken to revive the Carillon in the past years: mere pretences to satisfy the scrutinizing eye.

These forces which push on frivolous projects to usher the next century portends a vision of UP devoid of any commitment. Instead of the emancipating history that the university should pride on, interest is focused on a hollow tradition of excellence.

The Carillon’s symbolism and purpose reveal the direction the university is treading. The lack of further educational facilities and the dire fiscal conditions of an average UP student remains unnoticed while millions are allocated for the resurrection of a symphony whose perception sprang from self-exaltation. Excluded from the scenario is the principle that should have been ingrained in every graduate of this university: service to the country and its people.

As the final notes are hit, the deep tones vibrate in the night air. The suspended sound mocks the end of the piece; vibrations produce an echo of the music. Meanwhile, members of the UP community stride across lawns, unconscious of the new era the heavy bronze bells have called and warned against.# Philippine Collegian

*with apologies to Ernest Hemingway

References:
[1]Lico, G. (2003). Architecture and Society. Edifice Complex. Ateneo de Manila University Press
[2] Fores, P. (1997). Mga Pampublikong Monumento. Sining at Lipunan. Sentro ng Wikang Pilipino, Sistemang Unibersidad ng Pilipinas

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