MY WE – Louie Cordero

The ideas and work processes of Louie Cordero are based on the different exchanges that define the local and the global. The elements of My We (2011) derive from this heightened awareness of the modifications that denote the persistence of the provincial. The disaster scenario in this work pivots around the videoke – a spin-off from the concept of karaoke – a mobile, all-in-one, sing-a-long station. Ubiquitous in bars, on street corners, in homes and at parties, these machines feed the local population’s well-known love for singing… at five pesos per song. Cordero’s videoke features, on repeat, Frank Sinatra’s ever-popular song My Way, but interspersed with tabloid news reports of bar fights – as well as the occasional murder – over how this song should be sung. The portrayal details neighbourhood violence between ‘low-lifes’ in fits of primal fury: the raw and random ways of killing with whatever is close at hand – machetes as well as everyday objects found in bars, restaurants or around the home.

One aspect of the work plays up the ironies and absurdities of a specific post-colonial situation; another aspect milks the platitudes of ‘sorry’ amidst the chaos of ‘third world’ living, while a third aspect pays homage to the irrepressible ingenuity of humans and their instinctive ability to adapt. The symbiosis of life and ruin, gaudiness and beauty, glut and control, are characteristic of much of Louie Cordero’s work. It is a raucous mix of sensory stimuli and local histories and (sub)cultural phenomena such as the blaring, garishly spray-painted Jeepneys that ply the polluted highways, the crude and colourful craftworks that decorate contemporary homes and shops, and the bizarre monsters, heroes and plots of faded Filipino action and horror movies.

Pursuing violent themes with humour, Cordero enables new meanings to emerge from his decontextualisation/hybridisation. For instance, while his sculptures of human figures are created using traditional sculpting techniques, they are then collaged over with banal found objects scoured from hawker pushcarts and the dime-a-dozen dusty stores that still sell ‘first world’ cast-offs. The sculptures merge human and mechanical elements, the sensibilities of craft with mass-produced consumer goods – all contiguous with the oddball, cross-bred imagery and inventions that crowd the artist’s environment.

Wounds in Cordero’s work spew, melt and propagate, attaining metaphorical status – alluding to his country’s dark history of religious, colonial and political violence, the surfeit of B-horror aesthetics, fantasy and excess presents a cartoon version of things run amok. The psyche he presents is complex: a brew of love for the underdog and masochistic self-loathing, a clashing of egos in epic proportions.

This is a landscape of appropriation and pastiche, where fantastic revitalisation feeds off tragic disintegration. It’s postmodern, but is chock full with quirks that allow us to identify its contemporary relevance. Viewers can celebrate its cleverness and laugh at its foibles – indeed, they are invited to sing along and declare their solidarity.

Isabel Ching

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