In the 13th century when the 10 royal families of Borneo fled and
landed on Panay Island, fierce black and kinky-haired inhabitants, the Aetas, sold them a piece of the land in exchange for a solid gold hat and basin and put Datu Sumakwel in charge.
Centuries later, Spanish Christians persuaded light-skinned natives to blacken their bodies with soot and wear masks and headdresses to look like Aetas and engage in Ati-Atihan (make-believe Aetas) to repel Muslims.
To the loud beat of drums, defiant shouts of “Hala, Bira!” (Go on and fight!) are chanted with a repeated two-step dance. Aetas sway and swing in a frenzied rhythm to block the invaders out to conquer their beloved paradise, originating the “ati-atihan.”
Mahal, the original Filipino rock opera staged in 1975, recreated this segment of our history:
“Mahiwagang Kasaysayan ito
Ala-ala ng mundo ay wasto
Ang lihim ay isasalaysay
Nang sumapit ang liwanag
Aking Mahal”
Mahal, dubbed as an “electro mechanical mystical Filipino rock musical,” took one year to make and turned out to be a four-hour spread. Tim Rice and Andrew Lloyd Webber’s Jesus Christ Superstar served as a sophisticated template for a production like Manila had never experienced.
With the libretto by Beatriz Romualdez Francia writing as Rahisa Lahat-Wala, it featured Jacqui Magno as Ligaya Liwanag, Joey “Pepe” Smith as a Jack in the Box character and Tess Santos of the pre-Sampaguita days. It went on stage at the Main Theater of the Cultural Center of the Philippines (CCP) on March 21, 22, 23 and April 4 and 5, 1975, at 7:30 p.m.
You’d think information about a musical with such cultural significance — one that attempts to rediscover our pre-western identity as some sort of a long-lost Eden through esoteric and exotic sounds and synchronized movements — can be readily googled or downloaded from YouTube. That, however, proves to be an empty indset. As I found out, it is available only in scraps of information from the Internet, which is materially odd in the Age of Information when almost everything can be googled.
Being a backroom bohemian, I watched a staging and even acquired a copy of the souvenir program designed by Larry Francia, rectangular in size with an image of our half-naked ancestors on the sepia-shade cover. I kept it, but can no longer find my copy.
How did I reconstruct Mahal for this article? By collating available information. It is very possible complete information is available at the CCP library, but due to a walking handicap, I have not attempted to find out.
Francia, freethinking niece of First Lady Imelda Marcos that made her a “Romualdez from the other side of the fence,” created it after her detainment upon the imposition of martial law. The plot is based on the colorful characters of Café Los Indios Bravos on A. Mabini Street, Ermita, Manila, and incidentals there that she operated with husband Henry Francia.
Reliving the crusade of Filipino intellectuals living in France and Spain, who called themselves “Los Indios Bravos” (The Brave Natives) led by Jose Rizal and Juan Luna, the Café turned into a hub — recreating the salons where the reformers huddled to reclaim a coherent identity and dignity for Filipinos.
Mahal brought rock and modern dance in equal balance to create a new musical theater, the rock opera ballet, in the 1970s. Overall direction was by Henry Francia, with music by Abel “Bing” Labrador and Jose Ramon Faustmann, stage direction by Leo Martinez, set design by Johnny Altomonte and choreography by Julie and Rose Borromeo.
Mahal reconstructed the café as Kosmik Kafe and the mind games that played there:
“A hall of mirrors; also a circular tent-like module with two arched doors far left and right and a mezzanine room in the center with a circular staircase leading up to it. The only furnishings are Vienna tables and chairs and a capiz tiffany lamp at the center, a bar with a cash register. A mirror at the mezzanine room and two wall signs: ‘Stamp Out Reality’ and ‘Magic Theater’ — For Madmam Only — Price of Admission — Your Mind.”
A full orchestra by Emy Munji plus a chorus by Quinto; a rhythm and blues section made up of Edmund Fortuno, Wally Gonzales, Vic Naldo and Sonny Tolentino; Indian sitars and tablas presided over by Kuku Grewal; and ethnic music with indigenous instruments — all these made up an unheard of rhythm section that relived the past and present in a mind-boggling stir.
With mobile sets, the narrative revolves around a carousel with life-size animals symbolizing café habitués who were mostly named by their nicknames. Lorna Tirol Kalaw actually went treasure hunting for the Sumakwel gold. It turned the hub of all known and up-and-coming visual artists and writers, revolutionaries, big business owners, Marcos boys, rebels with causes, substance abusers and other plain hangers-on.
Stage performance and screen projections shifted time frames in a multi-screen approach. High on a recreational habit, Smith, who jumps out from a box frequently, forgot his lyrics, but improvised to the correct melody. Who would know?
Ending in revelry that spilled to the lobby to the rousing tune and animated shouts of “Hala, bira!” Smith as Pied Piper incarnate assisted by two costumed midgets called the crowd, “Hoy Pareng Henry, Anong ginagawa mo?/Hoy Pare, Malapit na ang curfew/Hoy Pare, Iligpit mo na ang Mahal!”
With its ambitious design partially delivered, the Francia couple were deemed not professional at the medium. The result was similar when the Beatles decided to make a made-for-television film, Magical Mystery Tour, a critical and commercial flop.
For sure, Mahal required more creative and organizational skills than creative writing, running a café or, for that matter, filmmaking. But it opened up wide possibilities of exploration and direction. We know its anthropological and psychological intention is a tall order, but it pointed to a direction.
The planned recording and a small screen version never pushed through, explaining the dearth of Mahal-related material in the Internet.
Economics got in the way of dreams and daydreams that we lost the value of remembrance. There are no available images or film footages of the production. The best sources are probably music sheets and/or recordings of the soundtrack that heirs of Francia, who moved to another state, would have likely stored for posterity. This assemblage would never be repeated again or at least until now.
But Mahal is found, the essence of the new Filipino music, or what a radio station shouted then as “Super Tunog Pinoy.” Or what would progress not long after as OPM, Original Pilipino Music, an imaginative blend of genres by Filipino artists with distinct cultural sensibilities.