Maestro Michael Dadap: On Storytelling, Folklore, and Music
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Michael Dadap (Photo by Lorna Lardizabal Dietz)
Dressed in a black T-shirt that proudly displayed a logo of a stringed musical instrument overlapped by a “G” clef and a label, “Hinunangan Orchestra Sin Arco,” or Hinunangan Orchestra without Bows, Michael greeted his 30-plus visitors to “an intuitive talk.”
Michael had recruited me a couple of days before the conference to help Dr. Aida Natividad-Rivera organize and promote his tertulia. Although our interactions were quite rare ever since we first met in 2009 during a NaFFAA Northern California-sponsored concert at the War Memorial Museum, San Francisco, I had fond memories of Michael and his brilliant, talented musician-spouse, Dr. Yeou-Cheng Ma. This San Francisco visit marked the reunion of Michael and his former pupil, Florante Aguilar, at the home of another NaFFAA co-founder and their mutual friend, Rodel Rodis. They had finally reconnected after 20 years. I privately video-recorded some musical performances of the Dadap-Ma duo and the auspicious meeting between the two classical guitarists.
During the intimate conversations that took place during the Las Vegas tertulia, I highlighted the most frequently asked questions.
What is a tertulia?
“The Filipino tertulia takes us back to our great heroes before the Spanish Revolution. Our Philippine national hero, Jose Rizal, had tertulias in places like Madrid. Tertulias were social gatherings which he used to promote his writings. The tertulia’s format encouraged a discussion. Rizal would eventually publish a newspaper, which highlighted the abuses of the Spanish conquistadores in his beloved Philippines,” Michael explained. “You could discuss anything under the sun. A tertulia brought people from all disciplines, not just intellectuals. Musicians or singers would also be invited to add to the conversation. Whether you were a doctor, a chef, an engineer, and the like, their common goal was to grow intellectually as a human being.”
What is folklore?
“Folklore is what makes you the core, the center of your existence as a person. If you are born in the Philippines, you know all about the aswang, kapre or ogre, or the origin of certain foods like the ampalaya or bitter melon. You know your legends or alamat.”
What is folk music?
“The song of the people, sung by the common people. It is not written on paper, but passed on by word of mouth from generation to generation, oftentimes with changes. These folk songs are source materials that our great composers used.
“A folk song is an artless form of music-making. The chords and melody are simple. The lyrics are pure.
“In the Philippines, most compositions are based on the folk themes of the Filipino people. These folk songs are the stories of who we are. It does not apologize for where you come from. It does not apologize if your accent is good or bad. You can sing them in Bisaya, Tagalog, or any Filipino language. These folk songs are accepted as they are.”
What is an art song?
“The folk song becomes an art song when the composer alters certain passages or phrases so that the song becomes palatable to many people’s ears or becomes more sophisticated. You can compare this to a chef adding a little wine to a basic recipe. A composer incorporates different flavors from his or her experience.”
How do folklore and music become a way of life of a nation?
“Once you learn a story, it becomes a part of you --- a habit,” Michael stated.
Dr. Angie Cruz added, “It becomes the heart and soul of a people. We don’t know who wrote it. We don’t know where it came from --- but we know it. For instance, the Alamat of Maria Makiling.”
Michael recalled an incident: “A few years ago, I played a kundiman at a concert in Upstate New York. A young woman, in tears, approached me after the program ended. She said, ‘I was crying when I heard your song. It reminded me of my lolo’ (grandfather). Although this woman was born in the US, the music made her feel ‘I know this, I belong to this.’
“Music is the sanctuary of the soul. Through our history and music, our awareness of where we come from, you play music where you feel safe.”
Sonny Izon, a Filipino American documentary filmmaker added, “It is one way of the past informing the present. Our generation, Michael, was weaned by Lola Basyang, with those stories every Friday night on the radio.”
“It is our job to continue the stories of our people. We should never forget the stories of Lola Basyang. We can incorporate better ones,” Michael emphasized. “There are people who think I am against modern music. Absolutely not! I embrace the new songs of today. You can embrace the old songs of yesterday, and together, we can enrich our lives.”
Does folklore dictate who we are, or do we dictate the folklore of a nation’s culture?
Michael laughed. “This is a question that answers the question. Storytellers are the folklorists, and storytellers are creative artists. Creative artists are like fertilizers. They condition and stir the ground. Whatever isn’t necessary in the soil dies. Through fertilization, new plants sprout, live, and thrive.
“When you are a folklorist and you have a good story to tell, it influences everybody, and it is carried from generation to generation, from the heart, from the gut, repeatedly.
“Why is a folk song popular? Because it is a beautiful tune. People sing it, people pick it up, just like that. We are always attracted to something organic to our world, in our heart.”
“Like our legends, our folklore shows the Filipinos’ basic values such as respect for people, and love for our neighbors,” Dr. Angie Cruz interjected.
What musical instruments do Filipinos prefer?
Michael declared, “The guitar is the national instrument of the Philippines. Almost every household has a guitar. Others have a piano. A child, without any training, can strum a guitar.
“My first experience with a musical instrument was with the ukulele. Just by holding this musical instrument, I made a commitment.
“The 14-stringed bandurria, on the other hand, must be played with a group of people. It becomes a social tool of conversation. Sometimes, you take it for granted. When you finally learn and understand the language, you fall in love with it.”
Is there a “disconnect” among our young people of Filipino ancestry? Do you believe there is no continuity in promoting these traditional songs of the people?
“Connecting our history, folklore, stories, and traditional music starts with a family discussion. You cannot ask someone to appreciate our stories and music if they don’t understand the context,” Michael enlightened his visitors.
“Our folklore and folk songs contain simple, predictable, quiet words. To the 21st century listener, it might sound morbid. The lyrics might be something like, ‘If you don’t love me, I will die!’ Or ‘If you don’t help me, I will die!’ However, if you realize that, during that historical period the songs or stories were created, the lyrics or words were really metaphors for hopelessness or that someone needed help, the modern-day listener will understand.”
“In the Philippines, most compositions are based on the folk themes of the Filipino people. These folk songs are the stories of who we are.”
What is the difference between electronic instruments and acoustic instruments?
“When you learn how to play a musical instrument, an intimate relationship exists between the learner and the instrument. You become friends,” Michael reveals.
“When playing an electronic instrument, you push a button, and you get what you want. There is no emotional attachment.
I chose the guitar because the sound vibrates into my heart. It becomes personal. Your left hand is your heart. It gives the expression. The right hand is your mouth. It speaks. If you have a good heart and a bad mouth, it doesn’t work. If you have a good mouth and a bad heart, it doesn’t work either.
With an instrument, there is a direct relationship with who you are as a person. For example, are you an impatient person?”
What Philippine traditions evolved into song forms?
Michael cited an example: “Dr. Antonio Molina and Professor Felipe Padilla de Leon taught me that the kundiman was a contraction of three Filipino words, kung hindi man. It was an accepted way of showing respect for our culture.‘Kung hindi man, may I ask for a glass of water?’ or ‘Kung hindi man, may I marry you?’
“Some of the Spaniards residing in the Philippines complained, ‘These Filipinos! Kundiman, kundiman, kundiman!’
“Filipino composers and creative artists who were involved in the fight for independence from the Spaniards used the kundiman as a song form to inject fire and inspiration to the tired soldiers in the mountains. A kundiman would start with lyrics like ‘Doon po sa amin, bayan ng San Roque,’ or ‘Where we come from, in San Roque,’ and continue to tell a story about a pig they had slaughtered whom they named Nic-Nic. Metaphorically, this passed-along kundiman was a warning to the public that on that night, the Filipino revolutionaries would be looking for Nic-Nic, and Nic-Nic would be assassinated.
“The composers changed the tempo, and the song became ‘Joselinang Baliwag.’ Joselina represented the Filipino or the mother country. This became the theme song of the Katipunan or the revolution against the Spanish colonialists. It became a rallying cry to keep moving forward to victory!”
Michael stressed, “Our music is not about converting people. It’s about discussing what to do. Unfortunately, many of us do not appreciate our culture. We appreciate somebody else’s popular culture. To become accepted, we imitate them.”
What is a rondalla?
“The root word is ‘ronda,’” Michael pointed out. “Once upon a time, a Spanish governor asked the ‘natives’ to ronda or guard his house. These Filipinos would walk around the perimeter of the house, singing or strumming their instruments. In Spain, a rondalla was about making music while in a semi-circle.”
Maestro Michael went into detail. “A rondalla is an ensemble consisting of plucked string instruments of different sizes. The ideal Philippine full scale rondalla ensemble would consist of a combination of the following Philippine folk instruments: 8 bandurrias (14 strings), 4 octavinas (14 strings), 4 laud(s) (14 strings), 4 guitars (6 strings), and 2 string bass (4 strings).
The Bandurlin (Photo by Nuby De Leon)
“This is a full plucked string orchestra or an orchestra without using bowed instruments. In short, it is known as ‘Orkestra Sin Arko.’
“National artist and well-known Filipino composer Dr. Antonio Molina founded a rondalla ensemble called ‘The Yellow Taxi Rondalla.’ However, the tradition of a high-level rondalla ensemble gradually waned, perhaps due to the lack of support and public appreciation. The rondalla was never fully accepted as a concert stage ensemble for many years. Thus, its reputation is associated with handicapped persons playing at the airports, weddings, and other social functions as a form of entertainment. In the 1970s, Filipino composers Felipe De Leon Sr. and Jerry Dadap Sr. produced significant works for the rondalla, putting them into the concert stage. Again, the lack of support and funding made it difficult for the rondalla to gain a permanent prominent stature. Presently, there are active rondalla festivals spearheaded by Professor Dr. Ramon Santos.”
Michael disclosed his frustrations and hopes about the rondalla’s bandurria. “The bandurria is always out of tune. It is not calibrated properly. Oftentimes, Filipinos buy shiny looking bandurrias to decorate their walls.
“After 25 years of my unsuccessful attempts to create an innovative musical instrument that has a wide tonal range (G-3 to D-7), better projection, deeper tonal quality, accurate intonation, and less tension on the strings, I challenged the manufacturers. I asked an engineer to create a prototype model based on my concept. Today, I am proud to present the bandurlin.
“The bandurlin can be played in an orchestra, in Carnegie Hall, without using a microphone. It can replicate the high notes of a violin. I recall the early days when I was booed out of the lecture halls because I claimed that the strings could pull the strength of 450 lbs. They thought I was hallucinating!”
You talk about creating more Orchestras Sin Arco (orchestras without bows) among our Filipino children and adults. What do you plan to do?
Maestro Michael enthusiastically spoke about his call to action.
“An Orchestra Sin Arco is not designed or conceived to replace the existing traditional rondalla. It is an ensemble that evolves from the rondalla with unlimited promise of high-level artistic and virtuosic possibilities.
“My challenge to NaFFAA and to any Filipino group around the world is: We must carry on the history of music-making and teach our younger children. As Filipinos, we are proud of our musical gifts. We need to practice longevity, to move up to the standards of a world-class ensemble. This means many years of study.
“Why can't we have an ensemble that can identify our culture? I am challenging us to become advocates. This is our ticket to our cultural identity.
“My vision for you is to start from scratch. If your city or region is interested, contact me at dayonCOS@gmail.com.
“We can create a structure, invest in training teachers, and invest on the students. We have a proven method.
“What I see is an orchestra of Filipinos who do not aim to play for parties. In a few years, your organization’s orchestra will tour Carnegie Hall. You will go places!
“I want this Orchestra Sin Arco to be heard by an audience because it deserves to be heard. Just like the voices of the Filipino people, we deserve to be heard.”
P.S. Michael played one of his favorite compositions, “Balud” (or waves) for his visitors.
An emotional 47-year-old single mother of five children, Sheela Kunishige, remarked that she had toured with a rondalla as a child, playing the bandurria. “You got me with your music!” Sheela blurted.
Michael Dadap and Sheela Kunishige (Photo by Lorna Lardizabal Dietz)
Although Sheela has her own independent label as a pop musical artist, she wants to invest in a new bandurria and relearn her skills.
As the tertulia ended, Sheela sang a kundiman to the accompaniment of Michael’s guitar.
Lorna Lardizabal Dietz is a Filipino community publicist and a cultural empowerment advocate. She is a member of the board of directors of the San Francisco Filipino Cultural Center.
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