musical liyab filipino
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In musical ‘Liyab,’ Filipino heroes set love and language on fire

Editor’s note: This content is sponsored by KreativExpo and was produced by BrandRap, the sales and marketing arm of Rappler. No member of the news and editorial team participated in the production of this piece.

Warning: Minor spoilers on the ending ahead.

What if a “reimagined sane” Sisa from “Noli Me Tangere” walked you through history?

This is the concept for “LIYAB,” the inaugural production of Teatro Kaugnay, the first theater company in the Philippines that’s composed of 50 active-duty soldiers from the 7th Infantry (Kaugnay) Division of the Philippine Army based in Fort Magsaysay, Nueva Ecija, led by MGEN Joseph Norwin Pasamonte.

Formed from the vision of Major General Joseph Norwin D. Pasamonte, “LIYAB” reflects Teatro Kaugnay’s goal of promoting artistic excellence, cultural awareness, and nation-building. The one-and-a-half-hour musical revisits our beloved heroes and their sacrifices, with Sisa as the fitting narrator – often portrayed as an allegory of our broken motherland suffering under oppressive systems. 

“While working on this musical, we realized that nationalism is not only the heart of our identity but also the power that pushes us to strive more in our respective duties,” said creator Captain Andy Ranario. “By utilizing [a] contemporary approach towards bringing our heroes to life, [it] made them more human and recognizable.”

To bring the production to life, Teatro Kaugnay collaborated with a civilian creative team led by Lean Jurado of KreativExpo Inc. (creative director, stage director, set designer, and lighting concept designer). Joining the creative team are Joshua Rico Santos (additional choreographer), Bon Franz Raphael Gonzalez (vocal coach), and Jerico Rutaquio Namoro (composer, music arranger, and sound designer). Also part of the creative team are the talented soldier-artists of Teatro Kaugnay: Second Lieutenant Beatriz Crystal Calumpang (associate vocal coach), Corporal Jay Balequia (choreographer), and  Private First Class Fresher Jr. Madrid as (visual designer, photographer, and videographer).

Setting the atmosphere

In the Manila Metropolitan Theater, “LIYAB” welcomed the audience with a dim – but not dark – atmosphere, asking what true unity is, as far as collective desire for the country goes.

One of the production’s strongest visual elements is the constant red light in the middle of the stage – what I assume to be the central “fire” of everyone’s stories. It only changed when depicting significant developments, like blinking during fighting scenes, or turning orange during emotional exchanges. Meanwhile, the wardrobe department was nothing short of majestic. 

Long live our language

The use of the Filipino language was exquisitely delivered through the use of poetry, and I felt inclined to jot down some rarely heard words in my notes app to search for later. Calling it a Buwan ng Wika must-watch is an understatement.

I also enjoyed how the Ilocano language was showcased in Gabriela Silang’s part. This also appeared as the production’s testament to letting heroes represent their roots – Silang was powerfully presented as Ilocos’ revolutionary hero.

How fitting it was, too, that during a heart-stopping scene, a purple light hovered above Silang – the color associated with her, depicting women empowerment, until today.

I also learned about Vicente Lim better – a brigadier general who fiercely defended Bataan during the Japanese occupation.

Bridging generations

When I learned that “LIYAB” is a touring production that hopes to bridge generations, I thought about how tricky it would be to: 1) Make the musical appealing to various age groups, without falling prey to feeling too run-of-the-mill in its hope to become generally palatable; and 2) Put aggressive effort into driving younger audiences without resorting to cringey Gen Z-speak or jokes that wouldn’t land.

Thankfully, neither turned out to be a problem – and I’d have to thank their use of multiple music genres. “LIYAB’s” original music and dance was perfectly timed to break scenes that I felt were starting to feel monotonous, like when characters spoke the same tone too frequently, or they conveyed rage at a consistently peak level, becoming unrealistically jarring.

Whether it was rock, funk, hip-hop, or the classic Pinoy ballad, the production aced at being a sonic and visual feast. Who wouldn’t forget that fun segment capturing “Noli Me Tangere’s” Doña Victorina’s sass, or that effortlessly cool introduction of the members of La Liga Filipina, Rizal’s progressive group during the Spanish colonial rule?

No love if no anger

What I appreciate most in “LIYAB” is a line delivered by the character who played Jose Rizal: “Magalit ka kung ika’y nagmamahal” (which, in this context, means that if we love our country, we should be angry too).

Being angry is sometimes still frowned upon by Filipinos, who have long been praised for their bright and optimistic personality. But the truth is, anger is a healthy catalyst for change, whether in finally fighting for your rights or defending a marginalized group.

Caps off with enough teeth

I worried about the musical not wrapping up with a satisfying payoff. While I appreciated how we were brought into these individual zoomed-in worlds of our heroes, I couldn’t help but think if a full-circle moment is all we’ll end with – which isn’t bad, but also not groundbreaking if the goal is sparking a strong sense of nationalism during these tumultuous times. If anything, a retelling of our history may just leave other viewers numb or nonchalant at best.  

This is a common shortcoming of the historical plays I’ve seen. They tell us the stories we’ve already been told, present us with characters we’ve studied enough, and attempt to bank on nostalgia we’re already familiar with, but not really effective enough to make us move. Is it possible for a story rooted in the past to fuel us for the future?

“LIYAB” bravely wrapped up with a clear message, after gathering its huge pack of impressive and dedicated performers: Atin ang West Philippine Sea. It’s cleverly built up and doesn’t stray far from the play’s core: Taking back what’s ours from foreign occupants, and doing so as a united collective. 

I left the theater thinking about our responsibility to reclaim this land from the many ways it’s being stolen right now (like gentrification and cyber attacks), and realized that we can always start with loving our identity – accompanied by healthy anger, too.

Teatro Kaugnay will be performing in a series of provincial leg performances, starting in Nueva Ecija in the first week of September. – Rappler.com

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