Pioneering installation artist receives Gawad CCP award
By Ian Tee

Luis E. Yee, Jr., better known as Junyee, is a pioneer of installation art in the Philippines. Born in Agusan del Norte in 1942, he received his fine arts education from the University of the Koop Philipppines Diliman and was mentored by Napoleon Abueva, the "father" of modern Philippine sculpture. Drawing upon his Mindanao heritage and facets of Filipino identity, Junyee broke conventions by creating ephemeral site-specific works with organic and indigenous materials. He has participated in numerous high-profile international exhibitions, such as the 12th Paris Biennale (1982, France), 4th and 7th Havana Biennale (1991 and 2000, Cuba), as well as the inaugural Asia Pacific Triennial (1993, Australia).

In this conversation, the Los Baños-based artist speaks about his artistic journey, the role of public sculpture and being the first Mindanao artist to receive the Cultural Centre of the Philippines's (CCP) highest accolade, the Gawad CCP award.

Junyee, 'The Last Mile of Ho Chi Minh', 1969, santol wood, exhibited in 'Place of Region in the Contemporary' (2017) at the Vargas Museum. Image courtesy of Vargas Museum.

You studied at University of the Philippines (UP) Diliman and apprenticed under National Artists Napoleon Abueva. Could you talk about your arts education and interaction with the master sculptor?
I was a stranger in a strange land when I first set foot in Manila, without a single friend or relative in all of Luzon. However, it was a very exciting time for me to finally enroll in the UP College of Fine Arts for sculpture. Before my first year in college, National Artist Abueva invited me to be an apprentice in his studio. I was blessed! He rarely talked while we were working, and he did not tell me how I should do my work. But he explained things if I asked, and I learnt by watching him.

I learnt more in a year with him than I did in college. Apart from academic subjects, I grew bored with studio classes as they were elementary as compared to work we did in Abeuva's studio. He was a mentor and father figure in my art career. I miss him.

In 1970, you created 'Balag' as part of a massive student protest during the height of the First Quarter Storm in UP Diliman. It was your first one-man show, and arguably also the first piece of installation art done in the country. What were your intentions behind creating 'Balag'? And how did the work respond to the political situation at that time?
I am not a nationalist. I am a patriot and my politics is centred around who we are as a people. In the late 1960s and early 1970s, activism and hippie culture raised the question: what is Filipino art? My answer is that our art till that point had been western art. I love western art but it does not reflect our identity. We have a lot in our backyard which can inspire, guide, and provide us with materials.

'Balag' was my way of expressing our anger and opposition to the growing tyranny of the Marcos regime. The student protestors responded to the opportunity I offered by hanging poems and slogans they wrote on the balag or trellis I made.

Junyee's studio entrance and workspace in Los Baños. Image courtesy of the artist.

Before your foray into installation and environmental art, you made paintings and sculptures in a social realist mode. How do the use of indigenous materials and outdoor space connect with your politics?
Even now, I still consider myself not just an environmentalist but a social realist artist. I define a socialist artist as one who speaks on behalf of the people and not just for himself. It is political to work outside the confines of an art gallery and to use materials most people can relate to.

In 1985, you founded Sining Makiling, an art gallery on the campus of UP Los Baños. What were your motivations for establishing the university art gallery?
Before I established the Sining Makiling gallery in UP Los Baños and served as founding curator for four years without salary, the whole UP system all over the Philippines did not have a single art gallery! It is especially jarring since the College of Fine Arts is one of the first two UP colleges founded in 1908. Today, UP Diliman has four big art galleries.

Junyee, 'Wood Things', 1981, installation view.

You participated in a number of important international exhibitions in the 1980s and 1990s. I am thinking of works such as 'Wood Things', which represented the Philippines at the 12th Paris Biennale in 1982; and 'Breeding Ground', a performance presented at the first Asia Pacific Triennial (APT1) in 1993. How did these opportunities come about? And do you think about your practice within the context of what's happening internationally?
After ignoring the Philippines for more than two decades, the 12th Paris Biennale invited us to present 'Wood Things', which was first exhibited in the CCP gallery the year before. 'Breeding Ground' was an outdoor installation and performance that happened before the APT1 opening. The APT1 organisers picked me as I was at the forefront of contemporary art movements in the Philippines. It might have also been because I championed environmental concerns long before environmentalism was the "in" thing.

I never thought of nor planned my artistic concerns and works within the context of art developments abroad. In fact, after installing 'Open Doors' (2009) in Israel, I declined all invitations to exhibit abroad.

Junyee, 'Open Doors', 2009, installation view at the Holocaust Memorial Park, Rishon Lezion, Israel. Photo by Jong Fernandez.

Junyee, 1st 'Bantayog-Wika', public monument installed in Antique, Philippines. Image courtesy of the artist.

Speaking about 'Open Doors', let's stay on the topic of public art. While you are best known for ephemeral installations, you have also worked on a number of permanent outdoor sculptures. Two major examples are 'Open Doors', a monument you designed for the Holocaust Memorial Park in Israel; and the 'Bantayog-Wika' (language monument) project, an ongoing series of 131 monuments that honour the 131 languages of the Philippines.

You used to avoid commissions for public art, feeling that they were an unnecessary distraction from your work. What changed your mind? In your opinion, what function(s) should a piece of public art serve?
I received more major awards in sculpture than any of my contemporaries and even among talented young artists of the generations after. I won sculpture competitions in every decade, starting in the 1960s till 2016. That's seven decades! 'Open Doors' and 'Bantayog-Wika' were designs from the last two sculpture competitions I joined.

The majority of my works are installations and outdoor pieces. I have been a full-time artist for more than 50 years but had only four one-man shows in a commercial gallery. Avoiding commissions was one way of maintaining my momentum in pushing environmental and installation works. This was to the despair of my family and friends, but getting hooked on making lots of money was a real fear of mine in the early years. I did not think I could serve two muses at that time. However, things are different now. I love watching talented young artists create installation work. The genre is here to stay and maybe I can make a little money now for my family who supported me through the years, especially my wife.

For me, public art is not only meant for beautifying or enhancing a particular place. It needs to remind people what beauty is, the things that are part of their lives and things that can make a nation greater. In particular instances, especially in developing nations, public artworks are for people who do not or cannot go to art galleries and museums. These pieces mark a nation's progress and help define its soul.

This year, you received the Gawad CCP Para sa Sining, the highest accolade granted by the Cultural Centre of the Philippines (CCP) every three years. What does it mean to you to be the first Mindanao artist receiving this award?
Gawad CCP para sa Sining is a big deal, not just to me but for Mindanao. Only 12 artists have been given this award in the last 50 years and this is the first time it has been given to one from Mindanao. Even many National Artists have not received this honor.

Receiving the award has made my family and friends so happy and proud. Old acquaintances from my clan still do not understand the work I am doing and why I have lived in poverty, but they are amazed that I have received the CCP's highest award for my installation. For these reasons, the recognition means the world to me.

Junyee, 'Kwarantin', 2020, site-specific installation at the Vargas Museum Lawn. Image courtesy of Vargas Museum.

I'd like to talk about your latest installation 'Kwarantin', on view at the Vargas Museum's lawn. The work was unveiled on 14 March 2020, as the COVID-19 pandemic began to spread across the world. Could you talk about the process behind the project, from conceptualising to building the piece on site? What are your reflections on the piece today?
According to Dr. Patrick Flores of Vargas Museum, 'Kwarantin' may have been the first work in the Philippines about COVID-19. The work was completed on 22 February 2020 before the lockdown, and I am certain it is the first outdoor installation responding to the event.

Initially, I had another idea when I sourced the bamboo materials used for this project. However, the crippling horror of the virus started entering people's consciousness and I was aware how helpless we are facing it. As I said in an article with the Inquirer, 'Kwarantin' was intended as an interactive installation with viewers being provided with flashlights to place around and under the bamboo structures. The work deals with how our fears put us in quarantine, dreading the possibility that we might be the next patients. It is a universal feeling shared by the whole world.

Looking back, what was one key turning point in your life and how has it defined your outlook?
The turning point in my life is also the most painful of all my memories. Against my father's objection, I left the love and comfort of home and friends to follow my dream to be an artist. This struggle reminds me to always do my best, not to give up despite hunger and illness, and not be afraid. I really believed early on that I had something to say.

For more information on 'Kwarantin', visit the Vargas Museum website.