“I walked silently beside Frank to the highway. I was tired and exhausted and hungry. Frank and I had given all our money to Jose. We walked several miles out of town and took the first freight train going north. I did not care where we were going so long as it was away from Bakersfield. I shrank from my tragedy, and I was afraid of death. My fear of death made me love life dearly. When we arrived in Idaho, I changed my plans. The pea fields decided me. Why go to an unknown city where there was no work? Here in this little town of Moscow were peas waiting and ready to be picked. So Frank and I worked for three weeks picking peas. But his heart was already in Chicago. He could not work anymore. I took him to the bus station and gave him a little of my money. I hate slow partings. I patted him on the back and left. I met some Mexican families on their way to the beet fields in Wyoming. I rode on a truck with them as far as Cheyenne, where they stopped off to work for a month.” - Carlos Bulosan, 1943.
That was 1943, when Carlos Bulosan wrote America is in the Heart.
His travel, hardwork and generosity to fellow transient farmworkers belied the harsh, inhumane working conditions he endured.
Filipinos were institutionally excluded and shunned, lynched, their houses burned as they faced harsh, arrogant words: “No Dogs and No Filipinos Allowed.”
Yet those deeply wounding conditions did not deform his human spirit to care for one more human being, to reach out to another fellow farmworker, walking for miles, just because he just gave his last dollar to another.
This is not unlike the stories of many Filipinos who came to the United States, who tried to make sense of the cold, mean-spirited and tense atmosphere they found during those depression years.
His friend, Chris Mensalves wrote a curt eulogy: Carlos Bulosan, 38 years old, died 9/11/56, Seattle. Birthplace: Philippines. Occupation: Writer. Hobby: Famous for his jungle salad served during foreign-born committee dinners. Estate: one typewriter, a 20-year-old suit, unfinished manuscripts, worn out socks. Finances: Zero. Beneficiary: His People.
When I saw the Tagalog version of the Romance of Magno Rubio on opening night, I kept wishing there were more people. Where are the 500,000 Filipinos of Los Angeles County and even Orange County?
This is the first time that a Tagalog play is being performed at Inside the Ford. How much more Filipino culture can you get?
This well-crafted, multi-textured and multi-layered play illustrated the lyrical nature of our language: Tagalog, with its cascading musicality of tone and words.
It also showcased the robust creativity and play of imagination that Filipinos have.
They saw nature as extensions of themselves and used it as a form of expression, until they were later silenced and abruptly constrained by the raw displays of racism, exclusion and depraved working conditions—the dis-embodied American dream. Metaphorically, as the romance of Clarabelle by Magno Rubio.
When I saw the first workshop at SIPA, I was moved by one actor’s performance, Jon Jon Briones, who played Magno Rubio in both English and Tagalog versions.
Fast forward to opening night (English version), Giovanni Ortega embodied Carlos Bulosan as Nick in Inside the Ford Theater in Hollywood.
Nick showed empathy to Magno Rubio, a hardworking farmworker, who was smitten with Clarabelle, and quite persistent to send her love letters for years but was unable to write his own words.
He truly deserved Magno Rubio’s praise, “You are my bukang liwayway, you are my sunrise.”
Gelo Francisco stood out as Claro in the Tagalog version of the play last Saturday, while Antoinne Diel impressively acted Prudencio in both English and Tagalog, while Clarabelle was credibly played by Elizabeth Rainey.
There were many good performances on both nights (I watched them both). The synchronized, artful swigs and swags of Filipino martial arts, the exchange of poetry known as balagtasan, the strumming of the guitar to introduce the scenes, the group singing of Ikaw and the pulsating sounds of harvest using the movement of crates—Pak, pak, pak, pak. Bboom, boom, boom. Pak, pak, pak.
Their words rhymed like poetry, and their interactions were soulful, gentle and genuine.
Can you imagine yourself living during this period?
I asked these theatre actors what they did to prepare for their roles, and to inhabit the characters they gave life to.
As it turns out, these are their personal trade secrets, which they normally show in their performances. Yet, they chose to reveal the process of acquiring inspiration.
Their preparations carried them to a special place within their inner beings—from where their inspired and inspiring performances came from.
Giovanni Ortega
“When I was approached to do Nick, the Carlos Bulosan character in the play, it was like channeling his words, performing his piece. Out of the blue, I felt his spirit, as his great niece showed up at SIPA, while we were doing the stage reading. She wanted to keep her anonymity, while I thanked her for her great uncle’s work. I really got emotional portraying Nick as I recalled my mentor, Peter Corpus. He was my big brother, and he was the person I performed for, thinking of him sitting in the audience, somewhere back there in the dark room. I see Marinduque, with Peter and all the people.”
Antoine Diel
“I was thrilled at the challenge of speaking Tagalog since growing up, after moving to Los Angeles from Manila at the age of 12, my family didn’t really speak Tagalog at home (Ilonggo maybe, but not Tagalog). The unique part about preparing for this role was I essentially was doing 2 plays at the same time. First order of preparation was to find the character in English and then phonetically learn Tagalog (something I do with other languages when singing operas and classical music) and then infuse it with the intentions already established with learning English. The beautiful surprise is when I finally got through with the pronunciation and understanding Tagalog, I found it more cathartic, speaking my lines in Tagalog than in English. I felt somehow more connected to it. ‘It’s in your blood, of course, you will feel more connected to it,’ a friend commented. I found it to be proven true with my experience doing this show, a huge undertaking but ultimately rewarding experience.”
Jon Jon Briones
“What I did to prepare for this role, besides studying all the materials shared with us by our director, [Bernardo Bernardo] is to observe my six-year-old son. Since the beginning, I have been trying to figure out what makes Magno, Magno. It was even suggested to me to maybe play him ‘slow,’ but one day, I realized that the answer was just standing in front of me. My son just got back from playing outside, and he was a little upset [about] being bullied by our neighbor’s kid. He didn’t tell me about the incident, with anger but more with confusion that his friend would hurt him and say nasty things to him. I calmed him down and he was fine again, playing, smiling, laughing and singing something that I think he just made up. That’s when I realized Magno is more childlike than anything. He doesn’t hate, he doesn’t hold grudges, he is full of joy and hope and forgiveness.”
Erik Esteban
“I played Claro in the Midwest Premiere of Magno Rubio at Victory Gardens. That was where I first met and worked with Bernardo Bernardo. So for me, the first obstacle in my preparation was forgetting that production. I had to treat this show as an entirely new thing. I wanted to create a ‘New & Improved’ Claro. That said, the new elements Bernardo added to this production helped in that regard tremendously. This is a very different show than the show in Chicago, and so I hope that I have created a different Claro. I also feel like in this production, I have a great advantage [compared to] the other English Claros because I have the benefit of hearing and seeing Gelo Francisco’s Claro performance in Tagalog. Just hearing the story in the language that was really spoken gives a new perspective for me as an actor. The Tagalog translation and Gelo’s performance of Claro in Tagalog really helped me connect the English Claro a little bit closer to the Philippines and the true origins of Claro.”
Elizabeth Rainey
“It clicked for me, when I realized the depth of how Clarabelle personified the American dream gone bad, lots of promises that didn’t get delivered, for a lot of folks. When you realized the fantasy of the American dream and now faced with reality, what would you do personally? Here, Magno Rubio shows he can live in a space with both good and bad.”
Eymard Cabling
As a Filipino-American born in Maryland, learning how to speak new and unknown Tagalog words was [a] challenge for me. Speaking with the correct accent and intonation was my main concern. I grew up learning Tagalog from my parents and family. I was always the curious one. And I love learning new languages. Plus, I always felt that it was useful to know the language that my ancestors grew up with. I always wanted to communicate with my family in their native language, with the principal belief that one must not forget where they come from.
As far as the character of Atoy is concerned, I prepared by internally thinking about the sacrifice that my own parents took in coming to America. Coming to an unknown world is always scary. Starting a new life is always scary and exciting at the same time. I always thought of the struggle and sacrifice that my parents made to come to the United States. I am blessed and grateful for the life that my parents gave me. And if it wasn’t for them, I would not be here. My father always told me that sacrifice was a very important aspect of raising a family. I always grew up knowing that he faced hardships. And as Atoy, I am brought to tears every night knowing that the Filipino spirit lies in overcoming obstacles when love and happiness is what drives the spirit. My family is my motivation.”
Bernardo Bernardo
“As a stage director, one learns pretty quickly to rely on his instincts—the so-called “gut feel,” when casting a role. During auditions, apart from technical and physical requirements (physical and vocal quality, voice projection, character type and so on), I weeded out talents on the basis of their believability or acceptability to perform/essay a role. Previous experience and training and theater are, of course, considered, but the decision-making on who is cast largely hinges on the director’s ‘gut feel’ that the actor is ‘right’ for the role—especially when he or she is reading together with other actors, who are being considered for other roles in the play. The callbacks, when actors are mixed and matched, allow the director opportunities to sense the actors’ ability to really listen, interact, and ‘live’ or ‘inhabit’ the role. When I’m dealing with a period play like Magno Rubio, where the characters lived, breathed, moved and had their beings in the California farmlands during the Great Depression, I encouraged a lot of reading and research. The Internet is a great help to access books, news articles, historical artifacts, archival documents and photographs, snippets of movies and documentaries. I also asked the actors to write biographies for the character they play so they have a sense of origin, values and relationships.”
The acting done by these modern-day actors was not sparse at all. They fully characterized what the farmworkers felt and did during these periods of scarcity, while they filled their bunkhouse with joyful sounds, wisdom, caring, sharing, sexual innuendos and a most effective fight scene. The audience laughed at many parts, and they cried, too.
I invite you to join the cast and join them as they give honor to those who came before us, who bore the burdens of exclusion—being treated less than a dog, being called harsh names as dog-eaters, monkeys, a United Snakes of America—but rose to claim the fullness of the dignity of their human spirit as farmworkers, cannery workers, writers, scholars, pensionados, singers and dancers, and many roles to become part of America! Did your American dream work for you? Or did it fail you? Come see the Romance of Magno Rubio, in both versions (English and Tagalog) and see how these manongs sustained themselves to keep an America in their hearts—a nation that did not want them in the periods of depression.
(The Romance of Magno Rubio was produced by PAE Live, Ted Benito and Ed Ramolete. It is dedicated to Maximiano Ablan Benito and Eduardo Ragasa Ramolete, both farmworkers during that period. Original screenplay was written by Lonnie Carter, Tagalog transcription was written and the current play was directed by Bernardo Bernardo. Other cast members include: Eymard Cabling, Frederick Edwards, Joseph Gelito, Jet Montelibano and Muni Zano. Period looks and makeup were created by Joel Sebastian. Period Photography in sepia and color were done by Hydee Ursolino Abrahan. The Romance of Magno Rubio will run from Nov. 4 to Dec. 11 at the Ford Theater.)
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