A hushed reverence filled the gallery space, transformed into a sanctuary of rest and reflection. Karl Castro’s installation, *Maytubig*, wasn’t merely an exhibit; it was an immersive experience, born from the heart of Filipino fishing culture. Part of the Benilde Open Design and Art grants, it offered a rare pause, a space shaped by both human memory and the enduring power of the natural world.
The installation’s canopy, a delicate weave reminiscent of the *salambao* and *sakag* – traditional fishing nets once vital to Manila Bay – spoke volumes. Built in collaboration with fishermen from Talim Island, *Maytubig* wasn’t designed *for* a community, but *with* one. Castro envisioned a space where rest itself became an act of remembrance, a temporary reclaiming of a connection to the water that once defined the city.
Beyond *Maytubig*, a wave of innovative projects explored the complex relationship between humanity and the environment. Mac Andre Arboleda’s *Nutrition Month (Presented by Mayor Alice Guo)* used a satirical lens to dissect contemporary Filipino society, cleverly framing it within the guise of a government campaign and online scams. His work underscored the critical need for grassroots research in navigating the ever-evolving digital landscape.
The Benilde Open Design and Art grants, awarding P300,000 to ten visionary creatives, weren’t simply about funding projects; they were about fostering a new generation of thinkers. This year’s theme, “Extension of Nature,” sparked a diverse range of responses, from digital explorations to tactile reinterpretations of traditional practices.
Bianca Carague’s *Technospoonism* offered a playful yet profound reimagining of the Filipino *kamayan* tradition – eating with one’s hands. Her wearable cutlery, crafted as rings, cuffs, and pendants, blurred the lines between jewelry and functionality, prompting a reconsideration of everyday rituals. Nearby, Niño Tayao’s *Datirati* invited viewers to reconnect with childhood wonder through stacking toys sculpted from agricultural waste.
Tayao’s choice of materials – rice husks, corn husks, seeds, and starch – wasn’t accidental. He sought to capture the fragility and cyclical nature of life, mirroring the uncertainty of our current climate. The materials themselves carried a potent nostalgia, a sense of working with something inherently alive and impermanent.
The exhibition extended beyond aesthetics, embracing civic responsibility. Andi Osmeña’s *Waste of Space* directly addressed the scarcity of public spaces in Metro Manila, utilizing upcycled materials to create temporary gathering spots. Her work was a call to action, a reminder that accessible public space isn’t a luxury, but a necessity.
Osmeña’s vision was one of empowerment: simple, inexpensive materials allowing communities to build spaces for themselves, a “guerrilla” approach to reclaiming the city. She aimed to instill hope, to create “small pockets of joy” within the urban landscape.
Further enriching the narrative, Krishner Appay’s *A Cultural Revival of the Tausug Luhul Giyuting Tree of Life* showcased exquisite appliqué textiles created in collaboration with local artisans from Sulu. Her project wasn’t just about preserving traditional techniques; it was about challenging the notion that local art is confined to local audiences.
The exhibition also delved into speculative futures. Mikael Joaquin’s video installation, *The Memory of Flood*, presented a haunting vision of Manila reshaped by rising waters, a stark reminder of the city’s vulnerability. Nicolei Racal’s *What If Snow Falls in the Philippines?* explored a fictional climate catastrophe through a textile-based installation, prompting contemplation of the unimaginable.
Atlas of Water Futures, by Uno Sinotra, took a more proactive approach, developing an inflatable bubble-dome installation through workshops with children in Cebu, offering a tangible response to the threat of flooding. These speculative designs weren’t about predicting the future, but about preparing for it, about imagining possibilities and fostering resilience.
The international selection committee, comprised of leading figures in design and architecture, recognized a unifying thread throughout the projects: a deep connection to community and a uniquely Filipino perspective. They lauded Benilde Open’s commitment to commissioning “prototypical work,” fostering innovation and experimentation.
“They all have a collective aspect, a community aspect, and that is what I would love to see represent the Philippines on a global level,” explained Freddie Anzures, a member of the selection committee. “The variety is part of its identity. It’s a collage.” The Benilde Open Design and Art 2026 exhibition, on view until April 27, offered a powerful testament to the enduring creativity and resilience of the Filipino spirit.
