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Artist Statement:
PAINTINGS
I mounted my brains up on the
wall
I’ve framed my sorrows in
advance
I kept my joys free-standing
on the hall
All in an captured stance
I’ve lost my mind to endless
love
I cried my heart on dampened
tombs
I tasted ambrosia rain
sprinkled from above
That sweetened my bitter womb
Diluted I was in a marbled sea
Of colors dabbled by the
Master’s brush
Told to tone down and be
solvent-free
To picture the worldly and
crass
My nights are stacked in
fever’s pitch
My noons vapor the dizzy
rhapsody
The evening stars within my
reach
Are drawn in geometric parody
From drafting board to taut
canvas
I transform the visual to
evocable
Vacillating choices of media
wanderlust
On mystic hearts hid or
palpable…
My paintings’ sparse but my
heart’s a gallery
Chambers browsed from paranoid
to sublime
From room to room in curated
history
Hung unauctioned, yet wanting
time…
Dulz2004...
Further Information
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Artist Exhibitions:
Solo Exhibits:(Philippines)
1)One-Child Exhibit
(8yrsold)-Centro Escolar
University;
2)"Titser Dulce" - Festival
Exhibit 1991
3)"pranapintura" - National
Arts month 2001 exhibit;
4)"animafantasia" - solo
exhibit in Cebu City 2002
5) UPVT National Arts Month
Celebration Exhibit, 2005
6)"Kromatiks" UPV-LSHCenter
Foundation Day exhibit Sept 1,
2006
...
Further Information
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Artist Galleries:
Coming Soon!
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Artist Reviews:
Coming Soon!
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Collections:
Coming Soon!
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Commissions:
Coming Soon!
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Dulz Cuna Biography:
| Biographical information for Dulz Cuna can be found below. The artist may choose what information to display. Sometimes the artist chooses not to display personal information to the general public. |
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Age
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52
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| Gender |
Female
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| Status |
Single
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| Children |
4
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| Religion |
Catholic |
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| Education |
Graduate Degree |
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| Hobbies / Interests |
Gourmet Cuisine, Photography, Nature Spiritualism, Tarot Reading |
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| Favorite Artistic Medium |
Mixed Media
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| Favorite Arthistory Movement |
Surrealism - (1924 - 1955)
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| Favorite Visual Artist |
Henri Rousseau
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| Favorite Work of Art |
The Sleeping Gypsy
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| Biggest Artistic Inspiration |
A "Tikog" Quest: Penelope Ravels and Unravels..
Life as an Artist in Tacloban is likened to a "Tikog" quest, Every year, month, day is a tapestry of joys, travails, apprehensions and anticipations..(maybe I'm just too much of a "feeling" type...always in an emo strain). From my coffee to my melatonin I handle the world like a natural weaver of sorts..the weaving, the unravelling, like Penelope in her patience for the King of Ithaca...and as a local weaver, "Tikog" is a strand..er..strain...
"Tikog" (Fimbrystyllis Milliacaea) is a type of wild grass that grows in rice fields in between harvests. It is best for bags, placemats, floor mats and wall decorations, First, the tikog is harvested and dried well during the summer months to retain their natural light color. It is then pounded and flattened and cut to a specific uniform width about 1/4 inch before it gets to the weavers. The weavers do their work at night or in the early hours of the morning for the woven mats to retain their shape. Humidity also affects the color, and causes the tikog warp. Thus, it takes a weaver at least a week to complete a single mat"
...Just a little info from the slip of paper enclosed in my tikog passport holder given to me as a token by the local Department of Tourism. Indeed, I have grown in this City as perennial as the grass, moored with the splendor of being, pounded and flattened by ancient folkways to be woven to the tapestry of a Leytena artist...Each day is a loom of work, leisure and conviviality..the joy of creating and the pathos of deconstructing...Sometimes we are burdened by an idea, carrying all the while within you..waiting for a place or time of Birth...But when it is out on this world, I worry if it's accepted or not..so I succumb to the neurosis of humanity...
..Indeed, may one be a Weaver in Tacloban City, an artist..an artisan...whatever the case may be, but a simple fact is held in the sack of plain Truth..all the weaver wants to do is to Express...
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| Why Did You Become An Artist |
not provided |
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| Your Personal Biography |
Review on Latest Solo Exhibit: "KROMATIK" by Art Critic Merlie Alunan
According to her profile, aptly titled Arkanamama (http://arkanamama.multiply.com), Dulce Cuna’s hometown is Biringan. You have to be from Western Samar to appreciate where that is. Biringan, an unlocated country somewhere between Calbayog and Catarman, where mythic cities of indescribable grandeur are said to exist, unvisited by ordinary mortals, known only by sumptuous folk stories that refuse to die despite television and radio, and the advent of diesel-fueled buses clattering past the grasslands and rock formations that make up the landscape.
Biringan country is said to be somewhere there. But then again, it is not anywhere, really. It is not in the usual spaces where most of us move. It is in a dimension all its own. One can go there without having to go anywhere, the way Harry Potter navigates between two worlds on a broomstick. And what it’s like in Biringan, no one knows. They say one may visit if one had the daring. Or, by some magical slip, one is brought there willy-nilly. There’s one story of a bus that somehow lost its way and the driver stopped to pass the night at some sort of depot. When he and his passengers woke up the next morning they were in the middle of a clump or bamboos with no roads anywhere around them that would have brought them where they were…
Biringan. That’s where she comes from, she says, and no wonder. Those who know her have suspected this all along, but are too staid to really give it much thought. Last September 22, 2006, Dulce exhibited some twenty canvasses at the Leyte-Samar Heritage Gallery, under the overall title of Kromatik. The exhibit gives us glimpses of the strange wild colors of her world. The major canvasses were filled with biomorphic forms in vivid colors—raw reds, oranges, blues and greens, yellows and bright purples—drifting in a watery field like lush seaweeds and corals.
Like a true Biringan native, Dulce has given the canvasses Waray names, thus the central canvass is called Kaladkad, which means “boiling.” The shapes that make up the canvass are distinct, the edges sharply defined—they do not merge and blend and melt into one another, like life forms in the process of birthing, finding a shape, an identity, like plasma before it became an organism. Like a word in its pre-Oedipal moment, before it achieved a sound and a meaning. This are the general characteristics of Pamukaw ni JR, Slurp, and Pamukad.
Pamukaw ni JR offers the variation of a frame in a dream-like canvass of biomorphic shapes, like a dreamer’s window to realism, indeed like an alien looking through a chink in his world into the human landscape of mountains and clouds and trees and an undiscovered lake. Through the angular window, one views a dewy world dawning, water framed in a curtain of greenery and an innocent sky, the whole window afloat in an inchoate aqua field threatened by toothed swirls of brilliant colors, the unshaped looking out to the solidity of the world after creation. Dulce shows the metamorphoses of colors into flowers, trees, leaves, a human face, the human body, and finally, the female shape in all the glory of a social statement, the figure clothed and in a stance of pride and power, and bearing a fully-realized human drama.
Kromatik is a fanciful production, as fanciful as the painter imagining that she, or people of her kind, come from the magic city of Biringan. But such imaginings are certainly vital for the completion of our basic humanity. The show navigates the strange processes of birthing, the constant shifts we endure between chaos and identity, between word and silence, between annihilation and form and our endless metamorphosis from one color to another. The way we travel from the world of day to Biringan in the darkness behind our sight. |
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