Happy birthday, Jose Maceda, whose work with Filipino traditional music “resulted in the collection of an immense number of recorded music taken from the remotest mountain villages and farthest island communities” of the Philippines and ”freed Filipino musical expression from a strictly Eurocentric mold”. (via the National Commission for Culture and the Arts website)
Happy birthday, Mr. Maceda. I almost dropped everything and lived in the mountains because of music. Then I saw your work and realized you had done much more than I could have ever hoped to do.
On January 17, 2013, Undersecretary Manuel L. Quezon III—that’s @mlq3 to you, Tumblr—spoke with TJ Manotoc of ANC Alerts, on PCDSPO’s ongoing project to digitally colorize archival photos from Philippine history.
Read [or watch!] the transcript of the Undersecretary’s interview on the PCDSPO blog, and view more photos from the interview on PCDSPO’s Facebook page.
This was quite awesome to observe. Check out the links, like what ought to be liked.
I came to San Francisco starry-eyed, believing that we were going to form an organization that was the culmination of all my dreams.
On June 26, 1945, General Carlos P. Romulo signed the historic United Nations Charter as chairman of the delegation from the Philippine Commonwealth. Standing behind him, from left: newspaper publisher and editor Manuel Manahan, Jose F. Imperial, Erasmo R. Cruz, Solomon V. Arnaldo, and Pedro Lopez. (Photo courtesy of the Carlos P. Romulo Foundation)
Powerful. If only because this is how we all feel entering government.
The ceaselessly talented Debbie Millman remembers pioneering astronaut Sally Ride, who passed away earlier this year, in a beautiful visual essay for The New York Times. The artwork is made of felt letters painstakingly hand-stitched on felt fabric.
Yes. To everything Sally Ride.
From Teodoro M. Locsin’s diary entry for December 18, 1941:
In writing during war, a man attaches perhaps undue significance to little acts. He discovers nobility in deeds he would otherwise dismiss, in times of peace, as the work of stale custom or habit. The ordinary run of men acquires a certain splendor in the midst of pain. Suffering may not ennoble, it does magnify.
On this day, Japanese aircraft bombed Iloilo, accurately strafing the military airfield in Mandurriao, a civilian airport near Fort San Pedro, the fuel storage tanks at La Paz, and the harbor facilities along the Iloilo River.
Beautiful map is beautiful.
In (the 1930s) people remembered World War I and how countries had blundered into it because their leaders didn’t want to stand down. It was a pointless argument and millions of people had been killed. We sent hundreds of thousands of Americans out there and got back a whole load of coffins. It was called the ‘war to end all wars,’ but in the 1920s we had books and stage plays like ‘The Big Parade’, which became a great movie, showing what a waste it all was. Then again, in the Depression people were getting fed up with politicians and governments. There was a crazy slogan, before Roosevelt: ‘Prosperity is just around the corner.’ But you turned the corner and it was just the same cheesy mess as before.
From the Malacañan Palace Facebook page: One of the many distinguished guests of Malacañan Palace was Armi Helena Kuusela, the first woman crowned Miss Universe, who paid a courtesy call on President Elpidio Quirino in 1953. She was invited to be a judge in the Miss Philippines pageant. [Above, from left to right: President Quirino receiving Miss Kuusela and Miss Philippines Teresita Villareal.]
SM: I first encountered the astoundingly blonde Miss Kuusela while researching for a short story I was writing, one set in post-WW2 Manila. Here in the Philippines, shaking our President’s hand: the first Miss Universe—there’s something awe-inspiring about that, how this teenager from Finland would help shape one of the foremost institutions of beauty. Miss Kuusela charmed hearts left and right, I am sure—including, according to one story, then-Congressman Ferdinand E. Marcos. Miss Kuusela, however, would meet the man who was to be her husband, Virgilio Hilario, in Baguio—during a blind date. They would have five children. [That short story, it turned out, couldn’t let go of Miss Kuusela; she had to traipse all over it, all beaming and dazzling and Finnish.]
I read this story then closed my eyes to imagine how it must have played out. Happy to know that the writer was true to her word—Miss Kuusela is absolutely stunning and brimming with grace.
—-Also, filing this under perks of current occupation. We’re allowed to digress, to feed the monster that is curiosity.
To denounce does not free the self from what it hates, any more than ignoring the past shuts off its influence.
Jacques Barzun (via iwriteasiwrite)
Happy to see more of Barzun’s quotes on Tumblr. Sometimes I wonder how people like him must have lived? Did they live dual lives—being at once, academic and commoner but with separate audiences?
Today’s biting question.